Author's note: It's been a hundred years! I can't apologise enough for the long wait. But I've not forgotten nor abandoned this fic. Not even close. So I'll let you get back to the story, at last. And thank you all so much for sticking with me through it all.

21

SHADOW BURNING BRIGHT

It was quite a nice hospital, thought Mr Fell.
He liked the drive to Whitmore. He liked the nuns puttering about. The sisters of Fell St Mary's made him feel that it was all alright. That, despite everything, there were, still, faint glimmers of civilization left in the barbaric slaughterhouse once known as humanity.

He discarded his wrinkled suit jacket, loosened his tie. If he ignored the rough scar along her neck – two years, but the flesh had never knit back together evenly and the skin still looked raised, inflamed and angry – he could pretend, for just a moment, she was only sleeping.

The doctors had prepared him. Brain activity was decreasing steadily. Mr. Fell shuffled closer and started telling her about his day: Jamison had finally given in and he'd acquired The Richmond Post for Wildfell Publishers; his secretary, Adele, had had a baby boy; the council still hadn't found the bloodsucker responsible for that girl's death at the Grill a couple weeks' back.

"Liz puts all her faith in that jumped up little shit, Salvatore, for all the good it's done," Mr. Fell rubbed the back of his neck. "He's never delivered so much as a pot to piss in," his brow furrowed, "It might be time for a change in leadership."

The door opened and a nurse entered, on her nightly rounds. For his own comfort, Mr. Fell decided he'd go and have a smoke while she tended to his wife.

He wandered down the empty corridors, eventually finding a doorway that led out on to a courtyard. He cupped his hands and lit his cigarette just as a sleek silver car skidded to a halt by the garbage bins. A young woman in dark glasses got out and snaked towards him.

Mr. Fell took the cigarette out of his mouth. "You've left your lights on," he said helpfully. The woman gave him a blank look of someone to whom lights are the least of her worries, and waved a hand vaguely towards the Aston Martin. The lights went out.

Mr. Fell lifted an eyebrow. "What, is it infra-red? Nice." He took a drag, released the smoke slowly through his nose.

The woman smiled at him and it looked extremely disturbing on her. "Are you Jonathan Fell?"

She knew his name? Well, the Fells were an illustrious family in Whitmore; his ancestors having bought most of the town's land back in 1756. "Uh, yes, I am."

The smile didn't disappear. "Ah, good." His eyes widened as the woman's hand went from normal to a dark violet glow, black tendrils of smoke curling around her. "My name is Sybilla," she said and strikes.

XXXX

Through the stars, courage and memories,
I'm looking for your footprints.

"So," Caroline tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder with a flourish. "I've started looking at places to rent in Whitmore, you know, when we go to school there..."

I pray you rest peacefully for all eternity,
This is the middle of the dream.

"...there's no way I'm gonna take any chances with campus housing and risk ending up with the roommate from hell—"

With wings that can't fly,
I run up the hill,

"-this place is perfect! It's called 'Wildfell Cottage' – how cute is that!"

When I stray from the path,
I close my eyes and keep going.

"-so what do you think, Bon?"

The girl in question looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uh, sure..." She tried to speak with confidence but it ended up sounding more like a question than a statement.

"Were you even listening?" Caroline accused.

"Yes!" Bonnie said desperately, "I..."

The blonde blew out an exasperated breath. "No, you weren't. And what is that tune? You've been humming it all day."

Bonnie opened her mouth to respond but, at the dangerous glare being levelled at her, she bit back what was sure to have been a poor denial.

"It's been stuck in my head," she admitted. "I don't know where I heard it." Bonnie gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Care. I guess I have been sort of...distracted."

"Uh, Bonnie..." Elena's eyebrows were practically disappearing into her hairline. She followed the brunette's gaze to see that the straw in her glass was stirring on its own.

"Damnit," Bonnie stopped the straw with her hand and then glanced around anxiously. The other patrons were, thankfully, oblivious.

"Your magic?" Caroline said in a low whisper.

"It's been doing that all week. Since I got back from Scotland," Bonnie gave a frustrated sigh.

"You mean, you're not doing...that?" Elena gestured awkwardly to the innocuous straw, now perfectly still.

"Not consciously, no. Grams thinks it's a side effect from when the..." she cut herself off sharply, biting her lip. Bonnie twisted her straw paper. "It's nothing. I just have to practice more control. It'll be fine."

There was a pregnant pause.

