A/N: Thank you to those who wished me congratulations on becoming an auntie…again. I officially have ten nieces and nephews so…I'm taking this as another little person to spoil. Here is the latest. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Vampire Diaries.
"Matt, can you take these out to the Dumpster?"
The tired high school student wanted to rest his feet and aching bones, but he turned to Dave, the sous chef and took the two large black trash bags, automatically.
"Sure, man."
"Thanks," Dave said and clapped Matt hard on the shoulder almost knocking him over.
Matt moved woodenly towards the employees' only exit to the back of the kitchen, his eyes barely staying open long enough. It was a good thing he only lived five minutes away from The Grill and getting on the highway wasn't required to get home because otherwise it wouldn't be a good night for other drivers.
Matt turned the knob and opened the door with his back, dragging the bags on the floor. He was outside and the crisp air was enough to slightly wake him up. The lighting back here, of course, was dismal but Matt was familiar enough with the area that he didn't freak out. Still it didn't mean he liked being back here. Mystic Falls wasn't a town overrun with the homeless and down trodden where anyone was liable to turn a back alley into a sprawling mansion. Still, that sense of not being alone licked the back of his neck.
Hurriedly, Matt dumped the bags and turned to go back inside when he heard it.
It was a low, menacing growl. Reluctantly he turned around to see how big the dog was. At least he hoped it was a dog.
"Easy, boy," Matt held out his hand and took cautionary steps backwards. He wasn't that far from the door and if he made a run for it, he should be okay. But one of his teachers told him dogs could smell fear and it usually made them go into attack mode.
The dog, which was a run-of-the-mill Labrador snarled at Matt—viciously.
For every step Matt took it appeared the dog moved in, herding him. And that's when Matt heard a growl coming from behind him.
Tentatively he looked over his shoulder and there it was, a bulldog. Matt gulped nervously and then counted in his head to three.
Once he hit the number he ran to the door sparking the dogs to give chase.
Matt scrambled inside and was able to shut the door, close and lock it. He heard the animals scratching against it as if they were trying to claw their way through metal. Their barks were feral and hostile as if the very thought of humans sickened them beyond belief.
"Dave!" Matt bellowed.
The sous chef came sauntering from some other part of the restaurant looking a bit perturbed, but once he heard what sounded like to him a lion trying to eat the door, his brown eyes widened and he stopped dead in his tracks.
"What the hell…?"
"I don't think it's safe to go outside. Not with those dogs. Are there any customers still in the dining room? We can't have them going outside."
Dave shook his head. "I don't know. I'll tell Chris. He'll probably tell us to call animal control," he shouted above the growls and snarls that sounded through the door.
Just as Dave was about to go and do as he said, the growls stopped and it was immediately silent. Matt and Dave locked eyes.
"Don't open the door," Dave hissed.
Matt snapped, "Do I look retarded?" He rushed out of the kitchen going back into the main dining room. He looked through the windows to see if he could spot either one of the dogs out in the parking lot. So far the coast appeared to be clear but it brooked the question of where did the dogs go?
Matt looked around the restaurant and saw three families still inside, wrangling up their kids, about to head out. Should he warn them to be careful or just chuck it up to a pair of hungry dogs just looking for an accessible meal? He figured he could at least tell the night manager, Chris, and let him handle the logistics of making sure the customers made it to their cars without anything detrimental happening to them.
"Hey, Chris," Matt strolled over to the manager who was busy doing the night's audit. "There were two dogs out back…not friendly at all. Maybe we should escort the last few customers to their cars just in case they're lurking around."
Chris took his nose out of the books and stared at his young employee with a slight frown on his face. "If you want to do it, that's on you, Donovan. As you can see, I'm busy."
Matt shook his head. "Yeah, I can see that. But if someone gets attacked on this property, that makes you liable. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Chris tapped his pencil against the countertop, peeved. The little dummy had a point. But what did he expect him to do if the dogs were out there? Bang them over the head with a frying pan?
Nevertheless, Chris heaved his girth off the bar stool and approached his customers. Some days he could really hate being in charge.
