chapter rating: teen/pg-13
warning(s): character death
word count: 10,450
summary: Three years ago, Bonnie Bennett died. After waking up in an unmarked grave, she returns to the land of the living with a whole lot of questions. Like how did she die? Who brought her back? Where is Damon? And how long until the cruel grip of Death comes for her again?

-EPILOGUE-

Sixty Years Later

Damon stared down at the grave in front of him, his mouth set in a thin line.

Nyla, his daughter, stood next to him, dressed in all black. Her dark hair was pulled up in a high puff, pretty curls falling across her forehead, framing a face that looked so much like her mother's, save for her bright blue eyes.

She squeezed his hand and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "It was a long-time coming."

"Still." Nyla leaned against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. "He was your friend."

"I prefer the term 'frenemies.' It's an ancient slang word you wouldn't know."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you guys might've bickered like enemies sometimes, but Sheriff Donovan was still your friend. Probably one of your closest."

"I plead the fifth."

"Uh-huh."

(+++)

"Careful, Donovoan. You're about to break a hip."

Matt rolled his eyes, and hopped down off the top of a fallen tree. He dusted his hand off on his jeans and leaned his shot gun back against his shoulder. At sixty-two, he wasn't exactly young, but he was still perfectly capable of hunting down whatever came into his town. With silver-streaked blond hair and a few well-earned wrinkles, he thought he looked pretty damn good for his age, all things considered. "I'm fine. Now where'd it go?"

"Are you sure you should be out here?" Damon swept a long stick around, batting at random bushes and low-hanging branches. "I thought Brianna took up the 'town savior' mantle. It comes with the sheriff's badge, doesn't it?"

"Bri's got her hands full chasing down regular criminals." His eyes caught on a squirrel running up the length of a tree. "You got here pretty quick. Wasn't sure you'd come."

Damon shrugged. "Was getting bored at home. Don't get me wrong, the family is great. But I miss the chaos sometimes. Kind of liked hunting down the latest homicidal asshole."

Matt hummed. "I get that. Me and Sasha thought about moving a few times, but… I don't know. I'm too used to it now. Can't imagine leaving."

"Yeah? Even with those brittle bones of yours?"

With a snort, Matt rolled his eyes. "I drink my milk."

Damon laughed. "Yeah, well, you ever need back-up, feel free to call."

Matt glanced at him, gave a short nod, and said, "I will."

A skittish rabbit suddenly darted toward them, followed by a raccoon, and a frightened deer on their left.

Lowering his gun, Matt cocked it. "Looks like we caught up."

Damon grinned. "I'll try to leave some for you." He darted off then, blurring into the woods.

With an exasperated sigh, Matt shook his head and chased after him.

(+++)

Nyla leaned forward and laid a rose atop Matt's gravestone before tucking her hands away in the pockets of her long, black coat. "How's mom doing?"

"Coping. She got to say goodbye to him before he went. She says he found peace, so that helps."

"She didn't want to come today?"

Nyla took a look around the cemetery; a cluster of people were collected nearby, talking about their former sheriff with affection. Matt was well in the latter half of his eighties when he passed, following his wife, Sasha, and leaving behind three children and six grandchildren, all of whom were shaking hands and giving thanks to the townspeople who'd come out.

"You know your mom; she's worried people might recognize her whenever we come out this way." He shrugged, his mouth set in a concerned frown. "Besides, she's not a big fan of cemeteries. Spent too much time in them growing up."

Nyla hummed. "She has a point. All it takes is one person to pick up on it and we'd have a problem."

"It's all the yoga. It keeps her young." He grinned, and then walked ahead, pausing next to Brianna, Matt's eldest daughter.

Nyla watched as he hugged both of Matt's daughters and shook his middle son, David's hand, offering a few words about how Matt would be missed. Growing up, Nyla had always thought her dad had a frustrating way of being both dismissively sarcastic in words and earnestly loyal in actions. He and Matt had a funny friendship, where they rarely saw eye to eye but could always rely on each other. But then, that was kind of her dad's way. He was the same with her Uncle Stefan and Aunt Caroline. Over time, she realized it was a defense mechanism that he was still working on. But at his core, her father was a good man who loved deeply.

"Did he cry?"

Nyla startled and turned her head to find her mother next to her, wearing a black lace veil to cover her face. "Jesus, Mom…"

"He got a little weepy last night after a little too much bourbon." Bonnie pressed her lips flat. "It's one of those things you don't really get used to, I think. Probably why a lot of vampires try to stick to their own kind. Caring about humans always ends up hurting you in the end."

Nyla stared at her mother's profile a moment. According to her family, Bonnie hadn't aged a day since she was resurrected. Some hypothesized that it was the pregnancy that caused it, but they weren't sure. What they did know was that Bonnie was still very much alive and a witch; she just never looked older than twenty-five. She still had monthly check-ups with a cardiologist to make sure her heart was okay, but as far as medical science could tell, she was as healthy as a person could get. That didn't stop Damon from worrying, though.

"Do you regret it?" Nyla wondered. "Staying a part of Matt's life even after you guys moved away."

Bonnie turned to look at the gravestone and the mound of dirt that lay in front of it. "I knew Matt since I was a little girl… Through thick and thin. We didn't always agree. We had some pretty epic fights, actually. But… He was always there for me when I needed him. So no. Even though it hurts, and it really does, I wouldn't change it."

Nodding, Nyla reached out and took her mother's hand, folding their fingers together and squeezing. "Do you ever wish you were like him? A normal human with grey hair and wrinkles and all that stuff."

Bonnie smiled. "If I was, I'd have less time with you." She turned to look at Nyla searchingly. "What's up? You sound introspective."

"Funerals do that." She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just wondering what it must be like for you. Surrounded by vampires, and half-vampires. It's gotta be a little scary. That maybe one day whatever's keeping you from aging will stop, or even that it won't, and you'll just, I don't know, live forever."

Bonnie hummed. "It did once. I was scared for a long time. About dying again. About being a mom. About everything I had and loved being taken away… But after a while, you realize living in fear isn't really living. I was lucky. I got another chance. I got to be at Caroline's wedding. I watched Josie and Lizzie grow up and have amazing kids of their own. I found your dad. And I had you."

"And my brothers."

"Yeah, they're pretty great, too." Bonnie bumped Nyla's hip with her own. "But you were my first. And I was completely petrified."

