A/N: I've changed the events that happened right after Jeremy died, Bonnie wasn't taken out of the cave by Silas, etc. You'll see :).
Summary: Bonnie and Jeremy reunite on the OtherSide, and Bonnie shares her plan.
The Curse of Aching Hearts
When Bonnie opened her eyes, the pain was remarkably absent from her chest; she was almost woozy from the relief. Nothing hurt. She blinked and worked her throat but found that she didn't need to swallow.
The room she occupied was horizontal, and she realized that she was laying on her right side, her arm outstretched and holding her head. She sat up and couldn't feel the wooden floor she used to support her palm even though her brain told her she should feel it. She recognized the floor even though this version of it was clean. There was not a speck of dust, no cobwebs. She looked around and was in awe of the Witch House's condition. It was pristine, exactly how it looked when the construction meant to hide the violent sins of the past had been completed.
She stood, and it required no effort. She touched her chest and started at the fact that it no longer moved up and down. She wasn't breathing; her heart wasn't moving; did she still possess a heart? Was her heart simply still or was it completely gone from her chest? Her hand moved to her left breast. Well, she still had breasts and every external body part, so maybe she still had a heart.
"Bonnie."
Her musings fell from her mind. The voice was all around her on the first syllable of her name; it echoed on the first syllable and coalesced to one point on the second syllable.
"Jeremy," she said, relieved. She didn't need to search for him. He walked in from the hallway that led out of the house.
"Bonnie." His surprise showed in his eyes and the quickness of his steps. "What are you doing here?"
For a moment the hug she gave him was more important than any answer. He stooped to let her arms wrap more comfortably about his neck. He closed his eyes, and he remembered the last time they'd hugged, and the memory filled in the absence of physical feeling that was on the OtherSide, that was in this hug.
"Jeremy," Bonnie forced out. She pressed her cheek against his and imagined warmth. She touched his hair, from the top of his head to the nape of his neck, and imagined how soft it was. She pressed herself against him and remembered what it meant to mold with him, remembered how perfectly they fit together. She remembered only because memory was all one had in death. She'd never pondered on her physicality with Jeremy. Alive, her thoughts had never gone further than "He feels nice. It feels nice. This feels nice."
But in death, on the OtherSide, they fit perfectly together.
Jeremy unclasped her arms from around his neck and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you." The tone of her voice shocked both of them to their cores. It was a spine-tingling sob; a disturbing lament because she couldn't produce tears. She realized she was crying. Her face was dry; her body couldn't cry, so she cried with her voice.
The immediate concern on Jeremy's face at the tone of her voice produced a visceral memory of a heart breaking open to reveal another heart that was redder and more full of emotion, one able to handle the look on his face.
She hugged him tight, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "You can't be here," he said into her neck, and his voice echoed again. The longing in it surprised him, and he fisted her dark blue jean jacket.
"You hear me?" He unlocked her hands again. "You have to leave."
"No."
"Bonnie-"
"I came to bring you back."
There was silence, and he looked at her, and she looked at him with green eyes burdened by the skin on her forehead that frowned over them, and a million touches and conversations passed between them.
"I came to bring you back," she said more calmly. "I can bring you back, Jeremy," she smiled.
There was so much hope in her eyes; they stretched her lips into a smile. He stepped closer to her, and touched her forehead with his and closed his eyes. Of course she'd come to bring him back. Of course she'd figured out a way to bring him back. He didn't know how, was pretty sure that it was risky and dangerous, but she'd come to bring him back. Whatever happened next, that fact was enough: she hadn't let him go.
"How?" he asked, but he already knew his answer: no.
"It's a sacrifice. A human sacrifice." She started to speak faster when she saw that she was losing him; his face was closing off at the suggestion. "That way we won't have to rely on the spirits, and there won't be any consequences."
"Except one."
"I can handle it."
"Bonnie-"
"I can handle killing someone."
His hands were just a little bit softer around her arms.
"It's the only way," she whispered.
"No, it isn't," he whispered back.
Now her face closed off.
"I can stay dead."
She looked down, and he wished she could feel his hands on her. He wished he had more ways to comfort her.
"I know it's hard, but...my time came."
She shook her head in denial, but she still looked down.
"I can stay here."
"No you can't," she looked at him abruptly and the cry-moan in her voice was back and it echoed in the pristine house.
