The Devil Within
"I will keep quiet, you won't even know I'm here,
You won't suspect a thing; you won't see me in the mirror,
But I've cut in to your heart, you can't make me disappear, 'til I make you
I made myself at home in the cobwebs and the lights,
I'm learning all your tricks, I can hurt you from inside,
I made myself a promise, you would never see my cry, 'til I make you
... You'll never know I hit you."
-Digital Daggers
"You saved me," he said, as he stared into the glowing emerald eyes of the woman before him. "I don't know how to thank you for that."
There was a long silence as she contemplated the words to say. He knew the words would only remind him of the harsh reality of their situation, and just like clockwork, take him down a few more notches.
"Don't," she replied simply, as she shifted her focus towards her grimoir, and closed it quickly. "I didn't do it for you-"
"You didn't do it for me... right," he interrupted, as he neared her with quiet calculation. "You do it all for Elena. You always have. You'd bleed yourself dry, and sell the very bones from your body, if it meant she'd be out of harms way. Am I correct, love?"
She didn't respond, as she let out a deep sigh, and closed her eyes tightly. She began to speak a few foreign words beneath her breath, and Klaus watched on as she became deeply entranced, in just a few moments, by the spell.
He breathed slowly as he felt the burns all over his body beginning to close up as she continued chanting, until finally, his last wound was healed.
She didn't know why she did it, to be quite honest. She should have let the bastard heal on his own. But maybe she wasn't as heartless as she liked to believe she could be. Maybe she did care, afterall.
She'd never come about that part.
Without even glancing in his direction, she could already feel the heat radiating off of the hybrid, as his blue eyes burned holes right through her. His thick voice, smooth like velvet, seemed to seep into her pores, chill her bones, and permeate her soul, without any effort at all.
And that scared her; the fact that this monster had slowly, but surely, gotten to her frightened her much more than she could let on.
Her feelings were always something that frightened her. Especially right now.
His feet tapped gently against the wooden floor, as he slowly advanced towards her, and she boldly looked up into the eyes of the man who'd done nothing more than make her life a living hell.
She breathed smoothly when that familiar smirk took residence across his face, and he only stopped once he was undoubtedly invading her space; engaging her in such a way that she wished he'd be more tentative about.
He cocked his head softly, and her skin shivered when he placed a steady hand to her chin, and gazed deeply into her eyes.
"There is a darkness inside of you, love," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, as his fingers traveled slowly over her cheek. "Another incident like this one, and I'm afraid you won't know who you are anymore; you're about a spell away from losing it all."
She frowned as she slapped his uncharacteristically warm hand away, and pursed her lips, as she stared at him firmly.
He seemed to take general amusement in that, as he awaited her verbal assault.
"You don't know me. You don't know a thing about what I can handle."
Klaus held his hands up defensively, as Bonnie continued to eye him heavily, but he moved in closer, somehow, and she had to catch her breath when his face was only inches away from hers, this time.
"I know very well what you can handle," he whispered, as Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest. "You've been the one who's come close to ending my life so many times. And with that very strength, you were the same one to preserve me, in dear Tyler's body," he added, as he gestured towards the unconcious boy on the ground. "And without failure, you've returned me to my original state; you've done what I believed no one could."
Bonnie gulped silently as she watched the coldness in his eyes turn to something else; something like gratitude, as he continued to gaze at the young witch, in silent admiration.
"I needed to save my friends," she replied sharply, and he sucked his teeth. "There was nothing more to it."
"The very friends who don't know a lick about appreciating you? That's very promising, Ms. Bennett, but I do believe you'd reign much more supreme if you stood alone."
Bonnie shut her lips tightly, for what he said had seemed like a simple truth, to her, for some time now; her friends were holding her back. Her "friends" were toxic, and the sooner she stopped giving a damn about them, or anyone else, the better.
Klaus knew the very instant that the words crossed his lips, they'd affected her. Internally, his heart grew, knowing that the young witch was much more easily influenced than she'd like to let on.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, and Bonnie's eyes shot up towards him. "I apologize for the way I have handled our relationship, in the past."
Bonnie rolled her eyes, and pushed past him, as she headed towards Tyler, and knelt down next to him. She quietly placed two fingers to his neck, to feel his pulse, and spoke without glancing over at Klaus, again.
"Tyler will be awake, soon. You should go. That's all that I want, right now."
Klaus ran his tongue over his teeth, and reluctantly stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Are you positive about that?"
Bonnie looked up sharply, as the hybrid continued to gaze at her in a way that she wasn't completely sure what it meant.
Bonnie scoffed as she shook her head profusely, and stood to her feet.
She was determined to stand her ground.
"I don't want your apology," she stated firmly. "I don't need it, either."
Klaus smiled gently, Bonnie involuntarily shivered down to her core when suddenly, he was before her, again, and staring at her in that way that absolutely enamored her.
Klaus easily tucked a strand of her loose brown locks behind her ear, and her face remained stoic, as he leaned in. She felt the breath from his lips travel across her neck, and she inhaled deeply, just as the words that would forever haunt her burned in her brain.
