After Caroline's phone call Stefan found himself unable to quietly sit at Elena's side like a reputed watchdog, too aware and worried about what was down in the boarding house. First, he didn't trust Kai; second, Damon was volatile, and third, someone needed to look for Alaric. He was alone out there, dealing with his wife's body and a collection of prematurely related witch corpses. As for Elena, they already knew that physically there was nothing wrong with her, the doctors even went so far as to confirm their theories by doing every test under the sun. Tests that didn't require days of waiting for results. They even established she wasn't in a coma—there was far too much brain activity—and that she appeared to be asleep, dreaming and peaceful. Stefan could still hear them talking about it, conferring with one another down the hall, trying to find some plausible explanation that made actual sense. They hardly had time to dig any further.
"Any changes?" a middle-aged nurse named Margaret asked kindly. She'd been popping in and out all night.
Stefan shook his head and released the hand he'd been holding. "None. And I don't expect there will be."
"Don't lose faith. Your friend is in the best possible hands. Doctor Egan has over eighteen years of neurology behind him. If someone is going to find the solution – it'll be him."
Stefan smiled and pushed out of the chair with a nod, wishing he could believe that and take solace in the woman's encouraging words. Elena deserved a break and some happiness. But not like this, not in a way that deprived her of her life and made it impossible for her to grow old with her brother and her friends.
"I thank you for everything you've done for us," Stefan said as he approached Margaret, reaching out to take a gentle hold of her shoulder, preventing the nurse from leaving or stepping aside to make room for him. She frowned, temporarily confused by the physicality as their eyes met. "For her. But Doctor Egan has advised that there is nothing else he can do for Elena and that she is merely taking up bed space. She'll be going home tonight."
Margaret raised a hand and squeezed at his left arm compassionately. "I'll get a ward assistant to help you."
"Thank you, but there is no need, Margaret," Stefan replied, attentively meeting the nurse's helpful brown eyes. "But I would like to speak to Doctor Egan. There are a few things I need to clear up before we leave."
"He isn't around. He drove to Bon Secours College in Richmond. Unfortunately, he had a seminar there in the morning that he couldn't cancel. He'll be back towards the afternoon. I could find someone else? Doctor McKenna, maybe?" She prepared to go, her eyes scanning the halls as if searching for a familiar face.
"No, it's okay," he said, averting her aim, trying to decide what to do. Could he leave? Kai was gone. Tyler was contained. Lily was still out hunting for her heretics. What else was there for them to fear tonight in regards to Elena's safety? Nothing. "I have somewhere I need to be for a while, if you could get things ready so that basically all I have to do is walk in and grab her, that would be appreciated."
Margaret grinned as though he said something funny. "We aren't a drive thru, Mister Salvatore."
"I meant no offense. It's just been one of those nights."
"I'll see what I can do," Margaret answered, preparing once more to leave. He grasped her shoulder before she could, seeing her brows draw into a frown.
"If anyone out of the ordinary comes to visit her, anyone at all, anyone you don't recognize—"
"You'll be the first I call," she added, the compulsion having been swept into play as soon as they had arrived.
"Thank you," he replied and released her, offering her a small smile. Stefan turned back to Elena and moved to stand beside her bed, yet again taking her warm hand. "I'm sorry that I have to leave," he said in a tone that assumed she might be listening, that maybe she could hear what was going on around her and that it was driving her as crazy as the rest of them. "That you'll be here alone, but you'll be in good hands with Margaret." He smiled fondly, trusting for a second that he could hear her encouraging voice in his head, stressing the importance of being there for family, telling him to be there for Damon and to find Ric.
It's what she would have wanted, he knew, and what she would have done if the roles were reversed, and that made it easier to leave the hospital some five minutes later.
(I'm trying to help him, Damon. I'm trying to set things right.)
Damon heard Bonnie say it over and over, like a broken record stuffed inside his head that refused to shut off or skip to the next stupid remark. He couldn't believe her, couldn't trust that Bonnie—of all people—was opposed to ripping that magic sucker's head clean off his shoulders. And why, because Bonnie was feeling guilty? Because she believed that enough blood had been spilled? Why now? Why after Kai had gone out of his way to ruin their lives? And more importantly, Elena's? Damon only just gotten Elena back! His Elena! They'd only just been given the chance to start a new life together, to be human, to…
He didn't even want to think about Damon knew if he did, he'd sink deeper into despair and start to despise the witch. Bonnie didn't deserve that, she was his friend and one of the few people he now couldn't live without. He needed to remind himself of that, to remember that this wasn't her fault—that he, too, played a big part in it—and that karma was once again making him its bitch.
Damon curled his hands into tight fists. He craved to break something, to tuck into the nearest available artery and feed until he blacked out. Instead, he forced himself to focus on his rescue mission.
He took off, dashing for the cemetery he'd been gutted in and where, he was certain, he'd seen Alaric last. He could remember feeding Alaric his blood, but what if that had been conjured up in his head amidst that freak's torture? No, it couldn't be. Caroline was there, if Bonnie didn't see him, then her blonde friend would have sniffed him out.
He called Alaric once, taking a shot in the dark, hopeful that his friend might answer, and then called Stefan.
"How's my girl?" Damon asked as soon as the line opened to reference a connection.
