This chapter is long, jumps about a bit and feels like a bit of an information dump in places, sorry. Hope you enjoy it none the less!
"So, Professor Saltzman, if I may call you that, given that your academic record is somewhat chequered, I should introduce myself. I am Augustus St. John." The wizened, grey haired man in strange flowing robes had a surprisingly commanding voice for someone so small and hunched over. "I see my acolytes haven't been kind at you. Please forgive their boorish ways."
"Why am I here?" Alaric's patience had worn thin after days locked up in his cell.
"All in good time." Augustus picked up a sheaf of papers. "Let's recap, shall we? You became the custodian of the Armory just over six months ago. On whose authority?
"The place was a wreck, it needed to be secured from vandals and looters."
"So, you just walked in and took charge?"
"Sort of." Alaric mumbled.
"Last time we met, she shot me with a bow and arrow!" Damon looked peevish. He had not been happy when Bonnie had taken Caroline's phone call and was even less pleased that they were now heading to Duke University.
"You probably deserved it." Bonnie didn't know if it was the yoga or the good hard cry, or the fact that she and Damon were on a mission, but she felt invigorated today. "Don't worry, Caroline called ahead. Dr Monroe is expecting us this time."
"The mentee becomes the mentor." Damon murmured. "What? She was Isobel's research assistant and now she's heading up with Alaric's Armory research team. I would say that's a pretty stellar trajectory. I mean what have you done for yourself over the last 8 years?"
Bonnie bristled at the insinuation. "I nearly killed an original hybrid, I died three times in order to bring people back from the dead, I have battled vampires, werewolves, witches, heretics and a siphoning psychopath, and then I took down the devil while simultaneously creating a prison world especially for the aforementioned psychopath. What have you done aside from kill people, drink Bourbon, steal your brother's girlfriend, make a cursory effort to rescue me from the prison world and then kill a bunch more people with Sybil?"
"Yes, both you and I have done all those things, but that wasn't my question. What have you done for yourself?" Damon was trying to prove a point, but he asked gently.
"I managed to graduate high school while I was dead and I completed my degree, admittedly without enjoying the full college experience. Oh, and I snagged you as my best friend."
Damon waited for her to mention Enzo or their trip to Paris or maybe even Jeremy, but no. It made him feel a little lightheaded. "Well, Bon, tonight we are going to do whatever you want - frat parties, beer pong, limbo dancing. It's yours for the taking, let's give you that full college experience."
Bonnie smiled at him, a little wistfully. "I got a place at Duke, did you know that? Decent scholarship too." From the surprised look on his face, he obviously didn't. "Whitmore was Caroline and Elena's dream, not mine."
"Bon."
"It's okay, Damon. I mean, how does a ghost take up a place at college?" She shrugged. "I accepted my fate." She replied lightly. "Let's go see Dr Munroe and find out what we can."
"So, you're saying that you and Dr Munroe got consent from a highly medicated delusional young woman to exploit her birth right? That hardly seems… ethical."
Alaric shifted uncomfortably under Augustus' steely gaze. "Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that. Ms St. John was just pleased to have a caretaker in place." Liar, he mentally chastised himself, her words to him had been "Take it, nothing good comes from that place. I wash my hands of it."
"That's as maybe, but Ms St. John is sadly no longer with us, so whatever consent you had..." Holding his palm upwards, a puff of smoke burst from his open hand. "Now hand over the key."
Alaric would have given them up in a heartbeat, only he didn't have them. "There is no key. The Amory is locked down by magic."
"I know that." Augustus snapped, the pleasant mask slipping for a second. "I was talking metaphorically. Which Bennett witch is responsible this? I thought we had them all accounted for."
Alaric tried to ignore the sinister tone. "Bonnie Bennett."
"I refuse to believe you. Bonnie Bennett is dead."
"Well, she did die and come back to life and lost her magic and found it again, so I can see why you might be confused."
"Well, this is…" Augustus searched around for the right word. "Aggravating."
"What's all this got to do with you anyway?"
"That, Professor Saltzman, is for me to know. You not so much. Escort him back to the cells."
