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Chapter 12

cross my heart

What we do for ourselves dies with us.
What we do for others and the world
remains and is immortal.
—Albert Pine

Bonnie hit the ground hard, her body not ready for the restaurant's chair to suddenly disappear from beneath it. Groaning and squinting, she sat up. The sun was high in the sky. And that sky was big. Bonnie looked from side to side. There were mountains in the distance, and a few hills much closer, but they hardly encroached on the sky's wide expanse. It had never looked so huge to her, anywhere she'd been in her life. Bonnie suddenly felt very small.

She was alone, with no clue to where or when she was. A cloud of dust was dissipating to her far right, and she could make out a column of white smoke far over the hills to her left. Bonnie couldn't tell how far away the smoke was, let alone what was making it. She didn't know how long she would be here; she didn't even know how long she'd been in 1865. Had she slept a few minutes in the theatre box, or a few hours? But no matter how much time she had here, she didn't want to spend it alone and exposed to the sun. Bonnie brushed off her bedraggled skirts, she really needed a change of clothes, and started making her way towards that single sign of civilization.

Luckily, Bonnie hadn't been walking long when she heard the familiar sound of thundering hooves. She could see the rider, coming up fast behind her, obviously headed towards the same smoke as Bonnie was. The rider spotted her and pulled his horse up short when he drew near. He quickly dismounted, grabbing the saddle horn to keep his mount in place.

"Are you alright Miss?" He was a young black man, only a few years older than Bonnie, and he had a friendly smile. He was dressed in a blue uniform that Bonnie thought looked pretty similar to Damon's old grey one, if she disregarded the color.

"Umm yeah. I'm okay. Could you point me towards the nearest town?" Admitting to him that she was lost and alone was a risk, but Bonnie didn't think it was too big of one. While looks could be deceiving, he seemed friendly. Plus, she could hold her own in a fight against a vampire now, so she could definitely take on a human, even if he had some old-fashioned musket tied to his saddle.

"You must be heading to Deadwood. You can sit on Betsy here; I'm heading that way myself." He kept his voice soft as he studied her intently. Bonnie had a feeling he didn't believe her when she said she was okay. Not that she would either, if she'd stumbled upon a random woman wandering alone in a dirty dress.

"That'd be great. That's definitely where I'm heading…Deadwood." Just what she needed, an ominously named town in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm Private Benjamin Wilson, Miss. Of the 7th Cavalry." He interlocked his fingers and knelt down, giving her a leg up onto the horse. "May I ask your name?"

"Of course, I'm Bonnie Be—Bonnie McCullough." She stuttered once, before offering her fake name. No one ever died from being too cautious, did they?

"Pleasure to meet you Miss Bonnie. Is anyone expecting you in town? You have somewhere to go?"

Bonnie considered lying, fabricating a family or friend. But she didn't know where they were going, and it would quickly be revealed as a falsehood once there was no one in town waiting for her. She shrugged.

"No, I don't know." Benjamin looked concerned.

"Well, maybe they were expecting you a bit earlier, before you were—before you lost your coach that is?" Bonnie agreed with as few words as possible, and avoided looking down at the soldier's inquiring face. He seemed to have crafted half a backstory for her in his head already, and she didn't want to say anything that would throw his acceptable imaginings into doubt.

"Well I'll bring you to the Green Front. I'll be honest, it's not the most respectable place, but the only other spot for a room is Mann's and they don't let folks that look like me and you through the door. Besides, Madame Dora will get you sorted out, find your folks if they're here, and have you on your…feet in no time if they're not."

This all sounded fine to Bonnie. She might not know the exact details, but she had only stayed a few hours in Washington, and she thought the trend would continue here in Deadwood, wherever that was. If she was right it meant she just had to wait around for time to pull her forward, no action needed on her part. The worst that could happen was Madame Dora wouldn't be paid for a single night's stay.

"Thank you for all your help, Private. I'm not sure what I would have done without your assistance."

"No thanks necessary Miss; I'm sure you would have made it just the same. Though I'm glad I came upon you when I did and have lessened the hardships of your trip just a bit. Look, we're almost there now."

