"Well, that was fun." Bonnie sighed, throwing herself into the old armchair her parents had given her when she had moved out. Burrowing deep into the soft tweed-like fabric, she tugged a soft cotton blanket off the back of the chair, and snuggled into it. "Can we not do that again?"
Tossing a roll of tape onto two unpacked boxes, Damon grunted in agreement, since his mouth was busy securing one corner of tape. Stretching the plastic tarp that was the make-shift window covering, he held it taut with one hand and taped it with the other. "I would still like to know how you made them leave." He muttered, stepping back to eye his handiwork. It wasn't perfect, but at least the shattered glass was swept up and the window was secured for the night.
"IthreatenedtostakeStefan." Bonnie quietly mumbled into his abstraction, her fingers pulling at the tassels that formed the blanket fringe. It hadn't been a restful evening, to say the least. She was overtired to start with, her sleep last night disturb by horrible dreams, some of which she had a dreadful fear were less than dreams and more like prescient glimpses into her future. Adding into that the murder scene she and Damon had discovered, plus Stefan and Elena's return, and it just made Bonnie physically and spiritually exhausted.
Dark eyes nearly closed, she studied the soft cotton strands of the tassels, her index finger poking at it relentlessly. The warmth and security of her apartment was violated. Always before, death had remained on the outside, whereas now it felt as if it was in her own home.
"Are you alright, little one?" Damon's touch was oddly gentle. His coldness from earlier tonight gone. Gently, he pushed back strands of hair, tucking it behind her ear. "I know that seeing my brother and Elena was not---"
Bonnie shook her head, dropping the edge of the blanket to reach up and snag his fingers. "It isn't Stefan or Elena. Not really. I'm just tired. So very tired." She sighed. His fingers were cool to the touch, rather as if he'd spent time out in the cold air of a spring morning.
Damon tightened his fingers around hers, deftly pulling her up before scooping her into his arms like a small infant. "Come, I think you are indeed tired." He commented, easily carrying her down the softly lit hallway to her bedroom. "And if you seriously expect to successfully stake my little brother, you will need to actually sleep through the entire night."
"Day." Bonnie corrected mechanically, indulgently letting her head rest on his shoulder. It was a familiarity in touch that neither had encouraged before, but the stress of the night was such that she suspected they both needed one solid ally in each other's corner. Having Stefan call him the bad-guy, as used to it as Damon was, could not have been easy.
"Day." Damon agreed, pushing the heavy wooden door open with his foot. The warmth of her body against him was reassuring. It represented another day they had both survived intact, despite the ups and downs of it. Carefully setting her down onto the bed, her tugged down the topmost cover, before reaching to pull off Bonnie's shoes. She just lay back listlessly, the dark shadows under her eyes a reminder of how poorly she'd slept yesterday. "And, as an early birthday gift-" he said mockingly, tapping her nose with one finger. "I will graciously allow you to have the bed."
"So gracious." Bonnie yawned. "Since it's my bed."
Damon smiled, that little quirk of the lips that he reserved for his genuine amusement. "Is it really?" He queried with just a touch of amazement. "I had no idea!"
"Smart aleck." Bonnie mumbled, scrambling under the covers fully clothed and indifferent for the possible discomfort. "I'm amazed you've survived this long. Surely someone's wanted to stake you for that clever mouth you have."
"Many have tried, all have failed." Damon quipped. Gently pulling the covers over her, he stroked her soft red hair once, pleased as the eyes drifted closed. "Rest, Cara."
Her breathing was even, but not quite that of sleep. And while he could hear her heartbeat begin to slow to that torpid pace of a sleeper, he had to wonder if it would stay so calm. It seemed to him that last night had been the worst she'd had. Even a room away, he'd heard the restlessness of her sleep, the rabid staccato of her heartbeat, and the soul-tearing whimpers from the dreams that plagued her.
The sad thing was, though, that it hadn't been the first night he'd heard such noise. However, it had been the first time she'd awakened with a scream on her mouth from a solid sleep. 'Yet, she says nothing of her dreams.'