"I'm not gonna let you kill someone. Not for me; not for anyone."
She closed her eyes and wished her chest would move. He didn't get it. He thought killing someone was the hard part. She's already living the hard part; she'll be living the hard part if he refuses.
"I can do it," her voice cried. "Abby's helping me, and my dad's on board, and this woman named Aja has helped me connect to my Natural magic. It's all set. I just need to pick someone."
"No. And your Natural magic? Bon, that's even more dangerous; you'll be pulling on your body."
"I'm going to prepare first; it's all laid out; I've got a mantra to help, and I'll be doing it in the woods. I'll be connected to Nature, to everything around me." She pressed her body closer to his while she spoke in an effort to convince him, in an effort to aid the words that were coming out of her mouth.
Jeremy stared down at her, their hands squished between their bodies. "No, Bonnie," he said quietly. He saw her eyes dim, the green fade.
"You don't wanna come back, do you?" It was a question, but she pronounced it like a statement, one full of finality.
Jeremy's brows moved, and Bonnie looked away for a different reason now.
"That's why I came," she said, and Jeremy wished he could hear emotion in her voice again. It was flat now. "I wanted to find out if it was okay to resurrect you. I wanted to make sure that you wanted to come back, that I wasn't pulling you away from...peace." She untangled their hands now and stepped back.
"You're at peace," her voice quivered with unshed tears.
There was the emotion again, and he could've sagged in relief. "Peace?" he questioned, but she didn't seem to hear him.
"You don't have to deal with all that stuff anymore, with...the crap that lead you here. You're away from it, you're-free. I know how much you hated it."
"I hated it, but I stayed for you," he said, and the vehemence in his voice could've lifted her up. "And Elena," he said more softly. "I hated it, but not so much that I would-" stay dead and leave you.
"Then why don't you come back?" Her voice was flat again. "My heart hurts, Jeremy," and the pain in her voice pierced his conscious, what he was made of now that he longer had a body.
"For me?"
She closed her eyes tight, and her mouth was closed, but a wail ghosted through the house, and a tremendous sob followed it. She was crying, and a resounding breathlessness emanated from Jeremy's conscious and filled the house. It was a desperate breathing filled with the desire to comfort her, to make her stop crying, to make her feel better.
He closed the gap between them in one step, grasped her face and watched her eyes open right before he captured her mouth and cut off the sobs.
Bonnie immediately opened up to him, and their tongues brushed against each other, and she understood why she'd appeared in the Witch House. This was their setting; this was where she loved him and brought him back to life; it was where he'd worried about her; it was where she'd woken from death and been welcomed by the comfort of his arms; this had been their getaway, their hideout while the fight with Klaus had been brewing in her future. This was where they'd first loved each other, him gentle and questioning because she'd just come back from death, and her reassuring and needing him all around her, needing the comfort of his body because she was alive again and wasn't sure how long that would last.
She'd realized she loved him then. As she'd climaxed and he'd huffed above her, she'd realized that she was in love with him. And she hadn't told him for the same reason she had considered breaking up with him the night of the sixties decade dance: she might die soon. She was undertaking a dangerous goal, and she felt like she was dragging him along, leading him to suffering and heartbreak. She couldn't truly fathom why he stayed.
She had decided to call him and tell him not to pick her up, that she'd meet him at school, that they should cool things off and wait until her fight with Klaus was over.
And she'd reneged on that decision because of one reason, a simple text: I'm on my way.
She'd sat on her bed in her go-go boots, psychedelic dress and bouffant, and she'd re-read the text carefully, all four words, four single syllables. She had a boyfriend, and he was on his way to pick her up. He was still coming to pick her up, despite the calling that might lead her to her tomb that night. She was happy with Jeremy; she wanted to be with him; she loved that he wanted to be with her.
Something had unfurled in her heart right then, but she'd pushed back against it. She might be dying. No reason to think about the road her heart wanted to reveal to her.
It was the sensible thing to break up with Jeremy. It was the selfless thing, set him free, free from worrying about her, free from impending heartache. Her mission was a burden on him; he wasn't happy with it. It was better to let him go, carry this out by herself.
But he was on his way. Despite everything, he was on his way. He'd dressed up, and he was on his way, and that made her happy. He made her happy. So she decided to forget about selflessness. Maybe it would be better for Jeremy to be free, but she might be dead by the end of the night, and he made her happy. She wanted to be happy if this was going to be her last night. She wanted to go on a date with her boyfriend.
