A/N: Hello, beloved readers, I would like to ask y'all a question. Last chapter, I discussed the idea of Stefan and Caroline going into the dream with Bonnie and Damon. What do you think about that? Is it a good idea? A bad idea? Too soon? Why do you think what you think? I could go either way, so I thought I should ask you guys what you would like to see! Please, let me know!
The ghost had chopped off a fair, and uneven, amount of Bonnie's hair. There were really long pieces that they hadn't touched, and then there were really short pieces. After they finished with her hair, they took the scissors a made a long gash down her face. And Damon couldn't do a damned thing about it. He was forced to watch, but he could do nothing to save her. Whatever was holding him back was impossibly strong, and he hated it. He hated this. He hated that he couldn't save her. He hated that something had went wrong. Mostly, though, he hated himself. He hated himself for getting them stuck here. If anyone deserved to die here, it was him. And with every passing second, Bonnie's heartbeat got fainter and fainter.
So, the moment the force let him free, he leapt toward her. Something else had a different idea, though, because he hit the floor face first. If he stretched out his arm, he would have been able to touch the little witch. As he started to scoot toward her, something was driven into his back. Damon grunted and gasped, laying his face on the cold floor. It was some type of wood. He stretched his arm around, but he couldn't reach it to pull it out. Damon gritted his teeth, as he crawled over to Bonnie. He would be fine. He would worry about himself later. Right now, Bonnie was dying. He looked her over, and closed his eyes tightly.
With just one look at the back of her head, he knew the wound was fatal, and that he only had one option. He also knew that she'd hate him for it. She would hate him if he gave her his blood and then she died. She'd come back, but that would be the problem. She wouldn't be a witch any longer, she'd be a vampire, and she'd hate him for that. There would be no chance for him anymore. What did it matter, though? She'd be alive, and that would be better than the alternate. He just prayed that if she died, that one day, even thousands of years from now, she'd forgive him.
Without a second thought, he bit into his wrist and pressed it to her lips. Please Bonnie. She would understand. Eventually, she would understand. He watched the cut on her face heal, and slowly she came back to him. Colour was coming back into her face. Carefully, he lifted her head slightly to see the closed wound there. She was still unconscious, but all of her wounds had healed. He pulled his wrist back, and watched as the bite marks vanished on his marble skin. The vampire looked back down at the sleeping maiden, and he gingerly wiped the blood from her mouth.
Her skin was like ice. Damn it, Bonnie, He thought. The way he saw it, he had two options here. Well, if she was going to kill him anyway, she might as well have more than one reason to. He went to stand, and then he realized that there was still something sticking in his back. He twisted his arm back again, and stretched as far as he dared. He barely got his hand around the stick, but he did, and with a painful grunt, he pulled it free. The vampire tossed it across the room as he got to his feet.
He made his way over to the bed where the piles of things still were. First, he dressed himself. The clothes were simple: a black tee, and black jeans. He then, with one sweep of his arm, pushed the pile of things onto the floor. He would clean it later. Damon worked quickly. He removed the wet sheets and replaced them with dry ones that he found around the room; he didn't use the ones they'd gotten in the bag because they'd need them later. After he was done with the bed, he went over to Bonnie's sleeping body. Oh so carefully, he lifted her into his arms. For a moment he stood there and looked at her. She looked so peaceful, so complete, like nothing bad had ever happened. She looked very…young.
Sighing, Damon set her down on the bed. She made a light, content noise, and he thought he could see the smallest of smiles creep its way onto her lips. Her smile made him smile. He then shook himself, and looked away from her, going back to the task at hand. He moved to the other side of the bed, and picked the clothes Bonnie dropped off of the floor. Don't hate me, he thought to her as he went back over to her. I'm just trying to save your life. Damon moved quickly, yet gently so he didn't wake her. After fumbling with her shirt for a few moments, he gave up and ripped it from her. He lifted her body up, and pulled the clean one over her head. How was she still sleeping?
Is this what it was like to dress the dead? If it was, he felt bad for the people who had to do it. Concern wadded into his brain briefly before he pushed it away. She'd be fine. He'd given her his blood, and she just had to sleep it off. Damon shook his head, and ripped away the remainder of what used to be her jeans. As best as he could, he got her into the dry pair, and then he stopped, and just looked at her. It was better that she wouldn't freeze to death now. Granted, she'd never talk to him again, but she'd be alive to do it. Damon chuckled at their misfortune, and rolled his eyes. How had this all happened anyway? How had he gone from murderer to protector?
Because it's Bonnie, his brain whispered to him. That was true. It was Bonnie. Even though it made no sense to anyone, he loved her. He loved her stubbornness and how she acted fearless, he loved that she was the most selfless person he'd ever met, he loved that she was a hero. She was a hero, and he knew that no one realized it, but she was. She'd saved everyone's ass over and over, and she continues to do so. She also had the hero complex. Another stray smile found Damon's mouth. Yes, Bonnie had a hero complex. She thought she was invincible. She thought that nothing could touch her, and that was yet another reason why he was completely and madly in love with her.
He remembered the day that he'd realized that he loved her. It seemed so far away now. The two of them were checking out a lead they had about a way to kill Klaus, and as usual they had gotten into an argument. He'd forgotten what they were arguing about, but he remembered looking into Bonnie's eyes, and he'd lost it. It was all he did. He had looked into those deep green eyes, and he was gone. He knew that he'd felt something for her before that, but that was the exact moment when he'd known that he was in love with Bonnie Bennett.
And it had only gotten worse from there. It'd gotten to the point where he'd find himself lounging in the oak tree outside of her bedroom window. Stalking. Classy, Damon, he thought to himself. Sometimes he would just go on a walk and find himself standing outside her house. Sometimes he didn't even know how he ended up there. There was just something calming and familiar about being around her. He'd never been inside the house, though. He wasn't invited. He would just stand outside and let his mind wander to her. Of course, that would be something she'd never have to know.
Now, now he'd be damned if he let her slip through his fingers. He knew that she felt something for him. She hadn't admitted it to herself yet, but he knew she could feel it. People who kiss back like that just don't feel nothing. He knew that she'd come around. Well, after she got over the fact that he'd given her his blood and changed her clothes while she was passed out, but that was just a bump in the road. It'd take her two year maximum to get over that. He could wait that long. Damon, you're going mad, man. Get yourself together. He knew he should, but he had no reason to be together right now.
Bonnie was sleeping, and he didn't have to put on a brave face for anyone. When he thought that he was going to lose her, it had taken all of his restraint not to cry. He hadn't felt the need to cry for such a long time, but then he thought he was going to. But he had to stay strong because if he was weak, then there was no hope. These emotions he was feeling were strange, but he didn't force them to go away. He figured that she'd be less opted to come to him if he was an emotionless stone. "Il mio uccellino," he spoke in a soft voice as he pushed hair from her face. Damon stood for a moment longer before he though, to hell with it. He moved around to the other side of the bed and lay down beside Bonnie. He stretched his arm over her head, and looked down at her with the hint of a smile on his lips.
"I'm going to kill you later," Bonnie said. Her voice was weak, and her eyes remained closed, but he knew that she knew what he had done.
He nodded to himself. "I'm okay with that. Kill me later, but sleep now."
Without warning, Bonnie rolled over, and curled into him with her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and the little witch buried her face into his shoulder. "Don't leave." She said before she was, once again, claimed by sleep.
The vampire kissed the top of her head, and tightened his arms protectively around her. He didn't think into what she said. His voice came unwavering and confident. "Never."