All three girls knew that wasn't what Bonnie had intended to say. Caroline's lips tightened into a thin line. Glancing between her two friends, Elena hoped this wasn't going to be the start of another argument. Tonight was supposed to be about having fun and trying to move past the awkward tension that had been hanging over them since their last night out.

Caroline cracked first.

"Are you really going to pretend you didn't just lie to us, right now?" She snapped. Bonnie raised her chin stubbornly.

"I didn't lie. This is new to me; I'm still learning about my abilities and how to handle them."

The blonde gave a humourless laugh. "Okay, so you didn't lie. But you're not telling us the whole truth."

The witch shut her eyes.
It was the same fight all over again. Caroline pushing for Bonnie to be more open, and Bonnie insisting that she was sharing with her as much as she possibly could.

"I don't know what else to do, Care," she said gloomily. "There are things that you don't know. Things I can't tell you. But I am being as honest with you as I can."

They sat in awkward silence. Bonnie traced the coffee cup ring on the mahogany table. Caroline watched the droplets of condensation slide down her glass.

Elena fidgeted in her seat, her nerves about to snap from the suffocating tension. The large booth suddenly felt far too small for the three of them

"Damon turned me down," she blurted out.

Ok, not the smoothest subject change. But at least it cut through the strained silence. Bonnie's glass shot from one end of the table to the other, startling the girls. Caroline snapped her gaze to her doe-eyed friend.

"What happened?"

Elena cleared her throat. "I was ready. I was ready to be with him. So I told him. I wanted him, I wanted a relationship. He said...no."

"Just no?" Caroline pressed. Damon walking away from an Elena that was free and willing was certainly a turn up for the books.

"He said that he'd been...blind," the corners of Elena's rosebud mouth turned down in a frown, as if she didn't fully comprehend the words, couldn't make sense of them. "He said he didn't deny that he had loved me. But that's done now. And what he felt won't come back. It's time for him to go his way and me to go mine. He told me he wants to find his own life."

"How do you feel about it?" Bonnie asked tentatively. Her straw paper was now folding itself into a tiny origami flower.

"I just don't understand what happened," she sounded bewildered. "He was there, no matter what. And the way he was with me, I thought that he was...that he would always..." Elena trailed off.

Bonnie and Caroline exchanged knowing glances. Clearly, it had never occurred to Elena that the elder Salvatore would grow tired of her treating him like a yo-yo, decide to get his balls back and move on.

"Well," Caroline said cheerily, "I know it doesn't feel like it now, but I think this is one for the win column," she spoke confidently. "Damon's obsession wasn't healthy. And it would never have led to a good relationship between the two of you."

Elena shrugged. Her gaze turned inward, thoughtful.

"He's changed," she said eventually. "These last few weeks, he's been...different somehow; lighter," a note of suspicion entered her voice. "Maybe he's met someone."

Sharply, a memory rose, unbidden, for Bonnie – slamming into her so powerfully, so viscerally, it was like she was experiencing it again.

A darkened bedroom; she and Damon leaning into each other, his scent all around her; his mouth clinging to hers; her arms twining eagerly around his neck; a new light in his eyes she'd never seen before...

"Woah!" Caroline was taken aback as the little dish of nuts exploded, sending cashews flying into the air before dropping all over the table.

Elena gave a shriek, her hands flying up to shield her face from the nutty projectiles.

Two bright pink spots appeared on Bonnie's cheeks.

"You really can't control it, can you?" Caroline said sympathetically. She picked an errant cashew nut out of her curls.

"I'm so sorry," Bonnie leapt to her feet. The lights in the Grill flickered. "I'll get someone to help clean this up."

She was walking towards the bar before they could stop her, desperate to get away from the table for a few minutes.

Chad was stacking glasses behind the bar. He sent one of the waitresses over after Bonnie told him about their mishap. He chuckled at her and three minutes later slid a strawberry milkshake towards her.

"You look like you need it," he winked at her, and turned to serve the next patron.

She was about to take her drink and head back to the table when someone called her name.

"Hello Mr. Saltzman," she greeted her favourite teacher.

"Bonnie, what are you up to?" he said pleasantly.

She shrugged. "Just hanging out. Finals are around the corner so we'll all be too busy studying soon."

Bonnie always felt a little awkward seeing teachers outside of school. Even more so with Alaric Saltzman since he wasn't that much older than the senior class. Hell, he must be about Damon's age – in human years, mind. She realized he was still saying something to her and quickly tried to catch up with the conversation.

"Bonnie?" Crap. Now he looked concerned. She needed to stop taking these mini-breaks inside her own head.

