A/N: Hello lovelies. Here is the latest. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

There was blood splatter on his hand that was kind of in the shape of a maple leaf. Constantly he rubbed his palms together; the roughened texture made more real by the fact dried blood, Bonnie's blood covered his hands. Stefan kept his eyes fixed on the linoleum floor not wanting to look up at the harsh florescent lighting overhead. His stomach was in knots, sweated beaded along his hairline and coated his upper lip. Every time he inhaled he smelled nothing save the metallic odor of blood. It seemed to be everywhere he looked.

He couldn't get that image out of his mind. It was burned. Branded into his memory of seeing Bonnie fall on top of that glass, of seeing that translucent shard protruding from her thigh when she rolled over. It was his fault they were here, in this predicament, and he wished he could take back the last thirty-two hours. Stefan had never wanted a do-over so badly in his life.

Inwardly, Stefan listened to himself rail at his brother and Bonnie, and naturally his sadistic mind would replay his parting words to them both:

"I hope you fuckin' die. Both of you."

In present time, Stefan's eyelids sealed themselves shut like elevator doors as another bout of tears threaten to burst like bubbles overflowing out of a cauldron.

He hadn't meant that. He didn't mean it. As pissed off as he was, Stefan knew he'd hate himself forever if anything were to happen to Damon or Bonnie, and as it stood he was learning a very harsh lesson that the words he spoke could cause life or death to occur.

So he closed off those thoughts and switched over to better memories. He was back in France with Bonnie, the two of them laughing after having broken the bed in her first apartment. Then he saw her standing on the sidelines drowning out the voices of the other spectators cheering him on while he played soccer, football, or rugby. As was custom, he'd wink at her, Bonnie would blow him a kiss, and any time one of the teams took a timeout, he'd jog over to her to get a drink of water, and nibble her lips, which earned him several insulting nicknames from his teammates.

Next they were standing outside of their house, his hands over her eyes before lowering them so that Bonnie could see where they would be spending the next fifteen to twenty years living as man and wife before moving to Florida to retire.

In the early days of their marriage they would sit in front of the stone fireplace, sharing a bottle of wine, discussing when they would start having kids and what schools they would attend, and trying to guess at what careers and professions their children would have. Stefan recalled telling Bonnie that he wanted five sons. Bonnie balked at the idea of being the only female in the household and said she wanted three girls. Stefan didn't like the idea of having to shoot someone's son if any fool young boy broke one of his little girls' hearts. So they came to a compromise: they'd simply have one of each and call it a day.

Since Bonnie had been on birth control religiously since she was eighteen, it wasn't as easy to get pregnant as they had hoped. But sex between them never became a job, a means to get pregnant. Bonnie never summoned him to bed for the expressed purpose of milking him of his sperm, nor did she trivialize their couplings by thanking him for making his weekly deposit. All of their encounters had been filled with passion, and equal giving and taking of ones souls. They made love with their eyes open, touched one another without inhibitions. Bonnie had ensnared him for life. Forever, she had said.

Well, forever turned out to be two years of dating and two years of marriage.

And for twenty-four months he remembered nothing of their love, nothing of the connection they shared, or the promises they made to one another. Stefan had her picture, stared at her image everyday praying for something to trigger his memory of the girl with the Mona Lisa smile and the haunting green eyes. For two years nothing came except dreams that he wasn't sure if he could believe they were real memories having manifested themselves deep from within his subconscious.

Stefan had grown angry and frustrated with the holes, the gaps in his memory and tried to fill them with new ones. He saw himself back in the Trueblood household with Elan and Tehya learning his basic skills all over again, enshrining himself in a world he never would have known existed if pity hadn't been taken out on him. He passed his days by learning all he could about the world that was around him, and gave up trying to figure out his place outside of his surrogate home.

And just as he was adjusting to his new life, coming into his own, that's when he came across someone who managed to spark an interest in him. An interest a man would have in a woman he wanted to get to know better.

Leah Clearwater.