Bonnie rushed over to the large floor-to-ceiling window to peer out. Damon was right behind her, in fact pressing the anterior portion of his body into her posterior. Bonnie rolled her eyes and thrust her butt out to get him to back up but instead he only pressed harder into her.
"Don't hog the window," Damon chastised with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Damon, back up, please," she said as nicely as she could. Bonnie went back to staring out the window the minute Damon put a modicum of space between them. She couldn't pierce the night with her simple, human eyes but she knew the dark shadows that were converging on the house were a pack of werewolves. "Can you see them?"
"Yep, and they are the fugliest things I've ever seen."
"Leave it to a vampire to think about looks right now. We have to keep them from getting in the house."
"Yeah, we do because my insurance adjuster is beginning to believe I'm purposely destroying the house to collect checks."
Bonnie tempered herself. She would look at Damon's dry humor as his way of dealing with his nerves—if he had any to begin with. He knew he was in a world of danger because all it would take was one, innocent little bite and he'd kick the bucket. Dealing with one werewolf would be tricky on its own, but seven—they'd need a miracle. Bonnie began to think.
She headed towards the patio doors. She would not stay in the house to be ambushed figuring the wolves would crash through the windows and attempt to turn her and Damon into ribbons. She would take the fight to them. Just as she went right, Damon went left. Was he leaving?
Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him incredulously. "Where are you going?"
"To get my camera," he rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back. Don't leave this house without me."
Her palms were itching. She was ready to do this not fully wanting to think about where this impending fight might take her. At the last second Bonnie thought to call Stefan and tell him not to come home, but she knew if she told him to stay away it would only hasten his need to be here. Dealing with Damon who was a loose cannon would take all of her concentration. Bonnie couldn't afford to stretch herself too thin.
In two shakes of a lamb's tail Damon was back and armed with a…
"Where in the world did you get a flame thrower from?"
Damon looked down at said instrument. "Oh, you didn't know these were on sale at Home Depot?"
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Bonnie shook her head and allowed a tiny smile to crease her lips. Armed with her magic and Damon's flame thrower, they went outside and stood in the middle of the yard, waiting.
"Judgey?" Damon called.
Bonnie looked over at Damon waiting for what he had to say.
"If this ends badly…for either one of us…" Damon turned the magnificence of his powder blue eyes on Bonnie. "I want you to know that getting to know you, the real you has been one of the best parts of me coming back here."
Bonnie tried so hard not to melt at his confession, but her heart wasn't made of stone. Damon had changed, not a total 180 from the bastard she first met. He was bastardly but he had shown her as of late that he cared about her, saw her as one of his friends, someone he wanted to protect, and of course do other things with. And she wasn't the sort of female that would take heartfelt words and crush them in order to get her point across that she didn't share his feelings, that he didn't touch her in those deep places that were being unearthed as each day passed.
She would accept his words as the truth, of seeing behind the veil, behind the curtain Damon hid his last remaining human emotions.
"I don't hate you as much as I used to, Damon. In fact, I daresay I even like you."
The shadows were drawing closer, not leaving them much time.
"You've surprised me in good and bad ways, but I don't regret having you in my life, Damon. I'm glad we're friends."
Those were probably the nicest words either one of them had spoken to each other within the last year. Damon wasn't big on smiling. He smirked when he was trying to be sneakily charming, but smiling just for the hell of smiling was virtually unheard of for him. But he offered one to Bonnie that was contagious and she smiled back.
Then the howling resumed knocking them out of their Hallmark moment. The air around Bonnie changed and it made Damon sharpen up on everything that made him a vampire. His sight improved, his hearing, and strength broadened. Shoot, he should have sipped a blood bag to give him that much more power, but it was far too late now.
The seven dogs emerged from the shadows. They ranged in color from russet, tawny, grayish-white, to midnight black. All their eyes glowed like flames as their snouts dripped with saliva. These weren't the computer generated mammoth sized furballs that plagued the movie screens. These were wolves you'd see in nature except they could move as fast as a vampire and could tear a human apart easily.
