Disclaimer: Well, fuck, no, I don't own this at all.
Uhm, yeah, Mouse555 knows how this chapter could have turned out, so god, thank her for cleaning up my mess : D
Enjoy!
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Look After You
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"Well, Bonnie..." Damon looked at her for a long time and ran a hand through his hair, "Why don't you go back to it? You loved it, you miss it..." He smiled at her, "You could go professional – you've got the time, got the funds..."
They were discussing Bonnie's long-abandoned pastime of horse riding. She had started learning when she was eight, and now, she was thinking that it could be a good thing to take back up – something to fill the days as she went along.
"Yeah," She nodded at her seat across the table from him but let out a long sigh, "But you have to consider the fact that the last time I rode a horse, I was in the D-d-d-" And just like that, she was a shaking, terrified wreck, with her hand barely clutching onto the silverware between her fingers, and her lips parted in a frozen 'd'.
"You were where, Bonnie?" Her father had caught the tail end of the conversation, and Damon couldn't see a way to end this without somebody ending up in a panic attack. There was a short pause, and Bonnie drew in a long breath, her acting skills far more advanced than they had been before her last Theatre class in high school. She squeezed Damon's hand and started to speak again.
"I-in the darkest place I'd been for a while," She finished shakily, offering a small, apologetic kind of smile to Damon, and an 'I'd-prefer-you-dropped-it-now' kind of face to her father. "I just... don't know if I'd want to go back there..."
"I think you should try it, at least, B." Damon said supportively, reaching his hand across the table and running his fingers across the back of hers. "You could regret it if you don't..."
She let out an exaggerated sigh and Damon laughed as he brushed his fingers across hers.
"I guess..." She glanced up at him with a somewhat demon smirk, "But I don't want to go alone..."
"Maybe Damon would go with you?" Henry spoke before Damon could even begin to think of a comeback. "It would be a good experience, wouldn't it?" He stared hard at the boy who so desperately wanted to be with his daughter, and waited for the hint to sink in.
Damon didn't quite realise the weight of Henry McCullough's stare. As a vampire, he was used to the idea that he didn't have to do what he didn't want to do, and could simply compel his way out of it. Unfortunately, as a human, he had no option other than to stare back at Bonnie's father with an open mouth and wide, confused eyes. Bonnie fleetingly wondered if Damon had been a Salmon in a former life, for he was doing an incredible impression of one.
"Yeah, uhm, sure." For he didn't know what else to say.
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That was how Damon Salvatore ended up standing by the Ferrari, his face pale white, as he watched Bonnie pull on a pair of wellington boots and practically wade into the stable with the biggest black horse in existence. 'Dobber' the nameplate beside the stable door read, but Damon wasn't feeling that kind of jovial nickname at all.
More like fucking 'Danger'. Bonnie could get hurt, getting on those horses, and he didn't want that to happen. Yet she was just waltzing in there, holding out a carrot and a cleaning brush and getting stuck in to muck out the four legged fiends.
Strangely enough, Damon didn't like horses.
"D, come on!" She appeared in the stable doorway, pulling her hair back into a low ponytail and smiling at him, "I don't bite!"
"But they do!" He gestured at the horse, and was met with a loud harrumph as it stepped heavily on the hay around its hooves. "Fuck, Cara, look at it, it doesn't like me!"
"Look, D," Bonnie held out her hand to him, and without question, Damon took it, "It can't hurt you." He raised an eyebrow at her, "These horses have been here since I was eight. These horses know me, and, you know, they trust me." She looked up at him with wide, soulful eyes, and pouted at him, "Don't you trust me?"
"Bon-nie..." Damon couldn't help but whine, because she knew he trusted her with his life, he was just totally afraid of the big teeth, the hard heels and the strangely bony knees of the creature in front of him. "I just-" He pulled back from her and shrugged, blushing as he found another weakness in his human armour. "I'm scared." He finally acquiesced.
"Don't be," She whispered, before pulling him down to her level with a little tug, and pressed their noses together in what could have been misconstrued as a threatening way. Instead, she was trying her hardest to push a memory into his mind, so that he could see all of this through her eyes.
It was hard to watch the images, but he did.
