A/N: So, remember when I was all positive? Yeah, the last five minutes of 6.08 cured me of that. I actually had this penultimate chapter written and ready to update when I realized it was weirdly not nearly enough about Bonnie. So I scrapped it and wrote this, because Bonnie deserves to show she's not just a plot device or a trope or target practice, but a complicated, rich, incredibly powerful character. And also, I wrote this to remind myself that Damon is, more or less, a short-sighted work-in-progress.
Thank you for the reviews! Enjoy!
Four Months
Bonnie snapped her fingers. The candle went out. She did it again. The candle flickered. She focused. The fireplace went out, the great room went dark. Somewhere, Damon dropped his night cap.
"Dammit, Bonnie, that was a quarter of the non-vervained brandy!"
She ignored him. Another snap. Firelight suffused the room, brighter than before. She did it again. Dark. Light. She took solace in the power she displayed with a simple snap. And that was for theatrics. Bonnie closed her eyes and simply held the flame in her mind. This was strength. This was hers.
But it wasn't hers, not really. A current of electricity shot through her core, leaving her enervated. The flame went out and left nothing, not even a wisp of smoke to mark its existence. Bonnie forced herself to go back to the first time her power had been stripped away. It hurt more than Kai's touch. Perhaps it had to do with it being the first time she realized her magic could be taken. That fear of suddenly being truly powerless marked her for life. And now she met someone who could, with just a touch, render her permanently vulnerable. How could she forget that feeling?
Bonnie returned to the present. She flexed, expanding her reach to all the candles and fireplaces in the next three rooms. The feeling shrank but she still felt the sting of his grip on her wrist. All the candles in house. Damon yelled. She exhaled and the entire house went dark. The flame flickered in her mind, steady, a tinge of blue at the base.
When Bonnie breathed again, the house blazed with light and heat. She sensed Damon's anger before he arrived.
"I know he scared you, but instead of doing magical wax on, wax off, go find him and explode his head or something."
Bonnie altered the heat and light to its normal state. Damon stood half naked before her, holding a singed shirt. She looked at the hand clenched around it. It was still red and raw from a severe burn.
"Why isn't it healing like it normally would?"
"Because vampires don't like fire. Shares too many properties with our mortal enemy, sunlight."
He tossed the shirt to the couch and looked down on her, frowning. "Well?"
Bonnie pushed away from the desk and stood. "You have a nice body, Damon." She picked up the grimoire and made to move around him. Damon blocked the path.
He held up the burned hand. "This. I think I deserve an apology. Or an attempt at one."
The idea of apologizing to Damon struck Bonnie as preposterous. She actually laughed. "I'm sorry, but you want me to apologize to you for something I didn't mean to do? Seriously?"
He started to speak when Bonnie grabbed his wrist. "Look at it, Damon." His eyes fell to his hand. It was healed. "No scars, no sign of any permanent damage. Looks like you're still impervious to everything but a well-placed stake." Bonnie dropped his wrist and walked around him.
"What is your problem?"
Bonnie went to the inner study. Damon followed.
"Bonnie-"
"What?" Bonnie slammed the book down. "What is it now?" She hoped displaying a little temper would send him away, but his cheek muscle jumped and his eyes were at a slight squint, which meant he was angry and curious, which meant this was a fight.
"Kai upset you? Fine. Tell me. Or tell the moon. Or write it in your journal. But please, limit your pyromania to lighting a sea breeze candle for serenity."
"Whatever," Bonnie said. She opened the grimoire, determined to ignore him.
"Hey!"
His shout pushed past the last of her reserves. "You don't care," Bonnie yelled. She startled him and it made her even angrier. She couldn't contain it, she couldn't walk away this time.
"What?"
"You don't care. Kai can take my power, he can consume who I am, the reason I matter, the only way we can go home. And you don't care. You want me to do whatever it takes, but it might take all of me. And that doesn't matter, right? As long as you get back to Elena, back to planning your perfect Christmas, back to rebuilding your car with Stefan and taking Elena on that road trip to the Keys."
The silence was electric. His expression ranged from confused to hurt to furious.
"If I could do something, I would. But I can't. I have to depend on you, which terrifies me because you don't know what you're doing half the time!" He stepped closer. "And don't you dare throw my hope back in my face just because you're feeling useless. This isn't about me. This is about you."