Nyla laughed. "Yeah? You?"

"I wasn't the only one. Your dad played it cool at first, but he was a wreck in the delivery room. And such a worrywart. He never wanted you out of his sight. He practically duct taped you to his chest wherever he went."

She grinned. "I think he still would if I let him."

"He tried really hard with you. He never wanted to be like his dad. He wanted to be better. To give you someone you could always rely on."

"Well, he accomplished that. You both did."

"And he did get a little less clingy with Sebastian and Derrick."

Nyla's brows arched. "If you say so…"

"I said a 'little.'"

Nyla was sixteen when her first brother, Sebastian, was born. She was also playing in a basketball game a town over when he entered the world.

(+++)

Nyla high-fived her teammates, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. She jogged off the court to meet her dad, sitting at the bottom of the stands. He was wearing a jersey with her number on it, her gym bag at his feet. Nyla could count on three fingers how many times one or both of her parents had missed a game. She was lucky; her parents were always present in her life. Unfortunately, her mother couldn't get out of a class she was teaching at Whitmore, so it was only her dad there to watch her play.

Her excitement dimmed a little when she found her dad frowning down at his phone instead of congratulating her on her winning rim shot. If she had to name her biggest fan, it was him, so whatever happened, it must've been big.

"What's up?" she asked as she stopped just short of where he was sitting.

"Hey!" He stood and tried to paste on a grin. "Nice shot, Kid. Next game's the championship, right? I'm gonna have to reinforce a shelf in your room to hold that shiny trophy you've got coming."

Nyla's gaze fell to his phone. "Nice try. What happened…?" Her heart squeezed. "Is it mom? Is she okay?"

"She's fine."

Nyla's lips pursed, unconvinced. "Dad, you only make that face when it's mom…"

"Not true. I make it for you, too. Like that time you fell out of a tree and sprained your arm. Or when you took on a vampire on your own and I nearly had a stroke!"

"I know you're trying to distract me." Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to tell me?"

Damon sighed. "Look. Don't freak out, but… the baby came early."

"What!?" Nyla's arms fell, heart jumping in her chest. "Is he okay? Is Mom?"

"They're fine. Uncle Matt helped. Baby's healthy, mom is tired, but okay. Matt's checked them in at the closet hospital to get checked out, but everything looks good." He squeezed her shoulder gently. "Ny, seriously. Your mom's the strongest person I've ever met. And your little brother is half-Salvatore. We're a wily bunch."

Nyla shook her head. "We should go. I want to see her. Them. I'll let my coach know and we can go now."

"Hey, you should stay. Celebrate with your team."

"Dad!" She stared at him seriously. "Family comes first."

Damon paused a moment, and then grinned. "Yeah, it does. Go tell your coach, I'll grab your bag."

Nodding, she ran off, hurriedly letting her coach know what happened and that she'd drive home with her dad before she ran back to where he was standing, her gym bag hanging over his shoulder. Damon held a hand out and, for a moment, Nyla felt like she was a little girl again, holding onto his hand for dear life. She reached out and took it, and together they left the gym and made their way out to the parking lot.

The drive back to Mystic Falls felt like it took forever. She turned music on for something to distract her, but it didn't help. Her knee bounced nervously and she gnawed on the edge of her thumbnail.

"Here's a good one…" Damon reached out and turned the dial on the stereo. "I used to sing this to you when you were a baby."

She paused, and looked to the stereo. "Really? What's this from? The nineties?"

"Eighties. And it's a classic." He started singing, air drumming on the steering wheel, and despite herself, she laughed.

For a moment, her worry abated, and all she could do was watch her dad turn into a total goofball. The way his face scrunched up as he was singing and how he turned the car from side to side, like it was dancing, too. It reminded her of when she was a little girl, standing on his feet as he danced her around the kitchen to Salt n' Pepa and Aerosmith.

When the song faded out, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "So?"

"So, that song is ancient… But, it wasn't terrible."

He grinned. And then a new song started, something a little more familiar to her, and he just smiled as she sang, rocking her shoulders to the beat.

The time seemed to tick by a little quicker then.

Forty minutes later, Nyla found herself running through a hospital, avoiding the chastising eyes of the nursing staff, searching out the room her mother was in. She was half-tempted to use a tracking spell before she spotted the right number on a door and abruptly swerved through it. The rubber bottoms of her sneakers sounded especially loud, slapping against the floor as she walked into the room to find her mother, awake, and cradling a baby in her arms.

"Mom!" Nyla breathed out a sigh of relief and crossed the room in a few quick strides. "You're okay."

Bonnie looked up, her hair a little frizzy and her eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion, but her smile was wide and happy. "Hey," she said, quietly. "I'm fine. How was your game?"

"We won." Damon circled the bed to take a seat on her opposite side, laying down next to her. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at their son, reaching out to stroke a hand over his soft head. "Couldn't wait, huh?"

"He was impatient." Bonnie looked up at him, her face soft. "Reminds me of someone."

Damon grinned, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Nyla crept a little closer, staring down at her little brother with wonder. "He's so small."

"He is. But he's healthy. They checked him out when we got in and he's doing great. He was just eager to meet us." Bonnie looked up at her. "You want to hold him?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know…" She shifted her feet awkwardly.

"Come on." Damon rolled himself off the bed and grabbed up a chair, carrying it around to the opposite side of the bed. He set it down next to Nyla and nodded for her to take a seat. When she did, he reached over, carefully picking the baby up and bringing it over to lay in Nyla's arms. He adjusted her so she was holding him right and nodded. "See? Easy."

"Yeah, he says that now. But the first time he held you, he looked like he was holding a bomb." Bonnie rolled her eyes affectionately.

"And now I'm an expert." He smirked, and took a seat on the edge of the hospital bed, looking down at his two children. "We agreed on Sebastian, right?" he asked Bonnie.

She nodded. "Sebastian Matthew Bennett-Salvatore."

Nyla half-smiled down at him. "Hey, Bas… I'm your big sister."

Bastian yawned in response, smacking his little lips, and Nyla fell in love immediately.

(+++)

Ten years later, while she was away in New York, attending law school, her parents welcomed their third, and last, child, Derrick. Well into her twenties by that time, Nyla didn't get to spend quite as much time with Derrick as he was growing up, but that didn't make them any less close.

