warning(s): sexually suggestive ; language ; violence
rating: high teen / mature
word count: 11,837
timeline: set in season 6, a few months after bonnie escapes the prison world. pre-season finale, so kai is handled differently here than in the show. no heretic/lily plotline. i originally started writing this while bonnie was still stuck in the prison world and picked it back up to finish. so it's somewhat au-ish.
summary: "You think victims are born? No. Victims are made. And you? You're the perfect victim. Always willing to throw herself on the fire. A martyr. Because at least if you die saving them, they'll remember you."
if you love me (don't let go)
Bonnie calls it a mistake before it ever begins, because she knows, in the end, that is all it will ever be.
In her head, she sees it clearly. She is the in-between, the stop-over, the interlude. She is not forever, not long-lasting, not his other half. She's fun; to rile up, to sleep with, to push past her limits. She's a moment; brief, forgettable, easily ignored.
She calls it a mistake because if she's prepared to make amends, to be done with it, to learn from it, then it can't really hurt her.
The burn of his hands on her skin, leaving trails of heat in their wake—
The coiling desperation in her belly and licking up her thighs—
The taste of his mouth on hers, his tongue still wet from between her legs, teeth and lips plucking at hers—
The soft graze of his nose bumping and sliding along her own—
The sound of her name on his lips, rushed and heavy and thick with want and need and something—
The way their fingers twine, him reaching for her, holding on, keeping her close while they lay beside each other, sweat cooling over their skin—
She can move on from him. She can forget him. She can pretend she never knew what it was like to have him inside her, beside her, holding her, wanting her. She can feign ignorance to the way they move together, like a dance all their own, interspersed with laughter and snarky banter. She can wash away the guilt, because there is none, because it never mattered, she never really mattered, not to him. She never could, never can, never will.
He will always love Elena. First and last. She is the name his mouth will know like prayer; the face he wakes up hoping to see; the hand he reaches for when danger lurks around the corner. She will be his partner, his glory, his 'fuck you' to a universe that always left him second, or third, or not at all.
And Bonnie will move forward, a little fractured but still together, holding on to the pieces of herself that chipped apart, eager to fall, to be stepped on as he rushes out of her bedroom with a barely heard 'It's Elena, she needs help.'
She watches him go, and she tells herself she feels nothing. They were nothing. They were a mistake waiting to happen and, now that it has, she can finally stop waiting.
Bonnie dresses slowly, not eager to face the latest problem, to watch how frantic he is that the love of his life is hurt or missing or any number of things. She hates herself for her lethargy, because as much as she knows caring only hurts… It's Elena. Her best friend. Her sister. It's not Elena's fault that Damon loves her. Not loves her more, because there is no love between him and Bonnie. His heart has been with Elena since the beginning. It never had a chance, never moved an inch, never even glanced in her direction. She is arms and legs and breasts and mouth, but not heart.
(no heart)
She takes a shower, because she needs the smell of him off of her. She needs to forget that just minutes ago, he was breathing on her neck, fast asleep, an arm around her waist, lost in comfort, safe and sound. The honesty of his body, quiet and still beside her, is one she won't know again. One she's already trying to scrub from her mind and her fingertips and between her legs. She can't let him touch her again, can't let herself fall apart hoping for something she already knows is pointless.
She scrubs her body methodically, everywhere he touched, and she asks herself why she ever started this. Why she ever let him kiss her in the first place. Because it was him. It was him who came to her on a night like any other. He kissed her in the doorway of her home, a house that echoed with too much loss and pain and absence.
He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks. And instead of pushing him away, slowing them down, she pulled him forward, until every inch of her was pressed to him, until every inhale was filled with his exhale. For as long as his mouth was pressed to hers— a breath; a second; a brief reprieve— she felt adored. She felt reverence in the fingers that ghosted across her skin. She heard it in the voice that said her name, over and over again, as they moved together in her bed.
It was probably just appreciation masquerading as desire. Appreciation that she'd saved his life instead of her own, that she'd sent him back and gave up her chance. But she fixed it, even with two holes in her gut from an arrow and a knife, she dragged herself to safety, she fixed her own problems, she got herself home. Because she's a Bennett, and she will always save herself in the end.
(she must)
He'd tried to bring her back. They all told her how hard he tried. There were no stories about the others, about how little they tried, about how quickly they let go of her. But she knows. (sheknowsheknowsheknows) She feels it in her bones that they gave up on her long ago. She tries not to let the resentment eat at her, but it does. It settles into her bone marrow and chews away at her insides.
She returned three and a half months ago. It was two weeks before she had him in her bed. She swears, if she closes her eyes, she can still remember every second of it. Soft and gentle and overwhelmed with longing. She wonders, at first, if maybe that was her way of proving she was back, she was alive. Because she was trapped for so long. Alone for so long. She closes the door on the voice that tells her 'if it had been Elena, they never would have given up.' She slams that door loudly, because she knows where those thoughts will lead. Nowhere good. Not for her.
(a garage filling with exhaust fumes)
What matters is she's back. And life resumes…
Bonnie gets dressed, her hair still wet, and she grabs her keys. She drives to the boarding house, humming to the music on the radio, detached and already tired. She wasn't sleeping when the phone rang. She was staring at him, aglow in the moonlight, hesitant but teetering on the edge of hopeful. The phone ringing was probably a sign, a warning. It was time to stop. Time to face reality. Time to let go of could haves or might haves. There were no should haves, because she knew the shoulds. The 'she should be a better friend' and the 'he should be with Elena.' She didn't need shoulds.
The boarding house is tense, but she's not surprised to see Elena is fine, sitting on the edge of the couch, worrying her lip as she watches Damon pace from one end of the room to the other.
"That's not possible," he says, and Bonnie can tell by the look on Stefan's face that it isn't the first time he's said it.
"It is. I know his face, Damon. It was him." Elena sighs, her shoulders slumping. "Look, I know you don't want to believe it, but he's back."
"He's dead," Damon bites out. "I killed him myself."
"Not enough apparently," Caroline pipes up.
Damon glares at her, but Caroline doesn't care. She merely crosses her legs and leans back in her seat.
It doesn't escape Bonnie's notice that Caroline is in a robe that isn't hers, a masculine robe. She knows without having seen it before that it's Stefan's. Caroline's been staying at the boarding since Liz died. She hasn't been dealing well, which surprises nobody. But Stefan's taken it upon himself to get her through it and, despite arguing with him regularly, Caroline is letting him. Perhaps more than Bonnie thought.
"Who are we talking about?" Bonnie leans back against the wall, tucking her car keys away in her pocket. What little information she's heard doesn't do much for her. Damon's killed plenty of people, some of whom (probably most of whom) didn't deserve it. Any number of them could have come back seeking revenge, especially since death seems so temporary of late.
"Kai," Elena announces, with the kind of gravity Bonnie isn't sure Elena deserves, if only because she never had to undergo the torture that Bonnie had.