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She was eight and her mother was standing at the doorway to the stable, smiling widely as Bonnie held up the brush.
"Like this, mom?" She made a soft pass over the back of the horse, and it whinnied lightly. Her mother's smile was wide, and Bonnie's ended up just as bright and happy.
"Here, baby," The older woman handed a carrot to her little girl, and showed her exactly how to feed the horse. Soon Bonnie and her mother were giggling, and laughing, and then Bonnie was older, and she was standing alone. The stable was quiet, aside from the quiet harrumphing of the horse.
"I'm sorry about your mom, B." She wheeled around, her hand flying to her chest in a panic, to see Matt standing in the stableway instead of her mother. "Look, I know you probably don't... but would you like someone to ride with?" He jerked his head softly at the horse, and she cracked a small smile.
"You don't think I'll be dull? Or Depressing?" She sounded a little bit hurt – more miffed than anything – because the words clearly belonged to Elena, or Meredith, or maybe even Caroline.
"No, Bonnie," He smiled back at her, attempting to dispel the tenseness that currently owned the atmosphere, "I think you need something to do, and teaching me to ride would be better than anything." The last three words were emphasised with a girly squeal, and she couldn't help but grin.
"I hate you, Matt Honeybutt." She let out a quiet laugh at her slip, but he never questioned her words. There was a long pause, before she held out her and smiled at him, "Okay, come here." And she was just as quickly showing him how to feed the animal, just like her mother had done.
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"Bonnie?" He pressed quietly, when she refused to open her eyes and look at him, "Cara-"
"Don't say anything," She whispered, tears still shining in her eyes, "Just do something." There was a short pause, where neither of them moved, "Please, Damon." And, at the whimper of his name, she almost collapsed through sheer need and fear. She needed him to make it okay. She needed him.
And then, when she had half given up hope, his lips were on hers. He was gentle, because he was always gentle when he started kissing Bonnie, and then they were all over each other. His hands knotted into her hair, and he was brushing his lips all over her face.
"Cara, listen to me," Each word was punctuated with a kiss, "I will try anything new, for you," His fingers pressed lightly against the side of her cheeks, "I'm scared of these..." Eyeing the closest horse suspiciously, he considered the word he could use to carry on, "creatures," He pressed his hands against her shoulders this time, and she bowed her head, "But I'll do it. For you." Her eyes lit up immediately, and she grinned wildly as she flung her arms around him, kissing his cheeks all over.
"You don't know how much this means to me."
"I'm starting to understand." He whispered back, running his fingers through the ends of her now-dishevelled ponytail. It didn't hurt that this was just another thing he could get over on Matt, as well.
"Come on; let's get you on that horse." Ah, yes, Damon thought, the fun part.
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"Her name is what?" Damon looked over at Bonnie, who was holding a beautiful grey by the reins, and clucking her tongue as she pressed her hand to the creature's nose.
"Her name is Buffy." Oh, the fucking irony. "And she's good for beginners, Mr Salvatore." The woman passed the reins over to a petrified Damon, and told him to walk the horse for a little while.
"C'mon... uh, Buffy," Damon lightly lifted his hand and brushed the softest of hands across the animal's nose, "Just an hour and a half, and then we'll never have to see each other again."
He tugged at the reins, and the horse pulled back just as furiously. Damon wasn't even on the horse... and she was almost violently unresponsive.
"Bonnie," He tried to call her attention to his predicament, but she was totally distracted by the horse she was holding onto. Within five minutes, Bonnie had mounted her horse-beast, and was quietly trotting around the paddock, reacquainting herself with the art of riding.
"Mr Salvatore, the faster you get on the horse, the faster we can get you riding."
"I'm trying!" He yelped, as Buffy gave a particularly strong yank backwards with her head. Damon went flying three steps forward and groaned as he landed on his knees. "Jesus, am I trying."
"Come on, Damon." Bonnie trotted up to him, leaning down and holding out her hand, in a thoroughly oblivious fashion, "Have a go, for me?" Her hand caught his and their fingers locked quickly, she squeezed tightly before he let go.
"Of course B." You pussy whipped asshole. You're not even on the horse yet, and you're planning on riding off into the sunset with her. Dude, this horse is going to kill you! Even his inner monologue was starting to sound like Mutt. Fucking hell.
