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Chapter 1

before the fall

I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free;
and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them!
Why am I so changed?
—Emily Bronte

Bonnie Bennett met Damon Salvatore when she was five years old. The man was well over a hundred, and, of course, was not really a man at all. Not that Bonnie knew this. The speed at which he swept her into his arms was just the normal superior power of an adult, and something to be grateful for, not suspicious of. The smile he flashed her was beautiful, and didn't include any unnaturally long teeth.

The dog, more perceptive than she, let out a whimper at the sight of those same teeth. But in this moment, one Bonnie at seventeen could barely remember, this whimper was also something to be grateful for. The dark dressed man had saved her from the nasty dog, and in the years after that intervention Neela had been sweet-tempered and docile with Bonnie.

The wiser, if only slightly, seventeen year old Bonnie Bennett shivered as her memory of that day came back to her in vivid color. The weight of his gaze as he had stared into the dog's eyes, the command in his voice. At the time, Bonnie had thought it like her father's. An air of effortless authority found in those older than her.

Now, she knows the authority was grounded in the supernatural. Damon Salvatore had compelled her neighbor's dog to be nice to her. Even when Neela's snout grew grey and her eyes clouded she never snapped at Bonnie. It had amazed the other kids on her street, and brought her comfort. She had buried her face in the soft fur at Neela's neck the day she realized her mother was not coming home, and the day she knew her father was never really going to be her Dad again.

But Neela hadn't liked her, or loved her, as she had thought. No, her sweetness was forced upon her, bought with magic, tainted by vampirism. Just like everything else in Bonnie's life, and everything else in Mystic Falls.

Bonnie knew that magic and blood ran deep in Mystic Falls, threaded through the foundations as surely as cotton and slavery, and hidden just as shoddily. But it still felt easier to pin her current misery on the most recent embodiments of the supernatural. And it wasn't entirely wrong either.

If it wasn't for Damon, Bonnie probably would have been permanently maimed by Neela. But if it wasn't for Damon, Vicki would still be alive to make bad choices and cause worry lines on Matt's forehead. Elena could actually be recovering after the accident, instead of pushing it aside to deal with romantic and murder drama. Caroline wouldn't have dark circles under her eyes, and an obsessive need to check her watch to ensure she hadn't lost time. Caroline wouldn't have been in that car.

Grams would still be alive. She would still be here, to play weird board games with, to scandalize her students with her stories from the 1960s, to drink sherry at 11 in the morning, to raise a single eyebrow at Bonnie's outfit of the day. She would still be there to confide in, to hug, to love and be loved in return, unconditionally.

And Bonnie would still be a teenage girl with normal worries. She would be making decisions about prom decorations. She wouldn't be dooming vampires to life or death, and dealing with the consequences of both.

Every movie to ever deal with time travel ended with the lesson that it was a bad idea. But, Bonnie reasoned, those movies were based on fake science and written by guys who couldn't actually travel in time. It was easy to label something you thought impossible as morally wrong.

Bonnie wasn't confident in her powers, but she was confident in her ancestors. Grams has said Emily was the most powerful witch in generations, and she had tried to warn her about the Salvatores. With the help of Emily's Grimoire, Bonnie figured she could do this. She'd cried in the waiting room at the hospital for hours, only to be told Caroline's life still hung in the balance. The spellbook hadn't contained anything to heal Caroline, but it had held this. She could go back to the perfect moment, and change everything.

Bonnie wasn't exactly sure of her plan on how to do that yet. Maybe she would just hand over the crystal to Damon without a fight, or she could warn Stefan about his brother and the tomb. She knew Damon wouldn't believe her if she told him Katherine wasn't in the crypt. But once she had the means, she could figure out her strategy. She would kill Damon before she allowed him to ruin her life again.

The spell looked simple, shockingly simple. It was almost as simple as a locator spell. It required far less power and fewer incantations than opening the tomb, which was a good thing as Bonnie was working alone.

