A/N: hello again! Just a brief authors note for anyone who still loves this story and read the last update with the Bonnie POV! I looked it up (since it's been several years) and it looks like Bamon were stuck in the prison world for 4 months total. This story is my take on Bamon in their halfway point. In the last update, you briefly saw how Bonnie is working through her feelings for Damon, and this story update at day 60 is kind of the culmination of both of them realizing they have an unspoken thing (excuse my guardians of the galaxy reference, but its true) and what to do about it. Pretty much just domestic, married banter. I always wondered why in the TV show they looked so oddly close when they reunited in the scene where Bonnie runs and jumps into Damon's arms when the reunite. Something HAD to have happened in the privacy of the "Other Side" to lead to that besides just pancakes and games and etc. (Maybe they even hooked up? Idk a girl can dream!) anyways, please leave a review if you'd like or leave me suggestions for future stories. Thanks so much. x

BONUS STORY

Day Sixty: Damon POV

You are drifting, fading in and out of awareness, dark raven locks of hair blurring your vision as you rub soothing circles over your eyelids. The smell of dark, slow roasted coffee eventually begins to burn your senses as if to catch your attention. Then a touch. A familiar, warm, welcoming touch wraps itself around your forearm, pulling you in another direction. You don't fight it. In fact, a smile tugs at your lips.

"Damon, stop messing around. We're going to miss it!" a voice hisses at you, though no venom laced with it.

"Bonnie, you do realize this place works like clockwork, right? And this just so happens to appear at the same time, of every single morning since we've been locked up here?"

"Yes, and I don't plan on missing it now."

The little witch flung you out the front door before you could protest, nearly spilling the mug of coffee in your free hand. Without another word between you, you sit in your respective positions on the landing in front of the front door to the boarding house. Bonnie to your right, you on the left.

With mere seconds to spare, you barely lift the mug to your lips as an explosion of light begins to ascend from behind the treetops and hills, blanketing the landscape in a reddish orange glow. You stop your ministrations to appreciate the sight, drinking in the colors and shapes the sunrise provides. Vaguely, beside you, a low sigh escapes from Bonnie's parted mouth. Lowering your mug, you glance her direction just as she pulls her legs to her chest and uses her knees to prop up her chin.

"Can you believe this is our sixtieth sunrise together?" she muses aloud, her chocolate eyes going glossy with delight. "I'm glad to see you actually appreciate it now. Took you a second, didn't it?"

"Technically, it's our thirtieth," you huff, correcting her. "We didn't decide to make a ritual of it until much later."

"Mm, Damon Salvatore, always about the technicalities," she mumbles, her brows becoming slightly furrowed.

"Hey, don't insult me Bon. You have to admit I've gotten better at this domestic thing we have," you are quick to reply, gesturing between the two of you with your coffee mug.

She doesn't respond immediately and you feel your chest tense, unexpectedly, and clear your throat in hopes of dismissing the odd sensation.

Then, you feel her hair ruffle your cheek as she lays her head on your shoulder, absentmindedly clutching your bicep with her opposite hand.

"I know," she says, barely above a whisper.

In the beginning, physical affection was not an action between either of you, not even a coherent thought. As time went on and many days passed, as well as many fights and good times, you remembered not flinching as much when she would take your hand. Or brush stray hair from your eyes, or ask you to dance with the goofiest smile on her face. The feel of impending dread began to lessen. And now, here you are, not pulling away when she wants to lay her head on you. Maybe you're becoming, soft, Salvatore, your internal monologue bites back at your revelry. Your lips press into a thin line, a shiver racing down your spinal cord.

"What's so special about a sunrise, anyway?" you mumble, a hand finding its way into your thick hair as if to shake away some sort of awkwardness. When the hell did I become awkward?

"It's more symbolic than special," she smiles, not missing a beat. "It gives me hope for a new beginning. A fresh start. One where we get out of here."

"In that case, I support it," you nod. "At this point, I think we need all the luck we can get."

"Me too," she agrees, nestling into your side a little tighter than before. "I have a good feeling about this, Damon. I know we're going to go home."

After a few minutes of silence pass, you stand, breaking the connection between you as if severing a thread. Sometimes you were unsure of why you were quick to put some space between you and the witch, but something inside you knew it was for selfish reasons. That, and your throat closing in on you.

With long strides, you abandon the coffee mug and place your hands in your jean pockets and stroll onto the front lawn. Daybreak was officially upon you as you maneuver your way around an oak tree to let the warm sunshine wash over your face. You stop in your tracks, eyes closed, and take in a deep breath. Since when do I take strolls on the front lawn? Are you serious?

