A/N: I just wanted to let you all know that this fanfic has reached 3, 000 reads! So, thank you! I appreciate all the nice reviews some of you leave and the support this story fic has gotten so far!
As Valarie finishes the spell five minutes later, the rocks that sit on the floor begin to shake and the flames licking off the candles and in the fireplace are suddenly shooting upward, the fire dancing on the candles almost touching the ceiling.
Five feet to Enzo's right, Valarie shrieks at the top of her lungs, bouncing off the throw pillow she sits on and throwing herself sideways, so she's laying with her head only four inches away from his feet. The grimoire had fallen out of her hands and clattered to the floor, open, but upside down and only foot from the fireplace.
He watches silently, but with eyebrows scrunch together in concern, as the red-headed heretic lifts her arm and with a wide wave of her head the flames in both the fireplace and those on the candles settles, along with the rocks that calm down, but not before emitting a bright white light that fills the entire living area.
Both Enzo and Valarie shield their eyes by turning their heads to the side, eyes shut and left arm thrown over to the block the light. A minute passes before the glow starts to dim and they're able to open their eyes.
"...What the bloody hell was that?!" Enzo shouts at the heretic once his vision clears, his British accent coming out in full effect.
Still lying on the floor, Valarie twists her body so she's sitting up, hands in her lap as she stared up at the whiskey brown-eyed vampire. Instead of yelling back at him like she wanted to, she calmly states, "I have absolutely no clue."
But her answer only angers Enzo further.
"What do you mean you have no clue?" He questions angrily, throwing his arms out.
Jaw clenched, but still trying to hold back from strangling the British twat, she says, "It means exactly what I said. I. Don't. Know."
Enzo stares skeptically at her. "We could've been sucked into oblivion and your only answer is 'I don't know'?"
That was the last straw for Valarie. Using her vampire speed, one minute she sitting on the floor, the next she's standing and ready to pounce.
She could feel the familiar sensation of her gums stinging and when she ran her tongue along the top row of her teeth, she winced when she felt one of her canines trying to emerge from where it was hidden under the thin layer of skin. The urge to rip something—or more of, someone—apart was growing stronger by the second, and Valarie knew if she didn't calm down she'd be ripping a chunk out of Enzo's neck. And, although it didn't seem like such a bad idea, Valarie didn't think the sleeping Bennett witch in the other room would be too happy about finding her lover torn apart, limbs scattered about the cabin.
Taking a deep breath and counting to ten—scratch that, make it forty—the need to tear a certain British vampire subsidies, or at least enough to where Valarie could think of anything besides blood and violence. Instead, she takes the high road.
Step forward, Valarie closes the huge three feet gap between Enzo and herself, leaving a good four inches of room. Due to the height difference, her forehead matched up with his nose, and because of that, she had to look up to him—and for a flicker of a moment, Valarie despises her shortness. But only for a moment because there were more important things to worry about, such as a dying lover and unconscious Damon Salvatore that stayed lying on the floor.
Pressing a finger to his chest, she speaks for the first time in minutes, ignoring Enzo's question, "...How about instead of using me as your own personal punching bag —" she pokes him, fingernail digging into his shirt,"—you go and check on that girlfriend that you claim to love oh-so-dearly? Shouldn't making sure she's breathing be more important to you than my competence—which, I can assure you, is perfectly intact."
Enzo opens his mouth to say something, but when Valarie pokes him again, he shuts it. Teeth grinding together, he grumbles something that sounds a lot like gibberish before swatting the heretic's hand away and walking away, having a sick girlfriend to attend to.
As he's making his way to his lover's bedside, Enzo doesn't miss the odd, quiet—but audible sound that only someone such as himself with vampire hearing could hear—thumping sound Damon emitted when he walked past. But instead of stopping to investigate the noise, he decides to continue on his merry way.
When Enzo reached Bonnie's room, he goes to open the door. But, much to his surprise, he already finds it to be opened. Raising a hand, he lightly presses on the wooden board, the door's hinges creaking as it opened. It came as a shock to Enzo when he didn't find Bonnie lying on the bed—a place that he had gotten used to seeing her be. Scanning the room with his eyes in worry, he finds that the door to the half-bath that connects to the bedroom is wide open.
Cautiously, he strolls over to the entryway of the door and peers inside the bathroom, what he sees leaves him a state of shock.
There, kneeling on the floor and hunched over the toilet bowl, was Bonnie.
"...Bonnie," Enzo breaths out her name slowly and quietly, stepping one foot into the cramped space. But when his foot lands on the floor, due to his weight, the floorboards creak under pressure, announcing his presence. Instantly, Bonnie's head snaps to the side, her gaze landing on him and Enzo sucks in a breath, eyes widening.
