what she (didn't) know
Some nights, Bonnie would dream about the Other Side. She always sat at a wooden, white round table, with an infinite mug of warm tea. No matter how much she drank, it would remain almost full. A Bennett charm, she suspected, like the gentle winds that blew past her. One by one, Bennett witches would surround her with hugs and laughter as they joined the table. As they passed scones and cookies to each other, they would include her in inside jokes and treat her as their peer.
"To think, you used to fear spirits," her Great-Grams would say with a laugh, brushing Bonnie's bangs out of her face.
Bonnie gave her Great-Greams, Amelia Bennett, a warm but nervous smile before she reached for her great-grandmother's hand. In this space, with dozens of witches at her side, Bonnie could feel the warmth and respect that Mystic Falls would never give her. She craved that affection, even though she would never see the Other Side again. In her dreams, they would temporarily reunite, and here, Great-Grams would kiss her forehead before joining the other guests.
"Remember when-" One witch (cousin Lucy?) would begin, only for the others to laugh and interrupt her story with overlapping voices.
Bonnie would try - and fail - to hide her amusement behind her tea. In death did they stay, and in death, they had more stories to share than she had ever anticipated. Her Great-Grams would regale the whole table for hours with stories of her James Dean.
Oh, Amelia didn't actually date James Dean.
"He would be a bit too young," Great-Grams teased, with a twinkle in her eye as she passed Bonnie a scone. "But my boy sure embodied his spirit. When we were together, the world stopped turning, and for a few nights, he would make me feel young again."
Grams would furrow her brow at great-Grams, and as two and two clicked together, Grams let out a low, slow gasp. "Then the time he brought me back from Woodstock-"
"Yes, sweetheart." great-Grams smiled, reaching over to kiss Grams on the cheek. "We had quite the history."
"How come you never married him?" Grams would say, furrowing her brow as the pieces continued to slide in place. "He left town the following morning, like it was nothing."
"Some stories were never meant to be finished," Great-Grams said, with a wistful sigh that indicated the end of the conversation.
A story that was never finished, and a history that had eluded even Grams' observant eye. Bonnie would dream about this story over and over, even though she'd only heard it once as the Anchor. Some vivid dreams, she understood. Stress dreams involved a hectic life. Nightmares happened after brutal exams. Her recurring dream about talking cats and mice? Well, she'd never understand that one.
Dreams like her everlasting tea parties, she supposed, she'd never fully have an explanation for.
In the waking world, Bonnie cherished every moment of her life. Now that her lifespan was tied to Elena's, she wouldn't take a second for granted. So she would maintain the best Bonnie Bennett she could - mostly by keeping track of her diet and limiting her booze intake.
Or well, she tried to. Damon made that almost impossible. (Sometimes, that man might as well be five years old.) Also on her resolutions for a healthier, happier Bonnie: early morning jogs. While Caroline was asleep, Bonnie would grab her earphones and her phone and run as far as her legs would take her.
This time, she jogged out by the old cemetery. As her feet pounded against the pavement, she kept her eyes on-on Stefan?
Weird. Stefan kept early hours, but definitely not in this part of town. Bonnie screeched to a halt to observe him better. He held a bouquet of white and red roses in one hand as he knelt down in front of an ornate tombstone. Bonnie couldn't make out the name from here.
She stepped closer, before ducking behind a nearby tree. Stefan was a pretty private guy. He wouldn't appreciate company if he hadn't asked for it. Maybe he was paying his respects to Elena. Or Lexi. Or someone who meant more to him than he had let on. In this death trap of a town, everyone had lose someone close to them.
Bonnie should've dropped it and moved on. She would have, except-
Except Stefan was saying, with annoyance in his voice, "She's nothing like you, Amelia. How on Earth did someone with your talent and your spark get so temperamental?"
She stiffened. Amelia Bennett was her great-Grams. They'd met once on the Other Side, over tea and blueberry scones, and the stories had been more fanciful than real. How did Stefan know her? He said he was far more familiar with Grams and Emily.
