A/N: Sorry about the delay. This chapter is the beginning of a marked departure from the show. Enjoy.

Crows

Bonnie remained awake while the entire house slept. Elena hung partially off the bed, most of the comforter wrapped around her. The door to the hall was open, as well as the connecting doors to Jeremy's room. She heard him toss and turn every so often.

The clock read 2:45 am. Bonnie sat up. Her stomach rumbled. In the midst of Jeremy Watch and burning Damon in effigy, she had forgotten to eat. Bonnie crept downstairs to the kitchen. She snuck a couple of homemade cookies to go along with the sandwich she made and sat in the dark in the dining room.

"Hey, did you make me one of those?"

Jeremy snickered when she jumped and dropped the sandwich. Bonnie glowered at him. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Nah, I've got this crick right here." Jeremy rubbed his neck.

"You died and came back a comedian. Great."

He sat next to her at the table and stole a cookie. "I though we weren't allowed to mention me and death in the same sentence."

Bonnie plucked what was left of the cookie from his hand. "I didn't mention 'He Who Shall Not Be Mentioned'. And stop stealing my food!" Jeremy jerked back as she hit his hand.

"I think you should be nice to me. I'm traumatized."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. Unlike Elena, who had a minor breakdown when Damon proceeded to do the unthinkable, Jeremy seemed a little too...fine. He had been appropriately upset but after a couple of hours it seemed to be for Elena's benefit.

"You're wondering if there's something wrong with me. Okay," Jeremy stood up with her cookie plate. Bonnie blinked.

"Hey, now, get your own."

"I am. I'm just adding your portion to mine."

Bonnie followed him to the kitchen. Seeing him outlined by the refrigerator light sent a chill through her. She cleared her throat. "Wanna see the coolest thing you will see today?"

Before Jeremy could respond the kitchen lights came on as well as all the appliances. The noise caused them both to jump then laugh.

"I'm surprised Jenna hasn't come running in here with her blow torch," Jeremy said a minute later.

Bonnie shook her head, incredulous. "No way."

"I was stoned and tried breaking into the house. Blow torch was on, but it was the blue stuff on her face that freaked me the fuck out."

Bonnie tried not to laugh but out it came. She caught Jeremy staring at her with a soft smile on his face and his eyes bright. Soft smile and bright eyes led to softer smiles and brighter eyes. She remembered then that it was the dead of the night, her tank top left little to the imagination and she wore what Elena classified as a second pair of underwear. And Jeremy...Jeremy was not that scrawny kid who exemplified the typical bratty younger brother.

Jeremy poured himself a glass of milk. "I can't sleep so I thought I'd watch The Weather Channel." He replaced the milk and brought out a carton of sweet tea.

"Peace offering." He handed her a glass of sweet tea. Her favorite drink. Bonnie mulled over what this meant. Surely he wasn't hitting on her. Surely not, no. And if he was, so what? He deserved a free pass, considering what that asshole did to him and his sister.

"Bring the cookies."

"I get half that sandwich."

Bonnie paused. "Deal."

"It's going to be a balmy 72 degrees in Mystic Falls, Bonnie. You know what that means!"

"Only one thing Jeremy—a great day to stake a vampire or two."

They high-fived each other. Jeremy eased back into the couch. Four cookies and a quarter piece of sandwich remained on the plate. Bonnie nibbled on a piece of bread, her head tilted at the screen.

"So."

"So."

Jeremy glanced at her. "Are you really going to bring Damon within an inch of his life?"

"I don't know. Probably not an inch. Maybe a centimeter."

"Oh."

Bonnie tilted her head back to look at him. "Care to share your thoughts?"

"I might still be off due to the whole resurrection thing, but," Jeremy hesitated, "before he snapped my neck, he said something. And I didn't get it immediately-"

"-because you were killed-"

"Yeah, but afterwards, I understood. I understand."

Jeremy fell silent, gluing his eyes to the screen. Bonnie agreed with Jeremy still being out of sorts, but she didn't dismiss the defense of Damon, as cryptic as it was. There had to be a quality Jeremy and Stefan saw in Damon that kept him alive. Bonnie struggled to figure it out. She gave up in the time it took to eat a cookie.