(+++)

It was almost eleven o'clock at night and Nyla was well into her latest case when she noticed the blinking message in the corner, telling her she had a video call. Seeing her youngest brother's name, she tapped on it, and smiled as the call connected. "Hey!"

Derrick nodded, his eyebrow ticking up. "Hey. Are you busy?"

She pushed her work aside and shook her head. "No. What's up?"

He sighed, and ran a hand over his curly hair, tugging at it in a way she'd learned meant he was frustrated. "Me and dad are fighting."

"Yeah? What about?"

He looked away and frowned at the wall. "I might've borrowed the car… without telling him… again."

"Der…" She sighed, shaking her head.

"I know." He flopped back against his computer chair, shoulders slumped. "Mom says I have no impulse control and that I get it from him." He rolled his eyes. "Which is a joke, because dad schedules everything."

Nyla hummed. "He didn't always. I mean, all you have to do is ask Uncle Stefan. Dad was kind of a badass… And also maybe a little unhinged for a while. Anyway, he only really got his stuff together after mom."

"And you."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you got the good years. You and Bas got dad when he was at his best. I just get his disappointed looks. Like I'm not living up to the legacy or something. You have your own law firm and Bas is like five minutes away from being a college professor."

Nyla smiled at him sympathetically. "Dad loves you, Der. You just remind him of himself. He's worried you'll follow in his footsteps."

"And what? Marry an awesome lady and have kids?"

"Self-destruct and take a few lives with you. You're half-vampire, and sometimes I think you take after that more than you do your witch side."

"Warlock," he corrected. "And I've never killed anyone. I'm careful when I feed."

"I know you are. Dad's just a worrier. He wants you to be safe."

Groaning, Derrick turned his computer chair from side to side. "I'm not a kid."

"You are. You're fifteen… I know you just want his attention, but this isn't the way to do it. Talk to him. Tell him why you're borrowing his car."

"We don't have anything to talk about. You and Bas were into sports. I don't have that."

"Dad loved sports because we did. He loves books and poetry and music, too. Ask him what his favorite movie is or read his favorite book. The point is, he's there, and he wants to be a part of your life. You don't need to steal his car to get him to see you."

With a long sigh, he nodded. "Yeah, okay…"

"So you'll talk to him?"

He frowned. "I'll try."

"Good." She stared at him searchingly. "You wanna talk about anything else?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"How's school going? What'd you get on the math test?"

His mouth hitched up faintly. "An A."

She grinned. "See! I knew you would. Have you thought about what I said? Architecture could be good for you."

"Yeah. Maybe… I'll think about it."

"What about English? Did you ever read that book?"

His eyes lit up, and he sat forward in his chair, reaching across his desk to grab out the book. She could see the colored page markers that lined the sides and smiled. It wasn't long before he trailed off into a long diatribe about the book and what he liked or didn't like about it. Nyla was happy to put her own work off for a while and instead spend it with her baby brother.

(+++)

Bonnie frowned. "Speaking of your brothers, where are they?"

"Bas is setting up the celebration of life at the boarding house. And Derrick's… I want to say he's comforting Amelia, but it's probably half comfort, half hitting on her."

Amelia was Matt's youngest daughter, who he'd had a little later in life, so she was only thirty-six, but still looked a good ten years older than the forever young looking Derrick Bennett-Salvatore.

"He's his father's son."

"Who is?" Damon appeared between them, an arm wrapping around Bonnie's waist and Nyla's shoulders.

"Derrick."

Damon grinned. "Kid needs to pick his game up. I wore you down a lot quicker."

"The circumstances were different." Bonnie leaned into his side. "Anyway, this isn't the place for that."

"Why not? Kid lost her dad, she needs a little fun to brighten her back up. Derrick will get her laughing, take the edge off a bit." He squeezed Bonnie's hip. "Which reminds me, I'm loving the veil. Very dramatic."

"Shut up." She reached up to fiddle with it, eyes darting around nervously. "I just didn't want to be recognized. I grew up with a lot of these people."

"Yeah, and now most of them are too senile to remember what they looked like in their glory days, never mind what you looked like."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Your sensitivity is mind-boggling."

"Thanks. Hey, why don't we move this little shindig to the boarding house? Lizzie called. She said everything's set up. You think Caroline's wearing one of these veils, too? People are gonna start to talk if you wear it inside."

"I'll figure something out."

Damon shrugged and then led them down to where the cars were parked. Nyla paused to give them each a hug and promised to meet them at the boarding house before she walked to her own car. Taking a seat behind the wheel, she looked over at her side mirror to watch her parents walk down the road together. Damon's hand rubbed up and down Bonnie's back while they walked, shoulder to shoulder. Sixty years together and they were still just as in love as Nyla remembered them being when she was a kid.

Her gaze wandered back out to the cemetery, where Matt's family stood clustered together. As much as she loved and missed her uncle, a small part of her was grateful that it wasn't her family. That somehow, despite the odds, her mother still lived. Young and healthy, with who knew how many lifetimes ahead of her, she would be there, walking the earth, shoulder to shoulder with her husband. A loving, calming force in her children's lives, a supportive ear to her friends, and a voice of reason for her sometimes completely insane husband. But then, her mom could be a little crazy, too. The stories she could tell, about the people she'd met, fought, and survived, were more than just shock and awe. Bonnie Bennett-Salvatore was a fighter, and she deserved all sixty years she'd been given, and a thousand more on top of it. As far as Nyla was concerned, her mother deserved an eternity, and she had a feeling she might just get it.

…

"It's weird, right?" Caroline glanced at Bonnie as they sat next to each other, holding hands on a bench in the garden behind the boarding house. Her daughter Lizzie lived there now. Caroline and Stefan had moved on before town gossip could turn to how young they always looked. "Matt's gone. He's… He's really gone."

"Yeah." Bonnie stared out at the grass. "I thought it'd get easier. I mean, it's been almost five years since Elena. That wasn't easy, but…"

"But we didn't see her as much. Matt was always there. Elena had her own life. I'm not holding it against her. I get why she kept her distance. I just… I don't know. With Matt, you always knew that if you needed him, he'd be there. And now…" Caroline's eyes blurred with tears. "It's life, right? We live, we die, except…"

"Except we don't. Not really. We're here and, barring any unexpected attack that we aren't prepared for, we always will be." Bonnie squeezed her hand. "I get it."

