She regretted that at one point she wanted to live like a doll. That she wanted someone to dress her in pretty gowns, brush her hair, and make her fall in love with her anatomically correct equal where they'd then retire to California, drive around in a pink convertible and live in a beach house. Sarah Nelson regretted that she thought it would be nice to have someone else control her strings.

She was learning it wasn't so fun after all.

The heat from the fire burning in the grate in the kitchen warmed her legs. She couldn't move an inch, poised as she was at the dinner table, palms flat on the wooden surface, a plate of cooling potato soup and a glass of water in front of her. Her tears had long dried when she was told to stop crying and smile. Her skin pulled where her tears had left behind their salty tracks, and she was positive she'd have some kind of nerve and muscle damage once she was told to stop smiling.

A woman bustled around the kitchen that Sarah occasionally followed with her gaze. She had never seen the woman a day in her life until she literally popped up in front of her with Enzo in tow. Enzo. That bastard was responsible for this, Sarah seethed. Calling her out of the blue wanting to apologize for something—he'd been vague—but sweetened the deal by offering to buy her coffee and answer any questions she had. And Sarah had had a ton. Since the summer her life had been…weird. Strange people approaching her, saying things to her she wouldn't remember five minutes later. Her friend Monique had gone missing and no one seemed to give a damn.

"You're not eating your soup, Sarah."

Her heart jumped at the sound of the woman's voice. Sarah eyed the bowl, throat working as she swallowed. Eating was the last thing she felt she could do without throwing up.

Sarah had been ordered not to ask to go home. This was her home now but this place was so cold and dark. She tensed as the woman neared her, looming. Sarah turned her head to stare. If she could see where she was, she could see what her captor was doing. Was she wielding a knife? A gun? Rope? A saw?

"You should eat," Lily arched a brow pointedly at the untouched food before bringing her ice-blue eyes to Sarah. "You're a lovely girl. Would hate to see you waste and wither away to skin and bones. That wouldn't be becoming would it? So eat."

Sarah's hand moved without her doing. She picked up the spoon and dug it into the bowl and inserted the helping of soup into her mouth. She chewed the potatoes, reluctantly savored the rich creaminess of the cheddar cheese, bacon bits, and chives.

Lily looked on in approval. "That's better." Feeling reflective she said, "I know this must be confusing for you but you're handling yourself admirably. In many ways you remind me of Valerie. She's headstrong, observant. Nora is as well, in fact," Lily giggled, "all of my girls are, Mary-Louise included. Malcolm tries to keep everything in order but they do love to test his patience. Beau, he's the most reasonable of the bunch. They're not like my sons. My spoiled, entitled sons.

"Anyways, I think Beau would take a liking to you. He's always happy to serve, but he's also the loneliest in my family. Yes, I think you two would hit it off quite nicely."

Sarah merely blinked though internally she was screaming. She had heard the stories about trafficked girls. Oh God was she about to become one of them? A woman picked off her campus with none the wiser, sold into the sex slave industry. No. No!

She couldn't ask when she could go home but she had the willpower to say, "I will give you hell before I let you sell me into prostitution."

Lily was genuinely taken aback. Her nose wrinkled and she took a step away from Sarah. "Prostitute—no. That's not my intention."

"Then what is your intention? I'm not looking for a sugar daddy or a pimp!"

"My Beau is neither one of those things…though I am unsure of what you mean by sugar daddy. I'm assuming it's something untoward, and Beau is too much of a gentleman to—"

"I don't fucking care what or who he is!" Sarah sputtered as her throat was seized. She unwillingly looked at Lily whose pupils dilated.

"That is enough talking for tonight." Veins rippled beneath her eyes that were slowly turning red. Lily felt her inner demon thrashing and screaming to be let out. But she suppressed her innate urge to slaughter. By the skin of her teeth. When she was calm she compelled the girl again. "Eat your soup and retire upstairs to your room, and don't leave until I come for you."

Lily snatched her hand away and left the kitchen altogether, the sounds of Sarah's coughing and retching following in her wake. She went straight for her cell phone and called Enzo to see where he was.