"Unchanging," Stefan replied, sounding as happy about reporting that answer as Damon was to hear it.
"No hope, then?" Damon responded, feeling a cold hand clutch at his heart. "What ever happened to telling lies to make someone feel better? Are people too good to do that, anymore?"
"They have their best neurologist on the job," Stefan said, echoing Margaret's previous attempt at comfort, trying to abate the distress he read in his brother's quip and to adhere to his sarcastic enquiry.
"It's too late for that now, Stef. Try leading with that next time. Besides nothing less than a voodoo priestess is going to do the job," Damon jeered. "And regrettably our Priestess is all out of voodoo."
"Give her a break," Stefan said, understanding his frustrations. "Bonnie's dealing the best she can."
"Dealing? She's harboring that psychopath in our basement as if she's starring in her own whacked-out version of Pit Bulls and Parolees. That's not coping, Stefan, that's Bonnie being her decidedly annoying self!"
There was a lengthy pause as Stefan refused to concede to his growing temperament, a silence that comfortably stretched between them for a moment while Damon calmed down.
"Where are you?" Stefan asked, assuming Damon wasn't at the Boarding House any longer. He couldn't hear Caroline in the background, nor Bonnie, for that matter.
"You can stop brooding. I'm not going to wring the little witch's neck if that's what you're worried about."
"It's not," Stefan retorted, confident that, with all the time his brother spent with Bonnie in 1994 and everything he'd done in attempt to get her back, he wouldn't simply throw their friendship away.
"I'm at the cemetery. It's where I ran into Ric and the magical samurai last, and where I suspect he'll go back," Damon answered, sniffing the air, his ears straining for any sound of his friend's heartbeat or sound in general. "Call me if there's any change," he instructed as he hung up, picking up on what sounded like a scraping of metal against gravel. Was someone being buried? This late places like these used machinery and otherwise, but this sounded distinctly clumsy, like someone was struggling.
Damon ran toward the sound at full speed, using the cover of night to make things easier and stopped short of Ric's car, surprised to find himself back at the barn and his friend trying to dig a hole on the side of the road.
"Ric?" Damon hailed, trying to gain Alaric's attention. "What are you doing?" Not that there was any need; the back of the open truck, Jo's body and the ongoing attempt to cut through gravel said it all.
"I should have taken her away, I should have left when that first attack happened," Ric mumbled to himself.
"What attack?" Damon asked, wanting to get him talking and away from what he was doing.
"She trusted me. I told her we'd leave. That I'd get her out of here and that she'd be safe."
Damon had no way to respond and was at a loss for words.
"I failed her," Alaric murmured, raising the shovel once more, scowling as the metal slid off the surface. He took cautionary step, then another and eased onto the soft greenery just out of sight, his eyes frequently darting to the back of his trunk to make sure Jo was still there, afraid he'd look away and she wouldn't be there anymore.
It was as if he didn't even see Damon.
"Let me help you," Damon said, seeing the blood on Ric's hands from the way the wood violently slid out of his palms. He could hardly feel it or anything, and as Damon knew from experience – that in itself was wrong.
"No," Alaric snapped, answering him directly for the first time. "Just leave us alone."
"I'm not going anywhere."
For the next ten minutes Damon watched Alaric stab, step and toss sand and grass aside. He was getting nowhere fast and nor did he look like he'd be relenting anytime soon. Alaric could hardly hold the handle.
"You need to stop," Damon said, pushing away from where he'd been leaning against the unbroken part of the formerly sturdy fence. Alaric was doing himself more damage than good and this wasn't helping anymore.
Alaric said nothing, still digging, still working as though he were a human zombie.
"Ric," Damon attempted a second time, ambling toward him, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
Alaric didn't hesitate, his elbow snapping back to connect with Damon's nose, temporarily making the vampire see stars, and followed up by sweeping the shovel beneath his legs, unexpectedly knocking Damon's ass to the ground, driving the piece of wood into Damon's gut before he could even think to defend himself.
"I don't want you anywhere near her!" Alaric hissed, twisting the wood in his stomach, driving a pained cry from Damon's lips. "I don't want you anywhere near me!" He started away from Damon, leaving him to writhe in agony and went to collect Jo.
"Alaric… stop—" Damon gritted out, trying to forestall his friend's second escape, his hands weak, unable to push the wood out of his stomach, blood once more collecting in his mouth as he coughed.
There was a gust of wind, his eyes rolling as unconsciousness began to seep in and then the pain was gone, a clang filling his ears as metal connected with something thick.
Damon raised his head, surprised to see his younger brother looming over Alaric with the bloody shovel in hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Helping you."
"I had it covered."
"The ground, maybe," Stefan added, crouching beside Alaric, checking his head to make sure he hadn't injured him too badly. Damon joined him seconds later, rubbing at his stomach absently, feeling anger kick in at the reminder of how awful this night had been and how off his game he was.
"You okay?" Stefan asked, peering up at Damon.
"Can we not do the therapy session?"
Stefan said nothing, submitting to his request, and picked Alaric up, his eyes shifting to Jo. "We should find a car and get them to the boardinghouse."
Damon needed no further reason to walk away and started to search for their ride, his eyes scanning the mass graveyard of cars. In no time, he was driving one of them home.
