Raise Your Weapon
"Ripping my heart was so easy, so easy,
Launch your assault now, take it easy,
Raise your weapon, raise your weapon;
One word and it's over.
-Deadmau5
"Bonnie, we're here," Damon said, as he nudged the witch lightly on her shoulder.
Bonnie opened her eyes and looked out the window—it was already night time and the city they were in was definitely not Chattanooga. This city—it was bursting with energy and liveliness as they drove through it. She saw a sign that welcomed her to New Orleans, and she sighed. They finally made it. She studied everything they passed—the buildings were colorful, and the crowds were large as the people walked from bar to bar and the music bumped loudly through the night.
Bourbon Street.
"Have you been here before?" Bonnie asked Damon and he nodded quietly, without saying a word, as he continued driving through until they came across a much quieter, and by the looks of it, affluent residential neighborhood just outside of the town.
The houses they passed were very elevated and quite different than what they looked like in Virginia, but they were beautiful. They were all different shapes and sizes, but she noticed that the lawns were all perfectly landscaped, with beautiful fences, and anything else she could imagine.
He finally pulled into the yard of a gorgeous three-story home that was white and was even bigger than the boarding house back in Virginia.
"Where are we?" she asked as she got out of the car and looked up at the quiet home.
"This is where we're staying," he said as he got out as well, and pulled their bags out of the trunk.
"Damon, this isn't a hotel, this is somebody's house—"
"Bonnie, just trust me, okay?" he asked, shutting the trunk, and bringing the suitcases up the steps with no further explanation.
There were no other cars in the driveway, and Bonnie watched as he slid a key in the lock, and opened the front door and walked in with ease.
Had Damon compelled the human who owned this home to invite him in?
She followed Damon up the corridor, and she was greeted with the astounding beauty and spaciousness of the place that they were now in. There were paintings and sculptures everywhere in the large living room, it was a historic yet modern home.
Damon placed the bags down on the ground, and Bonnie looked at him.
"How did you get into this house?" she asked suspiciously, as he walked over to what looked like an old record system, and he toyed with a bit.
"It's my house, Bonnie," he said, and her mouth dropped.
"Wait, what? How did you… what?" Bonnie sputtered, as Damon put on a Miles Davis record and reached into his liquor shelf for a bottle.
Bonnie stood up and stalked over towards him, and hit his shoulder.
"Ow," he whined, and she glared into his eyes.
"You need to tell me what the hell is going on. Now," she said lowly.
"I don't have to tell you anything," he said starkly, as he walked over to the couch and sat down.
She listened to the faint sound of the trumpet blaring from the record player, and she walked over to the couch and sat down next to him.
"How long are we staying?" she asked.
"As long as it takes," he said as he took back a sip.
She turned and looked at him again, and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Bonnie, I don't know what you want me to say—"
"Just tell me the truth, Damon. Please, after all that I've been through today, knowing something, anything, will help," she said and he sighed.
She was right—he owed it to her to at least be honest about why they were here, and how he knew they should be here. It just made him nervous thinking about it—the sooner he said it out loud, the sooner this all became real, and it wasn't only in his head anymore.
"Do you really wanna know?" he asked and she nodded anxiously as he swirled his drink around, and inhaled a deep breath.
"I've been… having these dreams, Bonnie. More like nightmares, actually. About Stefan, and what he's been up to. I'm not normally one to take these types of things to heart but…"
But?" she asked, waiting for him to continue.
"I—I fight him, a lot, in my dreams, Bonnie. And if it's any indication of the Stefan we're going to encounter, we're in more trouble than we thought. He's stronger, and he's faster, and I just can't keep up with him and…"
"And?" she asked, now sitting on the edge of her seat.
"I wake up with bruises, Bonnie. Bruises, everywhere, and it's freaking me out," Damon said as he now stood, and walked over to the bottle, and refilled his glass cup.
"But that's impossible, isn't it? He's in your head—"
"I don't know what type of kooky shit he and Klaus are up to, but I know Stefan and I know that he's on human blood. He's playing a game," Damon said.
She watched Damon as he drank, and she realized that this was the first time she had seen him so nervous before. He wasn't shaking in fear or anything, but she could sense his anxiousness and vulnerability in the air as they talked. And this wasn't the Damon she was accustomed to—he'd also never admit to feeling this way; he had too much pride.
"How did you know we should be here? You mentioned Louisiana before I even did the spell."
Damon sighed again as he began pacing back and forth, with his raven hair falling limp on his forehead each time he glanced at the ground.
"I have some history in this area… I lived here back when I Stefan and I went our separate ways, years ago," he said, and Bonnie raised an eyebrow.
"All by yourself?" she asked.
"Yeah. I didn't tell him where I had gone, and we didn't see each other for until I came back to Mystic Falls to look for Katherine," Damon explained.