"No," Bonnie shook her head, "This is about us." She realized the truth the moment she said it. It did not make saying it aloud any less terrifying, nor did it abate the ever-ripening animosity she felt towards him. At least now she understood why.
The anger evaporated. His eyes widened. He looked at a loss. Bonnie closed the book and looked at him, really looked at him.
"I remember the one time I ever really liked you. It was when Klaus hijacked Alaric's body and wanted to kill me, remember?" Bonnie looked down to her clenched hands. "God, it sounds like some horrible B-plot from a cheesy science fiction show."
"I remember," Damon said.
Bonnie glanced at him. They locked eyes for a brief moment before he turned away. "I never would have thought to play dead like that, not on my own," Bonnie continued. Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "We've come a very long way, haven't we?"
"I don't know what I can do," Damon said.
Bonnie gave up with a sigh. "There's nothing you can do, Damon, you're right." She sat at the desk and opened the grimoire. When he didn't leave, Bonnie stared at him. The longer she stared, the more it took to keep her eyes from watering.
"Can you go away now?"
Damon stared at her.
"Leave!"
He turned on his heel and left. A second later glass shattered, then the service tray. A minute later the door slammed.
Bonnie tried to concentrate on the topic of cosmic prisons, but her head ached. She left the study for a glass of water and Advil, came back, tried to read, closed the book and rested her head in her hands. She was on her own in this. Really and truly, this was her battle. Bonnie dug the heels of her hands into her eyes until the pressure became too much. She jumped up and left the house, walking blindly out into the night.
Okay, so in the past she needed him. So Kai could, potentially, most certainly, absolutely kill her. So he had the ascendant and the spell. So what? Yeah, backup would be nice, maybe some input in averting definite death, but did it need to come from Damon? She could figure this out on her own. She could, right? Bonnie stopped on the Wickery Bridge. The still, black water reflected the clear night sky like glass. She leaned over the railing and breathed. It would have been nice if he believed in her, Bonnie decided. If he believed in her, this fear wouldn't have her so locked up. She straightened up and shook herself. Damon didn't matter. He was right - this was about her.
Bonnie sighed. Kai was the problem. Kai had the ascendant. He knew the spell. She had magic. She knew nothing. No, Bonnie frowned. He could take her power, but he didn't. He seemed invested in her not just being a witch, but a Bennett witch. Bonnie tapped a beat on her chin. She knew Kai had the ascendant. She knew he was a psychopathic power vampire. She did not know if he knew anything about magic other than stealing it. But there was no way of knowing that for sure unless she confronted him, and the last time that happened, she got burned. But that was when she had no idea he was a psychopathic power vampire. Well, the psycho part she knew but...Bonnie turned in a circle. Didn't matter. There was only one way to figure out the truth.
She turned in the direction of the Manor. But first, an apology. Or at least an attempt at one.
Bonnie found Damon playing Sevens in his room. She knocked on the door jamb. He caught the ball, paused, then began the game over.
"Silent treatment? Okay," Bonnie clasped her hands, "so I'll just talk and you, for once, will just -"
There was a second pause between the ball bouncing off the wall, the door shutting in her face, and the ball resuming its beat.
Bonnie pressed her lips together. Everything in her said to retreat, let Damon vent his frustration or whatever but she remained in front of the door.
"I'm not going to apologize to you. But I will...thank you."
The beat stopped abruptly. Bonnie rushed on. "Look, I know you think I'm the worst witch in the world. I know you think I'm only good for the big, Hail Mary save, and even then I manage to screw it up. I know you don't believe in me. And this all sounds bad, but it's not. Because I need it. Without you, I wouldn't try so hard. I'd just accept defeat and go along with inevitable. So thank you."
Silence. Bonnie counted the seconds up to thirty. When he didn't open the door, she went downstairs to the study. Upstairs, the ball thwacked the wall seven times. She opened the grimoire and read until her eyes swam.
Bonnie woke to being moved. Her head came to rest on a shoulder while arms carried her with little effort through the darkened manor. Sleep blurred her vision, but she knew it was Damon. Bonnie was too tired to tense up, her tongue too thick with sleep to exclaim. She left her head where it was and closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of brandy, old books, and Brut aftershave.