A/N: In which Bonnie meets the inevitable. I have a confession to make. I'm a pessimist. So bear with me through this period of blue. The sun will come out. Maybe not tomorrow, but it will. Enjoy.

Jeremy, you killjoy.

Jeremy was the one who told her. It wasn't a conscious admission, Bonnie knew. He had become pensive to the point of paranoid. Dr. Fell had prescribed Jeremy propranolol in the week following Alaric's death, but that did little to mitigate his anxiety, especially concerning Elena. Bonnie practiced avoidance that week, studiously timing her comings and goings as to not encounter any member of the group. Perhaps it was the surprise of seeing her that induced the panic attack, or maybe it was the culmination of everything, or maybe the weather was just right.

Bonnie stayed after school to take a test. The teacher raised a brow when she turned it in fifteen minutes later. The quizzical brow disturbed her confidence to the point that she turned on her heel and ran down the hall. She burst into the classroom. Empty.

"Crap on a stick," Bonnie said. Hopefully she didn't do too bad. But maybe Rossetti's model wasn't Lizzie Siddal. Burne-Jones did paint The Beguiling of Merlin, didn't he? And, hot damn, it wasn't Shelley but Keats who wrote "The Eve of St. Agnes". So not one, but two questions down the drain. Bonnie looked up from the dull vinyl floor just in time to collide with Jeremy.

She gripped his forearm as Jeremy grabbed her arm. She tottered, but came to a full stop. Laughing, she sputtered out a greeting before noticing his alarm.

"Jeremy?"

"Bonnie, I'm sorry, I didn't see-are you-how have you-"

"Hey, Jere, it's okay, I wasn't paying attention. You know me," Bonnie eyed him. "Are you okay?" She peered behind him. "Is there something going on?"

"No, no, nothing." Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. "Are you hungry?"

Bonnie wasn't, but Jeremy had her elbow and steered her out the building.

"I guess I am," Bonnie said. Jeremy strapped into the passenger seat. She drove to the Grille only to have Jeremy balk at the idea.

"There's, like, no other restaurant in Mystic Falls where we can go?"

"But you work here. And you get a discount. And I know what I'm getting..." Jeremy shot her a look. "Fine, we can go to that French cafe on Bird."

They sat outside on the terrace. Bonnie skipped the lunch menu and went for the desserts. She ordered a large cup of caramel whipped hot chocolate and a slice of coconut tart, a cherry and pistachio pastry, and chocolate mousse. Jeremy ordered water and a side of pomme frites, on Bonnie's urging.

"Here, you have to try this," Bonnie extended the hot chocolate, "it's so ridiculously good."

Jeremy took a sip, nodded in agreement. He watched the excitement on her face.

"I don't get you," Jeremy said.

Bonnie put down the cherry and pistachio pastry. She brushed flaky crumbs from her lips. "What don't you get?"

"How you can be happy when nothing makes sense anymore. You always seem to bounce back, or just, move on. Nothing seems to stick to you."

Bonnie toyed with her napkin. "It looks that way, but it isn't. I just find things in my day that make it better. Like hot chocolate. Or having lunch with you," she touched his hand. Jeremy stared at her.

Bonnie made a decision. "I've been seeing Damon for awhile. More like a few months." Jeremy's eyes widened as he sat forward. Bonnie hurried on. "I really like him. More than that maybe. He's one the few people that make me genuinely happy, despite all the shit we've been through, and he's put us through. You're the first person I've told."

Bonnie waited. Jeremy shook his head. He looked at the cups and the plates with delicately arranged food. Something passed over his face. Bonnie braced herself for the outburst. It was swift. The entire table crashed to the pavement. Warm liquid splashed her jeans. Jeremy stood over her, his anger so intense she was afraid for a second, then it subsided, and she saw his face go still, and his hands started to shake. He staggered back.

"I..." Jeremy looked at the mess between them. He took off.

