Plot twist: this tops Turned in priority until I get writer's block.

Thanks for the reviews! I need some ideas for a few AU's, so if you wanna see anything lemme know! I don't want this fic to be super long (like 30 chapters is too long) but if that's what happens...(but don't get your hopes up just in case)

This chapter is like way longer than I intended.


Month 1, Day 0

He considered, for longer than a second and not for the first time, where exactly Bonnie Bennett would end up.

She had insisted that she'd be fine, that with the help of a traveler she would also see another day in the living realm, but there was the tiniest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes…the almost indiscernible inflection of concern in her voice that 99.9% of people wouldn't notice, when she told him again- for the last time if he wanted to make it out of his kamikaze mission alive- that she was going to make it with the rest of them.

Was Damon convinced? Not entirely. It was a nagging doubt that he pushed away because there was no time for worry.

He needed to act quickly and confidently to help the people closest to me on the Other Side: Ric (if he was still alive…alive in the sense of being dead…technicalities), Enzo, and most importantly Stefan. How did all three of the people who willingly associated with him end up dead at the most inconvenient time?

So Damon told himself that he didn't have to worry about the little ex-witch; she was a big girl.

She could handle herself.

She was more than capable of making sure she survives the ghost apocalypse.

If he hadn't been busy saving everyone else's asses by blowing up his own, he wouldn't have ignored the fact that he had literally just brought her back from the dead because, like an idiot, she ended up killing herself to revive her precious Jeremy Gilbert.

Her witch's brew must have been potent since it had her believing she could pull that off, especially after being brainwashed by Professor Creepy.

Those were his last thoughts as Damon tire screech sped straight into the Mystic Grill, squeezing Elena's hand, realizing that little orphan Bonnie was done for. And then he smashed through the windshield of his beloved Camaro, flying through a sea of flame.

He forgot about Bonnie just as he forgot how fucking painful it was to be burnt to an undead crisp as he sailed over the bar of the Mystic Grill when he woke up on the Other Side.

After that it was all about getting the shit done because the clock was ticking, Damon couldn't find Ric, and Liz got caught up in the blast. So, obviously, he had to save her, and he was far from being religious- he had to stop myself from giving Bible-thumpers the finger every time he walked into a church- but whether it was some big man upstairs or the planets aligning for the plan to go perfectly, Ric finally showed up to help him save Liz.

He thought it'd be easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy from that point on.

They found Bonnie, Ric got out, Elena was out. All that was left was him, ready to board the 'I made it out alive' train, when he remembered Bonnie Bennett.

Tiny, spunky Bonnie Bennett, who he knew with so much certainty, was going to be left on the platform, waving goodbye as the Other Side was obliterated and the rest of them sat in their seats and watched her disappear out of existence- or whatever it was she would be doing when the clock hit midnight.

Half of him desperately wanted to leave her and get back to Elena. To live. The other half didn't want to let Bonnie evaporate without a fight. Damon's Adam's apple bobbed, preparing to yell at her to stop.

His body was on the verge of taking a step back and out of her reach, but she grasped his arms and pulled him closer. For one sick second, he wondered if he could manage to squeeze in a goodbye kiss before it was too late.

Except nothing happened.

The train had departed. Without Damon. He already knew it, but Bonnie tried again anyways, and was met with the same result. He was still dead.

How did he feel about that? He was devastated. He was relieved. He realized he probably had Borderline Personality Disorder.

"Well would you look at that," he said. "I guess I'm shit out of luck."

Bonnie was speechless.

He tried to keep his goodbyes short, since no one would be able to hear him anyways (and he really wanted to get back to Bonnie).

"This place is going down isn't it?" he asked over the roars of wind, walking up to stand to next to Bonnie.

"It is," she said simply.

She was taking their end very well…Bonnie never ceased to impress Damon. But, then again, so was he; he never expected to be so cavalier about his death.

Maybe because he had done his job and proved to be the man everyone wanted him to be but wasn't. Maybe because he wasn't going alone.

"I'm sure there are a million people we'd both rather be with right now," she started saying, interrupting his thoughts, "But…"

He felt her hand brush against his before her fingers slid across his and interlocked with each other perfectly. It was effortless and in sync.

"Couple thousand at most," he replied.