Sure, Elena had been kidnapped, but, while Bonnie had been mentally and physically beaten down, Elena only had to listen to him go on some long, bordering-on-insane diatribe about the woes of his life and how she was going to help him fix it by being the reason they would hand Jo over. Crazy, but not stupid, the plan worked. Only Damon managed to kill Kai long before he had a chance to merge with Jo. Or so the story was told to Bonnie, who arrived in Mystic Falls a week later, having gotten no personal revenge on Kai, despite it being one of the only things keeping her going during her long stay in isolation.
"So. We kill him again. Throw a party." Bonnie sighs as she moves across the room, taking a seat on the arm of the couch, next to Caroline.
"I don't think it'll be as simple as that. He seemed… strong. We can't ignore the fact that he was dead, which means he came back somehow…" Elena looks around at all of them, trying to instill a sense of worry. "He had powers. He was showing them off. He had to get them from somewhere, right?"
"If he did, they won't last long. He'll need to absorb more. It's not like with the Traveler spell, that kept him going for a while, but when he takes it from a witch, it can only last so long," Bonnie says.
Damon nods. "So, he's either leeching off whatever witch he happens to see, not smart, or he's got someone he can steal powers from anytime he needs…"
"Well, what are we going to do?" Caroline wonders, rubbing her fingers over her temples. "How are we even supposed to find him?"
"Maybe we don't need to find him yet, just the source of his power." Bonnie turns to Caroline. "Call Tyler, ask him if he knows where Liv and Luke are." She looks to Damon then, but he's already caught on.
"Calling Ric, I got it," he says knowingly, holding a finger up as he thumbs the screen of his phone with his other hand.
Five minutes later, she's not surprised to learn that Jo and Liv are accounted for, but Luke isn't answering Liv's calls.
"Problem solved," Damon mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right. What're our options?"
"Locator spell," Elena suggests.
"Kai might be crazy, but he's not stupid. He'll block anybody from finding Luke. He's probably still in town and he wants us to know he's here, which means he'll keep Luke close so he can keep draining him." Bonnie claps her hands down on her thighs and stands. "It's late and he probably just felt like making an entrance. I can put a protection spell on the house, make sure he can't get in while you're sleeping. Tomorrow, we regroup, start checking anywhere he might be hiding, make a game plan." Without waiting for a reply, she starts moving around the house, binding the doors and the windows against anybody who isn't already inside from entering. It takes more energy than it does time. By the time she's done, sweat dots her brow and her throat is parched from chanting.
Caroline appears next to her with a glass of water, smiling gently. "I asked Stefan to make up a room for you. I have some pajamas you can borrow."
Bonnie drinks back most of the glass and then hands it back, shaking her head. "I'm not staying."
Frowning, Caroline stares at her worriedly. "Bonnie, it's not safe out there."
"I'll be fine." Bonnie pulls her into a hug, squeezing, and then steps back, pausing as she looks her over. "How are you dealing?"
"I… I'm okay," Caroline tells her, but her voice is thin and she's too quick to smile reassuringly. At Bonnie's unconvinced look, she sighs, her shoulders slumping. "I miss her. I wake up in the morning and the first thing I do is reach for my phone to text her, but then I remember, half-way through, and it hits me all over again." She shakes her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. You have enough on your plate, and I'm just adding to it. It's okay. I'm going to be okay."
Bonnie pulls her in for another hug, spotting Stefan over Caroline's shoulder, lingering in the doorway to the living room. She can vaguely see Damon further behind him, still in the parlor, a warm hand braced affectionately on Elena's shoulder.
Stefan pushes off the wall and approaches, his head cocked with question.
Bonnie nods at him and, when she leans back, she squeezes Caroline's hands. "It's late. You should get some sleep."
"Are you sure?" She stares at Bonnie searchingly. "I can come with you. It'd be safer."
"I'll be fine, trust me," Bonnie soothes before smiling at Stefan as he reaches them. "Let Stefan take care of you, okay?"
"What about you?"
"Care—"
"I just got you back," Caroline interrupts. "You deserve to be cared for, too."
Bonnie believes that she means well. She knows that, of all of them, Caroline probably missed her the most. Caroline's made it clear, even as she's been grieving Liz, that she wants Bonnie close, wants her best friend in her life, wants to keep her safe. Bonnie loves her for that. But timing is everything.
"We'll talk tomorrow," she promises.
Stefan steps closer then; he gently tugs Caroline to his side, an arm around her, hand rubbing her back soothingly.
"The house will be safe; the spell should hold up at least a week. You won't be able to invite anybody over, but at least it gives you a place Kai can't get to," Bonnie informs him.
When she starts for the door, he makes one last attempt, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay? Like you said, it's safe here."
Bonnie smiles at him, but it's stiff and formal. "I'm sure."
She steps out the door and makes her way to her car. She isn't hurrying and a part of her wonders if she's hoping. Hoping Damon will notice; that he'll stop her or make her stay.
The door to the boarding house doesn't open. Damon stays safely tucked inside. With Stefan and Caroline. And his beloved Elena.
Bonnie pulls out of the driveway and, instead of going home, makes her way over to Grams' house. She doesn't go often, only when she needs a shot of nostalgia. But this time she needs more than that; she needs guidance and wisdom and preferably a little help in figuring out how it is she's going to put down someone like Kai, this time for good.
It's early when she wakes up, she can hear birds chirping outside the window and a heavy, banging knock on the front door.
Pushing off the couch, still dressed in her jeans and wool sweater, she crosses to the door, briefly feeling a pang of disappointment at not smelling the breakfast her Grams' would've had cooking had she been alive still. There's nothing but dust and stale air to greet her and her mouth turns down. The coffee table is covered in books and research, pieces of information Grams had collected over the years. There's a journal of sorts, highlighting the events of 1994, when Kai was sent away to his own personal purgatory. Bonnie spent the whole night reading it, not only on the spell and the ascendant but on Kai himself, on how her Grams thought Kai's powers worked and what kind of an enemy he or anyone of his kind could make against them. It was an informative read, one that was going to come in handy shortly.
When she reaches the door, she's not all that surprised to find Damon on the porch, glaring at her.
She sighs. "It's a little early for house calls."
"Cute." He's brimming with agitated energy, his body one big, overgrown twitch. "You wanna tell me what you're doing, alone, when a psychotic succubus is on the loose? One who, let me remind you, has a tiny little vendetta against you."
"I don't know why. I'm not the one who killed him." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans in the doorway. "Of everyone, he's probably out for you."
"Technically, you did kill him. He just came back to life, shot you with an arrow, and messed up our 'go home, Kai free' plans."
Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, he stabbed me later, so he should consider us even."
Damon closes his eyes and looks like he's trying to drudge up some composure. Still, it's through gritted teeth that he says, "You can't just walk around out there without anybody to keep an eye on you."
"Considering I'm an adult, actually, I can." She shrugs her shoulders high. "Besides, I was doing research. The whole point of running over to the boarding house at three in the morning was to make sure Elena was okay. She's fine. Next step is to start planning revenge in her honor, right? Well, I planned."
He frowns. "Why didn't you do that at the boarding house, where it's safe?"
"Because. I needed Grams' books and notes. She had a whole journal on Kai and what he could do." She offers a sarcastic smile. "The first step to murder is preparation."
