rating: high pg-13/teen (violence)
word count: 10,521
music: fanmix available on 8tracks (sarcasticfina)
-2/4-
Damon stared, wide eyed, at the empty space she'd been standing in, letting out a strangled noise. He blinked wildly, stumbling forward and falling to his knees. Blood. There was blood on the floor. From the knife across her palm or her throat? He pressed his fingers to it, cringing when he found it warm, and closed his eyes as his palm pressed flat to the floor, sliding against the slick surface. Bile crawled up his throat, and he shook his head.
("What's the point of being back when nobody cares?")
"I cared," he murmured. "I care. I… No. No, no, no." He sat back, arms hanging limp at his sides. "Come back. Come back. Please. I'm sorry. Bon, I— I'm sorry."
("There's always a choice. Whenever you make one, someone else suffers.")
"It was the wrong choice. It was the wrong…" His eyes darted around, tears brimming. "I made the wrong choice."
("Just once I want someone to pull me back from that edge and tell me no. That I don't have to. That I shouldn't. That my life matters just as much.")
"I should've. I should've stopped you. I…" A sob welled up in chest, the pressure making him cough.
Behind him, Matt rushed into the room, stumbling to a stop in the doorway of the living room. "Damon," he called. "Jesus. Elena?" He hurried across the floor, falling to her side, his hand on her shoulder while the other cupped around her neck in a pointless gesture of trying to stall the bleeding. "Damon, where's Bonnie?"
("She sacrificed herself so I could come back.")
He shook his head, his brow furrowed.
"Damon?!" Matt exclaimed. "Where the hell is Bonnie?"
"She's gone," he choked out, tears spilling over the edges. "They took her. It was her or Elena. She… Enzo was going to kill her if she didn't go. I… I didn't know what to do."
("I'd like to think I'm not the same guy I was. That maybe this time around, I'll make better choices.")
"Is she alive?" Matt wondered, his voice cracking.
Damon shook his head jerkily. "Enzo had a knife. He…" His gaze fell to the floor, and he lifted his hand, his palm stained with her blood. "He cut her throat."
"No." Matt shook his head, his shoulders slumping and his breath hitching. "No."
Damon stared at his palm, his vision going fuzzy around the edges. A tear fell, blotting at the blood, washing it away. He curled his fingers into his palm to preserve it, and shifted, pushing himself up from the floor, taking the ascendant with him. His knees shook beneath him as he stumbled backwards, drunk on his grief.
The fire flickered, making shadows dance over Matt as he held a bleeding, unconscious Elena in his lap, his flushed face twisted up as he cried. She was breathing, her color slowly coming back, Matt's split open wrist pressed to her parted lips.
"I have to go," Damon said distantly, his eyes darting in every direction, refusing to land on anything in particular.
"What?" Matt stared up at him, confused. "You can't go. They took Bonnie. They'll come back with those things! What the hell am I supposed to do? What about Elena?"
Damon shook his head, his arm reaching behind him, trying to steady himself on the wall and smearing it with blood. "It's over."
A choking noise answered him before Elena jerked her head up, blinking sluggishly. "Da— Damon?"
He looked at her, blood drying down her front, her throat slowly healing, eyes glazed, and he grimaced.
Elena's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? What happened?"
"She just needed one person… One person who cared enough to stop her."
Elena shook her head faintly. "It's not your fault. It's not…"
"She just— She walked right into their arms, let herself die. For you."
Elena flinched, her breathing labored as she stared back at him.
Damon pushed off the wall then and stumbled up the step to the hallway.
"You can't leave. I need you," she called after him, her voice strained.
("I know what that feels like. When everyone you want to care looks past you for someone else. When they walk away and give you excuses and pick someone over you.")
Damon paused, looking back at her over his shoulder. "It's not about you anymore."
"Damon."
"I should have saved her… I have to live with that."
Tears blurring her eyes, she shook her head. "Don't go. Please."
His gaze fell away from her, landing on the fire. "You never should've remembered me…" He shook his head, his mouth turned to the side. "I should've stayed away from you." He turned, and walked away, right out the front door and directly for his car. He could still hear her, crying his name, but he didn't stop. He got into his car and fumbled with his keys when his fingers shook.
"Fuck. Fuck!" he yelled, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel.
Damon bowed his head, hyperventilating as his heart crawled up into his throat.
("With all that power, is there no way to increase your odds?")
"I can fix this," he told himself, over and over again. "I can fix it. I can bring you back." He shoved his keys in the ignition and leaned back, staring out the windshield, his face set with determination. "I will."
He turned his car around the driveway and started for the main road, foot pressed down heavy on the gas. All he needed was Lucy; he could have her take him to the other world. He would get Bonnie's… her body. And then… whatever it took. Resurrection couldn't be too hard, right? Bonnie had done it enough times. If they wanted a sacrifice, he'd bring them eight; his mother, her witchpires, and Enzo. And if they wanted a human, then he'd grab the first schmo he saw on the street; hell, he'd throw in Donovan if he had to. No more excuses, no more regrets or apologies or anything.
He would fix this. All of it. And this time, when he got her back, he wasn't letting her go. Not for anything.
…
—You've reached Damon. I'm not able to come to the phone right now. Or I don't feel like it. You decide. Leave a message and I'll get back to you… Probably.—
beeeep.
"Damon. It's been three days… Please, pick up. At least tell me you're okay…" Elena sighed. "I know you're upset. I know you blame me. I blame me too, okay? I… I should've done something or stopped her or—I don't know, but I know she did this for me. I know I'm the reason she's gone and… And I know you cared about her. But you need to come home. Please."
…
Damon could feel a migraine sneaking up on him, and not one of the witchy variety. Just a very average migraine, brought on my circumstance. His eyes were itchy with exhaustion and his patience thin. Still, he attempted a somewhat civil tone.
"You're not helping me here, Benny. How hard could it be to track down one witch?" he asked, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Her name is Lucy. Lu-cy. Tall, beautiful, used to tag around with Katherine Pierce. What more do you need? Look, she's a Bennett witch. You're telling me you can't find a witch from one of the most well-known families?"
"I heard you the first three times you explained it to me," Benny muttered. "Look, she's not with who she was before. She was easy to track then; she was slumming it with a coven in Lafayette. But with the Mikaelsons causing waves all over Louisiana, most of the witches out there have scattered. Only the crazy ones are eager to lay their neck down on that chopping block. Lucy's in the wind, which makes her harder to track down."