Your thoughts are swiftly interrupted as you feel Bonnie standing behind you, her heartbeat thudding in your ears steady and slow. You flick your eyes open and tilt your head to the side to glance at her. She has a peaceful expression on her face. The one you commonly see when she conquers a piece of magic or watches the end of her favorite movie. Before you can avert your gaze, her eyes meet yours, and a smile grows on her lips.

"What?" you grumble, not pleased with all the focus being on you.

"I don't know," she shrugs, wrapping her arms around her own body. "I feel like I've known you my whole life but now you're just- different. Not completely, you're still a homicidal maniac," she stops to grin wider, "yet so different."

"You're just a little light-headed from the sleep deprivation, Bon," you casually retort, turning away from her stare. "Next time get a full eight hours, huh?"

"Sure, king of denial," she sighs. You can only imagine how far her eyes are rolling back in her head.

You both stand in amicable silence, seemingly for the tenth time that morning, for such a long moment you're sure Bonnie has either fallen asleep while upright, or was so quiet you didn't catch her departure even with your vampiric senses. Then, you hear her speak, and your undead heart leaps. She's somehow managed to come closer to you now, though you were unaware of the proximity until her voice fills the air.

"What if I were the only girl in the entire world?" she says, almost more to herself than anyone else. Her voice had gone eerily soft, and you tried not to openly shudder.

"Huh?" you croak.

Then her eyes find you again. And Goddamn it she has you trapped.

"What if I were the only girl left in this entire world?" she repeats, a bubbly laugh filling her throat.

"Is this a rhetorical question?"

"No," she shakes her head sincerely. "It was a just a thought that came to me, I don't know why. Probably inspired by our current situation. That would be weird, though. Wouldn't it?"

You can feel a vein pulsing furiously in your neck as you gather a response as if grasping at straws. You bite your lip, unable to decide the right words to say. Just say it's weird and move on, you idiot.

"Well, you actually are the only girl in my world."

The second the words leave your mouth, your stomach drops. Bonnie raises an inquisitive brow.

"Hold on, I mean like logistically speaking, of course- '' you stammer, body now fully turned to face her as if you're prepared to give a speech. "In this realm…"

Bonnie waves her hand in dismissive motion and you stop, frozen, as if she's turned you to stone.

"Damon, please. I know what you meant. There's no need to explain."

And in an instant she brushes passed you, leaving a chill in her wake. You stand there, mouth hanging open, until she shuts the front door behind herself. As if a spell were broken, you can move. The next thing you do is scratch your head. Yep, you're an idiot. Perfect.

It takes you several tries to get your legs to move you towards the house, which feel like they're currently full of lead, before you approach the door with caution. You don't hear cabinets being slammed or loud cursing so against your better judgment, you enter.

"Uh- Bonnie?" you call. "Are you in the kitchen?"

"Mhm." You hear her reply under her breath, fully aware your super senses can hear her perfectly at extremely low volumes.

You turn the corner and find her wordlessly retrieving food items from the fridge and sitting them out on the counter.

"What do you want for breakfast?" she asks, nonchalantly beginning to peel an orange.

You can't help but let out a low groan. You take a moment to twist your neck side to side and let it crack.

"Okay, so we're not going to talk about what happened? We're just going to skip ahead to breakfast?"

"What do you mean, Damon? Nothing happened. We watched the sunrise and now we're going to have breakfast. What's new?"

You resist the urge to curl your hand into a fist, your brows tightly knitting together.

"Bonnie, stop. You're upset. How do you expect me to ignore that and just go slap some butter on some toast?"

"What do I have to be upset about?" she exclaims, slamming the knife down she successfully peeled the fruit with. "I had a thought and it was silly. End of story."

"If it was the end of the story you wouldn't have smoke coming out of your ears," you sigh, closing your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose.

"I don't want to talk about this, okay?" Bonnie cuts in. "Can we please change the subject?"

Yes! Thank God, your internal monologue continues. There's the green light. Be done with it.

In defiance, you grit your teeth.

"Can't you just admit I hurt your feelings? You said something, a harmless thought, and now your feelings are hurt and I don't know what to do to make it better."

You can see Bonnie visibly tense, her fists white-knuckling on the counter.

"Damon, we haven't had a fight in a long time-''

"Yeah, fifteen days at least." You interrupt.

"Exactly. So please, don't start one now. I'm fine. Let it go."

With an annoyed twitch of her lip, she abandons her efforts on breakfast and retreats to the living room, nearly knocking you in the shoulder as she passes.

You aren't in control as a growl escapes you.

"Okay, nope! Definitely not letting it go now," you shout, following in her footsteps.

Bonnie dodges you and starts for the staircase to flee upstairs. With a flash of inhuman movement, you block her path.

"Bonnie," you breathily mutter, arctic blue eyes holding her still. "We need to talk."