Her lips still tingled and it was a full day later. What would happen the minute Damon walked through the door? Would she slowly rise from the couch, face him, and wait for Damon to cross the room to her? Would she have the patience to wait that long or run and leap into his arms like she did in the Salvatore kitchen? Would he smile, smirk, wear no expression at all? Would he expect them to have sex?

Did she want to?

Well, yeah, at some point. But tonight? Bonnie nibbled her thumbnail. No. Tonight would be too soon. Bonnie refused to repeat history by giving herself to Damon the day after his break up. He would need time to process and deal with his baggage, and she had enough patience to wait until the time was right, to wait until she no longer lived under any kind of doppelanger shadow.

She reached for her favorite jeans (that she caught Damon staring at her ass out the corner of his eye when she wore them) and one of her lacy tank tops from 1994. She applied lotion to her legs, arms, and feet before sliding into her clothes. Once done, she brushed her sewn-in and made a note to get it taken out, refreshed her mascara, lined her lips and glossed them, and sprayed perfume behind her ears, wrists, and the center of her chest. She squinted at her appearance feeling something was missing but couldn't put a finger on what.

"My green eyes," she murmured. "That's what's missing." Bonnie leaned closer to the mirror over the bathroom sink. Burnished gold and orange reflected back at her, no hint or trace of green to be found.

She thought back to her latest session with her mentor.

"I have questions…" Bonnie moistened her lips as she fell into step with Dahlia.

Moving through the trees in a graceful gait that was borderline ethereal, Dahlia said, "About how to control, well it isn't necessarily a new gift as it is your magic, it's just now it can be amplified beyond conventional measurement. Is it cumbersome?"

Bonnie thought before answering, "No. Not for me but for others around me. My eyes, will they always be like this?"

"Do you believe this is my natural eye color?" Dahlia stared at her askance.

"No."

Dahlia expounded. "It is a physical manifestation of what I anchored my magic to. There is no change for it."

Bonnie deflated a little.

"Though, I daresay you alone can alter the color of your eyes at will. Over time. To suit whatever vanity reasons you feel inclined to exploit."

It wasn't much but it made Bonnie feel a bit less extraterrestrial. One day she'd have perfect control. Until that day arrived, guess she would just have to learn to adapt to any physical changes that may pop up. Leaving the bathroom, Bonnie checked the time. An hour and a half had gone by and Damon still hadn't arrived.

The bad, worrisome feeling in Bonnie's stomach she tried diligently to ignore, metastasized. Her town was cursed, Whitmore right along with it. Terrible things were always happening, and more often than not, Damon was at its center as either the cause or its pawn.

She dialed him again.

"The person you are trying to reach is unavailable—"

"Ugh," she cried in frustration. Something was wrong. Could feel it in her gut. It had been too good to be true to think nothing would interfere with…whatever could have happened tonight. Of course the universe would say 'not so fast' the minute she decided to put her feelings and happiness above the prior center of her universe—Elena.

Bonnie's scalp tingled and she constantly cricked her neck. She felt her power expanding inside of her like a bag being filled with sand. She flew downstairs trying to meditate and pace at the same time. Damon probably got caught up arguing with Lily, or maybe Elena showed up, cornered him, and was currently trying to convince Damon to take her back. Or, he's lying in a ditch somewhere. None of those possibilities made her feel good.

"Where are you?"

The anxious witch heard Dahlia's voice in her head again.

"There are ways to stave off the energy so that it doesn't overwhelm you, witchling. Acolytes."

"You mean…like a coven?"

"Acolytes do not always entail people. You need additional eyes and ears when you yourself cannot be in two places at once," Dahlia circled Bonnie. Something she was apparently fond of doing. "We are all but vessels and there are some of us who can leap into other vessels. That is the kind of channeling I'm talking about. Let me show you."

Coarse and callused hands wrapped around Bonnie's. Their lids closed. The younger tried clearing her mind of the showdown in the diner, and focus on her breathing and the sounds of wildlife in the forest. Her brows twitched once Dahlia began her ominous humming.