"She's a witch; call around to Witches R' Us or something. Better, call in that little warlock you were hooking up with. He can track her down, can't he?"
"Do you have something of hers for a locator spell? You got a vial of her blood handy?" he scoffed.
Damon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, I carry it with me always."
"Well, then you can see the roadblocks I'm hitting… Look, last time I shook the grapevine, there were whispers that a Bennett was hanging out somewhere near Augusta. That was old news, by a week, maybe two, so she could've moved on already. But maybe start driving in that direction, and when I hear more, I'll let you know."
Damon leaned back in his seat and glared out at the highway in front of him; dust and gravel kicked up by the semi-trucks whipping past him. "Drive toward Georgia and hope for the best, that's your advice?"
"You asked me to find your witch."
"A witch. She's not mine. She's just related to my witch. There's a distinction," he corrected irritably.
"Whatever," Benny dismissed. "You wanted my help and I'm doing what I can. She keeps under the radar; she's smart. It's probably why she and Katherine got along."
"Yeah, great, good for her. I'll let her you know you admire her Carmen Sandiego act, just as soon as you find her for me. And Benny…? Hurry up."
He hung up and tossed his phone to the passenger seat before taking a moment to let the information, or lack thereof, resonate. And then he slapped his hand down on the steering wheel, agitation making his body tense up.
"It's not going to work." A voice piped up from beside him.
Damon shook his head. "You don't know that."
"What make you think that even if you find her, she'll be willing to help? Haven't your burned one too many bridges in the witch community?"
"Then I'll burn a few more," he gritted out. Turning, he stared at her; a red plaid shirt tied around her waist, cut off jean shorts, and a loose-fitting top that screamed 90's fashion. "And she'll help. She has to."
She put her feet up on his dash, crossed at the ankles; he stared at the laces of her boots dangling loose. "Damon, you of all people know just how stubborn a Bennett witch can be."
He swallowed thickly. "Yeah. It's an annoying little habit of theirs."
"Is that what I am? Annoying?"
"You? You're the most annoying. If I had to rank every person I've ever met in my entire life, there you'd be, the reigning queen." His mouth ticked up at the corner. "Bonnie Bennett. Annoyingest Witch Ever."
"'Annoyingest' isn't even a word," she told him, exasperated.
"See? Annoying."
"If I'm so annoying, why are you trying to resurrect me? Hm?"
His smile slipped then and he leaned back in his seat, head falling to the rest. "Because. I do stupid things sometimes… Like let you get killed in the first place."
She was quiet for a long moment, nothing but the whoosh of cars speeding by outside the window to fill his ears. A few minute passed before she said, "You haven't eaten in a while. That's probably why you keep dreaming me up."
"Four, five days, that's nothing. I've starved longer." He smirked. "One of the highlights of the Augustine experiments; they like to test for things like that."
"Did you hallucinate then too?" she wondered.
He stared out the window, his brow furrowed. "Sometimes. About Stefan mostly. Every once in a while Katherine would pop up. Even Lexi. Some grand escape plan in mind… But mostly, I was in the backyard of my childhood home tossing a football around with my little brother."
She hummed quietly. "You must miss her… Me…"
("Defying all possible global scenarios, I might miss you a little bit.")
He ground his teeth before forcing himself to shake it off. "Good thing is, it's temporary. Find Lucy, resurrect you, and voila, things can get back on track."
"You really think it's that easy?"
"Sure. Why not? Something in my life should be," he muttered with false bravado.
"She's going to hate you, you know," she reminded simply.
Damon grimaced, staring down at the steering wheel a long moment. "Yeah," he murmured. "I know."
He reached forward then and signalled to get back on the road.
Destination: Georgia.
…
—You've reached Damon. I'm not able to come to the phone right now. Or I don't feel like it. You decide. Leave a message and I'll get back to you… Probably.—
beeeep.
"Hey. It's me. Look… Me and Caroline, we switched it back on. I… I owe you an apology. A few, probably. But I don't want to do that through your voicemail, so, will you just… come home? Or call me back, at least. Let me know you're okay?" A pause followed, as if he expected him to pick up right then. "All right, well, you know where I am."
…
"What about that one?" Bonnie suggested, sitting on the edge of the table, her legs swinging.
Damon looked up, and tracked the busty red-head making her way toward the bathroom, hips swaying. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her heartbeat above all the rest, a steady thud. He bet she tasted delicious. His mouth watered at the mere thought. He could already feel the veins spidering out from under his eyes and his teeth itching beneath his gums. But he blinked it away, scowling, and turned back to the drink in front of him, fingers curled into his palm.
"Not my type," he muttered.
She scoffed, hopping down and swinging around to sit across from him in his otherwise empty booth. She rested her chin on her palm and stared at him searchingly, her head tipped as she took stock of him. "Everyone's your type. Blood is blood, Damon. And you haven't had any in, oh… Seven days."
"Who's counting?" He knocked back his drink and then topped it off with the bottle, his phone sitting on the table as he waited for Benny to call. Augusta was a bust, but there was a chance Lucy was still somewhere in Georgia, so he was… lingering.
"I am." Bonnie shook her head. "You can't keep this up."
"Sure I can." His eyes flashed wide in emphasis. "I won't start desiccating for a few more weeks, at least."
"What happens if you need to do something, help someone, you'll be too strung out and weak to do anything."
He snorted, shaking his head. "Who the hell am I going to help? If you haven't noticed, I've got one thing on my mind. Everyone else is expendable."
"And Lucy? What if you get hungry when you find her? Or what if when you bring her back to Mystic Falls, your mother and her vitches attack Lucy? I mean, I don't want to bring you down any more than you already are, but if you lose Lucy you're officially 0 for 2 on the Bennett witch front, which means your plan is completely blown."
"A) We already agreed on witchpire. And B) if you're so worried, I'll raid a hospital before I do a little meet and greet with cousin dearest. Happy?"
"I'd be happier if you drank less." Her nose wrinkled. "You're starting to smell."
"You're a figment of my imagination," he reminded her, rolling his eyes. "You can't smell anything."
"Yeah, well, then your imagination is aware you stink and is trying to tell you take a shower."
