Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to L.J. Smith and all other relevant copyright holders.
SLOPPY SECONDS
5
Of course, Damon is talking about Stefan, Stefan and Elena. As if their love quadrangle isn't complicated enough already, with Elena loving Stefan, Stefan loving Elena, despite of her alikeness to Katherine, who Damon also loved, and Damon, who now likes Elena, though he may still love Katherine. Katherine, who he recently kissed thinking it was Elena…
Just thinking about it annoys Bonnie to no end. She scornfully turns up her nose. "Projecting much? I'm not lusting after anyone."
"Really?"
"I have morals," she snaps, "unlike you." Indignant and refusing to continue the conversation, she strides off to the water. She grits her teeth and barrels right in. The icy wet drenches, chilling her to the bone. Despite the cold, she dunks her head in, sinks deep, wishing that she could lose herself in the water.
Because she's not strictly telling the truth, though Stefan's the last person she'd ever lust after. The moment Elena became interested in him, Bonnie discarded all hope. No boy went for Bonnie Bennet when they could have Elena Gilbert. It's always been that way, and Bonnie's long accepted it.
Elena's the person that everyone falls in love with. Like a magnetic force, the world revolves around her, and no one can fight the pull. Caroline's the cute one, the show pony who forcibly grabs any attention that doesn't fall onto Elena. And Bonnie's the best friend, the constant, the in-between. She's the one who buys the litre-tubs of double chocolate fudge ice cream after break-ups. She's the one people look over to tell Elena (or Caroline), 'Don't you look be-yoo-ti-ful today!'
Truly, Bonnie never really minded. She never thought it about that way, until Matt. Matt, whom Bonnie loved since that day in first grade when he gave her all his cold Tater tots after bullies stole her lunch. Matt only ever saw Bonnie as an extension of Elena. And Bonnie thought Matt would love Elena forever and ever (the hopeless romantic in Bonnie kind of liked that).
And then he hooked up with Caroline, around the time Grams died.
And Bonnie's world crumbled.
It wasn't just because of Matt. In a way, the possibility of Matt ever seeing her was never really real to begin with. But it hurt, that he saw Caroline, that Caroline was good enough in a way Bonnie never was. It hurt worse; that Caroline had Matt, and Elena had Stefan, and Bonnie not only had no one, but also merely half her friends' time. It hurt that she didn't know how to talk to them. It hurt that nothing really changed, despite that they had changed, so much.
Resuming old patterns of behaviour is weird. Ditzy boy talks with Caroline aren't the same when Caroline has a boyfriend. Spending time with Elena isn't the same either, since she now comes with the Salvatore brothers in tow.
Priorities. Bonnie has them. During her mourning period, she re-organised and compartmentalised her life entirely. With the time remaining before college, she will make the most of her existing relationships: her family, her best friends. Boys are replaceable. History is not. Memories are not. Most of all, she doesn't want to be a bitter person.
She resurfaces from the water, hoping the long dunk washed out all the gory bits. Damon mentioned something about brains and gore on her jacket. She shakes it out, just to be sure.
Damon already waits by the bank, dripping wet, not the slightest bit caring. "Let's go," he says, as if their previous conversation never took place. "I sense something in the woods."
Bonnie tenses, "Is it a vampire?"
"I can't tell." He walks briskly. "Vampires can't sense other vampires nearby, unless they're using their Powers."
Bonnie follows him, barely matching his pace. "So what are you sensing?"
"We're being watched."
"Are we in immediate danger?" she asks.
"No."
By the time they reach the car, Bonnie's exhausted. Adamantly fighting it, she rummages around her handbag, taking out an energy drink. First, she stumbles upon her phone. It has a message from Elena:
Covered for you. You're at my house, because long night, too late to drive. See you at Stefan's? Will already be sleeping. Feel free to crash on their couch.
It's a bad idea. Bonnie knows this immediately, even without the kick of guarana and carbonated bubbles fizzing away on her tongue. After polishing off the energy drink, she's more convinced that crashing the Salvatore's is no way to go. She sneaks a look at Damon. He's brooding, staring off into this distance, less than thrilled to be here now. Enduring any more of his awkward silence is an unbearable thought. And approaching the possibility on another angle, Bonnie no way wants to third-wheel on Stefan and Elena's (very likely) morning after.
Her mind is made up. No Salvatore house. No way. She starts the car engine. "I'll drop you off," she says to Damon. "It's late. I'm heading home."
He doesn't respond. Probably doesn't care.
The ride back is silent. She stops outside his house. He gets off. He doesn't say goodbye. She leaves, driving down the bumpy track back to the main town. She thinks to park somewhere quiet and just sleep off the night. It's already two o'clock. There's four hours to dawn. Surely, four hours isn't that big a safety risk.
Somehow, she finds herself parking outside the Mystic Falls cemetery. Somehow, she's compelled to get out. She finds herself by Gram's grave, hands resting on the smooth granite headstone.
