Phantom

2

Damon had her tied to a chair, each wrist bound to the arm rests at either side, when Stefan came in and saw her. He had made sure not to tie the cuffs around her wrists so tightly that it cut off the circulation to her hands, but he had to at least make them tight enough that she could not get out of them so easily. The last half-hour had been spent try to corral her into sitting and he would have been damned if he hadn't done something to make sure she stayed there. It made his heart ache to see her in the state she was in, to know that the only way to keep her safe was to treat her like an animal that needed to be tied up. If Bonnie were an animal, now when he imagined her, she would be something small and fluffy like a bunny. Maybe he would buy one for her when this was all over, he thought, a big white fluffy one.

When he ran his fingers down the side of her face, barely touching her skin, he felt something like an electric charge travel through his arm and into his chest. She was so beautiful that if she were ever his queen he would never be in shadow; He would be her knight in shining armour if she wanted him to be, but whatever she wanted later would have to wait. He would rescue her from whatever nightmare held her captive, he would slay any dragon the stood in his way, and anything else that stood in his way.

Even when she was clearly unreceptive, he spoke to her as if she was. He was almost done with the restraints that would keep her from wandering off. He hardly noticed when Stefan first said his name, too intent on tying the tightest knot a vampire could tie, and he almost went berserk when Stefan laid a hand on his shoulder heavily.

"Damn it Stefan," he said in a hard, quiet voice, "couldn't you see I am busy?"

Stefan looked at Bonnie, a prisoner in the old wooden chair, and then back at Damon. He had to wonder what twisted game he was playing now – the girl was obviously under some sort of spell. Maybe it wasn't Damon influencing her directly, but his brother was devious enough to plan for someone else to do it. "What kind of game are you playing, Damon? What is it that you hope to achieve, charm her into submission? The spell you cast–"

He could only take so much. "You think that if I could do magic I would turn her into this?" he roared, gesturing to the seemingly unconscious Bonnie bound to the chair with metallic clamps, "You think I would sink as low as to influence her? Unlike you brother, I need no..." he tapped his chin pensively, "...assistance... with the ladies..."

"Elena will have your head if she saw this." Stefan said, his voice as placid as the stillest waters.

"I don't care what Elena thinks or does or says. I don't care about anything..."

Stefan interrupted in voice which dripped with knowledge of someone in on an inside joke. "Yes, yes I know Damon. You care about nothing more than do yourself... nothing more than your own pleasure..." He was smiling as he said this.

"Shut up, Stefan! You know nothing of what I am thinking, nothing of what I am feeling. If you did, then you would run the hell out of here." Damon wasn't making an idle threat, as if he ever meant anything other than what he said, and he could barely restrain himself now. If his idiotic little brother didn't begin to grasp the seriousness of the situation soon... hell, he didn't know what he'd do.

Bonnie moaned and her head hung limply against her chest. Her fingers were clawed against the now tattered arm-rest and her shoulders shook in a way that both the vampires watching found disturbing. The obnoxious expression Stefan had been wearing dropped and instead turned into a look of sick apprehension. He looked at his brother and allowed himself to see the raw despair and utter bewilderment stamped on his face. Hadn't he too felt that way when the people of Fells Church suspected him of murdering Elena, hadn't he felt so hopeless and confused, defensive?

Damon took her limp hand in his and squeezed it gently. He kissed it, kneeling at her side as he was, and whispered in her ear that he would save her any way he could. He didn't care if Stefan thought that talking to her when she was not aware was stupid, he didn't care if he said anything to Elena, he didn't care if he had to save her all on his own.

"What can I do?" he asked, feeling as if he should take Damon's shoulder or something but not daring to. Damon seemed far to delicate at the moment, too vulnerable, and he feared what would happen. He knew how confusing it was to love again after centuries of avoiding any attachment to anyone because of what you were, but if it meant a chance to be loved it was worth every second that you fought to make it right.