Walking back into the living room, Damon stands behind the couch, hands placed in front of him and gripping the brown fabric of the piece of furniture.

He had walked out just in time to see Valarie start the spell. The red-headed heretic's eyes were shut, legs crossed campfire style and her hands resting on her knees turned up. Sitting on her palms are the stones, each about the size of a dime. And standing off to the side, lurking in the shadows where he could barely be seen was Enzo. Damon gave him a quick once-over, noticing that the British vampire's face had healed up nicely—much to Damon's disliking—and had changed into a clean shirt.

Enzo wore a frown on his face, arms clasped together behind his back and gazed fixed on Valarie as she started reciting lines from the old spellbook that she had the two men run around halfway cross-country to find. Damon adverts his gaze elsewhere right when Enzo's brown eyes, the ones that shone from the flames dancing in the fireplace, flickered over to him, sensing him staring a hole in the side of his skull.

Damon stays perfectly still, frozen like a statue and even though he didn't technically need to breathe, he still holds his breath as Enzo flashes over to him. He simply glances over at his old friend, raising a questioning eyebrow his way. Sweat begins to form on the back of Damon's neck as he waited patiently for Enzo to speak, growing anxious as the seconds ticked by ever-so-slowly. He tried to think about things other than the man looming over him, practically breathing down his shoulder. It feels like an hour before Enzo decides to open his mouth when in reality, a minute had only gone by.

"Damon," Enzo speaks lowly in his ear, "Can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

Hesitantly, Damon nods, obliging to Enzo's request and following the man outside.

As soon as he steps one foot onto the porch, Damon is hit with a blast of cool night air. It was dark outside, he noticed, the stars hanging high in the sky and shining as the only source of light came from the moon that beamed down at them. He takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air, his breath looking like puffs of smoke, and enjoying the smell the pine trees that surrounding the cabin gave off. He closes his eyes for just a second and when the moment is over, he opens his lids and his eyes scan area until they stop and find their target. Damon finds Enzo leaning against his car, hands shoved into his pockets as he stared blankly ahead. With a sigh, Damon trudges over to him, not bothering with the vamp-speed.

At the sound of his feet scuffing against the ground, Enzo's head shoots up, his eyes landing directly on him. The blue-eyed vampire slowly makes his way over to him, head bowed slightly but kept his gaze on Enzo. As he finally standing in front of the car, Damon notices that the British man standing beside him wasn't saying anything, he asks—mostly from all the silence and it was driving him crazy—, "You wanted to talk?"

That's when Enzo seems to have snapped out of whatever daze he'd been in. Looking over his shoulder, he finds Damon standing right there, beside him. It surprises him slightly, although he had seen and heard him coming, a part of his brain apparently hadn't caught up with reality. To answer Damon's question, Enzo simply nods, stating, "Yes. We...We need to talk."

Damon raises a curious eyebrow, the worried expression on Enzo's face not going unnoticed by him. "Okay...About what exactly?"

The pointed look Damon receives speaks louder than words and like a faint whisper, like the wind that ran a shiver down his spine and caused his skin to prickle with goosebumps, he heard Stefan's voice in his head—like a horrible reminder, and Damon had a hinting suspicion that if he were ever able to see his conscious it would look exactly like his baby brother. He would probably tell him he's an idiot and then pat him on the back while shaking his head, wondering what he was doing with his eternal life. But Damon pushes those thoughts to the back of his head as Enzo turns his entire body to face him, such seriousness in not only his facial features but also in his stance that it caught Damon off guard when he says:

"About you trading your immortality for Bonnie's."

Damon's eyes widen for a fraction of second, slightly confused until he realizes what Enzo is referring to and his mind catches up. It wasn't that he had forgotten per-say, more of he had been trying not to think of it. And this little plan of his was—had—working until this very moment when Enzo decided to bring it up. The only reason the very thought of what could happen to him hadn't actually crossed his mind, mostly because he had been too busy trying to keep Bonnie alive and running cross-country to find a cure or a spell (anything really) that would help her. Damon called it dumb luck on the night when he and Valarie had traveled up to the old Parker home on Alaric's theory—thanks to something his dead wife, Jo, had mentioned before her passing—that the Parker's, because the deceased family had been part of a coven, probably had a whole collection of grimoires hidden somewhere. Surprisingly, Alaric had been right.

"...Oh. That."

"Yeah, that," Enzo says, lips pulling apart into a sneer. "Have you even given the plan much thought of what it could do to you or were you just going to...I don't know, perhaps, give up?"

At this, Damon's hands clench into fists at his sides at Enzo's question. He could feel his gut twist with anger—the emotion so familiar to him, it seemed that it was the only emotion he could feel. It might've seemed stupid to anyone else, but even though Enzo had said it as a question, it sounded more like a statement to Damon's ears. And he hated how it made him feel; how Enzo was right. He did have a knack of changing his mind at the last minute—and why wouldn't Enzo question him? Hell, he had backed down when he is own goddamn brother had been in a life-or-death situation. It wasn't that he didn't care about Stefan because he did, but he obviously cared about himself more.

...But something about Bonnie was different. He owed her too much to back out of the plan. He promised Emily that he would keep her lineage safe from harm, but so far he had only been the cause of their destruction from his own selfishness. And right there and then as Damon stood in front of Enzo, the man that had captured the heart of the one woman he—somehow—cared more about then the sleeping girl in the coffin, he understood.

Enzo wasn't making a statement.

He was giving Damon a choice—he could either live up to his promises for once or back down like a coward and let his best friend die.

The question was: Which option was he going to choose?

At that moment, he heard the one voice in his head—the voice that belonged to the one person Damon has ever allowed to give him shit for all the horrible things his done and spared their life. It was Bonnie. Her voice simmered his anger, soothed his soul, and he knew what he had to do.

"There's always a choice, Damon."

And he always seemed to be making the wrong one.

But that would end here and now.

Shaking his head, Damon stares Enzo right in the eye—a silent challenge in the other man's eyes. "I'm prepared to do what needs to be done."

Enzo raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Even if it means sacrificing your life and giving up any chance of ever seeing Elena again?"

Without any hesitation, Damon answers immediately, ignoring the part where he mentioned Elena.

"For Bonnie, I'll do anything—even if it means death."

A/N: Please leave a review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!