a/n: This is a disclaimer. This will not be nice and pretty and fluffy. There won't be any supernatural enemies, no outside Big Bads, no life or death situations. This is festering wounds and romantic entanglements and lots of gray. I'm not interested in determining who's the lesser evil, Kai or Damon. Kai kills people, and so does Damon. That's it. No one is better. This is my take on Bonnie returning, changing, and finally, living a complicated, messy, deservedly selfish life. So, please, if you feel like comparing Kai and Damon in a review, refrain. I know the same things you know. I just don't care.
Thank you, dear readers, for reviewing. Enjoy.
Present: Spring
Elena fixed a vacant stare on the garden beyond the bay window. Not a garden. A blooming patch of vibrant jades and lilacs and red poppies, dusky daffodils and wild pansies. She spotted lily-of-the-valley mixed with wolf's bane and purple verbena. A leafy branch of a flowering dogwood tree gently tapped the window as a gentle breeze carried the scent of gardenia and sweet basil and, underneath, the spice of lemongrass. A low whistle sounded.
For a moment, Elena could not differentiate the sound of the wind from that of the kettle. She had lost track of where she was, and why. For a moment, all that existed was the garden beyond the window, the silver sunlight filling the room, the rattle of the window, the smell of gardenia.
The door opened. Her eyes fell towards the shadow. She remembered now. She waited until Bonnie set the tea cup on the desk to look. She was on the other side, closing books and shuffling papers and screwing the caps on pens. Elena hoped she did this out of anxiety, to prolong the inevitable. And then she discovered she had forgotten what Bonnie did when she was nervous, even though she was sure knew all the other days before this one.
Bonnie caught her dazed look. Elena quickly reached for the tea. She forgot why Bonnie made it, but she drank it anyway. The last edge of hysteria smoothed into a clear, hard logic.
She looked at Bonnie over the rim of the teacup.
"Thanks."
Bonnie crossed her arms over the desk. "You're welcome."
They stared at each other. Elena still didn't believe it, yet it was true. It happened. She couldn't imagine Bonnie hurting her, never, it was inconceivable, but she said it happened. Elena set the cup down. It happened and now here she sat, in the chair they reupholstered together, on the brink of imploding the remaining pillar of her once normal life.
Should she go first? Bonnie waited. It was Elena who wanted answers, not Bonnie. Bonnie never asked questions, she never begged for explanations. Even when they were girls growing together, Bonnie either knew or didn't know.
Elena left the chair and went to the window. The sky was cornflower blue. The glass was warm from the sun. She wanted to be outside, in the tangle of the yard.
"This is the first time I've seen your garden."
"You're the first person to see it."
A dry grin reflected in the window. "Really."
"You said no more lies. So, no more illusions, no glamours."
Elena watched a bee, its fat body lazily buzzing from flower to flower. "Remember when you showed me you were a witch? You ripped open my pillow, dumped out the feathers and suspended them in the air."
"I remember."
"Was that the last time you were honest with me?"
"Is this what you want to do, pick over the past?"
Elena looked at her. "The past is all we have left."
Bonnie held her stare for a long second before looking away, towards the door. "The last time I was honest with you was when Grams died. It was too much to suddenly be alone, with all that power, so I started hiding. I started pretending to be strong." She grinned. "Fake it til you make it, right?"
A faint grin pulled at Elena's mouth. "You did a good job. I never suspected otherwise."
"That's why it was so easy for you to smile and laugh and comfort me while you fucked Damon," she said.
"I wasn't thinking about you, Elena -"
"-that's obvious-"
"I was thinking about what it would be like to give in, to do something unthinkable, to touch and be touched and not think about later or consequences or feelings. I didn't do it because I wanted to betray you, or because I held a grudge," Bonnie shrugged, "I did it for me. Because I didn't want to wonder what it would be like."
Elena waited for the anger to veer towards either tears or violence, but she remained at the window, eyes trained on Bonnie's face. She hated her, really and truly. Hated her for the ease in which she admitted destroying all her beliefs. Hated the helpless shrug of her shoulders, hated how the light hit her face and made her beautiful, actually. Above all, she hated the perfectly relatable explanation. That was how she felt about Damon, without all the angst.
She didn't come here to relate to Bonnie. She didn't come here for self-reflection. She came here to inflict damage, to make her feel like swallowing barbed wire. She grasped at a thought, one that made her palms sweat and her stomach twist.
"How many times did you sleep with him?"
"Once. Over the course of a weekend."
"So not once. How many times? Once a day?"
Bonnie inhaled. "We had sex six times over the course of one weekend."
"And before that? Any kisses? Groping?"
"A kiss. Quick, on the mouth, no heat."
