Author: sansbear PM
Bonnie Bennett navigates the increasingly treacherous path between vampires and witches. And while she started out clean, she finds herself becoming more immersed in the gray area of right and wrong, love and hate, and loyalty and betrayal.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Drama - Bonnie B. & Damon S. - Chapters: 16 - Words: 58,952 - Reviews: 164 - Favs: 72 - Follows: 97 - Updated: 08-10-12 - Published: 03-28-11 - id: 6854179
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: So here's the thing: I am reuploading "Undisclosed". The style bugged the crap out of me, so this is the edited version. I've decided to follow more my plot than the show, so there will be a slight deviation in setup. My sincerest apologies to those of you who reviewed, alerted, and added to their favorites-I want to produce something of some quality, and I feel the best way to do this is to run up this hill again with a lighter load and longer chapters. This is a gamble, and I hope the reader enjoys.
Disclaimer: I disclaim any ties to this show and in no way seek to gain anything from it.
In the spring they used to go swimming in the Powell River. They tied their inner tubes to a tree and floated for hours or they climbed along the rock. Elena would sun bathe while Bonnie swam beneath the falls and flattened her back against the rock. The water fell like a shimmering sheet of glass. The sound soothed her. Elena always thought she drowned and Bonnie waited until the pitch of fear entered her voice before appearing.
Grams drove them to the river. Grams showed them the falls. One spring she drove them to Cedar Creek Falls. That was the summer before high school. She remembered the hike through the forest. Tall trees fanned out above them. The leaves were light green and dark green and grass green. They made a game of classifying all the kinds of green they saw. Grams called a patch of moss 'puke green'. The woods echoed their laughter. The sunlight winked at them as they jumped over fallen trunks and scrambled down over rocks and just like that there was thunder like she never heard.
It was beautiful. White water rushed over jagged black rocks and collected in clear green pool. A rock rose from the shallows above the pool. Cedar branches stretched out over the falls and above them the sky was blue. Grams showed them a path behind the falls. Elena had longer legs so she made it to the top before Bonnie. She found her friend looking along the undergrowth.
"Help find me a rock," Elena said.
Bonnie squinted. "Why?"
"So I can see how deep the water is. You want to jump in and break your neck?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes and bent down. Elena was the practical one. She thought about these things. Bonnie didn't because she never thought of jumping off a rock into water.
Elena found a rock and threw it straight down. She looked to Grams.
"You're okay, girl. Go ahead and jump."
With Grams approval, Elena took a deep breath, stepped back, and took a flying leap into the air. She tucked her knees in and yelled "Geronimo!" before barreling into the water.
Bonnie leaned out over the hot black rock they chose as a base and waited for Elena to bob up. Sure enough a black head broke the surface and a wide wet grin beamed up at her.
"Oh my God Bon! It's so cool! Come on!"
Bonnie grinned despite her apprehension. The falls at Powell River were short but these required them to climb and tower almost a hundred feet above the pool. Grams held her sun hat as she looked up at her. Grams said it was okay. Elena jumped like a fool. She could do this.
Bonnie stood and edged back. She took in a couple of gulps of air. She was running and then there was nothing beneath her but air and the spray of the falls. She grabbed her knees before cool water blasted her body. Her ears popped. Her eyes opened. As deep as she was it was clear. The bottom was rocky. Above her she saw the falls hit the surface, saw small fishes wave like a silver flag. Elena's legs kicked back and forth.
It was so quiet except for the thunder. Even at the bottom she heard the power. The light green of the water grew lighter. She needed to breathe and tell Elena. When she broke the surface, gasping and sputtering, Elena was screaming her name and Grams was in the water.
"What?" she yelled.
"I hate when you do that! I thought you hit your head or drowned or something! Jesus Bonnie," Elena yelled back.
Bonnie splashed Elena. "I'm part fish, right Grams?"
Grams exhaled. "Yes, baby. But how about we stick to the human part of you today, okay?"
So Bonnie floated on her back while Elena sunbathed. Grams joined her.
"Bonnie, you like the water?"
Bonnie said yes and Grams went back to being silent.
"You know, this place is a healing place. You let the water move the worry from you or you can jump off that rock and all the weight you brought with you just disappears into the spray."
"But doesn't the spray become the pool? I mean, it's all the same water so aren't we just, like, floating in people's troubles?"
Grams laughed. "Maybe. But just like you never step in the same river twice, you never float in the same trouble. It's not yours."