Caroline shifted on her seat to see her better. "I used to beg him to let me turn him. The first time I saw gray in his hair I thought 'oh God, I'm gonna lose him one day.' And I just… I panicked. I wasn't ready. And now he's gone and I look at Lizzie and Josie and their kids and… I don't know how I'll do it. I don't know how I can let go of them one day."

Bonnie said nothing. It wasn't as if she could say she shared the same fear. She always worried her kids would get hurt in some unfixable way. There was so much about them that was human. They skinned knees and broke bones and scared the life out of her a few thousand times. But eventually, the natural progression of life and death just stopped affecting them. Their vampire genes triggered and the aging process slowed down, eventually stopping completely. That half of them was always there. They didn't need blood as much or as often as Damon, but they still needed it. They had no negative reaction to the sun, though she did charm jewellery for them, just in case it came on abruptly. And they had all the upsides to it; the speed, strength, and enhanced senses kicked in during their mid- to late-teens. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Now, despite her grief, Bonnie was relieved. Where Caroline had to worry about her girls and kept a sad eye on grey hair and wrinkles, Bonnie's children had stopped aging at twenty-five, forever young. As witches, Josie and Lizzie would likely live longer than the average human, but the countdown was still very much present. And in future, Bonnie knew she would be attending their funerals too, mourning their loss and holding Caroline through her grief.

It was a long few minutes before Caroline leaned over and dropped her head to Bonnie's shoulder. "Do you think he's at peace?"

"Yeah, I do. He lived a great life, Care. The beginning was rough, but he survived and he built an amazing family and career for himself."

"Yeah," she whispered thickly. "I just feel a little emptier without him around, you know?"

Bonnie did know. She held Caroline's hand a little tighter and nodded.

They didn't say much after that, they just sat together, holding each other up, and were grateful that they, at least, would have each other for a long time to come.

…

Damon found Stefan in his old bedroom, looking through books that hadn't seen a duster in a few years.

"Hiding?"

Stefan looked up and half-smiled. "No. Just… letting them grieve. Figured they needed some space."

Damon hummed, and crossed to a chair. He slumped down into it. "It's weird, right? Time feels different when you can't see it happening to the people around you… Last time I came out here, I was chasing down a rogue witch with Brianna. Matt wasn't up to the job anymore, but Bri's a pretty good fighter."

"Big praise coming from you."

He shrugged. Stacking his hands on his stomach, he looked up at his brother. "How's Caroline?"

"Things like this get her worried about the girls. They're not as young as they used to be. Sixty years goes by quick. Won't be that long before we're back here, burying them…" His lips flattened. "I know it's just the way things are, and I'd never take someone's choice away, but sometimes I look at them, and I can't imagine not having them in my life."

Damon nodded. "I know the feeling."

Stefan looked over at him, and nodded. "You want a drink?"

"God, yes."

With a grin, Stefan crossed to another bookshelf, pulled out a false piece, and retrieved a bottle of bourbon and a couple of glasses.

Damon took the glass he was offered and swirled it around.

Stefan raised his own. "To Matt."

Damon tipped his in cheers. "To Matt."

…

"Mom?"

Bonnie looked up from the platter of snacks she was picking at while she hid in the kitchen. She was relieved to see it wasn't Caroline, who would no doubt keep her from eating anything tasty and push a plate of vegetables and dip in front of her. Instead, Sebastian was near the door, a gentle smile turning up the corner of his mouth, his green eyes soft with sympathy. He was the quieter of her two sons; a soft-spoken man that only raised his voice when he was on a football field, calling plays. The opposite of his younger, more rebellious brother, who fell on the more artistic side of things, preferring a guitar or a sketch book to any sports ball.

Sebastian was all defined lines, tall with broad shoulders and a handsome face that shared his father's jaw line and high cheek bones.

"Hey." She dusted her hands off and sat back. "Everything looks really nice. Thank you for putting it together."

"Aunt Caroline did a lot of it. Or told us what to do anyway." He crossed to the island to take a seat on the stool next to her. "I'm sorry about Uncle Matt. I know he was really important to you."

"He was." She rubbed her hand over his shoulder. "You know, he delivered you… I was on my way home after teaching an occult class at Whitmore. You were early, so I thought it was just Braxton Hicks. I had to pull over though, the pain was just… overwhelming. I called your dad, but he was out of town. Nyla had this big basketball game she was playing in and we wanted at least one of us to be there to watch it. It was only an overnight thing and we weren't expecting you to come early, so we didn't think it was a big deal."

"Because Nyla was right on time."

Bonnie smiled. "She was. But you… You were impatient. Like your dad."

He chuckled.

"So, I pulled over on the side of the road and called Matt. He turned the siren on and raced out to meet me on the highway."

(+++)

"Bonnie!" Matt was parked sideways in the middle of the road. He left the door of his truck open as he leapt out and crossed to meet her.

She was half out of her SUV, bent over, trying to breath.

"Hey, I'm here. What do you need?"

"Ohhh God…" She pushed on her knees and looked up at him, her face stricken with pain. "An epidural would be great. Any chance you brought one?"

He smiled and shook his head. "I'm all out."

"How about your hand? Mind if I break that?"

He held it out for her, grimacing as her fingers wrapped around it tightly. "Do your worst."

She huffed out a laugh and squeezed down as another wave of pain flooded her. "He's coming. I can feel it. Matt, he's too early!"

"Okay. Just breathe."

"I can't. I can't do this. He's not supposed to be here for another few weeks. We're not done the nursery. Damon's still trying to convince me we need a bigger house. I am not moving while I'm still waddling!"

"You've got a cute waddle, Bon."

"Not the point." She shook her head, damp curls clinging to her face and neck. "I don't want to move. I love my house. I grew up in that house. I raised my daughter there. I mark her height every year in the same place my dad used to mark mine. There's a spoke missing on the stairwell from where Nyla got her head stuck and Damon panicked and just tore it right out. There's a dent on the hall in Nyla's room because she's thrown her basketball at it so many times. That's my home, Matt, and I want to bring my son there. I want to put him in the same crib in the same room that I put Nyla in sixteen years ago. And I want to do that three weeks from now, because this boy is not supposed to be here yet."

