DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this. L. J. Smith and the CW own it all.
Bonnie walked into the boarding house with a purpose, out to kill Damon for the murders she knew had been him. She'd heard Caroline's mother talking about it to another Founding Family member, though they obviously didn't know who had done it. Bonnie had instantly known that Damon had been behind it. She didn't know how she knew; she just did.
"Damon!" she screamed, slamming the door behind her. "Where are you, you lying son-of-a-bitch?!" There was no answer from the house, though she knew someone was home. She stomped out of the room and to the stairs, on a mission to find him and kill him. Thankfully, Stefan wasn't home; he would have tried to stop her rampage and be all noble about it. Honestly, Bonnie was happy that Elena had found someone that she could be happy with, but the vampire was horribly annoying at times.
When Bonnie burst through Damon's bedroom door, she had expected him to be lying on his bed sucking down more blood, or screwing some compelled girl who was way, way out of his league. Instead, she found a quiet, empty room that was way too well put together to be qualified as Damon's room. She'd never seen his room before, now that she thought of it. To her left was the bathroom; she had a sudden urge to run into it and stare at the magnificence of it.
"Damon!" she called this time, unsure if her magic had led her wrong this time. She realized that she was staring, now at the huge bed, as she walked around the foot of it.
A soft, annoyed voice from the floor on the other side of the bed mumbled, "What do you want, witch?"
Bonnie's anger flared up again until she caught sight of Damon where he was on the floor. He was leaning against his bed, his knees drawn to his chest, a glass of liquor in his hand; the bottle was on its side a few feet away from him, completely empty. The look on his face had Bonnie rethinking her plans to kill him.
The sudden awkward feeling of finding him in such a state had her stumbling over her words. "Uh…why are you…um…sitting on the floor?"
Damon shrugged. "Figured I'd get too drunk to stay on my bed." His voice sounded different even as he said that.
Bonnie frowned at Damon. She blew it off and pushed on with her plan. "You killed those hikers, didn't you?" she demanded, her hands on her hips now. "Sheriff Forbes was talking about it today! She told Mrs. Lockwood about them, and I overheard. I thought we had an agreement, Damon. You wouldn't kill anyone anymore! You promised!"
That signature smirk raised a corner of his mouth. "Promised? Vampire," he reminded her. "And since when do you trust me?"
Bonnie's eyes narrowed and she focused on her magic just for a moment, giving Damon a small jolt of an aneurism. He grunted, his eyes grimacing.
"I don't trust you," she spat at him. "But I trust Elena, and she trusts you for some reason. Now, tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now?"
Damon rolled his eyes. "Showing mercy, witch? I'm surprised you're giving me a chance to dissuade you at all."
"Chalk it up to insanity," Bonnie muttered.
Damon sighed, wincing a little. He let his legs slide down away from his chest until they were flat to the floor. A big, nasty, green wound oozed a little on his chest, his black t-shirt ripped. "The hikers weren't me," he hissed, pressing his palm to the wound. "It was one of Katherine's cronies. While I was fighting him, Katherine was laughing as she circled us, waving a silver dagger at me. I don't know how she got the dagger or what it was made out of, but she stabbed me after I killed her companion and it hasn't healed yet. I tried pouring alcohol into it for Christ's sake, and it still hasn't healed." Damon looked up at Bonnie with a look in his eyes that Bonnie had never seen. "I know I seem all macho vampire to you people, but I don't actually want to die."
Bonnie stared at the usually smarmy vampire in surprise. "Damon Salvatore? Asking a witch for help?"
Damon shrugged and winced as the wound oozed more puss and started bleeding faster. "A vampire's gotta do what a vampire's gotta do."
Bonnie rolled her eyes and sighed. "Drag yourself out of that corner so I can get to you better. And try to take your shirt off."
Damon shook his head. "Yes to the first, but my shirt stays put. It hurts too much to take it off. I tried."
"Baby," Bonnie muttered as she went to his bathroom to gather a few towels, soap, and other things that she thought might help. On her way back to the complaining vampire, she grabbed a pair of scissors to cut his shirt away from the wound.
Damon was lying on the floor when she walked back over to him, sweat gleaming on his forehead. Bonnie set her supplies down and used the scissors to remove his shirt as he complained about her ruining a perfectly good shirt.
"So why did you come in here and pout instead of going to Stefan or Elena for help?" Bonnie asked as she worked.