"I'm sorry; you were saying something about my independent study?" She recovered quickly.

"That's right. I finished grading your paper, on Elizabeth I, 'less remarkable for her abilities than the fact that, unlike her sisters, she actually got to exercise them'. That's great stuff," He smiled encouragingly.

"Thanks," her smile was genuine that time.

"Anyway," Mr. Saltzman continued, "I don't know if you've made a decision about college yet, but if you're still interested in that school in Europe, I'd be more than happy to write a reference."

Bonnie blinked. She hadn't thought about that for a long time. There had been so many other things to consume her, like who would be getting the life sucked out of them next, deciding what college to go to seemed almost trivial in comparison.

But she had really, really been excited about maybe studying in Italy or France. Would that even be possible now, with her vampire father's family out for her blood?

"I appreciate that, Mr. Saltzman," She swallowed hard over the sudden lump in her throat. "But I'm not sure I'll be going to college, at least, not in September," she hurried to add on.

"Oh? What changed?" The older man frowned, his gaze searching. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," she said automatically. The light bulb over the bar burst and she heard Chad curse as a drawer shot open, narrowly missing his crotch.

"What in the hell..?"

She tried not to wince.

"I'm just thinking of taking some time off," she started twisting her fingers.

"Well, it's been a busy year for you," he nodded in understanding. "I can imagine its not easy being eighteen, especially when it's just you and your grandmother."

"Grams is great," Her tone came out a little sharper than she had intended, "we're a team."

"I know that, Bonnie. I wasn't speaking against Sheila, and I'm sorry if it seems I'm overstepping," He raised his hands in a placating gesture, "but sometimes, I wonder, if you're not taking on too much," he gave her a sidelong glance, "And if somewhere along the way, that's created a little confusion as to who's the real parent."

She stiffened.

"You'll be graduating soon. You should be excited, making plans; throwing an unruly house party with your friends. Being a kid," he sighed. "But you seem as if you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Bonnie bit her lower lip. The irony of that remark was so thick, it was painful. She shook her head a little.

"With all due respect, Mr. Saltzman, but I think you were right," he lifted an eyebrow, "You are overstepping," She met his gaze squarely. "Thank you for your concern but I think it's time I was getting back to my friends."

Alaric Saltzman spared a glance in their direction. Elena and Caroline were not quite quick enough to hide the fact they were staring. When he turned back to Bonnie, her gaze was shuttered.

"Alright," he said finally, jostling his keys. "I hope I didn't cause offense. I didn't mean to poke my nose in. But my interference was kindly meant."

Bonnie managed a small smile and brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Good night, Mr. Saltzman. See you in class," she said as pleasantly as she could.

Then she stepped round him and went to rejoin her friends. As soon as she sat down at the table, Caroline pounced.

"So..." she drew the single syllable out, "you looked pretty cosy," she fluttered her eyelashes for effect.

Elena shook her head. "Really, Care? He's our teacher."

"Please," she scoffed; her blonde curls bounced. "He's like, a minute older than us! Besides, we graduate in six weeks and he won't be our teacher anymore. The man is hot! Might be time to push the boat out, Bon," Caroline winked.

The girl in question rolled her eyes playfully. "You are ridiculous," she said. But she couldn't quite tamp down the giggle that slipped past her lips.

The girls relaxed and fell into idle chit-chat; the weird intensity of earlier in the evening was finally dissipating. Matt wandered over to bring their food a little later and Bonnie's thoughts turned to what her history teacher had said, about her taking on so much and forgetting about the business of actually being an eighteen year old.

At the time she'd felt a little defensive. But thinking about it now, he had a point. And it gave her an idea.

"Hey Mattie," she said, when he came to bring their dessert, "what time are you off?"

"I get to punch out in thirty minutes," he easily balanced the various dishes on his tray.

"That's perfect," Bonnie beamed. "How about you hang out with us at my place afterwards?"

Caroline immediately started protesting.

"No, Bonnie! This is supposed to be girl's night! You can't just-"

"You can invite Tyler."

The words were barely out of Bonnie's mouth before the bubbly blonde had her boyfriend on speed dial.

"Yeah, at Bonnie's place. In like an hour. And bring..."

She started rattling off a list to Tyler who was no doubt scrambling to make sure he wrote it down and remembered correctly - lest his beautiful girlfriend decide to withhold certain privileges.

"Elena?" Bonnie turned to her brunette friend.

"I'm game," she smiled. "It's been ages since the five of us did anything together, just because. It'll be nice to do something...normal."