"I'm not Elena, but I view it the way she does-Damon murdered you. You. And we don't even know if he saw the ring. So, we are going to flip out. We are going to hate him. We are going to make his life as uncomfortable as humanly possible because we love you Jeremy. But," Bonnie sighed, "but 'we' does not have to include you."

"So, going back to my original question..."

Bonnie lifted a shoulder. "I don't know."

"He's kinda important and powerful."

"He's an ass."

Jeremy tipped his head in agreement. "You're kinda important and powerful too. That trick with the lights, totally badass."

"Shut up and drink your milk."

Jeremy did as directed.

There was a point. It manifested as well-defined, perfectly spherical dot right at the end of sentence. The point marked the second between inaction and action. Between pathetic desperation and cold blooded spite. And it looked the same no matter how much Damon squinted at it or tried to place it in a different context or view it under the influence of blood, booze, or boobs. Or all three, preferably. No matter what he did or didn't do, he couldn't redraw the point. He had smudged it, erased it, snapped it like he snapped Jeremy's neck.

Fuck the point. He had his moment, completely ruined it, and now he was left to some middling existence whenever the supernatural (i.e. him) wasn't raising hell. He had to get back into the swing of malignancy. He had to find something to do besides think about Katherine rejecting his mushy humanity for Stefan's mushy humanity and then Elena playing up her doppelganger role down to the, "It will always be Stefan," bit.

Of course, Damon was content to let that something find him. And it did.

Caroline a vampire. Stefan and Elena running around like headless chickens. Another Vicki scenario. Perfect.

He stalked the carnival grounds, a stake in his back pocket. Caroline most definitely would kill tonight. All these blood bags walking around. Damon counted seven opportunities in as many minutes to grab and drain. He spotted Matt at a shooting game. Now where would a fresh teenage vampire go on her first night out? Easy pickings.

Damon tailed Matt from ride to stall to ride. On the way to the carousel a boy dumped soda on his black Diesel jeans. It took considerable restraint to not kill. He shoved the kid away and scanned the area. Matt had disappeared.

"Dammit."

The carousel started. Damon sighed, frustrated. He gazed absently at the passing prancing horses and ornate chariots. A laugh broke clear of the noise. He looked up at the same time Bonnie whirred by on the back of bucking stallion, one hand loosely holding onto a golden post. She was smiling and talking with a group of girls. His eyes followed her around and around. On the third rotation Bonnie saw him. The smile died and her eyes shuttered.

They exchanged a look as the carousel came to a stop. Age may have made him crazy, but not rash. He knew shit list when he saw it, and he knew what stewed behind that pretty face. So when he started towards her, it was a definite sign of madness.

"You have a minute to speak, threaten, or amuse yourself. After that, I get to do whatever I want to you."

Bonnie stood off to the side, away from her friends. Damon wiggled his fingers at them and they started grinning and affecting shyness.

"See, that's the kind of greeting I expect. I wonder what they'll do if I raise an eyebrow."

"I know what I'll do. Forty-five seconds."

"You despise me because of the Jeremy situation."

"Only more, if that's possible."

"Yet a month ago I would've been on fire for the sake of existing…oh wait, I was."

"I assume there's a point here. Make it fast—twenty seconds."

Damon waved aside her threat. "Have you seen Caroline?"

"Caroline?" Bonnie's brow wrinkled. "She's still in the hospital. Why would she be here?"

Elena hadn't told her yet. Damon didn't want to spoil the reveal for her, so he merely grinned. "Oh, I thought I saw her running around here, causing trouble."

A petite redhead detached herself from the group. She sent a cautious grin to Damon before tugging on Bonnie's arm. "Bonnie, come on! The line for the tilt-o-whirl is ridiculous."

"Yeah, that line is in-sane, Bonnie. You should listen to…"

"Damon, go home and get drunk."

Bonnie took her friend and rejoined the group. Damon watched them stumble over each other on the way to another ride. He smiled at each and every over-the-shoulder glance. These high school girls got easier and easier as the decades wore on. All the decent girls were either dead, taken, or…the laughter came again. Witches.

Damon turned with a tight draw of his lips and dissolved into the crowd.

All that blood.