Small homes and semi-permanent tents had begun popping up around them once they'd crested the first hill, but now Bonnie could see the main drag. It looked hastily constructed, like it too rapidly for anyone to spend longer than absolutely necessary on their shop. Bonnie eyed the few multi-story buildings along the street. It was like something out of an old Western movie. Or at least, the few minutes of one she'd managed to watch before she'd fallen asleep in Tanner's class last May.

When were those movies supposed to take place? Bonnie hadn't even thought they were real. The Wild West sounded like something that was made up by Hollywood, for some male adventure fantasy, not a place that actually existed. Bonnie added a tally mark in her running count of 'Reasons I Should Have Paid More Attention in Tanner's Class.' So far, the only item with more tally marks was 'Reasons I Should Have Paid More Attention to Grams' Few Magic Lessons.'

Once they'd reached a tall, at least compared to its squat one-story neighbors, green building Benjamin helped Bonnie off of the horse.

"Here we are, let me just get you settled and then I'll be off. I'm supposed to be waiting for a telegram for the Major." He winked, letting Bonnie know it was nothing serious, before motioning her through the open doors.

"Madame Dora, I've got a girl here for you!"

A richly dressed woman perked up from where she had been leaning against the bar.

"Where'd you steal her from, are you poaching for me from Mollie's cat shipments?"

"No, ma'am. You know it ain't like that. But I would send more security when you plan another pickup, Miss Bonnie here was set upon by bandits east of town." Bonnie tried to look appropriately pathetic upon hearing this story, and not at all surprised. She didn't even wince when Benjamin continued in a far too loud undertone. "Not much of a talker, but she's nice. Said someone might be expecting her, but I don't think so. Saw her face though, and I knew I should bring her to you."

Bonnie studied the room, pretending not to be listening to the conversation happening very much in her hearing. It was full of tables, and people were drinking liberally despite the sun's high position in the sky. Several games of cards, and one of chess, were being played at separate tables, and an old woman stamped out notes on a piano against the far wall. Young women were talking and laughing loudly throughout the room, but it wasn't until Bonnie saw one lead a rather ragged looking man upstairs that she realized where she was.

Benjamin had brought her to a brothel. Lovely.

"Well I certainly could make a pretty penny off her, and I see you'd be first in line to hand over your coins. Don't think that you'll be getting any freebies because you brought her in. But you said someone might be waiting for her? I don't want any husband coming in guns blazing because his mail-order bride's seeing every Tom, Dick, and Harry in town." Raising her voice back to a normal level, the Madame finally addressed Bonnie.

"I'm glad Benjamin was able to see you safely into town, dear. There really are some dreadful types, ready to take advantage of people in the slightest bit of need. Now, let me get you a spot of supper," she snapped her fingers and a servant appeared with a bowl of stew, "and you can tell me all about yourself. Let's start with your name, Bonnie is it?"

"Yes, Bonnie McCullough." Bonnie still had a stomach full of pasta, so she wasn't distracted by the soup. She saw the minute widening of Madame Dora's eyes, the jerk of the head of the bartender, and heard the gasp of the working girl sitting next to her.

"Did you say your name is Bonnie McCullough?" This came from the woman beside her, not the Madame. Bonnie nodded, and the girl clapped and grinned.

"Wow, it's so good to meet you. Of course, we knew you must be gorgeous, but wow. Meg was sure he was lying, that his thing just didn't work despite that pretty face, but here you are, in the flesh even."

"Um, what?"

"Don't mind Meg, she just said that because everyone knew she wanted him so bad. She was half in love with him, and offered him rolls for free, not that she was the only one mind you, but she was after him like a tax collector when he was still living here. Oh, I shouldn't have said anything. Don't hold it against her; he never took her up on it!"

"I won't?" Bonnie said hesitantly, thoroughly confused.

"Sarah, send a runner for him. Then get back to work." Dora's words cut through the excitement on Sarah's face, and she quickly went to the door.

"Please, ignore the girls. I'm afraid Mr. Salvatore caused quite a stir when he was boarding in a room here. A face like that, and he wouldn't touch a single one of them. And he didn't even have religion as an excuse, just…" She paused, considering her audience. "just you. So, we've all heard a lot about you Bonnie McCullough."