"Feeling better?" Caroline asked when she heard Bonnie saunter into the parlor. She was seated on the couch facing the basement, legs crossed and rested upon another chair, a blood pack and chips positioned beside her.
"Damon around?" Bonnie asked, arching her eyebrows a little as Caroline peered over her shoulder.
"No," the blonde replied, trying to figure out if that would make a difference in her friend's approach.
"Then yes. A little," Bonnie responded, walking around the back of the sofa, lifting her feet onto the chair beside Caroline's as she sat down, snatching a handful of cheesy chips from the bowl in the blonde's lap. "Where'd you find these?"
"The pantry."
"Are you sure they're not stale?" Bonnie popped one into her mouth to try. Caroline unwearyingly awaited a verdict, regular food no longer holding the same taste it used to. She was a poor judge now. "Mhmm," Bonnie commented, assuring her the chips were fine as they fell into a comfortable silence.
"Are those Elena's boots?" Caroline queried, her eyes trained upon the shoes in question.
Bonnie nodded and popped another cheese curl in her mouth, following it up with a swift third and fourth. She was hungry, unclear of when she last ate since today had been quite frantic, even before all the mayhem. "As is the skirt and sweater," she added conversationally, motioning to both items with her free hand. "As soon as I can, I'll stop in at home and grab some fresh clothes."
"You better," Caroline deliberated. "It stinks." Bonnie automatically flicked a chip at her with feigned offense, Caroline's mouth falling open with subdued shock that soon turned playful. "Bonnie Bennett, don't start a war you can't finish."
Bonnie flicked another chip, grinning slightly. "That's for saying I stink."
"That's not what I meant," Caroline replied defensively, plucking the chip off her dress, using her free hand to wipe away the cheese flecks. "You do know these things are saturated in oil? And that it'll stain."
"You'll survive."
"Sure! But this dress and my budget won't."
"Your budget?" Bonnie asked naively, dusting her fingers off on the denim she was wearing.
"After my mother's treatments, hospital stays and checkups, we've racked up a fairly large bill."
"Oh… And you're expected to pay? There isn't any insurance in place?"
Caroline shrugged, uncertain of the answer or where to even start looking for such important documents. "Was there one with your father?"
"I'm not sure. I never looked into it." Neither of them had had the time to do so.
"What of his will?"
"I guess, I get the house? Both, in fact—"
"Both?"
"My grandmother's too."
"Right," Caroline said, the two of them falling silent again. Two years ago neither of them would have dreamed they'd be discussing their parents' deaths or their own before they were even twenty.
"I should probably go check on Kai and make sure he isn't plotting our demise or something," Bonnie said, stealing one last chip from the bowl before moving to a standing.
Caroline was already on her feet before she even registered that the blonde joined her. "Is that such a good idea?"
"You're babysitting me now?"
"No," Caroline replied, looking rather troubled and guilty.
"Okay then," Bonnie murmured, gliding past her, heading for the basement with a determined gait.
Caroline appeared in front of her, barricading the way. "It's just that Damon doesn't think it such a good idea you go back down there."
"Since when do you listen to Damon?" Bonnie asked, a light smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Since he seems to care about you—"
"I'll be fine. Kai can't get out. Not unless you or I open the mystical door for him."
"Are you sure about that?"
"No. I'm not certain about anything where Kai is concerned," Bonnie reached out to take Caroline's shoulder, coercing her to step out of the way and to the side. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stay up here and hide."
"Bonnie, please—"
"Caroline, I'm not planning to step into the cell with him – not again. I just want to see if he's woken up, that's all. It's a quick in and out."
"I don't hear anything," Caroline said, making a show of straining her ears, a hand lifted and cupped around her right one. "Maybe he decided to take a nap or maybe… I snapped something important."
"You mean like his neck? Yeah. He was within half an hour last time," Bonnie commented as she walked away from her friend, listening to her fall in line behind, unwilling to leave Bonnie alone down there again.
They hadn't gotten too far down the stairs when the front door slammed open and two recognizable voices could be heard from upstairs. Damon and Stefan. They were home.
Bonnie peered back at Caroline, her face indecipherable as she eavesdropped. "They got him. Alaric." She smiled with relief, turning around on the stairs, taking Caroline's offered hand as they quickly made their way back to the living room.
"Where did you find him?" Caroline asked as they sashayed into the parlor again. Damon appeared weary upon seeing them emerge from the basement, choosing to bite his tongue while he cradled Elena in his arms.
Bonnie examined him, rather confused by her presence when they'd decided to let the doctors take care of her a while longer. Damon made no move to explain and Caroline was too distracted to notice.
Bonnie knew he had a lot to say, too, and that their earlier bout was far from over. Damon promised they'd discuss it further and she knew from experience that when it came to proving his point, he wouldn't back down, not until he was sure he'd adequately doused her in his unwanted wisdom. She wasn't thrilled.
"He was just outside the barn. He did a one eighty and went back to bury Jo," Damon replied.
Guilt seeped into Bonnie at the recollection, which, she deemed, had a lot to do with the fact that Ric had seen her stake Kai.
"Is he okay?" Caroline queried, whooshing up to Stefan's side as he laid the history teacher down on the couch. She did a hurried check of his injuries to make sure he wasn't seriously wounded.
