A/N: *blinks blearily* It's been a lonnnnggg time since I've touched this. I was ready to give up on it because writing non-humanity Damon is a pain I didn't think it would be. But I found some inspiration to churn out this chapter. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for your patience.
In a flurry of hair, Elena charged up the stairs of her residential building, feet pounding.
All night Elena's mind had sailed to chartered and unchartered territories in what Damon might have done and whom he might have killed since leaving the bar. Had he spent the night drinking from random women and fucking them until they were dead? Did he kidnap anyone and played forensic pathologist with them? Elena didn't know and of course that worried her. No, she didn't remember her full history with Damon, and the scant pieces she could recall, served as a painful reminder vampires could be...evil.
Rounding the corner of the second floor, Elena almost plowed into a freckled faced girl.
"Sorry," she muttered, side-stepped the chick and proceeded toward her room.
"Oh, you might want to want to knock before going in there."
Elena whipped around to face the advice solicitor. Immediately she was ensnared, distracted by the girl's cheeks blooming rosier by the minute, which did nothing to quell Elena's hunger. It had been well over twelve hours since the last time she had a drop of blood. The girl's blood…the doppelganger could hear it pounding in her own ears, feel it rushing through her veins. Her gums started throbbing, saliva congealed in the bottom of her mouth. Elena sucked in a massive breath and forced herself to concentrate on not attacking.
"Why?" Elena finally asked.
"Your roommate…she had a guest. He might still be in there."
Elena's indrawn breath was audible. "Thanks," she muttered and quickly flew into her room.
The rubber soles of her boots sloshed through water. Umber irises took in the sight of the room, the water damage. Her nose could already scent preliminary mildew and mold building.
"Bonnie?"
The witch in question exited the bathroom fully dressed and looking no worse for wear. "Hey Ele—" the rest of her sentiment was cut off as she was pulled tightly into Elena's arms. "Okay…wow," Bonnie said once she was let go.
"Are you all right?" Elena appraised her for any telltale signs her friend came face to face with Damon.
Nodding, Bonnie skirted around Elena and continued to her bed. A suitcase sat perched atop of it.
"What happened last night? Where were you?" the doppelganger began her inquisition.
Bonnie neatly folded the clothes that survived the in-room storm she created by activating the sprinkler system. She reported the incident as faulty plumbing and was being moved temporarily to the grad student dorms which were arguably nicer.
"I was out with Koffi last night. We…went to a strip club."
Elena flounced on the bed for the moment ignoring the soggy duvet she sat on, her mouth open in surprise. "You went to a strip club?"
Bonnie glanced at the doppelganger. "Yeah. I had…" she giggled, "I had fun."
"I would imagine. So you never crossed paths with Enzo? He never compelled or paid someone to kidnap you?" Elena knew all of this, but had a bad habit of repeating facts only so they could make sense in her frazzled head.
"I haven't seen Enzo since I've been back," Bonnie replied. She had only technically been back for a week. Coming across him had been the last thing on Bonnie's to-do list. And she hadn't been checking for him either. Now that he wanted to play games, that was going to have to change.
"Damon…what happened with him? Stefan didn't give a whole lot of specifics," Elena queried.
A dimple appeared on the corner of Bonnie's mouth. "He showed up here, tried to bite me but I used my magic to get him to stop. He was being weird, weirder than usual and I had a feeling something was up with him, just didn't know what," Bonnie tossed another pile of folded shirts into the suitcase. "We talked for a bit and he was standing behind me right over there," she nodded in the direction of her dresser. "That's when Stefan showed up and told me what happened. He and Damon got into it. I set off the sprinklers and set his boots on fire. He fled."
Elena absorbed everything, seeing it play out in a scenario she was sure she had been an eyewitness to, too many times. "He could be anywhere now."
"Yeah."
Both young women brooded over that and how dangerous it was to let Damon wander around in his present state.
Elena finally caught on to what Bonnie was doing. "Why are you packing?"
"I'm moving into the grad dorm until the room is disinfected, cleaned."