"So what happened next?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Well, Stefan happened. Being the kind and noble brother that he was, he wasn't too fond of the fact that I left him while he was on his Ripper stint. So, long story short, he came to New Orleans during Mardi Gras one year and went on a killing spree," Damon admitted, and Bonnie stared at him with wide eyes.
"And Mardi Gras is—"
"In one week," Damon filled in, and Bonnie sunk into her seat.
"On Bourbon Street?"
"Ding ding ding," Damon said, and Bonnie blinked at him.
Bonnie hands began shaking as she stared at the vampire, and she let out a large exhale that successfully marked how terrified she felt.
"Damon, you do realize that we don't have any idea of how we're going to stop Stefan, let alone Klaus, and now you're telling me that he's going to kill people, probably hundreds of them, in one week?" Bonnie asked, raising her voice. "What if he comes here—"
"About that… we're putting the deed to the house in your name, tomorrow morning," Damon said and her eyes widened. "Bonnie, it's the only way to keep you safe," he added, and she sighed as she stood up.
"This entire operation just went from zero to sixty in five minutes," she said as she grabbed her bags and began to walk away and up the stairs. "I'm gonna find a room and try to figure this out."
She heard Damon walk over to his record player, and turn it up a bit higher as she left.
Now she was panicking—after the entire incident with Hunter, she was sure that her powers were still spotty, and she had no idea how to combat Stefan or Klaus, especially with her grimoire gone. She tried to push these thoughts out of her mind as she observed her new "home."
The house had three floors, and she was now exploring the second one, as she walked around the dim hallways, turning on the lights, and observing the significant things that Damon had left around the house since his last stay.
She walked into a bedroom and flipped on the light—it had beige walls, the dark blue bed sheets, the huge bay windows, golden lamps and wooden floor. She decided that she would stay in this room. She set her bag down on the ground, and walked over to the vanity mirror and sighed at her reflection. She might as well get used to this. She turned around to near the closet, and Damon was standing in front of her, drink in hand.
"Damon! You need to stop doing that!" she shrilled, holding onto her heart as it raced with fright.
"Sorry, it's fun," he admitted with a smile and she rolled her eyes as he sat down on the couch in the corner. "So you like this one, eh?" he asked as she began to unpack her things.
"Yeah, I suppose. Gotta clean these sheets though, they've probably been on the bed forever right?" she asked.
"Nope. I have a house cleaner who maintains the place while I'm gone," he said and she raised an eyebrow.
"You pay people to clean a house you don't live in?" she asked, suddenly realizing how spotless everything was.
"Yeah, you know how it goes. kinda live the life. Well, you know what I mean," he said with a grin, as he sipped on his drink.
"You're ridiculous," she said with a sigh.
"Jealous," he said and she scoffed. "Keep it up, Bennett and I'll just give the deed to Nancy, the housekeeper," he warned and she let out a laugh.
"Not only are you ridiculous, but you are also delusional," she said and he stood up.
"Bonnie, that's no way to talk to your new roommate," he said with a big smirk on his face and she shook her head.
Living with Damon was probably going to be the biggest challenge of this entire operation, yet.
Damon walked into the kitchen the next morning, and opened the refrigerator. He retrieved some blood, poured it into his mug, and sipped slowly as he sat down at the table with the newspaper.
He figured it'd be a good idea to take on Elena's task and search the paper for clues about murders that might have been related to the younger Salvatore.
Elena.
He hadn't spoken to her since the day that he left with Bonnie, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. The way that things had been left on between them was less than stellar, and although he felt guilty for snapping at her. He felt guiltier for avoiding her. He felt the guiltiest for even have shared a kiss with her.
Elena's approval—it was the one thing that he always wanted. But now that he had finally gotten it when he was on his deathbed, he loathed the situation. The fact that Stefan had left her all alone with the intentions of saving his life annoyed and conflicted him.
It annoyed him because it was the "typical Stefan thing to do." He was so selfless that he was willing to leave the woman that he loved to save Damon's life. It annoyed him that Stefan could have made things easier on himself if he just listened to his request, and let him die.
No, Stefan never made it easy.
Stefan's absence also conflicted him in more ways than one. He was having a harder time than he had imagined living without him. He had gone many years in the past without seeing him and it didn't faze him. But now knowing that Stefan was out there wreaking havoc all in the name of Damon? Well that tore him apart. He loved his brother—no matter how flawed he was at showing it sometimes—and he never wanted things to end this way.
It also conflicted him because of Elena. Now that Stefan was gone, here was his chance, his golden opportunity to show her who he really was, and who he could be.
But he couldn't. He couldn't go there with Stefan's girl—no matter how badly he wanted to. He wanted—he needed—to put his own thoughts aside and alleviate this situation before things were too late.