Stefan hadn't allowed himself to think of her since coming back to Bonnie, back to Mystic Falls. Nothing more than platonic friendship had taken place between himself and Leah. She was very much aware that there was a woman out there that loved him, and though Stefan had tried to convince Leah that he couldn't possibly love a woman he couldn't remember, Leah said that one day his memories would come back and he'd have to leave. They had no real future together because his path had already been mapped out, and there was no changing it.

Against his better judgment, Stefan began to compare Leah and Bonnie. They were fundamentally different on the surface but deep down they were nearly interchangeable. Where Leah had a patient temperament, Bonnie could be fire and ice all in one. Leah was calm like water flowing in a stream, took her time doing things whereas Bonnie could be a roaring ocean or a gentle sea making snap decisions. In the few occasions Stefan had touched Leah, either to help her down a flight of steps or what have you, he got a rush, a kick to his heart, yet it paled in comparison to when he touched Bonnie. It was like he became ravenous for her; it was unnatural how much he craved feeling her soft skin. In their past, Stefan had wasted entire weekends doing nothing more than massaging Bonnie's skin.

Grabbing tufts of his hair, Stefan was tempted to yank out patches of it. Was it deplorable and distasteful on his part to be thinking of Leah when Bonnie was in surgery; and not only that but comparing them as if they were pros and cons of some grand decision he had to make? Hadn't he already made his decision?

Whore.

That's what he had called Bonnie. Bile and other acidic gases in his stomach gurgled and rushed up his esophagus leaving a rancid and hot taste in the back of his mouth. Stefan leaned back in the chair until his head thudded against the wall. He shifted his weight in the hard plastic chair, and then stared straight ahead. He was barely aware of his surroundings in the ER waiting room. There were at least three people hacking up their lungs, while others sat reading magazines, or moaned.

His throat was dry and he could certainly benefit from a cup of water, but he didn't want to move from this spot just in case Bonnie's operating doctor came out to speak with him.

He closed his eyes as flashes from him bursting inside of Mystic Falls Hospital Center cradling Bonnie in his arms thrust themselves to the forefront of his thoughts. He had walked right up to the patient registration kiosk and said:

"Help me! She's bleeding! She's losing so much blood!"

The attendant picked up the phone and immediately paged for a gurney and the proper personnel. What happened next was a blur to Stefan. He just remembered placing Bonnie on the gurney even though she was clinging on to his hand for dear life.

"You'll be all right," he tried to reassure her, but the fear etched on her face made Stefan believe he was having a heart attack. In fact none of what had transpired felt real. He was starring in a poorly scripted movie that had one of two outcomes: either all would be forgiven or someone in this fucked up triangle was going to be dead.

Several times Stefan warred with himself to call Damon and let him know what happened. But he didn't want to talk to him. Besides, what could he really do? He was in New York.

Right?

"Stefan?"

Bolting to his feet, heart pounding in his chest and throat, Stefan faced the direction he heard his name being called.

His pulse semi returned to normal when he saw it was Elena dressed in her white lab coat holding a silver clipboard in her hand.

Licking his dry lips, Stefan stood awkwardly as Elena drew closer to him, her arched eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and concern. It was hard meeting her whiskey-colored eyes because he knew she was taking a tour of his person, probably beginning with the maroon and rust stains on his shirt and jeans, his bloodied hands, before climbing upward to get a good look at the shiner to his left eye, and bruise to his jaw.

"What happened?" Elena asked as she stood less than a foot away from Stefan.

"Bonnie is in surgery."

Elena's eyes widened as her jaw slackened. She gently took Stefan by the elbow and drew him to a corner of the waiting room.

"She's in surgery? Were you guys in a car accident?"

Shaking his head, Stefan folded his arms over his chest. What he should have been doing instead of taking a trip down memory lane was getting his story straight. He knew he was bound to be questioned by Bonnie's doctor on what happened, how did she come about her injury. If they suspected spousal or domestic abuse, the police would be called to start a preliminary investigation. He'd have to explain his bruises, and the implications alone that he and Bonnie had gotten into a physical altercation could spell jail time for him especially if they went digging into his past and saw he had had run-ins with the law before.

