Chapter Includes/Spoilers/WARNING: mild violence, magic, dreams,
~The Vampire Diaries ~
One Thing
— [CHAPTER 37] —
~ T V D ~
Stefan's head throbbed painfully and he groaned quietly at himself in pity. He felt so exhausted, so drained, his body aching hot like a bruise that he couldn't bring himself to move, couldn't even drag his heavy lids to confirm that he was in a safe place to be a human lump.
He remembered... Bonnie and Sheila, knew that there was no safer place than with two Bennett witches to watch over him... but the fingers running through his hair, the nails gently scratching at his scalp distracted him from the drifting thought sequence and everything faded again.
...
Stefan's nose twitched as the delicious cheesy aroma slowly, but steadily permeated his senses, sending saliva gushing in his mouth and his stomach to gurgle.
He heard Bonnie's chuckle above him. "Grams said that would do the trick, without fail every time."
The fingers continued in his hair so he decided that was permission to stay where he was. He swallowed several times and licked his lips as he contemplated what he wanted to ask first. He settled on the most pressing concern, "Bon?" his voice held a raspy quality.
"Yeah?"
He cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"
The fingers in his hair stilled for a moment before continuing. "Yeah. I'm okay, Stef." She whispered. Wrong, Stefan thought. "How are you feeling?"
He ignored her volley of the question back at him and forced his eyes to crack open as there was the echo of such terrible screaming in his head and Bonnie surrounded by so, so much blood, her expression strained. They were in Sheila's living room, which was about the safest place any human could be, but he had to see her with his own eyes to negate the image in his brain.
He grunted quietly as he shifted onto his back on the sofa, forcing a sad end to her carding fingers in his hair keeping the power of his migraine at bay as he turned his head in her lap to look up at her. Her thumb stroked his creased forehead instead. She looked wiped out. Exhaustion lining her youthful face made her appear beyond her years. Subdued. And a spirit like Bonnie Bennett's should never be that. Stefan had a strong feeling he was responsible.
He remembered last time he had his head pillowed in Bonnie's lap. Trapped in the supply shed at Soak City, John's desiccated body not far away. The reflection didn't seem to bode too well, especially when he spotted the dried blood crusted in the crease of her nostril.
He reached up and stroked her cheek in concern. "You had a nosebleed."
"We're quite the pair then," she pointed out wryly.
"Bonnie." He frowned at her.
"You know the drill," she said in light reassurance. "Just a bit of magic exhaustion."
Stefan swallowed thickly, dropping his hand, fingers fisting the material of his shirt. He grimaced and couldn't bear to look at her for his shame. "Yeah, just like last time."
"Stefan!" she said, taken aback.
He made to heave himself upright from her lap, but even without her intervention, he wouldn't have made it all that far anyway. His body didn't seem to be ready to go full vertical and he dropped back into her lap, the colour his shame and anger had put into his face drained from the weak effort.
"Easy," she murmured, soothing, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "Magic exhaustion isn't a joke, Stefan."
Stefan froze in his stubborn, useless second attempt to get up, muscles tensed and looked at her in confusion. "What?"
"What do you remember?" the witch asked the loaded question.
Stefan slumped back against her again as he thought. "I remember... Sheila telling me to drink... some tea." He said slowly. "The damn magic tea." He realized. "You know," he uttered wryly, "I used to let Sheila practice on me when she was kid. You think I would have learned my lesson by now, but I did ask for some magic tea, didn't I?"
Bonnie looked at him with some concern. "Is that all you remember?"
His green eyes flickered away. "Why don't you fill in the blanks for me so I can reconcile what's in my head, 'cause it feels a lot like my standard nightmare."
Bonnie took a deep, fortifying breath. "There no way to dress this up nicely, so I'm just going to say it..."
"The silence following that ominous sentence doesn't bode well for me," he tried to joke, but his concern skyrocketed as he saw her own shame as her eyes flickered away.
"Stefan, I..." she started, paused, swallowed and said, "Grams discovered something that I missed, something big, something-"
Stefan had the inexplicable thought that this was something he should be sitting down for, not laying, that he needed to brace himself, not just emotionally but physically. In lieu of that, he took her hand not in his hair and laced their fingers, cupping their hands against his chest. "It's okay, Bonnie, you can tell me." He assured her softly.
She took in a big breath. "Grams said when Emily and I brought your soul back from the Other Side, it thinned the veil between our worlds temporarily and another being's soul hitched a ride over with yours."
He blinked at her. "What?"
"Grams called it a Passenger. They're a coven of witches that were cursed a long time ago to be nomads, only able to perform magic when in a host body. The black eyes, that was the Pas-"
"Bonnie." He cut her off. "Are you saying I've been possessed this entire time?"
"I'm so sorry, Stefan." Bonnie blurted, riddled with guilt as she watched several emotions play across Stefan's expression as he attempted to wrap his head around her confession. "It hid from me and I didn't even think to look for something like that-"
"Stop." He said and found the wherewithal to sit up with a grunt this time. He hung his head, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply against the light-headedness at his change in equilibrium. He had many questions but the one most prominent on his mind was: "Is it still in me?"
"No. No." Bonnie promised, squeezing his shoulder. "It's gone, Stefan, it's gone."
"The tea?"
Bonnie bit her cheek. "Partly. I had to go into your head to root it out."
He looked at her sharply. "You what?" he stood abruptly, dislodging her hand. He momentarily wobbled; she made an aborted move to jump up and steady him when he waved a warding hand at her. "Bonnie, you went into my head?" he repeated in a tight voice.
"It was the only way," she tried to explain.
"And the part where you didn't even tell me?" he accused. Angry. Upset because doing what he did to her when he let her check his aura was bad enough, but to have her vulnerable in the haunted house that was his mind? It wasn't even about his own shame and disgust at what she would see, the truth about him revealed, but the extreme danger she had put herself in, that Sheila had instructed her in.
"We had to act fast, catch the Passenger as unawares as we could." Bonnie said. "It needed to be done and you never would have agreed otherwise."
"You're right," he practically snarled, making her flinch. "I wouldn't have. Sheila!" Stefan shouted.
Sheila came from the kitchen in her own, unhurried pace. "I don't appreciate being yelled for in my own home, boy."
Stefan ignored the scold. "How could you let her do something so dangerous and reckless?"
Bonnie made an affronted noise. "Excuse me?"
"You think I don't know the strength of my own granddaughter?"
"That's not-" he denied before cutting himself off with a growl of frustration and turned to the younger witch. "Bonnie, you have to understand." he plead. "They're my demons, I should be should be the one to fight them. You shouldn't have to keep saving me, everyone should just stop-"
"No, Stefan," Bonnie countered evenly, "You need to understand. This wasn't just one of your personal demons, okay? This was a bad soul trying to wear you down and take control, and I'll be damned if I was going to just sit by and let that happen!" she put her foot down. "I love you, Stefan, that's never going to change. The world doesn't belong on your shoulders, Stefan, no matter how man times you keep trying to put it there. You're not alone and you don't have to be. Just because it's happening to you doesn't mean no one should help you. I will always help you." She swore, conviction burning in her green-flecked gaze.
"And I don't want the people I love getting themselves hurt and killed doing something useless!"
"Useless?!" Bonnie demanded. "It's not u-!"
"I'm not even real!" he shouted, panting. Tears burning in his own gaze.
Bonnie shook her head in confusion. "Stefan, what-?"
It hurt, but it was with a sort of resigned acceptance. "I'm not- I'm just the result of some magic spell churned out on Nature's assembly line. I wouldn't exist otherwise. Just a repeated spell with an expiry date. I'm not even real." He whispered.
Before Bonnie could contest that, before Stefan could turn and head for the door, Sheila stepped in front of him—and clipped him round the head.
"Ow!" Stefan uttered in surprise, blinking rapidly.
"Oh, you're real enough, baby boy." Sheila said not unkindly. "Courtesy of Crazy Girl. Want to try and contest that reasoning?"