"I can give you what really you want, sweetheart; there is no doubt about that. All you need to do is ask for it."
Bonnie shook her head, as her eyes met his, and her head tilted to the side. She felt uneasy beneath his stare, but she wouldn't let it show. She couldn't; she couldn't let him know that he made her nervous.
In all the right ways.
"What is it that I want, Klaus?" she finally asked, and the hybrid bit his lip, as he placed both hands to her shoulders, and his majestic blue eyes connected with hers. "Because I find it absolutely hilarious that you'd think you have any idea-"
"You want passion," Klaus interrupted, simply, and she went quiet. "You want... unequivocal, irrevocable, unstoppable passion, Bonnie. And I? Well, I simply just want a challenge. Won't you provide me with one?"
Bonnie snorted, as she folded her arms across her frame, to hide the shaking that overtaken her body, just by the sound of his voice.
A challenge? Klaus wanted her to be his challenge?
"In your dreams," she spat, and Klaus smirked, as he looked to the ground briefly, before meeting her forest green eyes, once more.
His hand rose to meet the nape of her neck, and she inhaled sharply when she felt his lips form against her ear.
"Or perhaps, darling, in yours."
Bonnie shot up in bed, letting out a loud gasp, while her hands clutched at her chest, and she trembled unmistakenly.
She began to breathe normally, only when she realized she was safe and sound in her room, as the feeling of her mattress bounced beneath her.
She huffed, as her eyes blinked in the darkness of the pitch black room, and her hands fumbled, as she searched for the switch on her lamp, at her bedside.
Once the room was illuminated, she breathed a sigh of relief; she was alone.
It had all just been in her head.
Bonnie gulped, as she pushed her comforter aside, and moved her feet; feeling the cold hardwood floor against her toes had become her sanctity.
She exhaled as she got out of bed; clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top, as she walked over towards the full-length mirror, and stopped, as she observed her reflection.
Her eyes were the same; a brownish green, that reminded her of the leaves outside, somedays, and emeralds the next, as they changed color with the weather. Her skin was still vibrant; reminescent of a brilliant cinnamon tone, as her arms, legs, and face continued to glow, even in dim light. Her hair had grown longer and a bit darker, but it was full, as she tied it into a messy bun, and watched a few unruly strands fall to her shoulders.
She still looked the same- she believed she probably always would- though she knew that, on the inside, she wasn't the same.
She'd never be the same Bonnie Bennett that she was, before.
Bonnie quickly moved away from the mirror; suddenly feeling shaken and depressed, as the thoughts about her reckless past and unsure future passed through her mind.
She just wanted to stop thinking, at all. She found sanity in not thinking.
She walked out of her bedroom, and down the hallway, towards her kitchen, where she found sanity, too. She sighed as she retrieved a small, clear bottle from the back of the cabinet, and gazed at the contents.
Almost empty.
Bonnie reached in for an herb, and exhaled as she felt the tiny leaf course against her fingers. Apprehensively, she stuffed it into her mouth, coughing at the raw taste of the supplement, as it seeped against her tongue.
Bonnie sneered as she grabbed a glass, and poured herself a cold cup of water, eagerly awaiting the taste to pass her lips to wash it all down.
As she drank, she busily looked around the decor of her kitchen, eager to take her mind off of her madness.
She began planning design ideas.
She'd been living on her own for about year, but she had never stopped finding things to renovate, in the spacious one bedroom apartment.
She wanted red curtains. She'd have to get red curtains.
And with that, she found the basic beauty of living by herself.
Sure, there were night terrors, and yeah, paying rent sucked, but this was the place that she called home, now.
New York City was her home.
Bonnie made her way into the living room, and glanced at the huge clock on the wall, as she heard the faint sound of sirens, taxis, and people, just outside, on the warm spring night.
How could everything still be so lively at 1 A.M? She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to that, even as most of her Friday and Saturday nights at work required her to be out until 3. She was still a Virginia girl, at heart. Even New York, the City of Dreams itself, couldn't remedy that.
Bonnie plopped down on the couch, and grabbed her remote to flick on the flatscreen, as she curled her knees to her chest, and comfortably sipped her water.
Maybe there was a Law and Order marathon on. Or maybe even a cooking show? She'd love to learn how make a good salmon spread.
As she flipped through the channels, though, nothing particularly stole her interest, and she groaned when she finally settled on some cheesy eighties movie that probably had an even worse soundtrack.
She glanced at her journal, as it lay openly across the glass coffee table before her, and she impulsively reached forward, and grabbed it.
Bonnie's fingers trembled as she opened the book to the page that her pen had bookmarked for her, and she carefully read the last words she had scribbled across the sheet.
"I'm stronger than this. I always have been."
Bonnie coursed her fingers over the letters on the page, and repeated them, mentally, as her own personal mantra.
She was stronger than this. She always would be.
She'd quite literally been to hell, and back, yet, here she was; still alive, still breathing, and still living. Attempting to live anyway.
She always told herself that he was the reason- the reason she hadn't taken her last breath; the reason she felt as though she could survive this, once more.