"Oh…"
"Are you going to stay at the boardinghouse?"
"I haven't given it much thought. I guess I could stay there. Or I could stay with Matt. My living situation isn't my top priority at the moment."
Bonnie nodded absently and continued packing.
Elena nibbled her lip before rubbing her tired face. "What are we going to do about Damon?"
"I…I don't know why," Bonnie began, "but I feel like I can get through to him." She had had time to think about her conversation with Stefan who boldly hinted she could be key in unlocking Damon's humanity. Bonnie would hold off in running with those particular scissors, but she understood him better than she did a year ago. Learned things about him she could use to her advantage. It was worth a shot.
Besides, Bonnie liked to believe he'd do the same for her.
"Damon could hurt you," Elena forced her out of her musings.
"I know. But our alternatives are what?" Bonnie chucked her panties and bras next. "We inflict pain? He was experimented on for years in the 50's. That won't faze him because he survived. Every painful encounter he suffered, he survived. Fear won't get him to turn his humanity on."
"What if we trick him into thinking I'm dead?" Elena suggested. "You could desiccate me or do a glamour where it appears I've been staked. When I thought Damon had killed Matt that's what triggered me to turn my humanity back on."
"And because of that Damon wouldn't fall for it. He'd know it was a ploy," Bonnie dismissed.
"What if…he thought he was the one killing me?"
Bonnie raised a brow, had a thought, and canned it. "It's too risky. What if he does kill you, then what? He'd never turn it on again."
"Well I'm out of ideas. Stefan thinks it's best to ignore Damon and wait for him to make the first move, which he already did by coming here with the intent of killing you." Elena studied her petite friend for a moment, replaying something Bonnie said earlier. "Why do you think you could convince Damon to flip his switch?"
The question was wrapped in layers of accusation and possibly jealously. Bonnie only faltered for a second seeing the trap and wondering if she should fall into it. Instead, she went the safe route, the default.
"I'm a witch. My kind created vampires. We should be able to control them. That means emotionally as well."
"Bonnie," Elena rose to her feet. "It's not on you to save Damon. Besides, he asked me to bring him back," she laid a hand on her chest.
That wasn't entirely true, Elena knew this. The request had been made of her and Stefan, but as Damon's girlfriend, Elena felt the bulk of this particular weight landed on her shoulders. She had been informed on the times Damon had bent the rules, went against the grain to save her life. She'd repay him, be the one to bring him back from the brink. And she wouldn't need magic to do it either.
Bonnie could clearly see the pissing contest Elena was determined to have. She could poster and argue all she liked, but at the end of the day they and everyone knew who would come to the rescue. Like always. It wouldn't be Katherine's clone.
Bonnie zipped up her suitcase and hefted it off the bed, lips pursed. "I'm going to help Damon, and I really don't need your permission to do so. I can get through to him."
The two friends held one another's gazes before Bonnie made her way to the door. Yet Elena's next words stopped her from making an escape.
"Four months alone with him doesn't change who he's been for nearly two centuries."
The green-eyed witch glanced over her shoulder, "Neither has fucking pussy from the same family. Things have to start somewhere, right?"
He lost count of how many he watched his brother gorge himself on. Gripping the bottle, strangling it in his fist, Stefan Salvatore supplemented his hunger with booze hoping to kill the cravings, stave off the thirst. The metallic potency of lifeblood titillated his senses made him drunk with need. He refused to unpark his ass from the barstool, afraid if he moved so much as a solitary inch, he'd join his brother and be one artery away from ripper-dom.
Of course Damon knew Stefan was here in this establishment. Had felt the dweeb follow him inside. Maybe he should feel honored. His little brother was as obsessed with him as the doppelganger, but Damon was…he didn't have an adequate word for Stefan's interruption of him and the witch. Pissed, maybe. It was a start. The elder was simply going to make the younger regret it.
"You know you want to, brother," Damon goaded like a damn blood pimp. "I'm drinking prime 1989 AB positive."
