For "Guest", Kamille King, graviie, and EvaMedina.
We're getting there, slowly…
Kamille: I know, I'm sorry. This is a bit slow and chapters so far not very long. I'm trying to keep the wait a bit shorter between chapters, though, which kinda accounts for the chapter-length. Thanks so much for bearing with me. :)
…
"Enzo. Time to wake up."
A splitting pain has lodged itself deep within his head, making him feel like his brain has been cloven in half, and he wants to ignore that obnoxious voice calling out to him over and over again.
"Come on, sleeping beauty, if you don't want my dear father's goons over there to not so gently manhandle you out of this place, you'll have to get the hell up now and come with me. In case you didn't hear him earlier, Guiseppe has decided to throw us out. - You're welcome by the way."
Peeling his eyes open, he blinks against the too harsh light, running a hand over his face, digging his palm against the root of his nose before being able to stare up at Damon's too chipper face.
"Aaah, there he is." A hand slams down onto his shoulder with too much force, and Enzo grimaces, then notices the offered hand and takes it, letting Damon help him up.
That bloody bastard Guiseppe got him good this time. His vision is still hazy, a sense of vertigo making him bend over. He feels himself sway dangerously, unable to fight it. But then Damon's arm comes around him, holding him up.
"Easy, my friend. Don't want you to keel over again, do we? Come on, you know how this goes. One foot in front of the other."
"Did anyone ever tell you that you and your family are bloody annoying?"
Damon chuckles. "All the time. But trust me, you'll be glad about this newest development."
Somehow he doubted it…
"We get to find the girls, make sure I didn't turn dear BonBon. Gives you a chance to see Blondie again. I saw the way you looked at her."
Damon winks at him, his grin way too wide and happy, and Enzo rolls his eyes, instantly regretting it when it makes the pain intensify.
"Shut up."
"See? Exactly what I mean."
He did not look at the girl in the way Damon is insinuating. He was trying to clean up the bloke's mess, is all. Turning his head hurts like a bitch, but he does it anyway to glare at his friend, who is of course beaming at him like this is all just going to be some fun little adventure.
"Damon…" The warning in his tone should be obvious, but the bloke doesn't seem to care. As usual.
"Hi there." Damon is waving at a bunch of Guiseppe's lackeys who are standing by the door, looking grim when they both make their way through the doors of the med bay, and Enzo notices immediately that the men stay on their heels, following them. Unease takes ahold of him, making him tense up. But Damon beside him, his arm still slung around Enzo, seems oblivious.
He sighs, shaking himself loose to try and walk without help, more annoyed than anything when a surge of dizziness almost brings him down. Again, Damon puts his arm around him, tsk-ing.
"Don't be an idiot, sailor. Dear daddy did a number on you. You need to learn to better block these attacks, my friend. One would think you've learned how after all these years, but noooo…"
Closing his eyes, Enzo sighs, forcing himself to keep going.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Whatever?" Damon chuckles. "Aw, Lorenzo. I'm beginning to think you're just this stubborn because you like to torture yourself. Is it because of Lily? You trying to pay her back or something? Come on, man. That ain't healthy. It's yesterday's grudge. You need to let her go and move on. She screwed up, we get it. Now get over it already and help me with this. With the girl."
Damon continues on without a pause, and Enzo listens, too weary to fight against any of it. Damon isn't wrong. It is time to let bygones be bygones and the way he's been living his life - this second life - hasn't done him any good. Still. Moving on isn't so easy. Not when...
"So, I say we get our stuff and try to find a place to stay in the city. If we're quick about it, we might still find her at the hospital. You can be our ticket. We'll use your little run-in with daddy dearest as an excuse to have them check you over, and while they do that, I'll go looking for-"
Enzo stops in his tracks so abruptly that Damon startles to a halt beside him, brow furrowing. Placing a hand on his friend's chest, Enzo tilts his head to stare at him, ignoring the searing pain behind his eyes.
"Slow down, mermaid," he says, making Damon scoff.
"What?"
"I'm not gonna be your bait."
"That's a little harsh. You're not 'bait,' Enzo. You're just gonna have to-"
"I'm not gonna let anyone 'check me over' so you can clear up your mess."
Throwing his arms up in a theatrical motion, Damon rolls his eyes.
"Don't be difficult, Lorenzo." His voice grows higher toward the end, the only indicator that he's agitated and not as happy and cool as he's been pretending. The realization makes Enzo mellow out before anger can take over.