Bonnie's head spun. Damon had lived in a brothel? Okay, not that surprising. But Damon hadn't slept with all of the prostitutes, and he'd told them about her? That was.

"Well, I guess my name precedes me. You said Damon isn't living here anymore? Where is he now?" As soon as the words left her mouth Bonnie realized that the woman hadn't actually specified that it was Damon Salvatore who had lived here. For a moment she internally cursed her carelessness, but the madame didn't blink, so Bonnie brushed her concern away. It had been a safe assumption to make, she couldn't imagine Stefan living in a house of ill repute, though that would have been fun to tell Elena, Caroline, and Katherine.

"You must not have received his last letters; he's moved over to Lead. They're convinced they've found the source of the gold, and your Salvatore's invested everything in their mine. I hope you weren't expecting a palace for your wedding night. I think he's sleeping in a tent right now."

Bonnie's eyebrows shot up. Her wedding night?

"Oh, don't look so surprised. They can't build fast enough to house all the dreamers who're out here panning for gold. But your man is more determined than most. I'm sure he'll get a roof over your head soon enough or die trying. And you're always welcome to rent a room from me in the meantime. I promise to plug all the peep holes, though I'm sure the girls would love to see him in action." The Madame winked and Bonnie gaped. What was going on?

"My God, you're easy to scandalize. He must be quite the different man around you, if that was enough to make you blush. He didn't tumble any of my girls but he's certainly not been a monk. Well, I doubt that blush will last long past the wedding, so no need to be demure now. You can have the reception here, it's the biggest room between both Lead and Deadwood."

"There's not going to be a wedding." Bonnie stated, wanting to clear that confusion up immediately. All of the conversations that Bonnie hadn't realized were just pretenses to listen in on her own now fell silent. The hush spread across the room.

"You came all this way just to leave me at the altar, Bonnie?" Bonnie spun around to face the newly arrived vampire. Damon looked good. The cowboy gentlemen guise worked for him, though she was glad to see he'd skipped the hat. Everything was so…fitted. She made a note to throw out that loose leather jacket he wore in the 21st century. She'd be performing a public service. Elena might not thank her, but Carol Lockwood might give her a medal.

"Damon! You're here!" The witch said. All eyes in the room bounced back and forth between her and Damon like they were watching a tennis match.

"Yes, Bonnie, I assume you'd known that since you traveled across the country to see me." He smirked at her, and Bonnie narrowed her eyes. He definitely knew she wasn't here just to see him, so what was his angle? Did he want her to reject him in front of everyone here? What? Did he want their sympathy?

"You just got here faster than I expected, that's all." Bonnie said primly. Damon's smirk widened. He knew he held all the cards, and she would have to follow his lead. Bonnie's mouth flattened with displeasure.

"Well, lucky for the messenger boy, he caught me just down the street. I'd come to town for coffee but I seem to be collecting my fiancé instead."

Even the slow notes from the piano had stopped. Bonnie guessed that this encounter would be spread through the entire town by nightfall. Small towns were all the same in that way, no matter the century.

Damon raised an eyebrow when she failed to respond and took one step farther into the parlor. Bonnie didn't know what game he was playing, or why he needed an absentee fiancé for it, but she hated being used and she hated being kept in the dark. Bonnie was going to make him regret using her unawares. Go big or go home.

She hopped up from the bar stool she had been perched on and rushed towards him. She saw him shift, bracing himself for a slap. She stood directly in front of him.

"Lucky for me as well. I didn't think I'd get to see you so soon." And with that, Bonnie threw her arms around his neck, tugged his face down, and pressed her lips against his.

It was more of an old-Hollywood style movie kiss than anything real. She'd shoved her face into his, lots of pressure, very little movement. But that soon changed. Damon wasn't going to take anything sitting down. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her waist against him and angled his face further downwards. He pulled away a millimeter for just a moment.