"Yeah, well, I don't think he got the message on that one." He knelt to better catch her eye. "Listen to me, okay? This little guy is coming and we can't stop it. I need you to trust me. I need to move you 'cause we need some space."

Bonnie blew air out between her lips and stared at him, brow furrowed. "I don't know…"

"I will get you through this, I promise."

Swallowing down her fears, Bonnie nodded.

She let Matt lead her over to his truck, where he popped open the back and helped her climb in. The seats were pushed up, giving her room to lay down. It took some maneuvering, but eventually, she was laid out, legs propped up, duffle back propping up her back, and not a whole lot to cover any modesty she might have left.

"Nyla didn't come this fast," she panted. "She was so stubborn. She took hours."

"I'm thinking this guy's gonna be more like minutes."

"What!?"

"Just breathe, Bonnie. Focus on that, okay?"

"He's not ready. He needs more time."

"We don't have any more time. It's now or never. When I say push, I need you to push. Okay?"

Gritting her teeth, Bonnie nodded.

Matt was right. Sebastian was born in a matter of minutes. And he came into the world screaming.

Matt let out a strangled laugh and grabbed up his jacket, marked with Sheriff along the back. He wrapped Sebastian in it and cradled him gently. "Hey, Little Guy… You're okay. Things are probably a little scary right now, but don't worry. You've got a good group of people looking out for you, starting with your mom… Yeah… There you go." He handed Sebastian over to Bonnie and grinned as she cried, rubbing her fingers over his soft head. "See? What'd I tell you?"

Bonnie looked up at him, tears glinting in her eyes. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Any time."

(+++)

"You never told me that story."

"I've got a lot of them." Bonnie smiled at her son. "A lot about you and Nyla and Derrick, about Matt and Caroline and Stefan, and even more about your dad."

"Yeah, but dad likes talking about that kind of stuff. He'd make all your adventures into stories when we were kids."

"Yeah, the cunning witch and the handsome vampire, right?"

Sebastian laughed. "Always."

Bonnie nodded.

The kitchen door swung open then and Stefan walked inside. "Hey… You guys hiding out?"

"A little. How's the party going?"

"It's winding down. Mostly just close family now." He walked around to take a seat on Bonnie's other side. "What are we talking about?"

"Stories. I told Sebastian about when Matt helped deliver him."

"Oh yeah? What about the time you and Matt took out a nest of ghouls living under Wickery Bridge?"

Sebastian smiled and shook his head. "I don't know that one."

"It's a good one."

Bonnie's nose scrunched up. "Still a little bitter about that one."

"It's been forty years."

"Did you have to put stinky ointment all over your body for two weeks straight?" Her brows hiked. "No! I didn't think so."

Stefan ducked his head as he laughed, grinning as she slapped his shoulder. "Okay, you're right.

"Thank you."

To Sebastian he said, "Anyway, a better story was when she took on a gang of baby vampires when she was seven months pregnant. Not by choice, obviously. Mostly just circumstance that time. Do you know that one?"

Sebastian shook his head.

Stefan looked to Bonnie, who rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Okay, so it was way back when she was pregnant with Nyla, and Bonnie was, well, let's just say she wasn't in the best mood."

"Two words…" Bonnie raised two fingers and looked between them. "French. Vanilla."

(+++)

Bonnie was just trying to get some late-night grocery shopping. As in, she had a craving for bacon and ice cream that would not leave her alone and Damon was busy at Mystic Grill. Truth be told, she might not have even told him about her craving. He was a little… overprotective since he'd found out about the baby. He started baby-proofing basically the same hour she showed him the six pregnancy tests she had stashed in her purse. And he'd been on a safety kick ever since. She loved him, she loved the enthusiasm too, but she didn't see the big deal. He had work, she had feet, and she just wanted to feed that nagging hunger.

It wasn't a treat she could share with Caroline either, so she couldn't just call her up out of the blue and ask her to go to the store, not if bacon was involved, and it was vital to the process. Bonnie's latest pregnancy snack consisted of putting bacon in the oven until it was perfect and then using it as a serving spoon to scoop out and eat her ice cream. French Vanilla was the best, but she'd tried it with a few others. Just to be sure, she'd also picked up strawberry, orange creamsicle, and cookie dough.

Unfortunately, in the process of picking up said treat, she'd noticed a few other things she'd needed, which was how she walked out of the 24-hour supermarket with four bags, two weighing down each hand. The worst part wasn't even the waddling, or the fact that she'd had to put up with the cashier's amused and somewhat pitying smile. No, it was the fact that her feet felt two sizes two big for her running shoes. She'd given up her favorite boots already. The only thing that felt good these days were the ugliest orthopedic shoes she could find in the store. Caroline couldn't even look at them. But they worked. Usually. Tonight, they were doing her no favors. Which meant, despite the fact that she was in possession of her favorite midnight snack, she was beyond cranky.

Bonnie used the button on her keychain to unlock her car from a distance, the lights flashing and a small beep sounding to let her know it was ready. She was halfway to her car when she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. Frowning, she turned her head, but there was nothing to be seen. Ready to chalk it up to a wonky street lamp, she kept going, but then she saw it again, on her opposite side.

Bonnie stopped, her mouth flattening, and turned her head to take another look around. This late at night, the only other vehicles in the parking lot were the few people still working inside, which meant there was a whole lot of dark, empty space around her. A shiver ran down her back; a prickle of awareness making her skin warm and then cool in rapid fashion.

A part of her wanted to run; race to the car, lock the doors, get home. Another part of her was less scared and more pissed. Who the hell thought it was okay to sneak up on, and possibly attack, a noticeably pregnant person?

A voice, that sounded suspiciously like Damon, told her not to risk it. Whoever it was, they would deal with it later. She could call Matt from the car and have him check it out. So far as she knew, there were no recent threats they needed to be aware of. So either she was seeing things or someone unfamiliar to them had swept into town.

Feet screaming at her, Bonnie started walking again, eager to just get home and get her bacon in the oven.

She made it three more steps before a rush of air went by her left, and the two bags she was holding were suddenly on the ground, the plastic sheared apart.

Bonnie looked down to find an overturned bucket of ice cream spilling across the pavement. And she saw red.

"Okay." Putting her hand to her hip, she turned her head, eyes narrowed. "Cut the dramatics, asshole. That was the last container of French Vanilla. That was my favorite!"

