I am floored by the amount of positive attention this story has received. Thank you for waiting. Here's the next chapter in Damon's point of view, as many people have requested.
Damon's POV:
Twelve hours and counting until operation Get The Fuck Outta Mystic Falls with Bonnie and I can't sit still.
With a half-empty suitcase and all of my unpacked boxes I'd brought home from college, my bedroom looks like a tsunami hit and then doubled back for round two. For the next month it's probably going to stay that way. I'm way too amped up to focus on just one thing. Music pumps from my bluetooth speaker tower as I dig through boxes for toiletries, tossing things haphazardly into the suitcase and a smaller Nike duffle.
Shirts, check. Socks, check. Boxers, check. Mentally I'm ticking items off as I go. Despite the current disarray, there's still a slight method to my madness, closeted neat freak that I am. Usually I'd have my room sorted out by now but current events have kept me otherwise occupied and out of the house. I whistle along to the current song, my mind somewhere else entirely.
I'm excited for this trip, and if I'm being honest with myself, it's not just because I'll be getting out of Mystic Falls. Sure, my hometown can get a little boring. You've gotta make your own fun around here, but that's something I'm used to.
Nah, it's more about who I'm getting out with.
I like Bonnie. I've always liked Bonnie. But it's not until a few years back - the summer of her sixteenth birthday - that I started to like-like Bonnie. It's complicated and hopeless - given our history, there's a fat chance the feelings will ever be reciprocated - but I can't seem to stop, no matter how many semesters I spend away, or how many pairs of legs I find myself between.
Of course, I'm ninety-eight percent sure she can't stand me - at least the majority of the time - though it's not entirely my fault. The reason we bump heads stems partially from our personalities, which happen to be polar opposites and partially because I make a serious effort to piss her off. Sure, lighting a fire under my own ass might seem a little counterproductive, but that crazy gleam in her eyes right before she's about to tell me about myself? Priceless. It nearly tops my list of favorite things, second only to the begrudging smile she gives me when I've actually managed to make her laugh.
Needless to say, even though I'm looking forward to being stuck together for awhile, the reason for it sucks and sucks hard. I know that she's hurting. Finding out about what happened to her mother, on top of the grief of Gram's passing, is another horrible piece of information Bonnie doesn't need to deal with right now. The stress is wearing on her, physically and emotionally. I can see it in her eyes.
Usually, I look at Bonnie and I see fire. She's never lacking in attitude, ferocity, or brilliance. I think of her and see the bright-eyed, curly-haired girl in a yellow bikini, about to tackle me into the Lockwood's in-ground pool just to prove some measly little point. That's who she is. Not this mournful, exhausted ghost of a girl existing in her place. It's probably all kinds of selfish, but when I'd heard Gram's had died, I'd been sort of relieved. Even miles away, I could see Bonnie sitting beside the hospice bed, punishing herself for something she couldn't control.
Somehow, even though none of this is her fault, she finds a way to carry the burden anyways. She always has, in everything. I know it's killing her to even admit to needing an out from it for awhile.
Not even Bonnie Bennett can dodge reality for very long. Maybe in a different town or a big city, but not here, not in Mystic Falls. She'd made an extremely valid point about her father. Her mother's rapist could be anybody, and given the small population of our town, it's likely they've already interacted in some way. Though Bonnie has only ever been the type to face her problems head on - no bullshit, whatsoever - I don't blame her for wanting to skip town like her mother did all those years ago.
Mystic Falls can suffocate you with the right demons hovering over your head. It's for that reason alone that I'd gone to college in a completely different state, not Whitmore, like all the other MFHS grads.
My iPhone buzzes twice in my back pocket, the notification that I've received a text message and as I slip it out, Bonnie's ID lights up the screen. Her contact name in my phone is simple: two capital B's and a bumblebee emoji.
Packed and ready, it reads. Be here by 8 am, before the cavalry arrives to shut us down.