But how? How was he going to save Stefan, help Bonnie realize her powers, resist Elena, and defeat Klaus?
Bonnie walked into the kitchen quietly, smelling of fresh citrus body wash, and vanilla shampoo. She was clad in her dark denim shorts, and a sky blue t-shirt, with her hair in a loose ponytail.
"Is there anything to eat in this place?" she asked as she neared a cabinet, and he looked up from the paper.
"Well, aside from the B Positive in the fridge… I went shopping this morning and grabbed you a few things from the market," Damon said lightly.
She turned and looked at him with a surprised look on her face.
"You did that?" she asked skeptically.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" he asked, folding his arms.
"I… never pictured you as the domestic type," she said, opening up the cupboard, and retrieving a fresh box of cereal that he bought.
"Well, if you must know Bonnie, I am in no way, shape or form 'domestic,' however, if you starve to death—you won't be of any use to me," he said with a grin and she rolled her eyes as she grabbed the milk and poured it into her bowl.
"So charming, how do the ladies resist that," she said sarcastically and he shrugged with a grin.
Bonnie made her way over to the table seconds later, and began eating quietly.
"How are you feeling?" he finally asked, and she looked up from her bowl and stared into his eyes.
Her green eyes looked a little uncertain, but he could tell that she was in a much better place than she had been yesterday.
"I'm good, Damon," she finally answered, and he nodded.
"Well that's good to hear, because I didn't bring you on this trip for shits and giggles. I'm gonna need your help with Stefan and Klaus," he said and she nodded.
"I know. And I'm going to work on my powers all day today—see what I can come up with," she said and Damon nodded softly.
Just then, Damon's phone started ringing.
He reached over to the middle of the table and glanced at the display screen.
He sighed as he stared at the screen for a second, and finally pressed the accept button as he stood up and walked around the room.
"Elena," he said into the receiver, and Bonnie watched as he listened intently.
"Damon, hey, I've been trying to reach you," she said trying to sound cheery, but he didn't buy it.
"Oh were you? I didn't notice," he said sarcastically.
"I just wanted to see if you and Bonnie were okay, and check how everything's going," she said quietly.
"We haven't found Stefan yet, if that's what you're wondering," he said bluntly, and he heard her sigh on the other end.
"Damon, why do you have to do that? I'm just calling because I—"
"Because you what, Elena? Huh? Because you want to pretend like you care about how I'm doing, when you really just wanna know if your boyfriend is coming back home?" he asked a bit angrily.
"Where is all of this coming from Damon? What did I do that was so wrong that you're treating me like I'm not even a friend to you? Did something happen between you and Bonnie?" she asked, and he let out a laugh.
"Are you serious Elena? Don't project your guilty feelings onto me—I didn't force you to kiss me," he said and Bonnie instantly perched up and looked at Damon.
"You know what, Damon? It is really low of you to use what happened between us against me. I should've known that the minute I did it you would be there to throw it in my face. It's just how you are—you're never gonna change," she fumed.
"Well, I guess you have me all figured out then, Elena," he said angrily, before he hung up the phone.
"Damon—"Bonnie started, and in a split second, he threw the phone at a glass shelf in the kitchen, sending it shattering to the ground.
She hopped up immediately and stood in front of him with her hands on his shoulders as his eyes flashed to a deep red.
"Damon, calm down," she said soothingly.
His huffed loudly, and his eyes regained their natural blue color.
"Bonnie, I—"he began, and before he could finish, the doorbell rang.
She continued staring into his deep blue eyes and she could tell that he was masking a world of pain behind them.
"You should go get that, it's for the deed to the house," he said and she nodded quietly. "I'll be back in an hour," he said swiftly, as he made his way to the exit out the kitchen door.
"Okay," Bonnie replied as he shut the door behind him.
Damon walked around the French Quarter for about an hour, still riled up from his fight with Elena. She wanted him to be something that he wasn't, and he couldn't take it any longer.
As always, Elena was looking for reasons to blame everyone but herself for the misfortunes in her life and he couldn't stand it anymore. He needed to break free of her—he needed to let it go.
He walked into an empty bar that just so happened to be open at noon , ordered a shot of Jameson, and whatever beer was on tap. He downed the liquor, and then about half of his beer as his chaser. The bartender, a tall thin girl with long brown hair and blue eyes served him and then lingered in his area as he drank.
He slammed his shot glass on the counter, and she walked back over, ready to re-fill.
"Rough morning?" she asked, in that husky yet seductive type of voice that Damon loved.
He turned to her and her light blue eyes met his. She was dressed in short cut shorts, and a plaid midriff shirt that exposed her toned stomach. Her long brown curls were slightly messy, her lips were full and red; she looked like the type of girl who rode motorcycles and changed tires.
