Saturday, June 16, 2012

28

angels hear

how she weeps

in the night

tenderly attend to her woe

each dark winged

heavenly creature comes

with thread in hand

ready to mend

this broken heart

gathering bits and pieces

every pain shattered fragment

pierced anew

loves holy grace

render each wound

divine anguish

Doin' Time -Lana Del Rey

Of all the things Damon had expected to greet him when he kicked-the-bucket domestic bliss was not one of them. Maybe calling it bliss was a bit of a stretch. He was still stuck in hell although subtle in its approach to torture. It was forever May 10, 1994, the worse day of his life, but it was lacking in the dead people or any people for that matter. So, he was stuck repeating a day that sucked with only the reminder that it sucked.

Overall, it was a weak version of hell, Damon could imagine worse things than repeating the same day over again with only one person to keep him company. The caveat being that one person hated him very much or used to hate him very much. Now she declared that he was her least favorite person. Least favorite, the least of her favorites, it was damn near a declaration of love when it came to Bonnie Bennett.

It was quickly becoming a term of endearment that she never failed to mention anytime he bitched about missing home. And he was doing a lot of bitching lately.

There was a trifecta of reasons he wanted to go home but he knew the chances of them succeeding was practically zero. Bitching about it wasn't doing a thing, yet still he had hope. Magic had to be keeping them in there. Why else would it look, smell, and feel exactly like Mystic Falls of the past on repeat? Coupled with the fact that Damon had strong faith in Bonnie Bennett, he found himself believing that eventually their time in hell would come to an end.

Oddly enough hope and faith made Damon a very cranky boy. Damon couldn't help but count the days hoping that Bonnie would feel that magical spark. He wasn't pushing her about it though, nor was he encouraging. Damon's desire to go home made him think about home, really think about it.

Damon could recount the good less so than the bad, he had always been that way. Damon's heart was fractured, his last moments had been passionate to say the least. She chose him once again by dying with him, he should feel honored to have a woman that devoted to him. A woman who loved him so much that not even death would keep them apart. Yet he felt a cloud permanently lodge itself over his head with worry.

Damon was concerned about whether Elena would be okay. She could be tough but dying with someone and then coming back without them could destroy even the strongest person. He hoped that she wouldn't spend years waiting on him and live her life eventually. He knew with a love as intense as theirs could be, moving on wouldn't be easy.

Damon had considered it many times, moving on after Elena. He knew he was no good for her, and they struggled to communicate sometimes. Those kinds of things could make any relationship challenging but Damon knew there was really no leaving, Elena. Even if he left or she left him for good, he would still linger around. He loved her too much.

Besides his fractured emotional state, which in all fairness was his normal emotional state, Damon was struggling with the lack of food. Blood was in short supply, so he was rationing, but he knew that eventually he would have to go hunting for a suitable blood bank.

There was of course Bonnie his only companion and replenishing blood source, but the problem lied within the fact that she was Bonnie. He had tasted her blood before and nearly drained her to death, a fact he could never think about without feeling a stabbing pang of guilt. He would never feed on her again. He promised himself.

In fact, using Bonnie as a blood source was a problem for another of his reasons, culminating in the trifecta of suck that was his repetitive life. Damon was hard up, completely, and utterly sexually frustrated. Bonnie was not only delicious to smell but she was delicious to look at.

Damon never really hid the fact that he liked looking at Bonnie. Staring into her eyes was one of his favorite past times, partly because time and space would evaporate when he stared into them. However, he never ever made a move on her, every touch they had so far had been unintentional or inconsequential. Sure, he found himself flirting with Bonnie, but he couldn't help but flirt. She pulled it out of him like no one else could.

With Bonnie there was this fine line between, being compelled and getting carried away. Damon knew better though; he saw Bonnie as more than a distraction. Bonnie was Damon's friend whether she accepted it or not. He knew she would never hurt Elena by indulging in her carnal urges and Damon would never hurt Bonnie by indulging in his. It would do no good to ruin a friendship when they were more than likely the only people they had in the meantime.

So, Damon tried to distance his problems and embrace the suck, even though Bonnie the walking talking reminder that he was hungry, needy, and horny was making it nearly impossible.