Stefan stared at the woman for a moment before he let out a bark of wet laughter. "No," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "No, I'm good." He glanced over at the other Bennett, who looked furious herself. "Bonnie, I-" he started and gave his head a little shake. "Look, none of this is your fault, okay? You didn't even know that Passengers existed, Bonnie-"
"God, Stefan!" she exploded in pure frustration, not sure if she wanted to tear her own hair out or Stefan's. "You don't have the sole claim on mistakes! The reason this happened to you is because of me."
"Both of you, settle down." Sheila said. "I'll not have a screaming match in my home." She looked between them and waited. "Stefan," she addressed the brunette when they quieted, "This was Bonnie's responsibility, she made a mistake," Stefan made to protest but the witch's raised hand silenced him, "But she played her part, made it right. Her debt is paid."
"There was never a debt," Stefan countered quietly.
"You know that's now how we do things, baby boy. A Bennett never shies away her mistakes. Now, go wash up in the bathroom, Stefan, you know where it is. Dinner's almost ready and I'll have nothing but civil tones from either of you. Child, set out the table. Off you go."
Stefan and Bonnie finally broke their gazes away and uttered "Yes, ma'am"/"Yes, Grams" before going to their separate tasks.
Stefan went upstairs at an aching pace, hand alternately griping and gliding up the banister now that his adrenaline burst from the argument was dying down. He walked through the bathroom door and stopped short as he found himself instantly facing his reflection in the mirror over the sink across from the door.
He sighed and carded his fingers through his mussed hair, the one side flat, the other side decidedly not from Bonnie's combing fingers. That was the least of his problems.
Head bowed, he braced his hands on the edge of the basin, knuckles white. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and made himself look up, look into his own eyes. The last time he made himself do this, he shattered the mirror—twice—but this was one mirror he couldn't smash. His eyes had been black both times, too. So, were they his actions or the Passenger's?
He didn't remember ever having any blackouts... but there had been the moment in Damon's room after his episode in the dining room and his attack on Alaric. Stefan didn't think he would even know how much of everything he'd been through was his own mental instability or the Passenger trying to break him down and take control.
God, it was still too bizarre to wrap his head around and honestly felt like a cop-out. Like he was trying to justify his actions and reactions, avoid responsibility, make excuses for being... weak.
His eyes burned. "Heh." He scoffed derisively at himself, lips curled as he sneered at his reflection.
Black eyes, green eyes, blood eyes; it didn't matter anyway, he could never claim any of them as his own, could he? Passenger, Doppelganger, Ripper. Even if he wasn't real, just some made up person, no one could duplicate Damon, Ric, Bonnie, and Elena. No one could make him think they weren't unique and real. And as long as they were, Stefan swore he wouldn't lose himself.
He splashed water on his face and combed wet fingers through his hair.
He saw movement behind him in the mirror and he flinched, spinning around only to slump back against the sink in relief as he realized it was just Bonnie, not them. He must have left the door open. "You scared me, Bonnie, I thought you w-" he cut himself off and gave his head a little shake, droplets of water flying from the tip of his nose.
"Sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile, hand on the doorjamb. "I just wanted to check in on you." A beat of silence. She chewed the inside of her cheek. "I don't regret helping, just how I had to go about doing it."
"I know." He agreed and sighed.
Bonnie stepped into the bathroom. "I really am, Stefan. I know how you feel about that stuff after everything Katherine has done to you."
"Still just trying to wrap my head around it, I guess."
She took his hand and pulled him down beside her on the bathtub edge. "Come on, Stefan, talk to me. I was in your head, remember? I saw-"
"How messed up I really am?" he finished for her. "I think I just have too many voices in my head already for another one to make a difference."
She gave him a look. "I didn't know that you had another brother."
Stefan's brows rose in surprise. "That's what you want to know? Out of everything-"
"I didn't see all that much, Stefan." Bonnie promised. "The Passenger tried to throw me around your memories, distract me but I pushed through it, focused on you and I was pulled to your core. It was-" she shook her head, swallowed at the memory of Stefan on that dais and refocused. "His name was Dominic, right? Did you know him well?"
Stefan stared at her for a moment, searching, his hand clasped in hers in her lap. He honestly hadn't thought of his half-brother for a long time. "As you know, I was sick as a child, and after having me, my mother fell into ill health as well and was unable to bear more children—and my father looked at the two sons given to him: his eldest, impetuous and not fit to take over the family business; and his youngest with a weak constitution and a fantasist, and decided they weren't good enough.
"So, Giuseppe had an affair with one of the maids, gave her a house and allowance to raise his future heir."
"Asshole," Bonnie muttered.
Stefan couldn't help grin at that. "We only met the once as children. It was pure luck that we ever did. I was sick with one of my fevers when I accidentally discovered his existence.
"Father had sent Damon away on an errand, I was sick and confined to my room and he'd sent for Dominic and his mother. I wandered from my room in search of Damon and followed the voices instead. I saw him through the posts of the stair banister into father's office. I had honestly thought it was just one of my fever dreams." He sighed. "Giuseppe sent Dominic abroad for an education. It was around the same time that I stopped falling sick and he focused his attentions on me because I gained prospect again in his eyes. Similarly, his disdain for Damon only ever grew, because of how... soft he was towards me and irresponsible in everything else."
"That was really the only time you met him?"
"No." Stefan shook his head. "It was the only time we met when I was human."
"So, what happened?"
"After I transitioned, after Damon left me for the first time, after I found Lexi and she got me straight... I tracked Dominic down. I brought him home to Mystic Falls and told him the truth. He took the Salvatore name and fortune, Giuseppe's place on the Founders Council. He married, had sons of his own who took over and thus began the Salvatore Family's dirty secret of the Original Salvatore Brothers." Stefan didn't have to wonder how many members of family had died or been killed for his need to come Home. 12. It may not seem like many, but they weighed heavy. And the resulting strangers were innumerable. He chuckled dryly, "Just more of our sordid family history."
Bonnie squeezed his hand. "Do you regret finding him again?"
"No." Stefan answered softly.
"Then there's nothing to be sad about," Bonnie gave a small smile and he nodded.
He bit his lip in the silence. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about-"
"Do you want to talk about it?" she challenged. Stefan pursed his lips. "That's what I thought." Bonnie chuckled.
Stefan's mouth quirked before he turned solemn. "Are you really okay, Bonnie?"
"Nothing some comfort food, meditation, and sleeping for two days won't solve." She promised him. "It really is a regimen I recommend. And one of those we can do right now." Stefan's stomach gurgled at the reminder of the delicious aroma that suffused the air. She patted his stomach with a grin. "I think I know someone who agrees with me. Come on," she stood and pulled him up after her. "Bennett's Cheesy Baked Macaroni Casserole waits for no man!"
Stefan chuckled and followed after her downstairs and to the kitchen where Sheila was just pulling the casserole dish out of the oven. Stefan inhaled the warm aroma deeply, mouth watering. "It smells delicious, Sheila."
"Of course it does, boy." Sheila said. "Now sit."
Stefan did. Sheila dished out the gooey elbow macaroni and Bonnie served the dishes before taking her seat to his adjacent right, leg tucked under her. Despite the rumbling of his stomach, Stefan couldn't help but take note at the heaping size of his serving and couldn't help but remember Bonnie and Alaric's comments about his eating habits since returning from Savannah.
Bonnie caught the assumption in his green eyes. Her hand laid on his drew his attention. "Comfort food, Stefan." She reminded him. "And there ain't no food more comforting than Bennett mac n' cheese." She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "And if you hadn't noticed, mine's just a big as yours." Bonnie's fingers drummed momentarily against his knuckles before her hand retracted and she picked up her fork, digging in. "The best, as always, Grams!"
"She'll put herself into a food coma before she's done," Sheila told Stefan. "Me, I'm just saving room for that cake."
Stefan chuckled quietly and picked up his own fork, taking his first bite. He had to close his eyes as he chewed. Not only was the gooey mess in his mouth cheesy heaven, it brought back old memories with the rarity of them being all good. Why the hell had he been trying to spoil it? Bonnie was right, he couldn't think of a more comforting food. Nothing he knew in his 162 years could ever beat it out.