Instantly, Bonnie's head snaps to the side, her gaze landing on him and Enzo sucks in a breath, eyes widening.
"What did you do to me?" Bonnie demanded as a mixture of the black goo she had been hurling up earlier and blood stained covered the bottom half of her face, dribbling off her chin and leaving droplets on where it fell on the floor. Enzo takes a step back out of the bathroom when he notices that when the droplets of whatever Bonnie was puking up left the wood panels sizzling, trails of smoke floating in the air.
"N-Nothing," he stuttered, blinking rapidly.
But it was a lie. He had done something to her—or more so, he and Damon had done something horrific to his girlfriend.
"Don't lie to me!" She yelled, standing up on shaky legs.
Enzo is taken aback for a moment—but not just at Bonnie yelling at him, but for a fraction of second, with the goo and blood dribbling down her, he could've sworn she looked exactly like a vampire that's just fed.
"I'm not!" He shouted back in defense of himself. "...Believe me, Bonnie, I'm not."
She only shakes her head, a humourless chuckle slipping past her lips. "Do you honestly think you can give me those sad, puppy dog eyes and I'd just, what, fall into your arms forgiving you?" Bonnie raised a skeptical eyebrow, one hand on her hip and a dangerous glint in her eyes. "I've spent my entire life around lairs, and although your heart doesn't beat Lorenzo, I have known you long enough to tell when you're lying to me. Now, tell me, what. The. Hell. Did. You. Do. To. Me?"
Enzo swallows harshly, suddenly realizing he's got nowhere to run. An
And he's never been this scared of Bonnie Bennett more than he was right now.
She could give him an aneurysm, chop off his hand, and stab him with a wooden stake and he'd still wouldn't be terrified of her.
But with the black goo and blood dribbling down her chin, her shirt stained with it and her teeth covered in it, he was absolutely horrified.
As Enzo opens his mouth to speak, but the sound of Valarie shouting his name interrupts him from saying the words he didn't have.
Saved by the heretic, he thought as gives Bonnie one last apologetic glance before turning around and speeding off into the living room.
"What's the matter—What the in the bloody hell is happening to him?!"
Enzo stops in tracks, almost running smack into the recliner when his gaze lands on a very pale, still very unconscious Damon lying on the floor. The only difference from earlier before he went to go check on Bonnie was that Damon was now seizing, body shaking and some sort of black foam oozing out of the corner of his mouth—the same black foam that held a very odd resemblance to the black goo Bonnie had been puking up.
Kneeling over his was Valarie, a washcloth in hand as she went to go wipe the foam from Damon's lips when Enzo spots that when some of the foam landed on the floor, it did exactly what it had done when the black goo was dribbling off Bonnie's chin, it started to burn through the floorboards, creating a hole.
"Valarie! Don't!" He shouts, flashing over to the red-headed heretic and wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back right as black goo starts to ooze out of Damon's nose and ears, his body becoming still and the seizing stopping.
"What's happening to him?" Valarie whispers into Enzo's ear.
Looking down at her, Enzo shakes his head. "I don't know."
As Enzo is letting Valarie go, Bonnie comes rushing out of the bedroom, stumbling around. But she freezes when her eyes land on Damon and they widen in both fear and shock.
"Damon!" She cries in horror, and in a second, she is by his side, small hands cupping his face. Before Enzo could warn her, Bonnie, using her thumb, wipes away the black goo coming out of Damon's nose. Shockingly, it had burned her like Enzo had been expecting the goo to do. "No...no, no, no!" Enzo didn't have to see Bonnie's face to tell that she was crying, the quiet whimpers coming from were enough.
Throwing her head over her shoulder, she glances behind her, eyes locking with Enzo's. "Why won't he wake up?"
But Enzo didn't have an answer. She could see that clear as day on his face—he had absolutely no clue what was happening to Damon. And that pissed Bonnie off.
And that pissed Bonnie off.
"Why did you do this?" She asked as she directed her gaze back down at Damon, running her dainty fingers through his hair, vision becoming clouded and glassy with tears. Using her right hand, she wipes away the tears that fall and slipped down her cheeks. She wouldn't cry—at least, not right now.
When she spots that the black goo that was running down Damon's nose was also coming out of his ears and slipping down his neck, she takes the washcloth that Valarie had dropped only a minute prior and wipes the goo off his neck. But something odd happens when she's cleaning up the goo.
It's only small, faint. But it's there.
Her eyes widen as she presses her index finger and middle finger to Damon's neck.
Closing her eyes, Bonnie counts.
1, 2, 3, 4—she gets all the way to thirty before she feels it again.
The bouncing sensation.
Her eyes open and her lips part with a small gasp.
Damon...had a pulse?
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you enjoyed this chapter! If you're looking for more Bamon fics, you should definitely check out my other BD fanfics.