"Damon, no," she shakes her head, her bottom lip slightly quivering.

You don't say anything quickly, a reluctant laugh leaving your throat.

"First of all, let's get something straight. If you were the only girl left in the entire world," you whisper, "the world would be a better place for it. They would be lucky to have you, okay?"

Bonnie sniffles, defensively tightening her jacket around her body.

"You're just saying that."

"Really? I just hand out heartfelt compliments like that, huh?"

Before she can check herself, a smile ghosts across her features.

"No," she sighs. "I guess not."

"I don't hand out apologizes very easily either, might I add," you continue, emboldened. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. Can we talk now? Pretty please?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes skyward, as she always does at your antics.

"Isn't that what we're doing?"

You shake your head, slightly sucking on your teeth.

"After all this time together I think my sarcasm is finally wearing off on you." You sidestep and lightly take her arm with the tip of your fingers, guiding the both of you down the stairs.

"Damon, I hate this. What's going on?" she asks, voice almost pouting.

"Hey, you started this! Not me."

"Me?" she gasps, whipping around to face you. "Explain that to me."

"Of course it was you!" you exclaim, pacing towards the bar for some liquid courage. "Ever since we got to this damn place!"

"Damon Salvatore," she seethes, crossing her arms. "Don't you dare blame me for you growing a conscience. Much less, showing human emotion."

"But I'm not! I'm not human, Bonnie, don't you get that?" you bellow as the copious amount of bourbon you pour into your glass sloppily slosh over the rim. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What do you mean, Damon? What's with the riddles? What has happened to you?"

"It's just like you said earlier," you huff, almost defeated. "You're right. I'm different. I feel different. It's starting to freak me out."

"And you're accusing me of doing this to you? Wow. Fantastic. How long have you been harboring this secret? Here I thought we were making headway and now I find out you resent me-"

"I do not resent you!" you exclaim, your bourbon forgotten, fire alit in your eyes. "It's the opposite, actually."

"Damon, you're not making sense-''

"Goddamn it Bonnie, I like you. I really like you. You're important to me, okay?" you burst, your emotions flooding as if a dam had been knocked down.

The witch suddenly lets her shoulders drop, standing stock still.

"It's hard for me to express because of my relationship with Elena. Do you get that?"

Bonnie nods, silent.

"There's the Damon I am with her, and now the Damon I am with you. It's confusing-''

"So this is the guilt talking?" her voice slices. "What do you have to feel guilty about? It's not like we ran off into the sunset together! We're dead and stuck inside a prison world. Let's just get some perspective."

"Nonetheless, I'm with you."

"You're not with me," Bonnie interjects, her voice going small.

"It's close enough, Bon," you sigh, slumping onto the couch. "We've been living together for two whole months." You stop, rubbing your face with your hands. "I haven't spent this much time with someone in my entire existence. I- I don't know what to do."

Time goes by as a quietness envelops the house, a ticking of one of the clocks breaking up the monotony.

You feel a pressure settle in beside you, the couch cushions shifting back and forth.

"Why do you always think I have all the answers?" she asks, nearly laughing. "I'm not some magic genie, Damon. I'm just doing my best to wake up every day. It hasn't been so bad, has it?"

"I don't think you have all the answers," you reply, sneaking a peek at her. "You just seem so- content. Unbothered. How do you do it?"

"You bother me repeatedly," she scoffs.

"Bonnie."

"What?"

"Help me out, huh? I'm being vulnerable, here!"

"We took a long time to find our footing, didn't we?" she replies, her tone going serious again. "We practically ripped each other's throats out the first week we spent together. But we figured out how to weather the storm. We did it. So what if we play board games together, or cook a meal together. So what if we take a second and dance under the moonlight. I haven't looked at that as being- unfaithful," she explains, her shoulders shrugging. "We can't spend months on end just staring at each other, can we?"

You carefully ponder her words, your legs crossing and uncrossing restlessly.

You take too long to respond, so she continues.

"I understand if this whole circumstance is uncomfortable for you, I really do. I wish I could say it's temporary. Had I known you were struggling this much, I wouldn't have- I wouldn't have been so…"

"You?"

A smile dances across your face.

"What?"

"You were going to say you wouldn't have been so 'you'. That's not fair for me to ask you to do."

"I guess I can try to tamp it down a little-''

"No," you interrupt, head shaking decisively. "God, that's not what I meant at all…"

"So you don't want me to change anything? I thought this whole thing was my fault?"

"It is your fault," you reiterate. "But as usual, you have nothing but pure intentions. You're a nurturing and gentle soul by nature. I'm the one who needs to change."

This time it was Bonnie's turn to sit quietly and ponder your words. After a beat, she releases a long sigh and slightly giggles.