Damon didn't waste time questioning if anything human remained in werewolves. He could really careless and wouldn't waste his breath trying to bargain with an animal that wanted to rip into his jugular.
Yet he figured the one in the middle was Jules. Taunting her might not be best so Damon refrained from whistling at her.
Bonnie balled her hands into fists, her body taut like a guitar string. "Come on," she whispered impatiently.
The wolves stopped suddenly. There was about thirty feet of space separating them.
"Now what?" Damon asked.
One wolf on the far end took off, pounding its paws against the ground, headed right for Damon who quickly pressed the trigger on the flame thrower.
The animal howled against the brightness of the flame against its eyes and had to check before it ran into a wall of fire. It growled ferociously.
Two more wolves broke formation, but Bonnie had anticipated the move. She shouted something in Latin and thrust out her hand. The ground before the animals burst as if a landmine went off. The wolves went sailing through the air before landing on their bellies. The blow wasn't sufficient enough to knock them out, unfortunately, as they were quick to get back on their feet.
The remaining wolves had held back looking for weaknesses.
Bonnie lifted both hands to the heavens, still chanting in Latin. A ring of fire surrounded her and Damon.
However one brave wolf jumped over the wall. Bonnie, again thrust out her hand and the wolf yelped and promptly keeled over.
Thankful for the reprieve, Damon reached behind his back to retrieve a large hunting knife which he promptly threw it towards an oncoming wolf. Damon hit the animal right in the heart.
This caused a pause in the action as the wolves briefly congregated around their fallen mate. Then as one they all turned their attention back to the couple in the ring of fire.
"Werewolves, one word—bitches!" Damon mocked and took out another knife.
The wolves snarled and then they did something neither Bonnie nor Damon expected. They began to retreat, walking backwards towards the woods.
Damon stared at them in confusion, disbelieving they would give up so easily.
Divide and conquer Bonnie remembered. That's what wolves did. They wanted her and Damon to part because together they were too strong.
Damon fully made it up in his mind to go after them. With two wolves dead that left five to deal with and he wanted no survivors.
"Damon, wait," Bonnie cautioned him knowing Damon was about to give chase into the woods. "They want us to separate. "
The vampire sighed heavily. "This ends tonight, Bonnie. I refuse to deal with this crap every full moon cycle."
"I understand all of that, but we have to be smart. The woods is their turf. If we go after them we'll need a solid plan."
"The plan is to kill whatever walks on four feet. Are you coming or not?"
Bonnie sighed and then nodded.
Damon presented his back to Bonnie. "Hop on."
She did and like a bullet out of a chamber they shot into the woods.
All the lights were shut off and Matt, armed with his car keys quickly shuffled to his ride. He conspicuously looked around and did his best to listen for any off sounds. Chris had walked the customers out in one large group, to which Matt was glad nothing tragic happened in the fifteen minutes it took to get everyone out of the restaurant.
Now that he was alone it seemed the darkness was converging on him making him even more paranoid than he was right now.
Matt never locked his truck doors because who would waste their time trying to steal a beat up Ford? He climbed into the cabin, but his hands were trembling slightly and he dropped the keys.
"Damn it," he cursed and felt around on the floor and then froze.
The snarls were back only this time they sounded far closer than comfort. Matt slowly rose his head to peer over the steering wheel and his eyes enlarged.
Six dogs had surrounded his vehicle, each and every single one of them looked like some creature from hell or maybe it was his imagination running away from him.
The Labrador from earlier jumped on the hood of his car and began barking, it's spittle flying and covering the windshield. Matt held in his curses as he snatched his keys from the ground, stuffed the appropriate one in the ignition and gunned the engine.
He stomped his foot on the gas, and surprising the Labrador didn't budge. It was like it had suckers on its paws or something. Matt was sure he made a sight, driving wildly down the street with a dog stuck on his truck.
Matt swerved right trying to shake the animal off but it was determined to literally eat its way through the glass which separated them.
He was vastly approaching a red light and stomped on the break. The dog went careening off the hood and landed with a hard thud on the pavement. Breathing hard, Matt debated on whether to drive off or stop to see if he had successfully killed the dog.