If the last few months had taught Bonnie anything, it was that magic always had a catch. The pure elation she had felt when she first explored her powers, the floating feathers and small flames, was quickly balanced by her fear. Fear of discovery, and losing her own sanity. And then, just as she began to comprehend that she might be able to use her powers- to do some good for her town, her friends, and herself—

Well, those plans were quickly put aside to deal with the blood thirsty, manipulative, distractingly hot vampires in town. And the ghost of her ancestor. And murderous town councils. Bonnie's pretty sure it's only a matter of time before something else shows up to top the problems she's faced this week. She didn't know what would be next. A Satanic cult? A wendigo? The original vampire? Who knew? She'd started watching Supernatural and Buffy to hedge her bets and be prepared.

Elena was dating a vampire (or two) and she apparently looks just like their vampire ex-girlfriend. Jeremy wanted to become a vampire, or maybe a vampire hunter to follow a weird family legacy. Even Mr. Saltzman, the random new history teacher, was caught up in the vampire underworld. And Tyler, who knew what he was, to have been affected by the Device.

Bonnie should add herself to that list. Bonnie is a witch. But she wanted out. She wanted to be Matt. Bonnie wanted complete ignorance, and therefore, complete bliss. She'll fix what she can in the moment, and then set herself up for life outside the drama. She'll actually have time to get that coffee with Tiki, to make up her geometry test, and God help her, she will apply for college.

But back to the catch. There, at the bottom of the page, was a small note.

I have hidden the bloodstone in the Salvatore home, the one place I know both Katherine and Damon have no desire to go back to, who knows what either would do with this power. The youngest brother will hold the estate, and the stone will remain hidden. He has agreed to hide the stone, in plain sight, set into the fireplace. The hearth is built into the foundation of the home, and it will remain standing, even if the manor house burns down around it.

She'd found the note weeks ago, when Elena first asked her to look into possible Gilbert enchantments. Emily loved her gemstones. Bonnie had sighed but gamely trekked out to the ruins of the Salvatore mansion.

It hadn't been there of course. Not that Bonnie should really have been expecting it to be. The whole place had fallen apart, and the forest had taken over. Bonnie was walking through the trees with Emily's Grimoire held open in front of her, flat across her open palms. She had hoped it would somehow point her towards the stone she needed, like a magic compass instead of an old book.

She was pretty out of her depth. If only Grams—

But she was on her own, and there was no fireplace. The ruins of a few walls still stood knee high, but that was all that was left of Giuseppe Salvatore's manor and plantation. Other than his two immortal sons of course. No fireplace equaled no bloodstone. And no bloodstone meant no magic to trace which meant Bonnie had hit yet another dead end. How was she supposed to learn magic when all she had to study was a century old book? Bonnie kicked a wall.

"What are you doing here Bonnie?" The witch whirled around, book now clutched to her chest. Luckily, it was the younger, vegetarian brother.

"Stefan! Oh gosh you scared me. Why does it seem like we're always meeting like this?" The furrow in Stefan's brow disappeared, and he huffed out something close to a laugh, before the furrow was back and his thoughts turned suspicious again.

"Why are you here Bonnie? You must know what this place is, or—" He spread his arms as if to encompass the whole skeleton of his childhood home, "what it used to be at least. You don't just stumble over all of this accidentally. Is there something you need?"

For a moment Bonnie considered lying. Telling him nothing, or a complete fabrication. That Founder's day was coming up and she wanted to get a feel for life back then, or maybe, slightly more believably, she wanted to see where her new friend (and new enemy) had spent their youth over a hundred years ago.

But Stefan's face, so serious, managed to be kind at the same time. How did he manage that?

"What happened to the fireplace, the main fireplace?" For a minute confusion ruled is face, but his expression soon smoothed. He might have been questioning Bonnie's sanity, but he would be circumspect about it.

"When they built the boarding house, they moved the fireplace. It didn't need to be refurbished or anything. It was almost as if it had a spell of preservation on it." He said the last part slowly, like he had just realized that it was very possible that the fireplace had been under such a spell. Bonnie avoided his eyes, nodding as she stared into the trees. She wasn't sure why she was trying to play it off as if it didn't matter to her. He had just caught her in the woods searching for his old fireplace. Obviously, it mattered.