Bonnie smiled and shifted to tread water. Grams had a special way of floating. She seemed to be resting right on the surface.
"Is that why you brought us here? You had some trouble?"
Grams grinned. "No trouble. Just wanted you to know, that's all. This is a healing place."
This is a healing place.
The moon hung high and full. The foam from the falls glittered white in the blackness of night. The pool was a dark rippling mirror. Bonnie sat on the diving rock. She contemplated stripping down to her underwear and letting the fall strip her of troubles.
Troubles. Her mind shifted to the tomb. She held a hand in front of her face. If she wanted to, she could snap her fingers and there would be fire. She did what most people were unable to do. She had power, but not enough to save...
"I would give up being a witch if you would just come back. Just come back Grams. It's unbearable," she whispered.
A slight breeze rustled the leaves. It was late. Bonnie started to stand when a man burst from the woods and splashed into the pool, frantic. He turned this way and that and started for the exposed rock of the waterfall. Another figure appeared on the rock jutting out of the pool. Moonlight caught the silver of a ring. Bonnie froze.
His head whipped toward the man. A pointed grin flashed in the dark. Bonnie crouched low to the rock. The staccato of speech reached her. Damon toyed with the man as he struggled up the rocks. She slinked back to the shelter of the trees.
Desperation gave the man enough strength to pull himself to the drop. In the span of a breath Damon stood above him.
"You haven't been watching the news, have you?" Damon reached down and grabbed the man by the throat. He lifted him to eye level. "There's an animal in these parts."
Damon bit him so deeply the man's scream turned into instant gurgling. Horror paralyzed her from acting. She had never seen a vampire feed. There was nothing romantic about it.
Damon shook the man like a doll as he drained him. Done, he tossed the body and threw back his head. He swayed for a moment. Blood and gristle matted his face. Bonnie watched him bend and wash his face. He hummed a little song as bloody drops fell.
She imagined the body floating in the pool she swam as a child. She saw the white foam turn pink from all the blood. Rage drained the horror from her body,
Bonnie rose and stepped out onto the rock. Damon paused. She lifted a hand and he lurched into the air, flame crawling up his legs and spreading across his back. He writhed in midair, screaming.
"Bonnie, this is a healing place."
Gram's voice reverberated through her skull. She winced. "No, Grams. There is no such place," Bonnie whispered. With a flick of her wrist Damon hurtled to the pool below.
A few hours later Damon pulled himself to the bank. He fell back, face to the sky. He had caught her words as he fell, felt the release as her heel scraped the rock to flee.
"What a bad little witch," he murmured before passing out.
Bonnie stood in the doorway. No one was home to greet her, per usual. She shut the door and rested a moment. This was home—silence and dust motes in sunbeams. There was note tacked to the foyer mirror. Her father apologized for not being home to greet her, there was a meeting, dinner later, maybe…Bonnie crumpled the note. Promises. She was sick of them.
The first thing she noticed in her room was the pungent smell of dying flowers. Daisies, to be exact, arranged in bundles of five around the room.
Way back, when they learned about the value of certain things like gummy bears and staying up an extra half hour, Bonnie decided that daisies should be their secret currency. Whenever they had a secret to share, two daisies. To apologize, five daisies. It wasn't her favorite flower, but it was a nice flower, wild but not so wild that they couldn't find some in a neighbor's flower garden.
The last time she spoke to Elena, it was at the funeral.
Elena separated from the crowd and started towards her with a pained expression. Bonnie turned from the open grave, ready to take comfort in the arms of her dearest and oldest friend when Stefan appeared at Elena's side, grim as ever, the sun making him look severely pale.
Bonnie inhaled sharply. They were a few feet from each other. Elena wrapped her arm around her middle and looked at Bonnie carefully.
"I know. You're sorry." Bonnie replied.
Elena darted her eyes to Stefan then back to Bonnie. "I…if I knew…"
Bonnie shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it with one of them standing next to you."
She looked to Stefan then started. Beyond him, standing at the edge of the woods, was Damon. Her hands started to shake and the world went hazy. Acid burned her throat. Elena must have sensed what was happening because grabbed Bonnie's hand.
"Bonnie, talk to me."
Bonnie glanced to the woods. There was nothing but shadows and trees.
"Go. Go home. I don't want you here," Bonnie withdrew her hand, "I don't want you here, Elena."
Elena stared at her, uncomprehending. Silent tears started to roll down her cheeks. Bonnie resisted the urge to touch her own face. The world was watery.