Self-preservation was key and once the light turned green, back tires squealing through the night, Matt took off.
Across town…
It was game night at the Gilbert household. Alaric, Jenna, Jeremy, Elena, and Stefan were in the middle of playing a fierce game of Pictionary when Stefan's super hearing caught the sounds of dogs barking, and not just any ordinary barking, but vicious barking.
"Excuse me," Stefan said and rose from the couch and headed towards the front door. Stefan stepped outside and listened. It was one big symphony of snarls as if all the dogs were taking down a collective enemy.
Elena joined him, brow furrowed. "Stefan? What's wrong?"
He shrugged. "All I hear are dogs barking all over the city. Something is going on."
"What?" Elena asked and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as she heard several dogs in the neighborhood going bonkers.
Stefan shook his head, at a lost. "I don't know."
In another part of the city Caroline Forbes just finished dinner with her mom who was home early on a very rare occasion. The newly turned vampire stilled as she dumped her empty plate in the kitchen sink.
"Mom, do you hear that?"
Liz Forbes paused in clearing the table and listened to what her daughter was hearing. All she could really pick up were the sounds of the neighbor's dog barking incessantly, but other than that there was nothing which stood out to her that she should be listening to.
"What am I supposed to be listening for?"
Caroline didn't answer. She walked out to the backyard and was bombarded with the howls, barks, and yelps of hundreds of dogs. What in the world was going on?
These animals were quick. Damon had three of them literally chomping at his ankles as he ran as fast as he could through the forest. He felt like he had been battling these things all night because dawn was vastly approaching. The sky was becoming lighter.
Earlier he had to abandon Bonnie in a tree. One of them managed to jump on her back and bit into her shoulder. She bled profusely and using so much magic was making her lethargic and sloppy. So it was a good thing wolves couldn't climb trees. For the moment, she was safe.
The tally right now was four dead wolves, leaving the three that were chasing after him. There was a ravine not far from his present location and if he could make it without one of them launching on his back, they would all go careening off the edge and plummet to their death to the sharp rocks waiting below while he jumped to the other side.
He could really shoot himself for not thinking of this earlier.
The ravine was just ahead and Damon used up the last of his reserves, running full steam ahead. He had to time his jump just right so that the wolves would be too busy staring up in awe at his Superman act than attempt to jump the sixty foot ravine.
He grunted as he launched himself into the air, but then something sharp ripped into his ankle, nearly messing up his leap. Damon landed on the other side—barely—crashing into a tree with enough force to almost knock him unconscious, but he got to his feet, felt fire run up his leg which he pointedly ignored and hobbled to the edge. He saw two of the wolves sprawled out against the rocks and slowly they were turning back into their human form.
As his eyes went across the ravine he saw one remaining wolf glaring back at him as it optically flipped him off before disappearing.
Sighing, Damon dropped to his ass. His leg was on fire but he refused to look at it. He'd be all right as soon as he got some blood in his system. His first order of business was to get back to Bonnie. He'd let the vultures take care of the dead bodies that lied at the bottom of the ravine.
Getting back on the other side of the ravine took two tries, but Damon finally made it over, and then he was standing at the bottom of the tree where Bonnie was no longer there.
Where was she?
"Damon."
The vampire in question spun around and faced the young witch. Mud and dirt was splattered on strategic places on her clothes, but it was the blood stain on her shirt which caught and held his attention. Damon walked over to Bonnie and lightly prodded her shoulder to find…it was completely healed.
Bonnie stared up at him sheepishly. "I might not know everything, but I know how to heal my body. I still might need to get a tetanus shot and be tested for rabies," she trailed her eyes over him. "Are you okay?"
Damon quickly nodded and smirked. "I'm virtually spotless. As white as a little lamb."
Bonnie frowned at him. "Okay. What happened after you stuck me in a tree?"
Damon began the trek back to the house. Dawn was virtually upon them. The sky was an interesting shade of dark blue and purple.
