I don't own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. They belong to their respectful owners!
Bonnie woke up in the yard alone, she stretched then pushed the last of the blanket off her body as she sat up. Bonnie looked around for Damon but found nothing. Sadness immediately arose in her and she swallowed it back the best she could. Maybe he went to use the restroom, or made something to eat. Taking in the plausible solutions, Bonnie chastised herself for jumping to conclusions. Just last night he had said he was going to stick around for a little while longer, and she believed him. Bonnie still felt uneasy as she sat up to pull the blanket around her. Dragging it along the grass to ward off the offending morning breeze she decided to check the house. The sun wasn't far above the horizon, further proving that it was still pretty early. Trudging to the big house, she made it up the porch in pursuit of finding Damon, he couldn't have left her. They bonded so much yesterday, and telling him all the things she did, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Bonnie smiled at the memory as she rounded the house, her expression turning into a frown when room after room it turned up empty. Ignoring the crestfallen feeling in her chest, she went to her bathroom to freshen up for the day, Bonnie had so much to do before her grams came back. She needed to muck out the horse stables, clean the house, rake the yard, the list of chores went on. Maybe it was a good thing he left, no distractions. Once she was ready and dressed in a regular v-neck shirt and cut off denim jeans, Bonnie bounded down the stairs for some coffee.
She loved the smell of coffee, the fresh aroma of it whenever she grounded a new batch brought her a sense of comfort to her. She readied herself breakfast while the coffee brewed, it wasn't long until Bonnie was sitting on the dining table, nursing her coffee while scooping food in her fork with her free hand. This was ridiculous, not even this morning did she find coffee comforting enough to take away the disappointment. Pushing her plate away, followed by her coffee, she bowed her head. She supposed she should be used to people walking out of her life. Used to people not caring enough about her so they'd run away… or die. She heavily sighed at the death bit. Bonnie knew if her father could defeat death, that he'd still be here.
"Why the long face?" Bonnie jumped out of her seat in bewilderment. After finally finding which way was up, she looked to see Damon standing in her doorway. Her shock wore off as relief washed over her body.
"I-I was lost in my thoughts, I guess…" She answered as she pulled her eyebrows together. The kitchen had a screen door that separated inside from out, that's where he was currently leaning.
"Right. I thought it would do with the fact that I wasn't here." He offered a smug look and she scoffed.
"Wow, its like you know everything." She said sarcastically. Grabbing her plate full of food, she debated on inviting him in. She was going to last night, but he stayed away from her house while she cooked.
"You know, you can come in." Bonnie called over her shoulder as she wrapped her food for later. An agonizingly long minute passed before the creak of the screen door signaled its opening.
"Thanks." His voice was soft.
"Where'd you go?" She turned around to find him leaning over the kitchen counter.
"Exploring." He smiled and she narrowed her eyes.
"…At… 6 in the morning?" Her voice was skeptical, he seemed unfazed.
"Yep."
"Are you hungry?" She could've sworn that she saw a flash of disgust hit his face, but she could've been mistaken.
"Nope." Before Bonnie could protest, Damon took her hand and led them upstairs to her room. She was nervous, she didn't know why he was leading her up there, but she wasn't going to question it. She trusted him, while everything else screamed for her not to. It was like she was being pulled in two different directions. Her instincts told her to lock his ass back up, but her heart screamed for her not to, that it was okay. The vision of him broken and crying from yesterday freaked her out. She didn't like seeing him like that, and she knew he was lying about not losing anyone. Damon's eyes were so clear, she could read every emotion in them. Bonnie knew from when he was in the cell that he was good looking, but him out in the sun was a different story. The way the shadows of his arm muscles flexing as they splashed water on her, or how strong he looked while he was petted her horse often brought her in a trance. Damon Salvatore was a sight to be seen, even his name was handsome.
They had just discussed Bonnie's favorite books, and now he was reading her family's grimoires as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Are you a witch, too?" She asked suddenly, and he barked a laugh, his eyes never leaving the page.
"I wouldn't say that, no."
"Warlock?" He looked up at her this time to answer.
"I don't know any magic juju."
"So, how does your family know what we are?" Damon sighed dramatically and flipped the page. He was about to say answer her when something caught his eye. She watched as he did a double take and rose the book closer to his face.
"What? What is it?" She asked, sitting up herself.