Over and over, Damon flitted from person to person, leaving people in a fugue of ecstasy and near-death. They wanted him, he got what he needed, and he moved on. Though he waited for Stefan to ride in on his white horse to save these cows. He never did.
Now that was different.
He could say he was feeling envious. And tempted. Stefan was. How long had it been since he gorged, guiltlessly. Some thought his inhumanity was the animalistic and amoral manifestation of his blood addiction. No. It was the ripper. The part of him that thought a corpse would look better shredded beyond recognition, but then his conscience would kick in, and he'd put those pieces back together. He was a serial killer just like Damon. Whereas Damon never pretended to hate that side of himself, relished it, Stefan fought against it.
The struggle to remember why he was here and not partake was very strong.
Stefan watched as Damon peeled back a tiny strip of skin on his latest victim. The miniscule droplets of ruptured veins and capillaries converged into a flood of crimson that soaked the hapless woman's shirt.
Snapping his head away and cursing violently, Stefan tore off the stool and flashed his way to the exit. He couldn't take it. The pain in his gums nearly enough to have a lone tear streak down his cheek. He knew his face was changing at a speed he couldn't control, and he needed to get away from people and Damon's taunt before he too took a tumble right over the edge.
But alas the road to freedom was blocked by a chin-stained Damon. "Leaving without saying goodbye?"
"Move, Damon."
"Like that's gonna happen."
Stefan flew to his brother, jacked him by the lapels of his jacket, and slammed him into the wall. Pieces of brick crumbled to the ground.
Damon grinned and smeared his bloodied fingers right underneath Stefan's nose, giving him a mustache of sorts.
The quiver was instant and for one insane moment Stefan wanted blood so bad he had been near tempted to suck Damon's fingers clean. That was a sobering thought. Very sobering.
"What are you holding on to, Stefan? Restraint? What has that gotten you but the shit end of the stick?"
"No, thanks to you."
"Touché," Damon raised a brow. "Being fiends is who we are. Beautiful monsters with no hope of redemption. Accept your fate, brother and stop torturing yourself with the confines of humanity. We are not human. The rules are...there are no rules."
Stefan thrust himself away from Damon, snarling. "Sprouting Katherine Pierce ideology at me? I thought you'd try to be more original."
"Everything is a copy of something, Stefan. So what are you a reflection of?"
"I'm a reflection of you! A bastard who wants to be good but fucks things up in the process. I turned you into this because I was the perfect fucking son, you hated me for it, but I didn't want to live without my brother."
Damon snickered. "Aww, you can do better than that, Steffy. I've gotten over your pathetic attempts to be our bigoted father's favorite. And sure Katherine and Elena may have loved you first and best, but I fucked them both…eventually. But none of that matters. When will you get that through your skull?"
Stefan's ringing phone interrupted. He dug it out of his pocket, answered, staring Damon right in the eye, "Hey, Bonnie."
The elder showed no reaction to hearing that name or the contralto timber of her voice.
"Yeah, I found Damon. I'm standing right in front of him."
"Tell him to meet me at the boardinghouse."
"What?"
"No need to repeat," Damon tapped his ear. "I heard that."
"Bonnie…Damon, WAIT!"
Walking backwards, Damon blended superbly with the darkness. He was gone.
Phone still poised to his ear, Stefan said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yep."
"He's on his way."
Hanging up, Stefan cocked a smile. Damon wouldn't know what hit him if things went according to plan.
Was there a more determined person who begged for death than Bonnie Bennett? Damon wasn't sure, but even he could appreciate the platter on which she placed herself. A feast required he at least clean the blood of his prior donors from his mouth and fingers, but he was…something niggled in the back of his mind.
He strolled into his home. A dark eyebrow arched at the tableau in front of him. Now if this wasn't terribly cute and clichéd. Muted light. Candles. A fire roaring. No music though. This did and did not have her signature on it. Before he moved any farther inside the house, he listened. This group liked springing traps.
To Damon's satisfaction he detected nothing save her pulse. That didn't make him trust her, either.