He swallowed and licked his lips. "It's still how I remember it," he murmured, opening his eyes. "Just like how Amelia used to bake it."
"No need to mess with gooey perfection, Stefan." Sheila informed him. "Mama would roll in her grave if I even gave the thought, then she'd whup my ass from the Great Beyond."
"She would, too." Stefan agreed fondly and dug right back in with an appreciative sound.
"Mm!" Bonnie made an agreeing and equally appreciative sound as she speared some noodles from his plate with her fork, her own plate already licked clean.
"Hey!" Stefan grabbed her hand, stopping her fork's trajectory to her mouth. "That's mine." He leaned forward, mouth closing over the prongs, claiming the stolen morsel before sitting back and returning to his meal.
"That's a little excessive!" Bonnie complained.
"So is being grabby at my food. I told you I don't like sharing from my plate." He reminded her and held her gaze as he ate a forkful from his plate.
"What happened to sharing is caring?"
"We back in primary school?" he laughed at her pout, finishing the last bite.
Sheila rolled her eyes at the pair. You wouldn't think one was 162 years old and the other a powerful witch by watching them. She put her plate in the sink and moved the casserole dish from the stovetop to the table between them. "When you're finished, there's dishes to be done." And she left them to it.
They had a stare down over the still bubbling dish, narrowed slits of green met. Stefan had his eye on the corner, the cheese browned and crispy. Metal gleamed as they made their move, claiming their section of the leftovers. They crossed forks, prongs in a lock.
"Really, Bon?"
"The crispy corner's the best part!"
"Sharing is caring." He used her words against her.
She considered him. "I suppose I do love you enough for it."
He chuckled and she smiled. "Love you, too, Bonnie."
There were simultaneous moans as their lips closed around fork prongs. It was soon followed by twin groans as forks clattered into the empty casserole dish between them and they slumped back in their chairs to relieve the pressure on their bloated tummies. They held each other's hand in support.
"Worth it." Stefan uttered.
"Agreed!"
They shared a chuckle.
Stefan yawned hugely. "Is it time for that two day hibernation, yet?"
"I wish," Bonnie said. "Come on, there are dishes to be done." She heaved herself onto her feet with a grunt, tugging his arm. "Nap time after."
Stefan washed the dishes and Bonnie dried. Stefan was feeling lethargic, his physical and metal exhaustion from his mind magic battle, but coupled with being stuffed with comfort food, it eased the post battle paranoia and he was really just set on the nap Bonnie mentioned. Bonnie seemed in the same state of mind as him, leaning against the counter, her green-flecked gaze half-lidded, wavering into him. Finally, he pulled the plug to drain the sink before turning to her and hugging her against his chest.
"Mm." She leaned her weight against him, eyes closed, face pressed into his chest. She felt his heartbeat, breathed him in and sighed contently, relaxing against his strong frame. There was just something so safe about being in Stefan's embrace.
His cheek rested against the top of her head, an arm wrapped around her waist, his hand cradling the back of her head. "What happens now?" Stefan whispered into her hair.
"Without the interference of the Passenger and the excess magic in your blood, it should all fall into proper place fairly easily." She told him, turning her cheek against his chest. "You just have to let it."
That was typically easier said than done, so he focused on something else. "What about Damon?" he couldn't help but wonder, the worry had been quietly, but consistently nagging at him in the back of his mind. "Will this influence the effect my blood has had on him?"
"It shouldn't be a problem." Bonnie sighed. "I'm not worried, but if it would ease your mind, I can check." She offered.
"No!" Stefan said forcefully, arms tightening around her. "No," he repeated, quieter this time but no less firm. "I trust you, Bon, but no aura checks, not right now."
She squeezed back. "Okay." She agreed. "Come on, I'm asleep on my feet." Bonnie urged softly, leading him from the kitchen and collapsing onto the couch with him. "Just a little nap and I'll drive you home, 'kay?" She promised with a yawn.
It pulled a corresponding one from the brunette. "Just a little one."
"Don't judge me for this right now," she ordered him, hands reaching back between her shoulder blades to unhook her bra. She wrestled her straps off through her sleeves and pulled the undergarment out from under her shirt, tossing it onto the adjacent chair with a sigh of relief. "It needed to happen and I trust you to leave it between us."
"Hey, no judgement from me. Powerful witch has gotta do what a powerful witch has got to do."
"Damn right." She murmured, snuggled against his side with a sigh and fell asleep.
Stefan chuckled, wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her hair, let her scent lull him from the earlier adrenaline spike and followed. Just a power nap to hold him over until he went back home and then it was the rest of the weekend for him before the real world started back up again in the form of exams starting Monday.
...
Stefan rubbed the petal between his fingertips and thumb before he pulled it carefully from the bud. The blood red petal was silken against his lips. He inhaled its fragrant scent—and sneezed as Bonnie's hair tickled his nose. Bonnie yelped, startled awake, and crashed to the floor off the coach with a groan.
"Shit. Bonnie, are you okay?" he grasped her arm and pulled her back onto the couch, sitting up beside her.
She just groaned again, slumping back heavily. "Why did you wake me up?"
"Sorry." He rubbed at his eyes. "I was dreaming about a rose and it made me sneeze."
Bonnie snorted. "That's a new one."
He flashed her a wry smile. "For me, too. I feel like crap. I thought the nap was supposed to help?"
"Welcome to the world of magic exhaustion." She patted his knee.
"You keep saying that," Stefan pointed out. "But I don't have magic. So, how can I have magic exhaustion?" Bonnie made to respond before Sheila made her appearance from the kitchen.
"Ah, you two are finally awake, I see." Sheila noted, setting the tea tray on the table. "I made you some tea before you go."
"Magic tea?" Stefan eyed the cosied pot warily.
"Just a cup of tea, baby boy, that will clear the cobwebs from your minds and prevent my baby from crashing headlong into a tree because she fell asleep at the wheel."
"When you put it like that—magic tea." Stefan pointed out, but accepted the cup and handed Bonnie hers.
"Thanks, Grams." Bonnie took a sip of tea before answering Stefan's previous concern. "You did have magic, Stefan. All the magic that you absorbed from the spell we performed to bring you back. And when I... took that away, it was like you experienced your own magic withdrawal."
"That makes sense." Stefan agreed, drinking his tea. He didn't catch the look Sheila sent across at Bonnie, who glanced away and drank her tea. "Maybe I should just call Ric to pick me up," he offered. "If you feel anything like I do, and Sheila's comment earlier... you shouldn't be driving."
"I'm okay, Stefan." She promised, putting her empty cup back onto the tray. "Grams' tea did exactly what it was supposed to. Just give me five minutes and I'll be good to go." Bonnie disappeared upstairs, but not before quickly snatching her discarded bra from the chair.
Sheila refilled his cup when he leaned forward, about to set his cup down. He got the message and didn't complain, sipping the fresh cup. "What you said before," Stefan asked Sheila quietly, "Was that true or just a ruse for the Passenger?"
"True, baby boy," Sheila assured him sadly. "But now, without a unchecked access to a source of magic, being the excess Bennett magic in your blood and the Passenger possessing you, all that should abate. That doesn't mean it won't happen, Stefan. Even with you plans to become a vampire again—which you know my opinion on—this is what, who you are now and you can't just ignore that. You need to come to terms with that. Accept yourself as you are because it's the one person that you're stuck with for eternity, guaranteed."
Sat on the edge of the sofa, Stefan sighed softly, letting her words sink in as he stared into his tea. There weren't truer words in the world, he knew from personal experience because he'd tried to be everything that he wasn't and it never worked out for anyone. No one was doing this to him but himself and he couldn't just brush being a siphon aside because he perceived it to be a temporary situation.
Sheila's pat on his wrist drew him from the introspection. "Don't worry, Stefan, Bonnie'll help you along. She'll be a good teacher. I'm busy enough teaching the ignorant three times a week, but I'm always here if you need something, baby boy. And a visit about nothing from Stefan Salvatore is always welcome."
Before Stefan could form an apology for that not so innocuous final statement, Bonnie overheard on her way downstairs and pointed out slyly, "We never did actually go through with those plans for bowling, just the three of us." She perched on the couch arm next to Stefan and stole his tea, taking a sip.