I smirk at her reference to Caroline and Elena. I'm sure she's continued to avoid any contact with either of the two, considering her reluctance to answer Elena's phone calls the other night.
Yeah, I'd picked up on it. She'd tried to play it off, and in the moment I knew better than to press her. Still, the sliver of panic that had crossed her face when she'd read the caller ID had been fleeting - but not fast enough. I've grown pretty good at interpreting her facial expressions, whether she's aware of it or not.
Bonnie's tough and smart, but she's also just the tiniest bit guarded, especially when it comes to her pride. She needs her friends to lean on, even I can be sure of that. But I don't think she's ready to explain something to them that she hasn't even come to terms with herself. I can't fault her for it. I know what it's like to run hard and fast away from the truth. I know how lonely it can be, how isolating. Which is exactly why I'm glad Bonnie's gonna have me while she takes her turn.
I type out a reply, offering to pick up some coffee before we head out on the road. Just thinking about it already has me envisioning her well-toned cheerleader legs stretched out on my dashboard, the wind whipping through her hair as we tear down the highway. Those perfect fucking legs.
Ugh.
Once again, I think it's a huge miracle or some kind of blessing from God that I'd been the one on the phone last week. Her bloodcurdling scream might've stopped my heart for a few seconds, but if there's anyone who's gonna look out for her on a cathartic roadtrip to Vegas, it's me. Had it been any other way, I'd probably be the last person she'd ever open up to about something so personal. I guess things just have a way of working out.
This trip is one hundred percent for her, and I'm determined to not let it become about the feelings I've successfully squashed for awhile now. Still… it would be a lie if I said I wasn't looking forward to this opportunity to hopefully expand our friendship beyond the bounds of routine bickering.
"Texting Katherine?"
My head snaps up at the sound of my baby brother's voice. He's leaning against the doorframe, a know-it-all grin plastered across his tan face, and instantly the smile drops from mine. I realize I've just been standing there, smiling idiotically at a stupid text message for a good portion of a minute. Just hearing my psychotic ex-girlfriend's name makes my stomach roll in disgust and I flip him the bird.
"Ha-ha. I'd rather saw off my left arm and eat it for breakfast."
"So you're texting Bonnie then," he says casually and this time the glare I send his way is murderous.
The only reason Stefan knows that I've got the hots for Bonnie is because two summers ago, when my feelings had first surfaced, we'd gotten incredibly drunk and high together. Over three large pizzas and endless rounds of 2k14, we'd been more emotionally vulnerable with each other then ever before. We'd talked about a lot of things that night - a shit ton of craziness had just gone down in our family and we'd only had each other - but the only time he'll ever reference those hours of "brotherly bonding" is to bring up Bonnie.
"Screw you, dick." I reply and roll my eyes. He saunters the rest of the way into my room with a satisfied expression, throwing his body across my shittily made bed. I've probably slept in it once the past week. Turning back to the task at hand, I start searching for another clean pair of jeans while he takes out his own phone.
"Leaving so soon?" He asks, but his forest green eyes never leave the brightly glowing screen and his fingers fly across the touch keyboard with ease. Though I haven't been home very much since I got back, the few times I've seen Stef have been with that phone in his hand. I've got two guesses as to who could be on the receiving end of his messages.
Caroline or Elena. Maybe even both. And that's some drama I ain't touching with a ten foot pole.
"Gotta go help out a friend. I'll be back soon." I respond easily, sparing him details he doesn't need to be sharing with either of the two females filling up his inbox.
"Dad know?"
"Dad's probably going to be gone half the time I'm away," I snort derisively, bitterly. "So nope. He wouldn't care anyways."
"He might. He wants to take us to the Hamptons. Told me last night when he called." This is new information our father has yet to share with me. Then again, we've talked maybe twice by phone since I got home. Stefan shudders outwardly and scrolls down with a fingertip. "Probably to meet her. If you're not back by then I swear to god I'm gonna fucking kill you. I'm not doing that shit alone."