Dawn, May 10, 1994

The Salvatore's grandfather clock struck 6:00 am, and like clockwork Damon heard that familiar rustle of sheets come from the room next door followed by the sound of two size five feet hitting the cold floor. Damon had Bonnie's routine memorized. She'd stretch, then shuffle to the bathroom and after five minutes she'd reemerge to struggle with some spandex for a while. Afterward she'd put on the rest of her outfit and headed out the door for her morning run by 6:15. She'd go for her usual three-mile jaunt and finish off with yoga. By 7:45, Bonnie would be downstairs showered and ready for their usual breakfast.

Damon left the bed shortly after 6:20 and put on a pot of coffee. He could sort of make out the crunch of gravel underneath her feet about three quarters of a mile out, but the sounds were fading fast. For someone who claimed to suck at running she is improving quickly.

Damon grabbed a bottle of Bailey's and Jameson from the cabinet and made his first cup of coffee for the morning. The taste of whisky and coffee mixed wasn't his favorite. However, Bonnie liked it, and always took a generous helping after suffering from nightmares the previous night. Unfortunately, that was happening nearly every night now.

Damon wasn't sure what to do short of going in her room and messing with her dreams. Last time he tried that he had no success, and they almost missed their flight back to Virginia. When he recently tried to discuss the shared vision with Bonnie, she couldn't seem to recall it at all. Regardless he was hesitant to enter her mind again, if she continued to suffer, then he might have to do something.

Two footsteps slapping the stone slabs out front announced her prompt arrival at 6:45. Yoga! Damon's body reacted the same time his mind did. The skin of his morning wood tightened at the thought of her. Damon wasn't a saint, although he promised himself never to purposefully pursue Bonnie, he never promised to not desire her. It wasn't like he could truly indulge anyway.

So, in the morning he let himself view her through the light curtain of his study that overlooked the front courtyard. For the roughly 50 minutes she spent stretching and contorting herself he watched. It was creepy and he knew it, but it was the closest he would ever get to what he craved. Human touch.

This day Bonnie was practicing her handstands. He watched in quiet awe as her forearms flexed from the pressure. Yet her wrists and hands were stable like thin roots stuck to the ground. The valley of Bonnie's back glistened and strained in the sun accentuating the slight curve of her back into her butt. She was so taught and toned that the black spandex shimmered slightly at the peaks and valleys of her buttocks.

Damon was helplessly transfixed as she elegantly lowered her legs to floor revealing her flushed face and slim abdomen. Her breast heaved bejeweled in sweat and goosebumps. The usual 7:00 breeze rolled through, and Damon could taste her sweat on his tongue as her scent wafted through the window. Her nipples grew hard from the wind and the veins behind his eyes and in his cock thickened with blood. He gave up on watching and not indulging himself and headed for the bathroom.

He turned the shower to the warmest setting enjoying the cascade of tingles that fell down his back. The touch of something foreign against his skin giving him a hint of the sensation he desired. His veins plumped up even more from the pleasure. He took himself in his hands and caressed gently and lightly trying to imagine his summer with Elena. When she had given him everything he wanted and more. However, he didn't need to, the thrilling agitation in his member was captivating and kept him in the present.

Damon's breathing was audible, he took deep exhales with each tug forward. He was on fire, and it felt so good to address his suffering to give in to his longing. The heat of his cock in his hand and the tightness in his loins tingled and ached. Yet he didn't want to hurry up and finish, he wanted to hold on to the moment.

Suddenly the sound of the shower in the adjacent room startled him. Both showers shared a wall. Bonnie was right on the other side.

Bonnie. Bonnie. Bonnie!

He whispered fuck lowly as he felt his hips jerk out of his control. His nipples hardened and his body and mind focused to a pin until he felt the tension snap and release. Ever muscle jerked and twitched in ecstasy, and he had light in his eyes and stars twirling around his head. The veins around his eyes cooled and eased and to his dismay his dead heart was writhing.

It was the first time he ejaculated with her so close to him.

Bonnie was ahead of schedule, he worried she could have heard him. Until he felt the blood on his lip and the soreness of his throat. He managed to hold it on in by shear will.

Damon thought about feeling guilty until he realized that this scenario was bound to happen. They could be here for a few more days a few months or a few centuries. Either way jerking off and coming with Bonnie accidentally on his mind or near by rather wasn't the end of the world. So, with at least one head clear Damon finished washing up and went down to make Bonnie breakfast.