"Only if you don't bear in mind that Stefan almost cracked his head open like a ripe melon," Damon remarked.
"I didn't hit him that hard," Stefan countered, sounding a touch exasperated and defensive. "Moreover, he didn't leave me any other choice and tried to kill you."
Damon shrugged, forgoing another jab at his brother's expense, and headed for the stairs. Bonnie could tell he was fuming.
"He'll be okay," Caroline added without looking up and in a soothing tone meant to put Stefan at ease.
"I made sure they gave him a sedative at the hospital," Stefan declared once his brother was out of earshot. "He was really out of it. I think— I think he reached a snapping point."
After all Alaric had been through, Bonnie wasn't surprised. She didn't think any of them were.
She approached the back of the chair and peered down, scrutinizing his slack face, the torment written over it even in his unconscious state. None of the scars Alaric retained tonight were external, they were all internal and caked in his psyche like a wicked footnote. She was doubtful he would ever be the same again.
"Where is Jo? I mean… the body," she asked, concerned that Ric's bride wouldn't get the burial she deserved and that in their haste they'd left her to rot in some hole on the side of the street.
"She's in the back of the car. I couldn't bring myself to leave her there and Ric… well, we thought it best to have some kind of insurance, something to make him see the light when he wakes up—"
"The light?"
"Bargaining chip. He is… in lack of better word: unstable."
Bonnie knew that broken down feeling, that hopelessness of being lost and without an anchor. She wanted to cry for him, to mourn Alaric's loss and simultaneously turn back the clock. But she knew it was impossible.
"Maybe you should take him upstairs?" she recommended, pushing aside the guilt she was feeling. "Damon's room is out of the question and I'm guessing your bed will be occupied with Elena for the night."
"We aren't going to—" Caroline began as she looked up from Alaric, hesitant of what to say or how to go about asking if they would be storing their friend like maturing meat.
Bonnie's heart ached just thinking about it. "No, I—I don't have it in me tonight. I'm kind of wiped," she said.
Stefan gazed at her considerately.
"And… I don't have a spell in place yet. I need to look and dig into things a little further. I'll get to it. I promise."
Caroline breathed a small sigh of relief, glancing back at Stefan who took that as a cue and once again bent to pick Alaric up off the couch. He looked as if he, too, had more to say, but decided against it for now as he started toward the staircase. Caroline followed.
"What's up with Damon's room?" Stefan asked absently, wrinkling his nose the more he became aware of an acquainted smell lingering in the air. "Is that—"
"Smoke?" Caroline contributed obligingly, once they started climbing the stairs. "Yes. But if I were you, I wouldn't fuss. Not now. Damon's already had a meltdown and I would hate to review that again."
"How?" Bonnie heard Stefan as his voice faded. She didn't hear Caroline's answer and nor did she need to. Caroline told him everything. She rarely – if ever – kept anything to herself, anymore. And especially not from Stefan.
Bonnie sat down on the back of the couch, smiling to herself slightly, entertained by the fact that Caroline temporarily forgot she was body-guarding her. Bonnie needed the breathing room, the space to think and decide what she was going to do now that Alaric was in the house. How was she going to tell him what she'd done? How was she going to look him in the eye and make him understand that Kai's death was off the menu?
Bonnie pushed off the couch after a minute's morbid contemplation and headed for the front door, stepping out into the drive, slowly approaching the unfamiliar looking car parked in the driveway. She closed the passenger doors, walked around the front of the vehicle and pulled the catch release beneath the driver's seat, the trunk lid jumping open within a second. She straightened up and started around back, peering inside with bated breath, studying the bride's face through the blue mesh.
Looking at her now, it was as if Bonnie couldn't believe that Jo died. Like with her father, it was too quick to be real. Jo had been so frantic this morning, unable to find her shoes and devastated when she found out her coordinator had gotten sick and was unable to help run things. Panic that lasted all of five minutes before Caroline swooped in and saved the day. They'd all been assigned tasks within minutes. That was also the reason Bonnie stayed behind, why she'd fallen behind on getting ready herself and why she'd been such an easy target. Bonnie didn't know Jo very well, in fact, she'd only known her a few days, but the doctor lady seemed like a pleasant woman, undeserving of the fate her brother offered her. And Bonnie unintentionally signed it for her by abandoning him in nineteen-o-three.
She reached out, driven by some innate force, slender fingers curling into the blue mesh, tugging at it gently to get a better look at Jo's pallid face, seeking some kind of consolation or reason to continue hating herself.
"That should do it," Stefan said, tucking Alaric in while Caroline stuffed Saltzman's bloodied clothes into a plastic bag. They had changed him into Stefan's sweatpants and tee-shirt.
"You think we should stay here and watch him?" she asked. "What if he wakes up and just… just walks away same way he did from the cemetery?"
"No. That sedative shot they gave him should keep him asleep long enough for us to rest some. Besides, we'll be in the next room and will hear if he stirs."
Caroline sighed, propping the bag against the commode. "Too bad we don't have those baby monitors. Maybe we should get some, given how often we need to babysit everyone."
Stefan laughed quietly despite himself. Caroline's scowl softened into a responding smile as she walked into his embrace. And there, with his arms around her, she felt it was safe to loosen up a bit.