Elena pressed her forehead to the window. It was warm. That was how they used to break down a kiss. Short, long, no air. On the cheek, on the mouth, tongue. Medium heat, ghost chili, soaked panties. They leapt from platonic peck to six times. Damon didn't do platonic. Bonnie didn't do Damon. But she did. Elena closed her eyes. She did. She did. She did.
"After?"
There was a pause before Bonnie answered, "Twice. The first time we almost...the second time, we didn't."
"Recently?"
"This morning."
Elena laughed. "Wow." She pushed off the window and looked to Bonnie. "Did he pick you up, press you into the wall, slip his fingers into your underwear?"
"Enough," Bonnie said, standing. "You're a lot of things, Elena, but vulgar isn't one of them."
"Would it be less vulgar if I said it in Latin, whispered it like some fucking spell?"
"Fine. Yes. Yes. We screwed, and yes, it was mindblowing, and yes, I sucked him off and yes, he went down on me and no, it was all raw and hard and -"
She slapped her before she even thought about it. Bonnie caught herself before she fell back into the chair. A spasm of pain rippled across her brain. Elena stumbled into a shelf, knocking loose an avalanche of books.
When Elena looked up, Bonnie stood over her. She had a stillness in her face that reminded Elena of a vampire just before the kill.
"The next time won't be so gentle," Bonnie said.
Sitting there in a heap, anger and sadness choking her, Elena believed her. The Bonnie she grew up with, the Bonnie that gave selflessly, was gone.
Bonnie bent to pick up and put back the fallen books. Elena stood, moved to help, thought better of it, and took a seat in the armchair. Tears welled as she watched Bonnie work. Grief struck her hard. She pressed her eyes to stop the tears. How did it come to this? She didn't even touch Damon, although she wanted to. She wanted to punch a hole through his chest. She never though about hitting Bonnie and yet her cheek was red and bruising.
She heard a latch squeak, a soft clatter, and a cool, strongly scented breeze entered the room. Elena removed her hands. She sat quietly for several minutes, listening. Someone was in the shower upstairs. Someone was in the living room, watching the news and scraping butter on toast. Someone just closed the front door, keys jingling, footsteps hurrying to the study door.
A light knock. "Bonnie?" It was Kai.
"I'm studying for a final." Bonnie's voice was clear, and close. The chair rolled towards the desk.
"Okay." He sighed. "Are you okay?"
Elena opened her eyes to see Bonnie staring at her. "I'm fine. I think Sam might need some help with a glamour."
Kai grumbled something too low for even her hearing and continued down the hall. They were alone again.
Bonnie pressed her hands together. "Anything else you would like to know?"
Anything else? Elena didn't know. She had a headache, and healing made her hungry, and hunger plus confusion plus heartache made her tired.
"I can't think," Elena touched her temples, "I need to rest."
Bonnie gestured towards the door. "We can finish tomorrow. Or after you have fed."
Elena shifted sideways in the armchair, feet dangling over the arm rest, head tucked into the wing. "No. Not yet. I just need to sleep," she said, shutting her eyes.
She heard her name as an exasperated sigh, then she heard nothing but the flapping of wings and wind rustling the grasses.
Kai examined the nose. It was hooked, bumpy, with a wart on the end. It was also hanging off Sam's chin. The place where his nose should be consisted of two holes. Somehow this was the least disconcerting problem Kai had to deal with this morning. He frowned at the nose.
"Oh, God, please don't tell me this is permanent."
"What? Oh," Kai waved a hand, "it's not a strong curse. Best thing to do is to let it dissipate naturally."
"And how long will that take?"
"I would raincheck any dates you had tonight with Tom, Dick, or Harry."
Sam made a face. "Very cute. Only one dick tonight, fyi." He touched the nose and shuddered. "Can't you just flex your muscle and lift the curse?"
Kai smiled. "No Magic Mondays. Sorry."
"I'm sure," Sam said. He wrapped a scarf around half his face and put on a pair of oversized shades.
"So," Sam turned to him, "what did you do?"
Kai lifted an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Bonnie would have never done that if she wasn't agitated by something, and the only something capable of agitating her is you. So," Sam crossed his arms, "what did you do?"
Kai threw his head back with a sigh. "This time it wasn't me. But maybe it was. I don't know."
"Ahem."
A bong floated before Kai's eyes.
"I think you need a session."
Kai wrinkled his nose. "Did you clean out the bowl? 'Cause I don't want a disappear for two hours."
"No worries," Sam shook a baggie, "Fresh, old school weed."
They assumed their customary positions by the window. Sam took the first hit, then passed it over.
"Now that we're comfortable, tell me what's on your mind."