Stefan sighed, blowing some stray hairs out of his face. "It's no use asking you anymore, Abra. I miss you more than I think I've got any right to."
Oh.
God.
The James Dean-type that great-Grams had nearly married had been Stefan?
Bonnie clasped her hands over her mouth. Nuh-uh. Stefan couldn't have been Great-Grams's one true love, because Stefan was annoying and exasperating and kind of a jerk sometimes. He only asked Bennett witches for what they needed. He could be kind, but not to them. Especially not when he felt like he had the entire weight of the world on his shoulders. (Newsflash, Stefan: sometimes, Bonnie held it better than he ever could.) She wasn't going to reveal herself here, not now. She couldn't admit that she'd heard his whole damn speech, or well, enough to implicate her.
Stefan glanced over his shoulder. "Bonnie, I think the entire neighborhood heard you."
Or maybe she'd given herself away half a minute ago. Bonnie emerged from her hiding space and gave him a sheepish wave.
"I uh, I didn't know that you and great-Grams were a thing."
Stefan's expression softened. "It was a long time ago. Grams was around your age when we broke it off for real."
She tilted her head. "How come?"
"I'm kind of an eternal teenager," Stefan said, with a twinge of regret in his voice. "People were starting to mistake me for Sheila's boyfriend."
Now that was a cute mental image. An understandable one, but kind of cute when she stopped to think about peace signs and love and Grams at the height of her youth. Bonnie stifled a laugh, turning to face the ornate tombstone. Amelia Bennett, beloved grandmother and friend. A Biblical quote was written underneath it, and Stefan's fresh bouquet lay at the edge of her grave. He must've visited often; there were also small wildflowers growing along the edges, and they were relatively well-maintained.
"Does Caroline know?" Bonnie said softly, kneeling so she could touch them with her fingertips.
"Not yet." Stefan folded his arms. "I'm not sure if the time's right, considering me and Valerie..."
Bonnie groaned. As far as she was concerned, the time was never going to be right. Stefan was always going to have some old flame waltzing into his life, and he and Caroline were going to deal with them one lady (or gentleman, she couldn't rule it out) at a time. "I'm starting to think that you've got a really long list of ex-lovers."
"Now you're gonna make her think I'm insane," Stefan replied with a slight grin. "You know, you're not the only one constantly tortured by Taylor Swift's lyrical genius."
"Yeah, but you're the boyfriend." Bonnie scrunched up her face at him. "You signed up for torture by musical proxy. The best friend didn't."
The best friend was also supposed to get along with the boyfriend and trust that he had his girlfriend's interests at heart. When Stefan was dating Elena, Bonnie hadn't put much stock in the idea. Stefan had Elena's best interests in mind from day one. Stefan also focused his entire world around Elena. Elena this, Elena that, Elena, Elena, Elena. Bonnie never once doubted Stefan's love for her (because only an idiot would).
With Caroline, though, Bonnie's instincts wavered more. Stefan cared for her. Bonnie wouldn't contest that in a million years. But could she trust Stefan to act in Caroline's best interests all the time, especially considering the women who wove in and out of his life? First Katherine, then Rebekah, then Ivy (rest in peace), then Valerie, and now great-Grams?
And here she thought Damon really got around.
Stefan shot her an exasperated smile. "You're stuck with it as much as I am. See, there it is again."
It? Surely he didn't mean her dagger glare, because Stefan Giuseppe Salvatore had no right to point fingers.
Bonnie's scowl only worsened. "You're complaining to my great-grandmother's grave about me? Stefan, she's never gonna answer you back."
"It's cheaper than a therapist."
She raised her hands to give him one of those dreaded aneurysms, when it hit her: she was joking with Stefan. Actually joking, like he was a close friend and confidante rather than the naked guy underneath Caroline's sheets. (Or Caroline's and Elena's sheets. She'd caught them canoodling one too many times for her own good.)