"Asshole." He hissed under his breath, only to be startled when the same voice answered from behind him.
"I'm standing right here." And Damon whirled around only to be met with Matt Honeycutt, wearing riding boots and holding a helmet.
"The hell are you doing here?"
"Bonnie called. She said you might need a hand." Damon looked over at his girlfriend – a term which genuinely didn't feel right, there needed to be something stronger there – who was currently not wearing a helmet, her hair blown all over the place by the wind created by her horse cantering around the near-empty paddock.
She was stunning, her eyes wide open, caught by the light of the early morning and the way that the sun's rays were all over her face, brightening her skin and sending highlights all the way through her hair. Her back was straight, and she looked perfectly in control, with fingers tight around the reins, and chest jutting just a little way out. Damon couldn't help but feel as though he was drooling, his mouth dropped open, his eyes slightly unfocussed as he watched his girl become more and more beautiful as he stared. Oblivious to the rest of the world, he vaguely wondered whether he would be able to ride a horse while he had a hard-on like the wood he was currently sporting. Bonnie was a fucking Amazon woman, even though she was tiny. He wanted her, so badly and yet... she seemed to be just out of his reach.
"I don't get it, Mutt," Damon looked across at the fair-haired boy, fighting to pull himself away from her image, "She can ride a fucking horse, like there's no tomorrow... but she won't even ride me."
Okay, where had that come from?
"Yeah, Damon, erm, TMI, dude." Matt ducked his head and felt the heat rising in his face. "Seriously. Take that shit up with her."
There was silence for a long moment, and Damon felt his face flush dark, his problem quickly deflating.
"Boys, on the horses. Now." The voice made them both jump out of their skins, and Damon glanced at the riding instructor. She looked stern, and then, as she looked at Bonnie, her face softened. "Who's got her?" They would be riding in pairs, because Bonnie didn't need tuition, and Matt probably only needed some reminders. Damon, on the other hand... incapable was not the word.
"I have, Ma'am." Matt nodded, lightly tugging on the reins of his horse, before finding the mounting block and almost swinging into the saddle like a freaking monkey.
Damon was suddenly petrified.
"B!" Bonnie's head snapped around, and she was suddenly looking straight at the pair. She smiled at Damon, then, as she passed him, moving toward Matt, she halted the horse and grabbed his shoulder again.
"I love you, Damon. You'll be good at this, I know it." And he relaxed. Even if it was infinitesimally, he relaxed. It was enough to get him onto the horse...
Well, it was enough for him to get one foot into the stirrups.
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There was a noise like a car backfiring from the parking lot, and even Damon cringed. It was loud, short and enough to startle Buffy into rearing back and throwing Damon to the ground. It would have been easy, if his foot had left the stirrup then, if he had simply fallen and the horse had run amok in the paddock, but no.
His foot was caught, his hand was tangled in the reins... and for a minute, he thought he was going to die. The world was running slow, speeding fast... it was unbelievable. He was terrified.
The pain of being dragged behind a horse was immense. Damon had hit his head on the buckle of the saddle as he had gone down, and he was sure he could taste blood. His hand was going to have deep weals in it, but he had no clue. He could barely remember his name.
And Bonnie had to witness it. He felt sick, and he didn't want her to see this, because he was sure that he was going to get kicked, or stomped on, or something, and he didn't want her to see that. He wanted to protect her from all that – the hurt and the pain, and the blood and the gore that had gone before. And here he was, bringing more and more of it on. He was a horrible person.
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When he was asked about it later, Matt would say that he had never, ever seen anything more magical than those thirty seconds. As though she had sensed something, Bonnie pulled her horse out of the canter, and turned at breakneck speed.
"Jesus Christ!" She screamed at the sight of Damon, just about able to see the blood on his face, the way his foot was at an odd angle, and suddenly she was flying straight towards him, as though the horse was galloping on a cloud. "Matt, get off your horse." She called back at him, "Just in case!"
And she was in front of him, halfway across the paddock when she executed the perfect dismount, midair, mid sprint, and then she was running. The horse, Buffy, was coming straight at her, and through all of the dust, the hooves and the feet, Damon could see it.