"Duly noted." He poured himself another glass and raised it to her in mocking cheers.
("You're disgusting."
"I know.")
…
—You've reached Damon. I'm not able to come to the phone right now. Or I don't feel like it. You decide. Leave a message and I'll get back to you… Probably.—
beeeep.
"I don't know where you are, and I really don't care," Caroline snapped. "But my best friend is dead, again, and you're the only person who ever changes that. So you need to call me. At least tell me you're doing something to fix this. I can't… I just lost my mom, Damon. I can't lose Bonnie too. I just got her back! So please, tell me you're going to bring her back. I need her back!"
…
Damon stared at the ceiling of his motel room, his arms tucked behind his head. He counted the cracks and the water damaged spots, again and again, until he was cross eyed.
"What's your favorite memory?" she asked, lying beside him, mimicking his position.
"You already know that one. I told you in the prison world," he replied.
She rolled over onto her stomach. "Tell me again."
He frowned, squinting his eyes a moment. They'd talked in front of the fire; Bonnie liked to make pillow beds on the floor, said they were cozy. She would curl up there most nights to read her books. He couldn't count how many times he'd have to carry her up to her bedroom after she'd fallen asleep. When she was feeling particularly chatty, she would invite him to share her space and coax him into talking. The night she asked him about his favorite memory, they were both a little tipsy, and he remembered how pretty she'd looked, with the fire flicking around her face.
"When I was human, I used to think it was the first time my father ever shared his bourbon with me… He poured me a glass and told me that I was a man now, and real men drank… I choked on the first sip, coughed so hard my lungs hurt." His lips curled at the memory. "But I drank every drop, just to prove I could. And he clapped me on the shoulder, like he was proud… All I ever wanted back then was to make that man proud. Make him treat me like I was worth his attention."
Frowning, he shook his head. "When I got older, and I realized how much of an ass he was, it changed. First to an afternoon I spent with my mother where all she did was read to me and stroke my hair. Then to the first time I saw Katherine. But if I really had to pick something, it was probably the first time Stefan said my name. I was ten years old, and he was still tiny, drooled on everything, but mother insisted he would become my most treasured companion… I thought she was exaggerating at the time, but, as it turns out… she wasn't so wrong."
Bonnie was quiet a moment, just like she had been that night. But instead of offering him a top off on his drink like she had in the prison world, this time she said, "You should call him. He's probably really worried."
He turned his eyes toward her and tipped over to lay on his side, peering at her. Some of her hair had fallen to her cheek and his fingers itched to reach out and tuck it away behind her ear. He curled them into his palm instead; if he touched her, he'd remember she wasn't real. "What's your favorite memory?" he asked.
"You already know it. I told you in the prison world," she mocked.
"Tell me again."
She smiled. "Or you could tell me."
He hummed, and cast his eyes away briefly.
"Don't tell me, you forgot."
He shook his head faintly. "You were six years old, and you tripped in the driveway, scraped your palms up pretty good. You were crying on the stairs because you got it in your head that your dad would find out and leave you. Like your mom did. You thought…" He clenched his jaw. "You thought he wouldn't want you if you weren't perfect."
She watched him silently, her gaze bouncing around his face.
"Your dad came outside and found you like that, trying to hide your hands in the skirt of your dress. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened, so he took you inside and sat you on the kitchen counter. He cleaned your hands up and he kissed them both and he told you that no matter how many times you fell, he would always be there to pick you up." He swallowed tightly then, blinking roughly. "You still loved him, even though he worked too much and he missed a lot of those spills. But that's you… holding out hope for people who don't deserve it."
"Maybe they don't," she agreed quietly. "But maybe they need it."
He hummed, but said nothing, turning his eyes toward her, lying there, so close but so far. He fell asleep counting how many times he let her down.
("It means there's hope for you.")
…
—You've reached Damon. I'm not able to come to the phone right now. Or I don't feel like it. You decide. Leave a message and I'll get back to you… Probably.—
beeeep.
"You know, I'm a little disappointed… I expected when me and Mummy Dearest came back, you'd be the first one there to greet us," Enzo teased. "But I hear you went on a little sabbatical of some kind. Can't blame you. I know Bonnie was a special breed…" He chuckled lowly. "She was brave, if you're wondering. Such a plucky little witch… And delicious. Did I mention that? I got a little taste before she went…" He smacked his lips obnoxiously. "'Til next time, brother."
…
"I'm sorry. I thought she was there! I… It was a bad lead. But it's not over yet. I have a more people I can talk to. Just give me some time to—"
Damon hung the phone up abruptly, and let it fall from his hand, bouncing on the mattress of his hotel bed. He sat the edge of it, elbows on his knees, staring at a dent in the wall, the paint just a shade darker there then everywhere else. The blinking Motel sign outside beamed through the closed curtains, giving the room a red glow, and then green, and back to red. He rubbed his hands over his face, his skin feeling paper thin and his dry and itchy.
"How many is that?" she wondered, seated at the head of the bed. "Four, maybe five false Lucy sightings… Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think you might be chasing your forked tail on this one."
He scoffed, dropping his hands from his face to hang listlessly between his legs. "So that's it, huh? Hang up the cape and walk away? That's your big advice."
She reappeared in front of him then, kneeling at his feet, and she peered up at his face a long moment, her eyes searching him over. Her hand reached up, fingers outstretched, and gently glided down the side of his face. He couldn't feel a thing; a bitter reminder that she wasn't really there. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the burn of anger and resentment and guilt build up in his chest.
"Sometimes you just have to cut your losses," she murmured. "Maybe it's time to stop fighting and start grieving. It's okay to let go, Damon. It's okay to accept that sometimes… we just can't fix what we've broken."
He shook his head, his breath leaving him in a shuddering noise. "No. No." His eyes shot open to glare down at her. "I don't get to walk away from this. I haven't earned that yet. And you—You're not her. Because she would tell me to keep going, keep fighting. She would tell me to do something."
She offered him a serene smile. "Haven't you? You tried, didn't you? You looked for Lucy, you made a plan, you did your best… Isn't that all she could ask for?"
He swallowed thickly. "I should've saved her. I should've stopped her."
"It's too late for that now." She reached up, covering his hands in hers. "Damon… You're not the hero. You're the monster." A giggle left her then, and she shook her head. "You were just living up to your image."