Kai blew out the smoke and watched it fade into the air. "I went to the market, purchased some raspberries."
"And?"
"You know that vampire, Damon Salvatore? I stopped by his place."
Smoke sputtered from Sam's mouth. He snatched the bong from Kai and set it on the ground.
"You said we wouldn't interfere in vampire business."
"Relax. It was personal. Nothing happened."
"Right," Sam straightened the scarf. "Nothing happened but here you are, frowning and distracted."
Kai stared out the window. The weed started to loosen the control he had on his thoughts. The filter disengaged. He thought about getting angry, this was some magic herb stuff, but then it felt too heavy. He sank against the wall and placed his chin on the window sill.
"I was on my way back from the market when I thought, 'Did it work? I hope it worked.' You know I can't stand not knowing. So I went there, to that house. I knew where he'd be. The kitchen. He was alone, his back to the windows. He stood at the table, staring ahead at what, I couldn't figure out, but I knew something had happened. Something that made him stand so still, as though he was afraid movement would break him. You know what I thought, in that moment?"
Kai inhaled a spring breeze laden with lilac and the sweet fragrance of poisonous plants. "Finally. I can kill him. His guard was destroyed. I had done it. Moved everyone so cleverly and left him exposed. I can finally kill him."
Sam picked up the bong and carefully added more grass to the bowl. He took a long hit and held the smoke for as long as he could before exhaling it in a pattern of rings. "Did you do it?" he asked when the last ring vanished.
Kai glanced at him. "That's the wrong question to ask."
"It's the only question that matters. Did you do it?"
Kai looked at his hands. "No. I left. I did enough."
Sam passed the bong. Kai held it for several seconds before bring the mouthpiece to his lips.
"You should have killed him. You'll always wonder about them," Sam said.
Kai grinned. "You always know more than you let on." They shared a small smile before Kai turned his attention to beyond the window.
"We shared power today. It was...amazing. She's better than she thinks."
"She trusts you."
"I know," Kai closed his eyes, "that's why I couldn't do it."
Bonnie pressed 'Ignore' for the fifth time. She didn't bother listening to the voicemails. He didn't need to warn her, or ask her, or tell her. While Elena slept, Bonnie stared at his contact info. She thumbed through pictures of them, emails they sent, all the electronic mementos of their time together. She tried to commit them to memory but what was the use? She was human, more human than the rest of them, and she would forget, in time, what he looked like with shades on, how corny his emails could be, what she looked like when she stood next to him.
She erased his words first, then his number, then his profile. The pictures, last. She lingered on the final photograph. It was a silly one of him cuddling a rabbit, ring pops on his fingers, flashing a gold grill smile. She couldn't stop laughing that day.
Bonnie deleted it, then did a hard reset of her phone. It was done and she hoped to feel relief, but anger came instead.
Elena began to stir. Bonnie watched her. Never, not once during their friendship, did she resent Elena. Their bond transcended that of friendship to sisterhood. They would do anything for each other. Nothing stood between them, not even death. Everything she had, Grams, a mother, a father, love, power, dreams, hope, was given in service to that bond. It became the only thing she had left, and even that wasn't strong enough to pull her out of purgatory.
Bonnie wondered if it was ever strong, if all that tethered them together was her belief in them. Elena stretched, the sunlight slanted across her face. Bonnie could see why so much had been sacrificed in her name. Elena had effortless, innate beauty. She was good, she cared, she cried. Like a rose, she smelled sweet. And like a rose, sweetness rotted.
Brown eyes blinked open, dazed. They swept the room once, then rested on Bonnie. They blanked as they took in the state of her cheek. Bonnie remembered then the tenderness, the blood she swallowed. She felt it fresh, but this time it stung all the way down to the very nerves of her spine.
"Until fifteen minutes ago I thought something could be salvaged," Bonnie said.
Elena swallowed, stiffened. "I didn't want to."
"Yet you did." Bonnie leaned back into the chair. "What is left to destroy, Elena? The past is gone, the future nonexistent, and the present," Bonnie lifted her hands, "is just a waste of time. So what more can I do for you?"
Elena leaned forward onto her elbows. She searched the carpet for an answer.
"Tell me what happened after you came back," Elena whispered.
"Why?"
"Because," Elena rubbed her face, "because I didn't come here because of Damon. Not really. I came here because the Bonnie I know, the Bonnie I love wouldn't do that. Not to herself. Not when she knew it would only break her heart."
Bonnie sat dumbfounded for a moment. "Are you really that blind, Elena? God," she stood. "I guess Damon neglected to inform you."
She came out from behind the desk and stood before Elena. "That Bonnie never came back from 1994. That Bonnie is dead."