Chapter One

A/N: Sorry it's been taking me a little while to update I've been busy with good news!

I PUBLISHED A BOOK!

IT'S CALLED KNEEL BEFORE YOU BY ON

THERE'S A FREE EXCERPT IN MY FANFICTION WORKS ENTITLED KNEEL BEFORE YOU

Once, when she was younger— right around the time her mother abandoned her— her dad was out for the day and her grandmother was at work. During a commercial break for Clifford the Big Red Dog she hopped downstairs, absolutely starving, with only about 3 and ½ minutes to grab a bowl of cereal. Unfortunately, she hopped a bit too hard and didn't see where she was going, resulting in her tripping over the rug in the hallway and twisting her ankle. It was the first time she'd ever truly realised how alone she was.

Curled over by the side of that stupid, stupid rug, she was near paralyzed in pain and nobody was coming to check on her. Crying ridiculously loudly didn't bring any intervention either. Nobody was coming to see if she was okay or help her. And there wouldn't be anyone for a while.

Bonnie's world felt empty as she sat there and suffered, unable to move further than the sofa and unable to get any help. Cell Phones basically weren't a thing for kids her age and she couldn't remember anyone's home phone numbers. Well she could have if she put her mind to it, but the pain from her ankle was frying any coherent thought so remembering anything was out of the question.

Eventually Grams came home to her passed out on the couch. She set about making a poultice for the bruised appendage and then gently woke Bonnie up. She needed crutches. Thankfully, when she was healing she'd never felt more loved and cherished. Grams was at her beck and call, dad never stayed away from work for so long, and Elena and Caroline entertained the majority of her waking moments— swinging by before school, after school, and all day on the weekends.

But that feeling of being all alone never quite left her. Inevitably there were moments she was left by herself again and that's when she'd find herself sitting in it. Though eventually someone would always come around to bring her out of it.

Right now she's drowning in it. In the loneliness.

And no one is coming to bring her out of it.

Maybe Damon. But even in his presence it's so easy to be lonely. Having him around isn't the same as having another actual person around. All he does is mope and drink and occasionally drop the odd sarcastic comment. The closer she gets to him the more she realises just how not human he really is.

Dead + Being Undead= Not good company.

NO.

They are not dead.

Shit she's starting to sound like him.

But why would Grams send them to 1994? Why is every day exactly the same? Why is there no one here? And what the fuck is up with the eclipse?

It was nice at first, something unexpected— and she'll admit it was pretty— but every goddamn day? It's so monumental and majestic and then it's just gone. Is it meant to be a metaphor?

Then who sent the metaphor?

WHY ARE THEY HERE?

OhGod.

OhGodOhGodOhGod.

There it is again. Loneliness. It's stronger than ever before. She doesn't know why she came to Elena's house. Perhaps she hoped it would lessen the ache. After her mom left she never quite felt so happy and loved as she did when she was at Elena's. Seeing her happy family, her mom, her dad, Jeremy… They always went out of their way to make her feel like she was home. She misses that feeling.

It's the existential crisis, the crippling loneliness, and the feeling of anticipation in her gut even though she knows nothing is coming, that makes her want to scream.

No wait she actually screams.

Suddenly this house is too big and too silent and too empty and she. needs. to. leave. Bonnie stumbles towards the mahogany door, fingers grasping for the golden handle as she practically yanks it open and forces herself into the fresh air. Heaving, she staggers into the evening— crushed under the weight of all these questions, under the weight of realising she may never get an answer.

What if she could?

Sobbing on the grass, she realises that there is one way of getting an answer. A permanent one. She wouldn't even have to put up with Damon any more. All she has to do is end it.

End herself.

Then she's wheezing for another reason. Grams put all that effort into saving her, and stopping her from dying, why would she go and kill herself?

Because this isn't a life worth living.

Stumbling through blurry eyes, Bonnie barely gets a couple of steps forward before she hits a wall.

Not a wall. She wipes her eyes.

'Leave me alone Damon!' She yells, but he doesn't move. So maybe wall was an accurate description.

'If that's really what you want then fine, I will. I will leave you alone forever, in this empty, godforsaken place.' His crystal blue eyes are cut into a deadly stare. 'Or you can accept the fact that you're stuck with me and I'm stuck with you and there's no way back.'

He's referring to the argument that brought her here, to Elena's house. Damon glances over her shoulder, taking it in. She can practically see the ghost of Elena wandering through his gaze and her heart clenches at the idea that she might never see her best friend again.

There's no way back.