Switching off the lights, he left the door cracked at the hallway lit, in case she again awoke in a similar state. It bothered him, more than he liked, that she was having nightmares. Not for the fact she was in mental turmoil and sleeping poorly, but for that the prolonged blood-bond between them leaked nothing of the subject for her dreams to him.
'It's her own abilities generating them.' Damon mused, entering the kitchen with only his thoughts for company. 'Foresight? Perhaps.' Cold blood was repulsive, but for the sake of his housemates sensibilities, Damon never poured it into a mug and microwaved it unless the house was either empty or completely still.
He set the microwave for ten seconds longer, ending the cycle prematurely to prevent the buzzing for fear it would disturb the redhead down the hall. 'Although, she fell asleep fast. I doubt the Hunter could rouse her if he was in her room.'
A yawn tore through him, to his bemused surprise, as he wandered back to the rather bedraggled living room. A quick look around assured him that all was as he and Bonnie had left it, though his imagination easily put Stefan back where he'd last seen his brother, the stunned and idiotic look on his face immortalized in Damon's brain. "Idiot." Damon growled, his frustration rising again. If only they hadn't come back so soon.
Easing down into the chair recently vacated by Bonnie, Damon propped his feet on the coffee table and studied the world through the crinkled plastic over the window. Time was not on their side. The Hunter had upped the ante tonight by tossing the body into the apartment. Identifying the factor that had caused the change was not easy. So many new elements had entered the mix in the past few hours, too many to narrow one definitive factor.
It would have been easy to blame Stefan, but in his gut, Damon knew that to be wrong. "So, what of this Kiera person." He mused. For all that he had brushed aside Bonnie's speculations, it wasn't for the reasons she thought.
Yes, he suspected she was somewhat jealous of the girl for laying claim to Matt, but Bonnie was not one to nurture jealousy to this point. There was obviously something more to Bonnie's claims against Kiera, but nothing that Damon could substantiate until he saw Matt's girlfriend himself.
"But, the sorcery is new." He muttered, his thoughts jumbling fast and furious. "Never before, until they returned, have we experienced this. Interesting." Nothing in Honoria's records suggested the Hunter was capable of magic, and the creature had not demonstrated such talents earlier. 'Would it not have used sorcery to capture Bonnie when it had the chance earlier? If it was capable, why did it not?'
It suggested the creature was not working alone. 'Or, is being coerced by a sorcerer.' Damon sipped his beverage slowly, wrapping his mind around new ideas. "Could be." He mumbled aloud to the still air about him. "I wonder if---"
Bonnie's scream preceded his mug shattering on the floor. Vampiric speed made him a blur as he raced through the small apartment and burst into her room. A quick glance around made Damon back down from fighting stance, but not for long.
Bonnie was rigid, her eyes wide and unseeing and her face bloodless. Sitting ramrod straight in the bed, fingernails digging into the arms she clutched, she saw nothing and was aware of no one. 'She dreams?' He wondered, keeping as still and silent as possible.
Nothing around the girl moved, even the rise and fall of her chest seemed to be stilled, although he could hear the rhythm of her lungs and the beat of her heart. "Bonnie?" Damon called softly, mindful of the dangers in awakening someone who sleepwalked. As she presently was, it was hard to discern if she was a sleepwalker, or trapped into the subconscious reality.
A hesitant step towards her became a lunge as a thin scratch weeping blood formed across her neck. Eyes shooting wide with alarm, Damon grabbed Bonnie's upper arms and shook her. "BONNIE!" He roared, feeding her a jolt of power.
Brown eyes lit like gold, as it had in the catacombs before. It was the vampire presence of his blood, and for once, Damon rejoiced in seeing it. Diving deep into her mind with his own powers, he struggled to find a reality he could grasp. The mind and the subconscious were not aspects of powers vampires used. This was the realm of the witches and psychics.