"I led the remaining three wolves," he winced and tried not to put too much weight on his right leg and give away his condition, "to the ravine where two of them dropped to their death."
"And the third?" Bonnie asked and surreptitiously looked around. It could still be around despite it was very early dawn.
Damon shrugged. "It took off when it failed to follow its comrades over the edge."
It would be pointless to ask which wolf it was. Jules had been amongst the casualties. Damon had kicked her with enough force that it shattered her ribcage causing one of her ribs to pierce her heart, killing her instantly.
"I took care of the bodies," Bonnie told him grimly. She wouldn't divulge details of what she did and Damon was smart enough to figure it out.
He nodded his head and held the patio door open for Bonnie.
"You should head up and take a shower," he suggested.
Bonnie looked at Damon sharply. He hobbled his way over to the bar to pour himself a drink, but then stopped.
"Damon, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm just tired."
Bonnie approached him and then, took the whiskey canter out of his hand and sat it back down. Then very lightly she placed her hand on his arm and directed him to the sofa where Damon collapsed on it. Bonnie knew where the Salvatore's kept their blood so she headed down to the basement and got a bag.
She still recoiled from handling the package but sucked it up and then cut across the living room. She eyed Damon for a moment as he rested on the couch; his head reclined against the back of the sofa, eyes closed.
Bonnie picked up a crystal tumbler and filled it with blood, and then she punctured her index finger with a letter opener and dropped a few droplets of her blood into the mix. Perhaps her blood would revitalize Damon who always bounced around with an endless supply of energy.
She sat down next to Damon, keeping a respectable distance between them. Bonnie tapped him on the knee with the glass.
Listlessly his eyes opened and he looked at Bonnie before his eyes dropped to the glass in her hands. His throat immediately burned with an unquenchable thirst he hadn't felt since he first transitioned. His stomach cramped violently and he tried his best not to snatch the drink from Bonnie and gobble it down like someone breaking a lifelong fast.
"Thank you," he said.
He was done in three swallows and wanted a refill. But then…something about the blood tasted different, as if Bonnie added a special spice to it.
Damon smacked his lips together and rolled around the aftertaste in his mouth trying to figure out why this blood tasted different, stronger, more filling.
"What did you add to this?"
Bonnie scratched behind her ear. "A few drops of my blood."
His cerulean eyes flew to hers. Bonnie saw as plain as day that Damon was going to lean over and kiss her which catapulted her off the couch.
"I should get home."
Damon stood to his feet. The pain in his leg wasn't as bad as before. He could actually put some weight on it and not want to gnaw it off to relieve the fire that danced in his veins. Perhaps he snagged it on something. At least that's what Damon would tell himself because living in denial always worked out better for him than facing the truth.
"Well, the least I can do is offer you my bathroom to get cleaned up. Do you really want to have to explain your appearance to your dad or…boyfriend," Damon grimaced.
Bonnie stared down at herself. No, she didn't want to have to lie to either one of them on why she looked like she had been on her way to Mordor to destroy the ring of power.
She decided to take Damon up on his offer and headed upstairs to his bathroom.
In his room, Bonnie stood like a statue as Damon moved around getting a robe, a towel and other essentials for her. He turned the shower on for her and allowed it to heat up. When he came back into his bedroom and noticed Bonnie hadn't moved a muscle, he wanted to tell her it was okay to snoop because that's what he did, but he could see she felt awkward and wasn't trying to make a big deal about being alone with him in his room.
"The water should be warm. If you need anything, yell."
Bonnie nodded and waited for Damon to vacate the room. Once she alone, with the flick of her powers she locked the door, as if a lock could keep him out, but it made her feel a little more secure.
Her green eyes looked around his sprawling room. It should be featured in Better Homes & Gardens or something to that effect.
The only thing she could say she didn't like about Damon's boudoir is that it had an open floor plan which meant the bathroom didn't come with walls or a door. She stomped her way inside, stripped and tried her best not to look over her shoulder to see if a vampire dressed in black was leering at her.
