Note: this chapter is dedicated to irishcookie. The song I used is "Careful hands" by Sleeping at Last.
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Bonnie raises her head at the sound of the knock.
Stefan is leaning against the doorpost with his left shoulder, the knuckles of his right hand still against the wood. He looks at her with bitter serenity. She does not like to think he's seeing himself in her because, whatever it is they think they know about her, she doesn't have a problem.
"Good morning," he says, before walking into the room to sit on a stool. He spent the previous day and night at Elena's place, because she can't still control herself and, without a protection ring, she can't leave the house and see anyone during daylight hours.
"Are you never going to speak to me again?" he says when she keeps on sipping her coffee without answering or even looking at him.
"I don't know," she says. "Are you going to pretend you and your brother didn't trap me here?"
"To be exact it was Damon's doing, but I agree with the result," he says calmly. "I know you can't see it now, but we're doing this for your own good."
"It would really be a first, because you never did a damn thing for me," she bites, before she can even realize what she's saying.
"You're… probably right," he admits, nodding. "I'm trying to be as good a friend as you are for me, I just don't want it to be too late," he adds. And she looks his way for the first time.
"Is there anything you need right now?" he asks.
"You mean, aside from my powers and my freedom back?" she asks sarcastically, while her tense body relaxes slightly.
"I'll take that as a no," he says with a smile.
#
"How are the Dark Princess' mood swings going?" Damon asks when he sees Stefan entering the room.
"Are we talking about Elena?"
"Of course we are. I know exactly how Bonnie's mood is going. Which, for the record, is very bad."
"Elena is doing well," he says, but Damon knows that Stefan's idea of 'doing well' is pretty different from his, because he lacks his little brother's patience and disposition. Still, he does not push for a more articulate answer, because it's not like he can do much for Elena right now, other than help out her friend. Moreover, if she needs him she only has to say the words and he'll be at her side, she knows that.
"How bad is very bad?" Stefan asks.
"You saw for yourself. She's pissed."
"I think all considered she's being civil enough."
"Okay then. Let me rephrase: she's pissed at me."
Stefan finds it funny, even reassuring. Bonnie and Damon could never agree on anything; they never even agreed to disagree so it's kind of comforting to note that this has not changed.
He stays around for a couple of hours; he watches Bonnie walking around the house, speaking to them only when strictly necessary, which means that she only says get out of my way to Damon when they meet on the doorstep of the library and it's not like I'm going anywhere, is it? to him when he tells her that he'll see her the next day.
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On the third day of their forced cohabitation Damon is starting to believe he imagined it all, because she's ignoring him and just minding her own business there's no difference whatsoever with her pre-losing-magic days, which is bad because this means he endured her bad mood and holed himself up at home for nothing.
During the evening she snaps at him, but since she made crystal clear that she was not delighted with his plan he doesn't pick up on the sign. When he catches her staring at the knife on the table he doesn't realize she's trying to move it with her mind.
But he does hear the sound of her restless heart when she locks herself in her bedroom, which is right next to his. He listens to the sound of her body turning on the bed, and the rustling of the sheets when she gets up, and the book thrown against a solid surface that he guesses must be the mirror.
He hears her heartbeat change, telling him she's finally fallen asleep, only around dawn. That's when he lets himself fall asleep too.
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When she gets up he's already in the kitchen, sipping on a mug of coffee mixed with A plus blood. He does not say anything as she walks to the counter top to take the carafe of coffee, still wearing her pajama pants and the tiny shirt that let him see her mocha skin covered in black veins that turn around her neck like a sort of tribal tattoo. She's not really a morning person – he's learned that she does not make a sound before the first sip of coffee - and after a sleepless night he guesses she needs all the calm she can get; moreover she had always covered her body to her chin despite the warm weather so that he would not see the traces of her addiction, so if she does not care to show how black magic has affected her he supposes he had better not piss her off as usual or she'll do something they might regret.