"Alright," he allows, then slowly continues to walk.
Damon nudges his side, the old grin back in place.
"You won't regret it, I promise. This way we'll be done and back by the ocean before you know it. We'll just keep an eye on her until the next full moon, make sure she doesn't take another involuntary swim, and we're good. Sound okay?"
"Do we have a choice?"
"Nope."
Damon looks a little too happy.
Outside, It has grown chilly, a soft wind making the remaining few leaves in the trees rustle and Enzo looks up briefly before they make their way over to one of the small little houses not far from them. This is happening, isn't it? They'll have to leave this place and go to the city. Find the girl. Leave the sea behind. The thought makes his throat tighten, a slight tremor go through his body.
"You alright, kid?"
"Huh?"
Damon's eyes are gleaming in the sparse light of the moon, real concern visible in them now.
"You're not worried, are you? - Listen, I'll have Stefan keep taps on the old man and tell me when he is gone so we can get a swim in every so often. We won't have to stay away completely. After all, even the king can't have his eyes on the whole ocean at all times."
"Yeah…"
He can't be without the sea. They can't...
"Come on. Let's get moving."
…
The small shed is illuminated by just a few old-fashioned lamps, but Damon doesn't need much light to pack a bag. This will be over soon, and he will be able to return to the sea and his family, and this village. Just a few weeks, easy as pie.
Shooting Enzo a covert glance, he sees his friend pack his own bag, his expression dark and haunted-looking, and Damon feels a sudden pang of guilt. They're not cut out for a life among the earth-dwellers. Enzo maybe a little more than Damon because he used to be one of them, once. But it was a long time ago. He knows they'll both be struggling, and it will be his fault.
Away from the ocean, from everyone and everything that is familiar, they'll have to try and not draw too much attention to themselves and something tells him that that is not going to be so easy. It won't help anyone if he lets the thought drag him down, however, so he allows himself a few sips of the strong and burning moonshine he keeps hidden in his nightstand, offering the bottle to Enzo with a soft clink against wood. His friend accepts the bottle with a brief nod, then lifts it to his lips with a quick, "To new adventures," and Damon can't help but chuckle.
"To new adventures," he says out loud and turns back to his task, shoving pants and shirts and a handful of other things in his bag, like the necklace his grandmother gave him - coral and silver, two books, one of them an empty diary that he's never had the inclination to fill, and a small jar with beach sand that will have to be his anchor of sorts. Because he'll be gone for a while and despite what he told Enzo, he doubts that they'll be able to go anywhere near the beach or the ocean anytime soon.
He's never been away from it… Already, the yearning is growing stronger inside of him, and it's only been a few hours since he's emerged out of the depths of the sea. He can feel it in his very cells, the need to go back, to swim, to let the waves carry him away. But it won't be happening, not for a while. Enzo might soon hate him for it.
He should probably be more upset about it, more… uneasy. But then he remembers her - the dark girl with the bright eyes and warm skin, the earthen one that has somehow begun to take up space in his heart. He doesn't regret saving her. He doesn't regret a thing. If he gets to see her for a few last days, just a month, just until the full moon has passed, it'll have been worth it. And then, then they can all return to their routines, to their usual selves and normal lives, to go hunting for fish and scraping off mussels and fighting petty fights with his father and all will be as it always was. As it should be, with him by the water, and her on land, out of his life, out of his mind.
Except…
Biting his lip, he shakes his head, trying to stay focused when he sees her image appear before him again. That moment when she opened her eyes - green like the sea - and looked up at him with an unwavering stare, and it felt like… a missing part of him had finally returned.
…
It's exactly 48 hours later and Bonnie is so ready to leave this place and go home. She's had enough of the constant hint of salt and seaweed in the air outside wafting in through the window and hallway, she's had enough of her Grams's worried sideways glances, and she's most definitely had enough of this antiseptic smelling hospital. So when her doctor walks over with the papers to release her, she exhales with relief, jumping out of bed before the man has finished talking.
"I see you're eager to leave, Ms. Bennett." His smile is warm and kind, sending a shiver through Bonnie. The man is young, and cute. He'd totally be perfect dating material - but he's her doctor. Forcing herself to smile back at least sort of convincingly, she nods her head, exchanging a brief glance with her Grams, then with Caroline, who's waving at her from the hallway.