Suddenly Bonnie was jumping up into a void that left her dizzy and breathless.

The air was colder and moving faster. It was like flying only she knew she was still rooted on the ground. Higher she went, dipping, bopping and weaving like a loose balloon. A bird flew below her and then she was soaring northwest, wings flapping, the wind rushed through her soft feathers. Looking down, she saw trees, the ground, and budding bushes. Beneath one was a peak of sable fur. It was a rabbit and next her little nose was sniffing for food while hopping along the hard earth. A beetle scuttled along and she was on the hunt for a particular flower because her belly ached terribly with hunger. A leaf landed on her and once again she was off in the air, at the complete mercy of gravity. She landed in something wet.

Bonnie's eyes snapped open and her mouth hung in the shape of an O. Had she really just jumped from lifeform to lifeform without even thinking about it? Giddiness bubbled up but was quickly extinguished.

Jolted, Bonnie charged outside. She no longer needed the person's belongings or the blood of a relative to do a locator spell. She had eyes and ears all over the place thanks to what Dahlia taught her, and what she retained from her days of being under Expression. She scanned the area around her. The trees, the bushes, the concrete under her feet, the dark sky and dim stars. The sun was long gone but she felt its warmth as if it were beaming down on her. Could smell its radiation.

She pulled it towards her. She was the center of gravity.

Her hair fell from her shoulders, but Bonnie would swear fingers had swept it aside. She tensed, not out of fear, but pleasure. The non-touch caressed her neck as something hard pressed along her back to the point she could slump against it if she wanted to. Her weight was being supported.

A lifeform was careening straight for her. The shape was indistinguishable. It could have been anything. Until…

Bonnie heard the flap of wings right before a large owl flew right at her. Instinctively she ducked out of the way, but the bird changed trajectory at the last possible second, banking a hard right before flying north.

She was hit from the side.

Her legs kicked at the empty air and she gritted her teeth the moment her back slammed into the side of the house. The pungent aroma of rust and metal flew up her nose. She grimaced at the fetid smell.

It took a split second for Bonnie to realize that it was not the wind breathing on her neck, but a thing. Moist air brushed her slender throat as a taunt that if she moved, it would be slit. Now that the shock was fading, Bonnie could determine the weight and shape of the object pressed against her, its fingers burrowing into her arms sure to leave bruises. Male. Above average height. Strong. Vampire.

Her eyes were pierced closed, but little by little she opened them, sunset orange glowing beneath the harsh motion sensor light beaming from the garage.

She turned her head.

Stefan Salvatore smiled down at her. Rakishly. His demented smile dimmed a bit in cockiness once the vampire got a good look at her.

Bonnie could ask what Stefan was doing here. He could ask what the fuck happened to her eyes. Both would have been pointless questions because the answers were more than obvious.

"I'm only going to tell you this once, Stefan, let me go."

"You've changed," he replied facetiously. "And you should know how this works, Bonnie. Ah, I've missed you. No, seriously. I might not have given you a second thought when I thought you and Damon died; the last eight or so days I've been held like a caged animal at a romantic retreat…I can say I've missed being able to see," he made no bones about dragging his gaze down the entire length of her body pausing chauvinistically on her breasts. "Those."

Stefan cackled when the first stirrings of an aneurysm hit him. "Fight me," he gritted through the pain, "and you'll never see your stupid bear again."

Bonnie drew back her magic. A divot formed between her brows.

"That's right. I managed to get something's before my precious mother had the name on the deed on the house changed. I wonder how much Bennett magic would fetch on the witchy black market."

The young witch glowered.

"That isn't the only leverage I have," he continued. "I also know you have the ascendant. Lily doesn't know its missing, but it wouldn't take much to inform her, and you'd have yet another problem on your hands."

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Good question. I'm not like Klaus. I don't want to be all-powerful. Being a ripper is more than enough. And I'm certainly nothing like my stupid ass brother. I'm not looking for someone to love and accept me. Yet the one thing I've never had, truly had was a witch," Stefan pressed closer to Bonnie, one of his knees sliding between hers, widening the gulf between her thighs. "My brother has kept you all to himself. He took my girl. Should only be fair I took his witch."