"Nice to see you too, little witch," he murmured, before his lips were on hers once more. And they weren't still this time. His lips coaxed hers open, as his hand bowed her backwards. Bonnie couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. This was not supposed to happen, and she was not supposed to like it.

She zapped him. Not hard, but he pulled back after feeling the sharp spark of electricity. He grinned down at her, like she had played completely into his hands.

"Now what was that you were saying about not marrying me?" This drew raucous laughter from their audience, and Bonnie became very aware of the spectacle she'd just participated in.

"Well, not anytime soon. This is just a stopover, I'm not staying."

"We'll just have to make the most of the time we have then." He leaned back in, and Bonnie expected another kiss, but he only grabbed her hands, unwinding them from around his neck. How had she not realized they were still there? Why was she letting one stupid kiss, that she started, mess with her mind like this?

"Thanks for looking out for my girl, Dora!" Damon said, and with an irreverent wave to the rest of the women and patrons, he pulled Bonnie from the building.

"You could have let me finish the soup," Bonnie grumbled.

"Don't be ridiculous, you just had the pasta from a decade ago. I could taste it." Bonnie winced. She was so looking forward to her mouthwash and electric toothbrush when she got home. And never kissing the vampire again, that too of course.

"Still, seems a bit rude to leave like that." She said. Did they have mouthwash now? Whenever now was? Damon hadn't tasted like pasta, or blood. She'd definitely tasted mint.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bonnie, I didn't realize you wanted to spend your time at the local brothel. Thinking of taking up the trade yourself? Or were you buying?"

Bonnie had half a mind to say she was, that she planned to hire the whole house of prostitutes, but she wanted answers more than she wanted to win a battle of traded barbs.

"No, but they were friendly at least, and they seemed to know me. You want to explain that?"

"Not really."

"Damon." She stopped. He'd kept hold of one of her hands when they left the Green Front, so she was forcing him to stop in the middle of the road. Of course, he could pull her along, or throw her over his shoulder, with force, but he didn't. He'd probably learned not to mess with witches. Bonnie was hardly the only one who could dole out aneurisms.

"Okay, okay, fine. Here's the deal. I needed a place to stay, Madame Dora had a room. But look at my face, no one could resist this." Bonnie looked up, beseeching some higher power to intervene at the arrogance, but didn't interrupt herself. "And here, I am, thinking I've gotten the best deal of my life. A place to live, and willing food to eat. But none of them taste right, they've all got something, and I can only cure so many people with my blood before I'm losing more than I'm drinking, especially when they work another night and just catch syphilis again!"

"Are you serious right now?" She asked, but she allowed him to lead her again.

"Yes! It's a problem Bonnie, a national health crisis, and a food crisis for me. Anyway, I've given up on them, and compelled them to forget any interactions we've had."

Bonnie shuddered, the power of compulsion spooked her more than any vampire strength or bloodlust.

"I still don't see where I come into this." He could have started a campaign for safe sex in Deadwood, it's not like anyone here would care if condoms were legal or not, but instead he'd told everyone that he was engaged. To Bonnie.

"Well I had to come up with a reason about why I wasn't partaking at Madame Dora's, or Mollie's, or the half dozen other establishments in Deadwood." Damon said, as if this were a perfectly satisfactory explanation.

"You couldn't just compel them not to be interested in you while you were erasing their memories?"

"Come on, Bonnie, look at me. I would've had to compel everyone in town to believe that big of a lie, and we've established my blood supply has been limited."

"So you made up a fiancé?"

"Bingo! It really worked better than I imagined it would. Everyone loves a good love story."

"I'd think Katherine would fit your story just as well then."

"Well Katherine won't be conveniently showing up to corroborate my story, now will she? Besides, talking about Katherine makes me sad," He gave her an overexaggerated pout. Bonnie punched his arm, and the muscle didn't give a millimeter. "Ah careful Bonnie, you've already committed to my story. Don't go giving away the lie by treating me so harshly. We're desperately in love, you know?" He batted his eyes at her.

"I think you'll be the one having trouble keeping up the lie. I'm pretty sure your act earlier wasn't lovestruck. And you'll have to explain my disappearance tomorrow."