He snarled down at her, his teeth bared. "Stop it."
"Don't you remember…? 'If it comes down to you and the witch again, I will gladly let Bonnie die.' You said that." She grinned then. "This was always going to happen. You had to know!"
"It was different then," he gritted out, his eyes burning. "I was different then."
She tipped her head curiously. "Are you sure?"
His eyes darkened, veins spidering across his cheeks. "I fucked up, I know that, but I won't make that mistake again."
"Maybe. But for that to happen, you'd need another chance, and… last I checked, you were out of those."
Shaking his head, he stood up. "Someone here saw Lucy… And if she's anything like her cousin, she never shuts up, which means she could've let it slip to someone where she was headed to next." He smirked then, all teeth. "And I'm going to find out."
He walked to the door of his motel room and yanked it open. Bonnie stood in front of him, leaned back against the rail, arms crossed over her chest. She smiled. "Careful, Damon… I might start to think you actually care."
He stared at her a heavy moment, before managing, "Wouldn't want that."
Making is way down to his car, he climbed in, unsurprised to find the image of Bonnie already waiting for him there. "Ready?"
She nodded back at him.
They had a witch to find.
…
—You've reached Damon. I'm not able to come to the phone right now. Or I don't feel like it. You decide. Leave a message and I'll get back to you… Probably.—
beeeep.
"Damon, please, just answer your phone," Elena begged. "Do something. Text me! Call me back! A smoke signal would work, just… I'm freaking out over here. I need to know you're okay. Stefan hasn't heard from you, and he— He's worried. Look, your mother… She's back. Her and Enzo and those… things. They're all over the place and they're killing people faster than we can hide the bodies. And I— I don't know what to do, okay? I'm scared and worried and… I miss you. I know you're upset with me, and I'm sorry. I am! I'm sorry that Bonnie's dead. I'm sorry I'm the reason she's gone. I'm sorry I'm always the reason. I… I'm just sorry," she cried. "Please come home. Please."
…
The banging coming from the trunk was more than a little annoying. Damon turned the radio up to drown it out.
"She doesn't sound too happy," imaginary!Bonnie mused, sitting in the passenger seat beside him.
"She doesn't need to be happy. She just needs to do what I tell her to," he answered, shrugging.
Bonnie eyed him skeptically. "Are you usually accommodating to the people that stuff you into trunks?"
He pursed his lips at her. "We were on a strict time schedule. I didn't have time to explain it to her."
"That tape won't last forever. As soon as she gets it off, she'll spell that trunk open and then focus all of her anger on you."
Sighing, he lowered the music and glared at her. "Shouldn't you be on my side?"
"All I'm saying is that if Bonnie could see this, she'd be pissed. You kidnapped her cousin and stuffed her in a trunk, Damon."
He rolled his eyes. "There's plenty of room back there."
Shaking her head, Bonnie clucked her tongue and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What? So now you're going to give me the silent treatment?" He scoffed. "Typical."
She continued to stare out the front window, while he glowered at her irritably. "You know, I dreamed you into existence, shouldn't you do what I want?"
Turning to look at him she raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever thought about why you imagined me?"
He shrugged. "I thought that was pretty obvious. I'm terrible at grieving; my coping mechanisms are shit. But, since I'm not falling back on killing everybody in sight, I needed a little Jiminy Cricket around to remind me what I needed to do. Trust me, if this fails, you'll be long gone, and I'll be standing on top of a pile of bodies." He smirked at her, flashing his teeth.
Unperturbed, she merely stared at him. "You know, maybe this is different for a reason… Maybe the reason you're not killing people is because you don't want to kill people. Maybe, in some weird way, this is you showing signs of actually maturing."
He frowned at her, skeptically.
"Look, whatever happened in that prison world, it changed you. Not completely, because you're still you. But parts of you changed. They… grew. And that's what you wanted. That's what you told her. That you hoped you weren't the same person who made all the same bad choices. And now, here we are, and you're being tested again… She's gone, Damon. She's dead. But instead of losing yourself to that pain, instead of destroying everything and everyone, you put that energy into getting her back. Which is… it's good, I guess."
"You guess?"
"It's growth… Until it isn't."
He ground his teeth. "Explain."
"I know you don't want to think about it, but there's a reason Lucy is in the trunk. And it has everything to do with the fact that if you open that trunk and you tell her what happened, there's a very real chance she's going to tell you there's nothing you can do to change it."
He turned his eyes forward, staring out at the road, his brow knotted tightly.
"For the last thirteen days, you've done nothing but chase a hope and a dream with a ghost. And as much as you wanted to find Lucy, you also know that she's the only one who can tell you that there is no hope left."
His chin quivered, but he clenched his jaw to make it stop.
"Damon."
"What?"
"You know how she felt about you. I know you do. She wanted better for you, she believed in you, and she… She lo—"
"Don't," he interrupted, turning red-rimmed eyes in her direction. "Just don't."
Imaginary-Bonnie offered him a soft, sympathetic smile, and he had to look away, his heart twisting up in his chest. "You won't know until you open the trunk," she said quietly. "Until then… you've got me."
"So that's it, huh? I open the trunk and you just… go away."
"For now." She turned in her seat, eyeing him thoughtfully. "I have a feeling I'll be back if the answer isn't what you want."
He snorted. "What, so you can judge me while I'm tearing out throats and leaving bodies in my wake? Just what I need, a judgy witch on my tail."
"I think you'll miss me when I'm gone… I think you miss her more than you ever thought you could miss someone."
Damon swallowed tightly, and reached down to hit his turning signal, pulling his car over to the side of the road. He lingered there, the ticking of his signal still going, until he reached for it to turn it off. He looked over at her, curled up in the passenger seat wearing that same plaid shirt around her waist. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad… You coming around sometimes. If I… I can't get her back…"
Leaning forward, she reached for him, her hand hovering near his cheek. "I'm not so easy to get rid of."
He nodded jerkily, and then he reached for the door and pushed it open. He cleared his throat and readjusted his jacket as he walked around to the trunk. She was kicking her feet up against the trunk; a constant thumping. He stuck his key in the lock and turned it, letting the trunk pop open so he could stare down at the angry, glaring eyes of Lucy Bennett.
She was trying to speak from under the tape; he'd put money down it was a promise to make him pay.