Bonnie stared into the mirror of the second largest bathroom of the Salvatore house. Her eyes were practically glowing, and she looked energized after her usual morning workout. However, on the inside she was tired. It seemed like every night she was reliving the horrors of her life sometimes with intense detail and other times she couldn't place the scenario.

By the time the morning rolled around each day she felt the weight of her everything in her life hit her. Bonnie didn't let her frustrations settle on her. Instead, she focused on what her grandmother told her that she had made a sacrifice to help Bonnie find peace. She knew there had to be a way to escape repeating the same day.

Bonnie hadn't made plans to test for her magic yet, she already knew what the outcome would be. Magic didn't work if you were mentally blocked and right now Bonnie wasn't in a good head space. Being in 1994 got her thinking about a lot of things she would rather not think about like her broken family. Bonnie was just two years old in 1994, so the significance of this period in history was lost on her. More than likely repeating this day had something to do with her grandmother's sacrifice. Still Bonnie couldn't help but pass her childhood home and remember things she had buried deep in her psyche.

Like her father building her an entire swing set one weekend only to push her on it once. The smell of her grandmother's perfume mixed with strong alcohol on her breath when she was still struggling with her drinking. Dragging Mrs. Cuddles downstairs for teatime and nearly cutting her hand on broken glass when she had somehow managed to get the plates down from the top cabinet without climbing. She also remembered her grandmother taking her out one night to see the full moon and pricking her finger just to burn it over candlelight. The last memory she knew must have been the ritual to seal her powers.

Witches were the living embodiment of the saying mind of matter. However, when the mind was in torment matter had a way of resisting. Grams had once warned Bonnie that when she sealed her powers, she had to sever Bonnie's connection to the part of her that could control matter. As a result, Bonnie's connection with magic had a way of severing after overuse. It would take time for the connection to heal. Using magic wasn't like using a gun. A witch couldn't just load the pistol and shoot. Magic was more like a talking tree tuned into a witch's entire being. If there was ever a chance for her and Damon to escape, she would have to make peace with some things to heal. The only problem was Bonnie wasn't sure she could do that.

Bonnie finally made her way downstairs taking in the familiar scent of burning butter and pancake batter. Damon's one and only meal contribution thus far. Somewhere in her mind she was sure Elena mentioned that Damon could cook or had tried to cook but now she wasn't so sure. The man had one recipe and he was sticking to it and no amount of suggesting or bribing was going to get him to change.

Bonnie didn't need Damon to cook for her. She assumed that he was trying to be nice, after all he didn't need to eat yet he sat with her every meal. Bonnie never had regular family breakfast or dinners, but she had always longed for them. So, Bonnie kept eating those pancakes she hated so much.

"Good morning, KiKi!" Damon shouted out from downstairs. It wasn't the first time Damon had made that joke. Bonnie wouldn't be surprised if making pancakes for her every morning was an elaborate attempt at a joke as well. In fact, he had made the same joke every day since they had watched KiKi's Delivery Service, at which time Damon regaled her with his secret animation knowledge that unfortunately spanned the length of a century. Or maybe that's what he thinks fuels witches. Like blood to vampires.

"Ugh! Damon! I told you not to call me that," Bonnie burst through the kitchen door with the usual drama. Today's theme music was Every Breath You Take by The Police. Bonnie had learned that Damon's music choice usually matched his mood. Bonnie's blood ran cold.

"My apologies, Good morning, Bon-Bon," she didn't respond the way she usually did, by denying that nickname as well. Damon's voice and tone were unreadable. He seemed okay, for the most part. She couldn't see his face clearly as he focused on plating the food. Presentation mattered to Damon, being fully cooked was another story entirely.

"Are you going to just stand their little bird, or are you going to eat," Bonnie felt a little relief at hearing her nickname. It wasn't like she was afraid that Damon would snap but she knew that this place was hard on him. Part of her felt guilty for not being able to send him back home but another part of her was grateful that she wasn't alone.

Bonnie's relief was short lived when Damon sat down next to her and never made eye contact. Normally this is the part where he'd make a joke about something stupid, and she'd pretend to be upset and throw another jab his way. Instead, he was picking away at his food.

"So…" Bonnie started to talk but she didn't know what to say. Did he need cheering up? Would he even want to be cheered up? Was he feeling murderous? Would this be my last meal?

