A/N: A one-shot inspired by the third season of the Vampire Diaries. I've been rewatching the series, for the umpteenth time actually, since I need to go over it once in a while. If I don't I forget important plot parts that still will happen even if I changed the lead in my story A mirror's Reflection, which I'll admit keeps me very busy. Also, anyone here who can explain to me the importance of an SAT? Where I come from, we don't have those, but am I right to assume that, when you score high, it is kind of okay to enter a college/university in America even if you didn't graduate from your High School?

Ahem, on with the story. Inspired by the third season of the Vampire Diaries and Bonnie-centric. She always seems to get the shitty short end of every stick and I wondered. What if Stefan had gone through on the plan to turn her? Because deciding who should be turned should naturally be done with the tossing of a coin (like what the Fuck)...

Ahem again, enjoy and let me know what you all think!

PS. this is a One-shot. I do like the premisses of this one, but to be honest, I'm not feeling it much right now. At this point it's only a plot-bunny and- well, Kol came along. Certainly didn't ask him to when I started on this.

Enjoy!

Bonnie-centric — Vampire diaries

Summary: What if Stefan turned Bonnie as he and Damon first intended?


o.O.o


About a Witch

Ivy and periwinkle covered the ground around and between the trees around the witches house. I glanced at my mother, at Abby. At her dark, curly hair flailing around her and her brown eyes lit. Her face looked strange in the shifting light of the large fires drawn around Esther's pentagon. Swallowing, I exhaled loudly and stared up at the moon, spreading a shimmering triangle outward from the march.

"The moon is almost in its waning point."

"And that it's?" I whispered, eyes flitting to Abby again. My mother shrugged helplessly.

I stared at Esther. A breeze had picked up and I could smell the rain in the air. I wished I had dressed into something warmer than jeans and a simple sweater. My coat and scarf did little to provide enough warmth and I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel, I'd never been drawn on before, but it wasn't painful or truly unpleasant as I'd expected. Perhaps the bulk of the magic came from the witch spirits?

"What will happen to you once your children are gone?" I asked.

"When I'm done, I have no reason to remain in this realm," Esther answered easily.

"So you'll be gone."

She smiled, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, "I'll know peace."

My frown felt taxing on my forehead. I didn't quite think it worked like that. Even if she would undo what she created, she'd still be responsible for the thousand years of horror her children had created. Wetting my lips I dared another glance at my mother, but her face was jaded. It was a look I recognized immediately. She didn't trust the woman and her ancient son any more than I did. It was an expression I'd perfected having to work with the likes of Damon Salvatore, and I rubbed my hands over my upper arms. I was still cold.

"Am I supposed to do something, when you draw upon us?" I tried, the silence bothering me.

"No, my dear, you won't have a thing to worry about."

"Right," I mumbled and shot Abby another look. There was something in her eyes.

Esther didn't look like she heard nor noticed my words, nor the doubt in my voice. She resumed her preparations, drawing a long stick through the earth. I watched as she created a witches mark, the pentagon she drew perfect. The lines all straight and equal.

In the distance, lightning flashed and the thunder crackled and I shivered. The brewing magic felt potent in the air and I wondered if it was so thick and heavy, if the rest of Mystic Falls would notice the magical storm brewing as well.

The moon was rising. It had just hauled itself above the tree line and even from where I stood, I heard the murmurs of my ancestors. Of all those witches who'd died in vain and so gruesome. They were waiting, gloating— they wanted blood. Perhaps they even wanted retribution. That wasn't uncommon, was it? When wronged people often wanted retribution, revenge. I understood that. I did, but somehow— the bloodthirst— the pure glee, it made a shiver run down my spine. I also felt weird. I knew Esther was channelling me, so of course, I would feel that, but it felt— weird. It wasn't like channelling Luka, or even like when his father bound my magic. It felt much worse. It felt as if someone had cut my hand and slowly the blood was seeping away. At first, you felt fine, but as the minutes ticked by, pure exhaustion and a lethargic feeling started to creep up on me.

"They're coming, mother" Finn, the eldest with the angular features and the always stony expression, piped up. His voice was soft, but the words drummed through me like a round-shot.

"No, it's too soon. The moon is not high enough." Esther replied, turning to us, her face stricken. It was the first time I saw a genuine emotion on it, and I realized, as I tripped backwards, that was why I felt so uncomfortable around her. She wasn't genuine. "Go quickly!"

But she was also right. "Come—" I mumbled, grabbing Abby's hand and yanking her towards the Witches' house. "We have to get out of here."

"Bonnie?"

"It's going to be okay," I said, but my words tasted empty and sand-paper-dry in my mouth.

"Should we leave them to their own devices?" Abby asked.

I wasn't sure what she worried more about. The sudden, but predictable arrival of The Originals, or the ancient witch who couldn't be trusted. From the magical circle, the fires roared and I watched the pale yellow light ripple on the undulating blackness. Esther was repelling her sons and we had to be quick. Even with all the bravado, I hid behind, I knew I couldn't take two— no, three of them all at once. Not even when I would summon everything I had and directing it at them, I didn't have the power to fight three of them.