His eyes are wide, and just a little crazy. "You could've grabbed what you needed and come back."
Bonnie feels a headache coming on. "Are we just going to argue circles around each other? It happened, Damon, it's over." Her wording leaves lead in her stomach, suddenly taking on an entirely different meaning. "Look, I'll grab what I have and meet everyone back at the house at noon. Caroline looked tired, we should let her sleep in."
"She can sleep when Kai is dead."
Bonnie glares at him, her lips pursed. "Don't start. Her mother died, Damon. If she needs some time and support to get over it, then she's going to get that. I don't care how much Kai annoys you or freaks Elena out. Caroline is grieving."
Scowling, he looks away, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes. "Doesn't mean you have to wait until noon. Get your things, you can come over now."
"Stop ordering me around. I said I'll be there at noon." She reaches for the door then. "Non-negotiable." She slams it in his face.
She's glad he can't come into Grams', the house having been transferred over to her some time ago. He has no invitation, meaning all he can do is yell and shout and bang on the door. But even that he chooses not to do. Instead, he calls, "I'll have my eyes on the clock, Bon-Bon. You don't show, I'll know where to find you." With that, he leaves the porch and walks off to his car.
She watches him go from the front window, waits for the noise of his engine to fade from her ears, and then she turns, taking a deep breath.
She needs to shower, eat, and get dressed. She wants to be at her best when things go down, and she knows they will, long before noon.
Liv looks surprised to see her, Tyler not so much.
He sighs as he opens the door to find Bonnie standing on what passes for a porch at Lockwood Manor. "Where's the rest of the Scooby gang?"
Bonnie shrugs, and then walks past him, her eyes on Liv. She jumps right to the point. "Location spells are generally simple. It's not difficult to block one, and Kai might be a little rusty, but I'm sure he can figure it out. The thing is, when it comes to twins, you can't block the other one out. It's a loophole."
Liv looks hopeful, her wide eyes darting to Tyler, who moves to her side, shoulder pressing to hers supportively.
"What do we need to do?" he asks.
Bonnie stares at Liv, her expression stiff and serious. "Find Luke, and tell me where he is."
"I can't let you go on your own." She shakes her head, wild curls bouncing at her back. "Luke is my brother."
So is Kai, Bonnie thinks, but swallows the acidic words before her mouth can fold around them. "We find out where he is and we make a plan from there. I don't want Luke in the crossfire either. If you can get him out of the way, great."
"But it's not your priority." Tyler stares at her, his mouth flat and his brow knit. "They don't know, do they? That's why they aren't here. You plan on taking him on yourself. Alone."
"That's suicide," Liv warned, her eyes wide. "Bonnie, Kai is—"
"I know what he is." She stares at Liv. "This is simple… Do you want your brother back or not?"
Liv takes a deep breath, her face falling, and she turns to Tyler. There's a moment, a pause, before, he nods.
It doesn't hurt. The idea that Tyler doesn't step up and say 'we should do this together' or 'don't do this, we'll find another way.' People have their priorities, and Bonnie's never been one.
"Okay." Liv nods and then pivots on her heel. "It has to be blood, right? Not hair or something? Because of the twin thing."
Bonnie follows her deeper into the house. "Yeah. Blood."
Liv keeps talking; nervous chatter as she plucks at her fingers and makes her way to the parlor. Bonnie ignores it and keeps her mind focused. In a few minutes, she'll know where Luke is, and from there, she can track down Kai and finally be rid of him. Nervous anticipation swells in her stomach.
It'll all be over soon.
When Bonnie was seven years old, Jacob Fuller put a wad of gum in her hair. It was picture day. She had on her best dress; Grams had bought it especially for the occasion. Bonnie had stood on a stool in the bathroom while Grams did her hair. It was the first time she remembered thinking that it was okay she didn't have Caroline's or Elena's silky, straight hair. Instead, she had a little poof of curls and bright blue dragonfly hair clips; she felt undeniably pretty. Until Jacob thought it would be funny to stick his chewed up, blue Hubba Bubba cast off in her hair while she stood in line to get her picture done. And suddenly she didn't feel pretty; she felt awful and different and a strange mix of sad and angry that she didn't know how to voice or act on.
And then Tyler was there. He punched Jacob so hard he fell on his butt, glasses askew, and lip puffy and bleeding.
It wasn't what her dad or Grams would have said to do. Violence doesn't fix anything, Bonnie. But in that moment, feeling as low as she ever had, she felt her heart crawl back up from the floor and find its place behind her ribcage. Because someone said 'no.' Someone said 'stop.' Someone said 'this isn't right and I'm not going to let you pretend it is.' It was the first time Bonnie realized that you didn't have to take what was happening to you. You could fight back. And if you wouldn't, someone else might. Maybe even should. It was also the first time she looked at Tyler Lockwood, a boy who'd always been just a little too angry and smug and mean for her liking, and she saw someone she might call 'friend.'
Later, it wasn't Tyler that helped her cut the gum out and rearrange her hair into something passable, that was Caroline and Elena.
But after her pictures were taken, where she smiled wide and bright and her tearstains had long dried, she found Tyler outside, climbing on the monkey bars with Matt. She gave him the Oreos from her lunch and she popped a kiss on his cheek and thanked him. He turned pink, wiped his cheek with his hand, and muttered, "Whatever."
He kept the cookies.
And Jacob kept his distance.
"Are you sure about this?" Tyler wonders, his hands flexing on the steering wheel.
They're driving through town, toward an abandoned housing complex that nobody ever goes out to anymore. According to the map they'd used to track Luke, this is where he's being kept, and this is where Bonnie expects to find Kai. The last time she was anywhere near that part of town, it had been for a party. Back when they thought it'd be fun to tear the boards off the windows and doors and fill the dusty skeleton of a concrete house with candles while they got drunk. Eventually, the police broke it up and they figured the woods were a better place to have their parties and bonfires, so they'd left and never come back.
Now, it's there, on the horizon, a milestone of the past and the present.
Is this where she'll die?
The concept isn't beyond her. Death has come calling more than once. She can't say she doesn't fear it. She does. She fears how familiar it's become. Like a hand always waiting for her to reach back. Maybe it was always headed here. The lead up between her and Kai has to go somewhere. When she'd come home and found out he was dead, that he wasn't a threat anymore, it hadn't felt real. It couldn't be. Not when she still carried the scars and trauma like lead weights, everywhere she went, every breath she took. And now she knows why. Because he wasn't gone, not really. He was just biding his time, waiting.
"You know the plan." Bonnie looks to Liv. "Find Luke, get him out, and get as far away as you can."
Liv stares at her a beat, her lips pursed, like she wants to argue, but her survival instinct is stronger. She and her brother have been on the run for a while; they know the drill.
Tyler doesn't.
"What about you?"
"I'll handle it."
He sighs, long and heavy. "And if Kai's stronger than you think?"
"I'm not underestimating him. I know Kai is powerful."
"More powerful than you?"
Yes. Maybe. I don't know.
"You should leave town," she tells him. "Put it in your rear view mirror and just… drive. Don't look back. Get as far as you can." Bonnie stares at his profile; the length of his jaw drawn tight, his shoulders bunched up, anger and stubborn pride swallowing him whole.