"Almost forgot!" Damon got up from the chair quickly and came back with a mug of Irish coffee. Damon had started offering her booze with breakfast once he found out, she liked her coffee spiked. On the days she had nightmares it felt nice to be looser for a bit, but she wasn't sure if it was helping with anything.

"No, thanks," she answered, and Damon's eyes finally snapped to hers and quickly shuffled away. The silence was pregnant with tension, making Bonnie that much more concerned that something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" they spoke in unison. Bonnie stared at Damon. His eyes were trained on her hands.

"Ladies first," he smirked before cutting a small square of pancake.

"I'm fine," she felt her mouth move but her mind had just dejected from her body. She could see Damon's mouth move but processing his words was impossible, because a tidal wave of stillness pulled her in. Bonnie followed Damon's eye contact to her hands, they looked tiny holding the fork. The feeling of metal felt strange as if she were holding it through human gloves.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" Damon's tone brought Bonnie's distant mind to a tingle; she could feel her anxiety rise in panic. Finally, she could feel her hands again, and the burning pit in her stomach. All her thoughts were pouring through like a painful white noise machine.

Does he know? Does he know I am not okay? What if he finds out, I can't get us back? Will he leave? I don't want to be alone. Bonnie's heart was beating out of control when Damon's raised voice broke through her thoughts once more.

"What?" Bonnie asked inhaling sharply. Bonnie's eyes locked on Damon's once more and she was surprised by the depths in his cerulean pools. Bonnie felt the knot in her stomach loosen a bit and a wave of comfort wash over her as he held her gaze steady.

"I said we need to go shopping; did you want to go now or later," his voice was calm, and it reminded her that she needed to breathe.

"Now is fine," she sighed feeling her entire body jitter maddeningly with anxiety. She took the cup of coffee and shot it straight back. Damon didn't look concerned he simply took the cup and put it in the sink along with the rest of the dishes.

"I'll meet you out front in thirty?" Damon headed to the cellar, where he kept his blood supply, and his good bourbon not the commoner whiskey he shared with her.

"Sure," she spoke. She felt numb and on edge as she washed the dishes in the sink.

Pete's pickled flavor pork rinds!

Bonnie read the yellow and red packaging for what felt like the hundredth time. Realistically it was closer to the twelfth time. Damon and Bonnie had been going on their bi-weekly shopping trips since they arrived here roughly forty-days ago.

The snack is terribly labeled, the name is far too long. Damon had assured her that slogans for names was not a common thing in the 90's. Still, she searched the isles of their tiny town store looking for another long winded packaged good. Anything to distract her from the strange aura of anxiety that clung over her head.

"Pete's pickled flavor pork rinds! Pete's pickled flavor pork rinds! Pete's pickled flavor pork rinds!" Bonnie was whispering the words attempting to say them ten times in ten seconds without messing up. She had gotten to four without fault but Pete's pickled flavor pork rinds, would always turn into Beats biggled-flavo-bork grinds.

"Are you having fun over there?" Damon asked putting another bag of tortilla chips in the cart.

"Can you say Pete's pickled flavor pork rinds ten times fast? You get ten seconds."

"Nope." Damon answered placing a jar of salsa in the cart.

"Why not? Not good with your tongue." Bonnie felt the blood rush straight to her head, "I meant not good with tongue twisters."

Damon of course had the dirtiest smirk," do you really want me to answer that," wagging his eyebrows. Damon kept staring at her as if he was waiting for an answer.

"No, Damon," she whined causing his smirk to deepen into a smile. Bonnie poked the deep crease in his cheeks that appeared when he smiled. Well, she tried to poke him, it was more like an aggressive caress. Damon responded by attempting to bite her finger. She responded by jabbing her finger into his rib, showing him who was the boss. Damon simply giggled after she nearly tripped and had to grab the basket to stay steady herself.

"Are you drunk already? Lightweight," he teased her doing the smoldering thing she hated.

Bonnie was indeed drunk; she hadn't realized what a lightweight she was. She supposed in comparison to a vampire her alcohol consumption was probably going to look smaller. But she was sure not even Matt would be this tipsy this quickly.

"Hey, did you want more Jameson, or would you prefer I make a better suggestion. Seeing as Uncle Zach's whiskey choices are… well common. I mean at least it wasn't Jack Daniels."

"Why not just use one of your Bourbons?" Damon gasped audibly. You would have thought I shot someone.