He pretends he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary when he looks at her. He stays around enough to hear her moving, distant enough that she won't see him. It's like walking on eggshells and he was never good at that.
When Stefan comes to check on them she's locked up in her room as her usual and Damon is sure "She would make the house blow up if she had her powers."
"It's that bad?"
"I think it's about to get worse," he says, smiling sarcastically behind the glass of bourbon he's fixed himself.
"Do you want me to hang around?"
"I can manage by myself," he answers sitting on the sofa, and crossing his legs at the ankles, looking up toward his brother.
"Maybe I could bring Elena over tonight," he suggests "She'd be happy to see Bonnie, she's very worried about her."
"I don't know, that could backfire."
"Let's give it a try, if it gets bad we'll leave," he insists.
"Yeah, you mean you'll leave me with a very pissed Bonnie," he says flatly "Sounds like fun."
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When Damon enters the kitchen a few hours later to tell her that her friend is going to come by the house, he finds her nosily cutting vegetables to make herself dinner.
"Hey there," he says cautiously.
There's a knife missing from the wooden knife block and it's the one for meat. He guess she's in the mood for some gratuitous violence. This looks bad, like a new, shiny level of tremendously bad.
He takes a few steps very slowly and speaks in a low voice so as not to push her. Bonnie is biting her lip so hard he's sure she's going to make it bleed, and both her hands are trembling on the breadboard.
"What do you say I do it instead?" he asks, cautiously reaching for the knife, but she just pulls away.
"Don't!" she says, not looking at him.
"Fine," he says, but it's not fine at all. She's going to chop off her hand if she keeps it up like that. And when she starts cutting again he sees very clearly the blade sinking into her palm. He reaches for her hand and drags her by the sink to put her hand under the water jet but she closes her wounded palm into a fist and asks him "You want to waste my blood?"
He's so thrown by her question that he stops with her hand midair to look at her. Bonnie swallows her saliva and looks like she's about to sell her soul to the devil. Which she probably is.
"You can have my blood," she says, pupils dilated in excitement, thinking about what she can get in exchange "Don't you want it? No fuss and no girls to get rid of after. Just some good, free blood."
"Sure," he says, sarcastically "And in exchange I just have to give you back your magic, don't I?" he asks, not worrying about showing what he truly thinks about her proposal.
To make it clear that he's not falling for her trick he pulls at her arm forcing her hand under the water jet. She shrieks and the other hand holding the knife flies toward his neck.
"What-"
She does not even scratch his skin. He's a vampire, too fast for any human to even hope to harm in such a laughable way, so he twists both her arms behind her back. The new position presses her against his body; breast against chest, breath crushes against breath while she looks up and he stares down at her.
Bonnie jerks in his arms and he holds her wrists together a little harder so that the knife falls from her hand while the smell of her blood and her frustration reaches his nostrils.
"Let me go!" she screams, out of breathe.
"You promise to be good?" he asks, not trusting she will keep her word even if she does promise.
But she doesn't, she just screams again to be let go and jerks, and he forces her against his body to trap her scream into her chest.
"Bonnie, stop," he says, but she doesn't listen.
She just says "I need my magic back," and "You don't understand, I need it!"
She doesn't listen when he says "You don't," and "That black shit is going to kill you," and "Bonnie, stop."
"Just a bit," she begs, "I'll kill you!" she threatens; "Why won't you let me go?" she asks; "I'm dying," she says, because she truly feels like she's dying. Like there's an echo in her body from how empty it feels and it's just unbearable.
"You're not your magic," he tries to tell her, his mouth almost pressed against her ear while she tries to pull away "You're not a container. You're not like this. This stuff will destroy you."
"Why do you care?" she whimpers against his shoulder. Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears.
Damon just holds her, because he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know why he cares. Because, yes, damn it, he cares. So what?
"That's a good question," he says, trying to lighten his tone, "Ask me again next time, okay?"