Eerie laughter broke out behind her, and Bonnie turned to see three vampires walking toward her, smirking. The one in the center was lanky, with shaggy brown hair and cold grey eyes. He was wearing biker boots and an over-sized leather jacket. Frankly, judging by how young and overconfident he was, she'd put her money on it being pleather.

A girl stood just to his left, seemingly no older than sixteen, with blonde hair tied in a side braid and winged green eyeliner. She eyed Bonnie's stomach meaningfully as she said, "Not sure you really needed it, honey."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Oh, I needed it. I didn't drag my pregnant ass out of a perfectly comfortable bed to waddle down here and not walk away with ice cream."

"Guess we could've saved you some money if we got here earlier." Another guy, not much taller than Bonnie, grinned at her, showing off his fangs.

"Mm-hmm." Bonnie pulled her phone out from the pocket of the hoodie she was wearing, thumbed through her text messages, and paused on the group chat she had between both Damon and Matt. "Hey, question, have you met our local sheriff yet? He's something of a vampire enthusiast."

The three kids – and that was what they were, barely out of their teens and certainly acting like it—looked at each other, confused by her reaction.

Bonnie typed out where she was, with the addition of 'pick up and possible disposal. Haven't decided yet.' Sending it, she returned her attention to them. "Listen, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here. And really, that's a favor, because the fact that you think it's okay to harass anyone, let alone someone that's pregnant, I mean, that's going too far. Sure, there's a need to feed, but there are limits. I don't know if you flipped your switch or you just think this is okay, but trust me, this is going to be a wake-up call."

"Yawn. I'm tired of this bitch already," the girl said. "Can we just eat her?"

Bonnie's eyes narrowed. Her mouth curled up slowly, in a humorless, sharp smile, and then she waved a hand.

With a shriek of pain, the girl fell to her knees, gripping her head tightly, blood seeping from her eyes and her nose. Watching her struggle for a beat, Bonnie then turned her attention to the two startled boys.

"Did you know witches were even stronger when they were pregnant? It's this funny phenomena where they take on the power of their unborn child, caring for it, building on it, so that when their child is born, it can be passed on to them. Personally…" She started walking toward them, grocery bags swinging at her side. "I think it's a protective measure. Mother nature lending a hand, you know? Either way, I was pretty powerful before I was pregnant. I could tell you stories about taking on Original Vampires and ancient hunters and a few resurrections. So yeah, pre-pregnancy? Definitely powerful. But during pregnancy…" She nodded, grinning. "This kid is going to be strong. Awe-inspiring even. Mix those two together and…"

When the girl's crying got to be too much, Bonnie turned her wrist, forcing the girl's head to abruptly twist, her neck snapped. Quiet filled the empty parking lot then.

"Let's just say, you two are in some serious trouble here."

The shorter boy held his hands out defensively. "Wait. Please. It was a mistake. We didn't know you were a witch."

"And that makes it okay?" Bonnie threw her arm out.

The man sailed through the air like a rope had wrapped him around his center and plucked him off the ground. He crashed against the brick wall of the supermarket and fell to the pavement in a heap, unconscious.

She turned her gaze on the last boy then, who didn't look so confident now that she'd dealt with the others. "I was weak, right? That's why you attacked. You saw some poor little pregnant woman and thought she'd be the perfect victim. Can't run, scared to fight just in case it hurt the baby. Easy mark."

He stared at her moment, and then nodded, veins rippling across his cheeks. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Not so weak now, am I?" She thrust her arm out and the man stumbled, reaching for his throat as an invisible force began to choke him, the pressure caving in each side of his neck. "We have a catch and release policy around here, when people deserve it. I'm not biased to most vampires. But I make exceptions when I think it warrants it. And you…" She shook her head. "I'm not seeing much to save here."

Falling to his knees, he clawed at his neck, staring up at her from scared, bulging eyes. "P-Please."

Bonnie pursed her lips and continued to glare down at him. Finally, she jerked her wrist, and he fell sideways, neck snapped.

Headlights flashed across the pavement in front of her then, and Bonnie turned to see a Sheriff's truck pulling up. Matt jumped out, gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. "You okay?"

Bonnie frowned. "I dropped my ice cream."

He blinked at her, and then let out a snort. "Seriously?"

"That was the last of the French Vanilla, Matt." She pointed back at the melting ice cream. "That one tastes the best—"

"With bacon, I know." He shook his head and sighed. "I have some at home, all right? I'll bring it over after I clean this up."

Bonnie looked back at the two bodies in front of her, and further head, to the third. "They're not dead. Just out of commission."

He nodded. "I've got vervain in the truck. I'll call Damon. We'll figure something out."

With a sigh, she turned on her heel and walked back to the mess on the ground, gathering up what was salvageable of her groceries and adding it to the other two bags. "Okay. I'm heading home. Let me know how it goes."

"I will. And hey…" He looked over at her. "Nice work here."

Bonnie grinned. "Anytime, Sheriff."

With that, Bonnie made her way to her car and headed home. She'd well-earned her bacon and ice cream treat.

(+++)

Stefan grinned, nodding to his nephew, who turned wide eyes on his mother.

Bonnie shrugged. "Cravings when you're pregnant are no joke."

With a laugh, Sebastian shook his head, and then passed her a plate of bacon-wrapped scallops.

Bonnie brightened, and grabbed one up happily. She winked at him as she popped it in her mouth.

…

Damon stood near the drink cart, watching as Amelia Donovan sighed, rolled her eyes at Derrick, and walked off, leaving him to stare after her in befuddled longing.

His youngest son was good looking; curse of the Salvatores, Damon figured. Derrick was average height with narrow shoulders, a sculpted face, and warm green eyes. But for all that he was handsome, his emotional maturity was a little on the underdeveloped side. He'd struggled a lot more than Damon's first two kids, trying so hard to carve out a unique place for himself in the family, always wondering where he fit. Truthfully, Damon thought he took after himself a little too much. Considering his own difficulties throughout life, he felt for the kid, because he knew first hand that path was a hard one.

Damon crossed the room to meet him, tipping his head in the direction Amelia had left in. "Far be it for me to judge, but you might be coming on a little strong, Kid."

Derrick frowned. "Because it's a funeral or just in general?"