"Even if we do, if you don't take him out, he won't stop at Mystic Falls." He looks at her, his eyes dark and heavy. At some point, they stopped being teenagers. Stopped being kids just enjoying life, day by day. They stopped being Tyler the jerk with anger problems and Bonnie the judgmental cheerleader. They'd lost friends and family and themselves in the shuffle. But Tyler had a chance. He could be the good guy that swept in when she was seven years old and put a stop to something that could've evolved into something worse. He could aim that anger somewhere else, make it useful, build a life for himself somewhere else.
"Then I'll take him out," she says, her tone cool and calm and oh-so-certain.
The 'or die trying' goes unsaid.
Tyler seems to know.
He stares back at her a moment, and then deflates. He casts his gaze back to the dirt road ahead, passing boarded up houses on the way. The grass out here is yellow and dry, brittle with a lack of care or interest. This was a neighborhood once, filled with children and families. Kids riding bikes. Flower gardens pampered to perfection. Mailboxes lined up at the ends of manicured lawns. But no more. Now it's a graveyard of what was. Empty shells of homes, haunted by forgotten ghosts, crowding shadows, and cobwebs. Graffiti spills over stucco walls that have long faded and dulled.
The map seems to glow the closer they get to where Luke is, and Liv's hands tremble, rattling the paper.
Tyler reaches over, drops a hand atop hers and squeezes.
Bonnie looks away, casts her gaze ahead to a lone house in the distance, where the door is noticeably bereft of boards.
There you are.
They find Luke inside the house, on a floor littered with garbage and half-burned candles; he's unconscious.
Liv makes a little whimpering noise as she spots him, and then she's there, kneeling next to him, her hands hesitantly touching his face and his neck, searching for warm skin and a pulse. Bonnie watches from the doorway as Liv's shoulders sag with relief. And then Tyler is helping to drag Luke up off the floor. He's dead weight between Tyler and Liv, but they grunt and take it, bringing him outside.
They get halfway to the SUV when they feel it, a shift in the wind.
Bonnie turns her head and sees him. Kai. He has a dandelion trapped between his fingers, twisting it left and right, as he grins at them savagely, walking calmly through a sea of brittle long-grass.
Bonnie's chest squeezes; fear and trepidation spreading through her. Still, her voice doesn't shake as she says, "Go."
Tyler pauses and looks back, but Liv is still moving, hurrying toward the SUV, and when forced to choose, Tyler goes.
They get Luke shoved into the back and take their seats up front before careening back down the dirt road. For home or a hospital or the highway, Bonnie's not sure, and she doesn't want to know. She wishes them well in whatever they choose. She has more important things to worry about.
Kai tisks as he wanders closer. "Come to face the big, bad wolf on your lonesome? Not your brightest moment, Bon-Bon…"
She raises an eyebrow. "Who says I'm alone?"
Kai stops, casts his gaze around dubiously, and then grins at her. "You're just messing with me."
Bonnie stares back at him. "How'd you do it? How'd you come back?"
He brightens then, and flicks the weed away to rub his hands together. "Get this. So, when I snuck back over here I had a lot to catch up on. The internet, Brangelina, Crocs…" He waves a dismissive hand. "Anyway, long story short, I binge-read all the Harry Potter books. I know what you're thinking, 'but Kai, what does that have to do with anything?' I'm getting to it." He points at her. "You remember when you said I was a sociopath? You weren't far off the mark. All the big psychologists would say I don't have a conscience, you know? There's no empathy in these bones... But, it turns out, even the worst of us still have a soul."
Bonnie blinks at him. And then it clicks. "You figured out how to make a horcrux? Seriously?"
"Yes!" A giddy laugh bubbles out of him. "It wasn't easy, and it wasn't exactly like the book. JK's a great writer, but she wasn't out to make a How To on real magic, you know? It just gave me the idea, really. If I could put a little piece of my soul somewhere on this plane, it'd keep me here. Don't get me wrong, Damon put some serious effort into killing me. Kudos to him. But I had a back-up plan and it worked."
"You can't split your soul." Her mouth screws up with distaste.
"No, but, you can put it somewhere else for safekeeping. And that's what I did. As soon as I died, the spell triggered, and instead of sending me off to some new form of purgatory, my soul hid until the coast was clear. My body needed time to mend. Decapitation is a bitch. But eventually, it pulled itself back together and my soul wandered home. Now I'm whole and hale. Ready to go again." He winks at her. "Neat trick, right?"
Bonnie shakes her head. "Don't you get tired of outrunning the inevitable?"
"You tell me. You're getting pretty good at it yourself." He starts to circle her, his good humor fading in favor of that predatory glint in his eyes and the feral upturn of his lips. "That's what this is, isn't it? One last Hail Mary. Kill me and live to see another day. Or don't, and finally surrender… Just between us, which one are you hoping for? It's gotta get exhausting fighting the good fight. I mean, what do you really get out of it? There's no parades, no appreciation, no happily ever after… Poor little Bonnie Bennett, she's got nobody and nothing waiting on her at home. That's why this is so easy for you, right? They're all tucked away somewhere safe while you're sent out to take on the threat to their survival. What kind of thanks is that?"
"You don't know my friends. And you really don't know me."
"Oh, but I do. I watched you, remember? I was there for all four months of your and Damon's little dance with hope and defeat. I saw every fight. Heard every whispered secret. Watched every tentative step you two took, closer and closer together. But he was still out of reach, wasn't he? Still had Elena Gilbert on that bourbon soaked brain of his when all you wanted was for him to just see you." He shrugs. "I don't see the appeal, personally. Elena's pretty, sure, but such a damsel. Then again, for me, power and control is more seductive than any woman could ever be."
Bonnie glares at him, her lips pursed. "I don't need your villain speech, Kai. Let's just get this over with."
"But I came up with some great material. Where was I? Oh, right…" He wags a finger. "See, I don't feel pity like regular people do. You see a broken bird, maybe you kill it to put it out of its misery. But me… I like the misery. I like the suffering. So, that four months of watching you walk that tightrope of love and hate…" He sucks air in through his closed teeth. "Better than television."
Bonnie pivots so she's facing him better. There isn't much space between them now, seven or eight feet at best. She'll need him closer for this to work. But he has to do it. If she does it, he'll get suspicious. She's spent most of the time they've know each other trying to distance herself from him. To walk closer would be a red flag.
"I've got it all planned out, you know? See, I take care of you first. You're my biggest obstacle. Especially now that you've scared Liv and Luke right out of town. So, after you, then I think I'll go for the doppelganger, just to make Damon pay. I mean, he did literally tear my head off. A little bit of overkill, if you ask me." He points at her then, and mocks sincere curiosity. "You think he'll cry over you at all or just throw himself into keeping Elena safe? I mean, it's a toss up, right? Elena is his be all, end all. But you… You were his beacon of hope at the end of the dark tunnel. You made him think there was something left in him worth saving. So, yeah, sure, I bet he'll cry. Shed a good tear or two for reliable little Bonnie before he gets back to his day job of guarding Elena. That's enough though, right? At least he cares."