"Do you need to see it for something?" The impulse to lie climbed up Bonnie's throat again. It sat at the back of her mouth, pushing. Perhaps a part of her brain was trying to warn her, telling her not to trust a vampire. Or maybe it was an attempt to sabotage her, to stop her from studying this particular spell. Bonnie brushed the feeling aside. She nodded once, definitively.

"Yeah, Emily mentions it." She held up the grimoire with one hand, like it is a casual thing. Her wrist flopped under the weight, and Bonnie tucked the heavy book close to her body once more. "Umm, yeah, anyway...it'd be great if I could check it out."

Stefan smiled and motioned for her to follow him, treating this like a normal request. The two walked through the woods, towards Bonnie's parked car, in silence.

It wasn't a comfortable silence, and it lasted the walk to the car, and then through the car ride, and up to the house. The silence prickled, or at least it prickled Bonnie. Neither spoke up, perhaps fearing words would draw attention to the strangeness of the situation, or just the strangeness of them being alone together. Were they really friends outside of Elena and desperate missions to save the town?

"I should be quick. And I'll try not to break anything." Bonnie said wryly. She'd promised Elena she would try to be better, and she should start treating Stefan as a friend. Stefan nodded, smiling, as if he were privy to her internal decision. He also did not bother to ask why she wanted to see the fireplace, or what Emily had written about.

The bloodstone lay directly in the middle of the mantlepiece. Set into the carved scrollwork of the stone, it looked as if it was meant to be there. Smooth, oval, and larger than Bonnie's clenched fist, it arrested Bonnie on sight. The surface was a deep green, but thick veins of red shot through it's surface.

Bloodstones are not often described as beautiful. They don't sparkle like sapphire, or cut like diamond. But, Bonnie could feel the pulse of power around this particular stone, a steady and grounding presence. The green of nature, the red of life. With effort, she tore her gaze from its solidity. Any doubt she'd held that this could be the stone Emily worked with had fled. The stone had crushed any uncertainty.

Stefan was watching her.

Bonnie smiled, breathing in deeply to slow the rapid heartbeat she was sure he could hear.

"Stefan, was that stone always in the center like that?" He looked at the fireplace curiously, before reaching out to brush his fingertips along the bloodstone. Bonnie's breath caught. She didn't want him to touch it.

"No—" He let out a long sigh. Maybe, now that his attention was drawn to it, the stone affected him as it had her. Or maybe remembering his human life, so long ago, was more to blame. His voice grew soft, a murmur. "It used to be amber. A piece of amber just the same size. My brother would stare at it for hours"

"Damon?" Bonnie asked incredulously. The violent vampire didn't seem one for contemplation. Stefan shook his head in one quick motion, turning back towards Bonnie.

"No, our younger brother. Alessandro. He was only a child when I—when we—" Stefan paused for a moment, trying to land on the right word, "left."

"I never noticed the change. I guess later Salvatores switched it. It's a shame though, Alessandro loved that amber." Bonnie knew that it must have been Alessandro himself who switched out the stones, though she wasn't sure what Emily had told him to get him to agree.

"Stefan could I take the bloodstone? You could replace it- find amber to take its place. It will be more like how you remember it." Bonnie realized that this may not be an effective argument for Stefan. "Besides, it was Emily's. So technically it's mine anyway." Not exactly true, and Bonnie now sounded like a child, grasping for toys. Still, they must all sound like children to him sometimes.

He didn't look upset by her demand, or even confused. His face was hard to interpret. Afterall, Bonnie didn't know him very well. She held her breath, waiting for an answer.

"Sure, why not? Here let me help." A fraction of a second after his careless shrug, his arm was straining against the stone.

"It's not coming out. I don't know what you want me to do Bonnie, it is stuck in there with more than just glue." He gave it one more go, pulling with all of his vampire strength…and still nothing. How did Emily perform so many spells? Bonnie was exhausted just by the thought of her ancestor's frequent spellcasting.

