A/N: I had a time with this chapter. Can you say Kian induced ADHD? I started writing this on Friday barely keeping my eyes open, tried to finish it yesterday to no avail and got sidetracked like a mofo and ambushed with feels that did not help my Stefonnie muse. Now it's finished and I can't even tell you if this will make sense, lol. Regardless, I hope you guys enjoy. And thank you for continuing to love this story!
Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.
The rhythmic tapping of his pen against the desk was the only sound to be heard. Blank pages sat before him waiting to be used as a storehouse for angst, frustration, contentment, bruising disappointing, or unbridled happiness. Yet nothing came. He had nothing to say. Nothing to write. His mind raced continuously, but Stefan couldn't form a single thought to jot down, to make stick.
He had felt like this before. A week after what he and Damon conspired and ultimately carried out against Bonnie and Abby. The guilt made him stop drinking blood, bloodlust made him agitated and uncomfortable in his skin, and Stefan had found it impossible to sit down and accomplish anything. It was in times like that he wished he could be as detached as Damon. Be like his older brother in the sense that on the outside he appeared unflappable, as if nothing could rain on his parade. Damon's outlet was mostly booze and a string of women he'd bleed, fuck, and drain. Or he'd pick a fight with an Original, or snap the neck of his best friend or someone's brother, or took it out on Stefan. That's how Damon coped with things.
Stefan wasn't like that. He bottled things. He expressed himself by going over and beyond what any sane or rational person would do in order to keep the people he loved safe, or to save their lives. You save a life at the expense to your own. If Stefan had been a soldier that would have been one of the lessons he knew he would have been taught. But he wasn't a solider—at least not the classic definition of one. The entirety of his immorality had been based on fighting one thing after another.
War. Battle. Mêlée. It never ended.
Stefan was tired, simply put, but this fight he couldn't back down from. He couldn't escape it, and he couldn't lose. Too much, as usual was riding on the line, but this went far deeper than just trying to come out of something unscathed. Stefan could acknowledge he was the poster child for damaged goods. And repeatedly he questioned if there was anything good still in him.
There was his heart to consider, as he shifted on the hard wooden chair. That beating muscle he wore on his sleeve more times than he should have. But that heart was missing now. Gone. A void that was as endless as space was vast. And the person he had given it to for safe keeping, well Stefan was clueless on how to get her back.
He was the king when it came to making grand overtures, but Stefan was feeling tapped out. He knew firsthand that Bonnie wasn't exactly the sentimental type; at least he didn't think she was. Then again, not a lot of people went out of their way to do anything nice for her. He was part of that problem as well.
Stefan smarted as he remembered Bonnie's rejection of his ill-timed romantic interlude.
This wasn't some Hollywood movie. Bonnie wasn't going to forgive him for the shit he pulled with one dance. She wasn't going to say all was forgiven because he stopped her from climbing behind the wheel of her car and driving off to parts unknown. She wasn't a lead actress in a romantic drama and he wasn't a heartthrob with more abs than brains. They were creations of the supernatural, creatures of habit, sentient beings with souls that had been fractured and put back together with tape.
Being on the outs with Bonnie was nothing new. But the last time Stefan had been on her shit-list he had no romantic feelings towards her and the feeling was mutual. Bonnie equally blamed him and Damon for her grandmother's premature death, and Stefan had felt horrible and responsible for what befell Sheila Bennett. After all, he was the one to proposition Sheila and Bonnie. He couldn't pin what happened afterward on anyone's head but his own. And because of his burning desire to get Damon out of town by any means, Stefan had lost a friend in Bonnie while she had lost her only mother figure.
He snorted derisively. Apparently his single-mindedness seemed to go hand-in-hand with Bonnie losing a family member whether directly or indirectly by him and his brother.
Stefan rested his elbows on the desk and twirled his Mont Blanc pen between his fingers. His bluish-green orbs stared opaquely into his past. His one main goal in life, post blood addiction, had been never to hurt anyone but that's all he seemingly managed to do. He was like a child with a pair of scissors and a lighter.
His cell phone buzzed. Stefan saw who was calling and promptly hit the ignore button. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Damon's shit right now.
Rubbing his eyes, Stefan pushed to his feet and began to pace in front of his bed. His bed. Whipping his head back and forth, Stefan remembered the last time Bonnie had been with him, but more to the matter what they had been doing in this very room.
