fast update because I wanted to get Memorial done before the new episode.

am so overwhelmed by all the love and encouragements! you guys are so terrific, I have no words to describe how lovely you are: mehr03, justareader13, Guest(1), Trulzxoxo, jasmyn4057, Hellzz-on-Earth, Thingsnstuff, Alexis, Kaykay, guest, Guest(2), jenkins ALOHA, Vie.

I hope you enjoy this chapter as well, I like it a bit more than the previous one, but you'll be the judges of that.

thanks so much for all your support :)


The light was pouring in through every orifice. It didn't matter that she had pulled the curtains. Morning had a very persistent way of entering her room. She pushed back the blanket and stumbled towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

Maybe I'll try a simple nature spell, she thought, wincing at the sudden contact with the cold tiles.

Surely, her magic couldn't be gone. It couldn't have been drained. Not all of it.

The least stable force in the world she'd called it. It had gone through her, in and out, and now she was on the other side.

She was normal, more normal than usual.

Maybe not entirely normal. Maybe it wasn't the time to think of tragedies.

She walked towards the potted cactus on the window sill and held her fingers above the thorns. It was cool and pleasant, the feeling.

That's it, hang on to that. Don't let go.

The exhaustion was there, but if she wished hard enough, if she pulled every nerve until it was completely taut, if she let every other thought go, if she immersed herself completely in every one of these thorns -

Grams was sitting by the stove and she was holding a lit match between her fingers. It burnt in front of her eyes with the strength of a thousand fires.

Bit by bit, her grandmother was swallowed by that yellow brilliance. Slowly, but surely, the fire engulfed her.

And instead of grief and pain she only felt anger.

Angry that she couldn't move, couldn't extend her hand to put the fire out, angry because she had to stay still to keep the spell alive - her fingers above the thorns - angry because any moment now she would fail and then it would really not matter what happened to her magic, because Grams would be engulfed, forever.

Soon she would disappear. There would only be ash.

Bonnie shut her eyes, unshed tears stinging her eyelids as she sunk her fingers into the earth inside the pot.

A mushy, soft feeling and then lips on her lips, the same lips that could grin and kiss at the same time and she lifted her chin so he could grab it playfully and deepen the kiss and her tongue swept past his like a wave reaching for the shore and oh, how lovely and terrifying to be kissed by a stranger -

Damon brushed the strands of hair out of her face with an almost torturous slowness, making sure that every inch of her face felt warm and ticklish.

He leant his face into her neck as if to whisper something she would laugh at, his fingers tracing the blouse down her shoulders.

Alaric wouldn't interrupt them this time around.

It fell to the floor with a soft pulse, just like last time.

The next minute she had dropped the cactus on the floor and the pot smashed into smithereens.

So much for a simple nature spell.


Elena wanted to celebrate, wanted to tell him her secrets, wanted to be loved intensely, recklessly now that she was not alive anymore. But Stefan placed the cold champagne bottle in her hand and her head swam with words and memories. And all she could think of was the blood she had thrown up that morning and Bonnie kissing Damon in a warehouse, miles away. Both things turned her stomach upside down for unknown reasons.

No, maybe not unknown. She knew very well what was wrong.

She didn't believe for one minute that the kiss had been mutual. Damon must have compelled her. It had to be.

But why had he done it? Had he just wanted a quick fix? Was it because Bonnie had been the only one around? That wasn't fair to her friend.

Damon must have turned to her when she'd rejected him.

And what if he does it again?


"Am I wearing my "I killed the Council Members" T-Shirt? Why does everyone keep asking me this?"

Elena narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, did you?"

"No. Is that what you came here for?"

Elena argued with herself. Should she tell him or not? What was she trying to find in him that Stefan couldn't give her?

Understanding.


Damon was shoved into the bathroom wall unceremoniously as Elena drank from his hand without any restraint. He shut his eyes in pleasure, one hand caressing her hair gently, the other, mercilessly punctured and drained by her sharp teeth.

For a few moments there was nothing else and he felt close to ecstasy.

And then he saw clearly a dark figure coming towards him, hair pulled in a tight bun, necklace swinging back and forth, long legs glistening in the moonlight. She walked past him towards an entrance and even though he was barely standing, he followed her in.

He saw her kneel next to a dying man.