Nostrils flared, Bonnie had to constantly soothe her magic into submission because she kept visualizing ripping Stefan a part limb from limb. He and Damon may have only been able to get along a few times out of the year, Bonnie didn't need it spelled out Damon wouldn't forgive her if she killed Stefan. Even if his murder was justifiable.

"So this is all about revenge because of Elena?"

Stefan scoffed. "No, this is about my brother constantly fucking me over and walking away without so much as a paper cut."

"What did you do to him?"

Coldness radiated from Stefan but it paled to the heat that was undulating across Bonnie's skin. A heat Stefan was slowly becoming aware of. Sweat beaded from his hairline and across his upper lip. Yet it was what was happening on the inside of his body that was interesting. His organs, heart in particular were beginning to bubble. He wobbled a little, shook his head to clear his vision that blurred.

"What makes you think I've done something to Damon?" he coughed.

"You might not care about a lot of things, but you wouldn't pass up the opportunity to hurt him. You said it yourself. He's screwed you over and walked away unscathed."

Stefan chuckled but didn't respond.

Bonnie gripped him by the back of the neck and tugged him down. Stefan's eyes widened, but then his lids shuttered to about half-mast. Their lips nearly grazed as she said, "Where is he?"

"How badly do you want to know? What are you willing to do to find out where he is?" Stefan thrust his hard dick against Bonnie's stomach. "I have everything you need, Bon. Your bear. The possible location of my brother, and your secret about the ascendant."

"Actually that makes two of us who knows her secret about the ascendant."

Stefan swiveled then snarled at the interloper. "Motherfucker."

Enzo ambled up the driveway, thumb working over the keyboard on his phone. He glanced up, brows arched, forehead heavily lined as if he were waiting for Bonnie and Stefan to continue.

She knew what Stefan was set to do before he did it. Being as volatile as he was when it came to killing that's where he lacked versatility. There were three ways for a vampire to kill one of its kind: Stake through the heart, pulling out the heart, or decapitation. Snapping a neck was merely for incapacitation.

"Stefan, NO!" Bonnie ordered as if he were a dog that had gotten out of the house.

Enzo made an attempt to flee but found his boots glued to the ground. Stefan was frozen in mid-run.

"What the hell are you doing?" he spat toward Bonnie who looked on quizzically.

"I'm not doing anything," she denied.

Bonnie sensed the change but didn't feel it as actuely as the vampires did. It was like a mountain planted itself right there, unseen, commanding, oppressing. Bonnie glanced around. Her magic, it was hard to describe, but it felt like it was...welcoming what had already arrived but had to yet to show itself.

But she knew who was here.

The owl from earlier was back having landed a foot away from Enzo and it was getting…bigger. Its form taking on the shape of…Bonnie blinked.

Black wings became arms, feathers became clothes, the beak shrunk into a nose, and in seconds Dahlia was decanted in her human form.

"Witchling, I've been teaching you so much I've forgotten to have a little fun for myself. Do you mind?"

Bonnie folded her arms. "Please. Go right on ahead. Enjoy yourself. But be careful with that one," she hitched her chin toward Stefan. "He has information I need."

Dahlia started humming and the vampires started groaning.

Enzo mumbled a string of incoherent gibberish in a British accent Bonnie was beginning to think was fake.

"I do despise vampires who spy on witches. Have you no respect?" Dahlia cranked up the notch as she delivered pain. Enzo howled feeling his ribs splinter and crack. This slag is going for my heart, he grunted in agony and arched his back to silently plead with Bonnie to help him. However, he was very mistaken on what Dahlia was up to.

"You think you can rule us? Play us like chess pieces?" she laughed lightly. "You are sadly mistaken."

Bonnie had no idea what Dahlia was doing to Enzo other than to say she was literally turning him into a pretzel. His torso began to elongate and twist into the shape of a Twizzler. The way his legs and arms were contorted and bent…wait was that…her orbs stretched as an additional arm and leg sprouted from, it hurt Bonnie to even look.