His fingers ran between the valley of her breasts while his eyes feasted on her lips before rising to meet her open yet slumberous gaze.
"Remember when I said I wanted us to get know what we like before we take the next step?" Stefan questioned.
Bonnie nodded and began to look reticent. "I do. Did you have something in mind?"
"Yes," he kissed her cheek, and bit her earlobe gently. "I like back rubs," he winked and then quickly assumed the position, lying on his stomach and using his folded arms as a makeshift pillow.
Bonnie gawked at him, rose to her elbows, and pursed her lips. "I thought gentlemen always let ladies go first."
Stefan peeled open one eye to look at her. "A gentleman wouldn't be thinking about you the way I have since you walked through the door. Nor would he ask: can I lick your pussy?"
"Stefan!" Bonnie smacked his shoulder in mock outrage before giggling.
"You don't want to know the prurient thoughts I've been having about you, but," Stefan sat up in bed. "Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, my hand around my cock stroking myself because of the dreams I have about you."
Bonnie's cheeks blazed to astronomical redness and she averted her eyes unable to maintain Stefan's intense gaze.
Yet he continued. "They're so vivid. I imagine you sitting on my face as I my tongue probes you while I rub my dick preparing to slide deep inside of you all the way to your cervix…"
Bonnie slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him because his words were having a very lustful effect on her. He was bold, she couldn't deny that, and as much as Bonnie wanted to take that next and final step and consummate what they had, at the same time things were still so new between them.
"I think I get the picture," she nearly whispered, the twin peaks of her breasts straining against the material of her bra.
Stefan pulled her hand away from his mouth, "I want to finish," he chastised. "I don't want to keep anything from you although I probably should tone things down," he caressed her cheek with his thumb, falling deeper in love with her innocence. And it was there Stefan realized he had fallen in love with Bonnie. There may have been some part of him that always cared a great deal about her, even when he didn't act like he did, but Bonnie was important to him.
He thought very briefly of that time where he basically ordered Bonnie and Abby to find a way to crack open that stubborn coffin, and the minute they did, and Bonnie lay unconscious on the ground as a result of being successful, the old Stefan, the concerned and compassionate Stefan had slipped out. He didn't like seeing her hurt.
It was here, in this bed, in his new home that Stefan realized that if anything were to happen to Bonnie, if anyone tried to hurt her it wouldn't end well for that person. She was in his heart, in every single cell of his body, and he would wait for her even if it took an eternity (he was hoping it wouldn't) just to be with her uninhibitedly.
She was worth it and he wanted to do things right.
"You make me so unbelievably happy, Bonnie."
Tears had instantly swelled in her eyes and Bonnie had been the one to initiate their kissing session.
Day had faded into night by the time they came up for air. Bonnie's hair was nothing more than a mass of curls, her lips dryer than a desert, all the blood seemingly redirected to the center of her body.
"Is this enough for you, Stefan?" Bonnie wondered and ran her fingers over his face. They couldn't seem to stop touching each other which only served to deepen their bond. Made it more concrete.
He pulled her hand away from his face and kissed her fingertips. "Yes, this is enough for me, but I could always use a little bit more."
"More what?"
"More you."
"You have me."
"I know that, but there're still parts of you that are a mystery to me and I'm not just talking about sexually. I have no doubt things will be good between us in that area. But…I still feel as if I really don't know you."
Bonnie looked a little hurt and confused when he said that. Sure she wasn't as open a book as others. People had to earn their way into her heart and once there they remained for life. Being burned by those she thought she could trust made Bonnie put up thicker walls and keep everyone at arm's length.
"I could say the same about you, Stefan. There's one hundred and sixty years I have no clue about."
Stefan could concede that was true. Bonnie had only known him for the last two years and even what she did know was miniscule at best.
"Then this means we have a lot of ground to cover," the green-eyed vampire said and then rose from the bed taking Bonnie with him. "We should get started."
"Get started? Stefan it's like ten o'clock at night."
His eyes widened, "I know. We're a pair of rebels. And it's a school night, too."
Bonnie rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.
"If we're going to gab we might as well do it over a snack," he ran heated eyes over her figure, "and partially naked. Talking makes me hungry and there's a lot I want to say."
That night they had talked about politics down to their favorite soap operas and favorite film adaptations of books. In their underwear. They talked until their vocal chords were raw but still had only skimmed the surface of their own icebergs.