A part of me wants to hit something. Instead I settle for aggressively kicking through all of my shit to find my favorite belt. I don't want to meet her. I'd rather break both of my legs twice than meet her. But I've known this time would come and I hate that it's here. Meeting my Dad's girlfriend is the fucking cherry on top of all the unresolved tension between us. To think that it's been two years and our relationship remains in a shambles… it makes my throat ache.
"You won't be alone," I tell him seriously, but it's more of a promise. Stefan and I watch out for each other. We've always been close and even though he won't admit it out loud, I know he'll need to lean on me for the emotional support. He'd taken our mother's death the hardest - we'd spiralled into a massive black-hole of depression together, but I was the one to resurface first.
He looks up from his phone to offer me a nod, as close to a grateful "thank you" that I'm gonna get, before his face lights up. "Oh, by the way. When were you planning on telling Dad you're switching into a journalism major?"
Shit.
I swallow hard, the blood in my veins running cold. Stefan won't rat me out about this, no way. But I have no idea how he found out, and I'm still battling with the decision to even tell my dad the truth or let him find out when I graduate and the diploma says "Journalism" instead of "Pre-Law."
"How the hell do you know that?"
He reaches into his back pocket, retrieving a cream-colored envelope folded into thirds. He unfolds it before holding it out for me to grab. "This came today from the Head of the Journalism Department - it wasn't hard to figure out. I snagged it from the mail pile before it got dumped in Dad's office."
I snatch the envelope out of his hand quickly, stuffing it into the bottom of my Nike duffle where no one will ever find it. No need to read it now - I already know what is says. I'd known I was accepted into the department before I'd even packed my stuff to come home for summer break.
"Dad's gonna kick my ass," I sigh, zipping up the bag. "He's gonna kick my ass and then reassemble the pieces so he can kick it again."
"Yeah, you're pretty much fucked." Stefan agrees lightly, running a hand through his unusually disheveled hair. I can tell he genuinely feels bad for me though; he's always been terrible at disguising his emotions with humor. Plus I'm way better at reading him then everyone else.
I also know that more than anything else, he feels guilty. I'd chosen pre-law as my major under pressure - not because it was something that I wanted to do. That one awful year of hell had thrown a lot our way. To keep the burden of attention off of Stefan's shoulders I hadn't put up a fight when Dad had pushed me to go pre-law. In reality, the idea of being a big name lawyer like my father actually kind of makes me sick to my stomach. There's no way I could ever take up the mantle of running his firm. Stefan isn't cut out for the job either if we're being honest, but since I'm the first born… well it's obvious how that goes.
"I just can't do it." I admit. "I gave it a try, but it just - god, it fucking sucks. And then I see myself sitting at a huge desk in twenty years going grey, looking positively miserable and now I get why Dad's so protective of the alcohol in his office."
Stefan snorts. His phone pings and I watch the look spread across his face as he reads the message. The look is reserved for whichever girl it is that he actually likes, which I'm still trying to figure out. I haven't been home long enough to observe, but my bet's on Caroline - Stef and I are opposites when it comes to women. I love brunettes and he's always had a special place in his heart for hot blondes. Growing up he and Care had always been close, but then puberty had hit and done her all sorts of good.
Stefan taps out a response to his text, a mischievous glint in his eye, and I'm ninety eight percent sure he's about to go get laid.
"Listen, dude. You and I both know law was never what you wanted. It's your life. You made a decision to make things easier on everyone but the time for that is long gone. I'm going to school for what I want. So what you popped out of the womb first? It's not your responsibility to carry on the firm."
I weigh his words and the truth in them, knowing that he's right. It isn't my responsibility and yet… I know it'll disappoint our father. With the shattered state of our relationship, I hate to destroy it any further.
"Besides," Stefan continues with a grimace, his typically broody eyebrows coming together in the middle. "I don't think Bonnie would appreciate raising the kids while you work eighty hour weeks."
I'm halfway to a reply before my brain fully grasps what he has just left his mouth. By that time my brother has rolled off the bed to his feet, a wicked smirk on his face. He darts out of the room just as a pillow smashes into the wall where his head used to be.