"And what do you have to say to that?" Sheila wondered of the brunette.
"I think it would be a death wish to deny not one, but two Bennett witches." Stefan pointed out wryly. "Not that I would even think to in the first place—even though I know you cheated the last time we played and used magic." He levelled the old accusation.
Bonnie's brows shot up in surprise. "What? Grams, you didn't!"
Sheila gave him an disappointed shake of the head. "Thirty years and still with the accusations."
Stefan scoffed. "You know what you did."
"Well, if my granddaughter is as good of a teacher as she is pupil... it will be an even playing field the next time we do, won't it?"
Stefan chuckled. "Sneaky witch."
"Well, you really do learn something new everyday." Bonnie drained the cup and set it on the tray. "We should get going. Thanks for the tea, Grams." She gave the woman a hug. "Good night. Love you."
"Love you, too, baby. Drive safe."
"It was really good to see you, Sheila." Stefan murmured, pecking her on the cheek as he pulled away from the hug.
"Don't wait so long next time, I don't think either of us has the time for that nonsense."
Stefan sighed. "I won't." He bid her goodnight, closing the front door behind him. "Are you sure you're okay to drive?" he asked Bonnie as they walked to the car.
Bonnie snorted. "And let you drive? Why would I let you drive my Prius when you'll never let me drive your Porsche?"
"Did you not just hear the absurdity of that sentence?" Stefan wondered. "Maybe you really shouldn't be driving."
"God, you are such a guy over your car. Just get in." Bonnie disappeared into the driver's side.
Stefan clipped his seat belt in. "You and Elena keep saying that like it's a bad thing."
"It implies that you don't trust me or Elena." Bonnie pulled out of the driveway into the quiet residential street.
"What are you talking about? I trust you and Elena with my life!"
"Your life but not your car." Bonnie pointed out, "Where's the logic in that?"
"I don't trust anyone with my car—or my bike, for that matter." He countered. "There's no significant, deeply emotional story behind it; just that when I saw it at the showcase, fresh from the assembly line... I really liked it, knew I had to have it. It's the only thing I ever used my compulsion to own. So, what if Damon calls it a 'grandma car'? It's all original. I do the maintenance myself." He shrugged, "So, yeah, maybe I am a guy about my car."
Bonnie glanced over at him. "So, you like cars?" she concluded.
"Why? Are you fishing for a compliment on your... Prius?" he teased.
"Hey!" she protested. "This is a great car, okay? How about we start with the outstanding fuel economy and end with heated seats?" she challenged him.
"Hey, I get it." He held up his hands in supplication. "You're a guy about your car, too." He chuckled.
"Shut up." She laughed, whacking his shoulder.
"Hey, passenger here, eyes on the road. You're a responsible driver, aren't you? This is a Prius, after all, show some respect, Bonnie."
"Oh, funny guy, aren't you?"
"It's slow-going, but I think I'm getting there."
She shook her head in amusement. "So, I guess going to see Grams wasn't so bad then, apart from the whole..." she waved her hand.
"Being possessed, thing?" Stefan summed up.
Bonnie grimaced. "Yeah, that. God, Stefan, I'm-!"
"Nothing." He squeezed her shoulder. "I don't blame you, Bonnie."
"Yeah, well, I blame myself."
"Please don't. You'll only make me feel guilty about making you feel guilty, and it's a vicious circle that we don't need to be stuck in."
"I know. You're right. It's just easier said than done."
"All the important things are."
Bonnie groaned. "That's heavy."
"That's knowledge."
"Okay. I get it. Just... stop." She pleaded. "I don't have the brain function for this fortune cookie wisdom you're laying down on me hard."
Stefan gave a faux gasp of offence. "Are you accusing me of plagiarism, Bennett?"
She sent him a smirk. "If the cookie crumbles."
"Oh, wow." Stefan put his hand over his heart. "I think I'm going to need a minute to let that one bake with me."
"You're on fire tonight, aren't you?"
"Must be the Prius air."
Bonnie just snorted at that with a shake of her head. She slowed to a stop as her high beams reflected back at her as a pair of eyes from the side of the road. A moment later a buck bolted across the road.
The brunette cleared his throat. "Can I... commune with the dead?" Stefan asked quietly and Bonnie blinked over at him, taken by surprise at the question. "Now that I'm a witch, could I... séance with Lexi?" there was a desperate hope in his forest green eyes.
"That's not a good idea, Stefan." Bonnie denied him gently.
"Because I'm a Siphon?" Abomination.
"No. Because to séance, your essence goes to the Other Side and while it stays tethered to your mortal body, with what happened to you, me and Emily using magic to pull you back to yours, I'm afraid that with you left so exposed and vulnerable like that on the Other Side, the other witches might try and keep you there."
"Oh." He uttered. That was a fucking scary thought and though genuine, he still but couldn't help but feel the crushing disappointment. He should just be content knowing that she was out there, still watching out for him and that she still had Sheila's company, too.
Bonnie patted his knee and gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Stefan."
He squeezed her hand before she reclaimed it. "Don't be."
The rest of the drive was spent in silence.
Bonnie pulled up the Boarding House drive and Stefan realized too late that they didn't discuss how much they were going to tell the others.
Stefan knew there was going to be blowback on this whole Passenger mess, and it was going to all be directed back at Bonnie. He knew without a doubt how Damon was going to react. Like him, when Elena found out, she wouldn't blame Bonnie for it. Ric was going to be a 50/50 mix. Stefan just thought it was useless information that was going to start yet another needless fight.
The clatter of pool balls gave the location of Damon, but Alaric trotted down the stairs to greet them. "Hey, Bonnie."
"Hey, Ric."
"Hey, you." Alaric kissed him.
Stefan kissed him back. "Hey, yourself."
"Hey, my dinner, didn't expect to see you a second time around." Damon interrupted in Damon fashion. He abandoned his game of pool and refreshed his tumbler. "So, are you all magically fixed after your visit to the Grand Master."
"Yeah, practically." Stefan glanced at Bonnie, trying to convey his desire on the matter, but it didn't matter as she threw herself in front of the one-man firing squad known as his big brother.
"I messed up." Bonnie confessed.
Damon scoffed. "Look at my face, that's my shocked expression at your incompetence, Bennett. So, what misconception was it that you had us believing this time?"
Bonnie glared, but rose her chin. "The black eyes that you failed to tell me about until now."
"What do you mean?" Alaric asked. "Do you mean Stefan's not a witch? That they're something else?"
"Yes and no." Bonnie answered the history teacher but her gaze stayed on Damon. "Stefan is most definitely a witch, he's what is called a Siphoner, a unique anomaly," Stefan couldn't help but quietly snort to himself, "the easiest way to describe it would be an inverted witch."
"And the 'yes' part?"
"Nope, that pretty much sums it up." Stefan said.
"Heh." Damon scoffed. "Yeah, I don't think so, brother. She wants to confess her sins, let her confirm everything I've ever thought about her abilities be proven true."
"Unlike you," Bonnie said superiorly, "I admit my mistakes and learn from them."
"Oh, really? How many lessons do you need before you stop failing my baby brother, hm, little witch?"
"Don't call me that." Bonnie uttered.
Damon smirked at the chink. "What? Little witch?"
"I said don't call me that!" Bonnie shouted.
Damon's glass shattered in his hand at the involuntary reflex as his muscles seized at her pain infliction, vessels in his brain bursting. He dropped to his knees, teeth gritted as he groaned.
"Jesus!" Alaric exclaimed, jumping back from the vampire on the off-chance Bonnie's anger negated her control and it decided to jump over to him. And he knew better than try to get in the middle of the Bennett Witch and Salvatore Vampire.
Stefan flinched away, not sure at what affected him more; the Passenger's nickname for Bonnie or his brother's pained groans. Until he couldn't listen anymore and he did what Ric wouldn't, stepping in-between the pair. "Bonnie, hey. Come on." He cupped her face with both hands, breaking her fixation.
