He was a psychopath, he knew that. He also knew that he had gone insane, and his insanity just kept getting worse. A person would think that after years, it would start to get better, but that wasn't the case with Damon. It seemed that as the days went by, he just kept spiraling downward. The only thing that kept him from hitting rock bottom was Bonnie. That stupid little witch who wouldn't leave him alone. A distant part of his brain knew that he should have been thankful for her, but he just couldn't. He knew that she had saved his ass on more than one occasion, and she just kept doing it.
She would bring him back from drunken nights when he was passed out in a ditch. She would keep him safe when the police began to get too suspicious. She did so much for him, but Damon could never bring himself to be grateful to her. He kept feeling like she was trying to babysit him. He didn't need a babysitter. He was almost two hundred years old. So, he held a tone of resentment toward the little witch. Because he knew that she was holding out on him with what happened at the final battle. But, he'd be lying if he said that they didn't have their good moments. Neither of them liked one another two much, but they had been living together for the last three years, and they did have good times.
It was usually just after Damon would drag himself out of his dark place, when he was still a bit disoriented. Bonnie would usually be close by after, and he'd be somewhat glad for her presence. He hated being alone after. Because the place he went to, he was always alone there. He was alone, and it would be dark, and he hated it. So, a familiar person nearby afterwards was comforting. Not that he'd ever admit that to her. She probably knew that, though, or at least she sensed it. She was very good when it came to knowing when to leave him alone, and when to stay close. Spending three years together does have its benefits.
Something he would never got used to, or like, was that she was still very judgmental of him and his actions. She didn't say as much these days, but he could see it in those faded eyes. He knew that what he did was wrong, but he never realized until after. He could never remember killing people, but apparently he did. It was liked he would black out. Bonnie didn't believe him so much at first, but then she eventually backed off. Still, she would shake her head when she watched the news. She would look away. The witch wasn't happy about what he did, but he never tried to justify his actions to her. Mainly because he didn't know why he did it, but also because it was none of her business. What he did was his business, and his alone.
Sometimes he thought he'd like to talk to her. He'd like to talk to her about what was going on in his head, because there were very dark thoughts in there. Thoughts of murder and suicide, and how he should be punished for failing Elena. Thoughts of what a horrible person he was for letting his brother die. These thoughts came every day. He would try to drown them with alcohol, but that never did help much. All that did was numb the pain of the losses that neither he nor Bonnie really dealt with, and the numbing never lasted long, so it wasn't really worth the headache that he got after. There were times when he thought he should tell her about those thoughts, but he couldn't bring himself too. He didn't need her pitying him any more than she already did.
Damon wasn't always sure why he let her stick around. If he wanted to leave and not have her find him, then he could do that. But, is that what he really wanted? No, he didn't. Well, maybe sometimes it was what he wanted, but it was never what he needed. What he needed was Bonnie. He needed someone around that understood somewhat of the pain he was feeling. He needed someone that he knew. It was hard to explain, and mostly he didn't think about it. All he knew was that he needed her around because she was Bonnie, and he never tried to look any further than that.
Now, the two of them were sitting in their shabby living room. Bonnie was reading, and he was drinking. That's all the two of them seemed to do. When she got home from whatever useless job she was working now, she would read. And when he got home from whatever mayhem he was causing that day, he would drink. They would sit together and barely speak. There were never needed words. Every now and again, Bonnie would ask him a question, just to see if he was still with her. Then she would go back to her book, and they would be swallowed in silence again. He barely started their conversations. He never thought there was anything to say, but now was different. Now, it was too quiet, and he could feel himself slipping.
"Do you think they're happy?" He asked in a small voice.
Bonnie looked up at him and blinked three times. She seemed confused by the question for a long time, but eventually she answered. "Yeah, Damon." Her mouth was set into a grim line. "I'm sure they're very happy." Her eyes looked him up and down, and he could practically see the wheels in her head turning. She was trying to figure out what was wrong with him. She was curious because he hardly talked about them. No, he never talked about them. Neither of them did. It was just too painful.