"One no, my Bourbon shan't be mixed with that swill called Baileys. If you want my Bourbon, you must be a big girl and drink it straight. Two, I'm only grabbing this because you need some shit to mix with your coffee."

"Maybe I preferred you not make me into an alcoholic."

"What Bon-Bon, there is no shame in it? No one is here to judge. Besides how else are you going to keep the evil voices at bay."

Bonnie stopped dead in her tracks and spat out," I'm not you Damon, I don't need shit to cope."

Damon turned to look at her eyes piercing with venom, but his tone was gentle," Yes you are like me Bonnie. A lot more like me than you are willing to admit. So, you can run your laps and do whatever you want to deal with the shit inside, but you must deal with it. You can't be up half the night crying or screaming your head off."

Bonnie wanted to die. Of course, Damon heard. He was a vampire he could hear everything. Every muffled whimper and every choked scream. He knew she was struggling perhaps better than most. Bonnie knew Damon would sometimes go places the way she had earlier. She could see him fight it, as he sipped his bourbon over the fireplace. She thought it was sad the way he was trapped in his head too shut off to speak or let his feelings out. Yet here she was doing the very same thing.

Of course, she was crying now. Damon always knew how to cut through her bullshit. It's why she liked him.

Damon walked toward Bonnie and for a moment she thought he would hug her. Instead, he kneeled in front of her. Damon's head was just inches from her crotch causing the hairs on her pubis to tickle. The skin on her shins tightened and goose pimpled from his approximate heat. Bonnie noticed for the first time that Damon had nice eyebrows.

Damons fingers pulled the strings of her converse taught as he tied her shoe. He looked up at her briefly, his perfectly shaped eyebrows framed his eyes beautifully. That was all she could see as his mouth was angled away seemingly hidden under her skirt and his cheeks looked faintly flushed. Bonnie's mind went back to her vagina feeling the unwanted warmth begin to pool. Instinctively, Bonnie licked her bottom lip a habit she had adopted when he put his fingers in her mouth two years ago.

She took a step back, creating a massive distance between his face and her crotch. She was never the super sexual type but since being stuck here she had built up an unexplained appetite for satisfying herself. If it weren't for her complete sudden shift in libido and the fact that Damon was literally the only man on Earth, she knew she would never be feeling this way. Liar!

"Look Bon, I am not saying my way is perfect or even good enough. But maybe it could help you get through this rough patch. At least maybe it could help you sleep at night. We can both agree that not sleeping is not a good thing," Damon went back to being perturbed and headed to the cash register to bag their items.

Bonnie sat back for a minute feeling ambivalent. She didn't want to start a habit that caused her more problems down the road. Yet, Damon was right she had to do something to cope.

Damon studied the cutting board and knives with serious concentration. Bonnie was finally sleeping soundlessly in the living room. Damon hoped his speech hadn't gone down the wrong way. Especially after Bonnie had been so cute with him earlier. All he could do was try and help her maybe even take a few stresses of her back.

So, Damon decided to make Bonnie dinner. The only problem was that he never made the dish on his own. The few times he had experimented with cooking when he was younger his chefs always prepared all the ingredients. He was always they guy in charge of the sauce, making the pasta or grating the cheese. It was silly to say but Damon wasn't the best with his knife skills, as in he had none.

He grabbed the largest knife he could find and started working on sawing the eggplant for the eggplant lasagna into thin enough pieces.

"What are you making Damon?" Bonnie appeared in the doorway catching Damon off guard causing him to drop the knife in his hands.

"Did I scare you?" Bonnie had the most mischievous look in her eyes as she bit her thumb in excitement. It was the oddest habit that drove him completely insane.

"No, just… shouldn't you be taking a nap or something little bird," he said picking the knife back up.

"I was but I heard you brooding over here, and I thought you might need my help," Bonnie got close to him as she peered over at the cutting board. Damon caught a whiff of what he had smelt earlier at the store, arousal. Damon felt grateful that he decided to wear an apron while he was cooking.

Damon hadn't expected to smell and aroused Bonnie Bennett at the store let alone ever. He assumed it was just the alcohol hitting her in a special way at a weird time. I mean who gets turned on by shoe tying? No one. So, Damon did his best to ignore it except well Bonnie hadn't done anything about herself. She simply passed out on the couch and now she was right next to him smelling like a sex buffet.