He mocks a sad face and Bonnie lifts her chin, refuses to let him see the hurt lancing through her.
She doesn't know what Damon will do. Curse her name for lying to him and attempting to do this all on her own. Rant and rave about how of course Bonnie got herself killed, it was all she ever did these days. He'd have her buried in the cemetery between her Grams and her father, pour a little bourbon on her grave, take Miss Cuddles along with him for a while, eventually bury her in a box in the attic somewhere and think back on Bonnie with vague fondness over the years. Another mile marker in a long life.
It shouldn't hurt.
She knew what they were before they were anything.
She'd prepared for that. Told herself not to get her hopes up because it couldn't go anywhere. He was —is— Elena's and he always will be. And that's okay. It's okay, it's okay. Because Bonnie doesn't need to be wanted or loved, not when she's always needed. Which she is. She's always needed when something goes wrong. When someone rolls into town with a new vendetta, a new score to settle, a new target to paint on Elena's back.
Resentment bubbles on her tongue, mixes with the acrid taste of bile, and she swallows it down. She tilts her chin up, stubborn as ever, and raises an impatient brow at Kai.
He ignores it, wanders closer, but then away, to the side, like a little dance of two steps forward, one step back.
"You talk too much," Bonnie tells him, and then she thrusts a hand forward, her fingers twisted and bent.
A burst of power hits him square in the chest, throwing him backwards, ass over head, to roll across the dusty ground. He groans and laughs, and then gets his knees under himself and pushes up to stand. Dusting himself off, he pivots, then takes on a pitching position, like they're in a game of baseball. He winds up and throws—
Bonnie feels something hit her left shoulder, like an invisible dagger. It pierces her shirt and her skin; blood sprays down her chest. Grunting, she turns narrowed eyes on him.
Kai grins. "I was in Little League." With that, he throws another and another.
Bonnie dodges one, but the second hits her in the thigh. It feels like a burn now. A patch of her jeans lights open. She smacks at it with her hands; when the flames die away, there's a hole, with singed and smoking denim marking the edges. Her skin is raw and blistered, oozing in places, and she breathes through her mouth so she doesn't have to smell burnt flesh. It hurts, enough that her vision darkens around the edges for a second. But she presses on.
Rage boils up inside her and she waves her hands, twisting them at the wrist, before thrusting them forward.
Kai flies up into the air, arms and legs waving around, before he's abruptly brought down to Earth. He lands hard, the ground seeming to quake under him.
Bonnie walks toward him, one leg dragging a little. She flicks a hand and he goes from laying on his stomach to sprawled on his back. And then she holds her hands out, fingers pressed close together, and lowers them.
Kai flattens on the ground, an invisible weight pinning him down. He grits his teeth and glares at her before thrusting a folded fist toward her, the length of his arm leaves a trail in the dirt.
Bonnie feels skin tear open on her stomach, and a gush of warm blood spills down, soaking through her shirt and dribbling down her jeans. A cracked cry leaves her, but she shakes her head and keeps her attention on Kai.
"You deserve this," she says, her voice trembling. "After everything you put me through. Put everyone through. Killing you is a mercy to the rest of the world."
He grins, amused. "You keep telling yourself that, Bonnie. Late at night, after Damon sneaks away from your latest booty call, you curl up in a little ball and tell yourself that killing me was the right thing to do. Scrub your conscience clean and sleep easy."
Her mouth screws up and she shakes her head. "Your coven took pity on you. They sent you to the prison world because they couldn't do what they needed to do."
"My coven didn't want blood on their hands. They were weak. Just like you are." He kicks his legs, heels digging into the dirt, trying to push himself up. "I was the freak. The unwanted. The black spot on their perfect record. So, they got rid of me."
"You murdered most of your family!"
"They deserved it." His expression is flat and unfeeling. "What was it you said to Damon? That at least when you were playing with Expression you felt something. You were in control. You had the whole world at your fingertips and nobody could take it away from you." His eyes spark. "They wanted to take everything from me. It was my right to lead the coven. Jo couldn't match me; she was the weaker twin. They took what was owed to me."
"Because you're a power-hungry psycho that would only end up destroying the whole coven." She shakes her head. "I turned to Expression because I was overwhelmed. I was lost. I had nobody."
"You still don't. Look around, Bonnie. You're the only one here. And you know why?"
"I chose this. I—"
"Did you?" He stares at her searchingly. "Or did you do it because you knew this was where you'd end up anyway? If Damon can't kill it, Bonnie needs to fight it. Even if it kills her. Better her than the rest. Right?"
Her throat tights and her burn, tears sparking at the corners. "You don't know them."
"I know you." He laughs, cold and humorless. "You think victims are born? No. Victims are made. And you? You're the perfect victim. Always willing to throw herself on the fire. A martyr. Because at least if you die saving them, they'll remember you."
"Stop."
"Otherwise, where you do fit? Huh? Caroline's got Stefan. Damon's got Elena. Even Tyler has Liv. But you… You're the odd one out. Put away in her little box until something goes wrong and they need you to swoop in and save them. And when it's over, where do they go? Back to each other."
"Shut up!"
"You're an answer to a problem, Bonnie. When life is going well, the phone stops ringing. You're not needed anymore."
She snarls through gritted teeth, "You don't know anything."
"Why do you think I needed to use Damon to spark your powers? Because you're a tool. You only light up when someone that matters is at risk. You would've let yourself wilt and die there if I hadn't come along." He tips his head curiously. "Or maybe you didn't want to get your powers back. Maybe some part of you was happy to spend the rest of eternity with Damon. Is that it?" He smirks. "'Cause that's pathetic."
Bonnie comes to a stop right next to him, staring down at his amused face, something dark and dangerous pooling in his angry gaze. "I matter."
"Maybe." Kai's face twists up right before he thrusts his arm out and wraps a hand around her ankle. "But who cares?"
Bonnie cries out as she feels her power being torn from her. Like a knife to the heart, she feels herself being drained, carved of everything she is and has. Head tipped back, she draws in a deep breath and pushes past the pain. Even as it ripples through, making every inch of her skin burn, every nerve ending sing with agony.
"Kai," she chokes out.
He grins up at her, smiling blissfully. "Hm?"
"You know what… what I learned from Expression…?" She turns her head down to glare at him. "Too much power kills."
His brow furrows.
And then Bonnie's lips start moving rapidly, wrapping around every Latin syllable with ease. A reckoning. That's what this was. Bonnie's well earned reckoning.
He tries to pull his hand away, tries to yank himself free, but he can't. He physically can't remove his fingers from around her ankle. He's forced to take it. Take all of it. Every inch of her power.
She raises her arms and calls out to nature, to The Balance, to her Grams and her ancestors. She calls to them all and she asks them to give to her what only they can. The ability to destroy him, completely and totally.