"Nothing. Its just interesting things I don't know how to read." He offered a small smile, and his eyes gave away the fact that he was lying. He looked over at the clock on her dresser.
"Its getting late, you should probably lock me up before your beloved grandmother gets back." Damon noted.
Bonnie felt a rise of panic from remembering something, she shot up, and ran down the stairs.
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit." She murmured. "I forgot to muck out the horse stables. Its probably going to be hell." Damon was by her in a flash, and she looked at him.
"This is your fault, and now you're going to help me." Bonnie demanded.
Sheila pulled up to the island's pier and tied her boat down. She arrived home later than she thought and by the lack of light in the house, she knew Bonnie was already asleep. Checking on said granddaughter and finding that she was, in fact, sleeping, she grabbed the grimoires from her desk and went downstairs. Something in her clicked as Damon spoke the other day. He came here for a specific reason, and all she needed to do was find out what it was, because whatever it was most likely belonged to her. She remembered hearing about her great grandmother's vision of a vampire who was going to come here in pursuit of something precious, she searched the grimoire for the entry. Finally finding it, she pushed the old pages down and brought it closer to her face.
"I had a vision, that there was a being here to seek out something the Original Witch herself created and hid. Something to reverse the very being of who they were. A cure. If only it were possible to just let them take it, but like everything else that involves magic, there needed to be a balance; A price. The price would be the final end of the Bennett line. The only witch line-when that time comes-strong enough to channel such a power. She alone will hold the power of a hundred dead witches in her very palms. The only witch strong enough to complete the spell that comes with the cure."
Sheila lifted her head and took a deep breath. There was a cure for vampirism! She'd heard about it in passing conversations, but there was never any record of where this cure was, let alone a spell. Maybe she really had nothing to worry about. If there was no spell, there could be no threat to the Bennett line, of losing her Bonnie. The only other person she had. The only other person she loved. Sheila couldn't allow that to happen.
A cure. Cure. The last time she spoke anything about a cure was with one Stefan Salvatore. After Damon threatened Sheila's life, she's had many run-ins with the Salvatore brothers. Its been many years since she thought of Stefan and the friendship they shared.
Sheila's skin was still healing from the attack from the vampire. It was the first time she'd ever come across one, and she hated them already. Well, she hated Damon. His brother, on the other hand, was another matter altogether. Walking the familiar path to the local library, a mop of brown hair caught the corner of her eye. The hair she recognized on a certain vampire the week prior. She stopped when she saw him approaching, her heart caught in her throat and preparing to burst his blood vessels if the occasion called, but it didn't.
"Hello, Shelia." He greeted, and she took in a deep breath. "I assure you, I mean no harm."
"What's your name?"
"Stefan Salvatore." He bowed to exaggerate his friendliness.
"Its the sixties, no one does that anymore." Sheila countered and he laughed.
"I'm not from the sixties, nor the fifties. I come from a time much earlier." He looked around at the busy street and turned his attention back to the witch.
"Perhaps we can speak more privately."
Sheila nodded, though every fiber of her being was telling her not to trust him, she couldn't ignore the faintness in her heart that said trusting him was going to be okay. They rounded the corner that lead to the high school. The bleachers weren't far from where they stood and they made their way to the field.
"I heard of your kind, but I never came across vampires before last week." She said once they settled in the hard metal. Sheila took in Stefan's forlorn expression at her statement.
"Yeah, I'm truly sorry about that." He grimaced.
"You said you come from 'a time much earlier'" she paused "What did you mean by that?"
"I was born in 1847, here, in Mystic Falls." Stefan looked out to the field again. "My brother and I come back every now and then. He wanted to return, and as you can see, he could always use my help." Sheila thought she was going to keel over from the shock.
"Who-whoa. You were born in 1847? Immortal beings…" She observed and he nodded.
"How did you turn?" Again, a melancholy look crossed his features.
"There was a woman."
"You loved her." She stated, and Stefan nodded.
"Very much. Or, so I thought I did. It could've been a lie." In that moment, Sheila felt herself becoming vulnerable. Stefan seemed so… human, it was odd to her. The legends always said to stay away from their kind. They were animals of the evil kind, they were the predators seeking out their prey. Vampires had no preferences in who they killed, and they were uncontrollable. There were so many questions, so many things she wanted to talk to him about, like why he was different, and about this mystery woman he spoke of.
"It was a long time ago." He said, and it brought Sheila out of her thoughts.
