I know I have open fics and I also have a block again. This idea has been tugging at my brain for a week. I wrote it out and split it into four parts. I'll post it all this week. It's a future!fic. Enjoy. Thank you guys for always reading my stuff and being such a huge support.
I. The Return
Bonnie Bennett was getting married.
Damon had put nothing but space between himself and the little witch, his little witch since that night and her rejection, but for some reason when that phantom link appeared in his inbox, he'd clicked. There was only one person that could have sent it, sweet little Jeremy Gilbert. The boy she'd gone to the ends of the Earth to protect. She'd bartered with angry, long dead witches, and even faced off with Klaus, the devil himself, just so he could live.
The witch had never done anything for him. That was a lie, in time they'd grown to become friends, confidants. She had listened to his ranting and raving about Elena and Stefan. She had even orchestrated the plan that reunited the Bella and Edward of Mystic Falls. Yet in the process, Bonnie had missed the signs, the long lingering looks Damon offered. The tender way he pushed her hair behind her ear. He had been the one on the other end of the phone when she called, voice choked by tears, at the consequences of her spell. He'd stood by her side and insulted her out of depression when Gilbert said he needed time because of the bullshit, filling his ears from jealous and deceased ghosts of his ex – girlfriends. He was the one that she gave her most precious gift to in a moment of weakness. It had been more than sex, more than an exchange of blood, she was part of him, and knowing that she had chosen someone else, killed what was left of his spirit.
The image was still engrained in his mind. A tiny little Bonnie standing next to a bigger, adult Jeremy, her eyes filled with love, and her features distorted by the bliss that came from their almost kiss. There was a caption under the picture about their engagement and the date of their pending nuptials. He had scrolled the site, reading the story he already knew.
The first time they met…
She kicked him in the shin.
Their first real date…
A movie and dinner at the Grille…a date he'd stalked and watched unfold before his eyes…
Their first kiss…
He felt the bile in the back of his throat…was it possible for an undead being to have bile…
The proposal…
The dress…
The venue…
The bridesmaids…
The best man…or men…
How in the hell had Gilbert managed to steal his brother - Stefan and his former best friend – Alaric
Those same two had told him to leave well enough alone. They had urged him to stay away despite the invitation that made it to his PO Box.
If Jeremy insisted on torturing him in such a passive aggressive manner then he would have to deal with seeing his face in the audience. He would have to pray that when the minister asked, if anyone objected, Damon wouldn't stand and carry the bride to be away.
Fuck their happily ever after. Just once he wanted to get the girl.
~`~Hello Again~`~
Damon didn't worry about formalities when he stepped into the hall. He heard the chime of the glasses, listened to the soft music that played. Her father was there, a massive arm tossed across boy wonder's shoulders. Lucy had even returned for the festivities, eyes glistening with tears. Hope was a funny thing; she saw her own hope in her baby cousin's happiness. Maybe they weren't doomed to be Bennett witch spinster's who made their way to an early grave. Caroline and Elena twirled around to the music filtering through the speakers. The latter all aglow with the new beauty bestowed from fresh immortality, his brother finally had the nerve to turn his wife.
Then his eyes found her.
She was still small, tinier than anyone in the room, but her eyes, held a wisdom that no one else there knew, no one but him. Her breasts were fuller, her hips curvier, no doubt a response to the constant attention her fiancé paid to her body. It made Damon quiver and long for the nights where they fought or fucked. No one knew her the way he did.
He entered the room without pomp or circumstance, stopping by the bar for a drink, and taking his seat next to one of the bride's less attractive cousins. Jeremy hadn't expected him to attend. He couldn't wait to see what his little surprise visit would do to all that false confidence.
Damon listened as faces he didn't know talked about the happy couple; a frat buddy from the University of Virginia, a sorority sister from Hampton. They all filled his ears with sickeningly sweet tales of the happy couple's love.
It was all bullshit.
Duty and honor kept her bound to that prat and he knew it, if only he could prove it. She was in love with the fairytale, the promise of a normal life, but Bonnie Bennett was anything but normal. She was a powerful ball of energy that held the power of a coven of witches in the palm of her hand. Why was she settling for the white picket fence and suburbia, when she could have had New York, Milan, or Paris. She could have had him and together they would have had it all.
He swallowed his drink, relishing the burn in his chest as Tyler stood to speak. He saw the wolf when his nostrils flared, waited for the gaze to sift him out of the crowd, and when it did he tipped a champagne flute in Lockwood's direction.
A series of gasps followed as realization traveled across the room.
Damon Salvatore was back and at least ten people in attendance knew why. He stood making his way from the back of the hall. Navigating the narrow space between the tables, draining flute after flute of Moet, along the way, until he reached the podium.
He pushed Tyler from his place behind the microphone and stared at the bride to be.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous." Bonnie's lids lowered to shield her eyes, "Do you know that, you're fucking beautiful?" Damon lifted his glass high, "To Bonnie Bennett, the one I let get away." He took a slow sip, still keeping her in his sights, "The one I promise to reclaim."