Bonnie squeezed soap on to her palms and lathered her arms, scrubbing the dirt from under her nails. The cute guy with the nice smile was buried deep in the forest somewhere between Mystic and North Carolina. She never knew his name. She lost his story. Damon had emptied his pockets and discarded the wallet and keys in a river miles away. Bonnie and Elena stood together by the fresh mound, quiet. Elena had wanted to speak, but owls hushed her. Bonnie thanked the owls.

It was a simple matter of coincidence. She spotted Caroline one minute and the next she was drying her arms after a hard night of burying a body. Bonnie ventured a look at her reflection. The girl there was a stranger, a glamour. Akiri would have been proud to see it. Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. The reversal spell flowed from her mouth. Once. Twice. Thrice. When she looked again, Bonnie Bennett, the high school junior cheerleader from Mystic Falls, Virginia would be in the mirror.

Bonnie opened her eyes. It was Bonnie Bennett the witch who stared back. The mirror shattered.

Damon handed Elena a cup of coffee. She held her face to the steam before taking a drink. He had sweetened it the way she liked, with and added a packet of cream. Suddenly she missed Stefan. He always forgot the cream

Damon rubbed her arm and Elena held back the tears. One thing after another after another. Her plate was in danger of cracking and making a mess all over the place. She couldn't talk about it to Damon. He didn't understand and in a few hours she would remember to hate him. She didn't think Stefan would understand either. He would listen to her, say all the right words with the right amount of softness, but he wouldn't understand. Elena looked to the restroom.

Another five minutes went by. Elena started to get nervous. Damon was on the phone with Stefan. She threw away the coffee cup and went to the restroom. One of the sinks was on. Glass crunched beneath her feet. The steel frame that held the mirror hung off the wall.

"Bonnie?"

Bonnie turned to Elena. She blinked. Elena came closer. She turned off the sink and reached for Bonnie's shoulder. Her skin was hot and her eyes were a glassy green.

"What the hell?"

Damon looked to Bonnie and Elena. "What happened?"

Bonnie covered Elena's hand. "Caroline is dead."

"No, Bonnie. She's alive."

"She died Elena. And a man is dead. Are we going to pretend he didn't exist because we didn't know his name?" Bonnie searched her face. "Do you know his name?"

Tears rolled from her eyes. No, Elena didn't know his name. She began to cry. Bonnie wrapped a burning arm around her friend. The tears refused to come. A white hand from her dreams held them back. Bonnie locked eyes with Damon. Her eyes were as clear as his, as closed off and as alien as his eyes when the switch was flipped.

A vacuum formed the moment Elena exited the car. Damon sent Elena a pleading glare but she ignored him. His neck tingled. Elena and Bonnie exchanged a glance and then Bonnie's eyes found his in the rearview mirror.

The ensuing fifteen minutes were one of the most uncomfortable in his life. He heard her breathing, heard her heart beating, heard her clothes rustle against her skin and the seat when she moved, smelled the dirt on the bottom of her shoes, smelled the trace of perfume and pine and sweat. The sensations were negligible compared to the feel of her eyes on his neck and shoulder. He wanted to brush a hand over the skin, to brush away the buzzing, pricking creature but the creature was in her eyes, and he couldn't reach those.

The air grew humid and heavy. He set the air conditioning to high but if anything it grew steamier. He looked into the rearview mirror and into the same limpid green stare. What a poker face.

Damon pulled to a stop in front of her house. The place was dark and probably empty. Bonnie didn't move. He wanted her to swiftly depart, he wanted it as badly as he wanted to go home and…get drunk. Damon turned off the car and they sat in a silence that had all the volume of confrontation.

"It was you." Bonnie said it so softly he wouldn't have heard it if he was human.

"You have this penchant for blanket statements."

"Okay." Bonnie touched her temple. "It was you who went into my head. You screwed with my memory."

Well. Damon had forgotten about the episode in West Virginia. She could not have blindsided him better if she said she wanted him. They all want him eventually. Something had gone wrong with the dreamwalking, which meant something had gone wrong with him. Christ. It worked on the witch in France in '62. Vampires grew more potent as time wore on, right? Damon suppressed the unfamiliar press of fear. Bonnie was waiting for a denial.