But thinking about him, or any of them, saddened her.
The picture of she, Elena, and Caroline in the frame, on her end table made her want to cry, most days, but she promised herself, she never would.
They would want her to be strong. And so, she would.
So, when there was a random knock on her door, Bonnie felt everything within her stop, as it halted her sudden prowress.
Who the hell would be visiting her at 1 A.M on a Tuesday night? With no phone call, as her warning?
She waited a moment, as she continued to gaze at the door, waiting for the visitor to make themselves known, again, if they were even at the right apartment.
They knocked again; this time, a bit more firmly, and she pressed the mute button on the remote, as she tried her best to listen any possible traces of a voice on the opposite side of the door.
She heard nothing.
Bonnie inhaled and rose to her feet- quickly grabbing her sweater off of the couch, and pulling her head and her arms through it, before nearing the door.
Once in front of it, she tip-toed to take a glance through the peephole, to be sure that she wasn't about to be attacked by some random serial killer of the night.
Mystic Falls had taught her a lot about precaution.
She dropped to her heels in confusion, though, when she saw nobody within her line of vision, as her eye averted to the empty hallway, outside.
Bonnie breathed, with a slight shrug; must have been the wrong apartment, like she thought.
She began to walk away from the door, when, again, somebody knocked, and this time, fright ran down her bones. She turned around, slowly, as the pounding continued, and she sheepishly placed a hand on the knob, as the visitor continued to knock away, at the door.
Without another thought, she ripped the door open, on impulse, and her heart stopped when she was met with nothing but a bare, empty hallway, again.
She blinked rapidly, as she walked out into the open, and glanced both ways down the corridor, seeing nothing but endless hallway, in sight. Bonnie's stomach and her fingers tightened, as she placed her hands at her sides, and felt pure confusion begin to run through her.
"Maybe you're just losing it," she thought.
She'd been losing it for quite some time, she realized.
Bonnie sighed, as she shook her head, her arms, and rolled her neck. She shut her eyes, and ran her fingers through her hair, soothingly.
She'd been having these moments; these times of temporary insanity, where she believed something to be happening, after it had never occurred at all.
What was triggering it? What was making her feel so crazy, and nostalgic, all at once, after all of this time?
It should have stopped. The nightmares should have been over.
Bonnie quickly shut her door, and stomped back over, towards the couch, where she shivered uncontrollably with emotion, as she opened her journal, and shakily grabbed the pen.
Bonnie felt her heart, pounding out of her chest, as she quickly jotted down her throats.
She'd read somewhere, that writing everything down helped, when it came to insomnia.
"It's happening, again."
Too bad for Bonnie Bennett, she was far beyond the advice of some stupid magazine article.
She was way beyond it all.
"I feel like I'm spilling out of this top," Bonnie heard, as she stared off, at her thumbs, as they tapped against the granite counter. "Are you even listening?"
Bonnie jumped out of her thoughts and spun around to glance at the beautiful brunette before her, who was busily adjusting her black halter top, before finally giving up, with a shrug.
"Laila, you look fine," Bonnie reassured as she leaned against the countertop. "Plus, I'm sure those," she pointed to the girl's chest, "Will get you plenty of tips, tonight," Bonnie joked, and Laila rolled her olive eyes playfully.
Bonnie glanced at the girl before her, and she couldn't help but be overcome with admiration as she took in just how beautiful she was.
With her long dark hair, piercing eyes, and mahogany skin, Laila Shah truly was the definition of an exotic beauty. Tall, slender, and hypnotic in her movements, Bonnie sometimes wondered what the two had in common, besides their love for Channing Tatum, and their unusual obsession with vintage boutiques, and cupcake shops.
Laila had become her right had woman, in New York, as the 19 year old Manhattan native showed her the ropes, and got her a job in her bar, shortly after meeting her on campus at a Student Activist meeting.
Laila was beautiful, and though the girl's interest in her baffled her, she was thankful for it. She was thankful to have a friend.
"Jeez, I hope they're enough," Laila huffed. "Mama needs a new pair of Louboutins."
Bonnie laughed at that quietly, and glanced at the clock on the wall, as she finally pushed herself off of the counter. It was about 8 P.M and predictably, the Thursday night rush would begin in about a half hour, or so.
Bonnie grabbed a couple of beer glasses, and began cleaning them. Laila offered a helping hand, as she hosed down the things in the sink, as they stood in companionable silence before Bonnie finally spoke.
"I think your Dad's head is going to explode, one of these days. Remember that time he threatened to throw away any heel that was higher than 2 inches at Christmas Dinner?" Bonnie questioned, and Laila rolled her eyes, as she continued washing.
"Ugh, of course I do, he's out of his mind... Don't get me started," Laila said in an exasperated tone. "My logic? I'm a fucking genius, therefore, I should be able wear whatever I want. Especially if I pay for it."
"Maybe you can meet a peace treaty? You ace Organic Chem, he leaves you alone for a month."
Laila scoffed at the suggestion.