In any case, Damon stepped down into the living room, twirling his keys that he tossed on the sofa. "Should I be mad you didn't go through any of this trouble to seduce me back in 1994?"
"You think I'm here to seduce you?"
Tilting his head to the side Bonnie wasn't attired in lingerie that encouraged one to rip it off of her. She wore jeans and a shirt, granted both fit her svelte figure like a glove. A part of him lamented the fact she no longer walked around braless in lacy tops. He should have taken more advantage of blatantly staring at her breasts. Her hair was pushed back from her face that was perfectly heart-shaped. Those eyes which usually shot daggers at him or anything that got in her way, were subdued, practically heavy-lidded.
Damon bit into his bottom lip, "Well, I haven't forgotten what you said to me a few days ago when you barged in my room."
Bonnie shook her head. "I'm not here to rehash that or to talk about feelings."
Damon was in front of her in instant, "So you're here to pick up where things were rudely interrupted by my brother?"
Blindly she reached behind her for a glass of bourbon, offered it to Damon. "Don't worry. It's not spiked with vervain," Bonnie reassured.
"I'd be able to smell it…being this close to you," he took the glass but didn't sip its contents.
"To answer your question, I'm here because I want to channel. You."
The pale vampire let his gaze roam Bonnie from top to bottom as if she were fractured pieces of a van Gogh painting. "Channel?" he asked blandly. "You expect me to believe that bullshit?"
"Believe what you want, Damon. I don't have an ulterior motive."
He scoffed.
"Are you up for it?"
Damon leered then. "I don't think you want what I'm up for. Then again…it has been a while for you, hasn't it?"
"You're not good enough to fuck me," Bonnie brazened. She plucked one of his insecurities.
Veins beneath Damon's eyes throbbed and cooled. He snorted. "You'll excuse me if I find you," and he gave her an unimpressed once-over, "to be incompetent at best, weak as hell at the least."
Her chest expanded on a deep breath at the insult. "Well, I see I'm not getting anywhere with you tonight. I should have asked Stefan," and Bonnie said that deliberately under her breath knowing the younger Salvatore was one of the biggest triggers for Damon.
Though he made not a move or even a sarcastic retort, Bonnie felt something within Damon shift, draw up like a dog spoiling for a fight.
"You'd channel Stefan?" You'd let him touch you?
"It's been a minute since I've channeled a vampire. The last time was when I had you, Klaus, and Stefan drink my blood to do the desiccation spell. That rush," Bonnie closed her eyes, arched her back a little as if she was in the moment, experiencing that rush of magic and power once again. Slowly her eyes opened and they were hazy, "It's been a long time since I've felt that good."
And she said she wasn't here to seduce him. Damon was suddenly very thirsty.
However, he invented this game. He wasn't going to fall for it. "Have you forgotten what I came to your room last night to do? You think that's off my agenda now?"
"What is on your agenda exactly?"
Damon tossed back the bourbon and chucked the glass into the fireplace. The percussion of it splitting to pieces against brick was like a million little bells ringing. When he pulled his lips back from his teeth there was just the small hint of fang. He stepped closer. Close enough the odor of copper, metal, and bourbon, Bonnie could smell on his breath. But she never took a step back, remained rooted to the spot, her warmth encompassing the last vestiges of space between them.
He snatched her wrists faster than she was prepared for. Bonnie gasped, relaxed though she vibrated as her magic flared, ready to be released. Damon pressed her closed fists against his hard chest.
"I don't have any agenda, witch. Having one would imply premeditation, and premeditation means you're thinking, and if you're thinking it means an emotion of some sort is guiding you. Nothing is guiding me besides primitive impulses."
"Which are?" Bonnie winced as Damon increased the pressure on the delicate bones of her wrists.
Smirking, Damon said, "Hunger, desire, the need to defend myself."
"You're feeling, that's good. But you feel that need now? To defend yourself?"