"Stefan, I need to go." He nodded his head understandably, as he stood himself.
"Of course." Stefan grabbed her hand to help her stand then kissed it. "It was a pleasure meeting you." And with that he sauntered off in the opposite direction. It was another month till she spoke to him again. Every once in a while after their exchange, she'd think of him and about this woman he thought he loved, but she never let her curiosity take over. Fate, however, had a different turn for her. Somewhere along the line, they became not just acquaintances, but friends. He was the first true friend she had in this world where no one knew magic could exist. This wasn't the fairy books after all, but real life, the mere idea of it was absurd. No one believed in those sorts of things, never mind meeting someone else with supernatural tendencies.
"Wait, wait… so you mean to tell me that vervain would weaken you?" Sheila asked him. She and Stefan were sitting on a bench near the lake. She was wearing a sun dress with her feet tucked under her. Her wavy hair flowing freely. He was in khakis and a t-shirt.
"Yup. Doesn't mean you can go using it on me." Stefan joked and she threw her head back in laughter. Her laugh was abruptly cut off when she saw that Damon was now standing in front of her.
"Sheila." He greeted with his arms crossed. She liked seeing Stefan, it was his brother she didn't like, and of course, she couldn't avoid seeing Damon all the time.
"Damon."
"What are we talking about that's so amusing?" He asked nonchalantly, and she shrugged.
"Oh you know, he was just telling me of another way I could kill you." Sheila retorted in the same tone Damon used and he squinted his eyes. "You know, just in case for some reason plan A didn't work." She hated Damon, and being around him made her hairs stand on edge.
"You couldn't get rid of me, even if you tried." Sheila chuckled sarcastically then stood up to leave.
"Where are you going?" Stefan asked, but before she could answer, Damon did.
Probably gonna try to find a way to kill me." Sheila turned her attention toward the brunette.
"'Probably' and 'Try' wouldn't be the adjectives I'd use if I were you. Careful not to underestimate me." She gave a toss of her hair and walked away, but not before Damon retorted.
"And you, me." He called over her shoulder as she continued in her step.
Sighing, Sheila took herself out of her thoughts. Thinking of her old friend made her… sad. How he was doing? What he was doing? If he got what he was looking for often ran in her mind, but she never had the guts to find out for herself. What if his last memory of her left an even bitterer taste in his mouth than it did hers? She was too afraid to find out.
Closing the book and laying her head on it, she felt like a teenager again. All those months she spent learning about vampires from both Stefan and the grimoires (which weren't abundant in information) ended like this. With her being exhausted. She needed to find that spell for the cure before Damon did, or worse, Bonnie. Her granddaughter still didn't know about vampires, because, well, Sheila didn't think Bonnie would ever meet one. She should've known though, everything she expected would be the opposite of so.
Realizing she didn't check on Damon yet, she grabbed his cup and made it down to the shed. Pulling on the string to turn on the dinky light, Sheila found himself propped up against the wall. It was like he knew she was coming-and he probably did.
"Here to feed me?" Sheila nodded in response, not saying anything. "Quiet, aren't we?" Sheila shrugged as she poured the last of the blood into his cup and levitating it to him. He eagerly took a gulp, and she leaned against the wall to observe him.
"What?" He asked and she shifted her weight against the wall.
"I know why you're here, Damon and it can't be found." Sheila replied softly, and he froze, stopping the cup from being tilted as he swallowed what was already in his mouth.
"Why should I believe you? You wouldn't know what I was looking for, sweetheart, even if I drew it out for you. Only a select people know about what I'm looking for."
"And you think you're so special, Damon?" Sheila sneered. "I'm a part of the Bennett line, you forget." Damon stood up from where he was sitting and walked closer to her.
"Where is it, then? Whatever 'it' is." He defied.
"The cure is not here, and even if it were, you don't have the spell to make it work." Damon was at the cell door in a flash. He tightly gripped the iron bars that were laced with Vervain oil. She was surprised when he kept his now burning hands there, anger strong in his eyes.
"You're a part of the Bennett line, don't you forget." He sneered the quote back at her. "I can get the damn spell from you. Besides, I don't believe you for one second... I need that cure." Thinking of all that was in risk, Sheila shook her head.
"Not as much as I need you not to have it." The pain must've become unbearable, because he peeled his hands away from the bars. Sheila watched him rub the burns away, as it healed in record time.