"All right, so sticking you in the trunk was a bad move," he admitted.
Her eyebrows hiked in a 'you think!?' fashion, but he merely shrugged a shoulder.
"Look, I'll make it simple…" He licked his lips and shuffled his feet before he managed to tell her, "Bonnie is dead."
Lucy went still, staring up at him searchingly.
"She was killed by a vampire and yanked over to a 1903 prison world. You know about those? Sheila had a hand in making them; they're locked up tight with Bennett blood and magic…"
She nodded slowly.
He stared at her seriously. "I need your help… I need to get Bonnie back. Not just from 1903… I want to resurrect her. And I want you to hear me when I say this… I'm getting her back, by any means necessary."
Lucy blinked, her eyes falling as she seemed to think it over, and then she looked back up at him, that infamously stubborn look that seemingly all Bennetts mastered at birth. She gave him a short, severe nod, and he reached down to peel the tape from her lips.
He should've expected the aneurysm; truth be told, it made him laugh a little as he stumbled backwards, clutching his head. It wasn't quite as potent as one of Bonnie's, but it was close enough.
"That's for shoving me in a damn trunk," she shouted, sitting up. "Now get over here and untie me. We have work to do."
Breathing through the pain still ricocheting through him, he walked forward, reaching for the rope bound around her wrists. "So you think we can do it then? We can bring her back?"
She stared up at him, her mouth set in a firm line. "We can sure as hell try."
He half-smiled, stepping back as she climbed from the trunk and stretched her arms out. Closing the trunk, he paused, staring through the back window at the now empty passenger seat. Imaginary-Bonnie had fizzled away; as much as he'd miss her constant chatter, he hoped that, soon enough, he'd have the real thing.
("I'm not going to make it… but you are.")
…
—You've reached Damon. I'm not able to come to the phone right now. Or I don't feel like it. You decide. Leave a message and I'll get back to you… Probably.—
beeeep.
"You need to come back," Stefan demanded. "Damon, I'm not kidding. I don't care if you're spiraling. I don't care if you're fangs-deep in someone and you've left a string of bodies in your wake. I don't care. But you need to come back here, because this… Part of this is your fault, and you need to clean it up! I can't do this on my own, all right? Are you happy? I need your help, Damon. So just… come back."
…
When Damon crossed the border back into Mystic Falls, he had an irritated witch in the passenger seat. Sure, she was on board with getting Bonnie back, but that didn't make her any more forgiving for the whole trunk debacle. Apparently negotiating with Lucy went over a lot better than kidnapping her. Who knew? Regardless, she was still up for helping him, and that was all that mattered. Imaginary-Bonnie hadn't popped up since Lucy had taken up position in the passenger seat, but every once in a while, he'd look in the rear view mirror and swear he caught a glimpse of her. Clearly, he needed to feed. And he would, just as soon as he got to the boarding house and his plan was well underway. Nothing was going to get in his way now.
That's what he thought at least, until he drove through town square and found half the buildings on fire.
Lucy turned to him, her expression sharp. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded.
His mouth curled with disdain. "Witchpires." He shrugged. "Not our problem."
"Not our…" Her eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling me, Damon?"
He glared at her. "The only thing you need to worry about is getting me into that 1903 prison world so we can get Bonnie. After that, you work your little Bennett mojo to bring her back to life. Then you're free and clear to leave and never come back. That was the deal, remember?"
She stared at him searchingly. "You never said what happened. Why they killed her."
"They need a reason now?" he scoffed. "She was an enemy. If they brought her back, she could've put them down. So they took her out before she could. Sounds pretty cut and dry to me."
Shaking her head, she said, "Nothing with you ever is."
"Right. Because you know me so well." He bared his teeth at her in a mocking grin. "We've been on the road all of a day, sweetheart. Trust me, you don't know anything."
"I know you're letting your home burn around you to get my little cousin back. I know something happened, something changed, if the only thing you're worried about is Bonnie. So spill. Or I'm not taking you anywhere." Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow at him.
Damon gnashed his teeth and continued down Main Street, watching uninterestedly as the sign on a florist's shop crashed to the ground, charred and smoking. The street lamps were mostly blown out, but fire lit the way easily. People were running, racing up and down the sidewalks, screaming and crying from some, yet unseen, enemy.
"You want a sob story, or you want your cousin?" He pressed down on the gas and took off toward the boarding house, dodging scared humans as he went. He couldn't care less who his mother's witchpires ate or who had to die; he had one mission, everything else was just collateral damage.
Lucy set her lips in a dark frown, but she turned her eyes out the window and said nothing, flinching as a man ran down the street, his clothes on fire. "It's chaos out there."
"It's hell," he said, something distant about his tone.
She looked back at him, but Damon kept his eyes on the road.
Nothing more was said until they reached the boarding house. Damon climbed from the car, shaking his legs out before he walked to the front door, Lucy behind him, her eyes darting around cautiously, expecting someone to jump out and attack at any moment.
"You remember the spell?"
"You had me recite it to you for most of the drive here," she huffed. "Yeah, I remember the spell."
He offered an empty smile in reply. "Just checking all the boxes, Morgana."
Rolling her eyes at him, she hauled her bag off her shoulder and dug around inside. "We still need a celestial event."
"We'll have one. Tonight. Meteor shower."
"You weren't kidding. You really thought of everything." She followed him into the living room as he walked toward the drink cart. "So? We've got a lot of time to burn..."
"Which you can spend making sure you know that spell back and front," he said, before offering her a glass of bourbon.
Lucy took it and crossed to a couch, taking a seat and balancing her drink on her knee. "We haven't talked about what happens after we bring her body back… Resurrection isn't exactly easy."
"If it were easy, I wouldn't need a Bennett." He knocked back his whole drink before refilling his glass. "We get her back, you trade some miserable human's life for hers, and voila, balance is kept and Bonnie's safe. Done."
She watched him carefully. "And if she refuses?"
He paused, turning his head to look at her. "What?"
"Bonnie's a witch. I'll have to commune with her spirit before I make any kind of trade. She can reject it and, well, we both know she won't let someone else die for her…"
"So go over her head," he ordered, fiercely. "Tell her you found another way. Lie if you have to. Just make sure she comes back."
"It's not that simple."