Yet everyone's main objective for the time being was Bonnie and getting her stabilized.

"If you weren't in a car accident…what happened?"

"I got into a fight with Damon," that much was the truth, although the fight had happened hours ago.

"Over what?" Elena asked incredulously.

"Doesn't matter," Stefan deflected.

"So you and Damon got into a fight? Wait a minute. Aren't you guys supposed to be in New York for his birthday?"

"Look, Elena," Stefan cut her off because he felt his ire about the whole situation returning. "I don't want to discuss this right now. My main concern is Bonnie."

Elena shut her mouth but she wasn't finished. Not by a long shot. Things weren't adding up and she would find out one way or another on what really took place. Nevertheless, she'd let it go for now because she needed to know how serious Bonnie was hurt and how long she had been in surgery for.

"Have you spoken with her doctor?" Elena slapped on her professional coat of armor.

"No, no one outside of the admissions nurse has spoken to me since Bonnie was taken off to surgery about an hour and forty-five minutes ago."

"All right, just have a seat. I'll see if I can find out anything."

"Thank you, Elena."

"Don't thank me just yet. I fully expect you or Bonnie to tell me what's going on."

Stefan said nothing, but swallowed reflexively and watched as Elena walked off to go on an information gathering crusade.

Damon tried to keep himself busy. Unfortunately it wasn't working. There was a college football game playing in the background, but he wasn't paying it a lick of attention. Constantly he would eye his cell phone waiting for the stupid piece of technology to ring. He needed to know what was going on with Bonnie and Stefan. The silence, the waiting, the being in the dark was driving him stir-crazy. Already twice he had to talk himself out of picking up his keys and storming back over to their place.

He told himself to relax. Bonnie would call as soon as she had the opportunity to do so. Damon had to remind himself that Bonnie wasn't finicky. If she told you she would do something, you had faith she would come through. It was who she was. She hated disappointing anyone, and it was something he might have used to his advantage a few times in their history; but naturally Bonnie would have a field day in reading him his Miranda Rights and telling him about himself.

Just the thought alone was enough to eek a smirk out of him before it dissolved. Damon might have been the master of his own ship, or at the very least he liked to believe he pulled the strings, yet the anxiety and nervousness he was feeling was nearly foreign to him. Damon wasn't a worrier. He never had any reason to be. When everyone around him pegged him to be a failure all he really had to do was either prove them right or wrong. Damon worked his best under pressure and he loved it when people underestimated him. He was the certifiable underdog, something he used to shun back when he was a hothead and was reactionary to nearly everything. But now it was a title he relished because in some instances the underdog did come out on top.

But he wasn't exactly standing on confidence because he didn't know where he stood with Bonnie or Stefan, and he wasn't sure if they were deciding to work things out, which meant cutting him loose, leaving him behind.

That thought alone made Damon stand in front of the toilet waiting for vomit to come.

So Damon did what he did best. He began to plan. If Bonnie and Stefan really were finished, Damon, if he could convince Bonnie, would arrange for them to leave the country at least for a month or so. Damon had racked up plenty of vacation hours, and Bonnie, well she could practice counseling anywhere. Finding another position wouldn't be all that difficult. They would take things slow; there wouldn't be any need to rush into anything because the both of them would need to adjust to living life without Stefan. Again. He could make her happy. They had been happy.

In his own time, Damon would work on repairing the damage to his relationship with Stefan. Right now it went without saying Stefan wouldn't be receptive to a single thing to come out of Damon's mouth. So he would have to bide his time.

Hence his obstacle really lied with Bonnie. If she and Stefan were done, that would give him time to make his case. But if she and Stefan were going to work things out…

Damon hadn't figured out that part yet. Logically he knew he'd have no choice but to let her go, step out of the way, and return to New York empty-handed and broken-hearted. Would not be the first time.

Damon pulled his lips back from his teeth, picked up the first thing his hand landed on and he threw it. The sound of broken glass reminded him so much of his life. Things could appear strong and stable on the outside, but on the inside it was just as fragile and breakable.

Before he could pick up another pricey artifact, the shrill noise of his cell phone interrupted his redecorating.