"No, you don't understand." He enunciated.
"No, you don't understand! This isn't one of those things where you ask me to do something for you that is too dangerous for me, but I do it anyway. No, Damon! Not this time." She backed away in bewilderment as he threw himself against the bars again, this time reaching to grab her.
"I was so close, so close to getting it, and you throwing me in here is beginning to piss me the hell off. Just let me get the cure, and I'll be out of your hair. I don't need your juju to help us out, I'll find another witch." Damon almost pleaded.
"That witch won't survive. She'll die!" Sheila protested, and Damon shrugged.
"So?"
"She'll die and it'll be for nothing because whoever she is won't have the power strong enough to bond it." That caught Damon's interest. "Not even the one powerful enough could bond it would survive. Let alone an average witch."
"So you're saying you know who would be strong enough for such a spell? You don't even know who we're planning to ask." Something in Sheila's face gave her away and he gave her a knowing look. "No, but you know who we should ask. And I'm also betting-since you know the risks, you have the spell."
"N-no. Who's we-?"
"Answer the question, Witch." Damon was gripping the bars again, his hands burning and causing the air to stink for the both of them.
"No, I don't." She lied, and he let go of the bars.
"You're such a liar." Damon had so much anger in his eyes, and she'd be lying if she said it didn't scare her a little. "Who can bind it! Is it you?!"
"So much questions for a prisoner."
"No, I'm just trying to understand, why you, someone that hates me so incredibly much, would stop me from becoming human… unless it involved you. Something 'dangerous' like you said." He cocked a head to the side. "Right?"
"Or it could be because I know you're lying." Damon rolled his eyes and moved his head to the side before looking back at her. "We all know you love being a vampire. You wouldn't change that for anything."
"I'm getting sick of this." Damon said, walking back to the bed. "I'm going to be free of this bullshit cell, and you'll regret it. I can absolutely promise you that." He vowed as he turned to look at her again.
Sheila was glad to be out of the shed. For some reason she was afraid, and she definitely knew why. Her granddaughter. She had to be the one strong enough for the spell. Her powers grew everyday, and she channeled all the elements around her almost perfectly. Something Sheila couldn't do so early in the game. If Damon found out, he would stop at nothing to get Bonnie to do what he needed her to, and Sheila knew he'd torture Bonnie to get her to do whatever it was. He wouldn't care if it killed Bonnie, but Sheila would do anything to protect her at all costs.
Damon finding this out would be her worse nightmare.
Sheila awoke with a headache and a heavy heart. She should just kill him, but a small voice stopped her. Stefan's name rang in her heart, and she knew she couldn't do that to him. She couldn't kill the only family he had, because Sheila knew what it meant to lose all but one person. Her Bonnie. Why did Damon all of a sudden have a need to be human again? He was fine all these years, so why now? Sheila got out of bed and walked over to Bonnie's room to find her fast asleep. It was no surprise seeing as it was only 5 a.m. The older woman had a hard time sleeping, and decided to ditch it altogether to pick some herbs.
During her journey, she walked further than she knew she should've. The other side of the island was almost completely abandoned, and there were wild critters. Sheila shuttered at the thought, she hated them. The sun was beginning to rise, and she had to get back. Turning to head back home, a noise caught her attention. The noise stopped as she looked around, and after not seeing anything, she continued walking away. After a few seconds, she heard a twig snatch and she turned around again, her basket draping on her arms.
"Who's there?" Sheila called. The soft fabric of her cloak brushed against her face, making her jump a little. Moving only her eyes to scour the trees and not finding anything, she continued walking away. It wasn't until she was nearing the edge of the forest when something stopped her. A hand. Quickly turning, she uttered a spell to send the figure flying. From what she could see, he was male. Sheila stopped short when she saw the familiar mop of brown hair.
"Stefan?"
"Sheila!" He exclaimed, trying to catch his breath from the impact.
"Stefan?!" Sheila looked at him, he hadn't changed a bit. Well, of course his style did, but he didn't age the way he was supposed to. Of course he didn't, because he'd look worse than death if he did. Rushing to help him up, she offered a hand that he took. She pulled him up and he immediately hugged her.
"How are you? I missed you." Stefan said softly in her ear, and she closed her eyes. Hugging the same looking Stefan as 50 years ago, made her feel young again. The moment faded when he pulled away.
"I-I'm fine. How are you?"