Bonnie wanted to know him. She knew what made him tick, what made him smile, what got on his nerves, what made his dick hard. But she didn't know the bad, the ugly, the downright evil parts of him he had worked overtime to bury in a shallow grave. Darkness cloaked him no matter how many human traits he retained. And though Stefan always called that shadow Damon, he couldn't place the full blame of his actions on his brother. Damon played his part, but Stefan had played his part as well.
At the end of the day, when Stefan looked in a mirror he saw his brother's reflection.
He was sure that's what Bonnie saw when she looked at him now. Therefore, Stefan made a conscious decision to change. Not for Bonnie, but for himself. It was past time.
Salvatore Boardinghouse
"She's not answering her phone," Elena hit the end button on her touch screen and slipped her cell into the back pocket of her jeans. Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her long hair. Elena was trying not to worry or grow hysterical, but history had taught her along with her own personal experiences that anytime someone went missing it was never a good thing.
Damon whipped around, tumbler filled with bourbon in hand. "Neither is my brother. You think they might be together?"
Elena shook her head. "No. I ran into Jeremy at the dance. He said he talked to Bonnie and she was on her way out of town. He got the impression she wasn't leaving with Stefan."
A toothy grin overtook Damon's face. "Trouble in paradise so soon?" he gloated. As much as he would love to throw his head back and laugh at his brother's misfortunes with the fairer sex, he couldn't. Alaric was missing and Damon needed answers, an explanation. Who took him or was this a clever escape?
Imagine his surprise when he popped up at Alaric's to check on his old drinking buddy to find the apartment empty and Alaric gone. There had been no blood, no signs of a struggle, but still that didn't rule out the possibility that Alaric may have been taken against his will. So far no one had contacted him specifically for a ransom so in Damon's mind, Alaric was still alive.
The elder Salvatore wouldn't start panicking just yet. The last remaining white oak stake was safe and far out of Alaric's reach.
Damon began to compile a list of people who wanted Ric dead. There were the remaining Originals, but apart from them, there was no one else. Sure, Damon could include himself on the list, but he was obeying the edict issued by his girlfriend that Alaric was not to be killed. Ugh, the blue-eyed devil lamented. This was one particular downfall to being in a relationship, having to restrain his old habits and urges in order to keep the missus happy. Still, time was of the essence and Damon knew he needed to find Ric.
Stefan wasn't answering his phone and Bonnie was presumably out of town and not answering hers either. Damon tapped his ring against his glass, lips pursed in contemplation.
"Call Caroline and have her call Bonnie. She might pick up for Vampire Barbie."
Hearing that only made Elena sad. There was a time where Bonnie didn't let her phone ring more than twice whenever she called, and now facing the reality that Bonnie might be dodging her phone calls just made that void in Elena's heart a little bit bigger. Her friendship with Bonnie really had suffered and deteriorated because of her involvement with Damon, the doppelganger realized.
Sucking in a breath, Elena called Caroline and unfortunately she didn't answer either, but then she really didn't expect her to. Tyler had come back, and the two were more than likely going at it like bunnies. He had showed up at the dance last night and the two had been inseparable.
"She's not answering. She's probably with Tyler."
Grunting, Damon cursed was it really so hard to find reliable people? Guess he'd have to go out and try to track down Ric the old fashioned way. By looking.
"Grab your stuff. I'm going to drop you off at home and then go out and search for that naughty little teacher."
"I can come with you."
Damon shook his head. "I work better and faster on my own," he stated unapologetically and then waited for Elena by the front door.
Oxon Hill, Maryland
He had been eyeing her all night. The pretty brown skin girl with the green eyes. It wasn't the way she was dressed although that certainly helped attract attention. The dark denim jeans she wore looked painted on her svelte frame and the red corseted top made her titties look lush. It was the way she moved and twerked her hips that said there was something primal in the girl who probably spent a great deal of time under someone's thumb. Be it her daddy, mama, maybe even a boyfriend who had a jealousy streak a mile wide. She wasn't from around here. That was obvious because he had been coming to this place long enough to differentiate the locals from the out-of-towners.
He recognized the people she was with. They were all youngins and came from a good family, a family that pretty much stuck to themselves and never caused any problems. But that girl, with the way she was shaking her ass was a spitfire and made his loins pound behind his zipper. He chugged greedily from his beer and wiped his lips with the back of his tattooed hand. He didn't know who she was, if she had a man or not, but he decided it didn't matter. If she wanted to go home with him at the end of the night he wouldn't stop her.