An hour later and a half later,Sheila Bennett arrived home to see her house had been taken over by five teenagers: Caroline and Elena were organising an obscene amount of junk food in the kitchen; Tyler was setting up his Xbox in the living room; and Bonnie and Matt appeared to be building some kind of blanket fort, laying out several soft quilts, sheets and goose down pillows.

"I hope this is alright," Bonnie said, once she'd greeted her grandmother. "It was kind of spur-of-the-moment. But I didn't think you'd mind."

Sheila eyed the junk food that Caroline had started to bring out.

"Save me a pack of Twinkies and we're good," she winked at her granddaughter.

"Thanks, Grams," then lowering her voice so they wouldn't be overhead, she added, "any word from Klaus?"

Bonnie had had the moonstone in her possession for two weeks now. She'd been so intent on recovering it so Mikael wouldn't get his hands on it, she hadn't actually thought through to what she would do with it once she did.

"It's not like I can just head over to Mount Doom and destroy it," she'd snarked at Damon, when he'd told her to get rid of it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It wouldn't be that easy. They were dealing with ancient magic.

"He's heading to Helsinki, to meet with a contact. And he has Liam still checking if there's anything of use in his family's extensive collection. Speaking of which," Sheila helped herself to the aforementioned Twinkies, "remind me to ask him if I can borrow Nostradamus' book of prophecy. I could do with a bit of light reading."

"That's what you call light?" Bonnie looked incredulous. She didn't pretend to understand her Grams love of reading and collecting hard-to-find books. "And we were talking about Klaus. Who's this contact he's meeting?"

Sheila kissed Bonnie's cheek. "It's nothing for you to worry about, baby. If there's anything important, Klaus will get in touch. In the meantime, have fun with your friends. I'll be in my study, grading papers." She pocketed one more packet of Twinkies and turned to address the whole group.

"You kids have a good time – but no alcohol," Sheila eyed them all sternly. "You're not yet so big and mighty that I won't put you over my knee."

Matt smirked as Tyler's ears turned a telling shade of pink.

"Yes, Ms. Bennett."

XXXX

Sheila smiled at the picture Matt and Bonnie made, fast asleep amongst practically wall-to-wall bedding.

The others had left just after midnight and Sheila had no objections when Bonnie asked if Matt could sleepover. She tiptoed through the darkened living room. The only light came from the television, where the ball scene from Labyrinth was currently playing. With a chuckle, she switched it off, sure that Bonnie and Matt would be re-watching it in the morning. The film had terrified them when they were younger, but now they could recite the lines right along with Sarah and Jareth.

Bonnie made a sound in her sleep and she froze, hoping she hadn't woken her. But her granddaughter didn't stir and Sheila continued to the kitchen. She frowned at the time on the clock.

3:15 am.

A bottle of water floated out of the fridge and Sheila helped herself to a drink. As she was getting older, she didn't need as much sleep. But this was still ridiculously early.

She'd woken up to a strange prickling feeling at the nape of her neck. Knew what it meant.

She nearly dropped her water bottle.

There it was again. The faintest nudge at the corners of her mind. Like a ghostly caress. Her eyes flashed gold as she tried to latch on to the foreign aura.

It was predatory - nothing but hunger and fury. A splinter of ice ran down her spine.

Somewhere, in the dark, another witch was out there. Taunting, hinting at their presence.

She glanced back into the living room. Bonnie and Matt were still sleeping peacefully. Good.

Ic ȸe bebiede mid ealle strangnesse dæt ou geblæwest ond sierest strange.

Sheila whispered the protective spell and then slipped silently out the back door into the night.

XXXX

It was snowing. All around her.

Everything seemed to glisten like a bed of stars. The crystals clung to her hair and her lashes. She seemed to be floating; suspended in time and space.

A disembodied voice drifted to her.

'I'll show all of it to you, mistress. All the light and darkness, every moment in your past. Some of it shines brightly. And some of it is shrouded in darkness.'

'How do I find you?' Bonnie called to the air. 'Show me your face.'

The world focused to a single, white-hot point. Every physical apparatus of her body seemed to hum, lit from within as if with glowing coals.

'What do you want from me?'

Bonnie gasped.

Elijah. Her father. He was talking to a woman. She was dressed in ceremonial robes and around her neck hung a charm not unlike the triskelion necklace Idris had gifted to Bonnie. Behind her was a simple altar and on it, a chalice brimming with some sort of oil, black as liquid night, as the river in Mystic Falls. And next to the chalice...the moonstone.