"So, Bambi and Thumper aren't making you the strongest guy around, no need to take it out on the furniture, Stefan. I'm sure the witch won't mind that you're not up to my standards." Damon threw Bonnie a wink as he paused in the open archway, before sauntering over to slap his brother on the back. The witch sneered in disgust and Stefan rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you give it a go then, oh mighty Damon, I'm sure soccer moms have been much more strengthening than Peter Cottontail." Damon responded to his brother's snark with a shrug and reached towards the bloodstone. He looked completely at ease as he tried to pull it out, until it proved just as stubborn under his hand. He tried harder. Just like Stefan, he pulled with all his strength, and gained nothing.

"Why don't you guys let me try?" Both of the Salvatores turned to look at her with disbelief written all over their faces.

"We," Damon said motioning to Stefan and himself while he spoke in the slow voice you use with children, "are vampires. We have super strength. You don't." In a moment of complete immaturity, Bonnie stuck out her tongue at him, and pushed her way between the vampires. Bonnie looked at the stone, deciding how to place her hand to get some kind of grip on its smooth surface.

At the lightest brush of her fingers, the stone fell from its setting. Bonnie hadn't been expecting this, and scrambled to catch the bloodstone, fumbling with it like a hot potato. Damon snatched it from the between her flailing hands with ease. He considered the stone, the now empty recess in the mantlepiece, and the shocked face of the teenage witch. His brother's face was inscrutable, and none offered an explanation.

Damon placed the stone in Bonnie's hand.

"I totally loosened it for you." He said. Bonnie huffed, and Damon laughed. He headed towards the drink cart, heedless of the sun's high position over Virginia. He glanced towards Stefan, a wordless offer, and his brother, rather uncharacteristically in Bonnie's mind nodded in acceptance.

Damon poured them both doubles, and spoke without turning around.

"You better run along witchy, you've got magic to make and we have scotch to drink." Bonnie left without a word, eager to take the out.

Bonnie shuddered thinking about the Salvatore brothers helping her now. It wasn't exactly Stefan's fault that she was having an existential crisis over saving him and Damon from the fire, but the elder Salvatore brother set her teeth on edge. She'd saved him because of Elena, and because of the growing guilt in her stomach over her betrayal. She'd held it as a seed in her stomach for days, but it had flourished as Damon thanked her sincerely at the parade. Bonnie shook those thoughts away. That was why she was doing this, to get away from it all.

Bonnie had decided to perform the spell in the woods. Not too far from the Salvatore ruins, but nowhere near any drinking spot favored by her classmates. She carved a circle around her with a stick, and placed representations of each of the four elements around where she stood, bloodstone held aloft, in the center.

She'd considered the graveyard, a place with more power, and closer to her car, before remembering how much Elena used to hang out there. She didn't want to run into a grieving Elena from a few months back, she needed to just get in, get out, and live happily without ever knowing the memories she was losing and lives she was saving.

Emily had warned that the spell wasn't exact, and Bonnie figured packing a bag with a few days of clothes wouldn't be a bad idea. Plus, she needed something with her to make past-Bonnie trust her immediately. To know that they were one in the same person, and following her advice was critical.

She'd chosen a necklace that her grandfather had given her when she was a little girl, before he'd passed. It had an empty setting at the end of a long chain. The beaten metal was beautiful even without a stone, but Grams had assured her that she would know the right gem for it when it found her. When it found her, not the other way around. How very Harry Potter of Grams.

The necklace was one of a kind, made by her grandfather himself before she was born, so Bonnie knew that seeing it, and its inscription, would make her past self believe her words. She stowed it in her bag, next to her jeans and emergency stash of power bars.

Bonnie closed her eyes, feeling in her bones the sunrise beginning, the first rays of light reaching over the Virginian mountains. She closed her eyes, shoving aside her worry for Caroline, her guilt over the car crash, her loneliness without Grams, and began to recite the spell she'd memorized. She only tripped over the strange language once, and with each repetition her words gained strength, conviction. She was meant to do this, she was meant to go back.

And then it all went black.