Downstairs, Damon went into the library to tidy up. He had to do something to keep his mind off the activity taking place in his bathroom, and it was by the skin of teeth that he didn't ambush Bonnie and join her. Really, other than setting him on fire what could she do to him, and well he had an argument lined up to justify their showering together, it would help conserve water.
The pain in his leg, however, was persistent and he sighed heavily, knowing he couldn't put off the inevitable for a minute longer.
Damon sat down and hiked his leg on the table and rolled back the ripped hem of his jeans. Dried blood was the first thing he saw and then, there it was the bite to end all bites.
"Shit," he cursed softly and then watched as the wound began to heal. Damon's eyes bugged and he waited to see what would happen next—if anything. He certainly didn't feel as if he were about to kick the bucket and it wasn't like he could ask another vampire for tips. There wasn't a vampire manual of What to Expect when You're Expecting to Die from a Werewolf Bite.
Hmm, maybe that was another myth, that a werewolf bite could kill a vampire. His leg still ached, but the teeth impressions were gone leaving behind only his dried blood.
Back in his room…
Damon's showerhead was one of those that trickled down right on top of you instead of spray you in the face. The warm water felt amazing and it helped loosen the tight muscles in Bonnie's body.
She lathered herself good with some kind of shower gel that smelled like gardenias. At first Bonnie kept her mind totally blank. She didn't want to think over the night or the thing she had to do, but unfortunately her conscience decided not to leave her alone.
It had been much more difficult to deal with werewolves for Bonnie. They were still human, had warm skin could actually procreate. The realization that she took a "life" had Bonnie slightly freaking out. When she stared down at her hands, they were covered in blood. Was the blood she spilled tonight purely innocent? Of that she couldn't say with a hundred percent certainty. She had never met the other wolves that joined Jules on her blind quest for justice for Mason. And his death was another that she could tack on her list of acts she regretted. Although she might not have been around during that fatal moment when Damon decided that Mason had lived long enough, Bonnie had left Mason in Damon's care knowing he would kill him. So at the end of the day did that mean she had no problems being an accessory to murder? Did it mean she didn't mind getting her hands dirty if it came down to her life and someone else?
Hastily, Bonnie scrubbed her hands yet the stain of blood still remained. She felt something seize her soul, changing it, whispering corruption to it.
Who was this girl she just became overnight?
The thrill of the chase sang to her like a siren but made her soul yell like a banshee.
The constant reassurance that she did what she had to didn't make her feel any better. Yet what was the alternative? Bonnie was in league with killers. And wouldn't she at some point have to take life?
Ugh, this made her feel peculiar.
Since the blood wouldn't come off her hands, Bonnie resorted to washing and rewashing her body until her skin literally squeaked due to scrubbing away her body's natural oils. Next she focused on her hair, scratching and scrubbing her scalp until it was probably fiery red.
The water was growing cold and her fingers were wrinkled, Bonnie figured she was clean enough and stepped out of the shower.
Damon knocked on the door the minute she was dry and donned in the robe. Bonnie unlocked the door with her powers. She wrapped her arms around her middle trying her best not to tremble despite the fact her skin was warm.
Damon sensed her tension, the fear, and something else probably guilt because it smacked him in the face like a pungent odor the minute he entered his room. In his hands he was able to find some of Elena's clothes in Stefan's room and brought them for Bonnie to change into. She'd have to go without underwear but whatever. They were clothes.
He took one long, calculating look at Bonnie and could tell she was doing her level best not to breakdown, especially in front of him.
Damon tossed the clothes on the bed and approached Bonnie. She wouldn't look him in the eye, but that didn't stop Damon from tilting her chin up with his finger.
"What's wrong?"
Bonnie shook her head and pulled her chin away. She sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed her hands together because they refused to stop shaking. Damon joined her and then reached for her hands, rubbing them between his own.
"You feel guilty don't you?" he guessed. "Bonnie you didn't do anything wrong."
"Please…don't say that. Logically I know they were wolves and they were going to kill us but they were still people too, and I made a promise to my Grams."
"And if Sheila had been in your shoes what do you think she would have done?"