Enzo's screams were deafening. Bonnie thought she might be sick yet she was perversely excited. Stefan's eyes were so enlarged they were in danger of falling out of his head. Was that going to be done to him? He almost lost control of his bladder at the mere thought of it and somewhere deep he felt a crack in the ice surrounding his conscience.

"I don't really care why either of you decided to come here, but if you do so again, you'll wish that I do to you then what I'm doing to you now because it'll be much worse. And I don't make idle threats," Dahlia glowered.

A moment later she released Enzo from her clutches and flung him off the property by simply whistling.

Bonnie waited a beat before strolling over to Stefan. She clamped her fingers on his scalp, dug into his memories and no, she wasn't nice about it. Her pupils dilated at the incursion of information streaming from Stefan's mind into her own. She saw things Bonnie hoped wouldn't give her nightmares, but there in the center of it was Damon, floating face down in a dark pit of stones buried in the earth. A well. The same well where Mason Lockwood had hidden the moonstone.

Bonnie ripped her hands away and ran to grab her keys and phone. The vampire mentally wailed for Bonnie not to leave him alone.

Stefan was still under the clutches of Dahlia's spell, unable to move an inch in any direction, at her total mercy. She approached, deliberately slow, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, her head tilted curiously as if he were a rare artifact on display. His lips moved but he couldn't control his speech. Words were garbled sounds of frustration.

"Vampires without their humanity are inexplicably useless. Rippers even more so. How many years have you searched for purpose?"

Dahlia was a hairsbreadth away, so close Stefan felt her breath fan on his cheek each time she opened her mouth to speak. And those eyes, those terrible eyes had him completely convinced he was staring at a werewolf.

"I can give you purpose."

Bonnie raced out of the house and did a double take. She paused at her car door and wondered what her mentor was up to. "What are you doing?"

Dahlia eased away from Stefan. "Before I release you, you will give Bonnie what is hers and you will do so within twelve hours. If not…I'll finish with you what I started with the other one. Am I understood?"

Stefan swallowing was answer enough. With a twitch of her head, he was freed from the spell. He resisted massaging his muscles, glared at Bonnie and Dahlia before making a hasty retreat.

"He would make a good familiar would he not? He just needs to be broken."

"He's been broken enough."

"Broken in all the bad ways, yes. Never forget, witchling, there is a good way to break something."

Bonnie could argue the night away, but she had a best friend to literally pull out of a well.

He crawled out of the ocean to the sand, water crashing against him, cascading over his shoulders, obscuring his face. He remained there on all fours, fingers flexing in the sand, chest heaving. He was exhausted as if he swam from England straight to this shore.

He was kneeling now, one foot planted deep in the sand and he was beginning to rise. His dark hair was plastered to his cheeks and head, which was averted away from the moon. His smell, sandalwood mixed with hints of the sea, he tilted his head in that way that always flattered his profile though he didn't possess a bad angle.

He smiled, shockingly white teeth flashing in the darkness. Blue, glowing blue eyes twinkled.

"Hello…judgy."

His dream faded and awareness came flooding in.

It was the quiet groan that had her abandoning the chair to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Damon?"

His breath hitched, chest rising and falling several seconds later. His jaw loosened and finally she was staring into those baby blues. An indescribable shade of blue that could grow hot, cold, ice, and smoldering interchangeably; or during the course of a conversation. For the moment they were the blue of the ocean surrounding a sandy beach.

Bonnie traced his jaw, his cheeks, the column of his throat. "Hey."

His hand cupped her cheek. "Hey."

"This may be a stupid question because you heal fast, but how do you feel?"

Damon felt flashes of pain here and there in his neck and other than being tired, he was, "Fine. I'm fine. You weren't hurt, were you?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"You're not just saying that so I won't worry, are you?"

"For once I didn't end up a bleeding mess on the floor. I'm okay."

Damon sighed in relief, "What…?"

"Stefan snapped your neck and threw you into the Lockwood well," Bonnie quickly answered. "With Alaric and Matt's grudging help, they were able to pull you out. I fed you a blood bag when we made it back here."