"I did. I incepted you. Or at least tried."

Bonnie shook her head. "Why would you…how could you do that? I don't understand." She looked at him. Her eyes were opaque, unreadable, natural. "Why?"

"Because," Damon sighed. How to explain. It had nothing to do with self-preservation or his pledge of allegiance to Elena. Bonnie was powerful. She was an asset, a great card in a not so stacked deck. It wouldn't do if she got fucked up before the real shit hit the fan. He needed her sharp, willing to do what it took, but not unhinged.

"I wanted to protect you." It was the simplest, most veracious reason that didn't sound like utter bullshit.

A brittle laugh was her response. "Protect me?" Her face went dark. "All you do is harm me. Everyone you protect ends up either hating you or worse off than before. I don't want it."

Damon clenched his jaw. "You don't hate me, Bonnie. And you're alive. How is that worse off than dead?"

The humidity jumped a few dew points. "I don't hate you, Damon. I loathe you. Nothing affects you. The family in the freezer meant nothing to you. Caroline means nothing to you. Burying a man means nothing. Just as well, right? Because you do whatever you want, fuck everyone else."

Bonnie swung the car door open. Cool air rushed in and it fanned the spark of anger at her words. The car shook as the door slammed. That nettled him even further.

The witch was quick. She flew into her house and used her power to shut the door and bar the entrance of any vampire. She stormed into her room. Every candle burst into flame. She scrubbed at her eyes, appalled by the wetness her fingers encountered. She couldn't cry. She couldn't or she might drown.

"Your grandfather was a mere thought when I was watching people blow each other to pieces."

Bonnie turned as Damon materialized out of the shadows near the door. The candles burned brighter. The heat this time was dry and deadly. He saw the blackness creeping into her eyes, the same look from North Carolina, the same look from the rest stop. Bonnie whirled away from him. Her body rocked from breathing so hard.

"I don't care. Get out of my house."

Damon remained motionless. "You're a hurt little girl, Bonnie. And you blame me for every scratch when the truth is, I am not the monster you so fervently wish me to be."

Bonnie turned to him. Ire rolled off her in waves. "Get. Out."

If this conversation took place a week or a day or an hour ago, Damon would have left in a breath. But a moment had descended and he was frozen. Bonnie wasn't Katherine. She wasn't Elena. She was nothing more than an asset. There was no momentous revelation regarding her and yet…Bonnie hated him in a way Elena wasn't capable. Elena had her shadows and Katherine was as deep as a plane of glass, but Bonnie was a virtual mystery, a jumble of nobility and Old Testament justice. And then there was the heat. It simmered beneath their every interaction, it chafed at him but he knew it wouldn't hurt him. He knew the moment he touched her on the stairs in that house.

Damon chose the next few words carefully. "I haven't felt human in a very long time, Bonnie. A very long time." She made a noise but Damon held up a halting hand. "You can light my ass on fire after I get this out, okay?"

Bonnie compressed her mouth into a thin line. Damon took this as leave to continue. "I came home to disrupt my brother's life and release Katherine and in the process I ended up helping to save the very town I hated, coexisting with Stefan, and," Damon paused, "developing feelings for Elena."

"The same feelings that prompted you to kill her brother?" Bonnie cut in.

Damon exhaled sharply. "I haven't given you a reason to trust me. I realize this. That's why I'm disclosing this to you, my burgeoning humanity. It gets me into trouble."

"You are unbelievable."

"You're not getting it."

"Then cut it up in bite-size pieces for me. And do it quickly because—"

Damon stepped close to her. "We're not so different, Bonnie. You're not sure of who you are now that everything has changed, you don't know up from down, left from right, right from wrong and you're afraid of it. I know. I see it."

Bonnie stared straight into his eyes. She saw the truth reflected in blue. The anger dissipated, leaving her with a sick empty feeling. So Damon became human while she turned into the monster. Love and loyalty were that transformative.

Bonnie cast her eyes to the floor, tears boarding on overwhelming. She went to the bed and slid down to the floor. She didn't even know anymore. First day of school started and it all made sense and then a crow nearly ran her and Elena off the road. A crow belonging to Damon. A crow that was Damon. The harbinger of death and woe and doom. Bonnie shut her eyes and saw his hand coming out of the blue tinged darkness. God, she was being haunted by his damn hand.