"I'm great. I'm just looking from my brother. What are you doing here?" Stefan asked her and she lowered her head. He didn't know she lived here, further proving that Damon was here for the cure and not because Stefan knew where she was.
"This is where I live." Sheila motioned to the house. "That's my home." Stefan's eyes widened.
"Have you seen my brother?" Sheila nodded. "Where is he?"
"He's-"
"Stefan?" Sheila stopped speaking at the extra voice. It was soft and full of concern. Stefan turned around to face the girl.
"Elena, this is Sheila. Sheila, I'd like you to meet Elena, my girlfriend." The older woman rose her eyebrows. She looked just like Katherine.
"Hi, nice to meet you Sheila." The girl held out a hand for her to shake, which she did.
"Same here."
"Sheila and I go way back, isn't that right?" The witch nodded. "So, have you seen Damon?" Sheila looked down at her herbs and nodded.
"Where is he?"
"H-he's at my house…" Stefan's eyes closed in relief, while Elena's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What's he doing at your house?" The girl asked.
"Its okay, he's safe." Stefan answered. "Right?" Sheila bit her lip as she admitted the truth.
"He's locked up." Elena's eyes widened, and so did Stefan's.
"Is he hurt?" Elena spoke up again.
"No." Sheila looked at Elena's worried face, then at Stefan's. "I'd never hurt him. But I want him gone. I can't have him around Bonnie."
"Of course. I understand." He grabbed Elena's hand, and Sheila felt an odd twinge of jealousy. Their relationship was always platonic, but maybe it was the fact that he got to stay young and beautiful, so he could have young and beautiful things.
Heading to the underground shed, she found Damon standing along the bars.
"Finally!" He called once Stefan and Elena were in view.
"Damon, thank God you're okay." Elena said, and Sheila saw how his eyes softened ever so slightly at her. She rolled her eyes, not this love triangle thing again. She knew everything about that manipulative vampire being, and Sheila hated what it did to Stefan, and Damon, too, if she were being honest. It was sad.
"Yes, brother, it is good to see that you are well." Stefan said and turned to Sheila. "You may release him now, please?" He asked politely, and she shook her head.
"I need a promise that you'll… you'll leave and never return." She swallowed the sadness of never seeing Stefan again, and she watched as his eyes turned sad.
"Never return?" He asked solemnly, and Sheila had to remember why she was asking this of them.
She simply tilted her chin upward, and Stefan turned his attention to Damon.
Never return? Stefan looked at his brother, who's expression matched his own.
"What?" Damon's tone displayed the distress Stefan felt himself, though Stefan didn't understand why, its not like Damon was ever Sheila's big fan. Or vice-versa.
"You heard me." Sheila answered. Stefan looked at the woman he knew from many years ago. She still resembled the girl he met 50 years ago. He glanced at Elena who looked baffled at the exchange.
"I can't risk my granddaughter getting hurt because you guys needed favors from her the same way you did me. Need I remind you that I nearly died?" She asked with wide eyes, and Stefan felt guilty. He was afraid she would hold on to the memory, and after everything they've been through, it would be tossed precariously out of the window. Stefan honestly didn't blame her, but it didn't stop the sadness that overwhelmed him.
"Okay, I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?" Elena asked.
"I'm Sheila, I'm a witch." She elaborated, and Elena nodded like it all made sense. And it did from the beginning, had she been paying closer attention.
"I knew her grandmother from generations ago. One of her ancestors was Emily Bennett, the lady who waited on Katherine." Elena's mouth formed into an 'O' as the picture was drawn up. The young girl watched Sheila closely.
"Is something the matter, Elena?"
"N-no. I, you do look familiar." She answered as Sheila shrugged.
"I don't see how." Elena cocked her head at Sheila's words.
"Me either." Elena answered and Sheila rose her head to look at Stefan.
"Do we have a deal?" She held out a hand for him to shake.
"The hell we do!" Damon yelled from his cell right as Stefan reached out to confirm it.
"What are you talking about Damon? Its all the Vervain making you crazy." Stefan said, but was secretly relieved that Damon didn't want that either. He did miss Sheila, he spent years looking for her after what happened. He actually didn't realize that in a way, he was still looking for her. It seems that she didn't want to be found though, and that she certainly didn't forgive him.
"If thats what you want." Stefan addressed Sheila. He heard her heart pick up, and he felt something race in him as well.
"Yes. It is."