"I bet she's an angel." He said, mostly to himself.
Of course, Bonnie knew who he was referring to. "Elena with wings." She laughed lightly- a sound that was so rare around there. "She'd be even more beautiful. All the other angels would be bowing at her feet."
He felt a smile creep its way onto his lips as he thought of Elena as an angel. Bonnie was right. She'd be even more beautiful. She'd shine even brighter. He never thought something like that would be possible, but if she was an angel, then it would be. Smiling was so odd since he hadn't done it in such a long time, but his face was twisted into a full grin now. "Caroline would be jealous."
She laughed again. "Stefan would be irritated." She added, and when he looked over at her, he noticed that she was smiling too. When was the last time that either of them had smiled, or laughed? Long before the final battle, that was for sure. Every smile after that would have been forced; it wouldn't have been easily like it was now.
But, he knew it wouldn't last long. After Bonnie's voice faded, silence cut between them again. And silence was never a good thing. The silence brought the pain of missing his brother, Elena, Alaric, and God, even Caroline. None of them had made it out of Mystic Falls alive. None of them had stayed with him. They had all left him alone. They left him alone with Bonnie of all people. But, every one of them had gone down fighting. None of them had backed down in fear. They were true heroes. Damon had saw Stefan go down, and even though it haunted him every night, he saw him go down fighting. He fought with a sword like a prince. He fought the darkness, and even though he lost, he won in a way. He had stopped the darkness from spreading. They all did.
His chest ached as he thought about the final battle. He watched his brother go down. He hadn't seen Elena one last time, and part of his regretted it, but part of him was glad. What would his nightmares be like if he saw Elena die every night? They would be worse. He would be worse. He had seen a lot of people die, Stefan, Sherriff Forbes, Tyler Lockwood, that Original that he didn't know so well- Kol. The darkness killed them all. Damon knew it. Bonnie knew it. Neither of them talked about it because there was no way to explain it. The darkness had taken most of the town. It made no sense, he had nightmares from it, he saw it every day, and it lurked in the back of his mind. The darkness, that is. And even though that she didn't talk about it, he knew that it had affected Bonnie too. He couldn't say anything about anyone else that lived, but he knew about him and Bonnie.
Damon stole a sideways glance at the witch now. She was sitting rather stiffly, with her lips pressed closed, and her eyes fixed on the darkness outside of the window. He looked at her up and down. She looked so small and frail; so much more than she had before. She had always been just a slip of a girl, but her presence made her seem larger than life. Now, though, that was all difference. She had lost so much weight, her cheeks were sunk in, her eyes were hallowed, nothing about her seemed like it held life. She cowered, and some part of her always seemed to be shaking. Despite being so strong still, she was so weak. It had taken the life from her- from both of them. The only difference was, Damon knew what was happening to him, and though a distant part of Bonnie might have known, she never acknowledged it.
Tears. Tears were streaming down the witch's face. Her face showed no emotion, though. It rarely did. Neither of them showed much emotion. Damon sighed inwardly, and turned his face to look at the wall. He should have said something, should have comforted her, but he didn't. There was nothing he could say to make her friends come back. There was nothing no one could say that would make the pain go away. They were both doomed to go through this life. But, eventually she would die. She was just human, after all. His jaw clenched, and an ache formed in his chest at the thought. Eventually she would leave him like everyone else did. He would be alone, and he would be that way forever.
The thought of Bonnie dying was nearly unbearable. It wasn't because he liked her – because he didn't, it was just because he didn't want to be alone. He needed someone. He would fall right off of his rocker if he was alone. He would become a full-blown monster. There would be nothing good left in him once she died. In a sense, she was the only thing that was keeping him grounded. Without her, he would fall into the pit of darkness and despair. It was a place that he could sense he was going towards, and he didn't like it at all. Bonnie was a light, though a very dim one, in this place that had to be Hell. They never did anything to try to help one another, they never did anything to try to make one another like each other, and they barely even talked. But they lived together, they shared a comfortable silence, content that neither of them had to be alone.