"Looking at this," Stefan pulled over a large yellowed sheet of parchment. "Cross referencing with this," He grabbed a second sheet. "And tabulating with this, it would appear that the St. John family have a long and volatile history dating back to the crusades. Their main legacy seems to be the foundation of various hospitals despite the infighting, backstabbing and a whole heap of fighting over inheritance. Only, I think they used their hospitals as a cover for magical experimentation."
"Well, yes, we know that." Caroline looked annoyed, that her husband was stating the obvious.
Stefan, used to her impatience, smiled lovingly. "Where it gets interesting is here, with Enzo's father, Bartholomew St. John, founding the Armory. This letter is all about his express wish of keeping the family's collection of magical artefacts safe and 'away from those who would use them for evil'. Yet, not long after his brother, Dalton St. John is in charge and trying to crack open the vault. Now where it gets really interesting is here." He pulled out the genealogy he and Damon had worked on previously. "Bartholomew and Dalton are here and their names are written in black ink, only there is another brother, Augustus. I couldn't see this before when Damon sent me the images, but his name is written in dark purple."
As Dorian leant over to see what Stefan was talking about, Caroline huffed: so far, so boring. She was about to order the two men back to work, when Dorian spoke up. "Purple, the colour of magic."
"Yep." Stefan replied.
Vanessa Monroe was objectively clever, beautifully dressed, perfectly coiffured and absolutely gorgeous. She remembered Damon and seemed surprisingly pleased to see him and concerned that Alaric was missing.
"How did you two come to be working together?"
"We kept in touch after Isobel died. He just wanted her work to mean something, I suppose and I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I got lucky." She looked away guiltily. "When he came to me looking for help with his research project, I said yes, even if the circumstances weren't entirely above board. Mind you, the St. John family aren't exactly a bunch of saints either."
Damon saw Bonnie about to take umbrage with that so he slipped into Salvatore charm mode. "Well, none of us are saints, but you're here talking to me." He replied with a flirty smile. "What could be so bad about them?"
She shot him a seductive smile back. "Some girls love a bad boy, Damon, but these guys are something else. Pretty much every magical article in the Armory has been misappropriated, seized or downright stolen from their original owners under the guise of trying to protect the world from magic. They trade on their non-supernatural status."
"Well that would make sense, wouldn't it?" Damon replied, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "Letting the muggles keep the dangerous stuff."
"Trust a guy who fought for the confederates to see it that way!" Bonnie snorted, discomforted by the idea that Enzo had been mixed up in all this, even as a double agent.
"Except they are hardly neutral, they experiment on supernatural beings and use magic to benefit them when they can. Over the years, they have had various witches in their pay, ostentatiously for protection, but I'm not so sure. They recruit widely within the supernatural community. It's a shady old business." She addressed her comments to Damon, flicking her hair as she spoke.
"The entire family are dead, so could there be enemies that have taken Alaric?" Bonnie interrupted, a touch jealous the flirting that was going on in front of her.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. The St. John family has plenty of branches that have been cut out or disowned over the years. I would start within before looking outwards." Vanessa smiled, sagely.
Damon was frustrated as kicked off his shoes and plonked himself down on the hotel bed that Caroline had been in charge of booking to his exacting standards – 5 stars with a restaurant run by a top chef, a selection of high end, top shelf alcohol and no yoga. Despite his moaning, this morning's class had been not completely awful; he had learnt just how flexible Bonnie was and it seemed to lift her spirits. Although, the meeting with Dr Munroe seemed to have pushed her back into silence and she obviously hadn't enjoyed his fake charm offensive. Not that it had got them anywhere, another 'more questions than answers' kind of a day. Bonnie was now in the hotel gym and without her to talk to, the boredom was overwhelming. He picked up his phone and considered calling Stefan, but he couldn't be bothered listening to his chirpy updates about his perfect life as a doting husband and stepfather. For an uncharitable moment, Damon wondered exactly how much his brother actually wanted Alaric back. Signing into the hotel WIFI, he decided to keep his promise to Bonnie and search out a true college experience to make up for the disappointment of the day.