It was tragic, Damon thought, gazing at her while the world prepared to explode around them, that they'd find each other now, of all times.

They turned back to the brilliant white nebula threatening to swallow them.

"Do you think it will hurt?"

The question made him think back to when he was still human. When he used to wish for an easy death; quick- like the neck snaps he was so fond of-, or- unaware like dying in your sleep.

Instead he had been shot in the chest, felt the blaze of pain in his lungs and heart and everywhere until he lost feeling altogether and died cursing his father, and even Stefan.

He hoped this time it would be different.

"I don't kn-"


Month 1, Day 1

He blinked. Blue skies. An ugly, yellowing building surrounded by chain-link fences.

"Damon? Damon, did you hear me? Are you still there?"

He looked at the black iPhone in his hand; the caller ID read John B. He left the man on the line, hearing the faint "Hello? Damon? Damn service…" as he focused past his hand and saw a pair of black Chuck Taylor's with his jeans and black button up shirt.

Sneakers? His face twisted disdainfully and he turned around to see he was leaning against an old Honda Civic. He gagged and put the phone to his ear.

"I'm here. What did you say?"

John B. sighed gratefully. "I said don't forget to put the contract for informant in her file and send it to the chief of police."

Damon turned again to face the building. Someone was walking out. "…Okay…"

"Great. I'll see you next week!"

John B. hung up the line and left Damon to decide whether to run or square up before the newly released prisoner reached him.

The vampire in him told him to stand his ground.

But then he remembered the blinding white light and the hand that he squeezed between his fingers when it went supernova. Where was Bonnie? What had happened? He was on the verge of going full panic mode.

Relief washed over him when the woman got closer and he recognized the pout of her mouth and her lush green eyes, usually lukewarm at best in his presence, but right now they were bright with fear and confusion, mixed in with the reassurance of seeing a familiar face and she broke into a run.

Her attire- dark skinny jeans, over-the-knee, black boots, and a tank top so sheer under her leather jacket that he could see her bright red bra- and hairstyle was something Damon never thought he'd never see on her.

Bonnie jogged up to him, a smile- mirroring the one she had on before they found out he had missed his ticket out of the Other Side- was stretched on her face. He had the urge to catch her in his arms and keep her there. What were the chances of her forgetting like she did the hug when he found on her on Silas's island?

"Thank God!" she called out, her breath coming out in white puffs.

To his surprise, she reached out and wound her arms around his waist when she crashed into him, her face hidden in his chest. Damon's arms wrapped around her shoulders thoughtlessly, automatically, and he pressed his face into the uncharacteristic braids tight at her scalp.

"What the hell is this?" he questioned, plucking one of the ten braids from behind her back. "Cornrows?"

Bonnie backed out of his embrace and swatted his hand away when she saw his smirk. "That's the first thing you bring up? My hairstyle?"

He stressed a little bit less in their unfamiliar surroundings and strange situation. He picked up the braid again, twirling it around his finger before pulling his finger down to the flat of her chest right above her breasts, letting the hair unravel from his index finger and fall away.

"Its almost as disturbing as your outfit."

Bonnie hit his hand away again and took a step back, glaring heavily.

"Or the fact that you're exiting a prison."

"Is it almost as disturbing as your beard? Or that you're the parole officer picking me up?" she retorted.

Damon's smirk quirked up even higher on his face and he asked, "Did you find yourself a girlfriend in there? What was her name?"

"Damon."

"Big Boo? Pennsatucky?"

Bonnie punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Because you're disgusting. And Pennsatucky wasn't even a lesbian."

She huffed and crossed her arms tightly across her chest, hiding her cleavage, to Damon's dismay.

"And because where the hell are we!" she shouted, waving her hands wildly in the air, frustrated that Damon had managed to sidetrack her.

He rubbed his offended shoulder. "Fluvanna Correctional Center for Women," he answered, pointing to the sign.

She glanced back and shuddered.

Damon opened his mouth to shoot out another joke when an unrecognizable memory played in his head.

He sat in a meeting room of the prison across from Bonnie who still had cornrows and a freshly split lip. A man, no, a police officer out of uniform sat on the corner of the table, looming over her as she signed a stack of papers. She finished and set the pen on the papers then slid them to Damon.