"My straight-A's need to be triple A's, before he decides to acknowledge my intelligence. I'll be lucky if he doesn't ship me away to India to stay with relatives, on my next holiday- because need to learn 'proper work ethic,'" the girl stated. "I work in a bar, in New York City; I'd say I work pretty hard."
Bonnie pouted. Laila was a hard-working girl; probably the hardest she knew. But her Dad could never seem to give her a break, anyway. Laila's parental issues slightly reminded her of her life back in Mystic Falls where they all had family problems. A bit more serious than Laila's, but still. Bonnie could relate.
"What about your Dad? Is he half as annoying as mine is?" Laila asked, and Bonnie turned away. "Or your friends, back home? Or, anyone back home? You... never talk about them, or yourself, ever. I'm starting to think you don't really consider me your bestie, Bon."
Bonnie gulped before she cleared her throat, and shrugged her shoulders.
What was there to say, really? Her homelife was pathetic, and her friend situation was even worse. Her dad was absent, her mother was undead, and her Grandmother was actually dead. She hadn't spoken to her so-called "friends," since she moved to New York, and her ex-boyfriends? Well, Jeremy was a cheater, and to be honest, she hadn't truly dated, since. Everything was a bit stagnant for her.
There was also the fact that she was completely supernatural, and Laila knew nothing about her world, besides the fact that there had been a Mystic Grill in it, and that had been the only bar Bonnie knew for eighteen years.
She felt bad being so secretive- being so silent. But she figured it was for the best; better yet, she knew it was.
Laila had no idea of the atrocities that truly existed in this world. And she had no idea of the monster Bonnie could really be. She was better off being left in the dark.
"I told you, a million times, Lai- there's nothing to say," Bonnie replied plainly, as the girl crossed her arms. "I grew up in a boring town, with boring people, and that's why I'm here; I needed something new."
She needed something new- well, that wasn't a lie,at least.
"But there weren't any guys worth talking about?" Laila pressed. "Or girls? Girls- I'm not judging, you know-"
"I'm into guys," Bonnie said firmly, and Laila smiled mischeviously.
By that look, Bonnie knew she had just given the girl an idea, and she regretted it wholeheartedly.
"Okay, so prove it. Next guy who walks in- give him your number. I dare you."
Bonnie blinked in disbelief at the girl, before she finally shook her head and folded her arms across her pretty, flowing shirt that Laila made her spend way too much money on in Saks 5th Ave.
"I need to prove that I'm straight?"
"No, you need to prove that you're not an asexual amoeba," Laila stated, and Bonnie's mouth dropped. "Because you haven't so much as glanced at anyone, the entire time I've known you, and seriously- I'm concerned. How can I really know you, if I don't know how terrible your taste in men is? I mean, Channing Tatum, fine, but let's just... see how you do with a regular guy," Laila persuaded, and Bonnie licked her teeth.
"You really are bored, aren't you?"
"Extremely," Laila said anxiously, and she scoffed. "And... I'm looking out for you, believe it or not. I promised I'd do that, wouldn't I?"
"This is looking out for me? Forcing me to give some random my number, in hopes that he doesn't stalk me, dismember my body, and dump it in Central Park?" Bonnie asked and Laila rolled her eyes, and batted her long black lashes.
"Or... he could be really good in bed. Don't be so morbid. Live a little!"
Bonnie gazed into Laila's honestly sympathetic eyes, and she sighed.
This was Laila keeping her promise to brighten up Bonnie's life, and bring her a little excitement. This was Laila looking out.
This was Bonnie finally accepting the fact that she needed her, and her help, whether she wanted to admit it or not. This was Bonnie giving in.
"Fine," Bonnie sighed, as she threw her hands up, before placing them on her hips. "Next guy who walks into this bar... my number is his for the taking," Bonnie stated, and Laila smiled as though she'd just won an award, and clapped her hands happily. "But I swear, Laila, he'd better be hot. And not too full of himself... and not over the age of thirty. That's my limit," Bonnie warned.
Mystic Falls had also taught her about standards. Apparently dating you best friend's younger brother was below them. Even worse, it was just plain embarrassing when he cheated on you with a ghost. Even more ridiculous? Rebounding with the guy who was your quasi-adoptive brother, thanks to your own mother deciding to raise him, instead of you. Nevermind all the other guys who used her, just for their convinience.
Bonnie's love life was in shambles. So, it was no surprise to her that things were about to get even more interesting.
She felt a bit looming danger suddenly come over her as Laila winked, and nodded, in the subtlest of way. Bonnie instantly felt the presence of a man standing on the other side of the counter, right behind her.
Had fate really answered her so quickly?
"Not bad, Bennett. You're seriously gonna thank me later," the girl grinned, before gracefully sliding away, and Bonnie prepared herself for Laila's version of "not bad," as she bit the bullet, and turned around to meet the eyes of her potential suitor.
She nearly choked when those very blue, and all-too-familiar ocean eyes crashed against her so hard, she was sure she'd truly drowned.
"Hot, not too full of myself, and under the age of thirty... One out three isn't so bad. Right, Judgey?" he smirked.