Vanessa Munroe's words had struck a chord with Bonnie. Sure, she was aggravated with Damon and his stupid flirting and the weird-assed pang of jealousy it seemed to raise in her, but the visit had sparked a flicker of an idea. She needed to think and pounding the treadmill was helping her clear her frazzled mind. From that clarity, the memory she had tried to access hit her like a juggernaut. Bounding up the hotel stairs two at a time, she burst into her and Damon's suite. "If Dr Munroe is right, I have an idea on how to locate Alaric."
Damon was just glad to hear Bonnie talk to him. "That's great. Maybe you can explain over shots tonight. You and I are going to a frat party."
It was Caroline's turn to pick up the twins from nursery that evening, so Stefan was still at the Armory, casually avoiding Dorian. His human brain had been pushed to the limits, so he took himself off to the museum room to unwind. The original glass display cases were shattered and the priceless magical talismans could be easily accessed. Subconsciously, he was drawn to a case in the corner containing a mask. Without having seen it before, he recognised it as belonging to Silas. Tracing his fingers across the mask, he felt a tingle, a connection dating back two millennia, but also a chill. Stefan felt uncomfortable in this place, maybe he wasn't used to the magical energy that surged and crackled around him, maybe the Armory was awash with bad karma, maybe he just needed a good night's sleep. He rubbed the back of his neck, deciding there and then to head home to Caroline and an early night.
"Been taking a turn around the museum?"
Stefan looked up, surprised to see Dorian there. "Yeah." He replied. "There's some interesting stuff. More interesting than all the documents, that's for sure." He gestured to the mask. "I mean this is 2000 years old, it's crazy." He didn't tell him that the mask was made for a distant, psychotic, witch ancestor who looked exactly like him.
Maybe be Dorian didn't get out much, but he seemed to brighten at the subject. "Did Alaric not tell you about the secret room in the vault?"
"No." Stefan replied, an uneasy feeling sweeping over him.
"Well, you're in for a treat if you think this stuff is cool."
It took some persuading to get Stefan to don a blindfold and ear defenders, but within moments, he was gazing around the treasures of the vault. The air hummed and crackled with the same magical power as the museum, but it was much, much stronger down here. It made him feel anxious, the palpable danger of having so many potential weapons in one room. Who else knew about this?
Dorian followed him into the chamber. Even though, he had seen it before, he was agog with the sight of the numerous artefacts, but, as Stefan quickly realised, oblivious to their magical powers. Excited, Dorian ran his fingers over a decorative gold cup, opening his mouth to debate its origins. Sparks flew, a magical jolt sending him flying across the vault, knocking him out cold.
Stefan could only look on, horrified. He tried to rouse the prone figure, but it was fruitless. Panicking, he adjusted his sensory deprivation gear and grabbed Dorian under the armpits, took a deep calming breath, cleared his mind and dragged the intern unceremoniously out of the vault. Normally, the first thing he would trying was his blood, but that wouldn't work so he carried Dorian out to his car. Tearing towards the boarding house, he prayed quietly that no cop would stop him and that the quoted top speed of the Maserati wasn't a made-up marketing gimmick.
Damon was beginning to regret taking Bonnie to a frat party, particularly one where they were dressed in their high thread count hotel bed sheets masquerading as togas. Of course, Bonnie was the centre of attention, as she danced to the appalling music they were playing, swigging margaritas from red solo cup, a huge smile on her face. She giggled and flirted while he skulked in a corner, glad she was enjoying herself, but pissed that her attention wasn't on him. So, when she initiated a tipsy game of spin the bottle, but he couldn't say that he wasn't a tiny bit excited at the prospect, despite the raucous cheer that went up from the frat boys. Leading the games, her first spin had her landing on the second best looking guy in the room, an olive skinned, perfectly toned jock who reminded him of Tyler. The punch in the gut he felt was part guilt, part jealousy as Bonnie softly pressed her lips against his, before pulling away, batting those long eyelashes of hers at him. The guy looked completely stunned.