Damon slid her hands down his chest while pulling Bonnie closer, so close when he looked down his chin brushed her forehead. "One good shove and I could throw you into the wall, collapse your lung. I pull just right, I can take your arms off, or," he whispered in her ear, "I could drain you the fuck dry."
"Hmm, since you're so willing to share what you'd do to defend yourself, guess it's only fair I show you."
Damon had no time to question anything.
An indecipherable noise wafted through his mouth as something wrapped around his neck and yanked him backwards. It contrasted with the singeing pain spreading from the center of his palms to his fingers making him release Bonnie. She burned him. Damon was on his hands and knees grabbing at nothing but air around his neck as it was crushed from the inside. Murder flashed in his orbs even as he struggled in a fight he couldn't win until Bonnie was good and ready to call it quits.
"Me channeling you, Damon could have been enjoyable," Bonnie sighed. "Now I see I'm gonna have to do this the hard way."
Splaying her hand open, Bonnie flipped Damon on his back. She stood above him, a foot planted on each side of his narrow hips. "While I take energy from you, you might end up reliving some of your most terrible moments. I don't want to do that to you, Damon. You're my friend, and as a general rule, friends don't hurt each other. But," Bonnie deadpanned, and the candles blew out, the fire dimmed until it was nearly pitch-black in the living room, "you tried to kill me last night, just insulted me as a person, and after the year…years I've had, I'm not letting that shit slide."
Damon's eyes widened as it seemed the darkness began to swallow Bonnie leaving nothing visible but her eyes. Eyes diminished to a thin circle of green. That darkness thus latched on to him. He tried to resist, fight, but was essentially powerless. At her mercy. The vise around Damon's throat slackened, and he could talk though talking was hard considering he hadn't made up his mind if he should start screaming. Screaming would imply he was afraid, and he wasn't. He wasn't. He just hated not being in gotdamn control!
Whatever Bonnie was doing it was an invasion. Damon felt her rooting around inside of him, sifting as if he were dirt containing gold. The minute she entered his mind, he grit his teeth and threw up barriers but they were simply too weak. Humanity made it possible to hide things, but without it, it meant your secrets were laid bare, ready to be picked over. She wasn't being malicious, but curious, digging her metaphysical fingers into him as far as they could go.
Extraction.
Bonnie was pulling on that chord, that thin piece of blubber that held him together. Kept his soul alive in a body that was dead. And as she pulled she placed something into him, but Damon could hardly feel what it was. Euphoria, acceptance? No. It was neither of those things. But something insidious. Deadly and poisonous to a vampire.
Hope.
Ugh.
The faces, the kills, the blood, the sex all of it came roaring to the forefront of his mind but he batted them away. Not every single memory as there were too many, but enough that it didn't make his switch flutter. Not one little bit.
Damon realized at some point he could move and he was up and knocking Bonnie off her feet. She yelped.
He was on top of her, hand wrapped around her throat. They were still connected, Damon knew that, could feel it, feel her. Bonnie felt….it was distracting. But he hated it. Hated her.
No. Hate was an emotion. Damon voided that.
"Killing you, you little bitch would make me feel better though that wouldn't hurt for too long," he paused. "But I know what will."
"Damon," Bonnie croaked.
He loosened his grip on her neck, flashed a brilliant smile and bounced to his feet.
Bonnie thought about tightening her magic around Damon, but catching that glint in his eye, she drew it back, recalled it. Coughed. She had been so close to finding his switch and manually turning it on.
As he edged to the door, Bonnie peeled herself off the floor. "Whatever you're playing to do, don't."
"You think you're in love with me? Well let's see if you'll become just another Elena in forgiving me for my fuck ups. I wonder what your friend Koffi is doing."
"DAMON!"
He was already gone.
A/N: So what did we think of this chapter? It's time I've made that appeal again, about reviewing. I'm sure not a lot are feeling enthused about reading fanfic these days. However, if you haven't completely given up, please let me know. I've finished three major stories this year, and what helped pushed me to the finish line was hearing you guys' feedback. I'd like to finish more, so if you could just drop something that would be heavenly. Thank you.