"You're sure you'll be gone by tomorrow? Last time I saw you, you said you had no control over any of it."

"I honestly have no idea. I was supposed to go straight back home, but it seems like my magic isn't strong enough to make a single jump again." This was Bonnie's current theory. Emily was all about careful plotting and slow poured foundations. she'd slapped Bonnie on as a rider to the tomb spell after a few minutes of preparations and a whole lot of winging it. Bonnie should not be surprised it didn't go perfectly.

Emily had compared her first trip back as an explosion in a mountainside. Uncontrolled, and liable to cause an avalanche. Now, Bonnie was a stone skipping across time. Touching the surface for just a moment before being pulled away. The metaphor made her nervous; stones only skip so many times before they fall beneath the surface. How many arcs did she have left before that happened? When she sunk, would she be in her own time or somewhere else entirely?

"Home?" Bonnie thought about skirting the truth, or outright lying to him. He didn't know how magic worked, and he'd previously thought that her time travel was just an escape method. She resisted the strong desire she felt to pull out the bloodstone. Small, smooth, and flat. A perfect stone for skipping.

"I'm originally from the future. A spell…backfired on me and sent me to the past, to you. I'd just arrived when you found me in the woods that day, with Stefan and Katherine."

"You knew my name already! I thought Katherine had written you…but you must have already known us."

"Yeah, I did."

"All three of us. Which means I get the tomb open when the comet comes back around. But you're human. And young." He dropped her arm and took a step back from her. "Your grandparents haven't even been born yet. I'll be ancient, and you'll be just the same."

"You'll look the same in 2010, don't worry about it."

"I don't know Bonnie, it feels wrong now. Like I'm engaged to a baby."

"I'm seventeen, old man, not a baby."

"Oh my God, seventeen. You're the same age as my baby brother. This is the worst." Bonnie laughed at his dramatics. He came to a stop by the last horse on the post. He didn't bother giving her a leg up, he just lifted her by the waist and trusted her to swing her leg over at the right moment. Bonnie settled into the saddle, and Damon untied his horse and began to lead her down the main road out of town.

"I guess we'll just have to break it off then. Good thing you didn't buy me a ring. I'm sure if you shed a few tears, they'll give you free drinks for the rest of the day back at the hotel."

"Bonnie, I can't just let this go. They all think you're the reason I'm even out here in the first place. Our marriage would be illegal in Virginia, but here in the Dakota Territory I can make my fortune and make you my wife." Dakota Territory? This was the farthest Bonnie had ever been from Mystic Falls, but she refocused on his words. Damon was living outside of the U.S. and claiming it was because he wanted an interracial marriage.

"You're really committed to this, huh?" He nodded, almost earnestly. The lack of shame was astounding. Bonnie thought about Damon ingratiating himself into the town council in the future, and his odd friendship with Sheriff Forbes. He liked to be important, and he liked to be liked. But he also had fun pretending to be someone he was not; Bonnie could only assume that this was why he choose her for a backstory. Talking about Katherine would have been too real. There was no need to focus on his choice any further. It meant nothing.

"Whatever, you're the one worried about being a cradle robber. Why are you here anyway? Because I know it has nothing to do with marriage."

"I'm here for the gold Bonnie! There's tons of it, just beneath our feet, just waiting for me to get it." Bonnie didn't think Damon could be motivated by anything as boring as money. In 2010, he was either a hedonistic figure, or one motivated solely by a lost-love. In 1864, he was all passion; protection for Stefan, love for Katherine, hate for Giuseppe. To find out he was currently dedicating his life to gold was pretty disappointing.

"Gold, really? You can't just use compulsion to get whatever you want?"

"Tut, tut Bonnie, now you're encouraging my bad habits? How unlike you. Besides, I've got a lot of time on my hands, I need something to fill it."

"And mining was what you chose?"

"Me and Stefan used to talk about going West together, us and our mom on a wagon bound for glory," For a moment Damon looked wistful, "of course I am having a much better time than I would with my wet blanket of a brother hanging around."

"I'm sure."

"And it's always been a dream to sleep on an actual pile of gold. I could sneak into Fort Knox, and maybe I will, but it won't be the same."

