Chapter 1

Bonnie runs, throwing spells over her shoulder through the network of alleyways. Whomever is giving chase has elevated their efforts to capture her, but alas its not enough. The druid pair she had met up with were more than capable of handling themselves in this fracas. She hooks into a garbage bin at the next corner. Taking in a soothing breath to calm her heart, she recites a spell to blend into the darkness of the alley, while hovering over the bin. It's the Armory personnel that passes beneath her. She gives it a minute, drops to the ground, then sprints into the opposing shadowy alley to disappear. Hopping over the fence at the end, she melds into the available sidewalk traffic. She can see a subway entry up ahead. Checking behind her one more time, she dips down the stairs, pays the fare and catches a ride on the train.

The shaking lulls her into meditation. She would have contacted Enzo before the exchange, but it was time sensitive. He would scold her on her lone wolf tactics. She would remind him she's a Bennett witch, forced to care for herself early in life. A short childhood spent mostly alone, made permanent connections rare. After Damon casted her aside, she got depressed. She was devastated he had pick Elena over her, but this was crueler this time. It was like he couldn't wait for her to… time with her was not as valuable as being with Elena. The stinging was there behind everything; time had made it manageable. She had crawled within herself, making Caroline take care of three babies instead of two. Thank god Caroline supported her through her crisis, to remind her of the beauty, despite the angst. The unwavering cheerleader was a lifeline to sanity, with her daughters, Lizzie and Josie, adding much needed joy. They had given her a chance to see that their introduction to magic would be less dire than hers. Well, she was trying to; Ric was heading up a passive resistance. He had become burnt out with the supernatural, becoming a 'limited' member of the very group that was hunting her. Caroline assured her of the strategic advantages of having him close to the Armory. It was a small early alert system, that was better than nothing. Bonnie had some doubts, but never told her friend, hoping her trust was well placed. After all, her best friend had let her amble in a Muskoka chair in her backyard, viewing the monotonous Dallas landscape, for a month and a half.

Those days were spent staring off into the distance, replaying how she got to this point yet again, with the nights dreaming on repeat. For almost two months, the dream generally stayed the same. A raining storm cloud above her head, with Damon holding an umbrella. Goddess, she hated him, but every night he was there with that fucking umbrella. As if that would make up for ditching her. But in the dreamscape, she learned to live with it. Thou the rejection upon her heart never fully healed, with dream Damon's help, she endured. Damn him. After those two months, she booked her first trip to Salem, with Damon mocking her itinerary to see where witches died and badly; Emo much? She investigated the Bennett line for more family and sought tutelage. He declares not to lose hope, they are out there and be weary of the 'overly helpful' teachers. Plus, Lucy still lives; a miracle considering how the woman roams into trouble at times. Bonnie has also mastered the art of fake ids, cause announcing oneself as a Bennett was a quick way to get dead. Damon is tickled by her foray into the criminal element, wondering when she's getting a tat. And where? She worked on her magic; technically Qetsiyah magic, tempering it with her psyche. She was stronger, but it was still got dicey when she pushed it beyond her limit. So, he takes her mind off misadventures, painting and blowing her toes, one by one. Nice warm fuzzies spread forth, making her shiver back to her original focus. Her abilities now were complemented with nimble potion making, when she has the time to mix. She was figuring out her own path, but still it was tethered to another's that impede her own.

She returned to Dallas often, but Mystic Falls was barely if possible. It only held ache, potential debilitating ache. She would have a quick bite at the bar with Matt and catch up on superficial things, as Matt had further rutted himself in his disdain of the supernatural. He had become worse after Penny's death. The warmth and understanding that shone in his blue eyes had dimmed. She was not sure why she was doing this to herself. She could not be who she was in front of one of her oldest friends. It bugged her, but it was an hour and half routine or less. She tried, as they both ignored the elephant in the room. The one she found out just over two years ago, when the Armory started hunting her. Seven months ago, she had sneaked back into town to got to the library, hoping not to alert anyone. She had wagered wrong. The rare text she was raring for was denied for a game of hide and go seek, with the Armory through the stacks. Only with Enzo's help did she manage to elude the enemy, giving him an unexpected date with Bonnie, that lead to their current coupling.

He had asked for a drink, after he saved her in the library; she assumed it would be at the bar. She had ended up at a cozy booth in a candle lit restaurant. He plied her with proses of her beauty and she let him brush his lips over her ear. It was nice to hear platitudes with no strings. All he ever wanted was to belong. And he was asking to belong to Bonnie and that appealed to her on so many levels. To be first, to be the only one was what she wanted, so why not try with Enzo? Enzo's creepy love for Lily was offset by his fierce loyalty. She was not a teenage girl in love, merrily dreaming of encompassing hearts. She was a grown woman looking to partner up, and it could be inexact, with room to grow. But when they settled down, when it got slow, would they still be okay? How much of the charge and urgency fueled them? Did it really matter if she was not fully satisfied? Time was short for her, and couldn't find a reason to deny herself. It wasn't perfect but no coupling was. Dating Enzo on the current erratic path spiked with fleeting danger for the last six months, had been fast paced indulgence. Rayna, joining in the fray only added to the frenetic tension of their relationship.

Bonnie plays with the ring on her index that he had given her a couple months ago. Nothing symbolic just a little old ring that he thought she would like. She felt nothing but old cold steel, unusual for a ring this aged, but it did happen. He wanted her to know he was serious. She did her best to temper his adulation, trying to tie him to the fast pace realities of now. She felt bad about the little deception she kept up to Enzo in relation to Damon, but she hoped the dreams would dissipate when they got together; that hoped had been dashed when Damon spelled out the downfalls of the current pairing. She didn't want to make blind promises and empty declarations. Bonnie believe Enzo deserved a chance at open and genuine affair, she didn't want to short change him with an unbeknownst threesome. She wanted to see if what she has with him can lead to more, but Damon was there every night, now questioning her logic. Trying to get her to stop running blindly. Telling her to question the wanker. He assures her he can help, that he will protect her. But, he was asleep, waiting on Elena, empty reprieves held up by broken promises.

These new declarations had made the dream world tempestuous of late, hollowing out the progress that had been made. Bonnie was close to casting a spell to stop these endless interactions with Damon. She scolded herself, as she should have casted it sooner; she told no one of these dreams, feeling foolish enough for hanging on for this long. Maybe she was coming to an end, reaching closure. She couldn't deny they had touched on some of the fears that propelled them away from each other, yet other things were left unsaid that would fester. And that was better then admitting that between them there might be more. Maybe, once the Armory and Rayna was behind her she, maybe with Enzo by her side, Damon would be left in her memory of 1994. But when she slept, there he was hanging around, unnervingly close, suggesting 'The Bodyguard' to watch. She misses him but she will never tell him this. He is not hers and she has someone else. So why is it always back to him? Smirking in her dream, Damon's voice promises hellfire for those who dare touch what's his.

"Don't worry, lil bird." he coos. She chastises herself because she is still gives him credence.