Bonnie felt all of the air in her lungs escape her as his eyes glimmered, so obviously sizing her up from behind the bar, in the always obvious way that he did, before he took a seat on the stool, and folded his hands.
This was Laila ruining everything.
His dark hair was perfectly messy, just the way she remembered it, and as per tradition, he was clad in a black leather jacket, that only seemed to highlight his smooth, pale skin, even more.
He continued to stare at her; cockiness seeping from his expression, before she scoffed and struggled to speak, as she tried to find the words that she wanted to say.
"Damon," she almost gasped, and he waved his hands, in faux shock. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Whoa, Bonnie," he immediately shot back, as the witch glared at him angrily, and he cocked his head softly. "Is that any way to speak to your good ol' pal? Why can't you just be like the normal girls who worship me, and then fetch me something to drink? Or, someone-"
"Damon-"
"Bourbon's fine, Witchy," he stated, as he tapped his fingers on the counter, and she growled in frustration, as he only seemed to be smiling, continuously.
It'd been a year, and this was still the dynamic between she and Damon. It seemed not everything had to change.
"You look..." Damon trailed off, as his eyes raked up and down her body, before he let out a long whistle. "Smokin'."
"You need to leave," Bonnie replied beneath her breath, and his jaw dropped. "I-I can't do this, right now," she said firmly, and Damon rolled his eyes.
"Don't be dramatic," he said, as he stood to his feet, and reached his down and over the bar, to retrieve his own bottle, and a glass. "I've seen you at your worst, remember? I kinda think you owe me, for that. Who says I'm not here to collect?"
Bonnie inhaled, but she didn't say a word, as she watched Damon make his own drink, and place the bottle back onto the counter. He took a long sip, and she felt her fingers tremble when he glanced into her eyes, afterwards, with no sign of budging, whatsoever.
He was Damon; of course he wasn't budging-he 'd do this all night, if he had to.
When Damon gulped down the rest of his drink, Bonnie stood there, stoic- paralyzed, even-as she glanced into the eyes of the man that represented the past that she was so desperate to get away from.
Damon represented something in her life that she had never wanted to be. He represented her lowest point, to date. He'd seen her at her weakest, and consequently, saved her life, just when she'd slowly begun to lose it all.
But that didn't mean that she wanted to thank him, or even acknowledge him, for that. She didn't want anything to do with what had happened to her, a year ago. She just wanted to forget.
And he just wouldn't let her.
"Can I get you another drink?" Bonnie heard, and she snapped out of her daze, as Laila stood next to her brightly; staring at Damon like he was some sort of celebrity, or something.
Her friend had normally done an excellent job at being discreet when a good-looking man was in her presence, but obviously, not this time.
Laila was practically falling in love, just by standing there. Damon Salvatore just seemed to have that effect on people, and Bonnie hated every minute of it.
"How'd you know I was thirsty?" Damon flirted, and Bonnie rolled her eyes.
"Because by my observations, Bonnie's left you hanging," the brunette continued, as she sent her a scolding glance. "Maker's Mark, on the rocks?" Laila asked, and Damon smirked sweetly.
"Yes, please. Thank you, darling. You see, Bonnie and I are old friends, from back home. And it's kind of a little game between us to see who can the ruder of the two, each time we reunite," Damon said, and Laila's eyes widened.
Bonnie almost smacked her palm against her forehead.
"Wait, what? Y-You know him, Bonnie? That's great, I've been dying to meet one of your friends from back home," Laila said in awe, and Damon winked. "Laila- Laila Shah," the girl said, as she extended her hand, and Damon took it gently into his own, before he kissed the top.
He was laying it on so thickly, right now. Bonnie was ready to backhand him, honestly.
"Damon Salvatore," he said, and Bonnie felt herself fuming, as Laila was positively swooning.
"Damon, you should probably go," Bonnie repeated, and Laila scoffed as she turned to her friend. "I mean it."
"I finally meet someone from your life, and you're kicking him out?" Laila nearly shrieked, and Damon nodded, in faux sadness. "At least let him have another drink. He came all the way here to see you!"
"Yeah, Bonnie," Damon added, as he blinked his pretty blue eyes. "Where are your manners?"
Bonnie snorted, as she tightened her fists at her sides, and continued to stare at him, as her rage slowly grew. Without another moment of hesitation, she grabbed the bottle of Maker's Mark out of Laila's hand, and sent Damon a stone cold stare.
He was taunting her; he should have known better, at this point.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Damon. Allow me," she apologized, in a fake tone, as she grabbed an empty glass, scooped a bit of ice, and poured the drink.
Bonnie held it out towards Damon, as he smiled in satisfaction. His expression soon grew dire, when she quickly doused him in the face with the alcohol; garnering a few shocked expressions from those in the bar who saw it happen.
Laila gasped, as Bonnie slammed the empty glass, hard on the counter, and threw her hands up, in defeat.
"It's safe to say I quit, right?"
Damon watched as Bonnie stormed off into the back, with Laila automatically beginning to follow her, but he grabbed her arm swiftly, and stopped her.
As soon as her eyes met his, he did what he always knew best.