"Damn, shit," he whispered. He was quiet for a beat, then, "I'm sorry I keep getting jumped and kidnapped. I should be…a way better vampire than I am by now."

"Not even Klaus is invulnerable."

Stroking her cheek one final time, Damon let his hand flop to the mattress. He rolled his head away from her but Bonnie wasn't having that. She caught his chin and forced him to look at her.

"Don't do that. Don't start to feel sorry for yourself. We have…there's a lot going on and I need you focused. When you're focused that's when you're at your strongest, Damon."

He said nothing but minutely nodded. "You're right. Before Stefan snapped my neck—where's the little asshole?"

"Gone. He came by talking a lot of shit but saying nothing. He has Miss Cuddles. Threatened to sell her on the witchy black market if such a thing exists."

"Probably does."

"Enzo showed up and overheard everything, and what he learned he told Lily so she knows I have the ascendant."

"Shit. She has my niece."

Bonnie's brows knitted together. "Your niece?"

"The one I told you about…the worst day of my life, the reason why I thought we were stuck repeating May 10, 1994."

"Oh."

"She didn't die with…her mother. She apparently survived, and knowing Stefan he must have watched over her until she was strong enough to be put up for adoption; and checked on her from time to time. Why didn't he tell me?" Damon asked that question more to himself than to Bonnie which she figured and remained quiet. "That's not important. What is, is the fact that my mother found her, kidnapped her, and had the deed to the boardinghouse put in her name. I need to get her out of there." Damon frowned. Bonnie was staring off into space.

She came to a moment later. "She's okay. She's sleeping in Stefan's room."

Dark brows arched high, "You can see her?"

Bonnie ducked her head a bit, pride twinkling in those sunset-golden eyes. "Yep. I learned another valuable trick from Dahlia."

Damon grunted. He was learning to keep his own counsel when it came to the antique witch. Still it wasn't easy for him to let go in this regard because history proved that anytime someone had shown an interest in Bonnie it was to use her and ultimately leave her for dead. His belly rolled because he had been one of those self-centered monsters who didn't give a shit who had to bleed or die so long as he got what he wanted.

He shifted uneasily in bed. "My brother has your bear?"

"He has twelve hours to surrender it or Dahlia's going to go looking for him. That was the edict she issued before letting him go."

"Hmm. Think he's going to follow through?"

"If he doesn't want additional legs and arms growing out of his nipples and groin, yeah," Bonnie shrugged.

Damon would dissect that later. He realized, belatedly, he was naked. Unable to contain it, a corner of his lip lifted in a smirk. Who undressed him? His drinking buddy? Definitely not Matt. Or the sorceress seated beside him?

"What are you smiling about?"

Damon glanced down at his chest then up at Bonnie before waggling his brows. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I undressed you and no, I did not look."

"Boo. Why not?"

"Because you were unconscious and I couldn't…I wasn't going to take advantage of you in that way," Bonnie fidgeted and felt her temperature rising.

"I wouldn't have minded."

Bonnie sighed and moistened her lips. "We need to stay on track here."

Damon wasn't going to make it easy by complying. He curled on his side a little and lightly drew designs on Bonnie's leg.

She cleared her suddenly dry throat. "Alaric filled me in on what's been going on with Jo and her idea that she might be able to destroy the 1903 prison world—honestly I wasn't listening. We've been here before. I've been here before. The Kai issue—"

Damon shushed her by putting two fingers on her lips. "You don't need to worry about that right now. Right now," his voice became huskier, "we need to take care of something?"

"What?"

Anchoring a hand on the nape of her neck, Damon pulled Bonnie forward and halted just before kissing her. The warmth of his body jumped to hers and spread everywhere. Her heart beat erratically, undecided if it wanted to stop or simply thump uncontrollably like a maniac. He grinned at the sound and crushed her mouth on his. Any shred of timidity was gone. Their mouths slid one over the other, loudly, wetly. Damon gently plunged his tongue in Bonnie's orifice, coaxing hers to roll over his, taste it, eat it.