"I'm so tired," she whispered against his shoulder and didn't see his face darken a tad with empathy. "And confused… and… and scared. I'm so scared, Stefan." She leaned back a bit to see his face. "I was so scared today – and not even on the wedding – which was awful and horrible – but in that basement, with Bonnie… I… I thought…" The last dam on the way of her flood of confessions held a bit, bending into an arc like a bow with a string being drawn, and then cracked open like a rotten plank under the pressing waves of truths. Her eyes welled up, her lips quivered. "I thought she would die right there, in front of me, and I couldn't do anything, I couldn't… he… he put a barrier on the door, thought she injected him with some stuff… some potion that would bind his magic – well, it didn't! And she was just… he bit her. And she almost passed out. I…" She closed her eyes and let them flow, leaning back into his chest. He held her as she wept.
"But she's all right," he said in a quiet, soothing voice, stroking her hair. "She's fine, you saved her, right?" He frowned to himself subtly, musing about the barrier. How did she save Bonnie?
"I snapped his neck," she uttered finally between her sobs. "Then wanted to rip his heart out, but she said no. She said no, Stefan." Anger crawled into her voice like an afternoon shadow, and when she leaned back again, her eyes were drying up. "She said he deserves a chance. He killed his pregnant sister, all his coven, enchanted our friend out of our lives for God knows how long – and out of Bonnie's life forever – and she decided to give him a chance! How…" Her arms fell off him and she threw them up in a gesture of indignation, then paced across the room. "Damon was pissed beyond nine hells, too. There's something else scaring me," she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes, as though not too certain of what she was about to let him in on. "She had that faint scent on her… I think she liked it."
Stefan considered it, his eyes holding Caroline's. "So he was, what, gentle?"
Caroline winced with irritation and shook her head. "Who cares? It's Kai! The sociopathic vampire-witch murderer! How can she… I don't know. I just… can't." She shook her head again and picked up the bag.
Stefan wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her to him. "She's exhausted, stressed out and confused. She needs to rest a bit and clear her head – none of us got a chance to do that tonight. Bonnie's the most reasonable person we know. She will sort it out for herself, and she won't be deaf to reason. Just give her a few hours of sleep."
"I wish she could be sedated for the night. She was heading back to the basement when you returned."
They closed the door to Alaric's bedroom and strolled down the corridor.
"She won't go there alone," Stefan said. "She's not crazy."
"I thought so, too," Caroline sighed and detached herself from him, shaking the bag in her hand. "Gonna dump this, and you make sure Bonnie and Damon aren't gnawing each other's throats, please?"
Stefan grinned, "It's my full-time job. Don't I love it."
She returned his grin and went ahead and down the stairs. Stefan rubbed his neck tiredly, the smile slipping off his mouth, and headed to the parlor just as he heard the front door open and close.
"Curious to see the degree of the damage your boyfriend caused?" Damon asked from behind her. As always he'd made absolutely no sound and spoke only to breathe down Bonnie's neck. She got the impression that he liked intimidating her – that he liked daunting everyone.
She gasped softly and jerked her hand away, rebounding it off the side of the trunk like a thief who'd been caught with her hand in the register. She winced and took a hold of her fingertips, trying to appease their bruising ache as they healed.
"Careful, Bonbon. Those hands are valuable and still have a job to do."
She wasn't ready for that talk now, tears glistening in her eyes as she walked away from him a second time tonight and attempted to head for the house. He wasn't about to surrender the topic of conversation that easily and deliberately followed her.
"What… you're too scared to face the truth? Too frightened to see the reality of what you're trying to save? And the hopeless battle you have on your hands?" Damon scoffed as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing, his eyes narrowing on the back of her retreating head. "When did you become so damned selfish?"
Bonnie spun around as though slapped, her eyes blazing as his body flew back and banged into the side of the car. "Around the same time I realized that I can't count on anyone but myself."
Damon's eyes hardened instinctually, waiting for her to say something more, waiting for her to elaborate on when that was and to start an all-out war. "I did everything in my power to get you out of there."
She didn't have to think about what he was referring to. She knew. "And you did. If it wasn't for you I would probably still be there. But going back to that hellhole of an island, climbing that rock and descending into the belly of the beast a second time was an eye opener for me." It made her realize how much her life meant to her, how over she was dying for others and how adamant to put herself first. "He was still there you know—"
"Who? Silas?"
"Silas," she parroted, confirming his aforementioned speculation. "How do you think I managed to bring back the cure for you? It wasn't as if it was neatly placed on the floor."
"Then why did you—"
"Because I felt obliged and I wanted you to be happy. And Elena happy makes you happy, right?"
Damon remained quiet, trying to measure the point of her argument and where this was leading for the present.
"There was no way I was supposed to be able to take that magic from that rock—I had none, and yet… I did. How? I don't know, I didn't question it at the time but sometimes I fear that maybe I re-woke Silas."
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
"You told me he was sucked into the great black yonder."
She arched a brow, entertained by his attempt to thwart her unrelenting reservations. "And we weren't?"
Damon pinched the bridge of his nose, negating the repercussions of that and what it would mean for his baby brother, if, by some supernatural fluke, that were to be true. "Is that it then? All of this craziness with Kai stems from your fear of Silas? Of his control?"