"Well, in that case, be on your way. Everything looks good here. But you will have to take it very easy. No strenuous activities for a few weeks, no sports until your ribs have healed, and most importantly, no dips into the ocean."
She chuckles a little too readily, wanting to roll her eyes at herself. The doctor will think she's a stupid teenager with a crush if she doesn't get a grip on herself.
"Yeah, as lovely as your little town here is, I think I've had enough of the sea and the beach for the foreseeable future."
"I can't blame you. Well, good luck then, Ms. Bennett…"
The way he trails off and lingers as he hands over the papers tells her that she'd have a chance with him. His eyes meet hers, stay locked, the seconds stretching as both of them smile. Maybe she should ask him out. Maybe she should wait and get out of here first and then turn around so that…
Her train of thought comes to a jarring halt when she catches a glimpse of something - someone - moving behind him, in the hallway. Smile freezing then fading, her attention moves away from the handsome doctor before her even as she grips the papers he's holding out to her.
"Thank you," she mutters, looking past him, her brow furrowing as she's trying to process what she thinks she saw.
Her gaze meets Caroline's. Caroline, who frowns at her now, shaking her head with incomprehension.
"What?" she mouths at her, but Bonnie can't even shrug her shoulders.
"Excuse me…" She pats the doc's arm, a light touch that doesn't bear any importance, no sparks flying, nothing, as she walks past him, then her Grams who shoots her a questioning look, and even Caroline.
"Uh… of course," she hears the poor man say somewhere behind her, but she's already well on her way, determined now, she doesn't even know why or what she thinks she saw, but it's important. More than anything else.
"Bonnie. Bon! Hey… What's going on?" Caroline's hand reaches out, grabs her arm, and Bonnie glances at her for just a second before she continues on, shaking her off.
"I'm sorry, Care, I need to… I think I saw someone."
"Someone, who?"
"Bonnie Sheila Bennett. Where do you think you're going?!"
Swallowing, she stops in her tracks at hearing that second voice, her heart beating too fast in her chest. Maybe she can leave her best friend in her wake, but she sure as hell can't do the same with her grandma.
"Grams, I'm sorry, but-"
"No 'but.' - You, my dear, need to come right back here."
"Grams…"
"Now."
The old woman's tone brokers no argument, and when Bonnie turns around to look at her, Sheila has her hands pushed against her hips, chin raised. No, she won't let Bonnie go on her ridiculous quest for whatever the hell it even is that she's looking for - that she thought she saw.
Biting the inside of her lip, she contemplates her next move. It's ridiculous. Thinking about it now, she doesn't even know what she thinks she saw, what made her bolt out of the room like that. Or does she?
Letting her head droop, she sighs, then begins to walk back with slow steps, until she feels Caroline's grip on her arm again, this time much firmer than before.
"Bonnie…," she whisper-gasps, her tone raising alarms.
Frowning at her friend, Bonnie follows her gaze, follows it past a row of empty chairs and a small vending machine, past a few people walking down the hallway, and then lands straight on…
Two men standing in front of the nurses' station, one with his arm around the other's shoulders, both of them wearing strange old-fashioned pants and white shirts - as if they have just emerged out of some historic flick or other.
Blinking, she makes sure her eyes are still working properly, but when she exchanges a glance with Caroline, she knows that she's not the only one seeing them. Staring up ahead, she watches them while she hears her friend ramble beside her, sounding strangely distraught.
"Those must be costumes, right? No one in their right mind wears clothes like that. They look like they're straight out of the past. Maybe… maybe there's a town fair going on. We haven't exactly had the time to check out this place, but it's cute enough to have some kind of folklore market going on, right? This could be a tourist attraction. Like… like those civil war reenactments back home. - And either way, I kinda dig the outfits. Sorry, I don't even know why I keep…" Caroline stops, and Bonnie is vaguely aware of her friend's brow creasing before she continues. "Bonnie? You alright?"
"That's him," she mutters, the few words so hard to say, but it's true. It is him, the one from her… dream, or whatever it was. Memory? She can see the side of his profile now, his nose, his almost chiseled looking cheekbones, a light stubble visible on them, and the flicker of bright eyes.
"Him? You mean that guy, that 'Damon'?!" Caroline asks, her pitch higher now, high enough to make Bonnie cringe… and loud enough to make said man turn around.
Oh gosh…
His brows are pulled together in a frown, but there's still a remnant of a smile on his face when his eyes meet Bonnie's, and then the world stops spinning.