Without the extra ammunition, I wondered if I could even take down one and a single thought crackled in my brain. I had to keep my mom safe. She might have been absent during most of my life, I didn't want to lose her now. I didn't want to lose her too.

I quickened my step, limbs shaking, fingers numb. Blood pounded in my ears. Abby's hand was warm in mine. Her fingers curled around mine reassuringly and I tried for a small smile as we stepped inside the witches' house. The floorboards creaked warily when we ventured across the threshold and the landing. There was little light inside, the candles lit on the wall fluttering and dying.

"This place has some serious vibe in it."

"The witch spirits will protect us from the Originals, but, we should get into the basement," I explained and beckoned my head for her to follow me. "This way!"

I'd been inside the Witches House so often, I knew the way by heart. Ducking out beneath a spider's web, we turned into another creaking landing and I turned for the basement. When I was halfway down rickety steps, I heard a new set of footsteps at the top of the basement stairs and hurried my step.

"Come on, we're almost there," I tried.

Only twenty metres or so and we would be at the heart of the house where Klaus' coffins had been. Abby remained silent and I turned my head to ask her if she was okay. However, she was gone.

"Abby?

The floorboards creaked and I whirled around, noticing the newest intruder with wide eyes. I stare at him. Something whispered in the back of my mind. "Stefan? What's going on?"

His features were frozen, his lips drawn in so tightly against his teeth the red of his lips was almost invisible. When he opened his mouth, his voice was icy. "They took Elena. They're going to kill her unless we stop Esther."

"What— I can't do anything about it, Stefan. Esther is channelling us."

"Bonnie, if you can't stop her—" He looked at me, unblinkingly. "—I have to find another way."

I wiped the perspiration from my face and shook my head. "Stefan no—" I took a deep breath and turned abruptly to the stairs, only to be intercepted by the youngest Salvatore brother.

"What are you going to do?" I gasped. "What are you going to do? Even if you kill us, Esther is channelling every witch of our ancestry, living and dead."

"Esther is drawing from the witches," he whispered and I frowned.

"Yes, I know—"

"—And the only way to cut her off is if one of you no longer is a witch." He continued.

My body was gripped by a chill that had taken over my core. I began to shake uncontrollably. "Stefan—"

"I'm so sorry, Bonnie."

"Wait—"

And then everything spun out of focus— the world spun, something iron and disgusting pulsated into my mouth and then— Everything went black—

Pain—

That was the first thing I felt when my waning conscious returned to me. Horrendous pain and when I moved, it got worse. White-hot stabs of pain shot up my neck and sliced through my brain and forced me to stop breathing. I wondered— would I throw up when I opened my eyes? My stomach recoiled. It also recoiled at the thought of moving and I inhaled deeply. I had to get up. I didn't remember why, I didn't remember much, but I knew, I had to get up.

Rolling over onto my side, swallowing the vomit that rose into my oesophagus, I lifted my arm, running an exploratory hand around me, reaching for the light switch on my nightstand. My hand stilled when the only things I encountered were twigs and leaves instead and that— that got my eyes to open.

I was in the woods. All around me trees rose high into the sky, when I stared above me, I saw the spidery branches intertwining against the black velvet sky. The ground around me was littered with leaves and small branches and my mind came up empty.

What had I been doing here? The last thing I remembered— I'd been in the witches' house. I'd been there with my mother. My eyebrows furrowed together. "Abby?"

The air was heavy with the smell of wet leaves and earth and I slowly scrambled up to my feet. "Anyone?"

No one answered and I scrambled to my feet, panic racing through my bloodstream. Night had taken full control, ushering in a zillion stars but no moon and my panic rose. Shouldn't it be a full moon? I called on my magic—

Nothing happened.

My pulse began to race again. My breath came even quicker. Because my magic wasn't answering. Why wasn't it answering? I attempted a simple fire spell, not an overly complicated piece of magic, but, again, nothing happened. Slowing my breathing, I dropped my arms and twirled around, taking in my surroundings.

Above me, I could see a latticework of branches, their dark, spidery fingers intertwining against a black velvet sky. The ground around me was littered with leaves and small branches, and the air was heavy with the smell of earth and things that would become earth.

I remembered Stefan, coming up to me. I remembered Esther sending us away to the Witches House. I remembered that my mother and I parked the car up a sandy lane and— I staggered.

"No!" I whispered.

I remembered Stefan's pained expression.

"NO!" I screamed. Birds nearby took flight at the sudden screech of sound.

My vision went dotted with black and I screamed again. In the distance, I heard voices, a television, a man arguing with a woman and even a distant siren. I shouldn't have been able to hear them so I knew. I KNEW without anyone having to explain it to me, what he'd done.

He'd turned me. Stefan— Stefan who I trusted and sometimes even liked, had used my trust in him to be on my side and turned me. And that hurt didn't it. If it had been Damon, somehow, I would have been able to get over it. After all, Damon Salvatore was almost cartoonishly cruel, it was something we were all well acquired with by now, but Stefan—

Stefan presented himself as the good guy. Stefan could be a monster, but, in the end, I'd expected him to do what was best for all of us. He'd been the one who'd come and found me. He'd been the one who'd enlisted my help. He'd been—

My shoulders shook, my breath stuttered and with no other release available I screamed again. The sound shrill and loud— oh so loud and finally, when my throat felt raw with pain or thirst— or both, I fell to my knees. And I cried.