Rushing over to answer it, Damon frowned because he didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

"Damon? It's Elena."

One dark eyebrow rose in the air. Damon had no idea why Elena was calling him, and he also wasn't aware that she had had his number to begin with. "Hey, Elena…now isn't such a good time."

"Bonnie is in the hospital. She's having surgery."

Damon froze. Then he blinked. His lips moved but no sound followed.

"What do you mean she's in the hospital and that she's having surgery? What the hell is going on?"

Elena sighed. "That's what I'm trying to find out. I saw Stefan sitting in the ER waiting room, covered in blood with a bruised face. I thought he and Bonnie had gotten into a car accident or something, but he said there was no car accident. I just spoke with one of Bonnie's nurses. Apparently she landed on glass and it penetrated her upper left thigh."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Damon felt the ground give way under his feet. He took a seat on the arm of his leather sectional. Damon's throat was closing in on itself because in his mind's eye he pictured Stefan covered from head to toe in Bonnie's blood.

What the actual fuck happened?

"Has Stefan said anything?" Damon finally came back on the line.

"No. But he did say that you two got into a fight. Did Bonnie try to break you guys up and she got hurt in the process?"

"We did get into a fight, and yeah, Bonnie broke it up, but…"

"What in the world were you two fighting over?" Elena interrupted his explanation to which Damon was glad.

"Money," was the first thing to spill from his lips.

Elena's dry laughter was evidence enough she didn't buy his bullshit. "Try again."

"Look, it's a long story with not enough time to tell, but…I'm on my way to the hospital."

There was a pregnant pause. "What do you mean 'on my way to the hospital'? Aren't you supposed to be in New York?"

"Thanks for letting me know about Bonnie, Elena," Damon hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, coat, and booked it out of his condo.

The scene that greeted Damon was a lot more subdued than Hollywood's depiction of emergency rooms. He saw some patients shuffling around, holding on to their IV stands, while doctors and nurses stood in clusters of two or four going over patient's charts, or talking about something trivial that happened on the news.

Strolling up to the information desk, the attendant who was flipping through the pages of an office supply catalogue pushed it away as soon as her eyes landed on Damon.

"Hi, can you tell me which room Bonnie Salvatore is in? I'm…her brother-in-law."

The receptionist smiled probably thanking her lucky stars that Damon wasn't there to see his wife. She pecked away at the keys as her sea-green eyes squinted at the screen.

"Oh, she hasn't been admitted to a room just yet. She's still in surgery."

Damon flicked his wrist to check the time. How long had she been in surgery? "Can you tell me how long she's been in surgery?"

"Her procedure began at three fifteen."

It was nearing five o'clock.

"Damon?"

Turning at the sound of Elena's voice, he tossed a 'thank you' over his shoulder towards the receptionist and met Elena half way.

"Follow me," Elena gasped a little when she saw Damon's face, but shook it off and led the way to where Stefan was waiting. Stepping aside she kept her eyes on Damon as he bypassed those who were sitting and waiting to hear news from their loved one's physicians.

Stefan was sitting as far away from everyone as he possibly could. Damon faltered a bit when he got a good look at his brother. The bottom half of Stefan's shirt was saturated in dried blood, and if it weren't for his dark blue denim jeans, he would have messed the additional blood stains. Stefan's hands up to his elbows it seemed were speckled with Bonnie's blood.

How much did she lose? How badly was she hurt? What the hell did Stefan do?

It took a minute or so for Stefan to realize that the dark-haired guy standing across the room from him with a slightly horrified expression on his face was in fact Damon. Then that horrified expression turned into barely controlled rage. Rising to his full height, Stefan crossed over the room, nearly collided his shoulder with Damon's as he walked into the hall.

Damon followed and then stood opposite of Stefan his lips pursed tightly and his glacial eyes blazing.

"I'm guessing Elena told you?" Stefan speculated.

"She did. What happened?"

"What are you even doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I drove Bonnie back to Mystic Falls. To you," Damon hurled his words like a poisoned tipped dagger. "What the fuck did you do to her? Did you put your hands on her? That's what you do now? You beat up women?" Damon sneered through clenched teeth.