Bonnie feels boneless in his arms. He can smell her salty tears, the blood coming out of her wound onto her palm mixing with the water, the blood that's not coming out from the wounds around her tortured heart. Stefan and Elena inside the house.
Put your coat on, this city trembles.
Keep your chin up, as you untangle God.
His hold lightens and when Bonnie moves he's sure she's going to hit him at best she can; she raises her arms and they slip on his shoulders and link around his neck while she presses her face against its curve and dampens her skin with the tears he feels her shedding.
"I can't do this," she whispers with a voice so broken that he is not sure he heard her right. Damon holds her against his body, lowering his head and placing one hand on her hair, as if to shelter her completely.
"You're strong," he murmurs against her ear, choosing to forget about his brother and the girl watching them. "You can do it,"
We are X-rays of something broken.
Cursive bloodlines write every forecast:
An orchestration of dissonance and innocent surrender.
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Elena covers her mouth with both hands trying to not cry at the sight of her best friend broken, and Stefan pulls her away to leave his brother and Bonnie alone. His friend is too vulnerable now, and if Damon has managed to make a connection with her they don't have to risk it.
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When our color dies,
We will bury the ashes of time,
And we will earn new eyes.
Damon doesn't really know how long he holds her, and he doesn't really care to know. He stops only when he feels her calming down in his arms, and just to guide her to the bathroom to clean her wounded hand. Bonnie doesn't look at him as he moves around to take the medicine chest; she's just surprised they have one considering that only vampires live in the house.
Then she remembers Alaric and she wonders if Damon is still sad because he lost the person who was pretty much his only friend. Only in that moment does she raise her eyes to look at him; beautiful blue eyes fixed on her skin, mouth pouting in concentration, two lines gracing his immaculate forehead.
Only with careful hands
We'll turn their fangs into feathers and cures.
Bonnie's mouth curves with the ghost of a smile.
The physical need for magic still make her ache but something is tugging at her heartstrings and it feels painfully good. She just wants to rest now.
"All done," he says and she looks at her hand bandaged with white gauze, held together by a double knot.
"I should put professional nurse on my résumé, right under serial killer," he jokes. "If I had a résumé, that is."
"I'll make sure to provide excellent references," she says with a weak voice, keeping her eyes on the bandage. She's tired, and embarrassed by where her unfortunate breakdown ended up.
Damon feels uneasy. One way or another they always end up cut open and bleeding in front of each other. It's unsettling. He feels like there's no space between them. Like she's still pressed against him, and has the awkward suspicion he'll feel that way forever.
Only with careful hands
We'll divide the prisoner
From the pioneer.
"I heard the door," he says, changing the subject. "I think Stefan and Elena are here."
Bonnie's body tenses up and she bites at her lower lip, already reddened from previous chewing.
"It's okay if you don't feel like having company," he says, feeling her agitation. "You can say hi and go up to your room. They'll understand."
Elena will understand, after feeling hurt, because she's good at being the victim, the damsel in distress, expecially now that she's a vampire and every feeling is amplified. But even if he loves her, she'll just have to get over it.
"Yeah," she says, turning to go to the drawing room.
At her arrival Elena gets up from the sofa and smiles at her with big glossy eyes and a worried expression.
"Bonnie," she says, relieved. "I- I'm so glad to see you."And she moves her eyes between her friend and Damon, who stays behind Bonnie like he's her shadow cast on the ground.
"Me too," Bonnie says, taking an uncertain step, with Damon following her. "I just, I really need to rest," she adds, grimacing, holding her hands together. "Do you mind?".
"Of course not," Elena's smile falls a little but she doesn't protest "It's okay, I understand," she says, as she and the Salvatores follow Bonnie's exit with their eyes.
"I need to take some air," Damon says, holding Elena's gaze. "See you later," he adds, glancing at his brother.
"Sure" Stefan says. And it's only a matter of seconds before they hear the front door closing behind him.