"Leave this up to me, Laila. Continue serving the bar."
Laila nodded mindlessly, and before she knew it, Damon disappeared, as the bar began to fill up, within moments flat.
She didn't have much time to wonder what the hell had just happened.
"Bonnie," Damon called, as he jogged to catch up with the girl, and she groaned, as she put down her hand to flag a taxi, and turned in the opposite direction to walk off.
Damon continued in hot pursuit, as her boots clicked against the sidewalk, and he shoved his way through masses of people to easily catch up to her, within seconds.
"Judgey," he started, and she didn't look at him. "You poured whiskey all over me, and it sucks. I'd say you made your point, now," Damon stated impatiently, and Bonnie suddenly whipped around to face him; anger stricken all over her face, as her green eyes glowed viciously.
"Have I, Damon? Have I made my point, yet? Because you can't seem to take a hint," she said harshly, as she stopped in her tracks, and stared him deeply in the eyes. "Why are you here? No one should be here," she said, and he rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"You make it sound like this is the first time you've said that to me," he spat, and Bonnie automatically grew quiet. "You've said that before, right? And you were wrong... right?"
Bonnie averted his eyes, as she looked down at the ground, and Damon seemed to move in closer, as she refused to look at him.
He always had this way of invading her personal space, in more ways than one.
"Why are you here?" she repeated, as a signal of her promise not to budge.
Damon slowly cracked his knuckles, and looked all around at his surroundings, before finally gazing at her, once more.
She looked the same- perhaps a bit more beautiful, but nevertheless, the same. But he knew that she wasn't the girl he'd grown to know, anymore; she never would be.
"Look, if you need a spell, I'm the wrong witch to ask," she said, as she continued to look away. "I-I don't use my magic anymore. I've stopped completely-"
"I didn't come here for a spell," Damon interrupted. "I... actually made the concious decision to... check up on you. For some really stupid reason, I just... I needed to know you were okay. Is that ridiculous enough for you, Bennett? That I... still care, after all of this time, about you, of all people?"
Bonnie's eyes shot up to meet his, and she waited for a trace of joking behind his eyes, but there was none. The genuine look of concern on Damon's face was one she'd wished she could frame, and hang up on the wall, in her apartment.
He shifted uncomfortably, and Bonnie felt an itch in her throat as she folded her hands tighter across her body, and he never tore his eyes away from hers.
It was so much to handle. Maybe a bit too much.
"I'm fine," she said sharply, as Damon eyed her carefully. "Absolutely fine. Couldn't be better- I live here, in New York. Away from everything," she said strongly, and Damon moved in again; this time, so close, she felt the cool breath from his lips dancing along her skin. "What more could I ask for?"
Damon shrugged, as her smooth his damp hair back, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The alcohol was drying quickly on the warm spring night, but the potent smell of liquor only beme stronger as it stained against his clothes.
Quite honestly? She was surprised he didn't vamp out, and attack her on sight for drenching him.
It truly was a testament to how much Damon had changed.
"I don't know, Bennett," he drawled, as their eyes continued to move in sync. "What else would you need?"
Bonnie quickly felt shy again, but she gathered her composure, as she tried to erase from her mind the fact that Damon Salvatore came all the way to New York to check up on her.
She tried desperately to distance herself from thoughts of the past, as she quickly ran through the saga that had been them, while it skipped through her mind, relentlessly.
What happened between them was something she'd never thought possible, and no matter how many times she urged herself to remove it from her memory, she couldn't. It angered her- embarrassed her, too- when she forced herself to remember just how psychotic she had been. It surprised her even more when Damon turned out to be the one to save her.
She never really thanked him for that. Her pride didn't know how.
As Bonnie gazed in his eyes, she slipped faster, and deeper, into her head, as bits and pieces of the struggle between the two began to haunt her.
It was like picking at an old wound, all over again.
"Why can't you just let me die, Damon? Huh? Why are you doing this?" Bonnie asked, angrily, as the vampire held her body over his shoulder and carried her into the cell in the Salvatore basement, quickly shutting the heavy door behind them. "Let go of me!"
Damon struggled, while he continued to hold onto the tiny frame of the witch, as she desperately tried to break free of his authority, and exit the room that he had so graciously brought her into.
Setting her down may have been her biggest mistake, because while the kicking, biting, and clawing at his skin stopped, the struggle to overpower him didn't.
He was stronger though, as she attempted to pummel straight through him, causing Damon to expertly dodge a couple of shots to the face. He remained calm and quiet; a feat Bonnie had never seen, as she was damn near torturing him with her rabid behavior, right now.
He remained silent, all throughout, and she wasn't sure why.
Bonnie growled in frustration as she watched him nod at Stefan in absolution, before the Younger Salvatore placed latch on the lock, and disappeared from sight, as the other remained before her.
Bonnie held a palm forward to administer an aneurysm, and Damon remained still, as her power never materialized.
"What did you do to me?" she asked through her teeth, with pure rage in her eyes.
She stalked up to him bravely, and grabbed his neck with all the force she had left, pressing her fingers tightly across his veins.