I wasn't sure how long I wallowed— and wallowing I did, but when I finally calmed down enough to make the trek through the forest, it was still dark. Now and then I heard voices, a radio, distant honking and with no clear idea of where I was, I followed them. I felt twigs snap beneath my feet and the trees bristled and whistled in the breeze. I thought absentmindedly that I should feel cold. After all, I had been cold, but the chill in the air didn't bother me anymore. The slight drizzle that had started, dampening my hair and sticking it to my face, nothing more but a minor inconvenience and— a larger twig snapped and I growled.

I should be cold. I should be inconvenienced by all of this and I turned to a tree, kicking it hard enough to wake a flock of horrified birds, protesting with a chorus of loud squawking, that echoed throughout the vast trees. I levelled them with a glare.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Of course, that didn't help, and instead of the silence I craved, they took to flight, screeching and— snapping and I pushed my hands over my ears. The ground beneath my feet started to sodden, the rain pooling fast and I dug my nails into the back of my neck.

"Get a grip, Bonnie!" I whispered. "Get a fucking grip!"

My emotions were all over the place, like broken radio receiving several radio stations and tried broadcasting them all at once. I hunched forward, squeezing my eyes shut and I bit my lips. A car whooshed by in the distant and—

"Come on, you only have to find your way back to civilisation. You can go home— You can—"

What could I do? Find a human and feed? Complete the transition and wallow in the dark as the sun levelled its yellow glare over the town and be like all that went boo in the night and hunt when darkness set in?

I couldn't do that. But I could go home. I could go home and at least say goodbye to my mum. To my dad. To Caroline— although I should probably do that over the phone. If my face could flush with embarrassment, it probably would, but Caroline. Caroline would try and convince me to turn. She would succeed and I would come to resent her. I would learn to blame her. Just as I'd blamed Stefan and Damon for my Grann's death. I couldn't do that to her, anymore, then I could do that to myself.

The trees thinned and mud and yellowed grass made way for asphalt and concrete.

Dawn began to leech the dark from the edges of the sky and I started to move toward the road where several cars were parked. I heard someone— human, friendly and helpful, and I just needed to call someone when the oncoming headlights of a car caught my attention. The light moved across me, like a beam of a flashlight and I blinked owlishly when the car drew to a stop beside me. It was sleek and expensive and I had never seen it before.

A man unfolded from the car. His jaw cut at perfect angles, and cheekbones like blades. He looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't think. My head was killing me.

"Lost, Sweetheart?"

My thoughts finally caught up to me as I realized who was standing in front of me. The youngest Mikealson male had cut his hair, which only better served to highlight how devastatingly handsome he was. For a second I tried my magic again, belatedly realising I was absolutely no match for him anymore and felt my borrowed blood sap from my face. I fought for my breath, fought against the static growing in my ears and finally took one step back.

"Kol—" my voice faltered, my magic failed me and I had the absurd notion to burst into tears.

Perhaps my expression must have filled him in on that and his head cocked to the side, his eyebrows furrowed. For a moment he looked at me as if I was an incredibly difficult jigsaw for him to solved and then— something clicked. He hadn't known and somehow, him not having realized what had become of me, made my eyes burn and a cry built in my throat.

"You're in transition."

"Are you going to kill me now?"

I was unsure what I wanted more. To go home fall asleep and never wake up again, to face the betrayal— the hurt, or for this man to rip apart my body and perhaps hand-deliver it to the Salvatores. Despair made way for anger and it roared through me until I was left trembling. Perhaps he could deliver my head to Elena. After it was my neck— again. I was expendable compared to her and while somewhere in the back of my head, I loved her, and if given the choice, I'd gladly lay down my life for her, I couldn't— I FUCKING couldn't get over the fact that once again, I paid the price. She didn't overthink her decisions and like a toddler who needed guidance and protection, she only received a chaste slap on the fingers.

"Sweetheart, why ever would I do that?" Kol asked. I had forgotten what I'd said to him and turned my glare on him.

"What do you want from me?"

"What kind of gentleman would I be, if were not to offer my help to a damsel in distress."

"Gentleman? My ass!"

He showed his canines when he smiled and leant forward. "Perhaps you're right, but why, Lovely Eyes, don't you hop in? Who knows, we can find even ground to help each other."

"And why would I want to help you?"

"You'd think you would want revenge on your little friends. I know I would want to."

It struck a nerve. It seized my cheeks and I didn't know what possessed me when I answered his smile with a crooked one of my own. "Right— yeah, I do want Damon and Stefan to pay."

And I did. They brought me nothing short of misery.

It was time to return the favour.

~ Fin ~

(Perhaps to be continued…)


A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the story and if someone likes to explain the SATs to me, please do!

Let me know what you think either way