However, the bond between Bonnie and himself lent a little control to him, and he used it to find the shining beacon of Bonnie's soul. Dark reds and blacks mired thickly in her mind, glowing with a malefic power born of pain and cruelty. This was the substance of her dreams, the promises of death and horror that disrupted her sleep.
Inured to such nightmares in that he had already experienced death's touch, Damon brushed through it without care until he found a tiny pocket of energy resisting the darkness around it. 'Bonnie' He realized. It took strength of will to touch that energy, to merge with it and feed it his own strength.
It took far less strength, though, when merged, to guide her into driving the darkness away and purging her mind.
And it took no strength to fling his awareness back into his body, just in time to see consciousness return to Bonnie's eyes. Her heartbeat was again racing, a furious pump that represented fear and adrenaline in the blood supply. Gathering her close, he tucked her head beneath his chin and fed his power into her trembling little body, sharing his strength until she could build her own reserves.
"I can't do this anymore." She moaned, her face burrowing into his shirt. "I can't. I just can't."
Wordlessly, Damon rubbed at her back, offering her the comfort she needed but no guarantees. "It will be over soon, Querida." He finally pledged, certain of that one fact, as the soft sobs shaking her shoulders ended. "But, you must be strong."
Bonnie shook her head, the weariness that dragged her down finally breaking her willpower. "I can't."
"You can." Damon promised, thinking of the young woman who'd so casually picked up a dismembered arm, and the fiery little witch who'd stared Klaus down. "And you will."
Bonnie sucked back a sob, digging deep to find an ounce of strength. "I'm going to die, Damon." She said in a whisper. "I know it. It's in my dreams, and it's been with me for weeks. I'm going to die, and I don't think I care anymore."
Damon's arms reflexively tightened. "It is nothing but a dream. A possibility without foundation."
Bonnie chuckled. "But, a possibility that grows. How can we beat it? It's stronger now, it wants me, and now we have to run around with Stefan on our tails? We're so screwed."
Damon's hand slowed, stilling on her back for a moment. "Stefan, we can stake." He commented lightly. "And when we find the sorcerer who has changed the rules, then we will find a way to beat the Hunter. I know this."
It seemed to take forever, but the tension in Bonnie began to fade. Softly rubbing her back, cradling her as if a small child, Damon listened as she purged the horrors of her dreams, of her visions of her own death. The consistency in the dreams, the escalation in the details was alarming. Even more so was the content. Bonnie had never read Honoria's description for the way a Hunter slew an Old One, but she was describing it perfectly.
Perhaps he was wrong about her. Perhaps Shiri was indeed reborn, this time as a mortal.
'Then why the gifts? The need to claim and possess?' Damon's logical side argued. 'Why the slaughter?'
He had no answers, only volumes of questions he dared not share with the girl he cradled. "You need sleep." He finally told her as she fell silent. "Stefan will be back early, we both know this, and you will never stake him if you cannot stand upright." He chided gently.
Carefully, he released her, tucking her back into the bed. Reaching once more for the covers, his mind reeling with so many possibilities, he froze when Bonnie's hand touched his wrist. "Bonnie?"
She licked her lips nervously, her eyes so weary and pleading that he felt his undead heart ache for her. "Stay?" A girl he'd never thought to see beg put her entire soul into one word. "Please?"
"Stefan will return in mere hours." He reminded her, his body frozen to the spot.
Beneath the covers, Bonnie shrugged. "That's his problem." She sighed. "I just don't want to be alone. Not anymore. I can't do it alone."
It should have been an easy decision, Damon marveled, gazing down at her. Was it only a few months ago that he'd have just said sure and jumped into the bed for a quick tumble and a hot meal?
But, Bonnie wasn't asking for sex or intimacy, just company. The problem was, he was just now realizing that he was already too attached to her. The world in which he had once walked alone was gone, he'd let a mere mortal in and called her friend. And her inherent death would make his soul bleed.
"Please, Damon? Just for tonight." The soul shining in her eyes tugged at him, and as he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt, he realized he was already bleeding on the inside.