The sky turns dark above her, swirling and storming, black and grey clouds rolling over each other, blotting out the sun. Rain spills to the ground, turning the dirt beneath them into a thick, viscous mud. In the distance, she hears a rumbling noise, and chalks it up to thunder. Nature has heard her, and it's answering. Lighting sparks; snapping at the ground without mercy. A house catches fire. The dry field of grass starts to smoke. Air whips all around her, making her hair lash her wet cheeks. Trees sway and rattle, banging against her each other, branches snapping and clapping.
When Bonnie turns her gaze back to Kai, she sees true fear for the first time. Veins stand out across his face, dismally grey, squirming like life-sucking worms stuck beneath his pale skin.
"You can't kill me," he chokes out. "My soul—"
Bonnie bends so she's crouched in front of him. "Your soul needs a body to return to. When I'm done, there won't be one." She smiles and reaches down to scrape her finger along the thin, red line across his neck. "You might be able to fix a severed head, but you can't make a body out of dust."
His eyes widen and he grits his teeth at her. "You can't do this. You can't—"
"I told you." She stands then, an avenging angel staring down a defeated demon. "You don't know me."
"Bonnie—"
She throws her hands out and closes her eyes. She draws in a deep breath, full of smoke and fire, earth and water, and she feels the power of it all. Of the Bennetts. Of the slain Parker's. Of the Earth itself. It funnels through her, lights her up from the inside out.
"You won't… survive… this," Kai growls.
And he might be right.
It's too much.
Too much to channel. Too much to have. Too much to use.
But she doesn't care.
No, that's not true. It's that she does care. For her friends and the world and a life she hasn't and can't have. For the Bonnie Bennetts out there, just trying to make it, day to day. For the little girls that grew up desperate to fit in, to be loved, to be wanted. For the daughters and sisters and mothers that sacrificed themselves, every day.
Maybe this was her inevitability. Maybe all those times she just scraped by, or was brought back to life, it was all so she could be here, to fight this one last fight. She would have her victory, her revenge, and it would be beautiful. For every Kai in the world, there was a Bonnie, and she was the proof that her kind would prevail. If she was weak, if she was pathetic, if she was the lesser of the two, then so be it. She would rather be her than him.
Besides.
Blessed are the meek; for they will inherit the earth.
She doesn't feel particularly meek right then, but it's the principle of the thing.
Kai's hand squeezes her ankle and a scream tears from his throat, hollered to the heavens, denied, and sent back to Hell.
A beam of light tunnels down from the stormy sky to strike her chest, and Bonnie feels it. The end and the beginning.
Sound stops. Everything goes completely quiet.
Pain abandons her body. She is a weightless feather, floating.
Her lungs stop expanding. Her heart quits beating. Her veins freeze.
She is not life nor death, but something else entirely.
she is
(Bonnie is 4 years old. She stands on the sidewalk just in front of her house, watching the tail lights of her father's car grow smaller as he drives away. She stands on the tips of her toes and waves and waves until she can't see the lights anymore. She does this every time he has to leave town for work. He promises he'll have more time next week. They'll see a movie; go out for lunch; do something fun. He always promises that.
Grams finds her there. Puts a hand on her shoulder and gives it a shake. "Come on now, Bonnie. Let's go inside. We can read that book you like."
Bonnie nods and takes Grams' hand, walking next to her toward the house.
But she looks back.
She always looks back.
She hopes he does, too.)
.
(Bonnie is six years old, sitting on park bench, a melting ice cream cone in her hand. She's watching Elena smile and nod at something Miranda is saying. She's leaning against Miranda's hip, Miranda's fingers running through Elena's hair lovingly. Bonnie wonders if her own mother has a new daughter. A new family. If she ever wonders what Bonnie is doing. If she ever misses her.
"Your ice cream's melting."
Bonnie blinks, and turns her head to see Matt Donovan standing in front of her. His pants have mud stains on them from the dirt clod war he and Tyler got into earlier. His shoelaces are untied and his shirt is untucked. He stares at her ice cream like he's starving, and his stomach gives a great, gulping rumble.
She can feel wet drops of ice cream landing on her hand and her wrist. She looks at it, half-melted, with the sprinkles sliding down the edges. Shrugging, she hands it toward him. "You want it?"
"Are you sure?" He's licking his lips and his fingers are twitching at his sides, but Matt's nothing if not polite.
Bonnie shrugs. "I'm not hungry anymore."
"Okay!" He takes it and devours half in one bite.
She laughs. "You're gonna get brain freeze."
"Am not," he says, ice cream and sprinkles spattering his chin.
He does.
He hands her back the cone while he rubs his hands against his temples and groans in pain.
Bonnie shakes her head, waits for him to stop, and then hands it back over. "You shouldn't eat so much or—"
He takes another big bite and blinks at her. "You wanna bite?"
Her nose wrinkles. "I'm okay."
He grins, and sinks back against the bench, kicking his legs absently. "Who're you looking at?"
"Nobody," she mutters.
"Missus Gilbert is nice," he tells her. "She brings food over to our house sometimes. Just casseroles and stuff. It's pretty good."
"Yeah?" Bonnie looks from him over to where Elena and her mother are standing. "What about your mom? Is she nice?"
Matt frowns and stares down at the ice cream. "She's okay."
With a hum, Bonnie sits back and folds her hands in her lap. "My mom went away when I was really little."
"Did she come back?"
"No."
"Oh."
They don't say anything for a while.
And then Matt reaches over and takes her hand, folding their fingers together. His is sticky, wet with runny ice cream and melted sprinkles. But Bonnie doesn't shake it off. She holds on until he's ready to let go. That's not until his mom finds him and tells him they have to head hoe. When she sees him at school the next day, she brings him some of her Grams' homemade cookies. He breaks one in half and shares it with her. She decides then and there he's going to be her best friend forever.)
.
(Bonnie is ten years old.
"I'll be home this weekend. You got everything for staying at Sheila's?" Rudy has another conference out of town.
Bonnie doesn't bother telling her dad that most of her stuff is at Grams' at this point. "Yeah."
"Okay. You need anything before I go?"
Bonnie pushes her spaghetti around on her plate and shrugs.
Rudy sighs. "Bonnie, I won't be able to do anything when I'm gone. So, if there's something you need, speak up."
"I'm gonna join junior cheerleading with Caroline. I need to pay for the uniform."
"How much?"
"I don't know. Caroline didn't say."
Rudy sighs. "I'll call Liz, find out from her."
Bonnie pokes at a meatball. "Miranda Gilbert was on the cheerleading squad growing up. She said mom was, too."
Rudy's fork stops moving through his dinner.
"Do you think—?"
The phone rings, and he stands from the table abruptly. "You should get cleaned up. Sheila will be here soon," he tells her before he walks off to the phone.
Bonnie stares at her barely-touched dinner and sighs.
Later, her dad calls his goodbye from the door while she's still sitting at the dinner table. She doesn't go out to watch his car leave. She pokes at her food until Grams comes to get her. She doesn't ask her Grams about her mom or if she liked cheerleading. She doesn't bring up her mom again.)
.
(Bonnie is fourteen.
"You need a boyfriend," Caroline decides.
Bonnie frowns. She doesn't really like anybody. Not right now. She used to kind of, sort of, have a thing for Matt, but, well, he and Elena keep smiling at each other.