Grin in place, he hefted his large and stocky frame from the barstool and casually made his way through the crowd. People gave him a wide berth as he sauntered through. They knew him. Knew his reputation, knew that he had a short fuse and it wasn't wise to piss him off for any reason.
He slid into place behind the girl at the perfect time. She liked to dance with her eyes closed although that wasn't very safe; left her at a disadvantage, but placed him at an advantage. He might not be the most handsome guy in the room, but his prowess spoke for itself and already he had to turn down several offers from bar groupies who congregated here every single weekend.
He could give a shit about them. This strange girl right here piqued his interest.
One hand touched the side of her hip while the other landed on her stomach. He felt the girl flinch at his touch. Nevertheless, he pulled her flush against him so she could feel the hard column of muscles hidden beneath his flannel shirt and jeans.
"Dance with me, darlin'," he breathed into her ear. He wouldn't move until she started rotating those wide hips and ground that sweet ass into his crotch—more to the matter—erection.
"I-I'm okay dancing by myself."
She had a nice sounding voice. No accent to place where she might be from. She could be from the south or she could be from up north. Maybe from the west. She looked like a California doll now that he was practically standing on top of her. She did sound a little young but you had to be eighteen to get into this establishment. Then again, fake ID's could look as authentic as the real thing with the technology that's out now.
"Just one dance, darlin'," he opted to negotiate with her. He wouldn't force her to dance with him because he hated when guys tried to turn an obvious no into a coerced yes.
Bonnie didn't know what the hell to do. She wasn't getting any supernatural vibes from the man, but she couldn't exactly ignore the muscles that surrounded her and made her feel somewhat trapped. He smelled pretty good even if his breath was tainted with the stench of alcohol yet it came with the territory considering this was a bar.
Would one dance really kill her? Probably not, so Bonnie craned her neck to make eye contact with the man.
"Whoa," she mouthed as her vision was bombarded with a ruggedly handsome somewhat weather beaten face. Cowboy, rough rider, hellion is what came to mind as she stared transfixed into a pair of hazel eyes. When he smirked Bonnie's thoughts were obliterated and she nodded. "One dance."
Momentarily she froze undecided if it would be in her best interest to face the guy or to keep her back to him. Thanks to Stefan she knew what a hard dick felt like and this guy was definitely packing heat. Part of Bonnie wanted to be disgusted—and she was—but the other part of her just wanted to shrug and say to hell with it. Again, nothing was going to come of them dancing, but honestly Bonnie never danced with anyone she didn't know at least by association.
She could really slap herself for being a virgin in more areas than one.
Facing front, Bonnie's cousin Melissa gawked at her with wide eyes that were filled pride. She gave the witch a conspiratorial wink.
Little by little Bonnie began to wind her hips getting back into the groove that was set by the DJ. If you asked her what song was blasting from the turntables she wouldn't be able to tell you. Instead she lightly braced her hands on top of the ones that held with a firm and slightly possessive grip around her waist. She closed her eyes again, let her thoughts fade away, and snuggled back into that safe place within herself.
In the beginning of the night she felt awkward. Bonnie had forgotten how to behave like a regular teenager. She had forgotten how to do something simple like ride in the backseat of a car and simply listen to music. Hearing music wasn't a foreign thing to her. Music played softly in the background at the Grill and it was a staple at every single Founder's event Bonnie used to circle and stand on the outside looking in. Now she could just enjoy listening to music for the simple pleasure of it, and not have to use it mask the sound of whispered plotting.
Soon Bonnie undulate her body against the stranger swaying her head from side to side.
She had told Caroline she wanted to be alone but what Bonnie actually meant was she wanted a break from the supernatural. Even if the break only lasted for a couple of hours, Bonnie just wanted to make some room in her brain and get back to basics. She could never escape what she was, but here in this different environment she didn't have to waste precious hours thinking about it. There were no constant reminders of the powers that lied deep within her genome code that separated her from others.
For the first time Bonnie felt wide awake, truly awake and not just seeing the world in shades of death, blood, and fangs. And she would hold on to this feeling as she unfortunately had to return to Mystic Falls.