"Are you a vampire or a dragon?"

Damon laughed. "Says the witch who I've never even seen do magic." Bonnie was not about to let a challenge go unmet. She leaned over him. Damon didn't drop his gaze, and Bonnie felt…powerful.

"You want to see magic?" Damon swallowed and nodded. Bonnie flicked her eyes away from his for a second. "Turn around." She ordered him.

They'd left the town behind, entering the empty foothills that Bonnie had arrived near. Damon turned, and saw the brush behind him was alight with fire.

He stared for a moment before speaking.

"A burning bush, Bonnie? How biblical." It was a bit more than a single burning bush, and there was nothing heavenly about it, but Damon was determined to be glib. Bonnie snapped her fingers, not necessary but still a nice touch, and the fire went out instantly. The brush smoked but didn't look too worse for wear.

"Believe me now?"

"I always believed you, I always knew…I just wanted to see it for myself." He stood at her side, his face level with her thigh, looking up at her. His pupils were blown, despite the sun, and his gaze heavy with wonder. It was heady, but Bonnie would rather have his friendship than his awe.

"Hoarding knowledge and gold? I notice you dodged my dragon question."

"Still a vampire, just a greedy one. Besides, I have to have something to buy the manor with."

"The manor? Like, your old house?"

"Yup. Can't use compulsion for this one, Alessandro and his family are all soaked to the gills with vervain, not grateful in the least."

"Why do you want to buy it?"

"Not to keep the grand old pile, if that's what you're thinking. No, I'm going to burn it down, with all of my father's prized possessions still inside it."

"Couldn't you just do that now? You don't exactly have to be invited in to throw a burning bottle through a window." Why did Bonnie ask things like that? It was practically encouraging him!

"I'm not going to kill off Alessandro, not when I went through so much effort to save his life," Her raised brow conveyed more impatience than curiosity, "okay, so giving him a little blood to cure his ailments wasn't exactly strenuous. But you should be impressed, I saved his life, Stefan had killed our father just a few hours before. Vampires: we contain multitudes."

"Good job, Damon, for not wanting to kill at least one of your brothers. Even if you plan to make him homeless."

"You just heard I'm planning on paying him for the house in gold, I'm sure he'll be able to find another place to carry on the Salvatore name and legacy."

Bonnie felt a bit bad for pestering him. She reminded herself that this Damon didn't carry the sins of his future self, and hadn't been an unfeeling vampire for more than a century. She could see the life in his eyes still, he hadn't flipped that switch.

"Alright, I'll support you and your gold dreams than, though I think I should get something in return, at least for backing up your ridiculous story."

"More ridiculous than vampires and witches? But sure, what do you want? You can't bind me as the eternal guardian of your line, I've already promised that one away to a different witch." Bonnie snorted.

"Well your first-born child is traditional, but obviously not available. And I should ask you for a ring, but I'd rather not carry this charade on beyond this town. So how about a necklace? You can sacrifice a few ounces of your hoard to make me a necklace, right?"

"Your wish is my command."

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Where are we going anyway?"

"Nowhere, we're here. You're going to stay by this nice little tree with my horse, while I go get my dinner."

"Why are we in the middle of nowhere then? Are you hunting buffalo?"

"Ha! I see you heard about Stefan's ridiculous diet. No, animals are only for when things are really desperate around here. Mostly I get by with clean clergymen and homesteaders. But the army has just rolled through, so there's a feast just across the bank of the river."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, the Lakota haven't been too pleased with the expansion of the town and there have been a few lost supply wagons, torched farms, a half dozen attacks on Americans moving out here. I keep tabs on the situation, so I know when Washington sends their boys out to deal with the problem." He breathed in deeply, and his eyes grew darker, and slightly hazier. Bloodlust. "Not that I would have needed it today. You can smell the blood for miles. I wouldn't be surprised if I have company."

"Company? Like, other vampires?"

"There's a few of us out here, and we're all trying to stay under the radar. People tend to go missing out here, but not that many, so we like to take advantage of the government sanctioned blood bathes." He had tied his horse to one of the low branches of the tree and run a soothing hand down its neck as Bonnie dismounted. He cocked his head, listening.

