A/N: Hi, guys! I hope you're liking the story so far! I just wanted to tell y'all that I have not given up on Invasion. I've just lost inspiration for it right now, but as soon as I get some, I will give you a new chapter! I just don't want you guys to be mad because I'm taking a break with it! It is not over yet! Anyway, what do you think of Restless so far? Do you like it? What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts so far! And I'd like to thank those of you who have taken the time to review already.

To those of you who haven't: review, review, review!

Bonnie was still shaking. She was holding a glass of water in her hands, and her eyes were tainted on the wall. Damon was sitting in the chair that she usually occupied, watching her with interest. The witch was still frightened from the dream. It had been so real. The feelings she felt were so real. She had never had a dream like that before, and she never wanted to go through it again. There had been bad nightmares since the final battle, and even before that, but never like this. Another whimper past her lips. She sat the glass of water down on the coffee table. She couldn't hold in any more. She was shaking too bad. Nothing was good. She was still having a hard time getting a grip on reality. She felt like she could be pulled back in that hell at any moment.

Damon hadn't said anything since he woke her up. He got her a glass of water, and perched himself on the chair, watching her. He watched her as she tried to control herself, and keep a hold on the real world. He watched her to make sure that she wasn't going to slip again because she knew that he could sense her edginess. There were no words he had to speak. Bonnie didn't want him to talk to her; not after what just happened in that dream. She could barely look at him. The usual comfortable, understanding silence that held them had turned awkward and difficult. She shifted in her seat, and looked down at her hands. She didn't like sitting here with him, but she didn't want him to leave because she didn't want to be alone.

She knew that the moment he left her alone, she would drop. The darkness would grab ahold of the real her. She didn't want to think what would happen after that. Bonnie closed her eyes, but then opened them, unable to handle the endless black behind her closed lids. In fact, even when her eyes were open it was too dark. It had to be past midnight, which meant that she had slept longer than she planned. At least Damon had found his way home. Bonnie put her head in her hands, and the candles that she had spread around the living room flickered with bright fire. It made it somewhat better, but not completely. Nothing would ever be alright again. Of course, nothing had been right since the final battle. This just made it worse.

"Don't leave." She whispered under her breath as she heard Damon shift. She didn't need to look up to know that he was looking at her. She could feel the heat of his gaze weighing down on her. It reminded her how the Damon from her dreams looked at her, but not exactly. That Damon was looking at her like she was something to eat, this one was looking at her with curiosity as if she was some type of experiment. But still, they both looked at her with pressure, as if they were trying to see into her soul. The difference was that Bonnie thought the dream Damon probably could, and this Damon couldn't.

He was silent for a long time before he spoke up. "It's the Darkness, isn't it?" He asked. His question made Bonnie raise her head to look at him. "It's finally presented itself to you?" Those blue eyes were questioning, and his lips were pursed as he waited for her answer.

A chill went up her spine. How could he possibly know what happened in her head? How could he know the horrible thing? Unless…. unless that was what Damon had been fighting all of this time. "It was…" she began, and then with uncertainty, she trailed off. "It was in me, and on me, and… and I couldn't do anything. It was horrible. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, I couldn't move. It was like I was a guest in my own body." She shivered again at the memory. As much as she didn't want to talk about it, it felt reassuring to tell someone; even if that someone was Damon. She looked up at him, and then looked down as she remembered who was in the dream with her. And the feelings she had. Bonnie was ashamed because she could feel Damon's gaze on her, and it felt as if he knew. Damn him.

Damon leaned back, and slung his arms over the arms of his chair. He was trying to asses her, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. He knew the feelings, of course. He knew the dream. It was the same dream that he had had so many times. The gallows, the people, the darkness that took control of everything. It was something that he fought every day. The nightmare wasn't just in his dreams, it came when he was awake. It offered him all of his deepest desires in exchange for his loyalty. Except the things he really wanted, he could never have because they were gone. They were gone, and nothing could bring them back because nothing could reverse death. Not like this.

He looked Bonnie over. The poor girl was shaking, and he could see tears in her eyes. He could easily remember the first time the darkness showed itself to him. It was long time ago, though; it felt like a hundred years. But it wasn't, really. It had just been a month after the final battle. He could remember it so easily. He and Bonnie were living in a small cabin in the woods because they didn't know what to do. He hated that cabin. It only had one room, and one bed, and Bonnie argued that since he was dead, he could take the couch. Anyway, after he had that first dream he hadn't slept for weeks because he was afraid that it'd come back. He didn't need to be asleep for it to haunt him, though.

The darkness came when he was awake too. He pulled him into a trance like state, and it refused to let him go. It forced him to relive that horrible day over and over. It never went away. The thing was always on the back of his mind. A shiver went up his spine at the thought of it. Every moment he had free of the thing, he tried not to think of it, because that usually triggered the darkness. He focused on Bonnie again, who was still shaking violently. To be honest, he was kind of surprised that it took that long to come to her. She'd always had it inside of her, but it took three years to speak to her.

Damon stood, and went into the kitchen. He could feel Bonnie's eyes following him, but he ignored it. The vampire opened the cabinet above the fridge, and pulled out his hidden bottle of whiskey. He then took two glasses from the sink, and poured some of the golden liquid into them. He figured that Bonnie could use some. He knew that he needed some. It wouldn't get rid of the voices, but it would temporarily numb the pain. And by temporarily he meant a couple of hours and many, many glasses later. Damon went back to the living room, and sat on the couch next to the little witch. He handed her a glass.

She pursed her lips. "I… No, Damon." She said, and he could hear the hesitation in her voice.

He was persistent. "Yes, Bonnie. If anyone ever needed to get so drunk they couldn't see straight, it is you. Now." He held the glass toward her a moment longer before she took it. He watched her until she tipped the glass to her lips, and made a face as the liquid went down her throat. Satisfied, Damon took a drink from his own glass. He couldn't remember the last time him and Bonnie had sat down and talked to each other without throwing insults. It had been forever ago, certainly. It had been even longer than that since they had sat this close together. He didn't know why he was doing it now, just that he knew what the darkness felt like, and how it was worse when no one was close.

The two sat in silence for a long time. How long, he didn't know. They sat, and they drank, and neither made an attempt to make conversation. They were content with how things were going. They were content with having someone around that understood. Eventually, the sun came up, but still, they didn't move. He knew that Bonnie was supposed to be at work, but she didn't mutter a word about it. He understood. It would be hard to be around all of those people, especially with the extra paranoia that the darkness inflicted. So they stayed together. Drunk and sad. Sometimes thinking, and sometimes just staring blankly with nothing on their minds.

They were connected now in a way that they never were before.

I have need for you, Damon Salvatore…