Title: Lurk

Pairing: Bonkai, hints of Bamon.

Word Count: 1381

Warning: Uh, nothing at the moment. (That's a surprise).

AN: This is a little, teeny, tiny prologue before I start smacking the big stuff in your face. This is probably the only story which I genuinely have a plot written out for- at least three chapters. After that, I'm winging it, just thought I'd let you know. But yes, bonkai, it's a disease, that I'm loving. This actually fits in with the recent stabby incident, so I hope you like it.

Disclaiming.

"I did what I had to do to survive."

That was the phrase which rolled off her tongue 9 times out of 10, as soon as her feet sunk back into her own reality and she watched his blur fade into the distance, to justify herself and her fresher scars. They were all brimming with questions she didn't want to answer, but then again nothing could be a secret within their group. Damon was the only one which let her have her distance, but even that couldn't last forever. His guilt would come knocking, drive him mad not knowing what she'd gone through after saving him. After she'd forced his hand and sent him back into the arms of a girl who had chosen to forget him.

Drinking was something that Old Bonnie didn't do often enough in Caroline's opinion, but nowadays she couldn't go without a glass to get her through the days and numb whatever pain she was going through. Not that Caroline didn't try to needle it out of her, slowly prying and hoping the dam would burst like it usually would but as soon as she lifted the lid- it snapped shut once again, with a thousand more locks than before.

"You know," His voice carried through the bar, as he took the stool next to her whilst she simply stared into space. "Someone would think you're avoiding me."

Damon motioned the bartender over, ordering his own drink before her let his eyes wander to the witch. More specifically lingering on a particular scar which slid of her throat, thin like a knifes edge that had been slowly dragged across her throat. It had once been immaculate flesh, despite the fact that Damon had sunk his fangs in there once before- but that was all done and dusted in his books. Bonnie was his main concern right now, since he couldn't be with Elena then he might as well worry about his second favourite girl. The same which swirled her glass before knocking back the amber liquid like a pro- it made him wonder who taught her how to handle her booze, because before all of this she'd been the lightest weight of them all.

"Someone should take a hint." Bonnie snarked back, the empty glass clinking as she dropped it back onto the bar and easily had another one placed in front of her in a matter of seconds.

"They're worried about you," Damon carried on, watching as her shoulders stiffened ever so slightly and her lips pursed, "All of them."

"And you, are you worried about me Damon?" Bonnie asked coolly, clasping her new glass but simply lifting it. She'd been at this for a few hours, drinking and thinking, hoping that her liver would fail on her or she'd be so drunk she'd finally black out. Instead she stared at the amber liquid in the bottom of her glass, wondering how many she'd had.

"I dunno, is there something to worry about, other than your sudden hatred for your liver?" Damon asked, all jokes and smirks but Bonnie could see the real question in his eyes. How serious he actually was, how seriously she'd been worrying everyone for Damon to actually be concerned for her. Sometimes she liked to think it was the time they spent together in 1994, sometimes the thought that they could have been friends, and then sometimes she woke up screaming because of nightmares where Damon was the star.

"No, just trying to get my head around things again," Bonnie said quietly, lies rolled off her tongue easier and they didn't taste so bitter anymore. "Just give me a week or two and I'll be fine."

In a week or two, she could be dead.

But they didn't need to know that, all they'd think was that she left Mystic Falls for good and her communication immediately dropped. That she didn't want to talk to them. That she was alive and she was free. They'd fallen for it once before, why would this time be any different? Death was becoming a prominent figure in her life, more reliable than her parents had been during her youth, than her friends, than every relationship in her life.

Jeremy had heard of her miraculous resurrection, had been over to Caroline's within matter of minutes and everyone had presumed everything would fall back into how it had once been. Maybe Bonnie was sick of it though? Maybe it had been the faint wisp of womens perfume that clung to him? Had he even tried to bring her back or simply delved back into sleeping around? Did she have any right to be angry with him whatsoever?

Damon watched her brow pull together angrily as she stared into her glass before she knocked it back once again, though this time when she slammed it down, her other hand came down with a wad of dollar bills. Finally done for the day, and pleasantly numb, she waved goodbye to the bartender and slid of her stool- walking away without a stumble in her step and her head held high. She was Bonnie Bennett, and she didn't do drunk. It simply wasn't done.

So she would walk a certain distance from the bar before pulling out her phone and calling a cab, giving him directions to Caroline's new home where she was staying at the moment. Magic didn't work in Mystic Falls, not that Bonnie had her magic back yet- it'd take a while before she'd be able to channel it all out of her beloved Ms. Cuddles... if Damon ever returned it, that is.

If Caroline had a problem with the stench of whiskey on her breath when she walked in, then the blonde had enough tact to not mention it, simply saying that she changed the sheets on her bed. All the better for Bonnie as she crawled into her bed fully clothed, the scent of fresh cotton and the comfort knowing she was safer sending her to sleep within a matter of seconds.

"Is she asleep?"

"Yeah," Caroline murmured as she shut the door, walking down the stairs silently as she let her best friend snooze away in the comfort of her bed. Knowing that when she woke up, the hangover she'd have would be killer.

"There's something she's not telling us."

"Gee Damon, what possibly gave you that idea?" Caroline drawled, rolling her eyes as she tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, pottering around the kitchen absentmindedly. It wasn't like she was enjoying this, all Bonnie ever seemed to do was mope and drink. It was like Damon after he'd found out Katherine wasn't in the tomb, or what she'd heard he was like. Some part of her screamed to confront Bonnie, to not let up until she knew what was wrong with her best friend and until she could fix it, and another part whispered for her to leave her be, to let her mourn and cope.

"Less of the sass, blondie," Damon huffed, and Caroline could practically see his lips tug into a sneer. "If it was a danger to all of us-"

"The Bonnie would have said something," Caroline insisted, ear perking slightly as she heard her simply roll over in her sleep.

"Then it's a danger to her."

The blonde sighed heavily, this is martyr shit was getting old.

So yeah, that was really short but next chapter will be up soon.