"Fuck you!"
"You too, brother!" He yells back, laughter echoing down the hallway.
In the distance the front door slams, and I hear his god-awful attempt at whistling float through an open window as he slips into his own cherry red Porsche. I press the heels of my palms into my eyeballs, but a stubborn grin fights it's way to my mouth as the scenario he'd suggested plays out in my mind like a movie.
Bonnie. Bonnie raising our kids. Bonnie getting extremely pissed off at me while raising our kids. Me coming home and making her forget why she's pissed off.
Okay, so maybe the last part is of my own creation, but he's still fucking funny, the little shit. God, I hate him.
My phone buzzes again and I shake away the vision, opening Bonnie's message.
Actually, an iced coffee would be a great. Thanks for offering. I'm gonna hit the hay early. I'll see you in the morning!
Leave it to Bonnie to be punctual about bedtime.
Instead of replying to her, lest I fall prey to temptation and include an emoji I can't take back, I pocket my phone and turn to finish packing. Maybe Bonnie's not the only one eager to get away for awhile. My father's business trip is bound to end sooner or later. He'll return to Mystic Falls and I'm nowhere near ready to start the conversation we so badly need to have. I've spent my fair share of time running... I ran when I couldn't deal with the loss of my mother, ran when I chose a college out of state... another month can't hurt me now.
I'm not like Bonnie. I don't have a history of facing my problems head on, so I don't feel so bad about skipping town with her. This is what I'm good at - putting my problems on a shelf to be dealt with later, just to soak up any and every adrenaline rush so I can forget they exist altogether. Bonnie might need this, but so do I. Helping her is the best distraction I can think of.
We both need to get the fuck out of Mystic Falls, I know that for certain.
The morning can't come soon enough.
It's eight o'three by the time I roll into Bonnie's driveway. I'm three minutes off schedule but it looks like the shit-storm we'd hoped to avoid has already begun to roll in.
Bonnie's standing on her front porch, white-knuckling the handle of a rolling suitcase with the smaller, matching companion at her feet. From the looks of it she seems to be engaged in a full-blown stare down with Elena, who I haven't seen since spring break. Elena's dressed in her work uniform, standing with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Just as Bonnie predicted, she must've gotten tired of being ignored. Judging on the time, she'd probably stopped by on the way to her morning shift at the local bakery.
Elena doesn't look happy. In fact, she looks downright livid. Her pin-straight brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and I can only imagine the suspicious glint in her almond-shaped eyes as she glares down Bonnie and her suitcases.
My stomach drops straight into my ass as I shift into park and Elena slowly spins on her heel. She's completely bewildered by my sudden appearance, nailing me with an equally venomous stare.
Fuck.
Should I even get out of the car? I have half a mind to chicken out and sit here while the two girls duke it out. I'm not made for this girly drama bullshit. Stefan and I usually beat the crap out of each other until we run out of steam, and then work it out over glasses of Dad's favorite bourbon and some ice packs. This? This is way too intense for me.
One quick glance out the window though, and I find myself unbuckling my seatbelt. The two girls have already exchanged words - or at least some yelling. I can tell by the look on Bonnie's face, the rapid rise-and-fall of her chest - if I don't step in and hustle her into the car, she's gonna lose it.
"Damon?" Elena exclaims disbelievingly, as I step around my side of the car. I choose to avoid eye contact, and keep my focus on Bonnie, who's pressed her lips so tightly together it's like they don't exist. She glances at me briefly, the panic hidden in her green eyes transforming into silent relief.
"Thank you," she mouths when I take the handle from her hand, and I give her a wordless nod of encouragement. In fact, it's the nod. The "You can do this, so get your ass in gear. I believe in you," one that a coach gives a struggling athlete in every single sports movie ever made. Sure enough, her expression hardens and that's all it takes for her to grow a backbone again.