"What the fuck!" Damon growled, panting as her magic attack was cut off, his true-face contorted into a snarl, blood dribbling over his upper lip. "Took you long enough, brother."
"Just don't call her that, okay?" Stefan told him before turning his focus back to the witch. "You're okay, Bonnie. I'm okay." He promised.
Focusing on his calm, assuring gaze, she took a breath and slowly exhaled. There was life in his forest green eyes, just like it thrived in the reality of the colour's name. His skin was unblemished by lacerations, abrasions, burns; golden instead of painted in blood. "Sorry." She whispered to him.
"It's okay." His thumbs stroked her cheeks.
"Ahem." Damon cleared his throat, offended.
"What the hell is going on?" Alaric asked the pair, gaze flickering to the other vampire.
"Speak words. Now." Damon ordered, pulling himself to his feet. "Before I decide a magically induced migraine isn't going to stop me from tearing into your pretty little neck."
After assuring to himself that his friend was indeed alright and herself again, because he couldn't not, had to check on his brother.
Damon regarded him with narrowed eyes as his baby brother inspected his bloodied hand before his gaze flicked over his shoulder. "You owe me a crystal tumbler." Damon said.
"I'm not the one that broke it." Bonnie didn't offer an apology. It would be a cold night in Hell before she ever apologized to Damon Salvatore.
"It was this or your trachea. Be glad."
Instead of saying anything, Stefan pulled the shard from his healed flesh a little more roughly than he might have otherwise, making the vampire hiss. He gave Damon a warning look and tossed the piece onto the tray on the side table.
"Ooh, I'm so scared." She couldn't help but mock him.
"It only takes one, Bon Bon." He barred his fangs.
"You've had your shot, Damon Salvatore," Bonnie responded in kind, unphased by the threat. "The first time you tried to tear into my 'pretty little neck'. And you'll never have another." She assured, her own gaze level.
Stefan sat on the couch with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face, unintentionally smudging his skin with his brother's blood without realizing. "I think Damon learned his lesson, Bon." Stefan said and Bonnie refrained from commenting about old dogs. "Go ahead." Alaric perched on the cushion beside him.
"Alright." Bonnie inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily. "When Stefan's eyes glossed black, that wasn't Stefan."
"What does that mean, Bonnie?" Alaric demanded.
"When we brought Stefan back from the Other Side, another spirit hitched a ride. Ironically called a Passenger, a witch from a cursed coven called The Travellers. They possess a host in order to practice magic, but they have a trigger phrase that needs to be spoken in order to take control. This Passenger didn't have anyone to speak it, so it tried to take control manually—every time Stefan's eyes glossed black. Stefan's lack of control over his siphon ability was actually the thing that kept the Passenger weak and at bay but for those moments when Stefan's... anger controlled the magic." She looked between the two vampires. "With Grams' help, Stefan and I, for a lack of a better term—exorcized it."
There was a beat. Of silence. Stillness. Stefan broke it when he lunged forward and grabbed a fist full of the back of Damon's shirt, catching him off-guard, and yanking him back onto the couch next to him before he could do something reckless like try to challenge his one-off on Bonnie's life. The fingers of his other hand dug respectively into Alaric's thigh with the same goal as the teacher tensed.
"This is all uncharted territory, Damon. Did you honestly think wouldn't be unexpected results from such a powerful spell done on the fly, brother?" This had been such a harmless consequence to all the ones Stefan could think of but knew actually pointing that out would just rile everyone up, so he didn't. He said instead, "Nothing happened that wouldn't already have anyway. It's not her fault."
"You're right." Damon said. Stefan wasn't the only one that blinked at the raven-haired vampire in surprise. "It's yours, too. If you'd gotten over yourself and just gone to see Sheila after the deed was done."
And that was when Stefan saw it, in the face of that snarl, the anger that was born from helplessness, because there was nothing the vampire could have done to protect his baby brother from this. Damon's expression turned wary as Stefan's softened in kind.
"You're probably right." Stefan agreed. "But either way, the Passenger's gone now and everything's fine."
Damon scoffed quietly at that damned cursed word from his baby brother's mouth, and turned his terse blue gaze to the witch still standing in the doorway. "You better hope so. Now stop wrinkling my shirt," he ordered the brunette.
"Oh, right." Stefan released his brother's shirt.
"Well," Bonnie puffed out her cheeks. "This has filled my 'fun' quota for the night. I'm gonna head home."
Stefan pushed himself from the couch with a silent groan. "Are you sure you're okay to drive home?" he wondered in genuine concern. "You can-" he started to offer but she shook her head.
"I'll be okay, Stefan." She promised. "Remember, lots of food and sleep. I'll call tomorrow, and see about that needed meditation, okay?"
He nodded and pulled her into a hug. "Goodnight, Bonnie. Drive safe."
"Night, Stefan." She gave him a small smile before she departed.
Stefan sighed and ran a hand over his knackered face. "I'm exhausted so I'm heading to bed." He offered over his shoulder to the vampires and delayed a beat. Waited. He knew what he was expecting; Damon blocking his path like last time, demanding answers he didn't have. He knew what he wanted; Alaric to leave Damon and follow after him, for him not to hold the same guilt and anger as Bonnie—Damon, too.
Nothing happened, neither moved or said anything, so he went up to his room. He relieved himself and brushed his teeth, changed into comfy track pants and one of Ric's Bruinz sweatshirts, but instead of immediately crawling into bed under his blankets, he greeted Salvatore.
"Hey, buddy." He murmured, forearm leaned against the edge of the shelf where the fishbowl resided, chin resting atop, his nose nearly brushing the glass. "Just me this time, back whole if I just let myself be. Sage advice from the Bennetts." Stefan watched the comet fish glide around his home, a soft smile on his lips as he slowly just became a warm blur of colour as his gaze grew heavier...
Amber petals fluttered down around him, drifting gently on his breath, soft silk brushed his cheeks like butterfly kisses, thin lines of red marking his skin—Stefan jolted awake as Alaric wiped away Damon's blood with a licked thumbed.
Stefan cleared his throat, rubbing his eyes as he straightened. "I didn't fall asleep standing up."
Alaric gave him an amused expression as the brunette's denial was immediately discounted by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Wouldn't be the first time."
"Yeah, well, you're comfortable to fall asleep against—either upright or prone." Stefan countered, moving passed him toward the bed.
Alaric followed him. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"So," Stefan sat heavily on the side of the bed with a sigh, "How did your little... blame game go with Damon?" Alaric pursed his lips. "The right answer—It's equal between you." He grabbed the corner of the blanket and rolled back across the bed, putting himself into a cozy burrito on Alaric's side of the bed.
Alaric watched him. "You're right." He agreed quietly.
"I know, but it doesn't matter. The Passenger's gone, it's fixed." Stefan closed his eyes. "No more black eyes."
"Are you sure?" Alaric started. "Bonnie's been wrong before-"
"Yes." Stefan told him in no uncertain terms. "And if you try and hold it against her—I can just as easily hold it against you. If I don't blame Bonnie for anything that's happened—what right do you and my brother have?" he challenged.
"That's not what I was saying," Alaric returned just as firm, causing the siphoner to open his eyes and look at him. "I'm allowed to be worried for a minute when I get told that my boyfriend was possessed by a witch's spirit trying to control him! I'm sorry I can't just brush it aside as easily as you."
Stefan sat up, he couldn't really deny the accusation. He did get over it pretty easily compared to Sheila's news that his subconscious was controlling his ability to attack himself. But, "I didn't brush it aside, I acknowledged it, processed it, then accepted that it's gone and I don't need to obsess negatively about it. Make a mountain out of a mole hill. Not even a mole hill," he corrected. "Flat earth, not even a bump to stumble over. Any damage the Passenger might have done is passed healed. So, you can be happy that I'm okay now and cuddle, or you can go back downstairs and drink with Damon." He looked at Ric for a moment more before he laid back down and closed his eyes—only to open them a moment later at the tug on the blanket.
"And how exactly do you expect me to cuddle you like this?" Alaric wondered.
Stefan mouth quirked. "You'll figure something out."