"I don't need your help Bonanza Extravaganza," he shoved her away a little with his arm hoping that she would take the hint and leave him alone.

"Right and that's why you are trying to dis-member an eggplant with a bread knife?" Damon wanted to protest that the knife didn't matter, the cutting did when Bonnie grabbed his hand over the knife to stop him from carving any deeper.

"Let me," she whispered raspily putting her left hand on his back. Damon was trapped. He felt like electricity was shooting through his entire body. Damon wanted to stay right where he was inhaling Bonnie's scent. Except for her poking his face earlier this was the first time in 40 days that she had touched him. It felt nice.

"Damon you, okay?" she asked, and Damon made the mistake of looking her in her eyes. He felt the veins flash forward for a second, thankfully only a second. Damon took a step back and tried to get a grip over himself.

Damon wasn't sure what to do, he was acting like a school kid with a crush. It's just Bonnie, my friend and only companion in this world.

"What are you thinking about Damon, you should get started on the sauce. I am assuming you are making that eggplant recipe I saw you research in the library last week. Elena will be happy to know you invested time into learning how to make her favorite dish."

Damon sobered up. Without realizing it Bonnie was drawing a clearer line in the sand for Damon. What ever thing that was burning in him for her was never to be entertained or talked about. He needed to get himself together.

"Seriously, nothing escapes you." Except for the most obvious things.

Damon got to work on making the sauce, asking Bonnie to cut open garlic as he went. Damon kept his distance from Bonnie but in the back of his mind he felt guilty. Today he had made everything so awkward. He just wanted to hang out with her. He just needed a friend.

The lasagna was in the oven and they started cleaning up the kitchen. Bonnie was on drying duty but Damon's mind was on Bonnie and how to help her sleep.

"What are you thinking about Damon?" she spoke breaking his thoughts. Does she just know when I am thinking of her? No cause if she did, we would have a problem on our hands.

"Did you want to see a movie at the theatre, or would you prefer we see it at home, tonight?"

"What's showing again?" Damon rolled his eyes and recited the names of the movies for the thirtieth time.

"Dave, Much Ado About Nothing, and a late showing for Groundhogs Day which is a no for obvious reasons. Oh! Also, a dollar showing of Sabrina. If we watch Sabrina at home, we could hit up the cellar and get you plenty plastered before bed."

"Should I be concerned that you keep trying to liquor me up? Wait wasn't Sabrina that movie with Harrison Ford in like the late 90's," Bonnie asked.

Damon stopped in the middle of what he was doing and looked at Bonnie in disbelief.

"Harrison Ford, I hope you meant Humphrey Bogart. You have seen the original Sabrina right Bonnie?"

"Sure," she said obviously lying. Damon didn't know what got into him but he decided to poke her the way she had poked him right in the rib causing her to giggle and swat his hand away. To Damon's great fortune Bonnie was ticklish. Damon attempted to go for a second poke to the ribs and in true Bonnie Bennett fashion she brandished a knife and threatened to chop his finger off.

"The fuck!" Damon's eyes filled up with tears from laughter. He had to use the sink behind him to prop himself up. Bonnie was hiding a muffled laugh, attempting to put her most intimidating face on.

Bonnie grabbed him by the collar," Don't you ever tickle me again or else. You'll be swimming with the fishes," attempting her best mobster impression. It sounded and looked more like a one-eye pirate with constipation.

"Oh no please, don't hurt me," Damon squealed in delight. At this point he was sure he was going to pee his pants.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Bonnie let go of him and went back to drying the cutlery. It was stupid how much fun, Bonnie could be. He had never laughed so much with anyone. Damon rubbed his chest where her hand had been.

You are adorable.

"Hey Damon, can I say something?" Damon got nervous, they were having a good time, he wasn't ready for it to end.

"Sure, Bon," he answered going back to washing the remaining dishes.

"Thank you! I realize in your own way; you're just trying to help. I don't know if drinking really helps me though. I am not sure it really helps you either." She looked so sweet and sincere as she spoke. Damon wasn't sure he deserved the kindness. He after all was the creepy monster whom she was stuck with. Yet in all her innocence Bonnie couldn't see that he wasn't worth the concern.

"Bonnie, like I said, "she stopped him by grabbing his forearm. Someone is touchy feely today. Damon looked into Bonnie's eyes feeling an unnatural ease fall over him.