A couple of annoying blondes took a spin and shrieked with delight or horror, it was difficult to tell which, before puckering up. Next, an attractive, shapely brunette took her turn, the bottle landing on Bonnie. Damon fully expected Bonnie to demure, to offer up her cheek for a casual peck. He was mistaken - his friend giggled and crawled towards the girl, whose hand threaded through Bonnie's hair as their lips met. The kiss deepened inviting howls and wolf whistles from the onlookers. Damon's jealously hit a new all-time high as he grabbed the bottle ready to take his turn.
A breathless, trembling Stefan lifted Dorian's dead weight through the mansion door. Unable to carry him further, he placed Dorian as carefully as he could on the hall floor and hollered for Caroline, not caring, for once, about waking the girls.
She was there in a flash. "Stefan, what's going on?"
"Please just give him your blood."
She quickly squeezed a few drops into his open mouth. Despite it slipping down his throat, it made no difference to his rigid posture or his level of consciousness. "It's not working." She whispered. "What happened?"
"Magic." Stefan replied miserably. "It always leads to trouble."
Caroline was right, Bonnie really shouldn't drink tequila. It made her disinhibited before sending her into a spiral of outlandish behaviour. Spin the bottle, however, when you could magically fix the outcome was fun, not crazy, right? So far, Bonnie's recipients had been cute, but the reason for her starting this game had finally come to fruition. Damon's jealousy has been obvious and it made her feel a touch giddy. He looked particularly fine tonight in his improvised toga, his blue eyes bright and dancing, he looked almost regal. He set the bottle to spin as the gaggle of blondes eagerly awaited its destination. Bonnie concentrated as it stopped, pointing at her. She gave him a small come-hither smile.
Damon's eyebrows shot skywards in a Stefan-like manner, but it didn't stop him manning up and closing the gap between the two of them. He pressed his lips to her cheek close to her ear. "This is a bad idea, Bon." He whispered so only she could hear. His actions garnered him a series of boos from the crowd. "What?" He glared around the circle.
"Come on, Damon. You can do better than that." Bonnie's liquid courage fortified her.
"Remember, when you hate me tomorrow, that you asked for this." He growled and with a tenderness that she didn't realise he possessed, he kissed her. Bonnie had imagined kissing Damon, but this was something else. Even through the mind fog of Tequila, this felt right, spine tingling. Everything about him was softer and warmer than she had expected. Her hands went to the nape of his neck, running through the blunt hairs, one of his hands moved slowly up her bare arm, while the other stroked her cheek. The noise in the room now barely a murmur to them, the world slipped away and just the two of them remained.
Until Damon's phone emitted a shrill tune.
Barbie Girl by Aqua
Caroline was calling him. Things were obviously bad, really bad.
"Why is Bonnie not answering her phone?"
"Hello to you too, Care Bear."
"Damon, I swear to God, if you don't put her on right now."
"You'll what? Nag me to death? Set Stefan onto to me?"
"For fuck's sake, Damon." His brother's voice echoed in the back ground. "Dorian's had an accident, he's barely alive and we need Bonnie."
Damon handed his phone to his friend and a frantic Caroline described as best she could what had gone down.
"Put Stefan on." Bonnie commanded. Damon's ears pricked up, she ignored him. "Look at his fingers - what do you see?"
Over speaker phone, Stefan reported that the tips of Dorian's fingers on his right hand were glowing green.
"I think this is a stunning spell, he'll need help to come around. Caroline? Go to my room and get my grimoire, my Grams' one." She glanced around at Damon who was studiously pretending not to listen. Fuck it, Dorian's life was in the balance; Stefan's secret was coming out and the brothers would have to work it out later. "Okay, this is kind of advanced magic. What have you mastered so far?"
"The fire spell and some basic levitation." He said, trying to sound optimistic.
Bonnie grimaced, Stefan was a total beginner, but at this point, he was Dorian's only hope. "Clear your mind." She heard him sigh, obviously doubting himself. "Take his right hand and press his fingertips into your palm. You can do this." She affirmed.