Not only was she beautiful, but her blood smelled delicious.
"I wouldn't want to ruin your morning with the details, honey," he said as he took back another shot and she grinned at him.
"How old are you?" she asked, leaving over the counter and showing off her assets in a very obvious way.
Damon focused in on her eyes.
"I'm a vampire. Don't tell and don't be afraid," he said with a wink, and she nodded happily as soon as she snapped out of the trance.
"Do you wanna bite me?" she asked bluntly.
"As a matter of fact," he said, baring his fangs and the brunette motioned for him to follow her to the back.
He followed her orders, and once in the back room, she pushed him up against the wall, and ran her hands up his shirt.
"Does it hurt?" she purred into his ear, and he laughed.
"If you're doing it right."
She pulled her brown locks away from her shoulder and pushed her body against his.
"One taste," she whispered softly, and his eyes glowered with hunger.
Even though he had blood this morning, he hadn't really fed on a live human in a while and he was itching for a fix. Damon ran his tongue over his teeth and slammed the thin girl against the wall and stared deep into her eyes.
He nestled his mouth against her neck, and she moaned as he ran his tongue across her skin.
"Just bite her," he thought.
He opened his mouth and placed his teeth against her skin, and he felt her muscles tighten as he gripped onto her.
He couldn't do this.
"What would Bonnie think?" his self-conscious blurted, and he instantly felt guilty and confused.
Why did he care what Bonnie thought?
"Is everything okay?" she asked gently, and he released his hold on her, and began to walk away.
"I have to go," Damon said quickly, as he briskly walked out.
"Where have you been?" Bonnie asked when she walked to the door and Damon stood outside.
He told her he would be gone for an hour—but 6 hours later, here he was, waiting for her to invite him into her new home.
"I got distracted," he said with a bit of a slur, and the smell of alcohol instantly hit her.
"Are you drunk?" she asked and he squinted as he smiled shyly.
"Not only are you a which, but you're a psychic too," he said.
Bonnie shook her head, and made a move to lock the door and he stopped her.
"Bonnie, invite me in. I'll talk. I promise," he pleaded.
She was mad that he left her here with no indication of where he was or what he was doing for the past few hours. Granted it gave her some time to relax and she was mildly successful in the powers department, she was still pissed. But he was clearly wasted, and she knew that this had something to do with Elena—it always did.
"Fine, Damon. Please, come in," she gestured and the vampire graciously stumbled in as Bonnie shut the door behind him.
He dragged himself over to the couch and laid down, staring straight up at the high ceiling.
Bonnie just stood there a few feet away.
"I don't know what to do anymore," he said slowly, and she looked at him.
"About Elena?"
He sat up and Bonnie could see that he was a wreck; his hair had gotten pretty messy, his shirt was half-unbuttoned, and his eyes might have been bloodshot from tears.
"I try so hard to be the person that she wants me to be and it's like I'm not good enough—I will never be Stefan. I don't want to be Stefan—I want to be who I am," he said softly, and Bonnie sighed.
"You have every right to be who you are, Damon."
"You mind telling Elena that? She told me that she liked who I was—she said it, but she didn't mean it. She never means anything," he said with growing irritation in his voice, and Bonnie finally sat down next to him. "She kissed me—when Stefan was out getting the cure and she thought I was going to die. And it kills me—it's literally killing me," he confessed, his voice building up with a mixture of hurt and resentment.
"Maybe she's afraid, Damon—"
"Afraid of what, Bonnie? Afraid Stefan will hate her? He's always going to forgive her, it's me that he won't and she knows it. Am I crazy, Bonnie? Am I the bad guy in all of this?" he asked.
"You're not crazy and you're not bad, Damon. I'm not gonna lie, it's surprising to hear about all of this from you and not Elena… she hasn't said a word about you to me or Caroline… but I understand where you're coming from," Bonnie relented and he sighed.
"What do I do, Bonnie? She—she's got this hold on me and I can't seem to let it go," he expressed with a break in his voice and she felt her heart crumble a little bit with his.
Bonnie inhaled—what could she say? Should she defend Elena? Should she tell Damon the cold, hard truth? It was a tough call.
"I think… I think you should let her go, Damon. It'll be for the best. You don't want to be in the middle of this when and if Stefan comes back," she said honestly and he nodded.
He furiously placed his hands on his face and ran his fingers through his hair as he stood up.
"Yeah—you're right," he breathed, and she nodded quietly as he began to walk away.
"Where are you going?" she asked and he stopped.
"I'm gonna call it a night," Damon said, before walking up the steps.
Bonnie watched as he disappeared up the flight of stairs, and seconds later, she heard the sound of the bedroom door slam.