Her expression softened as she regarded him with new eyes. "You still might want one. I hear it's really working out for Klaus."
"That girl in New Orleans, right? Somehow, I think he needs it more than I do." Stefan shrugged, rising to his feet. As he turned to leave, he blew one last kiss at Amelia's name.
She almost felt as if she were intruding on a private ritual between him and a woman who could never touch him back. A gentle breeze blew past them, lingering by Stefan a second longer than it had any right to. Bonnie watched as the leaves swirled around them - maybe, just maybe...
Even though the Other Side was gone, maybe a piece of Amelia's soul had lingered here.
It was wistful thinking. Bonnie and Damon had watched the Other Side collapse, and its inhabitants finding peace (or hell) at the very last second. She knew better than almost anyone: the dead would never come back to this plane of reality.
The awe on Stefan's face almost made her wish otherwise. He reached out to take a leaf, before they fell at his feet.
"I should get back to my run," Bonnie said, glancing back towards the road.
"Already?" Stefan blinked back surprise. "If you want to tell her something, I'll-"
"Don't worry about it." Bonnie shook her head. She didn't know great-Grams like Stefan. There had been no inside jokes, no witty banter, no lost love between them. If anything, she was the intruder. "I know you wanted some alone time."
When he reached out for her hand, she didn't resist.
He began, stumbling over most of his words, "You know... Amelia studied anthropology too. She was fascinated with the culture surrounding witches and vampires, and how we tried to co-exist."
Bonnie's expression softened. "Is that so?"
He nodded. "I was thinking, maybe I shouldn't be the only one with Amelia stories."
They sat at the foot of her grave longer than Bonnie would've liked to admit, with Bonnie weaving wildflower chains as Stefan regaled her with story after story of Amelia's bravery and intelligence and sheer willpower. There was so much awe in his voice that for a moment, he seemed more like seventeen than a hundred and sixty eight.
With all of his world-weariness, Bonnie realized, Stefan was denied the greatest adventure of them all. Adulthood would always be beyond his grasp, and the more he talked about Grams - Sheila - and babysitting her with Lexi's help, the more wistful his voice grew.
No wonder he'd taken Caroline's pregnancy so hard. Magical spell or not, Caroline got to experience more of adulthood than either Salvatore could've hoped for.
As the final story began, Bonnie squeezed his hand tight. "Thank you."
Stefan tilted his head. "For what?"
"For sharing your love with me." She took a moment to tie a chain of wildflowers around his wrist, murmuring a protection spell against it. (Great-Grams would've done it, she thought.) "For being you? For... all of today, I guess."
He squeezed her hand back. "I'm only sorry I didn't do it sooner."
That night, Bonnie's dreams were set in the living room of Lockwood Manor. The bright lights couldn't mask a burgeoning, vibrant party with guests at every corner. Bonnie could see her friends - Caroline, Tyler, Jeremy, Matt, Damon and even Enzo and Nora - prepare for the whole grand shindig. Jeremy and Tyler were arguing about something as they set up party lights; Damon and Enzo were arranging the open bar; and Caroline had the lay of the land with her trusty clipboard. (Elena, as always, was lying peacefully on the couch, nestled in layers upon layers of warm, comfortable blankets.)
"Hurry up, Bonnie," Caroline was yelling at the top of her lungs. "We can't do this without you!"
Bonnie laughed, turning towards the bustling crowd. "Alright, alright! Just give me a minute!"
"We're the ones with eternity here," Damon's voice called, holding up a hazy glass of bourbon as if toasting her name. "Come on, Bon-Bon! You don't have forever!"
As she rushed to help him with the open bar, she knew that long as she had them every step of the way, she would never need the Other Side again.
author's note
This fic uses information revealed in the TVD comics, such as Stefan's former relationship with Amelia Bennett (Grams's mother) in the 70's, as well as Bonnie's tea parties with Bennett witches in s5. While current canon hasn't contradicted this, it hasn't confirmed it either as of S7.