OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. But here's to hoping!
Okay, so I know I'm dreadful. Go ahead, scorn me. I haven't updated in a while, and I admit this chapter isn't all that exciting. I had planned to make it much longer, but I remembered that I promised you no more 9-day hiatuses, and right now we're at about 8, so I'm giving you guys what I've got! The good news--I've been newly inspired in terms of plot and all that jazz, so there's plenty of good stuff to come. I love getting emails letting me know that so many people are adding this to story alert and as a favorite story, but of course, a good ol' fashioned review will always light a fire under my ass, so keep 'em coming!
Strike up the band, cue the overture, and lift the curtain. It's showtime!
Bonnie stood outside her house and wiped her tears away. "Get it together," she muttered to herself under her breath. Just keep it together until you get upstairs, she thought. She took a deep breath before opening the door and heading directly for the stairs. Her father was in the kitchen discussing arrangements for the wake viewing and the funeral.
He noticed as she came in and called after her, but she didn't respond.
"She'll be fine," she heard him say mechanically to himself. Bonnie shuddered. It was like an echo of what Stefan had assured him while he compelled him the night before. Was he still under his trance? Bonnie shook her head, pushing the thought from her mind. After all, it didn't really matter.
Bonnie burst into her bedroom just as the tears began to flow uncontrollably from her eyes once again. She shut the door behind her as quietly as she could, but even so, a considerable slam sounded through the house. She sat down at her vanity and looked into the mirror. A nauseating knot was twisting in the pit of her stomach. It can't be nothing, she thought. She repeated the words over and over in her head. It can't be nothing. It can't be nothing. It can't be nothing.
Still, there was a dark voice inside her retorting, "Nothing more can come of this. It's ending before it will ever really begin." The very thought pained her. She threw an intent look at the candles that sat in front of the mirror. In a moment they were lit and she watched as her tears shined with reflections of the flames. The light flickered on her bronze skin and the self-pity sharpened into resentful anger. "Who does he think he is?" she whispered to her reflection as the flames swelled. In front of the candles were the scattered petals of two artificial flowers that had been sitting in a hand-painted vase for years. She'd pulled the petals out weeks ago and set them on her vanity so that she could whirl them around—partially for practice, and partially because she was still in awe of her own abilities.
She concentrated on the little synthetic petals as they began to rise from the surface, the pink ones swirling around with the yellow ones. At first she moved them without direction or intention, but then she focused in on one pink one specifically. Her eyes narrowed and the petal floated gently toward the still-increasing flames. As it caught and burned in the little fire, she felt her phone vibrate in her front pocket. All at once, the flames were doused and the little black wicks were smoking. The petals fell all around the vanity, some on her lap.
And with the petals, the anger fell out of her eyes and was replaced with something familiar—hope. She had to lean back to get her phone out of her skinny jeans, but she leaned back too far, and before she could catch herself, she toppled back onto the floor, landing on her elbow. "Shit," she muttered, but ignoring the pain in her elbow, she pulled the still buzzing phone from her pocket. Her heart was racing expectantly as she answered the call without bothering to check who was calling. Later she would wonder why she hadn't taken the time to check—whether she was certain of who was calling, or whether she was too afraid to find out it wasn't Stefan.
"Hello?" she answered softly, eyes wide with some combination of excitement and nervous apprehension. But she practically cringed when the person on the other end spoke.
"Honey, I am so sorry! My mom just told me about your grandmother. I can't believe it. I had to call you. How are you? I can't even imagine…"
Despite having asked a question, Caroline continued to babble on. Bonnie didn't fight to interrupt her. The tears were back and she knew that trying to speak would only result in broken words uttered through sobs. She took deep breaths until she'd gathered enough composure to speak, but even so, Caroline didn't give her an opportunity for quite a while. Bonnie only caught words and phrases here and there... "Matt," "I had no idea," "Damon and I," "It was never," "haven't done it…" She didn't have the patience to try and string them together as Caroline chewed her ear off.
Finally, Caroline yielded to Bonnie. "So, are you, like, okay?"