Not of his control but of being controlled, dictated to and broken down. That's what Kai was doing to her now, what he'd done by linking Elena and her and threatened to do if he continued on his warpath. She needed to change that. She didn't even see Stefan exit the house in order to become a quiet spectator. "I don't expect someone like you to understand."
"Like me?"
Bonnie observed his face in the porch light, taking a moment to appreciate how affronted he looked, like he was ready to defend his delicate sensibilities for the umpteenth time.
"Like you. You remember Andie, don't you?"
"What does she have to do with anything?" he retorted, pulling a face of utter distaste.
Bonnie shook her head and turned around to face the door, flinching as he appeared in front of her. "What do you want from me?" she spat, irritated by his continual need to crowd her space.
"I want you to tell me the truth."
"What truth?"
"Why Kai? What's with the sudden sally saver routine?"
"I told you. I made a mistake. I'm trying to correct it the only way I can, the only way it seems feasible to me."
"By coddling him? By feeding him and possibly giving him a boner?"
Bonnie narrowed her eyes and pitched him through the front door, uncaring of how he painfully sprawled on his back. She hated talking to Damon when he was like this. He peered up at her as she made to step over him, and unexpectedly grabbed her ankle, sending her tumbling to the floor beside him. She yelped as she hit the wood.
"Not so fun being knocked around, is it?" he asked rhetorically and once she was able to spear him with a glare. He stood and offered her a hand.
She ignored it, bringing her legs beneath her body.
"You want to play nurse maid to that psychopath, then so be it, but don't expect me to do the same," he hissed, his eyes burning into her features with absolute assurance of his intended viciousness. "If I get my shot, I'll kill him."
Bonnie pushed off the floor, laughing softly as she did. "As if I expected anything more of you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're predictable. That you have only once solution to everything in our lives and yours—and that's violence!"
"And he doesn't?"
"He doesn't know any fucking better! You and I spent four months in that place, me – six, and from experience, I can tell you that place has the potential to fuck you up."
"So now we're making excuses for him?"
"Of course not! But no human is born evil. Maybe, just maybe I'm coming to understand that. That his family, his situation and whatever else took a toll on him. You're not the only one with issues, Damon!"
"And I never claimed to be!"
"Could have fooled me," she uttered.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"Not clearly. Is there something else you want to say, Bonnie Bennett? Something else on your mind?"
"You used me."
"What?" Damon asked, arching his eyebrows as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "Used you how?"
"You needed a witch to get you to nineteen-o-three. Kai wouldn't go. I wouldn't go. You spoon-fed me what I wanted to hear, what I needed to hear because you knew how scared I was. You knew I would take the bait."
"You're reaching—"
"Am I?" she interjected, fixing him with a narrow-eyed stare, still oblivious to the fact that Stefan was watching the two of them. "Admit it, Damon. Be honest for once in your fucking life and stop playing games with me!"
"I didn't. I… wouldn't. I just… I thought it would be easier, that with him gone and out of the picture completely that you'd be able to breathe."
"Did you know of the coven?" she asked, recalling a snippet of what Kai had told her in the forest. She didn't believe for a second that Alaric and Damon hadn't been sharing information with one another, they were friends and something as important as Jo's life being linked to Kai's had to be common knowledge.
"Bonnie—"
"Did you know?"
She could see the truth reflect in his eyes in the way he drew into himself, as if he was too afraid to voice it aloud and was instantly reverting to his usual know it all defense mechanism. "I thought that with Jo's power gone, that she'd be okay and that with the supernatural distance the link wouldn't be an issue. I thought it would be okay and that I'd have my mother and you'd—"
Bonnie swallowed the sob forming in her throat, shocked and hurt by how willing her friend was to get blood on her hands, innocent people's blood, people who lay scattered around the barn like dead mice. She clenched her hands into fists, heat spiraling through her like an untamed sea as grief turned into anger. She took an unconscious step toward him planning to inflict pain, seeing his brows draw down in consideration, and felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder.Stefan.
She breathed through her nose, struggling to calm herself down, and read the empathic look of understanding in his green eyes and the warning that another part of herself would be chipped away. Bonnie refused to look at Damon any more than was necessary and turned her back on him, shrugging Stefan's hand off as she headed for the kitchen to get some water, feeling exhaustion seep in with every step.
"Savior Stefan to the rescue," Damon muttered grouchily, turning away to walk toward the bar, snatching the bourbon off the counter. He unscrewed the cap, drinking from the bottle. "Whatever would I do without you?"
"Enough, Damon."
He snorted, taking another hearty swig.
"We need to go. We've a mess to clean up, officials to compel and a crime scene to demolish."
"You mean you haven't done that yet? I thought heroes were capable of doing things in a single bound."
Stefan stared at him straight-faced, appearing before him, snatching the bottle out of his hands. Damon didn't fight him on it, too focused on the inkling of punching him, his eyes narrowing contemptuously.
"Take Blondie," Damon added, reigning himself in, snatching the bottle back.
"Now is not the time for you to lose it. Lily is still out there looking for a bunch of heretics that Kai has brought back with him. Killers just like him, monsters who are going to make our lives hell if we fall apart."
"You couldn't have saved this lecture for Bonnie? She's the one that needs it."