"Bonnie! Cara, get out of the fucking way!" But she wasn't going to. No way was she going to leave him on his own.
That was the moment that, for the first time in his life, Damon Salvatore passed out cold.
She concentrated as hard as she could, eyes closed, emanating kindness, calmness, and, above all, that she did not fear the eighteen-hand horse that was cantering toward her. Three feet from her face, the horse's hooves stopped dead in the ground, and slowly, Bonnie took a step forward, daring to touch the animal's nose.
"Ms McCullough! Back away!" But Bonnie was never going to listen. Her hand came up, brushing the velvet feel of the horse's neck, reaching for its reins and taking Damon's hand in hers. She pulled away with blood on her fingers, but she did not care. Her head was focussed on taking his pain, and suddenly Matt was next to her, calm enough to set the horse still, running his hand across the other side of the horse's neck.
"Matt, he's out cold." And the reality of the situation hit her. Damon's blood was all over her fingers, and she didn't know how she would help him. "Matt!" And her voice lost all power. "Matt, please help!" But even Matt couldn't look at the wreck that was Damon. There seemed to be blood everywhere, and he didn't like blood.
Slowly, and biting back tears, Bonnie started to unwind the reins from his hands. For a minute, she knew how he had felt, first having to whip Elena, when they had stepped into the Dark Dimension the first time – then, when he had had to whip Bonnie the second time around. When she had screamed because his concentration had wavered, and the blood that flowed was tinted with sheer agony.
It had been left to Stefan to brush his tongue up the length of Bonnie's spine and heal her wounds, and Damon had left the room in an absolute fury. He had told her, one night, when she was staring at the ceiling, and he was brushing his fingers up her stomach, making her gasp and moan, that it was pure jealousy. Nothing more, nothing less.
"Damon?" She ran her fingers across the back of his hand and smiled when she saw him twitch. He was responsive; all she needed to know he was alright. "Baby, please open your eyes."
"Bonnie, can you get his foot out of the stirrup?" She looked across at Matt, who was quietly trying to pull the horse away, "I'm gonna get Ellen to take her," Matt smiled at her again, trying to calm her nerves as fast as possible. "And then we can get him home, and make sure he's okay, yeah?"
"Uhhuh." Bonnie nodded feverishly, and moved forward quickly to get Damon out of the way of the horse. His body, a dead weight in her arms, slumped to the floor, and she tried to sit him up, but he was having none of it. "Damon, wake up, please."
"I don't wanna." He muttered, blinking hard at the blood which had run into his eyes, "B? Is that you?" He sounded as though he could barely believe it – as though it was a miracle that she was standing in front of him, "No! Stupid Buffy-the-damn-horse-people-slayer." And Bonnie was giggling.
"There is so much wrong with you, you know." Matt had heard Damon speak as he crossed behind them, picking up the helmet that had fallen from Damon's head and shaking his own.
"Shut up!" Bonnie hissed through somewhat hysterical laughter, "Damon, baby, what do you mean?"
"Aren't I dead?" He managed to sway the words out of his mouth, though his tongue felt a little bit thick, "If I'm not, I need a freakin' hospital." There was a small moment where he ran his tongue all through his mouth, and let out a cough, "Although on the plus side, all of my teeth are still there."
"Okay, Damon," Matt slid his arm around his quasi-friend, "I'm gonna put you in my car, and Bonnie's gonna clean you up," He smiled at Bonnie, who let out a squeak of agreement, stunned into silence by the sheer sight of this. She was half drawn to panicking, and half drawn to sprinting into action, genuinely, physically aching at the sight of somebody who she knew she loved, in so much pain. "And we'll get you checked out, okay?"
"Where is she? Cara mia?" His hand reached out behind him as Bonnie followed Matt and the semi-coherent Damon across the paddock. He groaned and whispered against Matt's shoulder, "Where's my Bonnie, Mutt?"
"I'm here, Baby." Her fingers locked with his as his hand got more frantic, and Matt was sure that he heard Damon's sigh of relief as his shoulders sagged. "We've got you."
And just as soon as they were at the truck, Bonnie was wiping away the blood from his hand, where the reins had split his skin, and then tackling the cut on his forehead.
"You really did a number on me, Damon." She said, then, projecting her words to him instead of speaking aloud, I thought you were dead.