Bonnie stopped and thought for a minute. Grams didn't take mess from anyone and she knew deep in her heart that her grandmother would have done what was necessary to keep innocent people from being hurt.
Yet no matter what pretty paper Bonnie tried to wrap it up in, she still killed.
Damon brought their clasped hands up higher and kissed Bonnie's knuckles. With the pain in his leg fully gone, and this chapter closed he could get back on his other mission.
Bonnie's warm skin called to all of his senses and he was trying so hard not to get hard. Seduction wasn't what she needed right now, but a friend, a real friend. And honestly Damon wasn't as versed in that area as he should be. But he remembered Bonnie had been there for him when really all he wanted was to be left alone.
He would return the favor.
Damon slung an arm over her shoulder and drew her closer. Bonnie was a little stiff next to him but she didn't attempt to pull away.
"Grams would have done what was necessary…I get that. But…I'm not my grandmother."
"If you were that would make this moment pretty awkward."
Bonnie snorted. "When Grams told me she was a witch and I was one too I thought it would be fun. That I'd be like…and I'd hate to say this but I thought I'd be like Sabrina."
Damon stared down at her with an eyebrow raised in the air to which Bonnie rolled her eyes.
"I thought I would be able to cast spells to help me cheat on tests or make people act like fools, you know dumb stuff. I didn't think it would entail all of this. Battling vampires and werewolves and whatever else goes bump in the night.
"I told Stefan that I felt things would come down to me having to choose who lived and who died, and honestly Damon I don't want that weight on my shoulders. And it shouldn't be my decision to make."
"But if you don't make the decision who will?" he questioned.
Bonnie was unsure. "I don't know."
"I get you're human but you're also supernatural. And dealing with the supernatural you kind of have to put the human side of you on the back burner because otherwise this lifestyle will eat you alive. Your guard will be down at the worst possible time and it just might cost you your life. And if you die, what good would that do for anyone?"
Bonnie could understand where Damon was coming from, but she wasn't looking to justify her actions. Or maybe she was.
"Bon...I wouldn't worry too much about tonight. The only time someone in your shoes should worry is if you start to like killing. Then that would be the time to question your morals and ethics."
Bonnie would take heed to his words, but still, she already knew that tonight would stick with her for a long time.
Damon was silent for a while. "Why did you really hate vampires, Bonnie?"
It was a question Bonnie had repeatedly asked herself and one she couldn't provide a definitive answer to.
"I think you of all people should know why vampires left a salty taste in my mouth."
He winced. "Right. It wasn't you I was trying to kill…"
"Still it was no excuse for what you did," she admonished Damon. "But I had a balance of dealing with good and bad vampires. Stefan was a balm I applied to a wound. I don't look at things in matters of black and white anymore because if I did, I wouldn't be best friends with Caroline, and I wouldn't be in a relationship with a vampire." Bonnie sighed and then shifted out of Damon's arms so she could turn on the bed to face him.
Damon adjusted his position as well.
"Did you mean what you said to me the night we all had dinner at Elena's? That my life meant nothing to you?"
Oh god, Damon literally felt his stomach bottoming out before it traveled upwards and got lodged in his throat where it promptly filled with bile. He had forgotten he said that to her.
"Bonnie," he began softly, "okay I'm not going to bullshit you because that's one of the things I like about our dynamic. We can be brutally honest with each another." Pause. "I did mean it."
She didn't flinch at his words but her eyes tightened.
Hastily he said, "But that was only because my head was stuck up Elena's ass and I just wanted to do whatever was necessary to protect her…show her that she had other options, better options."
Bonnie considered his words. "Can I ask you another question?"
Damon nodded.
"What was it about Elena that appealed to you? Was it because she's Katherine's double? Something else?"
The vampire in question sighed audibly and stared up at the wood beam ceiling. "Yeah, Elena shared Katherine's looks and that was about it. She was…the first person who attempted to be my friend, and she showed me that she did give a damn about me. Of course you know that was weird for me because I don't make friends."
"But…you've been around for a while. Doesn't it get lonely? Not having anyone in your life you could turn to, be real with?"