A spark lit up Stefan's dull bluish-gray orbs; his nostrils flared. He was tempted to plant his meaty fist in Damon's cheek, but there was no need to draw even more attention to himself. Instead he bit the inside of his cheek, and took a deep breath.

"I didn't touch her!" Stefan whispered defensively. "We were…we were arguing. She grabbed my suitcase and I yanked it away and she fell. She landed on a shard of glass from a picture frame I broke. I didn't lay a hand on her."

In Damon's mind it didn't matter if Stefan hadn't laid a pinky on her. The fact of the matter was, Stefan flexed his muscle knowing he was a hundred times stronger than Bonnie, and as a result she was now in surgery.

Tempering his anger took a while, but Damon managed. "Do you know how serious her injury is?"

The dull and pained looked returned to Stefan's face. "No. No one has come to speak with me. I-I…this is my fault. I'm the reason she's here."

Damon wasn't going to do a thing to quell Stefan's notorious guilt.

The two brothers stood looking at everything but each other until they spotted someone in green scrubs headed their way. Stefan pushed away from the wall.

"Mr. Salvatore?" a cultured voice asked.

"Yes," Stefan replied.

The doctor extended an olive toned hand towards Stefan, and briefly flicked her nearly black eyes at Damon. "I'm Dr. Monica Patel. Your wife is out of surgery and she's in recovery. The glass did knick her femur, but there was no nerve damage which was our primary concern. There was a lot of internal bleeding and Misses Salvatore had to undergo a transfusion. But she's stable and if all continues to go well she can be released as early as tomorrow afternoon, mindful an infection doesn't set in."

Both Stefan and Damon let out audible sighs of relief. Stefan grabbed the doctor's hand and shook it vigorously. "Thank you so much, Dr. Patel."

The doctor smiled. "I'll have a nurse come and escort you to her room once she's out of recovery," then her face became serious. "Do you mind if I have a word with Mr. Salvatore alone?" she directed at Damon.

"Sure, he's all yours," Damon got missing.

Stefan started to feel like a student having to stay after school to serve detention. He knew what the doctor wanted to question him about.

"You should know why I wanted to speak with you privately," Dr. Patel said. Stefan nodded. "As hospital procedure states, when something looks like a domestic dispute, an investigation has to take place."

Stefan could hear the doctor speaking but all he could really think about was Damon sneaking off to go see Bonnie.

Groggy. That was the best way Bonnie could describe how she felt right now. And strangely displaced. Her thoughts were garbled, but she knew without asking that she was in a hospital room if evidence by the fact the bed she was resting on wasn't her pillow top mattress, and the annoying beep of the monitors weren't dead giveaways.

Infinitesimally Bonnie tried to move and her body felt fine except her leg. It felt like she stuck it in an oven and roasted her flesh clean off.

A heavy-set nurse with tightly coiled hair entered her room. "Glad to see those eyes open, missy. You have a few visitors."

Visitors? Already? Other than Stefan no one else knew she was here. Just the thought of Stefan made her stomach somersault. The numbers on her heart monitor and blood pressure were beginning to climb.

The nurse told whoever was waiting out in the hall that it was okay to come in. Bonnie sat up as best she could, wincing at the burning taking place deep within her leg, yet she shielded her discomfort with a self-deprecating smile when Elena popped into the room.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Elena bent over the rail and hugged Bonnie as best she could. When she pulled away she tried to tuck some unruly strands of Bonnie's hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling? I heard Dr. Patel did your surgery. She's very good."

"I feel," Bonnie shrugged and soon got distracted by the sight of Damon taking up space in her small private room. As much as she wanted the last thirty plus hours to have been a nightmare, seeing the discolored bruise on his cheek and jaw just brought everything back into startling clarity. It had happened. Their secret was out. Stefan hated them both and wanted nothing farther to do with them.

Clearing her throat, Bonnie finished what she had been attempting to say. "I've felt better."