The woman's face sobered.

"A sacred promise. It needs someone with fury in his heart and shadows in his smile. Someone restless and clever, brave and true."

Her face was compelling, dark eyes warm and deep. "But understand. You will be transformed. Brought into direct contact with the divine. Bound to the ancients, to him.'

'But not ruled by him?'

'No,' her voice softened. 'Your will is the stronger. Always. Can you do this, Elijah? Are you willing to take the oath?'

'I am willing.' He knelt before her. 'Proceed Mistress Ayanna.'

Bonnie's vision was growing hazy. The world seemed to be dissolving. A searing heat burned through her shoulder. She cried out and her body arched up with the panic of awareness.

"-it's okay, Bonnie. It's alright. I'm here." Something cool was on her forehead. On her cheeks. On her neck.

Bonnie opened her eyes to see Matt's concerned face hovering over her. He was wiping her forehead with a cool, damp towel.

"Are you alright?" His voice was thick, urgent.

Bonnie sat up. She was hot. Her hair was wet and it was sticking to her face.

"I think you were having a bad dream. I tried to wake you and then this happened."

She blinked and for the first time noticed that the entire living room was lit up like a Christmas tree. Tiny flames encased in translucent orbs were floating in the air, gilding everything with a golden glow.

"I'm so sorry, Matt," she apologised.

"For what?" He frowned. "I was worried when I couldn't seem to wake you, and you were burning up. But you're okay now, right?" He put a hand on her forehead to check.

"I am," Bonnie smiled. "But I didn't want to scare you," she glanced pointedly at the dancing orbs of light.

Matt tilted his head up to follow her gaze.

"It's beautiful," he said quietly. "Bonnie, what you can do," he shook his head, "you're amazing."

That sensation, like her stomach was trying to gnaw its way out of her body, ceased at his words.

She pulled him into a grateful hug and with a few whispered words, the floating flames disappeared.

"Amazing," Matt murmured again.

They both got up. Matt went to the kitchen and Bonnie headed to the bathroom to clean up a bit, since she was still feeling rather hot and uncomfortable after the intensity of the dream. She felt much better after she splashed cold water on her face and fixed her hair into two low, loose ponytails. When she came back out into the living room, Matt was sitting on the sofa, two bottles of water on the coffee table. He tossed one two her, watching her with a fond smile, the corners of his mouth twitching. At her questioning gaze, he broke into a full grin.

"You look like a cute eight year old."

Bonnie socked his shoulder for that comment. They sat in companionable silence and she took a sip of water.

"Do you want to talk about your dream?" Matt said after a beat.

Her brow furrowed as the images played in her head. "It wasn't a dream."

Matt looked like he was about to ask what she meant when the front door opened and Sheila Bennett swept in like a hurricane.

"Grams?!" Bonnie jumped to her feet.

It had taken a moment for Sheila to register their presence. Her eyes scanned over both of them, frantically and then she let out a breath.

"Oh thank goodness. You're both alright."

"But you're not," Bonnie's eyes widened at the large blood stain on her grandmother's blouse.

"It's not my blood, baby," she said gravely and then proceeded to the kitchen. A moment later, she marched back out, a small glass bottle with violet liquid in her hand and a small gold pentagram.

"Grams, what's going on?" Bonnie's voice had gone up several decibels with increasing alarm.

"Questions will have to wait," Sheila spoke calmly but her body language was tense.

"Grams..."

"Baby, I need you to listen to me," her grandmother's voice was cool, authoritative. Like a general giving orders to his troops. "Call 911. Get an ambulance and a police car to come to 24 Beresford drive." That was two blocks away. "Tell them there's been an assault."

"What-"

"Bonnie," Sheila cut her off; an edge of urgency slipping into her otherwise calm demeanour. "Just do as I say. And make sure that you and Matt stay inside until I get back. I mean that, Bonnie," Sheila fixed her with a stern gaze, her eyes pleading with her granddaughter.

She swallowed hard. This was serious.

"Ok." Matt was already reaching for the phone.

Sheila was gone then, the door banging loudly behind her. Bonnie was vaguely aware of Matt's conversation with emergency services. He joined her afterwards on the sofa.

They didn't say anything. There was nothing to do but wait.

XXXX

When Sheila returned to the Bennett home nearly two hours later, she wasn't alone.
Liz Forbes and Damon were with her.

Bonnie was coming out of her bedroom when she collided with the raven-haired vampire.