Damon immediately stopped her by the wrist, and Bonnie winced in pain, as he twisted her arm, and easily pushed her away from him.
He wanted to help her- he really did. But he was gooing to lose his shit in two minutes if she didn't calm the fuck down. Damon was well-aware that he told Stefan he could handle this; he could take care of the witch who had presumably gone insane, from one too many dark spells, as his brother continued the plight to protect the doppelganger, and the town of Mystic Falls.
Stefan was better at being the hero, anyway. And Damon? Well, he was just better at playing the Bad Cop, and that was exactly what Bonnie needed right now. She needed someone to set her straight. And as the only person who felt he was even capable of being close to her level of bravado, Damon stepped up to the plate.
Damon was going to save the witch.
He was quickly knocked out of his thoughts, though, when he felt a firm hand slap him across the face, and the sting of Bonnie's hit radiated throughout his bones.
Damon inhaled a deep sigh to keep his composure, and he noticed a gentle smirk on Bonnie's face as he felt his anger slowly climbing.
"Oh, did I upset you?" she asked in a slick tone, that reminded him all too much of Katherine Pierce. "Do something, about it, Damon. I dare you."
Damon cocked his head to crack his neck, as Bonnie was the one to move in closer, this time.
The evil in eyes had turned to pure enjoyment, as she ran a slow finger down his cheek, and let out a saucy laugh, before gazing into his eyes.
He honestly didn't recognize the woman standing before him, at all.
She'd gone from reserved, moralistic, calm, and collected, to a taunting, teasing, loose canon.
He was used to crazy- he liked crazy- but he didn't like this. He didn't like an unfamiliar Bonnie Bennett. She was supposed to be the rock; she was supposed to hate him, but tolerate him long enough to be his partner in crime, and save the world, like only they knew how.
Without that, he had nothing. Elena didn't love him, Stefan was back on the rails, and Alaric was dead. Without Bonnie, he was left without a damn thing.
And he wouldn't dare settle for that.
Damon captured Bonnie's hand slowly, and the intrigue in her eyes grew, the moment he pulled her in closer, and quickly turned her around, to press her back against his chest.
Bonnie gasped at the transition, but smirked, all the while.
This Bonnie would play along; This Bonnie always did.
His palm ran smoothly up the side of her waist, and his lips nipped at her ear, while his fingers found her chest.
She'd been trying, from the very moment her darkness took over, to seduce him, and it almost worked, a few times. But when he remembered who she was- who she truly had been- he stopped himself.
She was still Bonnie; just not right now. But godwillingly, she would be, soon, because the psychotic bitch she had turned into just wasn't his cup of tea.
No matter how hot she looked in that black leather jacket, and dark leather jeans.
"Taking me up on my offer?" she asked smoothly, and Damon laughed easily, as he lowered his voice.
"Oh, c'mon Judgey- you know better than to dare me," he said, with a wink. "I have done something, and a little birdy tells me that you're not gonna like it," he said with a faux pout.
Bonnie immediately turned to face him- the rage filtering back into her eyes, as a smile developed across his face.
"Damon-"
"Congratulations! Your witchy juju powers have been been sedated. Better thank your mother, Abby, for the herbs," Damon said, as she stared at him maniacally.
Sure enough, her magic was gone, as she attempted to start a fire right before him, and there wasn't even so much as a spark.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, and Damon's eyes coursed over the body of the young witch, stopping at the areas where her clothes were ripped, and her skin had been donned with scrapes and bruises. "Why?" she screamed, as she pushed him against a hard wall, and breathed unsteadily at his expression.
Her normally long, dark hair, was wild at her shoulders, and her usually pretty green eyes were firm, but lost, as she stared at him with strong hurt in her gaze.
He'd never seen Bonnie like this.
"Because I'm saving you!" Damon finally yelled, as he stalked right back up to her, and she shook uncontrollably. "I'm saving your life, Bennett, because for some weird reason, I think you deserve that. Is that so hard to get?"
Bonnie remained silent as she realized the tear in his shirt, and the blood running along his arms, as he never dropped his eyes from hers. She suddenly felt nauseous when she recollected the ways in which she him sent him across the ground, sliced through his skin, and dropped him to his knees, all with her powers.
She'd done this to him, and here he was, to save her. What had she done to deserve that?
"It's hopeless," she said, as she wiped her forehead with her palm. "I'm gone," she said darkly. "The Bonnie Bennett you know is gone. And it's for the best."
Damon blinked, as he inhaled a long deep breath, and Bonnie felt his reluctant hand cup her cheek softly. She shut her eyes, and for a second, she felt normal, as the feeling of disarray slowly evaporated and all she could feel was him, as his touch became firmer.
"You know it's true," she stated, and he remained quiet. "If you can't fix me, you'll kill me. I know how this works."
Damon sighed, and his head felt as though it'd explode from sudden shift in her personality, again. She had gone from rageful, to spiteful, to lustful, to melancholy in a matter of minutes, and he didn't understand it.
The dark magic had really done a number on her psyche, and he only hoped they could fix it, before she faced the same fate that Alaric Saltzman did.