Damon wasn't breathing at that point, but he started now so he could talk. "I don't usually beg for help," he said dryly with his jaw clenched shut. Bonnie could tell that he was trying to keep his face and teeth normal. She didn't know why, but she felt grateful of him because of that; she hated looking at that vampire face.
"Have you tried drinking blood to see if that would help?" Bonnie asked.
Damon nodded curtly once. "Please stop trying to get me to talk. I appreciate the gesture, but please, just stop." Appreciate? Bonnie wasn't sure if she should feel weirded out that Damon was thanking her in a roundabout way, or pleased that he would even think to thank her in the first place. She almost expected him to just snap at her; that's what she would have done had she been the one that had a gaping would in her chest.
"Alright…" Bonnie muttered. "So, you don't have any disinfectant or antiseptic. Got any ideas?"
He slowly shook his head. "Do something witchy, or something." Damon watched Bonnie closely as she stared thoughtfully at his wound. Her furrowed brow almost made him smile despite the pain he was in. Katherine had really done a number on him this time; he only hoped that the blade she'd used wasn't poisonous or something.
"Maybe it had vervain on it?" Bonnie mused aloud.
Damon shook his head. "It would have healed by now and been more painful than this." The way he said it made him sound like an impatient jackass, and he expected Bonnie to lash out at him, but she stayed oddly calm. "Take your time," he muttered mutinously, closing his eyes for a moment. "It's not like I'm dying an awful death right now or anything."
It seemed Bonnie hadn't been listening to his short rant; an intense stinging feeling spread from the wound in Damon's chest, and he groaned deeply, reaching out for anything to grip and finding Bonnie's knee. He grasped it, trying to be gentle, but damn; whatever she was doing with her magic hurt like a bitch.
Just when the burning heat felt like it would be too much, it stopped. Bonnie's head lolled forward on her shoulders as she gasped; her palm rested on Damon's bare stomach for support.
"You…ok?" Damon gasped. He swore softly under his breath, confused about why that had hurt so much.
It took a short moment for Bonnie to answer, but she nodded. "Just tired," she breathed. "Sorry about hurting you."
Even though the witch had just apologized to him without being sarcastic, he didn't think about it much; he realized that he was still gripping her knee. He was pretty sure he'd given her bruises, but she seemed to be fine. She got busy then, resting a damp, hot rag over Damon's wound and pressing her hand on it gently. He winced, trying to stay still. She wiped the puss and blood from around the wound, dropping the rag to the floor before picking up the scissors.
"I believe there is a piece of dagger stuck in there," she said, giving him an apologetic look. "I have to cut it open a little more to get it out."
Damon sighed. At least that wouldn't be as painful as the burning.
Bonnie grimaced as she positioned the scissors at the edges of the wound. "Sorry," she said before she cut. Blood gushed a little more, making it hard to see the small, shiny piece of dagger. "Sorry, sorry, sorry…" Bonnie really hated causing people pain, even those people that she hated.
Damon hadn't moved an inch when she'd done that, so she thought maybe it didn't hurt as much. When she did it to the other side, he grunted once, the blood gushing more. She winced a little and focused, using her magic just enough to push the blood away from the dagger tip. She was sure it was the tip now and gave Damon a warning look before she dug it out of his wound. As she focused, she felt Damon's hand grip her knee again.
The dagger tip came out pretty easily, but as soon as she got it out, a thought occurred to her. How did she know that he was telling the truth about the hikers?
"Your thoughts are really open right now," he commented, watching her work. He'd never seen her brows furrow so much; the little spot between her eyebrows was kind of…dare he think it…adorable. "And you probably shouldn't trust me, Bonnie. But you are, so there must be some level of trust between us."
Bonnie rolled her eyes and pinched Damon's skin together so it would heal faster. The wound, now with the infection burned out of it—which was what Bonnie had done with her magic—was bleeding freely and binding together quickly.
"I don't think it was poisonous," Bonnie mumbled, watching his skin seal shut. "I think the piece of dagger was just not allowing it to heal right away."
Damon groaned, stretching on the floor. Bonnie was suddenly mesmerized by the way his muscles moved under his skin. His taut stomach rippled as he wiggled a little. When he sat up, it caused their faces to be mere inches apart. Bonnie gasped, backing away uncomfortably and gasping when he snatched her wrist up. He held it for only a few seconds before very gently pulling her back toward him.
"Thank you," he offered softly, his light blue eyes staring deeply into hers. "I didn't think you would actually help me. So…thank you."