"Are you alright?" he demanded hoarsely, taking her shoulders gently in his hands to stabilize her.

"I'm fine," she gave a gasp of shock, "what are you doing here?"

"I was with Liz when she got the call. It was close to your place and since Matt made the call..." he trailed off, his expression deepened and Bonnie realised what had been running through his head.

"I really am alright."

Something in his tense expression relaxed in a rush of relief, and the sight of that relief touched Bonnie deeply.

"Where's Grams? Did you see her?" she asked, to distract herself and because she really wanted to know.

"She and Liz are talking in the kitchen."

Wordlessly, he slipped an arm around her waist and guided her in the direction of the muffled voices, belonging to Sheriff Forbes and the Bennett matriarch. She didn't need his support, but she didn't pull away. And he didn't release her until she went to greet her grandmother, Sheila hugging her back fiercely.

"I'm fine baby, its ok."

Sheriff Forbes got to her feet. "Alright, Sheila. Thank you for your statement. I may still have one or two questions, but they'll keep till the morning. And if you think of anything else, don't hesitate to get in touch."

Her Grams assured the sheriff she would and then went to see her out. Damon resumed his position next to Bonnie, standing close enough that their hands brushed.

"You okay, Bon?" Matt ventured. And for the first time, Damon seemed to realize that the other boy was there. His gaze narrowed as he eyed Matt's bare feet, boxers and t-shirt, and sleep-rumpled hair.

She managed a smile. "Yeah. It's been a strange night."

"That's putting it mildly," Sheila Bennett rejoined them in the kitchen. Bonnie looked at her Grams face carefully – the soft, tired features, faints lines next to her eyes and beside her mouth. But it was the hollow, numb look in her eyes that made her pause.

"A lot's happened and I will tell you everything," Sheila sighed. "But it's late. So let's talk later, ok? You and Matt should try to get some sleep. And I need to change," she glanced down at her stained blouse. A shudder ran through her.

Bonnie wanted to push for more answers. But she resisted the impulse since whatever happened; clearly put her grandmother through the wringer.

"Alright, later," she kissed her grandmother's cheek. "I love you, Grams."

"You know you're my everything, baby girl," Grams tugged one of her ponytails playfully. Then she turned to Damon. "Mr Salvatore, I'm sure you can see yourself out."

Sheila headed upstairs and Matt was in the living room. So Bonnie stood with Damon on the Bennett's front porch, their shoulders brushing. The sun was starting to come up, the horizon line painted with a faint pink blush. She crossed her arms protectively over her stomach.

"Grams is scared," she murmured. The words sounded foreign to her ears.

"She's worried about you," He reached out to put a hand on her forearm.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice barely a breath.

"It was an unnatural attack. Not a vampire. Nothing like an animal."

"A witch?"

"Looks that way."

"And Sheriff Forbes? Does she...?"

A flicker of a shadow crossed Damon's eyes. "I'm pretty sure she suspects there's something supernatural involved," he admitted reluctantly.

Bonnie looked down at his hand on her arm, eyes trailing up to study his profile.

"How come you were with Liz when she heard about the attack?" She had been wondering about that since she'd bumped into him outside her bedroom.

Damon released a harsh breath. "This wasn't the only attack tonight."

Bonnie tensed but waited for him to continue. "Liz called me a few hours ago. Said a body had been discovered at the high school. Some teenage punks snuck in to smoke pot on the football field. They found the corpse, called it in."

She leaned into him a little more. "Did they ID the body?"

"History teacher. Alaric Saltzman."

Bonnie blanched. A heavy feeling settled in her gut. "But...how...that can't..." she stuttered, and took a breath to compose herself, "I just spoke to him a few hours ago!"

Damon tugged her against him. His arms went around her as the top of her head fit perfectly under his chin. She clung to his leather jacket, her knuckles turning white.

"I don't like this," she said, and only then realised that she was trembling. Damon held her tighter and she knew he could hear how frantically her heart was pounding.

"We've stared down the barrel of a gun before, Judgey." The nickname, however out of place in that moment, was oddly comforting.

"This is different," Bonnie spoke into his chest.

Damon looked down to meet her eyes. His hand came up to her face. Bonnie's heart was pounding again – this time for an entirely different reason. Damon's face didn't seem to move, but it transformed just the same. His blue eyes so deep and soft she could drown in them. He lowered his head, their foreheads resting against each other.

"We're a team, Bonnie," his cool breath ghosted over her lips. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

TBC

AN 2: I hope this goes some way towards making up for the wait. Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome and appreciated :).