"I don't believe that, Witchy," Damon said, as he broke the silence, in a voice barely above a whisper. "And I might be an idiot for that but... I don't believe that you're gone."
Bonnie reopened her eyes, to glance into his once more. Her expression remained hard, though the feelings inside of her wanted to soften- wanted to believe him.
But she couldn't; she just didn't believe that she'd be okay, ever again.
She was a monster; she'd truly become one, in every sense of the word.
"You'll die trying to fix me, Damon," she said, as her eyes met his, and stared into them strongly. "You're never going to win. You never do. When will you learn that you're just a failure? You always will be," she said bluntly, as the shift happened once more; spiteful Bonnie, that time.
Damon shrugged, and Bonnie feel his uneasiness radiating off of him, as they remain locked in gaze that only faltered when she felt a sharp pain in her arm, and a slow wave of tiredness seeping over her, as the seconds passed.
She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't, as slow paralysis began to take over, causing her veins to stiffen up.
Bonnie watched as Damon placed the needle he jabbed her with back into his pocket, and she slowly dropped to her knees before him; bouncing in and out of conciousness, while her vision blurred.
"Failure isn't an option, Bonnie," he said in a soft tone, as her eyes blinked heavily. "Not for me, and especially not for you."
Her body fell to the ground, unconcious, as he stood over her.
It was the last she remembered of that night.
Bonnie glanced at Damon, and she shook her head quickly.
She didn't want this; she didn't need to relive this.
"I don't need anything, Damon," she said gently. "We...We agreed to this, okay? You weren't supposed to look for me; none of you were. I just wanted to be alone."
"I didn't 'agree' to anything, Bennett. Especially not that, and you know it. You just left- and you sure as hell didn't have my blessing," he noted. Bonnie remained silent, for a moment, as Damon stared at her with desperate eyes. "Is this really how it's going to be between us, Bonnie? After... everything?" he asked in a small tone.
She was hurting him, but he didn't want to show it. He'd shown it way too many times, before.
Bonnie looked beyond Damon, and she captured a mental image of the place all around her.
The neon lights, the skyscrapers, everything; it had all given her the strength to move on from the life she'd always known to the life that she was now sentenced to.
She'd left Mystic Falls and everyone in it, including Damon, for a reason, and she had no intentions of returning to the way things could have been.
She couldn't, even if she wanted to. She was finally okay, or something like it. He was going to ruin everything.
He was going to ruin her.
"I'm sorry," Bonnie said softly, and Damon's brows furrowed, as he watched her flag a cab, once more; this time successfully. "I-think you should go back. I'm... better off alone."
Damon didn't bother to respond, as Bonnie opened the car to get in; entering the cab graciously, as he stood there blankly.
"Damon," she started, and held up a hand to stop her speech.
Honestly, he didn't need to hear it. He'd come all the way there, because despite his best efforts to let her go, he hadn't. He hadn't dropped the witch who knew him better than anybody else, and challenged him more ways than one. He hadn't dropped the witch who could make him double think his actions with just a few simple words.
He hadn't dropped the witch who saved his life when he didn't deserve saving. But she dropped him; she always let go first.
"It seems you've got it all figured out, Judgey. You've got everything planned, and perfect, just like you always have... Let's just hope, for your sake, it works out."
Bonnie remained silent, and contemplated the words that passed his lips.
Things were far from "figured out," or "planned and perfect," for her. But she'd convinced herself she would be okay. Self-persuasion came at a very high cost, but she'd pay it.
She'd pay anything to be normal, again.
"Goodnight, Damon... Take care of yourself," she said with finality, and without another word, she watched the vampire walk away from her.
It felt like it was the very last time he'd walk away, and she was okay with that.
Bonnie slammed the door to the yellow cab behind her, and gazed out of the window, mindlessly, she traveled through the city-catching glimpses of all the happy people who had found a way to survive here.
She wanted to be one of those "happy people;" she desperately needed to be, for without happiness, she really didn't believe that she had anything else.
She'd find a way to survive, too. She was positive about that.
But without Damon, she just wasn't sure for how long.
A/N: Hello everyone! So as promised, I began a new Bamon fic after copping out on Somebody That I Used to Know, and this was chapter one. Im really apologetic about ending that fic, since I know a lot of you enjoyed it, but I didn't like the direction I was heading in. So, I was more comfortable with ending it, rather than ruining it. Now, as you can already see, this fic is going to be a bit more intense and much darker, as I work through relations with Bonnie and Klaus, Bonnie and Damon, and why our favorite girl seems to have lost her mind. Any guesses on what took place in Bonnie's past, that caused her to leave Mystic Falls? And why is Damon so concerned? And what's with the dreams (or nightmares) about Klaus? All will be answered, soon enough, but I'd love to hear your theories. :) I plan on taking Bonnie to some true extremes in this fic; ones that I think her character needs to face, but apparently won't, on the show, and I'm really excited about it. As always, reviews aren't a must, but theyre well appreciated! I love the way you all think :) So until next time? ;) xoxo