Bonnie couldn't really explain why she was handling her breakup with Stefan so different. After the bombshell of Jeremy cheating on her with an incorporeal, Bonnie didn't slip into a chocolate induced depression. In fact, she hardly had time to spare her tragic high school romance a single thought because Originals needed killing. There never seemed to be a shortage of things that needed to be killed, and several months later things were pretty much the same.
Shaking her head Bonnie got back into the moment. She was with her cousin from her dad's side of the family. Usually Bonnie fought tooth and nail not to have to spend summers with them, but she got into her car, started driving with no real set destination in mind and ended up at her uncle's house who was more than perplexed to see her.
"Hey, Uncle Kevin, surprised to see me," Bonnie smiled and lugged her suitcase up the stairs and into the house.
"Surprised yes and also suspicious. That brother of mine hasn't finally given up has he?"
"No, I just wanted to see you guys, that's all."
"Un-hun, does he know you're here?"
Bonnie hunched her shoulders while the corners of her mouth turned down. "I left a note for him that I was taking off and I'd call once I was settled."
Being set up in her older cousin's room who was away at college, Bonnie spent her first night in Maryland thinking about her breakup with Stefan.
This seemed to be a growing trend with her that things crumbled and fell apart before they really had to a chance to begin.
Bonnie could just chuck it up to being part of life that high school romances seldom lasted longer than a few weeks—months if you're lucky. But this knowledge didn't do anything to make her feel better. One of the things Bonnie abhorred was feeling like a failure. If a spell didn't work to protect those close to her, she had to live with that. No one else had to carry that burden. If she by herself wasn't enough to make someone happy, keep someone satisfied then Bonnie was stuck questioning her own level of effectiveness, made her question if there was something about her that made people betray her.
She may have loved Stefan but she couldn't turn a blind eye to what he had done and continue to be with him. Her name wasn't Elena Gilbert after all.
The man behind her was a fairly decent dancer, Bonnie mused. She wouldn't haul off and call him twinkle toes, but he had rhythm and knew exactly how to work those hips of his. Periodically Bonnie felt his breath fan against her shoulder and it sent a pleasurable shiver over her body as he ground his pelvis into her tush.
"You're beautiful," he nearly groaned.
Thank you, Bonnie wanted to reply but didn't. Instead she focused on the sweat building up on her skin, the heat of the bar increasing like a climax. She could sense it in the air, practically taste it, and when she bent over to touch her toes before snapping back up, it happened.
The dam that contained her innermost emotions that she always had to safeguard was broken. The hurt, pain, anger, disappointment, everything that weighed her shoulders down was thrown into an air tight sarcophagus, and she could finally breathe. For so long she held on to her grief about Grams, Jeremy, her tattered friendship with Elena, Caroline's descent into vampirism and the fact she treated her like a pariah, the numerous blows delivered by the Salvatore's, all of it was shoved brutally aside and Bonnie allowed joy, peace, love, and happiness to overtake her because she realized something.
She was beautiful. Powerful. Amazing. And she didn't have to settle for less than what she was worth. She didn't have to be second best. She did not have to let anyone use her simply for her gift. She didn't have to let Stefan's deception define her. She wasn't going to waste a moment crying tears over an asshole or feel sorry for herself. She had done that enough.
Bonnie made a choice just like Lucy had made her choice. Stop letting them use you. Stop getting in the middle of things. She didn't have to be in the middle, but for so long that's where Bonnie brainwashed herself into thinking that's exactly where she needed to be.
All she had to do was follow through and that would prove to be the hard part. The tough part.
It was astonishing that a path of self-discovery could be ignited by a dance with a stranger.
Or maybe she was just drunk.
The song ended and Bonnie was ready for a drink and a chance to sit down. The man holding her released her and she turned to face him. She knew nothing about him, not his name and honestly she didn't want to know because it might ruin the moment.
He held out a hand, Bonnie accepted. "Thank you for the dance."
Bonnie only smiled.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
Her smile increased.
"I'm James by the way but everyone calls me Jimmy."
Bonnie continued with her silence and allowed Jimmy to escort her to the bar.
The night came to a close on a good note. Bonnie didn't cry any tears in the bottom of her cup and she didn't talk about her relationship woes. Merely wore holes in the bottom of her shoes until the place shut down. Bonnie climbed into the back seat of her cousin Melissa's boyfriend's Impala and traced designs on the cool glass with her fingers on the ride to Wendy's to get some grub.