"Make it that simple!" he shouted, slamming his glass down on the cart hard enough that it shattered. He let out a huff of a breath and looked down, staring at his hand, where blood had collected in his palm. He let out a choked noise and blinked hard, swallowing thickly.
Lucy stared at him, the stricken look on his face, and she sighed as all the pieces finally slotted together on the puzzle. "You love her."
He whirled his head to look at her, his brow furrowed. "What?" he snapped, before pulling his shirt up from the waist of his jeans and wrapping his has hand in the fabric.
"I was trying to figure it out before, how it tied in with the doppelganger. But it's not about her, is it…? You want Bonnie back because you love her."
Damon looked away, focusing his eyes on the fire. "The meteor shower starts in four hours. Be ready." He turned on his heel then and walked out of the room, climbing the stairs two at a time. He walked down the hall to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Leaning back against it, he closed his eyes, fingers digging sharply into his palms.
("I realize that I might not be able to explain what I feel for her, but it is something. And yeah, maybe not all love is 'true love' in the messed up way that you and I have experienced it, but I think that this could turn into something even better.")
Damon pushed off the door and crossed toward his shower, pulling off his clothes and letting them fall to the floor as he went. He turned the water on as hot as it would go and climbed under the spray. His breathing was picking up and his lungs were burning, panic threading through him. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes against the water, pressing his hands to the tile wall.
Steam rose up and clouded the room; he scrubbed his fingers through his hair and pressed them against his eyes when they began to burn.
Four hours. He just needed four more hours and then he'd have her. She'd be home.
He could wait that long.
For two weeks, he'd barely slept or ate, only stocking up when he thought he might have a lead on Lucy, drinking to curb the worst of his hunger pains. Some part of him didn't think he deserved it, didn't think he should be allowed to indulge in blood when it was his fault that Bonnie was gone. Tracking down Lucy gave him a purpose, and imaginary-Bonnie had managed to keep him from teetering off the edge. But it was okay now; he had Lucy and his plan could finally get some traction. If it wasn't one Bennett, it was another. It seemed the only time he ever got anything done, he had a witch in his corner.
When he finally climbed out of the shower, his skin was an angry red, irritated from the water, but as he wiped the fog away from the mirror, he could already see it fade away, healed in the blink of an eye. Bonnie hadn't been so lucky. He imagined she laid in that snow, blood collecting all around her, slowly choking, gasping for air, struggling to live, while they watched on, unmoved by her pain. On the rare occasions he'd managed any sleep, that was what he dreamt of; haunted by her sad, betrayed eyes, staring up at him, blaming him as life drained out of her.
As soon as she was back and ready, they'd kill every last one of them.
Starting with Enzo.
Damon left the bathroom and dressed quickly. Leaving Lucy alone for too long could prove problematic. Just because his mother and her witchpires seemed to be occupied in town didn't mean they would stay that way. And she was his only chance at getting Bonnie back.
He walked down the stairs, whistling, a little pep to his step as he realized that his endgame was finally in sight. She was going to be pissed at him, he knew. She would probably scream herself hoarse, and he would welcome it. Every defaming word, every insult, every aneurysm. He would welcome every last second of it, as long as she was alive.
He wasn't expecting to walk into the living room and find it filled with the Scooby Gang. He didn't know why, since they almost always holed up in his house to plan.
His whistling abruptly plummeted as he cast his eyes around the group, all of them looking like they'd gone toe to toe with a train and lost.
"Someone looks like they need a stiff drink," he said, making his way toward the cart.
"Damon," Elena breathed, taking a step forward. "You're back!"
"When'd you get here?" Stefan wondered, following his trek across the room with brooding eyes.
"Half hour, maybe forty-five minutes ago." He took another look around and frowned. "You see a tall Bennett witch lurking around anywhere?"
"Lucy's here?" Caroline asked, a hopeful note to her voice.
"Bingo. Got it in one. Who says blondes aren't smart?" Damon poured himself and his brother a bourbon, and handed it off to him before taking a seat on the arm of a couch. "So? Mother Dearest do this to you?"
Stefan's shirt was torn up, the arm frayed and burnt black. Dried blood smeared his neck and hands. "Her and her new little 'family' are tearing apart town square."
Damon hummed. "Yeah, I saw that on the way in."
"And you didn't help?" Caroline accused.
He raised an eyebrow. "What, you want me to pull over and start applying CPR?" He snorted. "What do I care if the town burns?"
"Damon, this is our home," Elena told him, staring at him searchingly, her expression hurt.
"Yeah, fully aware, thanks. Look, I'll deal with her and her little witchpire gang after."
"After what?"
"After we get Bonnie back from 1903," Lucy piped up, walking back into the room, her arms filled with a familiar grimoire.
Damon's mouth flattened into a line. "Where'd you get that?" He stood, reaching over to snatch it from her hands. "I had that hidden."
"Yeah? Well, you suck at it. All I needed was a simple locator spell." She frowned. "Why'd you have her grimoire anyway?"
"None of your business." He looked her up and down irritably. "You were supposed to be studying the spell, not playing 'Where's Waldo.'"
Lucy rolled her eyes. "I was. But if we're going to resurrect her, we're going to need a lot more than what I already know. Bonnie's the only person I know that's actually brought someone back to life. She also died doing it. I was hoping Sheila might have written about it in her grimoire, but I can't find anything…"
"She died because she traded her life for Jeremy's. You'll have someone else to sacrifice. Don't go changing anything that already works."
Hand on her hip, she pursed her lips at him. "And which spell did she use? Were you there for that?"
"You think I'd let her die so Baby Gilbert could come back?" he snarled. "I wasn't invited to that show. Just the clean-up after."
"Wait, wait, what is going on?" Elena asked, waving her hands. "Are you saying you can bring Bonnie back?"
"Ding, ding, ding. Someone give this one an award," Damon mocked.
Elena flinched. "Why are you acting like this?"
"Because I've had two weeks to think about every stupid thing I did, for you, and now that the casualty list is slapping me in the face, I'm regretting them."
Her brow furrowed. "I know that Bonnie's death hurt you, but I didn't force her to die for me…"
"No, you don't force her to do anything," he scoffed bitterly. "You just convinced her that her life doesn't matter as much. All of us convinced her that on the scale of what's important and what doesn't matter, she falls firmly on the side of 'die so someone else can live.'"