It's ridiculous to think that being in the graveyard at the dead of night is safe. But somehow, Bonnie feels protected. She senses the tingle of protective magic around the Bennet family plot. There are also wreaths of dried vervain hanging from Gram's headstone. She thinks to maybe borrow a wreath, take it back to her car and sleep there. Then, she closes her eyes, for a second. They feel so heavy…
The next time she opens her eyes, however, it is early morning. Barely an hour past dawn, the graveyard is full of mist and fog. Immediately, Bonnie feels cold. Her skin is raised in goose pimples. Her hair is slightly damp and wildly frizzy, standing at the ends.
And her jacket. It's missing. She was wearing it when she inadvertently fell asleep, but somehow now, it's gone. She races back to her car. It isn't there either. It really is gone.
As for her car, the front window is smashed in, and there's glass everywhere. Someone's gone through her handbag and pulled everything out. Funny, her wallet's still there. Her trunk has been opened and messed with too. She remembers neatening everything after hefting the corpse out, yesterday. Now, there are papers everywhere. The upholstery is ripped, as though someone tore it out with claws…
An animal attack. Immediately, Bonnie thinks vampire. Not claws, teeth. Teeth, tearing viciously through fabric and metal.
Maybe claws.
Or maybe a jackhammer.
Bonnie sinks to the ground. Rests her head against the fender. Forget vampires and improbable feats with teeth for now. How on earth can she explain this to her Dad?
"Let me get this straight." Elena's voice is calm and steady, but it echoes in the Salvatore garage, resonating grimness. "You spent last night in a graveyard."
"This morning," Bonnie corrects faintly.
"I covered for you, invited you to stay here… and you decided a graveyard was better."
Bonnie feels ridiculous… ridiculously justified, that is. "I didn't want to impose. It's not your house."
"Bonnie," Stefan says, "we wouldn't have minded."
"Well," Bonnie's got the beginnings of a horrible headache, and it's making her snappish. "Maybe I did."
"You're lucky this is your car!" Elena's voice is a whiplash. "My God, Bonnie. It could have been you!"
"I'm lucky I wasn't in my car," Bonnie sighs. Then the realisation hits her like a blow. "Wait, do you know what this means?"
Elena's lips are pressed in a white line, a telltale sign that she's barely holding onto an extremely rude comment.
"Grams protected me!" Bonnie's confused about how she feels about this, apart from excited. She's not happy, exactly, not in the joyous way. She's certainly grateful to be alive… "I was right at her grave. There was vervain, and magic—"
"Someone is coming by at ten to fix your car." Damon strolls in, interrupting Bonnie mid sentence. "I used my connections."
He's wearing a white shirt, completely unbuttoned. He has stubble. And chest hair. Bonnie badly wants to ask how vampires can have stubble and chest hair but she swallows down the question. Not appropriate for now. Not appropriate ever.
"Thank you for that," she says instead, awkwardly, staring at her hands. She refuses to goggle at his bare, manly chest.
"No problem." He surveys the wrecked car like it's an archaic wild beast. "Least I could do, since I scared you off last night."
He's back to being mocking.
"You didn't scare me off," Bonnie says stiffly. "I didn't want to third wheel."
"I see." Damon's smile is sly. "How terribly… moral of you."
So Damon still thinks she's lusting after Stefan, and in deep denial. This thought makes Bonnie rage. Forget Stefan. Damon's exactly the reason why she didn't want to stay here last night. Because she wouldn't have been able to restrain herself from killing him. After burying a corpse last night, she's almost expert at hiding bodies.
Throughout the rest of the day, Damon keeps giving her meaningful looks, which follow on from meaningful looks to Stefan, and flirty, sparkly-eyed flirtations at Elena. Somehow, Bonnie's now ingratiated into the whole Salvatore brother-and-Elena-and-Katherine love mess.
According to Damon, there's no other men or women in world apart from Stefan, Katherine and Elena.
Bonnie's infuriated by the time she goes back home. Seething with rage, she pulls into the driveway and stalks through the adjoining hallway to the kitchen. There's a note on the counter from her Dad:
Hope you had a nice time at Elena's. Will be late tonight. See you at eight.
Bonnie's distantly grateful; she's not fit for human company right now.
Listlessly, she opens the cupboard. Picks out a package of soft tortillas, gets out granola and tomatoes from the fridge. It is kind of healthy food: mushy and blah to suit her mushy and blah, but somehow almost ready to tear someone's head off mood.
It is only after she closes the fridge door that all her senses flare up in alarm. Fear rapidly replaces anger. There's someone right behind her. She spins around.
It's Tyler Lockwood, who smiles. "Hello, Bonnie. I've been waiting for you."
He waves. But not with hands. He has sharp and bloodied claws.
A/N: This chapter was harder to write than the last few, which is why it took longer. I'm quite happy with how it's turned out though. I was stuck with just five paragraphs for a week!
As always, thank you to everyone who reviews this story. You keep it afloat! Your feedback really encourages me to persevere on! Special thanks to simone, who pointed out Bonnie's parents are divorced. I didn't catch that, and have edited accordingly.
Also, since the D/B elements are going pretty slowly, I assure you, it definitely is a D/B fic. It's just a really slow burning one...