Bonnie sighed. She wanted to tell Caroline everything. She wanted to tell her what happened with Stefan, and how furious and heartbroken she was that he was nowhere to be found. She wanted to tell her about how she'd found Damon and Elena less than an hour earlier. She wanted to tell her everything. But she couldn't. "Yeah," she said. "I'm going to be okay."
She was lying through her teeth, but Caroline couldn't tell. It wasn't her fault, of course—Caroline just wasn't the type of person to worry too much about anyone but herself. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She was certainly the type of person to indulge in some great gossip, and even in the whirlwind of painful emotions surrounding Bonnie, she had to admit that all the news she fought to swallow was definitely great gossip. But Caroline would find out eventually, just as soon as Stefan told Elena.
That is, if Stefan ever came back.
She shook the thought from her mind. Caroline had already begun talking again, and Bonnie tried to catch up.
"…wake viewing at your house tomorrow. Matt and I are going to be there, of course, and then the—" Bonnie cut her off.
"Why 'Matt and I?'" she asked.
Caroline huffed, and Bonnie could picture her frustrated pout perfectly. "I told you. Last night, Matt and I talked, and we're official! He's so amazing, Bonnie. I'm, like, a total hot mess about it. I can't stop thinking about him!" Caroline explained, giggling.
Bonnie felt a forced smile come to her even though Caroline couldn't see her. "That's great," she insisted. It sounded believable, too. She was pleased with herself.
"Aw," Caroline cooed. "Thanks, sweetie. I was totally worried for the longest time about Elena and what she would think. But we talked about it a few days ago and she said she was okay with it. I was so relieved, because I thought she was just going to shit when she found out. But I guess if she's got the lovely Mr. Salvatore now, she really doesn't mind me and Matt together, you know?"
Bonnie couldn't help but crack a sincere smile. "Of course," she agreed. "The lovely Mr. Salvatore."
"So I guess you aren't going to be in school tomorrow, huh?" Caroline said.
"Nope," Bonnie replied. "We're going to be getting things ready around here for the viewing." She paused, and then added, "You know, I really appreciate the fact that you're coming."
"Hon, are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm going to be there for you." Caroline's words held a shimmer of hope. If being there for Bonnie was such a high priority for Caroline, there was just no way that Stefan wouldn't end up there for her as well.
"Thanks, Caroline."
"Of course. I have to go, babe. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye," Bonnie said before hanging up. She tossed the phone onto her bed. She sat for a minute, and bent her arm slowly, gauging the pain in her elbow. She winced a bit, but it wasn't too bad. There might be a bruise there tomorrow.
Tomorrow. He'll come, she assured herself. She took a deep breath and let the stress leave her as she exhaled. He'll be here, she told herself again. Still, her gaze traveled back toward the bed and lingered helplessly on her cell phone.
"No," she said aloud. She turned around resolutely and headed for the bathroom in the hallway. It surprised her, but talking to Caroline had put her in a good mood, and she didn't want to lose it. Just hold on, she demanded herself. Once in the bathroom, she let her clothes fall to the floor and filled the bathtub. She experimented with heating the water herself, something she'd never tried before. But, she thought, if I can make fire… The water heated with time, and Bonnie wasn't sure that she'd had anything to do with that.
She stepped into the tub and sat down slowly, letting herself sink in. She brought her head under the water for a few moments and relaxed, and when she came back up again, she felt invigorated. She looked up, but not at the ceiling—not at anything, in fact.
But she sat there for a while, gazing upward, and for once, not thinking of Stefan, but rather of Grams. "You've got rotten timing, Grams," she admitted softly, as though the late witch were there. "Well, at least one of us does." And with a bittersweet smile, she closed her eyes to reminisce.
***
It was mid-afternoon when Damon's shower turned off for the second time that day. Elena wrung her hair out with her hands as Damon reached out past the shower curtain for a bath sheet. He wrapped it around the both of them. Elena shivered as he pulled her close. She held the ends of the towel in her fists and wrapped her arms around his torso, but still his back was exposed to the chilly air as their naked bodies pressed together. He rubbed his nose against hers briefly and kissed her perfect, rosy lips.
He freed himself from her embrace and she hugged herself, clinging to the towel. He helped her out of the tub and led her to his bed. They got under the covers and Elena settled the towel across the pillows to soak under their wet hair. He held her in his arms beneath the white down comforter.