Elena gestures wildly at me as I breeze by her once more, headed for the trunk of the Camaro. "What the hell, Bonnie! What's going on?! Why is Damon taking your things? Where are you going?!"
"I'm sorry I've been ignoring you lately, Elena," she responds, and with each word her voice strengthens. "I told I've just been dealing with a lot of things, and I don't really know how to open up to you about them, yet."
"But you can open up to Damon?! You hate him." Ouch. I stiffen a little at the disgust in Elena's voice. I know she's worked up, but it still stings knowing they've probably discussed me in private and Bonnie's likely been less than nice. The girl really has no idea, so I'll give her a pass.
"I'm going to visit some family and Damon's coming with me." she says steadily. "And I never said that. We may have our differences but I asked him to come and he said yes."
"I just don't understand," she sputters, "You know that I love you and you can tell me anything, Bonnie. Why not ask me to be there for you? Have I done something wrong?"
"No I just-" Bonnie's voice wavers, threatening to break and she looks away. From the bobbing of her throat, it's obvious that she's fighting back tears again. Elena takes a step back as the realization that she's being rejected once more hits home. "I'm sorry Elena, but I'll explain everything when I get back okay? I just need to leave right now. I need you to understand."
"Well I don't," the other girl bites back. Her cheeks are flushed a dangerous red - for a moment I see my ex-girlfriend standing in her place, all fierce, fury and long dark hair. Their physical similarities are almost uncanny; I don't know how I never picked up on it before, "I don't get it, Bonnie. But do whatever the hell you have to do, I don't care anymore!"
The entire frame of the car shakes as Elena climbs in and slams the door. The smell of burnt rubber accompanied by the harsh squeal of spinning tires fills the air as she peels out of the driveway and down the street. Ugh. All the years I've known her and it still baffles me. The girl really knows how to make an exit.
When she is gone the silence that fills the yard is deafening. I look to the devastated young woman wringing her hands on the porch.
I definitely should've gotten here earlier. Fuck the iced coffee melting in the front seat.
"Bonnie?" Her watery gaze meets mine and suddenly she's the little girl I grew up with, minus the pigtails and sparkly pink jelly sandals. Her eyes close for a moment as she fights to regulate her breathing, smearing away tears on the underside of her thin wrist.
I face a struggle of a different kind. It takes every ounce of self-control to keep me rooted to the spot where I'm standing - too far away to touch her, to comfort her, like I really want to. I know we're not there yet. We may be in this together but Bonnie doesn't trust me completely and I'm not stupid enough to expect that out of her right now. So instead I look away, slipping back into the driver's seat to let her take a beat until she's ready to be strong again.
A few minutes later I look up from Candy Crush to the sound of the passenger door opening. Bonnie plops down next to me, slamming the door behind her. My poor baby - the Camaro of course - rattles with the force of it. At first I think she's going to burst into another round of tears when she notices the iced coffee with her name on it in the cupholder. Her forehead wrinkles and a breath whooshes out of her all at once. But when she looks over at me all traces of tears are gone, replaced by grim determination.
"Let's do this," she says, and I almost believe the forced grin that stretches across her pretty little face. "Let's get the hell out of here."
I give her my most confident smirk, revving the engine. "As the lady commands."
And then we go.
I'm not so sure how I feel about this chapter to be honest. I don't think it's my absolute best, but I really wanted to get it out there. I love writing Damon though. He's my favorite character after all, and I love the dynamic he shares with Stefan in this story. They're all teenagers/young adults, but since this is an AU, their personalities are bound to be a bit different. Less jaded than the characters on the show, but they've still experienced a lot that we haven't seen so far. Take that into consideration. Obviously there's a lot of backstory that's yet to be explored, so we'll see that unfold as the story continues. Next chapter is Bonnie's point of view.
Please leave a review and let me know any of your thoughts! Also, I'm never betaed. I reread until it feels like my eyeballs are gonna fall out and then screw it. So if you found any errors in grammar or whatever, please let me know. Thanks for reading!
-M