"I've got the grimoire. Which page do we need?" Caroline was back.
"About a third of the way in, the one with the lightning bolt in the top right corner."
"Got it." The blonde replied, using vampire speed to flick through.
"There's a Latin incantation, but, Caroline, you need to write it out backwards for him to reverse the spell."
"I don't need..."
"He can do that in his head." The Salvatore brothers said at the same time. Bonnie turned to Damon, who shrugged his shoulders. "Take a deep breath and recite the words. Make sure you're connected both physically and mentally." Over the phone, she heard Stefan start the spell, the words sounding doubly odd as his voice wobbled slightly.
You could hear a pin drop.
"He's not coming around." Caroline's stressed voice broke the silence.
"Stefan." Bonnie got his attention. "Say it twice more." Stefan spoke again, this time more firmly and with greater feeling.
The seconds ticked by, nothing happened. The four of them held their collective breaths.
Caroline gasped. "Oh my God. I think he did it. Dorian's waking up!"
"Okay. He's going to feel pretty bad, so look after him tonight."
"Got it, rest and soup." Caroline replied, relief flooding her voice. In the background, Damon groaned at the thought of Caroline's horrible soup. "Thank you, Bon, you're amazing."
"This one's on your husband. Well done, Stefan." She cracked a smile of relief, that Dorian was okay. "We'll talk tomorrow."
"Stefan Antonio Salvatore!" Damon had to get the last word in. "I have questions for you, young man, don't think you've got away with this."
"Thanks again, Bonnie. Night, dad." His brother replied, cheekily, before hanging up on him.
Damon held his phone in his hands, staring at it for a few seconds. Crisis averted and now feeling much more sober, Bonnie glanced at her best friend, the feelings of that kiss cascading over her. She had kind of hoped that it might stem her curiosity, that it would be an unmitigated disaster and they would now be laughing it off over shots, but no. It had been wonderful and frankly she just wanted to do it again and again until she collapsed in a heap of feels.
What was wrong with her?
"Look, about Stefan..."
"I don't want to talk about my brother. He and I have 150 years of lies and secrets behind us. If the two of you thought whatever is going on should be kept from me, I trust that you did it for a good reason." He looked at her, really looked at her, daring her to try and squirm her way out of this. "What I do want to talk about is that kiss."
Bonnie felt her cheeks burn. He wanted to talk, what the hell could she say? That kissing him was everything she had ever wanted and more. That for those few moments all the insane shit was had been through had fallen away and she had felt like the naive teenager she had been before the Salvatores breezed into town and left a trail of destruction in their wake.
"So you do hate me then?" He continued. "I mean I thought I might have made it through until tomorrow morning before the loathing kicked in. Can't say I'm not used to it."
"I don't hate you, Damon. It was my fault too."
"So, you just want to forget that it happened?"
"Yeah, that would be great." The coward's way out, Bonnie, she chastised. The glimmer of the relief she felt was short-lived.
"Sorry Little Bird, no can do. Because I don't regret it, not for a moment and you shouldn't either." He leant towards her putting his hands on her hips so she couldn't pull away. He continued softly, his voice gentle with concern. "But I also know you're panicking like crazy at the moment and no matter what people think of me, I can't be an asshole with you. It's too much too soon, I get it. I'm not going to put pressure you." She didn't look horrified, in fact she looked thoughtful which he took as a good sign. "Do you to go back to the party, have a few more margaritas and dance the night away as best friends?" He smiled, as the tension in her shoulders eased, glad to see her starting to relax.
"Maybe there's a third way. How about pyjamas, popcorn and The Bodyguard?"
"You know what, Witchy. That might just be the best suggestion yet." He offered her his arm, like the courtly, nineteenth century gentleman he had been raised to be and escorted her back to their hotel.
AN: Bamon! They give me so many feels. I recently watched the deleted scenes from S8 and to no one's surprise, the majority of them feature Bonnie. I might try and include some of these into this fic because Bonnie deserves better. I plan to open the next chapter with Steroline so fret not.