He kissed her on the forehead. "That was my second shower today," he stated the thought out loud. Elena smiled and pulled her hand from under the covers, holding three fingers up in front of him. He looked down at her. "Really?"
"Yeah, sort of," she said. "After Stefan left I hopped back in the tub to shave my legs."
He ran his hand over her flawlessly smooth leg, which was draped over his, and groaned with appreciation. "This is unreal," he said before lifting her chin so that her lips met his.
"What is?" she asked.
"You, with me," he explained. "I really had gotten to thinking you'd be drooling over Stefan forever."
She nuzzled his neck. "Where do you think he is?"
He shrugged unenthusiastically. "Your guess is as good as mine, kid. But I can tell you where he isn't: in his bedroom." He flashed her a cocky smile.
She rolled her eyes. "Nice try," she said. It was almost unsettling to her how easily she could forget about Stefan during all of this. She'd really hurt him, and while she knew that she was in the wrong, she couldn't bring herself to be guilty about it. "Maybe that's what the dream meant," she wondered out loud.
Damon shut his eyes and leaned his head back, relaxed. "What dream?" he asked.
She drew circles on his chest with her fingertip as she spoke. "I had this dream the other night about you and Stefan, and I've been trying to figure out what it means—especially after last night."
The words made them both smile. "So what exactly happened in this dream?" he inquired with a smirk.
She explained the dream to him. Damon's head lifted again as she told him and his eyes widened with fascination. He listened patiently, hanging on her every word. He was getting hard as she told him how he'd flung Stefan aside and had his own, gentle and passionate way with her. Then she told him her interpretation, and her explanation for why Damon had waited so long to get involved seemed to bring a little lingering melancholy to his eyes. He held her tighter in his arms, but nodded for her to go on.
"The only thing I couldn't figure out," Elena eventually said, "is why Stefan left so quietly in my dream. I figured it meant he would understand how much we need each other and he would just leave us alone. But now I realized something else."
"What's that?" he asked.
"I never really saw him leave in the dream. I don't think he was gone because he left quietly; I think he was gone because I forgot about him completely once I was with you. But when I was… with Stefan, I couldn't not think of you. I kept staring at you, worrying about you… But it didn't happen the other way around."
A soft smile crept across his lips slowly and he loosened his embrace a bit.
She went on. "Basically, I think that the fact that Stefan was gone sort of represented my ability to ignore him, not his willingness to let me go."
Damon twisted his face in mild disgust—he really didn't care to talk about his coward of a brother any longer. "So I guess you'll be going to Sheila's wake tomorrow?" he said, changing the subject.
Elena looked up at him, slightly confused. "I didn't know there was a wake tomorrow."
"Yeah," he swallowed. "That's what Bonnie said."
"Oh. Well, yeah, of course I'll be going. And I think maybe you ought to come too," she added. He frowned, but nodded. "After all, they did that spell to save you."
"And they wouldn't have had to if I hadn't been so fucking determined to open that damned tomb. And for something that wasn't even inside," he said, and then looked at her. "For something I didn't even want."
Elena looked longingly into his sad, clear blue eyes. "Damon, it's done. You can't change what's happened… but maybe after we pay our respects to Grams, we can put this whole messy ordeal behind us."
He nodded, and she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She's not entirely right, he thought. There was something else—something that she had yet to confront.
But he couldn't be the one to tell her.
Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 6:
"Bandages," Hot Hot Heat
Bonnie bursts into her room - She falls off the vanity seat
"Bowl of Oranges," Bright Eyes *Particular emphasis on the lines: "That's why I'm singing, baby don't worry/'cause now I've got your back/and every time you feel like crying/I'm gonna try to make you laugh..."*
Bonnie cracks a sincere smile - She reminisces
"Let's Stay Together," Al Green
At the boardinghouse
I know, it's not really deserving of a fanfare or anything, but I hope it will satisfy you until I get something a little more meaty done. Oh, and as I said before, those reviews really fuel the fire, and I love it when I get the emails on my BlackBerry when I'm out and about. Thanks, kids. Lots of love.