As soon as he left the waiter rushed over, asking if she was okay. Bonnie nodded. She handed the man all the money in her purse, apologized, and ran after Jeremy. She didn't go far.

He paced in the alley between a bookstore and an Amscot. Bonnie approached him warily. "Jeremy?"

"I'm sorry. I just lost it. It all crashed down and I didn't know what to do. But he's a fucking bastard."

Bonnie started to weave a spell. "It's okay. You're stressed. We can go back home, talk about it."

"Home?" Jeremy laughed. "Home is a fucking joke. Everyone is dead. Killed. That place is a fucking Halloween stop."

He whirled on her. "Are you really in love with him? Are you really in love? Really?"

Bonnie stared into his brown eyes. "Yes," she said, "I love Damon." As she spoke a warm breeze brushed Jeremy's face. He relaxed for a moment, but his panic was too strong.

"He'll hurt you. I know he will."

"I know it too."

"Then why?"

"Because I love him."

"That's not good enough."

Bonnie put force into her voice. "Jeremy. Come with me now."

He suddenly slumped forward. Bonnie rushed to his side before he fell. She forgot to temper her irritation. A bit more and he would be unconscious. She maneuvered him to the car and into the front seat. She called Matt and told him to meet her at the house. He didn't ask any questions, which spoke to how normal emergency situations had become.

Bonnie pulled up in front of the Gilbert house ten minutes later. She undid her seatbelt, sat with her hands on the steering wheel, thinking. She turned to Jeremy. He stared straight ahead, in a daze.

"Jeremy," Bonnie slipped her hand around his wrist. He closed his eyes.

"I saw that look on your face, back at the restaurant. You were afraid I'd hurt you."

"I know you would never do that."

Jeremy sighed. "Wouldn't I?"

He turned to gaze at her. "You haven't been around lately, and Stefan didn't want you to know. He's a control freak, especially when it comes to Elena," Jeremy inhaled, "and Damon."

The air stilled. The molecules trembled. Bonnie held onto his wrist but didn't feel his flesh. She went rigid. Would he make her ask? She didn't want to. She refused to.

"They went on a killing spree down in Louisiana. It was pretty bad. Twenty people, most of them tourists. Not just drained of blood, but brutalized. Attacked. One of Tyler's hybrid friends called him. Stefan went down there. He had to vervain them, but not before he was almost killed."

Jeremy glanced away. "Your boyfriend and my sister. The Bonnie and Clyde of vampires."

Bonnie leaned back into the seat.

"They've been fucking, Bonnie. Killing. Living up to their nature. And you love him. Isn't that sick?" Bonnie turned her eyes on him. He gave a dry laugh. "I should kill her. I know it. But she's my sister. And your best friend."

He slipped his hand from her grip. She heard the seatbelt click and the door open. Cold air rushed into the car. The door didn't slam. Bonnie kept her face forward. There were tears threatening to come down and her throat itched and a vein in her head throbbed. She felt his contrition, and she hated him for it all the same. The door closed, the car shook.

Bonnie sat behind the wheel. She smoothed her hands over the patent leather. Wasn't there a way to react to news like this? Pick up her phone and tear him a new asshole? Go all Spanish Inquisition on his ass? He'd love that, though. No, not over the phone, too impersonal. Go over there, look him in the face, let him see it, all of it, make him feel like someone shoved a stake two inches from his heart and then...what? Cry? An appalled sob burst from her mouth. She bit it back but her sadness broke through, a deluge of tears and ugliness.

She didn't notice the tapping on the driver's side window until her breathing became slight puffs of warm air. The windows were fogged and it was dusk, almost full blown evening. Bonnie could make out a face and two blue eyes. She lifted a hand to wipe the glass, but all the energy she had left she needed to drive home and take a hot shower and put on soft pajamas and forget for eight hours.

Bonnie left the glass fogged. She drove away and only looked back once. His face was red and black in the rearview mirror.