"Ah," the spark in his blue eyes had the brunette rightfully wary. The vampire took the edge of the blanket and just like yanking a tablecloth clean off...
Stefan let out an exclaim and giggle as he was momentarily in a barrel down the hill as he was unrolled via vampire strength, ending diagonal on his side, head hanging upside down over the edge of the bed. "Ugh. That's one way to do it," he laughed, feeling light-headed. His ankle was grasped and he was tugged back onto the bed, soon arranged comfortable in the dark with Alaric cuddling him under the blanket as requested. "That's better."
Alaric pressed a kiss to his crown. "Much."
"Mm. Agreed." Stefan murmured, already drifting again. If Sheila's 'wake-up' tea was already wearing off for him, he just hoped that Bonnie made it back home before crashing herself. "I'm okay." He promised. Alaric's arms just tightened around him in response. "Don't wake me until after noon." He added seriously, causing the vampire to press a sound of amusement against the nape of his neck.
...
Wind rustled through the hedge leaves, creating physical life to the invisible force of nature—the balcony doors banged opened before the gust, jolting Stefan awake. He blinked groggily in the sunlight coming from the open doors to flood his bedroom with a grumble.
"You awake yet, then?" Alaric wondered in amusement, coming in. He closed the balcony doors, shutting out the invading sunlight in Stefan's dark sanctuary.
"No." Stefan mumbled petulantly and turned his face into his pillow.
"Come on," the bed shifted as Alaric sat on the edge next to him. "None of that," he stopped Stefan when the brunette attempted to pull the covers over his head, too. "When Bonnie said lots of sleep, I don't think she meant the actual whole day."
"You're right." Stefan agreed, his voice muffled in the pillow. "She said sleep for two days."
"Uh-huh." Alaric pulled the blanket down further; Stefan's complaining sound turned into something different as the vampires stroked the exposed warm skin at the small of his back from the bunched sweater. "And you've been sleeping like the dead all night and morning, didn't even roll into my spot after I got up. If you're up now, then your body's saying you're supposed to be."
"The wind blew the doors open." He arched against Alaric's hand as it rubbed up his back under the sweater.
"A natural wake up call." Alaric interpreted to Stefan's dismissive snort. "Either way... you're awake now. You should eat something," fingers danced down his spine, "Food's waiting downstairs." The dirty-blond tempted.
That finally got Stefan to turn his face from hiding in the pillow. "I was possessed with another soul and I don't even get breakfast in bed?" he complained. Alaric's responding silence and expression were not very impressed. "Too soon? Figured. Is that still a no on breakfast in bed?"
"Yes." His answer was succinct.
"Hm." Stefan made a noncommittal sound as Alaric continued to stroke his skin.
"Are you thinking about it?"
"Maybe." Stefan admitted. "Just... give me a minute and keep rubbing."
"Oh," he chuckled softly into realization, "I'm onto you now."
"That is not incentive for you to stop."
"Isn't it?" Alaric challenged slyly.
Stefan flashed the vampire his own unimpressed look, but settled when the vampire didn't stop his comforting ministrations. He inhaled deeply through his nose. "Bacon," he noted, licking his lips. "It's your typical go-to after... events like these."
"I hadn't noticed," Alaric admitted.
"Well, Bonnie did say comfort food was best for this sort of situation," Stefan explained. "You've sold me on not having breakfast in bed."
"Glad I managed to convince you," he said wryly. "And can it really be called breakfast if it's... 1:00 in the afternoon?"
"Well," Stefan turned and sat up, stretching his arms overhead. "Breakfast is the first meal of the day." When he brought his arms down, it was looped around Alaric's neck. "So... Good morning," he greeted, finally kissing the vampire.
"Good morning," Alaric chuckled. "How do you feel?" he wondered more seriously, blue gaze searching.
"Good." Stefan informed. "And I'll be even better after a shower, food, more kisses—and even more sleep."
"Well," Alaric kissed him. "There's definitely more where that came from, but don't let it keep you from everything else."
Stefan affected a pout. "At least give me another for the road—I gotta think about something in the shower."
"Don't tease me so early in the morning."
"I thought it was 1 o'clock?"
"Do you want the kiss or not?"
"Yes." He said agreeably. A kiss was such an innocent descriptor of what followed. Stefan lay flushed and breathless and lightly debauched as Alaric rolled off him and to his feet. "Now who's the tease." He accused, adjusting himself as he sat up on the edge of the bed, combing fingers through his mussed hair.
Alaric flashed him a wicked grin. "Just wanted to give you something juicy to think about in the shower—and keep your appetite whet until our date night." Stefan gulped at the implication. "I'll see you downstairs... perhaps in an apron." He teased as he departed.
Stefan stared after him for a moment before getting up and hopping into the shower. Perhaps, waking up didn't have to be such a grudging ordeal after all. The shower was nice, the heat and the spray beating against his sore body soothed him; though he really would have much preferred to melt into the bath. He redressed, fed Salvatore and headed downstairs, the house smelling like bacon.
"Mm." Stefan paused in the kitchen entrance to just breath it in. "Definitely the right call to wake up—though very disappointed in the apron lie, Ric." He flashed the dirty-blond a disappointed frown as he circled around the food laden island toward the coffee maker.
Alaric intercepted him with a mug of tea and steered him back to an island stool. He shrugged unrepentantly, "Gotta leave something to the imagination."
"Hm." Stefan gave him a pout before turning his attention to breakfast. "At least you came through with the breakfast. Full English." It was much needed and utterly wanted. He was starved.
"Didn't want to completely disappoint you so early into your waking."
"What you lack in apron, you definitely made up with food." Stefan paused long enough to let his boyfriend off the hook before his focus returned to the food; granola cereal, poached eggs and bacon, sausage, tomato, and toast and jam all washed down with tea.
Stefan exhaled heavily, finally putting his utensils down on an empty plate. "Whoo. Is it bedtime again now?"
The vampire chuckled fondly. "I missed that appetite," Alaric said quietly.
"You mean, me eating my weight's worth?" he said wryly.
Alaric cupped his cheek and titled his head up, "Having a healthy appetite," he countered and captured Stefan's lips in a slow, satisfied kiss.
Instead of fighting him on it, and countering with the fact that there probably was nothing healthy about Stefan, especially where food and hunger were concerned, he deepened the kiss, hands on Alaric's hips, pulling the vampire closer.
"Ugh." Damon interrupted. "Why am I not surprised? This is still the kitchen, you know, and on occasion I eat in here."
Stefan rolled his eyes over Alaric's shoulder at his brother leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed. "Like you haven't done worse things in here."
"I did not need to know that," Alaric muttered as he started to clean up.
"Yeah, but it's fine when I do them."
Stefan ignored the inaccuracy of that and took in Damon's attire. "Are you going somewhere?"
"I've actually already been out, brother. We can't all sleep in all day and hope to wake up a pretty princess."
"Aw, you think I'm pretty?" Stefan teased.
"Only in the way that an ugly dog is cute. Ironically."
"And you're a dick. Not ironically."
"Whatever." Damon rolled his eyes, straightening. "I'm here for my bloody fix, not the enchanting conversation. So, come on, chop-chop." He clapped his hands. "I'm busy and have better things to do than hang at home with you two."
"Should I even dare to ask?" Stefan leaned up forward on the island and pulled a knife from the block. Alaric sent him a sharp look at the action, the straight blade event still fresh. Stefan sent him a reassuring one. He wasn't going to do anything as drastic as last time, but he had a theory and thought he might as well just reassure himself now and save the nagging worry for something else.
Damon's gaze followed him, but every other aspect of him was nonchalant. "Nope. It's none of your business."
Stefan sat back on the stool and accepted the glass from Alaric. "That's rich when you have your nose in every aspect of my life."
"I'm your big brother. It's my every business to know what you're up to."
"That's an utterly ridiculous double standard and you know it. You won't even tell me one thing you're doing today?"
"I thought I did—I just told you I'm going to be busy."
He huffed a sigh because he'd walked right into that one and knew it, so he just cut the palm of his left hand with the knife over the cup. "Just take your free meal and go about your secretive business." He sent the glass sliding towards Damon.