"I would never ask her to do that. I—I could barely breathe. If I could, I would've stopped her."
"But you didn't!" he shouted. "You didn't do anything. You just let her die, again."
Tipping her head, her face cleared. "This isn't about me. You're not mad at me."
"Aren't I?" he wondered, taking a step toward her. "Because it definitely feels like I am."
"You're lashing out, and I get that, but this isn't about me, Damon. It's about you."
His face twisted up, but no words left him.
"You're upset because you didn't stop her. I didn't remember it at first, but I heard her… I heard her tell you that she would die over there. They would kill her. And you didn't stop her, did you? You let her walk to them. You had a choice, and you picked me."
Damon swallowed tightly, and he shook his head, baring his teeth as he said, "I chose wrong."
Elena reared back. "You're upset."
"No, I'm finally seeing clearly," he bit out. "All those times I thought it'd be worth it… When I asked her to do it knowing she might die… Every time I picked you over her… I let her think she didn't matter. I let her die, Elena. I let her walk away, and I never should have. I should've grabbed her and taken her away. I should've left you there." He blinked back tears, shaking his head. "But I didn't. And now she's gone, and you're here, and you shouldn't be."
"Damon," she said quietly, reaching out for him.
"No," he told her. "You think this is just grief, that I'm upset because my friend is dead, and when I get her back, I'll apologize and wish I'd never hurt you. But you're wrong. I'm done picking you over her. I'm done picking any of you over her. She wanted just one person to care. She wanted me to care. And I failed her. The only chance I have at making this right is getting her back and then getting her the hell away from all of you. From this screwed up town where nothing ever goes right."
Elena blinked back tears. "We never meant to hurt her."
"No, you just didn't care enough to notice you were hurting her in the first place."
"That's not fair," Caroline whispered thickly. "If I'd known she was here, that she was hurting, I would've tried to be there for her."
"Oh, spare me the crocodile tears, Blondie. You were too wrapped up in your Stefan-drama to pay any attention to Bonnie."
"No, shut up," she ordered, marching forward. "You are not the only one who loves her, and you're not the only one who made mistakes and wants to take them back. So don't act like you're some superior voice in this fight, because you said it yourself. You let her die. You let her walk away." She poked his chest with her finger. "You had a chance to save her life and you didn't take it!"
Grabbing her wrist, he squeezed until she winced. "A mistake I won't make again."
Caroline yanked her arm free of him. "You make all the promises you want, but if you think bringing her back will wipe your slate clean, you're wrong. I made a mistake turning my humanity off, but I never let Bonnie think I didn't love her. Can you say the same?"
He snarled down at her, his eyes turning a bloody black.
Stefan intervened, stepping in between them, a hand against Damon's chest. "Okay. I think we all need to take a breath. It's been a long day…" He looked up at his brother, brows arched. "Caroline's upset. We all are. We've been fighting all day and this is already an emotional situation. I think everybody just needs to take a minute to calm down."
"Fine." Taking a step back, Damon turned to Lucy. "We have things to discuss anyway." He made his way to the hall then, Lucy just behind him.
"You're not the only one who misses her," Caroline called after him. "I loved her too."
Damon looked back at her, his mouth set in a faint frown.
Caroline was a mess; her hair in disarray, her clothes shredded and burned, bags under her eyes that came from a lack of sleep and not enough blood. And for the first time in two weeks, he found himself looking at someone that embodied exactly how he felt. She hugged her arms around her waist and shifted her feet, her eyes falling to the floor briefly. "Just get her back," she said, before turning and walking away.
Damon followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight, and then his gaze moved to his sullen brother, staring back at him. With a sigh, Stefan nodded, and left to find Caroline.
Elena was standing by the fire, watching him, her brow knit.
Damon offered nothing more, turning and making his way upstairs to his bedroom. A silent Lucy followed him in, accepting the grimoire when he passed it to her.
("She sacrificed everything for us, over and over again, and then we were supposed to be there for her... She's all alone.")
…
Damon was pacing, back and forth from one end of his bedroom to the other.
"That's annoying. Can you just sit down somewhere and stop fidgeting already?" Lucy sighed, exasperated.
He ignored her. The closer they got to the meteor shower, the more anxious he felt. What if it didn't work? What if they went over there and they couldn't find the body? What if they buried her? Or worse. His stomach twisted at the idea. Rippers were notorious for playing with the bodies afterwards; Stefan had always staged his victims. What if he got over there and Bonnie's head was— He closed his eyes and gave his head a shake, the image far too real for him to handle.
"Have you slept?"
He paused, looking over at Lucy with a frown. "What?"
"Have. You. Slept?" She looked him over, her lips pursed. "You look like roadkill."
"I showered an hour ago," he defended.
"Doesn't change the fact that you look like you haven't slept or eaten. No wonder you're biting everyone's heads off."
"What are you, the defender of the 'Bonnie Who' squad?"
Sighing, she said, "Clearly there's some animosity going on there, but I don't think they're as bad as you're making them out to be."
"You don't know them."
"I barely know you," she agreed. "But Bonnie obviously loved them and trusted them, which means there must be something redeeming about that little rag-tag group."
"Yeah, she grew up with them," he scoffed. "She's sentimental like that."
"The blonde one, Caroline, she cared."
Damon gritted his teeth. "Look, I don't feel like playing 'which of Bonnie's shitty friends is least shitty' with you. So let's just focus on the endgame."
"Was she right?"
"Was who right?"
"Did you have a chance to save her and pick the doppelganger instead?"
Damon's stomach plummeted. "Who are you? Dr. Phil?" he accused defensively.
"Is this all just an attempt at redeeming yourself?" she wondered unperturbed by his irritation.
"Enough with the questions already," he growled.
"Do you think she will? Forgive you, I mean."
He went still, standing stiffly by the window, staring up at the clear night sky. "She shouldn't."
A knock at the door drew their attention then and he turned, frowning. "What?" he asked loudly.
"It's me," Elena said, the sound of her shuffling feet and fiddling fingers reaching him. "Can I come in?"
He rolled his eyes, turning to face the window again.
The door opened, as if she'd heard the 'whatever' he hadn't spoken. She stepped into the room closing the door behind her and hesitated.
"Did you need something?" he asked, his voice cutting.
She swallowed, and he could see her raise her chin in the reflection of the window. "I want to come with you."