It had started to rain at some point but now it was drizzling which was luring Bonnie to sleep. Her hair was plastered to her damp skin, makeup ruined, feet were aching, but she didn't care. Those were all cursors that she was alive, human, and that she had had fun.
Melissa turned in her seat to face Bonnie. "Did you get that guy's number? I see him every single time we go to that bar, and women are typically all over him. And I saw the way you were grinding on him. Freak!"
Bonnie rolled her head against the seat, and smirked. "No, I didn't get his number. Besides, he's way older than me."
"So?" Melissa scoffed. "Being older means he has more life experience."
Yeah, I know men who are a thousand years old and still behave like toddlers, Bonnie thought. Age might have meant more life experience but it didn't equate maturity. She let her eyes drift back to the window and up to the street lights as they zoomed by.
"In the end," Bonnie said, "I just would have been too much for him to handle." Melissa chortled and flipped back around in her seat. Bonnie smiled, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
The first thing Alaric did after regaining his freedom was order himself a big fat juicy steak and washed it down with a Guinness beer. Not at the Grill. He couldn't go there of course. Went to the next town over. For one illicit moment he thought about buying a whore because he kind of figured the Kamikaze mission he was about to go on would definitely be his last and he appallingly couldn't remember what pussy felt like. So he tried his hand at seduction, using his dead wife as a way in. A leggy brunette who kind of reminded him of Isobel bought his bullshit with a coupon. Half a bottle of Jack and three condoms later, Alaric slipped out of the apartment like a thief fleeing the scene of a crime with an ear-to-ear grin on his face.
He returned to Mystic Falls by cab since his truck had been confiscated by the police. Alaric, per her instructions, had been dropped off in front of a dilapidated building that used to be an office supply store that burned down. Entering, Alaric spotted a woman with blonde hair and a no-nonsense expression waiting for him.
"Couldn't you have picked a more dismal place to meet?" he asked flippantly.
If possible the woman's frowning face became even more severe. "You seemed to have retained a sense of humor though it won't do you very good for what's going to take place next. I will say that I am surprised you were able to break the vampire's compulsion."
Alaric shrugged and slipped his hands in the back pocket of his jeans. "Damon is a lazy bastard but his brother Stefan is very sensitive. I kind of figured that if a vampire under an Original's compulsion can get out of it upon that Original's death, it might work the same way with humans. Bearing in mind you have a ring that'll bring you back from being killed at the hands of a supernatural."
"Indeed. So you provoked the younger of the Salvatore's, I take it."
"And he snapped my neck as my reward. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, what's our next step?"
"The white oak stake," Esther Mikaelson took a step forward.
Ric pulled his lips back from his teeth. "All of them except for one is in your son's possession. Damon has the other one hidden somewhere."
"Locating it won't be difficult. Not as difficult as what you are about to go through. I need to know, Alaric," Esther tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "are you prepared to carry out the rest of your destiny?"
"And that is again?"
"I have no time for your glibness," Esther raised her voice and spooked a couple of birds that had been hiding in the rafters. "This is a serious undertaking to become a hunter like my husband Mikael. He knew what needed to be done and if you are having second thoughts or you still feel some loyalty to the-,"
"I don't," Alaric interrupted, grimly. "The vampires of this town, hell the world over have gotten away with capital murder time after time again. My wife left me to become one of those assholes, and the asshole who turned her killed me more than once."
"Despite that a friendship formed between you," the matriarch of the Mikaelson clan pointed out.
"Yeah, the good it did," the ex-teacher grumbled. "I'm a hunter, Esther. That's what I do and that's who I am. I just got a little off track but now I'm back on it. I'm ready."
Esther studied Alaric for a moment. Binding her children's lives so that whatever befell one would befall the others ended in tragedy with one of her sister's ruthlessly being turned into a monster; a monster race she created only to spare her children from dying when they were still human. This was her mistake to clean up and if it meant Esther would have to make Alaric into an ultimate killing machine she'd do it, but he needed to be a hundred percent committed to her cause.
This was war. And in war there were casualties. Some who deserved death and some who didn't. Hopefully the spirits would be able to forgive her for this.
For weeks Esther had been infiltrating Alaric's dreams, augmenting the hatred that was buried deep in his heart for the slights vampires had done to him. Esther also knew that Alaric had been taking herbs prepared by Bonnie to keep him mentally stabilized, but they were not an absolute inoculation against her kind of magic. There were always loopholes.