Damon got up from the bed. This conversation was making him slightly uncomfortable because it was asking him to dig deeper than the superficial. He wasn't sure he was ready to be that open and raw with Bonnie. Not while she was involved with someone else. Someone else who was benefitting from her open heart and most importantly her love.
He turned to face her, his hard veneer in tact that he covered up with a cinematic smile. "I'm not human, Bonnie. Humans are social creatures where they need relationships in order to function. I don't. Humans are nothing more than sustenance to me so why waste my time befriending them? Do you go around getting attached to a cow before you turn it into hamburger meat?"
Bonnie got off the bed. "No I'm not talking about you having friendships with humans but with other vampires."
"Vampires suck," Damon balked.
She chuckled.
"No, seriously, we do," Damon went on. "We're always suspicious of each other and we're too obsessed with power that we can't effectively create a union and work together. And I've never needed anyone else except for myself." His eyes turned serious then as he gazed at her. "But now…I do feel like I've been missing out."
Bonnie noticed that the air had changed and she backed up from Damon, now more than ever ready to put on some clothes.
Damon began stalking her again until the back of her legs hit the bed. "Stop running from me," he warned.
"I have to."
"No you don't."
Bonnie shook her head to refute his claim. "If I don't I'll only hurt you, Damon."
He stopped advancing and really looked into her luminous green eyes. Damon loomed closer and then smiled because her heart was hammering a mile a minute. Just like the wolves backing away, Damon did as well, and continued walking until he reached the door where he paused before exiting the room.
"Hey, Bonnie…"
She sucked in a massive breath of air before looking at him.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take."
Damon left the bedroom to give her something to think about.
Bonnie tore through the door of Damon's house and took the stairs two at time until she reached the second floor where she promptly threw the door open.
There he was, still passed out in the same position she left him in hours ago. Bonnie nibbled a corner of her mouth and slipped off her shoes before climbing into bed with Damon.
She got as close to him as possible, kissed his cheek, and whispered, "Awake."
Dark eyes popped open. "What time is it?"
Bonnie offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Its morning, and time for you to get up."
Damon pulled her closer and kissed her lips until Bonnie needed air. "I feel like I've been asleep for days," and then he stretched like a cat against the bed. He examined her closely and realized she was wearing clothes that smelled like her friend Elena. "What have you been up to?"
"Getting into trouble."
In more ways than one, Bonnie thought sullenly but otherwise, placed her head on Damon's chest, and watched the sun continue to rise over the horizon.
Salvatore Boardinghouse
He tossed and turned in his sleep unable to get comfortable. Damon kicked the covers off and then his eyes fluttered open. For a minute he just stared up at the ceiling, his mind replaying having Bonnie in his room, naked and dressed in nothing more than a robe. If he inhaled deeply enough he could still scent her in the air.
Yet his reverie was interrupted by a stab of pain like someone knifed him. Damon choked on his own saliva as he bolted to a sitting position and stared down at his right leg.
"The hell…?" he looked at the nasty wound that seemed to have grown in size now covering half of his lower leg. Dark purple and black veins stretched across his pale skin in angry squiggles. And his skin actually moved, pulsed around the area where the wolf had bitten him.
His world tilted and all Damon could think about was blood, blood, blood, fountains of overflowing blood.
Life for everyone in town, himself included was about to suck.
Chapter end.
A/N: I really wanted to show Bonnie's struggle with taking life or being part of someone's death in a roundabout sort of way because on the show its often overlooked that the people who die are just that PEOPLE and that every death seems to be justifiable. It's not, at least not to the human soul. And because of this struggle she and Damon were able to have a serious talk and were able to address their old issues. On the show Damon is one-dimensional but making him too deep or doing too much self-introspection would be a little OOC, but I think he's probably, after Stefan of course the deepest character or has the ability to be so if the writer's knew how to write that way for him. Most pretty boys have serious issues, lets see them. Don't worry I have no plans in devolving him or turning him into Stefan in order to fit in. So siree. I've talked long enough. Thanks for reading! Love you!