Elena gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed, ready to start her inquisition, but Damon held her off by approaching Bonnie and placing a deep kiss to her forehead. He wanted to kiss her lips but figured he'd only end up in a bed next to Bonnie's if he attempted to take liberties with Elena in the room.

"You scared me, cara. Don't do that again."

Bonnie met Damon's eyes, his best features. Her cheeks warmed. He hadn't called her cara in a long time.

Elena who sat silently watching their interaction—frowned.

Something tapping Bonnie's foot brought her attention back into focus. Her viridian orbs latched on to Elena's quizzical garnet ones.

"Damon can you give us a minute?" Bonnie asked.

Leaving her was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew he didn't have much authority here. For all intents and purposes he and Bonnie were family through marriage. That was it and that was all. He nodded and turned to leave but then stopped.

Stefan hovered in the doorway looking uncertain yet determined.

Bonnie leaned a little in bed to see what had apparently stopped Damon dead in his tracks. When her eyes landed on Stefan, her already erratically beating heart torpedoed in her chest.

"Bonnie your pressure is rising," Elena stood up from the bed, alarm peppering her words. "I'm going to get Dr. Patel."

Resting a hand on her chest, Bonnie took a few deep breaths. "No, I'm fine."

Damon thought, so Stefan couldn't kill her with his bare hands so he would settle with giving Bonnie a heart attack.

Stefan crossed over the invisible boundary and entered Bonnie's room. "Give me a minute with…my wife."

Damon's punching hand balled into a tight fist.

Elena could sense the tension in the room which naturally made her curious to know what was really going on. The way Damon had behaved with Bonnie…well she had never seen any brother-in-law take such care with the woman who married his brother. And she didn't miss the look of affection that had been a waving beacon on Bonnie's face towards Damon. Nor did it escape Elena that Bonnie looked slightly petrified to be left alone with Stefan, and her skin began to take on a slight greenish pallor.

Sliding off the bed, Elena kissed Bonnie's cheek and then grabbed the sleeve of Damon's leather jacket and led him out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Alone, Stefan shifted on his feet. He tried to look at Bonnie, but he couldn't keep his eyes on her for longer than a few seconds at a time. There was about a good seven feet of space between them and he didn't seem like he was going to get any closer.

That sadden Bonnie tremendously, but she would look at it as a good thing because right now she slightly feared for her safety which was absurd because deep down she knew Stefan would never hurt her.

"I," Stefan coughed to clear his throat. "I never meant for things to spiral like this, Bonnie."

"I know, Stefan. I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You were angry."

Stefan shook his head. "That's no excuse. I put your life in danger. I might be… extremely pissed off at you, but I had no right to do what I did."

"Stefan…"

He finally unglued his feet from the floor and strode over to her bed. Stefan didn't make a move to touch Bonnie. His eyes did drop to her leg but he couldn't see the extent of the damage their game of tug-o-war caused. She was stuffed underneath a lightweight blanket after all.

"How do you feel? Are you in pain?"

Bonnie fiddled with her fingers. "It hurts. It feels like I pulled a muscle. So long as I don't try to move suddenly, I don't really feel anything other than soreness. But then again, I'm a little high on pain meds."

Tentatively the feuding couple smiled at one another.

"I wanted to speak with you alone because the police are coming to question you on what happened."

Bonnie's heart once again began to pound in tandem. "What for? It was an accident. Do they think you purposely did this to me?"

"Look at my face. I look like I went twelve rounds with Tyson and I bring you in here all bloody and shit. They say its procedure, but if the police happens to take a trip to the house…I just wanted to let you know."

"Are you being arrested?"

Stefan shrugged. "For right now I'm still a free man."

"I'm not pressing charges," Bonnie said vehemently. "What happened was an accident."

"I threatened your life," Stefan snorted dryly.

Bonnie recoiled a bit because she knew what he was referring to. His parting words as he flew out of Damon's condo in New York.

"You were angry and spoke in the heat of the moment," Bonnie argued.

