prompt: "I'm begging you."
word count: 990

without an anchor

Damon stumbled into the room, a hand pressed to a still-bleeding wound in his shoulder. He gritted his teeth and caught himself on the wall as his feet tripped over each other.

He saw Stefan first. Torn, bloody clothing hanging from him, his eyes focused on something in the distance. And then he turned, looked at Damon, and his expression cracked with pity.

Damon knew before he stepped into the room completely, he knew exactly what he would find, but that didn't stop him. He moved forward, eyes searching her out, his stubborn little witch, separated from him in the chaos. But, he'd been convinced, he'd been so sure, she would get out, she would make it, with or without him. Because that was just who she was. It was what Bonnie did. She survived. Despite all the odds. She always came out the other end.

He went still for just a fraction of a second, staring down at her, sprawled on the floor, body crumpled in a motionless, lifeless heap. Her head turned at a strange angle, her arms and legs limp. And then he was there, kneeling beside her, gathering her up, pulling her into his lap.

"Bonnie," he rasped, cradling her head even as her neck failed to support it properly. Bile crawled up his throat. "Come on." He tore open his wrist with his teeth and pressed it to her mouth. "Come on, Bon-Bon. This isn't curtain call."

His blood smeared over her lips, trickled over her tongue, but there was nothing. Not one twitch. He couldn't hear her heart; not one rattling, desperate breath in her lungs. She was just gone. A shell. Empty.

"Bonnie, please…" He choked; a swarm of misery and desperation filling his throat until it simply stalled. Fingers stroked through her hair as he tipped her head up, staring down at her face, searching for some small sign that it wasn't over, not yet. "Please, don't leave me. Please."

The silence was deafening. The stillness; of her, the room, of everything. It hurt. Every part of him was screaming, tearing apart; a raw, internal desperation that clawed its way up from his belly. He cradled her closer, an arm tucked under her legs, and he leaned down, burying his face in her hair, against her neck. "Come on… You can do this. You've defied death how many times? Bonnie… I'm begging you here." He gritted his teeth as his eyes burned. "I need you."

It could have been seconds or minutes or hours, but eventually, the silence was broken by the shuffling of feet, by Stefan crossing the room, bending to kneel beside him, resting a hand atop Damon's shoulder in quiet support. And Damon hated him for it. He wanted to shove away that hand and the pity it offered. He wanted to snarl and snap and send Stefan flying across the room to crash against the wall. He wanted his brother to feel the ache that he felt. The emptiness that was consuming him; climbing up from the soles of his feet, swallowing every bit of him, reaching and spreading, devouring him whole.

But, he didn't shove Stefan away; he didn't attack or complain or tell him to stuff his worthless pity down his throat and choke on it.

He raised his head and stared down at her, still beautiful, still young and perfect and soft. He traced his thumb around the edges of her blood-soaked mouth. A mouth that sneered and snarled and smiled at him in equal measure. A mouth that was always so stubborn; frowning and scowling and pursed at him. And trembling with laughter, so bright and happy. When he was done, he laid her down on the ground, careful to support her head. He brushed his fingers through her hair so that it was untangled, blooming around her. Then he stood, letting Stefan's hand fall from his shoulder. Damon gazed down at her, memorized her. He thought of her voice and her laugh and the way she said his name; angry and happy and exasperated and tired and amused and a million other ways. And then he closed his eyes. He remembered every moment from the first second he set eyes on her. He remembered every word she said and every face she made, every insult and apology, every accusation and defense. He remembered how soft her skin was under his hands and how she smiled every morning when she woke up and found him staring back at her. He remembered every argument and every make up, every second spent cuddling and dancing and making love. He remembered the way her hand fit behind his neck and how quick she was to roll her eyes. He remembered every single moment of knowing, loving, wanting, having Bonnie Bennett.

And when he opened his eyes, the suffocating feeling of not having her was completely absent.

The gnawing at his gut, the desperation, the feeling of being completely lost had melted away.

There was no love here. No pain, no fear, no guilt.

There was nothing at all.

"Damon?"

He turned, a brow raised, and smirked at Stefan, amused as he watched horror creep up over his brother's face. "You'll take care of this, right?" He motioned toward the body at his feet with a flick of a loose, careless finger. "I'm feeling… peckish."

Before Stefan could answer, Damon was gone, rushing from the room and out into the fresh air of the outside.

First thing first; he needed a snack, and a pretty co-ed would do just fine.

Then? Well, then he was going to track down every single person who had a hand in tonight, and he was going to tear them limb from limb. With glee. Just because he had no humanity didn't mean he wasn't eager to exact a little revenge. Besides, it would be fun. And Damon was nothing if not fun.

author's note: i know this is crazy short, which isn't usually my bag, but i've had it saved on my computer for a while, and figured i'd just post it. i do have a sequel to it half completed. for those curious about my other bamon stories, especially 'til eternity, i haven't given up on it. i'm sorry for the long wait in between updates, but i'm still working and finding a balance during this pandemic has been complicated for me. thanks for sticking with me!

thanks so much for reading. please try to leave a review!
~ Lee | Fina