"All right," she said after a thoughtful pause. "Our next step is the doppelganger."
There were times Bonnie hated being a girl. It became especially inconvenient when your tire decided to blow, at night, while making your way home, and you had the faintest clue on how to change a flat nor the muscle power to do so. Thankfully Bonnie was able to pull the car over to the shoulder without being plowed into by traffic. Switching her hazard lights on, she dug into her bag to call Triple A who naturally kept her on hold for ten minutes before saying it would be nearly an hour before they could get someone out to her.
Bonnie had been fifteen miles outside of Mystic Falls and she could probably walk to her house faster than roadside assistance would grace her with their presence. She gnawed on her bottom lip as she thought of who to call that would be the most logical.
She had three choices really, but only two of them Bonnie could actually stomach to be around. Decision made she called Matt and prayed he wasn't at work for once.
The line cracked which spelled poor reception the second Matt answered. Pressing a finger to her ear like that would actually make a damn bit of difference, Bonnie practically yelled into the receiver.
"Matt! Matt can you hear me?! I caught a flat tire fifteen miles outside of town."
"Bonnie…what? I can barely hear you."
Bonnie huffed already feeling exasperated. "I said that I caught a flat fifteen miles outside of town. Can you help me?"
"You have a flat tire?" he parroted.
"YES! Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, now I can hear you. Your phone kept breaking up. Where are you exactly?"
Looking through her windshield for some type of landmark, to Bonnie's misfortune there was nothing but highway and trees. She growled and then pouted. "I'm stuck on the side of the road and there's nothing around but trees and possibly a hungry possum. You should be able to see me since you'll be coming north. I'm on Highway 7. I have my flashers on."
"All right. Hang tight. I'll try to get to you as soon as I can. Stay in your car and keep the doors locked."
Bonnie nodded absently but then wanted to roll her eyes. Like locked doors could keep you safe from a deranged man with a hook for a hand or a cannibal.
"Thanks, Matt. Please hurry."
"Do me a favor and call Caroline and let her know you're stranded, all right?"
"Okay. See you soon."
The two longtime friends hung up at the same time and Bonnie expeditiously called Caroline who didn't answer so Bonnie left her a message. For five seconds the overwhelmed witch debated on texting Stefan knowing he would probably reach her faster than Matt, but Bonnie wasn't ready to see or talk to him. She was still riding off a natural high and she didn't want anything to knock her off her cloud. Deep inside Bonnie could attest to missing Stefan, however, she just didn't want to have to depend on him for anything ever again.
He had proven that like Damon he couldn't be trusted.
To keep her thoughts off the sounds of nature, Bonnie turned the radio on, but then switched it off and plugged in her iPod.
She wanted to listen to something that would ease her mind and help her to relax. Constantly she looked out every window to make sure nothing and no one was attempting to sneak up on her.
Cars occasionally passed her by, but no one stopped which only served to irritate the stranded witch. When her cell phone blared noisily, Bonnie jumped out of her skin and scrambled to answer it, and then groaned.
Ugh, it was Damon. Ignore.
Bonnie flipped her phone on the passenger seat just for the ringing to start once more. Twenty seconds later the ringing stopped and then her text message alert sounded.
Sighing aggravatedly, Bonnie retrieved her phone and opened up her text inbox.
Ric is missing. Where the hell are you?
"None of your fuckin business," Bonnie gritted through clenched teeth. The nerve of this bastard. "And of course Ric would go missing right when I come back home," Bonnie muttered and then typed a brusque reply.
Then I guess U better find him!
She couldn't turn off her phone so Bonnie would just consciously ignore Damon and his phone calls and text messages. She wasn't a genie in a bottle and she wasn't going to poof away anyone's problems anymore. Well, maybe if asked nicely. If the problem didn't directly involve or affect her, Bonnie was going to sit out on the sidelines. You make a mess, you create anarchy good luck cleaning it up on your own was her new motto.
Blinding headlights began to slowly approach her car from behind. Bonnie narrowed her eyes as she looked through the rearview mirror to see if she could determine if it were Matt or a concerned citizen. She could tell it was a truck slowing to a stop, but she couldn't identify the driver.
Moments later, the driver side door opened and a man hopped out and began walking purposefully to her car.
"Bonnie?"
Hearing Matt's voice loosened Bonnie's taut muscles. She unlocked the door and climbed out of her car, relief evident on her face.