"What Bonnie needs is sleep. What you need is a reason to keep going," Stefan stated reasonably, seeing the look of distaste sweep across Damon's face. He hated being read and more importantly, he loathed Stefan being right. Stefan said no more, gesturing toward the door, meeting Caroline's eyes on the way out. She'd heard their conversation.
"What about Jo's body?" Damon asked on his way out. "We going to tow that around with us as a souvenir?"
"I'll err… take care of it," Caroline said, walking out behind them to retrieve it, feeling her own heart sink at the thought of dealing with the deceased woman and short-lived friend.
Bonnie sat at the kitchen counter, sipping a cold glass of water and nibbling on a few grapes she found in the fridge. She couldn't stop thinking about her argument with Damon. She was so disenchanted, so ridiculously heartbroken – not only would she never see Elena again – but she sensed she'd lost Damon, too. He wasn't her favorite person before, and she certainly knew she wasn't his, but they grew closer, and there was a part of her that missed seeing him every day, that missed his insistent need to ply her with pancake after pancake. It wounded her to think that that part of their relationship was over, that where she could tell him how she was feeling or have him read her bad moods – he couldn't understand how lost she'd been. Bonnie supposed she couldn't blame him – he had a lot to deal with. Humanity-off Stefan, Sheriff Forbes, Lily and Elena. There wasn't room for Bonnie in that equation. Who knew if that would change now? And who knew if she would want it to?
She pushed away from the marble counter, throwing away the grapes castoff stems before returning the rest to the fridge and rinsing her glass – which she left to dry on the rack.
She headed back out into the foyer, stopping on her way upstairs when she noticed Caroline seated on the table she'd used for her legs earlier and that she was holding a lifeless Jo's hand. She looked like she'd been crying.
"One minute she's worried about chocolate staining her dress and the next… she's just gone."Caroline said, sounding tearful, her traditional mask of optimism no longer present. "It happened so fast."
Bonnie knew that people thought Caroline to be some senseless joy machine that barely stopped to register grief, but she also knew it was the only way the blonde could cope. That when Caroline stopped pushing – like now – she would crumble. It happened with her father, something she'd distracted herself from by throwing herself into everyone else's issues. How she could even stand to look at Alaric Bonnie didn't know. He'd murdered her father – not willingly, but something had taken him over, something had driven him to that point and controlled him. Bonnie didn't need for Caroline to voice that out loud to know that it was a continued issue and that he would always remind her of that loss.
"I'm supposed to be faster, better, stronger… and yet I could do nothing for Jo or for Elena…"
"You're not a clairvoyant," Bonnie remarked, squatting beside her. "That's my job. Or at least it was."
Caroline chuckled as if she'd suddenly thought of something amusing.
Bonnie frowned.
"Remember that séance?" Caroline asked.
"You mean the one where I was possessed by a long lost relative hell-bent on thwarting Damon's evil plans?"
"That's the one. I was so scared then." And Bonnie could sense that despite her bravado, even with everything they witnessed and what they knew as vicious certainty – she still was. Bonnie was, too.
"You were terrified? It was your idea!"
Caroline smiled, looking a touch sheepish for putting her in that position in the first place – as if she wanted to apologize for the part she had in that.
"Don't," Bonnie said, dismissing Caroline's sudden insecurities. "If we start going into the 'I'm sorry for not being there for you' spiel we'll be here all night. There is a lot I wish I could have done for you too."
Caroline closed her eyes, swallowed thickly, and stood. "You think she's still around?" she asked, sparing a look around the parlor.
"Who? Jo? Without the other side?"
Caroline nodded slightly.
"I'm not sure. I don't suppose so—"
"Then where do you believe the supernatural dead go now?"
Bonnie took a moment to consider this, as if needed to contemplate a correct answer. "Heaven."
"Heaven?" she repeated, sounding unusually doubtful. "You believe in that? In God?"
"After everything we've seen? Absolutely. It's uplifting knowing once my life is over for good here, on this plane of existence, that I might find peace. Speaking from experience I'm not a fan of the other side."
Caroline frowned, looking wounded by the prospect of Bonnie's mortality, as if she hated being reminded of how many times she'd lost her friend and how close she'd come to the third time tonight. That was enough of that.
Bonnie brought her hands together and stood, too. "We should take her into the basement." Caroline's brows rose slowly, as if she were uncertain of Bonnie's motives. "It's cooler down there and should help with the decomposition and the smell—"
"Oh," she said, flushing slightly. "You'd think I know that by now."
"I think it's safe to say that not being used to death and everything in between is okay."
Caroline scooped Jo off the couch, her eyes fixed ahead as Bonnie lead her down into the basement. They were unhurried and cautious, both afraid that Kai might be lurking in the shadows readying to pounce. She set Jo down on the floor of the second cell. It was devoid of furnishings but far more spacious than the one Kai was in and served as a supernatural suite that held both Elijah, Katherine and Rebekah in the past.
Bonnie crouched beside Jo and helped Caroline smooth the blue mesh over her face again. "Stragulum hac anima," she murmured, closing her eyes.
Caroline straightened up, her arms folding across her chest protectively. She'd never been an enthusiast of magic and if she were honest – it frightened her. She had seen what it can do and was a walking-talking example of it.
"Custodi illam foramen," Bonnie repeated the words with more vehemence, concentrating on Jo and the cloth laid over her, feeling a synthetic wind appear in the cell and sweep around them. Caroline shivered, observing with a mix of awe as the cloth tucked in around Jo, cocooning her frame within its thin fold as though she were a modern day Snow White.