She extended her hand to his lips and Alaric - because it was Alaric, after all - first moved his mouth shyly over her palm, then sank his teeth in with a pop and started drinking greedily, happily. Bonnie was in ecstasy herself. She lowered herself even further and allowed him access to her throat as well.

Alaric pulled her towards him until she was straddling him and she hung her head back and sighed in pleasure.

And Damon realized with a sickening pang that this wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him.

This was a memory.

He thought he had been unconscious after Bonnie had shut his mind off. He thought he had lain there in the grass for hours, but in fact, he had crawled after her desperately, he had wanted to stop her, and he had seen her treachery, had witnessed her giving Alaric blood, offering herself like an exquisite dish to be enjoyed by him and him only.

He had seen that same ecstasy on her face. The necklace swinging back and forth.

"Okay, that's enough, Elena. I said that's enough."

He shoved her gently away from him. The pleasure had vanished. It's always short-lived.

"I'm - I'm sorry, I went overboard."

"It's fine."

She cleaned up the blood on her chin and licked her fingers.

"Damon, did you compel Bonnie? Did you - did you make her forget that kiss? Like you did with me?"

His expression instantly hardened.

"So, this is what it's all been about. It's not the blood, you just can't live with this."

Elena looked down, feeling just as famished as before, if not more.

"No, Damon. I really do need your help. But I need you to be honest with me. Did you -"

"No. I couldn't compel her even if I tried."


Stefan called him as he walked out of the bar and let him know that Tyler had been shot and that the bullets were specially crafted to kill a vampire instantly.

"It might be magic, Damon. We have to get Bonnie."

"I'm on my way," he muttered, a grim smirk on his face. She hadn't answered any of his calls, either way.

It was time for a visit.


The knocking was infernal. It just wouldn't stop. Like a woodpecker driving her insane. She screwed her eyes shut and tried thinking of a happy place.

She felt warm and aloof, ready to sleep. Now if only that knocking stopped -

"Bonnie! I know you're in there, I can hear you breathing!"

Oh God, Damon. Damon and his leather jacket and that smirk and that hateful nonchalance.

Was it another fever dream?

No, she had stored too much self-loathing to let that happen.

"I can stand here all day you know, shouting and knocking. I know you'd looove that."

She rolled her eyes and slowly raised herself, head dizzy from the sudden shift in balance.

Finding her way to the door was difficult and she could already see Damon's impatient expression on the other side of the window, waiting for her to open up.

"What do you want, Damon?"

"Just some friendly chitchat. You haven't been answering my calls," he replied, holding his phone up. "So I thought I should come over."

She unlocked the door and peered from behind it unsure. The glare of the light almost blinded her.

"Jesus, you look ready to die. Been cooked up in there since yesterday?"

She parted the door, because she realized he wasn't allowed in.

Damon didn't. He put his foot forward but was suddenly met with an invisible wall. Impenetrable. She was a fortress.

"Oh," he remarked annoyed. "Forgot about that little inconvenience. Invite me in, Bonnie."

She frowned and straightened her back. "Why would I do that?"

Damon was not amused.

"So I don't look like a complete moron, talking to you on your porch."

Bonnie shook her head. "I think you can handle that. I'm not letting you in."

Damon sighed, looking away frustrated. "Look, I know you're probably upset about last night, but trust me, I didn't intend to let Elena know. It just slipped out, okay? I was pissed off and she just pushed the wrong buttons. If she gives you a hard time, I'll tell her anything she needs to hear. I don't want her on your back. I've already got her on mine."

Bonnie's eyes widened considerably.

"Wait. What? You told Elena? About...us?"

Damon seemed confused. "Didn't you get my message?"

She shook her head. "I shut off my phone."

But everything else she might've said trailed off her lips into nothingness, because the previous morning's failed effort and this new unpleasant reminder of the kiss put a fresh strain on her already frail physical and emotional state and she started to rock back and forth, her body stumbling into his almost without her realizing it.

He was lucky enough to catch her from falling right across the doorway into his chest, but he was momentarily immobilized by her weight and the awkward position of her body. He tried to shift the angle and pull her into his arms, but he realized with a groan that he wasn't allowed in.

He couldn't drag her out, he couldn't come in.

He grabbed her chin and slapped her cheeks softly.

"Bonnie. Bonnie, please invite me in. Bonnie, you gotta invite me in."

She saw black lights and white flashes.

"Goddammit, Bonnie, let me in!"