"Fantastic. These should be processed in a week or two, then you'll be released into my custody."

Bonnie sat back in her seat silently, staring intently into Damon's ice blue eyes, causing the fine hairs on the back of his neck to raise. He scratched his stubbly beard bashfully and the right corner of her lip twitched almost unnoticeably.

Damon blinked out of the memory and caught his Bonnie's stare.

"Did you see that?"

She nodded, rubbing her arm awkwardly. Damon reached behind him and opened the passenger door, jerking his head to motion her to get in.

"We're still in Virginia. It won't take long to get back to Mystic Falls."

He closed her door when she sat in the stained, torn seat and walked around the car to hop inside, peeling away as if he was in his Camaro. The drive was smooth, besides the sporadic separate barrage of memories they had to suffer through.

It was disconcerting living through memories and feelings that were never truly experienced. Bonnie's memories affected her more than Damon, cycling through the troubling circumstances that led her to a life of crime. Halfway through the ride she finally snapped and burst into tears.

"Oh God, don't do that," Damon pleaded, gripping the wheel tighter and glancing at her every so often with a grimace.

"Fuck you!" she shouted, adopting new Bonnie's vulgarity. "Why aren't you more worried about what the hell is going on?"

"Because I'm with you! And between my superior intellect and the fact that you're the most competent in our happy little Brady Bunch, I'd put money on us figuring this shit out. So stop crying."

The last time his parallel self checked his bank account flashed through his mind; it held a little over $5,000. For bills. He slapped the wheel, feeling the weight of middle class struggle. "If I had any money! The pay for this job is downright degrading."

Bonnie sucked her teeth and side-eyed him. "Says the parole officer who just picked up an ex-convict who had to slang dope on the streets just so she wouldn't end up homeless. At least you're above the poverty line."

He took her quip as a sign of good faith and his brow lifted when she didn't badger him with questions like 'how' or 'when' or 'are you an idiot'.

"You're intellect is subpar," she threw in a moment later, sounding disgusted and wiping the tears off her face.

Damon's frown deepened and his left eyebrow twitched. "Just for that, I'm gonna take you into the office and you're peeing in a cup." He grabbed a water bottle out of the side pocket of his car and held it in front of her face obnoxiously. "Better drink up."

He actually did make Bonnie pee in a cup. And she was pissed, but Damon's flagrant teasing helped calm her down more. They reached Mystic Falls and Bonnie demanded that they go straight to Caroline's.

They reached the house and got out, apprehensive about what would they learn. Driving through the town, everything looked the same, and so did everyone., but they forgot to question why Damon was able to enter the town with no repercussions.

Bonnie hurried up the steps and frantically knocked on the door. Damon strode up next to her, skillfully holding a poker face. They saw Caroline bounce down the stairs through the door window and their heart raced.

The blonde opened the door, eyebrows drawing low on her face.

"Caroline!" Bonnie exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You have no idea how good it is to see you."

"Excuse me?" Caroline screeched, pushing Bonnie away as if she was a bum off of the street. "Why are you touching me! I don't know you!"

Bonnie stumbled back and Damon caught her before she backpedaled all the way back into prison. "Wha-"

"You better get the hell off my porch before I call the cops!"

And then she slammed the door, noisily took care of the locks, and spared them a backwards glance before she disappeared up the stairs.


I actually have no idea how much parole officers make lol. Drug dealer Bonnie really intrigues me; I was like "What should the first AU be?" and idk how deep I'm going to delve into these alternate selves (if someone wants to write for these AUs please do). Or how I'm flip flopping through past and present.

If you've never watched Orange is the New Black, I recommend it. Fair warning, second season has an influx of sex scenes.

For the folks that asked about SDCC (yup, it stands for San Diego Comic Con): GO FIND THE VIDEO THEY SHOWED AT THE TVD PANEL AND THEN GO WATCH VIDEOS (OR GIFS, OR EVEN JUST PICS TBH) OF THE PANEL AND ANY INTERVIEW WITH KAT AND IAN (TOGETHER OR SEPARATE. ESP IAN'S. GO GO GO GO SEE IAN'S INTERVIEWS!). AND THEN FLOP AROUND ON THE FLOOR WITH ME.