She shakes away what little sympathy she almost had for Damon and rounds on him. How can he be so in love with Elena and not want to do everything in his power to get back to her? How can he give up so easily?

'Is that how you do it with Elena? You bully her into forgiving you.' She spits venomously.

'What Elena and I do—' He cuts himself off, face contorting as he switches tense, ' — or did, 'is none of your business.'

But she heard it, and she saw it too. Mentioning Elena, being in her old home, it sparked something in Damon. If only for a second, Bonnie swears she saw hope in him. That brief glimmer is enough to reignite her own spark.

'There has to be a way back Damon. Grams wouldn't send us here to die.' She whispers, practically begging him with her eyes not to destroy the weak faith she's mustered.

He doesn't disagree. Instead he gives her that stoic stare and puts a hand on each shoulder.

She's seen him do this before. It's his go to move before he snaps someone's neck. Bonnie should be pulling away, screaming, running. But how can she have a sense of self-preservation when she's losing all the reasons to preserve herself. Damon killing her would be a lot easier than killing herself.

She closes her eyes and waits.

Sure enough his fingers slip up the back of her neck and she can feel the pressure worsening. But then she feels something cold hit her nose, and the smell of bourbon and cologne stings her eyes into opening. Damon's blue denim button up fills her view. Then the second hand moves down between her shoulder blades to give a pat.

He's hugging her.

It's an awful hug. Cold, clammy, awkward.

She leans into it and starts crying again. He holds her close and lets her but she still feels that loneliness deep inside her. Bonnie looks up and spies Damon's own forlorn frown and she realises that, sure, she's alone. But at least they're alone together.

Sniffing away the last of the tears, Bonnie pulls away from the embrace. Sharing a look, they both silently agree to never bring up this hug again.

'I'm gonna find a way back Damon.' Bonnie mumbles, starting with him down the street.

'I believe you believe that, Bonster.' He sighs into the dark evening.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

'You can't be mad at me for what I believe.' Damon says, glancing over at her. She clenches her jaw because he's right. She can't be angry at him for being hopeless. But she can be angry at him for trying to make her feel that way too. 'If you're going to be mad at me then at least make it for a good reason. Like if I murdered someone—'

'You have murdered people—' She replies flatly.

' —I meant recently. Or like if I betrayed you—'

' —Are we really going to go there?'

'Or like if I told a really bad joke.'

'You'd have to have a sense of humour to tell jokes.'

'Ouch.' Damon holds his hand over where his dead heart is supposed to be. 'I'll have you know I'm hilarious.'

'Dark humour doesn't count.' Bonnie quips.

'Dark humour is the best kind of humour.' He counters. 'You know I never drink from clowns?'

'Why's that?' She asks warily.

'Because they taste funny.' He flashes a grin.

Caught off guard, she lets a giggle slip and immediately slaps her hand over her mouth to catch it.

'Hah! You laughed. I'm hilarious.' Damon gloats.

As much as she wants to disagree, it was a funny joke. She didn't even know he was capable of making jokes. Maybe he's capable of a lot more than she realises. Walking back towards the Salvatore manor, Bonnie's filled with a different kind of hope. Not for getting out of here, for getting her powers back, or for even getting any of her questions answered. She's filled with the hope that maybe Damon might be better company than she thought.

Considering he's the only company she has, he damn well better be.

As they're walking, Bonnie catches a glimpse of a dark shadow behind them. She whips her head around to see it, only to catch nothing. Just the empty roads, lit up by the beaming streetlights. She looks back at Damon who's saying something, but she can't quite hear it. His words are drowned out by the blood rushing to her ears. A high pitched ringing comes over her as she tries to focus on something other than that feeling in her gut. She'd gotten used to it being stretched, pulling at her. Now, all at once, it feels like it's snapped neatly into place, still whole but… home again.

A shiver falls through her body and washes away whatever supernatural feeling she was tapping into. She must have been seeing things. It's the only explanation she can think of. Unless there's a ghost here? Bonnie amuses herself with the idea of a ghost following her around as she tunes back into the conversation with Damon.

A ghost wouldn't be so bad.

At least she'd never be lonely again.

A/N:

Hey.

Remember me?

Remember when I said I was done with fanfiction?

Apparently, nobody warned me, that this shit is for life. Once you're in you can never get out. Fanfiction, reading it, writing it, is like the mafia. You can think you're done but then suddenly you're back in again. Plus I've finished writing the my Original story and am now just waiting around to see if someone will ever publish it (side-note, the process of getting published is brutal and long and If I wanted something brutal and long I would just re-watch the new star wars trilogy)