A/N: This wasn't the chapter I intended to upload next BUT this little idea came to me last night and would not leave my head until I'd typed out all the dialogue on my phone's notes page (there's a lot of random Bamon interactions in my phone, under shopping lists etc lol).

This is my first time writing NoHumanity!Damon eek - he kinda broke my heart.

iii. Kryptonite

The warehouse doors are flung open with a curl of her wrist. Assaulting her senses, the stench of blood lurches against her throat, making her want to gag. She doesn't – Bonnie knows that flinching in the cold stare that observes her is what he wants.

"Can I help you?" In his hands hangs a body – almost, the shuddery breath and Damon's glistening crimson mouth send an involuntary shiver. The vampire's hands twitch and the girl drops to the ground with an echoing crack. "Oops."

Bonnie summons magic from her core, tensing with the simmering authority beneath her skin. Damon just swirls his tongue around each digit, watching her, waiting, as he cleans life off his bloodied hand.

"So," he sighs, "What's the plan? Tie me up, vervain me, pop a blood vessel, burn the thing humanity-me loves most in the world?"

Her voice is low, "Actually, I'm just going to ask you."

"Ask me?" His eyebrow curves disbelievingly.

"Yes. Will you come back to Mystic Falls?"

And there's nothing more than iced, dead, indifference as he says, "No."

But for Bonnie, there's a delicate power. "Okay," she says simply and turns on her heel.

"That's it? You're giving up easily."

She teeters on the ball of her foot, torn between indulging him or leaving with the thrill of, for once in her life, not being the saviour. "I came because Stefan asked me to."

Damon drags his gaze across the room, his iris' blackening at the mirrored blood-stains. "Well that's predictable. I would ask how my little brother is but honestly, I don't give a fuck."

And Bonnie almost smiles, "Which is exactly why I'm going to walk away and leave you to your destruction because honestly, I don't give a fuck either."

Something scrapes against his mind as he hears her drive away. Maybe hurt? Betrayal? Damon smacks his lips together and admires the still oozing neck of the attractive blonde by his feet. Nope, just hunger.

Her hands tremble around the steering wheel: the leaping drum of adrenalin and fear. She doesn't care, not anymore. She's not indebted to him – she's not his Elena. She shouldn't have to pick up the scraps of Damon Salvatore when he doesn't care enough to stick around. He made that choice when he decided to desiccate, choosing a shrivelled shell of a human over being her best friend.

"Fuck you," she says out loud. It feels good, so she says it again, shouts it. But Bonnie wants more - her rage pulses - she needs more than saying it to herself.

The warehouse doors are still open, gaping like a wound and, Damon, in the centre, unfeeling, unloving, the coward-

"Fuck you."

Surprise flickers before his switch re-asserts, smoothing his features into blankness. "I'm down."

"Fuck you," Bonnie says again, louder, "And your cop outs. The rest of the world has to deal with shit – shit that you made. We don't get do-overs, or pauses, or switches." She wants to scream it; the experience perversely liberating. "Yes, your girlfriend is in a coma and that sucks, but she's not your whole damn world, Damon!"

Her raging pulse is both irritating and arousing. "Bonnie darling, don't make me kill you to just to shut you up."

She steps further into the room, heeled boots attacking the matt floor. "What about Stefan? Rick? Caroline?" Bonnie inhales, "What about me? You chose me. You saved my life even when it meant losing Elena?"

"Bonnie," he drawls, "My heart bleeds for you, really. You seemed to have forgotten that flipping my switch means that all the shit you're saying right now," he gestures around his mouth, "is nothing more than just watching your lips flap up and down."

The moisture in her eyes build. If you start crying bitch, I will have to suck that magic blood dry. His mouth kicks up at the idea.

"You're a coward, Damon Salvatore," she continues, "And I'm an idiot to have ever felt something for you."

All these women… so angsty about him. He lifts a foot to hop over the blonde meal and swaggers over to the tiny witch, bored of listening to her tell him what a dick he is. "Aw are you crying because you like me? Has someone got a big girl crush on the big bad vampire?" His eyes flare. "Do I turn you on?" And her shiver is delicious; his laugh cuts the air. "Are you… oh, that's tragic… are you in-love with me?"

"Shut up."

"I mean, you're pretty and all, but-"

The intensity of the pain buckles his legs. Bonnie keeps her eyes trained on the vampire as he sprawls on the ground, pulling at his head in agony.

"You bitch!" He screams, the sound ricocheting off every wall and into her fury. She stalks towards him, bending over the writhing thing with incensed power.

Only when she's a breath away from his ear does the pain cease, allowing her to whisper, "Anything I felt for you died when you got in that coffin."

Damon's chest heaves with the effort of recovery. "You don't mean that," he spits out, eyes still scrunched shut.

Bonnie stretches. "Oh, I do. You're nothing to me, Damon."

"Was that them?" He croaks to her retreating back, "Your last words?"

She tilts her chin in the yawning doorway. "Actually, I wanted to thank you." Even through his blurred vision, he's sure she smiles, "For showing me that I deserve more."

Wait. Damon's muscles twinge with the effort of lifting his head. Wait! Something scratches at his mind again, expect this time, it falls to his chest, taps at the place where his heart used to drum. She yanks open the car door without a backward glance and, as she drives away for a second time, he realises he's fighting the urge to yell her name. Make her stay. Damon throws his head back on the concrete.

Well, shit. Bonnie Bennett, my kryptonite.

He winces at the murder scene; the blonde's eyelids now marbled. Another corpse to his already mounted conscience. Damon sighs, brushes the lint off his pants, salutes the bodies he's going to have to atone for in whatever hell awaits him, and staggers out of the warehouse.

A/N: Please do take the time to leave a review - I read every single one and do a little happy dance at the notification. Also, if you'd like to, you can buy me a coffee over at ko-fi. My username is just Wavesketcher. Any support is much appreciated.

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