"Hey, thank you so much for coming," she pressed her hands together in prayer formation before hugging Matt.
"I'm glad you're all right. Here, go wait in my truck while I change this flat."
Bonnie did as ordered. She watched Matt struggle with getting the lug nuts off the hubcap, but he managed to change her tire pretty quickly afterwards, and definitely in less time it would have taken Bonnie had she made an attempt.
Matt wiped his dirty hands on his jeans grimacing the whole while. They were also nice and stiff because of the cold weather.
Bonnie hopped out of Matt's truck, smiling appreciatively.
"You are my guardian angel, Matt," Bonnie gushed.
The blonde teen blushed nearly to his roots, "Yeah I bet you say that to all the guys," he brushed off her compliment. "Well, you should be good to go. I'll follow behind you just to make sure nothing happens."
"Do I need to buy a completely new tire?" Bonnie queried as she walked back to her vehicle.
"I'm not sure but you'll definitely want to have a mechanic check it out."
Once she was buckled in, Bonnie eased her car off the shoulder and back on the highway. She drove five miles under the speed limit because she never drove on a spare tire before, and she wasn't taking any chances of a mishap occurring.
Thirty-five minutes later she pulled into the driveway of her house. Matt let his truck idle against the curb while he watched Bonnie retrieve her suitcase and hoist her luggage up to the porch.
"Good night, Bon!" Matt yelled.
"'Night, Matt and thanks again."
"No problem," he pulled off the second Bonnie was behind closed doors.
After dumping her stuff in her room, Bonnie promptly hopped in the shower to warm her bones and to wash her momentary stress away. She declined washing her hair knowing it would be too much of a hassle, and she was just ready to pull back the covers and climb into her bed. Alone. Exiting the bathroom wrapped in a towel, the green-eyed beauty came to a stop.
Resting at the foot of her bed was an ornate chest that stood about two feet in height and was about a yard in length. It was made out of mahogany wood from what Bonnie could tell.
"What the…?" her thought trailed off as Bonnie drew closer to the chest wondering how it spontaneously materialized in her bedroom when it hadn't been there when she arrived home. Her eyes quickly darted around the room expecting to find a certain vampire, but she was alone.
There was a folded parchment on top of the chest that Bonnie grabbed and opened. Stefan's elegant script was emblazoned on the expensive paper.
Bonnie,
'The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.' This quote especially holds true in my case because I've only shown the parts of myself that I wanted people to see. I am damaged. I am flawed. I do inhumane and unforgiveable things, but there's more to me than just the darkness that surrounds what I am. If I want you to love me, then you need to know the me I've written about throughout my immortality, the me not even Damon knows. I want you to know all there is to know and I'll leave it up to you to decide if I'm worth or worthy enough for a second chance. I don't deserve it simply because of the truths I withheld from you, but I need you to believe how I feel about you, how you make me feel is not fabricated. I love you. Ardently. And as such, I'm giving you my most valuable possession(s). My journals.
Forever yours,
Stefan
Bonnie's jaw hit the floor and she didn't waste a second to pull open the hood of the chest to reveal…
One hundred and forty-seven years of journals.
"Oh, God…"
Chapter end.
A/N: So I decided to go a different route with Bonnie processing her breakup with Stefan. Usually she'd be snarling or Hulk crazy mad or uber depressed, but I decided I wanted Bonnie to focus on her positives and what makes her so great and to choose to be happy regardless. That won't equate her to living in denial or saying the hurt and pain she feels doesn't exist, but merely she's making a conscious decision to focus on the positive and not the negative.
It took me a while to figure out what Stefan could do to try to make some leeway with Bonnie. In my previous stories when the main pairing hit a rough patch, the one who was in the doghouse tried to make amends from a financial standpoint, and that idea is over done to me, so I thought, if I were Stefan and I wanted to say sorry but also let this person judge me based on ALL the facts and not just some what would I do? Give the person I love access to my most private and valuable possessions. So he's given Bonnie all of his journals. Will that change anything between Stefonnie? We shall see. And the quote Stefan used is from Thomas Merton's No Man Is An Island, in case you were curious. Thank you guys for reading, and please excuse this ridiculously long A/N. I just have so much on my brain. Until next time, love you.
Sorry, another special note. I was channeling Wolverine for the guy Bonnie was dancing with. In case you were curious :D