"Both." Damon handed him a glass of bourbon. "You and Amelia have known each other your whole lives. You'll get there if you're meant to."

"Easy for you to say, you married mom at like twenty-five."

"Twenty-eight for her, and I was over a hundred and eighty years old, thank you very much. I had to wait a long damn time for her."

Derrick rolled his eyes. "Whatever. The point is, you and mom have been together for like a century. Your advice is a little outdated."

"I take offense to that. Before your mom, I was a ladies man… Kind of." He shrugged. "There was your Aunt Elena for a while there."

"Ew."

"But before that, definitely a ladies man."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "If you say so..."

"You know, sometimes I forget you're thirty-four, because you still act like that rebellious fourteen-year-old who kept taking my car out for a joy ride."

Derrick smirked. "You shouldn't have such a beautiful car if you're not going to enjoy it."

"I do enjoy it. Frequently. With your mother."

"Gross." Derrick glared at him.

"She's very bendy for eighty-five years old…" He tipped his head thoughtfully. "Yoga does wonders."

"Okay, stop."

"You have to get creative in cars with such small seats, so—"

"All right, I'm sorry. I won't be such a dick."

"That's all I ask."

Derrick sighed, his shoulders hunched and his mouth pressed in a frown.

Nostalgic, Damon's mind wandered to some twenty years ago.

(+++)

Derrick was fourteen the first time he borrowed Damon's car without asking. Despite how much trouble he got in, he'd still done it a handful of times after. A year later, Damon was still trying to figure out how, exactly, to nip that particular rebellion in the ass.

Sitting at his desk with the doors to his office firmly closed, he glared tiredly at the open books spread out in front of him. The figures were all blurring together and he was regretting putting it off until this late. His latest bar wasn't the Mystic Grill; in fact, it was a far cry from that first hometown endeavor. They'd pulled up stakes and moved twice already, setting down roots just before Derrick started school so he'd have somewhere to grow up without the suspicious curiosity of the rest of the town. Eventually, around the time he finished high school, they'd end up moving again. But for now, Damon had a business to worry about.

Usually, he would've called it quits already. He'd already spent three hours on this and it was long past time for him to climb into bed and pass out next to Bonnie. It was almost one in the morning and he wasn't looking forward to having to drag his tired ass out of bed at six tomorrow. But the books needed to get done first. Especially since he was taking the weekend off to spend some quality time with his family. It was Stefan's birthday, which meant Caroline was having a party and she'd demanded the presence of the entire family. Nyla and Sebastian were flying in and they were all gathering at the old boarding house. Damon was looking forward to it. Any chance to get all of his kids in one place worked for him.

A knock sounded at the door then, and Damon looked up, rubbing a hand over his face. He frowned, double-checked the clock, and then called out, "Yeah?"

The door popped open slowly, and Derrick ducked inside, gaze on the floor, his shoulders stiff. It was exactly how he always looked when he got into trouble for something. Kindergarten, when he glued his own mouth shut ("He bet me five bucks."). Third grade, when he popped a kid in the mouth for making fun of his hair ("They kept touching it, dad!"). Sixth grade, when he released all the frogs from the science lab ("It was a jail break, and I'd do it again."). And last year, when he stole Damon's car for the first time ("I just wanted to see how it'd feel.").

Damon felt a headache coming on just looking at his son's somehow dejected and simultaneously defensive figure. "Okay. What'd you do?"

Derrick's mouth set in a line. "Who says I did anything?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you?"

"Yeah. But why do you have to say it like that? Like you expect me to screw up."

"Der, this is my patient face." He pointed at himself and leaned back in his chair. "It looks a lot like my impatient face. Because they're the same face."

Derrick rolled his eyes. "I noticed."

"So tell my patient face what you did, and please don't say it has anything to do with my car."

With a grimace, he shrugged, and turned his gaze to a shelf covered in various family pictures. Bonnie was a camera fiend. Damon swore she got a picture of just about everything that ever happened. And when it came to their kids, their great accomplishments littered every available surface of their house. In his office alone, he had at least ten picture frames spread out. Nyla holding a championship trophy for basketball. Sebastian at his first pee-wee football game. Nyla graduating from law school. Sebastian teaching English to kids in a small village on the other side of the world. And there in the middle, Derrick with a 2nd Place ribbon for his fifth-grade spelling bee. Derrick beaming at the camera, missing three teeth and holding his first guitar.

"You and Uncle Stefan were really into football growing up. I know, because he used to tell me about how when he missed you, he'd go to football games, because you taught him how to play, and it reminded him of better times." Derrick stared at the pictures a long moment. "I tried to play when I was younger. Bas tried to teach me, but I wasn't all that good. Always fumbled the ball, wasn't much of a runner, didn't have the strength for tackling…"

"So, football's not your thing." Damon shrugged. "You don't need to run or catch to play guitar."

"Not much of a teacher, either. I'm not patient, not like Bas or mom or even Nyla."

"I wouldn't call your sister patient..."

"She is when she needs to be. I get bored too fast. It's like…" He shook his head. "I've got too much energy in me. I get restless and the next thing I know, I'm doing something stupid." He pulled the sleeves of his shirts down over his hands and balled them into fists. "Music gave me somewhere to put it. You can lose a lot of time just trying to get the tune you want."

Damon stared at his profile, shoulders still a little stiff, but not so hunched. "What's going on, Derrick?"

He turned to look at him, and then away, out the window. "I took the car again. It's not messed up or anything. I didn't even mean to. I just kind of… I don't know. I was coming back from Jessa's and it was sitting in the driveway. So, I took it. Drove it around town for a while. When I got back, your light was on. Figured I'd tell you now before one of the neighbors rats me out."

He hummed. "That the only reason?"

"That I'm telling you?"

He nodded.

"I don't know. Kind of."

Damon stared at him, waiting.

With a long sigh, Derrick walked over to a chair and slumped down into it. "I talked to Nyla last time. When I borrowed it and you got pissed at me. She said I should just talk to you."

"About?"

"Everything. About why I keep taking the car."

"You've figured out why?" Damon tapped his pen against the edge of the desk. "Does it have anything to do with feeling like you don't fit in with the family?"

Derrick looked up and finally met his eyes, holding on this time. "I don't, do I? I'm the black sheep in a family of half-vampire, half-witch weirdos."