"Let me finish, I think there are somethings that have to be processed not suppressed. It's taken me a while to figure that out. What I'm trying to get out is maybe instead, we could talk about things. I mean maybe over a drink; you know like friends. And I'm sorry for the way I handled things earlier. I know we don't always get along but I shouldn't have spoken to you that way."

"Friends and I'm sorry. What is this an early birthday present?"

"Wait what? When's your birthday?"

"Don't worry about it. I am like nearly two hundred rather not celebrate that," Damon's cheeks felt strangely warm although that shouldn't be possible. He put his hand on his chest, his heart was murmuring.

"Oh well I was going to make you a lemon meringue pie for your in l pmbirthday, you know since its your favorite and all but I guess I won't."

"Whatever but when we get out of this place don't say a word to anyone. My birthday is in two days, and since I've told you this valuable information you better make me the best lemon meringue pie I have ever had."

"Deal." Bonnie raised her pinkie," you know sense blood oaths aren't your thing."

"Deal."

"So!" Damon's voice echoed in the basement punctuating the silence. Damon and Bonnie had just finished watching Sabrina which had been a lot more emotionally draining then he remembered. Two brothers fighting over one girl failing to live to their fathers expectations and risking everything for love. It was exactly the kind of movie he didn't want to watch.

He wasn't sure if Bonnie liked it or hated it. She hardly reacted at all. He had grown used to her little commentaries throughout the movie. Sometimes it was annoying but most times it was entertaining.

"Umm," Bonnie hummed before taking a long sip of Bourbon.

" Probably, not the best choice of movie," Damon took a sip.

"No I loved it, Audrey is just beautiful. Not sure why I imagined we would be watching the one where she was in Rome but this was nice. Honestly it made me want to visit Rome just thinking about that movie. What was it called? Roman Holiday, that's right."

"You haven't been to Rome?" he asked thinking of the handful of times he managed to find himself in Italy. The place seemed to have a preternatural pull on him. Italy and Scotland.

"No I haven't. Not like I've had the time with school and everything. But I do plan on going."

"Maybe one day I'll take you," Bonnie seemed surprised and intrigued," I mean why not right? It could be fun, we would just have to learn how to fly a plane. But we could make it."

" Ha that would be one hell of a trip."

They both giggled softly until silence overtook them again. Bonnie sighed deeply and Damon watched her play with her drink. Damon was fine with the whole talking about what they felt as long as he wasn't the one doing the talking.

"You know that part in the movie, where they are on the boat and she asks him if he's ever wanted to blot it all out."

"Yeah," Damon answered hesitantly.

" I've been feeling…have you ever felt like that?"

Damon understood, but he wasn't sure what to say. He could be honest and he should be but he was hesitant. How deep down the emotional rabbit hole do we go?

" I honestly don't know anyone who hasn't wanted to end it all or just not wake up at least once in there life. I have unfortunately been struggling with that feeling longer than I have been a vampire and unfortunately living longer doesn't get rid of the feeling. Trust me."

" So, I'm screwed then?" Bonnie joked but Damon couldn't sense any laughter.

" No, just remember that your not alone. Although sometimes shit will be tough you've got me."

"Thanks Damon," Bonnie's smile didn't reach her eyes. Damon knew there was more to her pain but him confessing his own wouldn't help her. She needed to process what she was feeling not attach her feelings to his.

" My problems are my own Bonnie and you and I obviously have different ways of seeing the world. Look I'm not the best at pep talks but I could be a good listener. If you'd like a sounding board to process whatever your feeling so you can decide to do what's best for you, then I'm your guy. But just don't expect me to say anything or share anything okay, I'm not the best with that and I don't think you need that."

Bonnie considered what he said for a moment," I did ask for that earlier didn't I. I guess I just don't know wear to start. So much has happened and well I've never done this before."

"What do you mean?" Damon asked.

"Well I don't know if you noticed but I'm not exactly the type to talk about my feelings let alone think about them to hard."

" Well you're always crying around me."

" That's cause you have this thing about you that just forces it all out of me good or bad."

Damon wasn't sure how to feel about Bonnie's confession. She was being so vulnerable with him right now that he never realized she always had been. Bonnie to him just had a mask of toughness and kindness that she wore like a shield. He never questioned how he could see through it, he just understood it. Damon wondered for a second if Bonnie could see through him too.