Bonnie swallowed hard before answering. "You're…welcome," she replied, the words sounding foreign in her mouth while talking to Damon. She felt the need to get as far away from him as possible because of the sudden awkwardness. The only thing stopping her from bolting out of that room, though, was the expression on his face. "There's still something wrong," she breathed, staring into those light blue eyes. Usually, they had up an impenetrable wall of snarky attitude; now, though, they looked so clear that she felt like she was staring into his soul.
"What makes you say that?" he asked softly, staring right back.
She gave a pointed look at his hand where it was still wrapped around her wrist. "Well, for starters, you're still holding my wrist. Also, you haven't said any smartass comments about how close together we are. And you haven't put up your shield yet. Your eyes look so…pure."
Damon let go of her wrist instantly, the wall still not there. "Pure? What an oxymoron. A pure vampire. Bah!" He started to move away from her, but this time, she grabbed his wrist.
"Damon, wait," she mumbled when he looked back at her. "Tell me. We may not be friends, but Elena—"
"Elena this, Elena that," Damon muttered, yanking his hand away from Bonnie. "Why do the things we talk about always have to come back to Elena somehow?"
Bonnie was shocked. It sounded like Damon was sick of hearing what Elena had to say. "Because you are in love with her," Bonnie reminded him.
Damon rolled his eyes and that wall slammed down over them, shutting Bonnie out.
"You're not in love with her?"
He made a Damon-esque annoyed face. "Considering the near-death experience I just had that included Katherine, I'm not feeling very happy with our doppelganger at the moment." He gave her a mocking smile though it didn't at all reach his eyes.
Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "So the more you begin to hate Katherine, the unhappier you become with loving Elena. Interesting."
Damon shook his head and stood, walking into his bathroom. The gentle sway of his hips made Bonnie smile a little. She watched as he stopped in front of his mirror, resting his hands on the counter and letting his head drop forward. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice echoing a little because of the bathroom. "You know, I am trying to be nicer to you. To everyone in general actually. Elena wanted me to because everyone is her friend." Damon rolled his eyes and pushed off the counter, walking back into his bedroom. Bonnie was still kneeling on the floor, the damp rag in her hands now; when she caught sight of his eyes, she noticed that he seemed to be fighting to keep that wall up. He was failing miserably though. Damon's blood was still on her hands, but she was fascinated for some reason while she watched Damon that she didn't really care.
Damon went on. "I can't believe I'm still crawling after her, just like I crawled after Katherine. I have to stop. This needs to stop." He strode over to Bonnie and before she could react, he pulled her up by her underarms and kissed her soundly on the mouth.
Bonnie's palm landed with a resounding slap on Damon's cheek, jerking his head to the side. She immediately regretted it, even though she didn't show that to him, as she stared at Damon with wide, angry eyes.
"Don't you ever do that again!" she yelled, stomping out of the room, grumbling about vampires and their pushy habits as she went. Little did she know, Damon was watching her with a look on his face that resembled a lost puppy.
He didn't follow her though, only took another bottle of expensive booze from a stash in his closet and curled up on that same side of his bed to drink his woes away. Only, his woes weren't totally focused on Katherine and Elena; Bonnie's face floated in his eyes as well as he let himself be completely vulnerable to the wall he was staring at. The way Bonnie had been treating him while helping him had made him realize, even in just a few minutes, that she wasn't as bad as she acted around him. She did have compassion, even for vampires, and she wanted to show it. He could tell that by what he had heard in her thoughts while she'd worked on fixing his wound. Even though the hate-hate relationship between the two of them never seemed to break, Damon knew that she would be hurt if he died.
He'd heard the beginning of her thoughts after his wound had healed too; she'd watched him as he stretched out in front of her, and he kind of like that fact that she had been checking him out a little. Not that the egotistical vampire really needed his ego boosted at all.
When half the bottle of booze was gone, Damon was fairly drunk considering before Bonnie had shown up, he'd had an entire bottle gone. He stood wobbly from his hiding spot, hugging the half empty bottle to his chest, and wandered down the stairs to the blood freezer Stefan still kept. After gathering a couple bags, he warmed them up in the microwave, the only human appliance that the brothers really needed. As he was pouring the bags into a glass, he heard Stefan's Porsche pull into the driveway. Before his brother could find him like this, Damon sauntered back to his room, stumbling on the way.
Hours later in the shower, he was blaming the shampoo that was making the tears come from his eyes.