The vampire caught it up smoothly before it could go over the counter edge. "Oh, it's far from free, baby brother, but thanks anyway." Damon mock saluted him with the glass and tossed the blood back.
Stefan casually watched his brother and fisted a piece of paper towel in his injured fist. He didn't know what he was waiting for exactly. Bonnie said his blood would still be fine for Damon to be drinking, that-
"Hm." Damon made a curious sound in the back of his throat, swishing Stefan's warm blood around briefly in his mouth before he swallowed.
"What?" Stefan's shoulders were tense in anticipation as he watched his brother. "Something wrong?"
"Hm? Oh, I'm sure it's nothing." Damon licked the blood from his teeth as he went over and deposited the glass into the filling sink, giving a smirk in return of Alaric's glare. Damon paused at Stefan's side before leaving, murmur washed out by the rush of running water, "Your blood's just tasting a little... mediocre this morning, brother. Hope Bon Bon didn't mess up again; you know how we vampires are about blood, picky little critics."
Stefan was left to stare after him, knuckles white, fingers biting through the saturated paper towel. He didn't appreciate his brother's implication. Damon was just angry, hurt, it didn't matter, the end result would always be the same, trying to make Stefan angry and hurt. He refused to fall for his brother's underhanded words. Alaric loved him before he ever enjoyed Stefan's blood, but the brunette also knew and by Alaric's own confession, too, as a vampire there would always be that engraved instinct in him partial to blood.
Stefan jumped a little at Alaric's hand on his shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah." Stefan cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm good."
Alaric didn't seem all that convinced. "Here." He gave the brunette his own shot of blood.
"Thanks."
"Of course." Alaric sat on the stool beside him, squeezing his nape gently, the obvious question of 'what the hell did Damon say to you this time?' on his tongue when the vibration of Stefan' cell interrupted.
Stefan gave a silent sigh of relief, not sure how he was even going to address that question without making a mountain out of a mole hill, and dug his cell from his pant pocket. Bonnie's smiling face filled the screen as it continued to vibrate in his hand. He sent Alaric an apologetic look and answered the phone, setting it on the counter instead of going through the wasted effort of holding it when Ric would be able to hear the conversation regardless.
"Good morning, Bon." he greeted.
"Morning?!" she exclaimed. "I think I need to go back to sleep if it's still morning."
"Agreed, but somebody," he gave Alaric a look, who looked unrepentant, "Practically forced me from bed with threat of bacon."
"Aw," Bonnie mocked. "What a mean vampire boyfriend to cook you bacon in bed."
"Clearly you weren't listening. He made me get out of bed." He corrected her.
"You're just a spoiled brat, aren't you?" she mused.
"Hey!" he protested. "You could have stayed and had bacon, too."
"Maybe next time I will." She challenged, making him smirk.
"So," Stefan said, a little more sombrely. "Are you feeling better?" he absentmindedly picked at the brown stained paper towel clenched in his fist.
"I am. Proper sleep helped better than that little powernap of ours, in counter—this coffee." Bonnie slurped said beverage to the brunette's amusement. "I'll be ready for exams tomorrow, no worries. What about you, Salvatore?"
"Not to stroke his ego or anything, but Ric was right about getting up, having a shower and eating big."
"Too late." Alaric murmured with a smirk, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Bonnie chuckled. "I'll challenge your shower and raise you a bubble bath."
"You're just trying to make me jealous."
"Like you weren't with the bacon."
"She's got you there." Alaric agreed.
Stefan's silence was his confirmation. "Knew it!" she crowed. "But other than that, is the coast clear?"
Stefan's brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" but he caught the smirk in Alaric's eyes. He narrowed his own in suspicion at the vampire. "What." He repeated.
"Well, the last time I walked in without announcing myself, it was pretty raunchy in here." Bonnie stepped into the kitchen, tucking her cell in her pocket.
"Jesus, Bonnie!" Stefan jumped in his seat, surprised. He glowered as the pair shared a laugh at his expense. "You heard her coming!" he accused Alaric.
Alaric didn't even try to plead innocent. "I totally heard her this time." He shared a smirk with the witch where she leaned against the counter on Stefan's other side.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, Bon," Stefan said, turning to her. "But shouldn't you be home resting? You exhausted a lot of your magic last night, you need to give yourself a break."
"I'm fine, Stefan. I promise." Bonnie patted his shoulder. "I don't plan on using any magic and meditation is an integral part of recovery and practice, not something that should be done over the phone—especially to start with. That's why I'm here, so as soon as you finish your breakfast," she rapped her knuckle on the counter near the shot of blood, "We can go and get started."
"Oh, right." He turned his attention back to his hand and the blood he'd all but forgotten about. He unclenched his fingers and peeled away the paper towel. It had stopped bleeding but fresh blood seeped up into the line of lacerated skin as he flexed his hand back. He took the shot between his index, middle, and thumb, but hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Bonnie. Stefan had finally gotten all the magic out of his body, he was kind of wary of putting any back in. "Are you sure this isn't going to kick-start the black hole?"
Bonnie squeezed his shoulder, her green-flecked gaze holding his without hesitation. "I'm sure. I promise."
His lips pursed for a moment before he nodded, sighed quietly, and tossed back the shot of Alaric's blood like it was tequila. Three sets of eyes watched as the lips of the wound sealed itself, leaving nothing behind but unscarred and bloodstained skin.
Alaric took Stefan's hand, incredulous. "It's healed. Completely." He said with amazement, the pad of his thumb gently running over sensitive, newly healed skin. But it seemed he was the only one when he finally managed to tear his gaze away and look at the other two.
"As it should be." Bonnie said. "You know what this means?"
"No. What?" Alaric asked, but her gaze was trained with Stefan's. He looked between the two. It was obvious they were having a silent conversation, clearly significant if the emotions in their eyes were anything to go by. He wasn't sure how worried he was supposed to be, (this was supposed to be a good thing, right?) but he was certainly getting a little frustrated with being left out of it. "Can someone please just tell me what's going on? What am I missing here? This is a good thing, isn't it?"
Bonnie raised a questioning brow to the silent brunette: are you going to tell him or am I?
Stefan worried the inside of his cheek, lips pursed. You. It had been the reason why he'd decided to cut his palm instead of a needle in his arm. His theory proven right, but hearing someone else say it aloud would give it more credence, both to Ric and himself and there was no one he trusted more than Bonnie to give it to him straight.
The witch nodded and turned her attention back to the vampire. "The probability of Stefan becoming a vampire again has gone up exponentially."
"Wh-" Alaric was floored by the unexpected news on the topic of conversation which hadn't been discussed, much less brought up for a long time, not since he tried to bring it up New Years morning and the brunette shut it down. But just because they never talked about it, didn't mean it hadn't been a constant, silently but deadly fear living in the back of his mind, the pit of his stomach, his undead heart. "Why? How?" the dirty-blond finally managed to get the important questions out, to let in sink in, settle.
"The fact that Stefan's wound just healed completely. They never healed completely before because the magic in the blood was siphoned away before it could do the work. Now that the Passenger is gone and the vacuum switch isn't jammed into the on-position, Stefan's no longer indiscriminately siphoning magic from his body, leaving you with the full healing capabilities of vampire blood and the magic that lets a human go into transition." She smiled.
Stefan watched the vampire carefully.
Unable to express in words the immense emotion that swelled in him, Alaric jumped to his feet and pulled Stefan tightly to his chest in his happiness and relief. Stefan pressed his face into his collar. He had decided a long time ago that he was going to become a vampire, or at least go through the attempt of becoming a vampire no matter how low the variable of success. Now, it was just nice to know he had a point in his favour on the matter.
Alaric had the irrational fear that Katherine was going to jump out of the pantry in a trucker hat with a camera crew and announce that he'd been "Pierced", but his blue gaze met steady green-flecked and it melted away. Bonnie let out a little sound of surprise as she herself was pulled into the embrace by the vampire. "Thank you, Bonnie." The words were addressed to her even if he whispered them into Stefan's hair.