Maybe not but her words always stayed with him. Her emotions whenever she did show them always had a way of penetrating his hardened heart. So yeah he had a bit of a soft spot but Bonnie didn't know him yet. Although she was learning and fast.

" So, you trust me then right?"

" I guess," she whispered considering the answer carefully," Yes I guess I do."

" Then start wherever."

" Fine, then how about last night's dream."

Bonnie talked for a few hours and true to his word Damon listened. Bonnie spent most the time dancing around the topic of her dreams that Damon added a few words of encouragement here and there. Ultimately Bonnie finally came to the conclusion that what ever was emotionally triggering her happened long before 1994 and the first time she died. Damon wasn't sure what to say all her dreams seemed to point to trauma she sustained while trying to save others. Some of it was his fault. Sure he could apologize but he wasn't sure what good it would do since she hadn't come to realize it herself.

Bonnie yawned finally sleepy. Damon realized that now probably wasn't the best time, he would wait until later. Bonnie was so tipsy, she could barely stand.

Damon slipped an arm around her waist marveling at how tiny she was.

" What are you doing mister," she protested trying to swat his hand away. It only encouraged him.

" I'm taking you to bed missy," he gripped her waist with both hands.

"I knew drinking with you would be trouble," she spoke trying to imitate Audrey's accent. Bonnie's fist pounded on his chest in defiance.

I adore you!

"Trouble babe you haven't seen trouble," he lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Put me down you.. you big lug," her tiny fists were banging at his lower back and butt. It presented some challenge as he headed up the stairs to the bedrooms.

" What's that I can't hear you over these little Birdy chirps?

"Put me down Salvatore."

"Why Ms. Bennett, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't escort a lady home."

"One who listens."

"Fine," Damon had finally gotten through Bonnie's bedroom door. Taking only a few steps he chucked her on the bed. She hit the mattress with little umph. Bonnies dress had risen a little and Damon tried to ignore the way her dress bunched up revealing the bright pink of her panties.

"Ouch, did you have to chuck me?" she asked," hand me that shirt over there."

"Nothing ever satisfies you," Damon picked the shirt off the dresser. When he turned around Bonnie was under the covers and her dress and panties were on the floor. Damon threw the shirt before turning around in shock.

Since when had she been that comfortable around him? Does she even think of me as a man?

" Damon, do you mind doing that sleep thing you know to help me sleep tonight."

Damon wasn't sure what to do, he was stunned and a little salty.

"Don't ever do that again Bonnie."

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Undress in front of me like that."

"But you didn't see anything did you?"

"Still Bonnie, call me old fashion or whatever but I think I deserve a little more of a warning next time."

"Sorry Damon I am really drunk right now. But still I made sure you didn't see anything so what's the big deal."

One the fact that you had nothing but panties underneath that dress this entire time and I just noticed. Two the fact that you just stripped in front of me like stripping in front of me wasn't a big deal. I'm still a man.

"You'd hate it if one day I'd just turn up half naked somewhere."

" No I wouldn't. If you did what I just did then I wouldn't react. I simply wait for you to get your clothes on. Hell even if you were butt ass naked I wouldn't react."

" You are drunk."

" Yes as you requested. If you have a problem take it up with the manager."

Damon grumbled and was about to head out the door to take another cold shower when Bonnie called him from under the bed.

"I'm sorry Damon. It won't happen again," she chirped fear in her voice.

"I'm still a man Bonnie."

"I know, I'll be careful."

The room was silent Damon wasn't sure he wanted her to be careful, but he needed her to be.

"Please help me Damon," she whispered and Damon couldn't resist her. He had a soft spot that became absolutely mush for her when she whined his name. He knew that if she weren't drunk non of this would be happening.

"Fine but if you are that inconsiderate of me as a man and as your friend one more time then when we leave the confines of 1994 we are no longer friends. So that means no more undressing in front of me, or whining to get my attention or getting so drunk I have to carry you back to your room."

"Promise," she said sounding a little dejected.

"Lay down and focus on your breathing."

Damon ended up succeeding in getting Bonnie to sleep. The only problem was that he woke up spooning her with no recollection of what happened. He didn't wait around to ask Bonnie if she had a clue either. Damon never exited a room so fast in his life. He also never had such great sleep without having sex in his life before either.