She managed to nod her head weakly and the next moment he was carrying her across the threshold into her living room.


When her eyelids flickered open, she was met with his steel blue gaze.

He was holding a steaming cup in front of her nose. It smelt of mint and honey.

She smiled goofily, touching the hot surface, enjoying the warmth.

"No, little witch, you're not in heaven yet. But I might put you there if you pull another stunt like that."

She tried to get up fully, but he pressed a hand on her shoulder and she glided back, head on the pillow.

"Easy. You don't want a repeat, do you?"

The weight shifted on the sofa as he leant forward, grabbed her waist, elbow digging into her spine, hand at the base of her nape and pressed the mug to her lips.

"Drink up."

She gave him a searching look and eyed the mug suspiciously.

"You seriously think I put something in your tea."

"You never know," she muttered hoarsely.

"What could I possibly give you that would put you in a worse state?"

She seemed to be thinking about the possibilities.

"A ruffie."

Damon chuckled amused. "I swear on my Girl Scout honor it's not a ruffie."

"Well, if it's your Girl Scout honor..." she trailed off, tilting her head so she could sip.


"What happened?"

"Grams."

"Your grandmother?"

"Yeah. She - I saw her in front of my eyes. It was horrible."

"When did you see her?"

"Last night. She was being punished. For my sake. Because I hadn't listened to her. She'd told me to stay away from dark magic."

"But you didn't."

"No."

"Elena...?"

"No. Wasn't her fault."

"Then...?"

"Tyler. I mean Klaus. He forced my hand."

"I see."

"Damon?"

"Hm?"

"Tell Stefan I'll come look at those bullets. And thanks for the tea."

"Wasn't that big of a deal. Listen, I'll take care of Elena for you. She won't bother you."

"I - please don't. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Why not? It's not like we meant for it to happen."

"..."

"No one else will find out, all right? It was a mistake. A very stupid and circumstantial mistake. So stop feeling bad about it."

I don't feel bad about it.

"It literally meant nothing. Less than nothing since we both thought I was a goner."

But I was almost sure you weren't.

"I guess you're right. I just wish you hadn't told Elena. You can be so reckless sometimes."

"..."

"Is she - does she feel bad about it?"

"I don't know. She's acting out, but she doesn't even know what she wants."

"Do you want her to feel bad?"


The lanterns floated up into the air and she didn't feel bad anymore. Not as bad as she had a previous moments ago, when the weight was still pulling her down.

Now everyone's faces were lit up and there was a smile hidden somewhere in between, she could feel it growing, a glimmer of hope.

Stefan held her in his arms and she realized she'd been a hypocrite.

Her eyes finally rested on Bonnie. She was standing on the bench, hair falling into her eyes, expression unreadable.

Bonnie smiled weakly, trying to reach out to her. Elena tried and failed to smile back, but she nodded her head encouragingly.

It would take some time for the Petrova doppelgänger to understand that one of her loves had strayed.


Standing in front of Alaric's grave felt like a travesty. Especially with the current thoughts running through his head. The vulnerability was there, but he couldn't talk to him yet. Couldn't pour his heart out. The scenes played over and over again, different lighting, same direction.

Alaric had enjoyed Bonnie Bennett and that somehow made the gap grow a little bit wider, even beyond death.

"Didn't get the girl, remember? I'm just stuck here, fighting with my brother, taking care of the kids. You owe me big," he murmured sadly, thinking of how Alaric should have kept him from Elena and then kept himself from Bonnie. How twisted, how unlikely.

"I miss you too, buddy," Alaric's ghost whispered in his ear and Damon felt the memory lose its hold on him, even though it was still there.


"Ah, Damon Salvatore. Whatever brings you to my humble abode? I don't suppose you are here to congratulate me -"

Klaus did not see it coming because he did not expect it to come quite so fast. Damon was usually angry about something, but he always liked a bit of banter first.

Now, all decorum had been thrown out the window.

Well, he was almost literally thrown out the window.

"Next time, find your own witch to do your bidding."

Klaus grinned madly.

"Why, I thought she was my witch."

Damon's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Is she suffering on my account?" Klaus asked, feigning distress. "Poor child. I forgot to thank her properly. Maybe I should do it in person."

Damon clenched his fists.

"You do that and I finish what Alaric started."

"Is that a promise?"

"More like a certainty."