Note: Oh yeah, that time I left this story open-ended since December 2015? You deserve so much better than me, but here is the update all you lovelies have been waiting for. Gosh, so much has happened since I started this story and so many of my favourites in this were obliterated by canon, but that's why we're here, right?
I'm dedicating this to the best thing that happened to me through FF, my friendship with CheleonRage – I love you dearly, I treasure our friendship and I can't wait to one day dance with you in the streets of NOLA.
Chapter Seven: Afterlife
Afterlife
Oh what a terrible thought
'Cause I've lived without you once before
Damon had been tempering his anger by faffing over her for the last few minutes, while her words rang in his ears.
And I want you to know that no matter what it sounds like…I did my best, Damon. I really did.
He wrapped a dark blue throw blanket around her shoulders and put a mug of strong, black and sugarless coffee in her hands, and sat himself down opposite her while she kept her eyes fixed on the helixes of smoke rising lovingly from the porcelain cup. He finally remembered how she liked her coffee.
"Please say something." His voice reanimated her, green eyes locking with his own.
"I'm sorry," He swallowed at the lurch in his stomach when he saw the sheen covering her eyes, "I don't know how to start this conversation with you, not when it might be the last one we ever have."
"Well let's make that decision together, shall we?" Damon did his best to offset the mood, "Who knows, we could surprise each other – again." She pressed her eyes closed for a moment and nodded once, accepting whatever would happen next.
"Back home, after everything, I did something awful," the lump in her throat thickened, climbing to the back of her mouth and strangling her voice, "We were having one of our bad days," Damon averted his eyes, ashamed that there had been so many of those and uneasy at the shake in her voice. "…You, uh, it was the day, you and Stefan went for that drive –"
"I remember, out to the lake house –"
"I spelled Caroline, and Matt and pretty much anyone I saw that day to forget they'd seen me, and I went to see Elena…after I'd visited daddy's grave and Grams'. I wanted to say goodbye and all you know?" She put the mug down because her hands were shaking so much. Damon flashed to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in his, wanting to stop the tremors.
"I …figured I'd finish off the job I'd started before …with the gas from your Camaro," Damon's eyes darkened, "I, uh, spelled my heart to stop – a magically induced heart attack of sorts," tears welled in her eyes, "I can't tell you what was going through my mind before, or who or what I was doing it for, but it felt like I owed it to Elena, just one last time…I –" her head fell forward and she rested it atop Damon's as he continued to cup her small hands.
"But I woke up, god I felt like I was on fire Damon, I woke up and I was burning and she was still lying there, in her –" she began to sob in earnest, "I can't bring her back, I tried everything I could, but as long as I'm here she won't be and Damon…" she pulled free of him and made it so that he could look her in the eye when she said it, "Damon, I don't think I'm ever going to die." Bonnie's bottom lip trembled as she finally said the words, "I don't think Elena is ever coming back."
A myriad of emotions fled over Damon's expression as he was crouched before her, his hands going limp, until they fell away from her. "…Damon?" She moved forward as he stood to his feet. "Damon, wait."
He turned neatly away from her, taking his jacket from the back of her armchair and walked resolutely to the door without saying a word. "Please come back." She said softly as he opened the double doors.
"I will." Was all he said, his voice as small as she'd ever heard it. She would never forget the look on his face as he left her behind.
It feels like a lifetime
Oh god I don't think I could do two
Around three or four in the morning, Bonnie felt a dip in her mattress. She couldn't remember falling asleep, let alone getting into bed. Staying on her side, she lifted her arm up and out of the way, exhaling when Damon slid his arm over her waist. Wrapping her arm over his, she pulled him a little closer. It was something they'd gotten into the habit of doing when it had just been them in the prison world, when they stopped pretending to loathe the other's existence long enough to also admit just how crippling the loneliness was. It wasn't warm so much as it was familiar and it wasn't weird so much as it was exactly what they both needed. Both then and now.
"Bon?" He was pressing his face into the space between her shoulder blades.
"Mm?" She was too scared to say any more.
"Please don't ever try to kill yourself again, I won't survive it."
Klaus hadn't felt this confounded in centuries.
Any legend with the connotations of 'the undead' only brought up myth, hearsay, or worse, a trilogy of mediocre conjecture fronting as Young Adult fiction in the best seller's shelf. Add to this the concept of an undead witch and, hell, even his mother's wildest dreams stopped short of such an idea. And she'd made vampires.
Even in the supernatural world itself, there were only so many species of supernatural, and all the years behind them meant that all that needed to be known, was known.
With Hope gurgling happily in his lap, the Hybrid flipped through page after page after page. Grimoires, supernatural tomes, diaries, records, anything he had archived. He was reading at the pace of about a book a minute but he still felt like he wasn't getting any closer to Bonnie Bennett.
"Who is Bonnie Bennett?" He spoke aloud, eyes dancing as they locked with his daughter's. "She can absorb the magic of other witches, and live to tell the story." He held up a finger, "A witch that has died more than any other supernatural I know," he lifted his child up into his arms, "A witch that hails from a line of magic purer than ours, my darling. And that's really saying something, since your grandmother birthed the first species of supernatural specimens outside of witches themselves." Hope placed her small, chubby hand against his cheek, and unbeknownst to him, his eyes began to glow an eerie white.