"What did you do?" Caroline asked once Bonnie opened her eyes and appeared to relax.
"I slowed down the decomposition. Ric's going to be out of it awhile and with Elena…"
"There won't be much time to get to Jo straight away," she settled, voicing Bonnie's thoughts aloud.
"Precisely," Bonnie said, pushing off the ground, dusting off her knees as she started out of the cell. She walked ahead of the blonde and stole a glance inside Kai's cell. He was no longer on the floor and had moved to the cot. He'd given up? Bonnie checked the salt line, making sure it hadn't been disturbed, and took a step back, sensing Caroline's weariness, as if she feared Bonnie would take a step inside for some unknown reason as though she had developed a death wish. Bonnie didn't and had no such inclination – not tonight. They needed rest, both of them.
"I'll speak to you in the morning?" Bonnie said, ascending the stairs once more and stepping into the hallway.
"Goodnight, Bonnie."
"Goodnight, Care," she said, throwing her a passing look over the shoulder.
When Caroline was gone, she removed her phone, called Stefan to check on him and make sure he wouldn't need her help with compelling people, with talking to anyone at the station, and then claimed her own bed for the night.
Kai had been floating in that light state of dreaming where no visions that came felt real enough. They were like figures in the mist, ever shifting, changing, fleeting. Before your eye registers a familiar shape, it morphs into something utterly different. In there, between faint veils of fantasies, he heard the thud of a door, then voices that gained more familiarity the more they pulled him out of his slumber. Seemed like the searching party had returned. Kai could hear Damon, Stefan, Caroline and Bonnie conversing as he lay with his eyes closed, still relishing in the relaxation the remnants of sleep provided, unwilling to disturb it by more activity yet.
And what would he need the activity for now, anyway? It still wasn't his turn to make a move in this little game.
It wasn't long before a pair of footfalls descended the basement stairs and shuffled to one of the cells. He heard Bonnie chant in a quiet voice. It was a preservation spell. Probably, for Jo's body. Their conversation after Caroline asked her what she did, confirmed his guess.
"I slowed down the decomposition," Bonnie responded. "Ric's going to be out of it awhile and with Elena—"
"—there won't be much time to get to Jo straight away," Caroline caught up.
"Precisely."
They walked and stood at his cell, peeking in, he presumed. Kai still kept his eyes closed and didn't move. But he could sense her eyes on him. He wondered what she was thinking, what conflicts were stirring in her heart and which side was winning the favors. He had an idea that if he was still breathing, the side he placed his bet on had pretty nice chances on this round of the race.
Neither of them said anything as they turned and left in a bit.
"I'll speak to you in the morning?" Bonnie's voice drifted from the stairs, fading subtly.
"Goodnight, Bonnie."
"Goodnight, Care."
Kai lay still for another hour and a half until all sounds settled into silence disturbed by timid thuds of hearts that were like breaths of the sleeping. He squatted down beside the salt border, holding a hand out, his fingertips touching the crystals. It stung like acid, but he ignored the pain, closing his eyes and concentrating on the energy powering the barrier. Once his focus locked on it, the stinging started to abate. A shiver of pleasure traveled through him along with the magic seeping in. When it was done, he shrugged the denim jacket off, tossed it on the cot and slipped out.
The fire damage appeared to have concentrated in Damon's room, which looked like a special cell of the ninth hell circle. His bed lay in charcoal ruins, no spot untouched by black and stink. Even though Kai had hoped for more destruction, that room alone was a blow hard enough for Damon Salvatore to take.
Kai peeled off the tee-shirt Caroline had ruined earlier and dropped it on the pile of black coals that had been Damon's cupboard before turning his feet to another brother's bedroom. Unexpectedly, it had been turned into a Sleeping Beauty tower. Elena slumbered serenely on Stefan's bed, her hands folded on her belly. Kai fished a fresh sweatshirt out of the drawer and put it on. "Just don't tell Stefan," he mouthed to Elena, smiling as he closed the door soundlessly behind him.
Bonnie's face was not quite as serene as her friend's. A fleeting frown touched her forehead between the eyebrows every now and then as she dipped deeper in slumber and whatever she had been seeing saturated its colors for her inner eye. It was a great temptation to submerge a finger or two into that bowl of her dreams and stir their waters, but Kai resisted. Her own mind would do a better job at that. What he didn't resist was crouching by the head of her bed and watching her sleep for a while. And while she had been watching her dreams, he indulged in his, remembering the feeling of her skin under his lips, the taste of her blood on his tongue, the beating of her heart against his own. He reached out and caressed a finger-pad across her slightly parted lips, a delicate smile glimmering in the corners of his mouth. Her heart picked up a trifle, coaxing a fracture of wakening.
"Plucky little witchling," he whispered into her ear so softly it might as well have been a dream.
A few hair shifted at her temple under a breath of air when he ghosted away from her room.
His palm hummed with energy as he took it away from the salt. Kai had bound the barrier to Bonnie's blood only – he didn't think Caroline would know how to check, nor need to. He put the denim jacket back on over the new sweatshirt and sprawled on the cot for more shuteye with a relaxed sigh.