"What about Tyler? He's cute." Caroline scrunches up her mouth. "Kind of immature, but I heard he's a great kisser."
Bonnie shakes her head. "I don't really… I mean, Tyler's my friend, but…"
"Yeah. Dating friends can be weird. Plus, we all have to hang out, so…" Caroline walks to Bonnie's closet and starts looking through it, tossing out what she deems as 'unwearable.' Which, so far as Bonnie can tell, is everything. Caroline lists off all the boys in their grade and a grade above. Apparently, dating anyone younger isn't cool. Not that Bonnie wants to date someone younger. Or older, for that matter. She just doesn't see why dating is such a big deal right now. Caroline's already had three boyfriends and, so far, Bonnie can't see the appeal. Most of them are jerks.
"Bonnie!" Caroline snaps. "Are you even listening to me?"
"What? Sorry."
Caroline rolls her eyes. "I'm trying to save you from complete social suicide here. You need to date or you'll become that weird hermit girl that has no friends and no social life."
Bonnie grins. "Tell me how you really feel."
Caroline softens. She tosses a shirt aside and walks over, flopping down on the bed next to her. "I know you think I'm being weird and over-the-top, but I'm worried about you. I mean, you don't have to date the whole football team or anything, but… Don't you want to date someone?"
"Sure. Eventually." Bonnie shrugs. "But honestly, we grew up with these people. I've seen most of the boys in our glass eat paste. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"Not really…" Caroline snorts. "But what are the chances some mysterious hottie moves to town?"
"To Mystic Falls? Unlikely."
"Exactly!" Caroline pushes off the bed then. "Okay, so on a scale of 1 to 10…"
Bonnie just shakes her head. She loves Caroline. She really does. But she's not exactly sure how to tell her that boys just don't look at her like they do Caroline and Elena. Bonnie is different. Part of that probably has to do with living in small town Virginia and being one of the very few black girls around. Racism still lives. And while Bonnie feels like she's doing okay and surrounded by good people, it doesn't mean she hasn't felt the stares or heard the whispers. She stopped wearing her natural hair when it became a little too much and ever since, she's felt a little like she was living under a microscope. But Caroline won't get that, so Bonnie doesn't say it. She just rates the boys in their class and knows she's not going to date any of them. At least it keeps Caroline from digging. For a while, anyway.)
.
(Bonnie is sixteen years old.
Elena can't stop crying, or blaming herself.
Bonnie doesn't know what to say or do, so she just holds Elena while she cries and grieves and asks 'why why why.' Why her parents? Why not her? Why her family?
Bonnie has no answers, even though she's asked similar questions herself. Having a mom that left by choice is a little different from having one taken from her. She doesn't voice that, though. She's not exactly sure which is worse, but she knows that's not what Elena wants to hear.
Elena just wants to be held, to be told it's okay, that it's not her fault. So, that's what Bonnie does. She wipes away Elena's tears, rubs her back, and tells her 'you'll get through this.' It's not much, but it's what Grams says to her on bad days that only seem to get worse.
Elena eventually cries herself to sleep, and Bonnie stays. She waits. Because eventually, Elena will wake up, and she'll need someone to be there.
Bonnie volunteers herself for the job.)
.
(Bonnie is seventeen years old.
Sometimes she doesn't see her dad for months at a time. He calls, but she's started to realize she's an afterthought.
She tries not to think about her mom too much. It's an open wound she pretends is long closed.
Vampires are real.
Witches are real.
She is a witch. So is her Grams.
Life as she knows it gets turned on its head.
Suddenly, Elena is always in danger.
Stefan is simultaneously an ally and a threat.
Damon is a threat. A danger. An enemy. He's a monster. It's easier to hate him, to blame him, than to admit that part of what's gone wrong is on her, on Elena, on all of them for prioritizing one person above the rest.
Bonnie does it, too. Tells herself it's right, it's okay, it's ELENA.
Elena matters.
Elena needs her.
Bonnie's not sure what she can do or should do, but she knows that she will stretch herself thin, to the very limits of her unexplored abilities, to keep Elena alive and well.)
.
(Grams dies.
Grams DIES.
And Bonnie is trapped. In her grief and misery and pain.
She floats on a sea of shock and anger, feels it sink into her veins and spread through her, feeding into a dying, dulling heart.
Forgiveness feels like stabbing herself with the blade of her own loss. But she does. She forgives Elena and she tries to forgive Stefan. She also tries to kill Damon. Tells herself this is how it should be. Witches and vampires are sworn enemies, and he is hers.
Her enemy.
Her nemesis.
The dark to her light.
The yin to her yang.
He is blood and she is water.
Water that becomes fire and eats away the decay of his heartless tirade.
Bonnie drowns in a swamp of self-righteous sacrifice. Her feet are stuck in quicksand; it pulls and drags and consumes her.
She is lost.)
.
(Bonnie knows love for the first time. Jeremy Gilbert.
She knows pain in the same heartbeat. Anna.
But she forgives.
She forgives, forgives, forgives.
Because it's always asked of her.
Be the bigger person. See the bigger picture. Throw yourself into the fray so the others might live.
Die, die, die.
You aren't worth the fight.
You aren't worth anything.
Did Joan of Arc die happy? Content? Loved?
Will Bonnie?
No.
no no no)
.
(Abby returns. Bonnie tries not to hope, to want, to need.
She does anyway.
Abby can't stay.
Won't stay.
Bonnie tells herself she always knew that was coming.
Her mother knows running better than parenting.
It's a familiar concept.)
.
(Abby turns.
Bonnie is both relieved and revolted.
What seemed like a chance at getting her mother back has turned ugly.
Doesn't it always?
In a strange way, hope still grows.
Until Abby runs again.
Bonnie knows she shouldn't be surprised.
Even with an eternity ahead of her, Abby can't spend a second of it on her own daughter.
Bonnie laughs.
She laughs until she cries.)
.
(Bonnie is Expression.
She is Power.
Invincible.
Control.
Strength.
Bonnie
is.)
.
(Bonnie dies.
She is empty.
Invisible.
Lost.
She is Surrender.
'Let it go.
Let me go.'
I already have.)
.
(When Bonnie was a little girl, she watched his headlights disappear in the distance.
When she is still too young, she watches the light fade from her father's eyes.
She screams.
No one can hear her.)
.
(Damon is the one to bring her back.
Not an enemy, not quite a friend either.
Damon who fights for her more than anyone has before.
Damon who doesn't give up, not until she's back. Until she's whole.
Until she breathes.)
.
(Bonnie is the Anchor.
Pain.
Tearing agony.
Is this her punishment? Is this her new Hell?
There is no reprieve, no rest.
She is a tool.
Always.
always, always, always)
.
("This place is going down, isn't it?"
"It is... I'm sure there are a million people we'd both rather be with right now, but…"
Her hand, once a fist ready to fight, unfurls and finds his. Their fingers fold together, palm to palm.
"Couple thousand at most."
She laughs.
Their eyes meet across the divide, in a world of blue, a light growing in front of them, wind blowing in from every direction.
"Do you think it'll hurt?"
She holds on tighter.
So does he.