He blinked. "No."
"Damon. She's my best friend."
"She's Blondie's best friend too, and the answer's the same for her."
Standing a little taller, she balled her hands up into fists. "You can't keep her to yourself. We want her back just as much as y—"
"Save it," he interrupted. "Lucy's only got so much juice, and I'm not wasting it dragging anyone else along. This is a two-person rescue mission. No tag-alongs. You'd only get in the way."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it? The last time I let you come along, Bonnie got left behind while you played tourist, visiting your old house."
"You think I wanted to leave her behind?" she yelled. "She was on her way!"
"And we should've gone to meet her."
"Why are you blaming me?" she cried.
"Because everything comes back to you! Everyone picks you. Everyone wants you. And by the time we figure out we've made the wrong choice it's too late."
"So that's it, I'm just the wrong choice?" She shook her head, her eyes bright with tears. "When did Bonnie, or anyone, become more important to you than me? I thought you loved me."
He stared at her a moment, his eyes tired and his chest hollow. "I did. And some part of me probably still does. But loving you means hurting other people, people that don't deserve it, and I won't do it anymore."
"That's not fair."
"Life's not fair," he sneered. "Learn it and grow up."
Wiping at her cheeks, she shook her head. "I know that you're just grieving and lashing out and when you get your head together, you're going to wish you hadn't said these things"
"Stop forgiving me. Stop trying to see something in me that isn't there. Stop expecting me to be someone I'm not," he told her. "How many ways do I have to spell it out for you?"
"So this is it? You're just going to break up with me and walk away?"
"No, I'm going to break up with you and then I'm going to go get Bonnie back. And then I'm going to walk away, dragging her sacrificial ass with me."
Elena shook her head, her hair swaying at her shoulders. "She won't go with you. She won't abandon us."
"Why not? You've done it to her enough times, she's probably due for a little rebellion."
"Damon, please, think about this…" She stared at him searchingly. "I told you I'm sorry. I didn't want Bonnie to die. I—"
"You just wanted to live, and you expected her to do what she always does."
She gaped at him, stunned.
"Tell me, if it really came down to it, between you and her, how long do you think you'd last before you just shoved her into the line of fire…?"
She glared up at him. "Screw you."
"I vividly remember you already doing that."
Jaw ticking and teeth gritted, she shook her head. "Fine. Don't bring me, don't forgive me. Just bring her home. That's all that really matters."
"For once we're on the same page."
She stared at him a moment longer before turning on her heel and marching out of his room, slamming the door behind her.
The silence lasted for all of thirty seconds and then Lucy said, "Well, that was awkward."
"Recite the spell again," he told her.
Lucy sighed, but listened, letting the words coil around her tongue easily.
Damon turned back to the window and felt his heart lurch as what appeared to be a meteor streaked across the sky. It wouldn't be long now.
("I'm doing this for Bonnie, Elena. Not for you.")
…
"It's time," Lucy declared, standing from her seat, a knife in one hand and the ascendant in the other.
Damon turned to look at her, swallowed back the last of his fears, and followed her out the door. They waked downstairs in tense silence, making their way to the living room, where Bonnie's blood still stained the floor in front of the fireplace. Damon moved to the window throwing the curtains open and letting in the glow of the meteor-lit sky.
As he walked back toward Lucy, he could feel the others crowding into the room, keeping their distance. He glanced over at them, pausing on Stefan's grim expression, and then he turned back to Lucy. He tucked his hand in under hers as she raised the ascendant up, and took the knife she offered, her palm left raised and waiting. He dragged the sharp steel over her skin, watching blood pearl up. She turned her hand over and squeezed her fingers in close, letting blood dribble down onto the ascendant.
Her lips parted as she began to chant, her voice deep and concentrated. Nerves made his knee jump as he waited for things to take hold.
But just as he swore he could feel magic beginning to coil around his body, the front door burst off its hinges. Lily Salvatore swept into the room, veins crawling eagerly beneath her eyes. Behind her, her witchpires stood together, their eyes black and their clothes soaked through with blood.
"Get the ascendant," Lily ordered. "Destroy it."
Damon snarled at his mother before holding onto Lucy's hand a little tighter. "Keep going."
Lucy glanced at them briefly before beginning the spell again.
The witchpires attacked, and he dug his heels in, waiting for impact.
Stefan intervened with the first one, slamming into the man from the side and taking him to the floor. Caroline grabbed another by the neck, but was soon screaming and grabbing her head as she writhed in agony. The rest of the Scooby gang, vampire and human-alike, ran forward to fight.
Lily stood, untouched and unafraid, in the center of the chaos. She walked forward, staring at Damon with an eerie smile. "My sweet boy, you didn't truly think it would be so easy, did you?"
"I'm coming for you," he snarled, his teeth flashing and his eyes swimming red. "And you'll regret you ever put one finger on her."
"Is this about your little witch?" she scoffed, her laugh musical and dismissive. "I gave you a choice, did I not? I deserve credit for that at least."
"You don't get credit for what you don't finish," an unexpected voice interrupted.
The room stilled suddenly, and everyone turned in tandem to see the new player.
Damon's brow furrowed as he set eyes on her, his mouth agape. Voice hoarse, he choked out, "Bonnie?"
("The one and only.")
[to be continued: part three.]
author's note: wow, I really ripped into Elena. :/ So, for the record this wasn't supposed to be solely on Elena, and even Damon recognizes that it's not just her, it's everyone not putting in the effort to help Bonnie, instead acting like Bonnie is disposable. Elena makes a lot of claims that she wouldn't force Bonnie to sacrifice herself, and she's right (technically), but they don't pull Bonnie back from the edge either, or their efforts are half-assed because they either think it's necessary or choose to believe she's strong enough to get through it. so this is a wake-up call, not just for them, but for Damon too, because he does acknowledge that he's made a lot of mistakes with her. he lashes out at elena in part because he does blame her, but also because she embodies his own weakness in choosing her and losing himself in the consuming love they have for each other. so for him, this is him breaking away from that toxic cycle just as much as it's him trying to save bonnie.
this chapter was originally so much shorter, but i really wanted to examine damon's headspace more, so it doubled in size. two more chapters to go after this, i hope you're excited! :)
thank you all so much for reading and for your lovely comments! Please try to leave a review; they're my lifeblood.
- lee | fina