You raise a brow. "What's so funny?"

"You are changing, Damon. You're changing every day and that's why you're fighting back so hard. Now you have a physical and mental awareness that you're different than pre-prison world Damon Salvatore. Stop with the guilt and constantly shaming yourself after every step you take. It's toxic."

"Hey, who said I was shaming myself?"

"I can see it lurking behind your eyes, Damon," she replies. "It's almost like you bring a rain cloud with you everywhere you go. That's no way to live, whether in this world or another."

"Hm," you nod, digesting her wisdom. "So, if I'm the rain cloud what are you?"

Without hesitation she replies, "The sunshine, of course."

…

As the morning progressed to evening, and the evening melted into nightfall, you and the witch found yourselves huddled on the couch watching another classic movie. Bonnie took no time swaddling herself in a quilt while you sat beside her, in shorts and a t-shirt. A long, dramatic yawn escaped her as the ending credits began to fill the screen as her weight lay more heavily on you than an hour before.

"Alright, what is gonna be tonight? Carry you to bed or leave you here to eventually fall on the floor?" you quip, nudging her cocooned body with a weary smile. This was a nightly routine you could do with your eyes closed.

"I can't go to sleep after that," she argues, pointing at the television screen. "I'm too worked up!"

"But we've seen this a thousand times," you groan, completely aware she won't give up without a fight.

"Yes, and I know you're just indulging me by watching it with me again. I appreciate that."

"You're welcome. Can we go to bed now?"

"You act like you need to sleep. Are you tired?"

"Bonnie," you sigh, unable to stop a smile. "If you don't come to your senses I'll be forced to throw you over my shoulder. Make your choice wisely."

"I want to stay here for a while," she responds, cuddling her blanket. "It's been a long day and I have some thinking to do. Or maybe I'll watch another movie. I don't know yet."

"You're not still mad at me, are you?" you quietly ask, raising a concerned brow.

Bonnie shakes her head. "I wasn't ever mad at you, Damon. Troubled is a better word to describe it. We both were."

You nod, willing to accept that answer, though you know as time goes on things will continue to progress in complexity between you.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning. We can skip the sunrise this time," she continues, face neutral.

You expect to feel yourself rising to your feet, but after a pause, you don't. You continue to sit there now staring into the static of the T.V screen.

"Damon? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," you answer, crossing your arms. "I think I might stay down here a while longer too."

"Oh?" she asks, voice inquisitive. "Alright. Better go put in another movie then."

"Right. Hold on."

In a flash, you were back on the couch and pressing the 'play' button on the remote. Scenes begin to materialize and colors begin to blend in the next second or two.

You feel the fluffiness of the quilt press into your shoulder. You realize Bonnie is trying to nestle herself into your side like she attempts so often. You tense, only for second, before lifting your left arm and letting her ease her way into you with the new access you granted. Once settled in position, you rest your arm on the back of the couch.

Words lay useless on the tongue between the both of you until two hours into the movie, and into the early hours of the morning, you realize her head is tucked underneath your chin. You blink, surprised so much time has passed without you noticing such an obvious thing. With yesterday morning's conversation fresh in your mind, you decide to not overreact, and observe your surroundings. Your left arm that was draped on the back of the couch now is wrapped around the quilt holding the sleepy witch. She's still tucked into your side and hasn't seemed to move much, despite the fact her head found its way to the underside of your chin.

You slightly clear your throat, testing her reaction. No response.

"Bon?" you hoarsely whisper, tilting your head down so your lips brush the top of her head.

"Hm?" she replies, her head turning back and forth to locate the sound.

"Shh, it's just me. I didn't know if you were awake," you explain, voice as soft as you can muster.

"Barely," she murmurs, her head falling back to rest on your neck. "I think I'll just shut the T.V off and go to sleep here."

"Okay. I'll get it."

The remote still lay in your lap and you quickly scoop it up and shut off the device, leaving you and the witch in complete and total darkness.

"You're staying with me?" she mutters almost incoherently, shifting her weight till her head lay flat on your chest.

"Sure, just until you fall asleep." You can't help but smirk. "Even though you would rather me be your personal teddy bear for the night."

"Well, if you're offering…" she softly giggles, her voice trailing off in sleepiness.

You waste no time comfortably settling yourself on the couch in the off chance you may be there for several more hours. In the quiet darkness you expect your internal monologue to resume and come at you with a vengeance, and you brace for it- but it never comes. Instead, a peaceful stillness overtakes you and you let go for once, with a sincerity you always seem to lack. The last thing you remember before you yourself drifted to sleep was a voice in the distance, soft and reassuring.

"Damon," she says. "I really like you too."