"Don't be silly, cara. Not me."
"Yes, you." She pressed her lips to the skin of his temple and he drew away, wincing in pain. "Did I hurt you?" He nodded pathetically, feeling like a small child, "Don't worry," She smiled, "Matt's going to get his drive on, and we'll be seeing a doctor as soon as possible, okay?" She pulled away to get some more cotton wool – they had borrowed it from the riding school, and he whimpered quietly. "D?"
"Don't leave me." Because he didn't like Doctors. He didn't like hospitals and he was afraid of being left alone. "Please, cara." And he started talking in Italian. She caught a couple of words – her name, Matt's name, a mention of his head hurting... but the rest seemed like a jumble that she couldn't quite understand.
"I'm not going anywhere," She whispered, and damnit, she didn't.
They were at the hospital for four hours; Matt had work, so he left, after offering to call Elena or Stefan, or someone to sit with Bonnie as she waited with Damon in the Emergency Room. He was lucid enough, but the pounding headache that was overtaking his general demeanour meant that he was sour and upset with everything, even the open window was pissing him off.
"Mr Salvatore?" There was a long silence, and he looked up at the doctor slowly, "Come this way."
Reluctantly, he followed the woman, holding his hand out for Bonnie to take as he started off toward the examining room.
Half an hour later, he was dosed up on God-only-knew what kind of painkiller, having been cleared of concussion and his hand bandaged up all across his palm.
"You, Bonnie-Cara-Pretty thing, are sooo lovely." She could barely hold in her laughter as she stood at the curb, watching him talk to the trees as she called Matt for a lift. "What?" And now he was pouting, "I'm serious, you little thing. Who else would want to love me?"
"What?" Her head snapped up as he let out a sigh and blinked wildly, shaking his head to attempt to clear the fog, but only succeeding in sending the world spinning.
"I'm serious. I'm an asshole, incapable of leading a decent, independent life. I don't get the point of a cash register, for god's sake... Why the hell would you want to love me?" And he looked close to tears, "Katherine didn't."
"Don't make me hit you." She whispered to the non-entity which was Katherine, then, as she stepped closer to sit on the wall beside him, "Damon, look at me," He complied with a sad smile, "I think that the meds she gave you are making you crazy." She ran her fingers across his cheeks, "She was a fool. Katherine never appreciated you for the man you are and that makes her a fool in my eyes. She didn't see you in the right light, Damon; she was too busy stealing the focus."
Damon let out a low whimper and opened his arms, begging for some kind of contact. She shifted so that her arms were around his neck, and she was wrapped up in him in moments.
"So, Bonnie," And now he was slurring, because Bonnie was sure that the Doctor had slipped him a sedative too, "Why do you love me?"
She smiled, without even needing to consider the answer. She could talk for hours about his flaws, and how each of them had made his perfections more obvious, or his kindness, or his beauty, his grace, his genuine caring nature, or that even when everybody else wanted to perceive him as an asshole, she could see that he was trying. That he wanted to be a part of something, instead of looking in... She could chat about all of that, but she wouldn't. What she knew about how she felt toward him could be summed up in just a few words.
"I love you, Damon," And at this point, his head was on her shoulder, and she could feel that he was fighting to stay awake, "Because that's what I was meant to do."
He let out a very short, very sharp nod, and there was a low groan as his shoulders slumped and he started to fall sideways. Bonnie knew what was going to happen, because he was heavier than she was, and he was stronger than she was, and she couldn't hold up a dead weight like Damon.
They both went careering to the floor, and Bonnie couldn't help but feel as though the moment had been entirely ruined.
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Bonnie put Damon to bed as soon as Matt got them back to the McCullough household. Her father was relaxing in an armchair, probably reading Finnegan's Wake again, because that was all he ever seemed to do when he was at home for a weekend.
"Bonnie?" Henry looked up quickly as his daughter came back into the living room, "How did he end up in the hospital?" Her father clearly didn't know Damon well enough, because anyone with even the faintest knowledge of Damon Salvatore knew that injury and general calamity followed him everywhere.
She simply sighed and shrugged, deciding not to argue that specific point.
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A/N: Review, if you please?
Thankyou
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