Damon's mouth kicked up, amused. "I think you fit in more than you think."

He rolled his eyes, unconvinced.

"When I was your age, keep in mind it was the 1800's, but still… I was a lot like you."

"You stole your dad's carriage or something?"

He snorted. "Not exactly… I just, I did everything my dad didn't want me to. My dad didn't care about much, definitely not me or Stefan. Just his social standing, how the rest of the town saw him. So, I figured the only way to really get back at him was to make him look bad. Like he raised some jerk for a kid. It wasn't much, and it probably hurt me more than him, but… it was all I had."

Derrick frowned. "So your dad, he was…"

"Let's just 'asshole' would be an understatement." With a sigh, he sat forward at his desk. "Later, long after he died, I was still that angry kid trying to prove I didn't care what people thought about me. Truth was, I did care. I cared a lot. I just never figured out how to live up to expectation. So, I figured if I lowered people's expectations, at least I wouldn't be letting anyone down. Also not a smart move. The point is, I did a lot of dumb things because I never dealt with what was really going on."

"What was that?"

"I wanted someone to care. And I wanted to be good enough for them to care."

Derrick's knee jumped uncomfortably and he slumped down a little more in his seat. "So, how'd you change it?"

"Took a lot of time, and some good people. Stefan never really gave up on me, even when he probably should have. And your mom, she was a big part of that. And then you and your brother and your sister came along. That was a big eye-opener." He shrugged. "Anyway, if your mom was in here, she'd tell you to just love yourself, 'cause you're a unique little snowflake and everybody matters. But your mom isn't here, so I'll just say this… You're my kid, Derrick. You're more like me than you probably deserve. But you lucked out here, because you've got two pretty awesome parents who'd burn the whole world down for you." He stared at him seriously. "I don't need you to play basketball or football or to be patient or teach anybody anything. I do need you to stop borrowing my car. You get restless, call me, we can figure out something better to do. All right?"

Derrick hesitated a moment, but eventually nodded, short and sure.

"Cool. Now." He pushed up from the desk. "Are you hungry? I'm starving. I skipped dinner and I'm seriously craving pancakes."

Slowly, the corner of Derrick's mouth kicked up. "I could eat a pancake."

"See?" He hooked an arm around Derrick's neck and pulled him into his side as they left the office together. "Your father's son."

(+++)

Derrick knocked back his bourbon in a quick shot and sighed. "Can we go back to the part where you were giving me advice on Amelia?"

"Sure. Don't be a dick, respect her choices, if it's meant to happen, it will. That help?"

"Not really."

"You'll live." He clapped Derrick on the shoulder and then handed him his empty bourbon glass. "Your mom's not hiding in the kitchen anymore. I'm gonna sneak her off to a dark corner and make out with her."

As he walked away, Derrick called after him, "You're evil and I hate you."

He grinned. "Love you too, Kid."

…

Bonnie was standing just outside of the parlor when Damon's hand slid over her hip and turned her to face him.

"Hey!"

"Hi." She looked past him to where a brooding Derrick. "How's he doing?"

"Still learning the finer art of romance, but he'll get there." He redirected her down the hall then. "Wanna get some air?"

"Looks like you do, so sure."

They made their way through the kitchen and into the backyard. The sun was setting, sending a purplish glow across the sky. A cool breeze rushed past and Damon shrugged his suit coat off, hanging it over Bonnie's shoulders. She tucked her arms through the sleeves and took his hand as they walked further into the yard.

"How are you doing?"

Bonnie smiled faintly. "I'm sad. Matt was one of my first friends."

"He was a good guy."

She nodded. "He really was."

"You know, it doesn't feel so long ago that I thought it'd be you… One day, I'd be standing over a grave, looking at your name carved in stone, and that would be it. No more chances. We'd used them all up."

Bonnie tugged him to a stop and turned, her hands settling on his sides, over the soft fabric of his vest. "I thought it would be, too. I told myself sixty years was plenty of time. I'd get to spend it with you and see our daughter grow up. I could've been happy with that."

"But…?"

"But this is better. Considering how many times we came a little too close to death, it feels like we cheated and got away with it."

Damon reached up, stroking her hair back from her cheek. "Yeah, we lucked out, didn't we? Three awesome kids, a spectacular sex life, and no time limit…" He grinned down at her. "Regret marrying me?"

She tried and failed to smother her smile. "Not exactly."

"Good." He pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Me either."

Bonnie hugged his waist and laid her head against his shoulder, smiling as he started to sway them side to side, leading them into a quiet dance.

"It's weird…"

"What is?"

"I'm kind of grateful that I died."

"Yeah?"

She tipped her head back to look at him. "Yeah. In a strange way, my life didn't really start until it ended. When I came back, everything changed for the better. I changed. I started putting myself first and going after what I really wanted. I was so scared back then that it would all end, but it made every second feel like a gift, and I never wanted to waste it. I would've been okay with sixty years because every day was a blessing. It still is. And Matt, he felt that way, too. He loved his family and his job. We were both lucky. He just had the wrinkles to show for it."

"And the grey hair."

She smiled. "And that."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to another sixty…" He twirled her around in a circle, their fingers hooked together above her head. The heels she was wearing brought her closer to his height, so when he drew her back in, their hearts lined up. "What do you say, Bon-Bon… You up for it?"

"Just sixty?"

He stared down at her. "To start."

Biting her lip, she nodded. "I can do that."

"Good." He laid his forehead against hers. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Bonnie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her heart beating steady and sure. "I know."

end

note: it's finished! this is both a relief, and kind of sad. once i started writing little blips about the children's lives and bamon's family i started to get sad i couldn't write more for them. but, overall, i'm really happy with how this story developed. i liked exploring bonnie, her grief and her anger and the many ways i feel the show has failed her as an individual, the bennetts as a whole, and bamon as a duo. i can't say how the series will end, but i'm happy with the fics i've put out and will continue to write. i love this ship, i love the journey they were on, and i hope i did them justice in my own imagining of how they could be.

thank you all so, so much for reading. a huge thanks to those of you who were so kind and giving and donated to my ko fi account. it's such a big help in my journey to get a new computer, especially now that i'm without my own. i'm so touched by your generosity and your positive and supportive messages. i really appreciate it! ❤

thanks again for and, if you can, please try to leave a review!

- Lee | Fina