"Just glad I could finally do something right," she whispered in confession to the vampire, her shoulders relaxing. It was a better reception than she'd received last night.
Stefan buried his sigh against Alaric's throat. Of course it would take more than one night for Bonnie to let go of the misplaced guilt she was feeling over this. He just wished his words had more of an impact.
Alaric's arm squeezed her shoulders in sympathetic comfort before releasing her and she took a step back. "So," she blew a loose lock of hair from her face in an explosive breath. "Do you need a minute for a bit of hot and heavy, or..." she teased.
Stefan lifted his head from Alaric's crook to roll his eyes at his friend, "Don't tempt me, Bonnie." Before he turned his attention to the teacher, whose gaze was trained on his face with a mix of happiness, love, relief... and something soft that the brunette decided he didn't want to decipher. Instead, he gave the vampire a soft, lingering kiss.
Cupping his head, Alaric tilted his head and decided to momentarily deepen it. When it pulled a small sound from Stefan, Bonnie decided that the spice rack was rather interesting this afternoon.
When the kiss broke, Stefan managed to say: "I have to go do... witchy things now."
Bonnie snorted quietly to herself and was thankfully ignored.
A smirk twitched at the corner of Alaric's mouth. "You... go do that then." He pressed a parting kiss to Stefan's forehead.
"Whenever you're ready." The witch prompted not unkindly.
"I just have to grab socks." Stefan made the quick trip upstairs and was soon walking across the drive to Bonnie's Prius. "Where are we going?"
"You tell me." Bonnie told him, getting into the passenger seat.
Stefan gave her a bewildered look through the window. "What are you doing?" Bonnie just gestured to the driver's seat with a jerk of her head. Stefan cautiously got in. "You're letting me drive your Precious Prius?"
"Shut up." She told him without heat. "Now, somewhere where you are comfortable, where you feel connected." Bonnie made an encompassing gesture through the windshield. Stefan followed the gesture and peered out through the windshield as if what she meant was right out there. "Take your time. It might not seem like it, but it is important."
Stefan nodded and they lapsed into silence. But it wasn't a moment later that he turned the key in the ignition, the engine quietly coming to life.
...
Bonnie looked around at the slightly familiar surrounding trees as they got out of the Prius at their final destination. "Are you sure this is where you want to do this?" she asked him carefully.
Stefan was quiet for a moment as he listened to the birdcalls, taking in the lush, overgrown ruins of his childhood home. He nodded, "I'm sure."
"I thought you might have chosen the quarry." She admitted, going around to her boot. "After everything that's happened there."
"That's why I didn't," he admitted. "It's sort of tit-for-tat with that place. You also said that it was a hotspot and that's the last place I want to be. Besides this place being private, remembering Dominic made me a bit nostalgic."
Bonnie gave him an encouraging smile, a rolled blanket tucked under one arm, a small canvas bag in the other. "Then it's perfect. Now pick your spot."
"Here," Stefan decided nearly ten minutes later, throwing up the blanket and letting it overlay the soft bed of grass.
Shoes kicked off, they sat on the blanket facing each other, comfortably cross-legged. Bonnie sighed, "Perfect."
Stefan gave her a small smile. "Thanks. We're at the center of the garden."
"So," Bonnie got started, slapping her hands down on his knees. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said that last time you drove us out here-"
"Oh." He glanced away in shame and guilt. "That-"
"Hey," Bonnie stopped him. "I'm glad you told somebody, Stefan. I'm glad you told me. I am. I know I freaked out at the time, but that was a debilitating fear you needed to get off your chest and it means so much that you trusted me with it."
"Thanks," he said softly, laying his hands over hers. "So..." he prompted.
"So," she said with a little smile. "When you were a vampire, you ever just focus your hearing and listen to Ric's heartbeat or Elena's, just to reassure yourself that they were there, alive, whole, healthy?"
Stefan swallowed and nodded. "All the time. As long as I could hear it, I knew you guys were okay."
"I want you to do that with breathing," Bonnie told him. "When you start to feel that way, when the feeling just starts to overwhelm you, when it's all you can seem to hear... I want you to pick up someone else's breathing." He raised his brows in question. "I know how you feel about the own sound of your breath sometimes when things get too much, so, when you're in that situation, focus on my breath, or Ric's, or Elena's, or whoever else is there with you. I want you to focus on that, mirror it, sync—until it becomes yours. Do you want to try it?"
"Okay."
"Okay. Now, just like when I check your aura, I want you to focus and copy my breathing until it becomes yours. Until we share the same breath." She took a deep, smooth breath. "Here, this'll help." She shifted forward until their knees were touching and turned Stefan's hands over so they were palm-to-palm, fingertips to inside of wrists at that tiny little pulse point. "I know it's not the same, but..."
"No, no. It's perfect," he promised her.
She gave him an encouraging smile and closed her eyes, taking deep, slow breaths. It had become ritual to fall into a meditative headspace for her and easy to fall into.
Her heartbeat was calm against his fingertips, her expression relaxed, the rise and fall of her chest as even and as steady as her breaths. Stefan watched her and the rustle of the breeze through the foliage, the animal activity faded to the background as his breath matched hers.
His eyes slipped closed.
"Good," she praised, her voice a gentle murmur so as not to startle him. "Focus on your breath, but don't shut everything else out. Feel the breeze caress your skin, let the sun blanket you in warmth. You need to be open with yourself, Stefan. You can lie to everyone else, but can't lie to yourself." Stefan's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed convulsively at the statement that was not pointed, just pure fact; he could only delude himself, but even that never truly held for long. "Now, with every inhale, I want you to imagine all the negative thoughts and emotion collecting there, and on your exhale, you are releasing it from your body and spirit like the poison it is. Breathe it out like carbon dioxide for the sun to purify and the wind to carry away."
Stefan could have snorted at the imagery the witch was eliciting because for him to be free of the poison, he would no longer have breath left in his body—but instead, he gathered the negative thought in his lungs. He could just picture his breath black and poisonous as he exhaled and subconsciously turned his face from Bonnie because she did not need to accidentally inhale it herself before the sun could sterilize it.
He breathed and exhaled with her.
It was a similar exorcise, if more refined than his crude habit of expelling every negative, hurting, roiling emotion trapped inside him in the form of a wounded, bestial howl that refracted back onto him.
Except.
Screaming into the void was cathartic in the sense that in left him feeling physically accomplished (while meditation was a purely mental exorcise), it put a toll on his body that left him exhausted, breathless, made him feel like he'd actually accomplished something. But this did something that writing in his journals never accomplished, because here, he acknowledged the thoughts, the memories, the emotions and he let them go into the ether, while writing in his journal just gave them physical form to haunt him further, to punish himself over again.
He breathed. Picked a memory; a moment, a thought, a feeling; Katherine, John, Damon, Alaric, but everything blackest and most poisonous of all was about himself. He exhaled. He knew it wasn't just one-and-done, but right now it was. A weight lifting from his mind. The breeze through his hair, the sun on his skin, the busy animal noises. For the first time in a long time, with his breath mingled with Bonnie's, he didn't want to scream until there was no breath left to scream with.
He'd been in the bad practice of compartmentalizing his emotional issues into a mental vault and when that inevitably blew up in his psyche, he had desperately resorted to a network of shadow boxes. Shadow boxes that exploded on him in chain reaction that did more damage to his psyche then it had to protect and heal him.
It was a destructive cycle that always inevitably ruined him and forced him to start the process all over again, so why did he continue to enable the habit that clearly wasn't working for him? It was all just another attempt of lying and hiding from himself. Was he really that scared of being happy and healthy that he had refused to break the cycle of the past 145 years?
There it was, that feared vulnerability. His deepest fear, his darkest desire—happiness. Perhaps this was the key, perhaps meditation was what would finally break the cycle. It demanded nothing from him, and it certainly didn't require a blood offering, just his willingness. He needed to get out of his own way, let it go, just let himself go, stop lying and embrace himself.
He took Bonnie's breath as his own and let it go.
[...tbc...]
~ The Vampire Diaries ~
Happy Holidays and we're leaving this on a happy, hopeful note. Will it stay that way...? :)