"Be that as it may this all looks messy. I can't be here when they come to question you, so I'm going to go back to the house and get some of your personal things. Dr. Patel thinks you'll be released tomorrow afternoon so long as you don't get an infection." Pause. "Bonnie, I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Stefan. For everything." Bonnie hesitated. "Why did you call me your wife just now?"

Stefan shrugged. He had no idea other than he knew it would get a rise out of Damon.

"It's just a word," he said. "After all that's happened, it doesn't mean anything."

Bonnie gulped and looked down at her fingers. "Stefan…I thought you were dead. We both did. We didn't…nothing ever happened between us when you were still here. Yes, we crossed lines that never should have been crossed, but we weren't together just to hurt you."

"I don't want to talk about this right now. I have a mess to clean up at the house and you need a change of clothes if you're being released tomorrow."

"I still love you, Stefan," Bonnie wiped her nose and chanced looking up at him. Stefan's face was stone.

He wanted to say something malicious like that's too damn bad, but he couldn't. Instead, Stefan would let her words absorb later. Right now, he had things to take care of. He inclined his head and then pivoted on his feet. He ran into his brother and Elena in the hallway.

"I'm heading back to the house to get a few things for Bonnie. Can you sit with her until I get back?" Stefan asked the general assembly.

"I can for fifteen minutes before I have to start my rounds again," said Elena.

Damon said nothing because he and Stefan already knew he wasn't leaving Bonnie's side.

"Okay," Stefan said as he lowered his head and walked past them.

Elena glanced at Damon before heading towards Bonnie's room. She turned back when she noticed he hadn't followed, and that's where Elena remembered that Bonnie had wanted to speak with her alone.

When Elena came out of the room exactly fifteen minutes later, her nose was inflamed and she wiped the back of her hand across her cheek in a futile attempt to get rid of the evidence that she had been crying. Elena paused in front of Damon.

"Bonnie told me everything."

Damon waited to be accosted and called every foul name in the book. He was a low down dirty bastard of a dog to go after his sister-in-law during her time of mourning his brother.

What he got was pulled into a hug. Their embrace ended as quickly and awkwardly as it began.

"I have to start my rounds," Elena sniffed and strolled down the hall.

Damon was rendered speechless as he made his way into Bonnie's room.

Pushing the door open, he found Bonnie having her vitals checked by another nurse. He stood silently to the side observing.

"How is she doing?" Damon inquired as the nurse packed up her materials.

"She's doing well. Has a strong heart, that one," she winked and left the two of them alone.

Damon sat down in the chair positioned caddy corner to the bed. He didn't hesitate to reach for Bonnie's hand.

"You told Elena the truth? Why?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I was tired of holding it in. She's my best friend," she smiled sadly. "She was more upset that I didn't think I could trust her enough to confide in her. She asked me if things were over between Stefan and me…and well he's the only one who can answer that question."

Unfortunately, Damon knew that Stefan was still very much in love with Bonnie. That was the curse of being a Salvatore—literally loving someone until death did you part.

"And," Bonnie continued, "Elena asked where things stood between us."

Damon tightened his hold on Bonnie's hand.

"She asked me if I had to make a choice right this second, who would I choose."

Damon heard the blood rushing to his ears so in an act of impulsivity he leaned closer to Bonnie and captured her lips in a searing kiss. It had been too long since he tasted her mouth, pillaged it like a pirate taking over a cargo ship.

Bonnie, overwhelmed and caught off guard, couldn't get a breath in. Her hands reached up to push him away, but Damon ended their kiss.

"I couldn't hold back. I can't hold back. Not anymore," Damon told her.

"Damon, are you crazy?" Bonnie scolded him. "What if Stefan had walked in?"

"Then he would have walked in," Damon sat back against the padded chair. "Okay, so the timing might be a little inappropriate, but I've gone without kissing you long enough. I had a bad feeling about leaving you alone with Stefan. When Elena called me and told me you were having surgery, my heart was in my throat the whole drive here. I didn't know what happened, or what to think. I just imagined the worst."

Bonnie was quiet for a while. "You know I have to figure things out with Stefan."

Damon grudgingly nodded. "I know that. Who would you have chosen, Bonnie?"