Damon sat next to her. His arms hung off drawn up knees. Coffee, pine, and expensive cologne displaced the amber scent of the candles. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes.

They stared at the candles along her dresser. The tops of their heads were reflected in the mirror. They sat there together, searching for what was next.

"You owe me," Damon said.

"What?"

"You owe me."

Bonnie frowned. "What do I owe you?"

Damon pointed to his jacket. "You burned one of two vintage leather jackets."

"And?"

"And," Damon rolled his eyes, "and young neophyte, as a peace offering and as a sign of goodwill, you should procure me a replacement. Get in my good graces." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Bonnie peered at him. A lazy grin spread across his face.

"I think you've got it twisted. You should get in my good graces."

"How so?"

Bonnie held up a finger. "You tampered with my mind." She held up another. "You killed Jeremy." A beat. "Did you know he had the ring?"

Damon rolled his shoulders and avoided her eyes. "Yes."

Bonnie held up a third finger. "You killed Jeremy without knowing he had the ring. Just for that I should cremate you."

Damon looked down on her. "You should."

The point. That was the point he had crossed. It circled back and nestled itself between rational behavior and responsibility. The rational thing for a witch to do would be to incinerate a vampire like him, and the responsible thing to do would be to let her. It was a bad thing, wringing the kid's neck, but he had been dropkicked then shitkicked. He was losing ground against an invisible, insidious enemy and it made him incredibly dangerous. She would see that. Out of everyone, she would see it.

Bonnie gazed for a long time. She closed her fingers into a loose fist. It made a soft thump on her thigh. He pictured a little white flag drooping slightly in her hand.

Damon reached out, for what, he didn't know. His hand found her neck. Bonnie visibly stilled. He pressed a thumb on the artery and counted. A steady, strong beat. She had a small neck, slender. Her hair brushed the back of his fingers. His thumb left her pulse and swept up to trace her jaw. She fixed her eye to his. Anyone else would be terrified or turned on or both. With Bonnie, Damon couldn't tell. All he knew was that he was touching her and she watched him with murky eyes.

"You don't hate me Bonnie," Damon confirmed. Bonnie raised her hand to draw his away, but her fingers curled around his wrist and didn't tug, only stayed.

In an alternate reality, where Damon didn't admit to shit until act two and still lived by the ignoble code of heartless vampires, he would cup her face all tender-like and snap her neck. watched him steadily.

"Fuck it," Damon whispered. He caught her mouth with his and she let him. There were no pretenses—this was nowhere near sweet. Their mouths crashed against each other, their lips parted and sucked. There was no air. Damon was fine with that.

Every point of contact was a small brushfire. He broke away from her when he sensed Bonnie struggle for breath. Her heartbeat was all over the place. It made him dizzy. He did that. Bonnie leaned forward into another kiss, this time slow and deep and Damon tasted it—the electricity of now.

His true face emerged. Damon snapped back. Bonnie's eyes turned on like a thousand lamps under a green shade. She reached out to touch his face but he caught her fingers.

"Don't go and ruin a good thing," he said.

The air buzzed with energy. The candles were all but puddles of wax.

"What's there to ruin?" she asked. He let her hand fall.

Damon stared at her for a moment before standing. He rolled a shoulder and the vampire receded. Bonnie wasn't sure what would happen if she moved, if she called out, if she pressed her fingers against her lips so she sat with her hands in her lap and lowered her eyes to his boots.

"There's a cut on your lip," Damon said. Bonnie started. The curtain lapped in the breeze. She saw navy blue sky and a pale moon.

Bonnie darted her tongue along her lower lip. She tasted copper. Her head fell back against the mattress. She still felt him pressing her body into the side of the bed. He had tasted like coffee and mint. His thumb had stroked her throat as he kissed her and her hand had twisted his shirt. His stomach grazed her knuckles. And his face…Bonnie groaned. She capped off the nightmare with a kiss. The shadows on the ceiling stretched to engulf the residual stains of amber light.

She slept and dreamed of black wings beating over her, shielding her from a fire that burned even her.