So with a muted smile, she'd texted: "Okay."
Bonnie opened her eyes and smiled because Jeremy was peppering kisses along her lips. She'd never told him that story. She'd never told him she loved him. They'd broken up a couple of months later.
"For me?" he asked again.
"Yes," she said, and the empty Witch House seemed to become even cleaner.
She'd put her happiness ahead of an imposed sense of duty, once. She wanted to do it again. She can kill someone to bring him back.
"I miss you." She touched his black shirt and remembered that he'd been wearing it when he told her that she was in control. "I miss you a lot."
"I miss you, too," he said and stroke her cheek, his other hand around her waist and at the small of her back. He smiled a sad smile. "I'm so sorry."
"For what?" She frowned because she heard the sadness in his voice. Their emotions pressed against all corners of the house until it seemed to grow larger.
"For taking so long. For missing out."
She closed her eyes because his sadness quickly became overwhelming.
"I wanted to go slow," he chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I didn't want to scare you away; I wanted to ease back into things. I wanted us to get back together."
She opened her eyes, and her disembodied voice moaned in anguish.
"I wanted to be with you again. I messed up and I wanted to make up for it however you wanted. I thought we-I-had time. I was freaking wrong," he chuckled. "I love you, Bonnie."
She grabbed his neck and stood on her toes, and he bent his head so that their foreheads touched.
"I love you so much," he confessed at last.
"Then come back," she cried.
"I can't-"
"Please stop thinking about how hard it'll be for me." She looked up at him, and her pain shone through. "Stop trying to be selfless," she chuckled and remembered sitting in her room and staring at a cell phone the night of the sixties dance. "Tell me what you want. Don't think about what killing will do to me or how I can't handle it, because I can, Jeremy. Because you're worth it. I can kill someone to bring you back. You're worth it."
"I killed Shane," she said quickly when he started to shake his head.
"What?"
"And Vaughn and Katherine. They're all dead. I squeezed Shane's heart in his chest; I gave Vaughn an aneurysm. It was a spell, and I made him stand there, locked his feet to the ground while I came up with it. And I burned Katherine to a pile of ash on that damn beach while she was trying to escape. They're all back there on the island: dead."
"I told you I'd kill Shane if he laid a finger on either one of us," she said softly when he stared open-mouthed at her.
"How did you make it out?" he wondered.
"Silas healed me. He healed me and left me in the cave, and I didn't see him again until after I'd killed Katherine."
She'd tried to go back to Jeremy's body, but she'd run into Shane. She'd panicked, but he'd told her who he really was: Silas. He'd told her that Jeremy's body was gone, taken by a group of people that she knew included Elena.
"So tell me what you want, Jeremy. Because that random person getting to live isn't what's going to make me feel better. I want you back. I...I love you, too," she said softly.
Jeremy tilted his head toward her to make sure he'd heard her right.
A smile tugged at her lips. "I love you, too," she repeated. "And I want you back."
"I do want to come back. I'm not at peace here. I hear Kol's looking for me; his entire line is here, and most of them are looking for me. I wanna be alive again. I can stay dead," he reiterated. "But I'd rather be alive. I wanna live; there are things I want to do; there are things I want to see. I want to live to see the after: after the bullcrap, after Klaus is dead and all of this is over. Because there has to be a life after Klaus, right? But,"
Bonnie tightened her lips.
"I'm not willing to do that at any cost, especially not at the cost of you killing someone."
"You seem to be more worried about me killing than someone dying," she mused in amusement.
His mouth twitched with a contained smile, and then he got serious. He stroke her cheek with his knuckles and said, "Your heart hurts. I'd do anything to fix that. I want you to be happy, Bonnie."
"Anything?" She kissed him softly on the lips when he avoided her eyes. "You deserve to be just as alive as I am. What happened to you wasn't fair. You don't deserve it. And whoever it is that I choose to kill won't deserve it either, but I'm okay with that. I'm not okay with you being dead. I'll deal with killing someone. It won't break me, I promise. Just...this is the life we're living; these are the cards we're dealt. I hate it; I wish it wasn't happening, but I'm just...trying to shuffle the cards and deal them back out." She chuckled.
Jeremy gave her an eskimo kiss, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. "Do it."
He was prepared to help her deal with the fallout.
"Bring me back."