It was eating ice cream on the hottest day of the year good.

Sex was foremost in Bonnie's mind. It was undoubtedly on Damon's because his hard shaft dug into her stomach. Would she even be able to? She couldn't forget the curls of smoke that waltzed out of Damon's mouth after their feverish kiss on the side of the road. She hadn't been fully aroused so what would happen when she was? Flames, fire, smoke?

Damon felt her resisting, attempting to pull away. "Straddle me," he managed to say between kisses.

Bonnie did.

The only thing between them was the thin barrier of the sheet. His hands trailed down the curve of her spine all the way to her ass which he grabbed and kneaded. Squeaks segued into deep moans as Bonnie's hips thrust a little. Damon tilted his up meeting her downward grind. Just that small amount of friction had him feeling violently engorged.

Her tongue became that of a hot poker. It singed his mouth and he was beginning to feel blisters forming. The signals were blaring he should stop before she incinerated him but he just…couldn't. He always tapped danced with danger. Always stood too close to the tipped point of a stake. Always goaded the god of death to take him out and make it permanent if he had the fucking balls to do it. Centuries on earth and he still had zero self-preservation.

Bonnie pushed against his chest and tried to wiggle free. "Stop," she mumbled between their joined lips. "Damon!" She yanked again.

Their lips disconnected with an audible smack.

Bonnie inhaled a large breath as if she had been submerged under water. Damon gasped as well, but it more than likely had to do with the fact his skin was inflamed and pink where Bonnie had accidentally burned him. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his puckered skin healed.

Climbing off him and the bed altogether, Bonnie paced. With the flick of her hand, the windows opened and cool air rushed inside the sweltering bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Damon pushed himself up to his elbows.

"I should be asking you that." She began muttering to herself.

"Bonnie…look at me."

She hesitated three times before being able to.

"It's okay. It's okay if you're not ready."

She chortled blithely. "I didn't want to stop because I'm not ready. I stopped because I could have killed you."

"Death by orgasm, not a bad way to go."

"Damon…" Bonnie planted her hands on her hips. "I get stronger and still don't know how to rein it in. How not to let it consume and overtake."

"Give yourself some credit. You anchored your magic to the fucking sun! How many witches could do that and survive? And it's only been a few days. You're twenty years old. I don't know why you feel like you have to be like, I don't know, Dumbledore."

Bonnie snorted and went still the moment Damon tossed off the sheet and shot out of bed. She couldn't help where her eyes went, where they landed, what they saw, what they lingered on. There was not an ounce of Damon that was flaccid that was for certain. The closer he came, the higher her chest rose.

Approaching the witch who stared at him in such a way that would have punched the breath out of him, Damon noticed she was dressed in one of his plaid shirts that stopped mid-thigh, the sleeves covering her hands. Seeing Bonnie in his shirt made him think of the night they were reunited. The smash of her breasts on his chest when she launched herself at him, the smell of earth caked on the bottom of her boots, the fragrance of pine and snow in her hair and clothes, the cinnamon heat of her body, her laughter—the happiest sound he ever heard her make.

He framed her cheeks with his hands, craned her head at just the right angle. He missed her green eyes but these were just as beautiful and haunting. Troubled. Filled with secrets waiting to be salvaged. A second flashed where he didn't feel worthy to even touch her. It passed when Bonnie delicately wrapped a hand around his wrist, a silent acceptance. For so long he had craved the warmth found in a pair of brown orbs, had wrapped his identity into being the last man standing in a swirl of chocolate doe-eyes. He hadn't appreciated any other gaze and now seeing himself reflected in Bonnie's new, extraterrestrial irises he felt like a monumental idiot. But he had been convinced that only one woman would do. Staring into those burnished-gold pools revealed something else to Damon.

"I'm sorry," he said with total sincerity. "I'm sorry for the times I made you feel like you were useless, powerless, and by my actions told you I wouldn't have cared if you died."

Bonnie blinked. An apology was the last thing she expected from Damon. A come on, sure. A joke, yeah. An act of contrition, never in a million years.