"I don't hear anyone else yet. So I guess you can take a look. Don't get too close, one twitch of a tomahawk and you'd lose your toes."

Bonnie followed him up the incline but stopped short when she reached the precipice of the hill. The small valley was filled with bodies. Even Bonnie could smell the blood now, and the gunpowder. Her body rejected the sight and she bent double, throwing up her pasta.

"Yeah, not very pretty. I better get to it; they won't keep long in this weather." He patted her once on the back, ending it with a stroke reminiscent of how he'd comforted the horse. Bonnie caught his arm before he could make his way into the valley.

"You can't drink from them! This is wrong, they should be buried."

"There's no one left to bury them. If I don't drink from them, their blood just goes to waste in the sun. It'll turn rancid soon, Bonnie. Would you rather I kill someone new so their blood is fresher?" Bonnie just managed to swallow her next gag and she let go of his wrist. For all the times she bemoaned the lack of refrigeration in 1864, she'd never given thought to this. No fridge, no blood bags.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Well I couldn't leave you in town, and then have to explain why you disappeared from a locked room without a trace. But go back to the horse Bonnie, I doubt you want to see me gorge myself."

Bonnie wanted to go back to the horse and the tree and forget this happened. She could see the dark blood Damon was struggling to suppress beneath his eyes. She could see the dozens of torn bodies, some of them those of children, below her. She could turn her back, and let Damon drink people who had already lost their lives. If she stopped him, he would kill someone else to eat. But if she walked away from this, and just forgot, what would that say about her?

"Fine. I won't stop you." Damon rolled his eyes, like it was never in question. "But we're not just leaving them like this. You can dig and drink at the same time." With that, Bonnie made her way down the hill, and began digging herself.

Bonnie would never be as talented as Emily when it came to earth and stone, but her ancestor had taught her a lot about how a witch interacts with each element. The graves she opened in the Earth were not the perfectly cornered rectangles that Emily could have undoubtably made, but they were deep and neat. She'd made a line of ten before she looked up and found Damon beside her. He held a shovel, which Bonnie had no idea how he'd gotten, and was rapidly digging a hole.

Bonnie didn't know the burial practices of the Lakota, and she wouldn't want to try and imitate it. So she murmured the cleansing spells she could and hoped that their spirits could find peace.

They continued like this for hours. Even with their supernaturally rapid digging, it was a large job. Every so often Bonnie saw Damon take a wrist to his mouth before he set the corpse in the grave. She refused to look away. She looked at their faces, trying to imagine them without the frozen fear and despair on their features. What had their lives been like?

Bonnie brushed a lock of hair out of her face, and felt her wet cheeks. How long had she been crying?

"I hope you know that I'm using almost as much energy as I'm gaining because of your morals Bonnie. They're horribly inconvenient."

Bonnie didn't immediately respond, searching her mind, trying to formulate how to tell Damon what she felt when she looked at humans that could have been anyone, could have been her. Caught in a war and crushed by an uncaring greater power. How should she tell him that at one point in her life, he would be that uncaring power. Bonnie's only advantage, her saving grace, was her magic. How had she ever thought she could give that up?

Her magic allowed their roles to be flipped. She'd held the power. She had weighed his life in her hands and found him wanting. It was only Elena's pleading that saved his life. Bonnie stood next to the line of graves she'd dug.

"Morality is inconvenient, but it's the only thing that makes us human."

Bonnie met Damon's eyes. She expected him to protest, to remind her that he was no longer human, but he didn't. His eyes looked haunted. They reminded Bonnie of the first real conversation they'd had in 1864, about the nature of war. How many graves had Damon dug in his human life? How many had he failed to dig as a vampire?

"Promise me you'll finish this, Damon. Forget the necklace. This is my price." He nodded, once sharply. And Bonnie opened another hole in the ground. She wanted to say something else, to explain her own struggle, or make clear why it was so important that people be allowed to retain some dignity after death.

But before she could try to articulate any of this to Damon, she felt the burn of the stone, the snap of a cord, and she was pulled through time again.