"The Monvoisin's created the sirens, the Kyteler's birthed the succubi, and the Southeil's gave us the werewolves while the Laveau's made fae." Hope's giggles spurned on his own comical humour, "And while the Mikaelson's went down in history for the creation of the vampire, the Bennett's held a higher achievement for those who've lived long enough to know the essence of what animates us all – it is said," he dropped his voice conspiratorially, "That the god of all was a Bennett woman, did you know?" Hope cooed.
"She birthed magic in her slumber one night between the stars," Klaus chuckled, "Wait." He stopped short and looked down at her. "How did I know that?" She dropped her hand from his face and tucked herself under his chin, feigning innocence. Klaus cradled her as his brows furrowed, as though he could see the rabbit hole appearing before him, goading him into taking the leap. "…Bizarre."
It was only ever you
Bonnie's phone woke her around eleven that morning and she answered without checking the caller ID, further evidence to how much having Damon Salvatore around, eased her guard down.
"Mm?" She grunted into the device.
"I don't know how I'm not hungover," Cami said by way of greeting, "I was going to ask you over for brunch, but I think supper might be a better idea?"
"Brunch is good," Bonnie yawned, flipping onto her back. "I warn you though, Damon is going to insist on making pancakes and they're awful."
"You know I can hear you." He called from her living room, making her smile.
"We can be there in half an hour."
"Perfect," Cami laughed. "See you soon, Bon." Hanging up, Bonnie padded to where Damon was, watching him for a few moments before she spoke.
"Are we okay?" She folded her arms across her torso, hiding her nervousness.
"I know this isn't the last time we're going to talk about this," he stood up from the couch where he'd been reading, "So for now I'm going to get to the important things first; one, never ever again toss a coin with your life, like it's meaningless, I made that mistake once too Bon, and I can't stand that it's still been in the back of your mind all this time, and I wish I could take away all the things I did to add to you thinking that I would ever trade your life for Elena's. I wouldn't. I have before," he corrected himself, putting his hands on her shoulders, "But I won't ever be making that mistake again. But that means nothing if you can't say the same for yourself." His eyes bored into hers.
"Two, none of this is your fault. I don't blame you for not having Elena with me. It's sick that the choice was left to me, and I've struggled with the consequences for a long time now, but I've never reached the point of regret in choosing you, I don't think I ever will." He drew in a deep breath, "and lastly," her breathing hitched at the tears in his eyes, "You're my best friend," he gave her shoulders a squeeze, "That means that you're important to me, you're my family, you're someone I love enough to know that I need to do something about it. My ill-fated love has been a long time coming, and I would be severely misguided in blaming you for the outcomes."
"Maybe I was never meant to love that face," Damon pondered, "But that's something I'll have to work through, and I'm gonna need my best friend for that."
"I'm right here."
"I know, thank you," he pulled her into a hug, "I love you."
"I love you too." She settled into his embrace with a sad smile. He'd never know how far he'd come.
"Are my pancakes really that bad?" He asked after a beat.
"Awful." Bonnie laughed.
"I think Cami should be the final vote on this one," he grinned, "Get in the shower, we're gonna be late."
As Bonnie and Damon stepped out of her house, Marcel was primed to reveal himself to try one more time to bridge the gap between them. But Klaus had always been faster than him.
Yanking his son a good hundred metres from the witch and her unlikely best friend, Klaus glared at Marcellus with a look that equalled broken limbs.
"What are you doing?" Klaus didn't even wait for an answer, "When I said that I would be the first to gauge the meaning of her presence, perhaps I should have included that I would also be the only one to speak to her."
"You're being so obvious, father," Marcel spat, "You want something from her, and you're just scrambling to be the first one in the line."
"Is that what you think this is?" Klaus gawked. "That I need something of the girl?"
"For what other reason would you have been here as well?" Marcel was beginning to think Klaus was the only one buying the lies he'd made a reputation spewing.
"Do you think that Bonnie Bennett would ever be giving to someone who isn't from her inner circle? We killed her mother and she still managed to stand her ground," and by that he meant, she almost took his life, "And now she has both Dahlia and Esther inside of her and you think, what?" he eyed out Marcel, "You'll get back into Rebekah's good graces by bringing Kol back?"
"How did you know that?" Excellent question, Klaus thought.
"I'm your father," Klaus said flippantly, "I know everything."
"You haven't been much of a father to me since I was turned and I wouldn't count on you growing soft in your old age, it's been too long for sense to find traction in your habits." Marcel made to turn away, "And don't think for one second I believe you don't want anything from her, that's what we do, it's what we've always done." He looked Klaus dead in the eye. "We make sure that someone else pays the price for the proof of our power."
As Bonnie sat at the small wooden table littered with delicious food, half-listening to Damon defending his pancakes to Cami while she vehemently sided with Bonnie's ruling, a sense of unease fell over the witch. It had started off as a thought, a quick fluttering in the corner of her mind's eye, before fading to the recesses of her attention. Now, it had built until it had formed a single face, impressed in the colours behind her lids.
Klaus Mikaelson, smiling.
A/N: I wanted to post this as soon as I could, so very little editing took place. Actually, none. Dang.
Yes, there is a connection between Klaus and Bonnie, and yes it has everything to do with witch bloodlines, and yes I'll be diving into all of that in the upcoming chapters.
The song throughout and chapter title is Afterlife by Nothing But Thieves. Their new album The Broken Machine is so, so glorious. Anyways.
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