"I don't kn—")
.
(The world is empty save for them.
A skeleton of a town she once knew, trapped in a different time.
When Damon isn't drunk, he takes pleasure in annoying her.
She can't help but take some comfort in it. At least she isn't completely alone. At least he's there. At least there's another voice, another body.
Some days he's miserable, and she forces herself to be cheerful, to balance out his defeat somehow.
Some days she just wants to cry. Crawl into one of his many bottles and drown in a sea of bourbon.
He drops the Monopoly box in front of her then. "I'm banker."
"You'll cheat."
He doesn't deny it.
He doesn't deny a lot.
On the really long nights, the ones that don't seem to end, he'll lay with her in front of the fire, on a bed of pillows, a bottle of liquor between them, and he'll tell her everything. Every good and terrible thing he's ever done in his life. Sometimes she listens. Sometimes she comments. Sometimes she just falls asleep to his voice.
She talks, too.
Sometimes he listens. Or complains. Or pretends he doesn't care.
But he does.
He does care.
She knows he does.
He has to.
They're all each other has.)
.
("We're never getting out."
"Give me your ring."
"What?"
She grabs at his arm, glares at him and holds it steady as he tries to tear it away. "Give me your ring." He wrestles to pull his arm free, but she holds on. "All I've heard you say is that there's no hope, and that this is your hell! So, if it's so bad, why don't you just end it?"
He pushes her back then, and she stumbles three steps away.
"Hope is the only thing keeping me going, Damon! So, if you're really done, if you have none—" She slams her hand against his chest and shoves. "—then be done. 'Cause this isn't helping.")
.
(Damon pins Kai to the wall and warn him, voice dripping with the promise of violence, "We might be having a bit of a disagreement but don't ever lay a hand on her.")
.
("Let's get awkward." He tucks his hand under hers, the ascendant in her palm. "Like this?"
"Yep."
"I'm sure there are about a billion people you'd rather be here with."
Bonnie's voice is shaky with emotion. "Not exactly." She looks up at him, eyes bright with hopeful tears. "Let's go ho—"
An arrow hits her hard in the guts, and she's thrown back, landing on the ground with a pained grunt.
Kai grins from behind a crossbow. "Forgetting someone?")
.
(Damon is pinned beneath Kai against a jagged rock. "Bonnie… get… out of here…"
"I'm not going to make it…" Tears fall from her defeated eyes. "But you are." Her expression hardens. "Modus!"
Suddenly, he's not pinned, and the ascendant is heavy in his hands. "No…"He stares at her, too far away to get to. "No!"
She stares at where he once stood, empty now, and feels her heart die.)
.
("You have magic again." Her smile is forced and false. "Good for you."
"I also have the ascendant."
"Doesnt matter, you need a Bennett witch to do the spell."
"About that. I've watched you do the spell twice now... I don't think I need a Bennett witch to do the spell. I think all I actually need is Bennett blood."
He shoves a knife in her guts and watches her crumble.)
.
("It's probably a waste of time even recording anything. But Damon... Elena.. whoever... if you find this and you figure out how to work this stupid thing, please tell everyone I'm sorry. Tell them that I tried. I really tried to make it work.
"Um... You know, I just miss too much. I miss saying 'hi' to strangers. Ordering dinner in a restaurant. Laughing with my friends... But, um, spending every day here alone, with no one to talk to, going weeks without speaking... It's just the loneliness, it's, uh, I can't take it... And I only know one way to turn it off.
"I'm sorry.")
.
("Stay strong... that's something my Grams said. Stay strong.")
.
(The world is somehow the same and completely different when Bonnie finds her way home.
It's too loud and too quiet. Too big and too small. Too full and too empty.
Caroline and Elena, Matt and Jeremy, they all look the same. But Bonnie feels so distant from them now.
They didn't see what she saw. They didn't feel what she felt.
They didn't know Kai's terror and wrath like she did.
When she gets back, Damon tells her Kai is gone. He's dead. She can rest easy.
But she can't believe it. It's too easy. And her life has never been easy.)
.
(Can you ever really love someone you once hated?
Bonnie doesn't know.
She's seen the best and worst of him, experienced it first hand. She should hate him. Hell, some days she does.
Other days… Other days she's not sure what it is she feels.
The fire in her belly that was once hellfire and rage, that would simmer at the mere thought of him, that would spit like lava and tempt her to committing murder, it became something else. Not butterflies. It's flower petals the color of fresh blood. The pain can't be completely ignored or forgotten or forgiven. It's there. It festers when it chooses to. But there is something else, something more, that warms her skin and swells her heart and makes her lungs sting, her breath caught in a moment of awe.
The devil was an angel once, fallen though he may be.
Damon reminds her of that.
When she lays in her bed, his head between her thighs, and lets a sharpened tooth drag along fragile flesh. When his fingers tangle with hers, pinning her hands to the bed, palm to palm. When his lips move against her neck, atop her pulse, leaving kisses so soft, she's not sure she hasn't imagined them. When he bends her over her kitchen counter, pushes her jeans down to mid-thigh and sinks into her from behind, leaving finger-shaped bruises on her hips that are slow to fade. When his hand folds around her neck and he holds her still as he fucks her, the other hand sunk between her thighs, teasing her until desperate tears collect in her eyes. When he folds himself around her in the middle of the night, sleeps with his ear pressed to her heart, and taps out the beat as she drifts away. When he snarks and argues and refuses to back down. When he pushes and pulls and still, she's always the same distance away.
He is far from perfect. He is a novel of red, corrective ink. He is frayed pages and torn binding. His life, his choices, his mistakes leave lasting effects on everyone he meets.
She is a lifeboat with a hole in it. An anchor that drowns in the sea while everyone else remains steady above. She is both the calm and the storm, and while she screams that she will not be tamed, she cries. Bittersweet tears that go unnoticed and uncared about.
Bonnie is not the love of his life.
She is not the love of anyone's life.
She is not.
She is
nothing.)
.
(Bonnie is a daughter without a mother.
Without a father.
A granddaughter without a Grams.
She is a friend without a Caroline.
With too much of an Elena.
If she were a bird, her wings would fail her, nine times out of ten.
If she were a cat, her lives were long used up.
Bonnie is neither bird, nor cat.
She is a witch without a coven.
A Bennett without a family, weighed down by a legacy.
She is a heart without another.
She is
without.)
A bright white light. The world is not so blue here. The field of burning grass is gone. There is no Kai at her feet. No storm above her head.
Bonnie stares ahead, above, and feels no pain, no fear, no uncertainty.
"Aren't you going to ask?"
She turns her head, see Grams at her shoulder. "Ask what?"
Grams' face is sad. She reaches for Bonnie, brushes her fingers over her hair and her cheek. "If it will hurt."
Bonnie shakes her head. "I can take it."
"Oh, baby…" Grams sighs. "I think you've had enough pain to last a few lifetimes."
"Is it over now?" Bonnie wonders.
Grams steps in front of her, blocks the light from burning her eyes. It makes her glow. She puts a hand beneath Bonnie's chin and lifts it, stares her square in the eye and says—
"You tell me."