"This isn't a choice where I just flip a coin and call a side. I had a life with your brother, a good life. And then I didn't. I never thought I would be happy again, but then I was. For a while."

"And now?"

"Now everything is ruined."

Damon took her hand again and stared almost imploringly at Bonnie. "It doesn't have to be."

There was a tap on the door just moments prior to it being pushed open. Two of Mystic Falls finest strolled in, taking off their hats in the presence of a lady. Damon got to his feet.

"Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Salvatore. I'm Sheriff Danvers, this is my partner Colson. We just need to ask you a couple of questions pertaining to your…accident."

"I have nothing to say other than it was an accident and I'm not pressing charges due to my own clumsiness. And if I do in fact decide to come into the station, which won't be happening, then yes I'll give you a call. Sorry you wasted a trip coming here. Now, I'm feeling tired and my doctor says I should get as much rest as possible before I'm discharged."

The two sheriffs looked at one another knowing their investigation had pretty much been shut down. There was nothing further they could do if Bonnie wasn't going to press charges. And so far what information they had was circumstantial at best.

"Sorry indeed," Sheriff Danvers said, but then handed Bonnie his card anyways. "Just in case," he told her. "I've been in this profession for a long time, Mrs. Salvatore, and I've seen and heard it all. This might have been an 'accident' as you claim, but what about the next time?"

"If you're trying to victim shame me, sir, I should tell you right now it's not working because I'm not a victim. You've never been called to my residence before for a domestic dispute and you never will," Bonnie took a breath. "I know my rights and I'm done talking."

The sheriffs looked at Damon to see if he might give something away, but they almost had to do a double take when they spotted his bruises.

"Do you mind if I ask how you came about those bruises, sir?" Sheriff Colson asked.

"Yes, I'm a member of a BDSM club. Anything else you want to know?"

Bonnie coughed to hide her snickers as she watched the apples of both sheriffs' cheeks redden. Well, it was clear that the sheriffs weren't going to get anything out of Bonnie or Damon and decided to cut their losses.

"Hope you have a speedy recovery," Sheriff Danvers said and hustled towards the exit.

"Thank you," Bonnie replied graciously and held her breath until the sheriffs were gone. "You are so crazy."

Damon retook his seat. "You definitely are a pit bull in a skirt."

"More like a gladiator," Bonnie attempted to smile but then her chin quivered and her floodgates opened. She had never been questioned by the police before and though she had been quaking on the inside she was proud of the front she put up. The last thing her life needed was another scandal, to see Stefan's image splashed across the newspaper or on TV being carted off to jail and subsequently labeled a wife beater. He hadn't laid a finger on her. She had been the one to make a go for his suitcase in a weak attempt to get Stefan to stay and listen to her, but he yanked it away, she lost her footing, and she landed on glass.

That was the end of the story. Naturally everyone else would put their colorful spin to it. And if the truth of why the Salvatore brothers traded blows ever saw the light of day, well that would just up the ante on the salaciousness of the story.

Bonnie slumped against the pillows as Damon wiped her tears away. She was tired, she felt lonely, and the pressure was crushing her from the inside. She knew Damon wanted to know who she would make a life with and right now, Bonnie was at the point where she was willing to let them both go.

"Shush," Damon said and rubbed her shoulders. "You might feel like you have nothing left, but you have me."

"Damon…"

"I know. Just try to get some sleep."

Her eyes drifted closed but then they opened a moment later. "Will you please help Stefan? At the house." Bonnie yawned and felt herself going under. "He needs you, Damon."

Yeah, Damon thought. But I need you.

Chapter end.

A/N: There might be a good five chapters left in this little fic of mine. Some heavy truths will be revealed in the next update. If the demand is high I will try to update again sometime next week. I want to get this finished and I will say that I'm still not a hundred percent if any particular ship will be endgame although a few reviews from the last chapter do have me leaning towards one brother more so than the other, but nothing is set in stone just yet. Just a fair warning. Nevertheless, thank you for not abandoning this story although it doesn't get updated as much as I'm sure you'd all like it to be. Until next time, love you!