"Hell, I made you feel like that regardless of the times you helped save my ass," he was saying. "I'm sorry I never acknowledged your beauty, your intelligence. I spent a lot of time being an idiot thinking because I've lived longer, experienced more life I knew what the hell I was doing. I didn't have a fuckin' clue. You don't need to feel like you have to be a certain kind of person or witch, Bon. It's not on you to fix the world. It's on all of us."

"I…" her throat was in a vice.

"Whether you have magic or not, whether you can handle it or not, you're perfect the way you are. Don't let me or anyone get in your head to tell you anything different," Damon concluded.

Bonnie was floored and a little speechless. She wondered how hard Damon hit his head on his way down to the bottom of the well because his apology was completely out of left field. And unused to people giving her heartfelt speeches and apologies she wasn't exactly sure how to respond. She was flattered and mildly self-conscious.

Her eyes became misty but the heat of her body burned any tears away. "I don't know what to say. Where is this coming from all of a sudden?"

It was coming from a place called epiphany. It was coming from a place called foreboding. They were entering the final act. Damon knew that. They had been here too many times that the signs were recognizable. Yet the one thing he never stopped to do was let Bonnie know he had unshakable faith in her as a person.

"It was long overdue wouldn't you say?" he kissed her forehead then sauntered to the bathroom. "Got any clothes I can borrow?"

"Ahh…I threw your clothes in the wash. They should be done. I'll go check," Bonnie made a beeline for the exit but stopped at the threshold. "Thank you. I needed…thank you."

Damon merely inclined his head.

She remained rooted to the spot even long after Damon turned on the shower and started whistling.

For the second time in her life Bonnie felt herself falling but this time, this time it felt more real, more visceral, more on purpose and not by circumstance. "I love you, Damon Salvatore," she whispered.

In the shower, being pummeled, Damon flashed a here and gone smile, "I love you, Bonnie Bennett."

She cried all night into her pillow. Scattered across her bed were mementos and keepsakes of their relationship she had packed away the day Rick erased her memories. Polaroids of their smiling faces mocked her. She couldn't connect to those moments, but the new ones they created when he came back from 1994 juxtaposed over those, rewriting the code. She had inhaled the scent of his shirt to the point she couldn't discern his scent just her perfume and tears.

Her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—was in love with a witch. And not just any witch but a Bennett witch, the last of her line, her best friend (ex-best friend now). What was she supposed to do?

Elena hiccupped and blew her nose. It was rare times like this she wished her mom was still alive or Jenna. Someone who could offer her adult advice as she toddled her way through life. Men did not leave her. She left when she got bored or fell out of love. Boys did not break her heart. She broke hearts and though she felt terrible about it, she figured she rather be fair than lead someone on.

Her phone ringed, the jarring noise of it made her headache that much worse. She scrambled for it, pushing aside items until she found it. She frowned at the unknown number. She hit the ignore button and tossed her phone. Cried some more. Cursed Bonnie and Damon's names. Stared at a framed photo of possibly the hottest guy she'll ever sleep with. The best fuck of her life. Wailed into her arm as she tucked her knees into her chest.

Her phone beeped letting her know she had a voicemail. Elena was prepared to disregard it, but figured hearing a stranger's voice would be better than letting Damon calling out Bonnie's name while she had been sucking him off replay over and over in her head.

Inputting her passcode, Elena played the message.

"Elena, this is Lily Salvatore." The doppelganger sat up straighter, dried her tears. "I know about your recent troubles with my son and well, you have my sympathies. Call me at this number if you wish to discuss how there may be a way for us to help one another get what we want. I look forward to hearing from you."

Elena played the message again, and again, and again. Was this a trap? She knew Lily hated her and could really care less about her getting back together with Damon. She knew what Lily's endgame was, but what if she really did have a way to help her knock the sense back into Damon's head? What would his mom want her to do? And, would she be willing to do it?

Only one way to find out.

She called Lily back.

A/N: So sorry for the long wait. I hit a massive brick wall with this one and other stories have been bothering me to write for them. But thank you for your patience and feedback. So how did we likey? Please let me know. Thanks again for reading!