Bonnie looked to Stefan. Power hardened her tongue. "Take her home."
He shot a quick, sad glance at Bonnie before taking Elena's arm and gently pulling her away.
"Stefan—" Elena protested but she went with him, looking back at Bonnie until the sun blocked her out.
Bonnie breathed a heavy sigh and drew back from the memory. A dull ache sat behind her eyes. It had been a month since the funeral. A lot happened in a month. Maybe enough to move her to speak to her friend.
She grabbed her cell phone and keys and turned to leave when she saw her curtains billowing in the breeze. Curious, she went to the window. It was pulled all the way up. The sill was damp with dew. Her eye caught a glint of purplish black. She looked outside and there was a large crow sitting on the branch of a birch tree across the street.
A warning. The beady black eyes bore into her.
"Okay," Bonnie said aloud. She shut the window.
The crow cocked its head, let out a screeching caw, and took flight.
The doorbell rang through the Gilbert house. Elena dropped her fork and bounced off the stool.
"I'll get it!"
She strode to the door and swung it open. Her customary greeting died on her lips.
"Hey," Bonnie said. An uncomfortable smile creased her face.
Elena just stared.
Bonnie fingered the strap of her purse. "You know, you should use the peephole."
Elena blinked. "I haven't heard anything from you in a month."
"A lot has happened."
"There's a vampire slayer."
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Elena nodded. "Alaric Saltzman. He's our new history teacher."
They stared at each other. Elena's eyes started to glaze over. "I made banana pancakes. There's some strawberry syrup too. I…I thought maybe you'd be back."
Bonnie smiled as she stepped inside. "Maybe some of that witchy stuff rubbed off on you."
"So how is Stefan?"
They were in Elena's bedroom, having a primping fest. Elena stopped filing her nails. Bonnie concentrated on applying coral polish to her pinky finger. When Elena remained silent, Bonnie glanced over to her friend.
"What?" she set her hands in front of a fan.
"You don't have to ask about him if you don't want to."
Bonnie lifted a shoulder. "You want to tell me. You puff your cheeks every now and then."
Elena rolled her eyes and went back to filing. A companionable silence filled the room.
"I have to tell you something. But I don't know how you're going to handle it."
Bonnie hopped up onto the bed and sat across from Elena. Both girls sat Indian-style, their knees knocking. Bonnie schooled her face into a blank mask and waited. Elena inhaled deeply.
"The tomb didn't close. The vampires escaped."
Each word sank into her like a knife. There was initial pain but then…nothing. Her eyes focused beyond Elena's troubled face to that night.
It wasn't enough. A life wasn't enough to close the tomb. Emily's strength shocked could she be so stupid as to believe they had the magic to lift and refit a curse that powerful? Perhaps they did. Maybe she slipped in casting. She had to. Gram's death had to be for something. It had to mean something. The words, the words, what were the words, the words…
She gasped and jolted backwards. Elena grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. There was a crash and a thump and an "oomph" as both girls tumbled off the bed.
"Ouch," Bonnie groaned, rubbing her head. Elena was the first one up. She helped Bonnie onto her feet. Papers, pillows, books, everything not nailed down was on the floor. The bed was askew. Smoke turned the room hazy.
"What happened?" Bonnie whispered.
Elena picked up a book and a couple of papers. "I told you about…" she caught herself, "I told you the latest news and you went into some sort of trance. All my candles flared to life and then everything levitated."
Bonnie went to the desk. Yellow wax stained the cherry mahogany and dotted the rug. All she remembered was Elena telling her about the tomb vampires.
"I don't understand," Bonnie said.
Elena set down more books and put a hand on her shoulder. "You were speaking Latin, Bon. Kinda sounded like what you and Grams were saying outside the tomb."
Bonnie read the concern. It had become a constant companion ever since Stefan arrived and Damon cawed his way into Mystic Falls.
"Crap. I haven't been in town two hours and we're back to the supernatural."
The tension broke with Elena's easy smile. "Since you made this mess, want to wiggle your nose or snap your fingers or something?"
Bonnie laughed. "Yeah, or something."
It was well after ten when Elena dropped her home. Rain fell in heavy, blistering drops and Bonnie screeched as she ran from the car to the cover of the porch. She waved to Elena and watched her pull carefully from the curb before entering the house. She shook the rain from her hair and shrugged off Jenna's old red raincoat.
"Ah, look at Little Red Riding Hood, all soaked from her travels."
Bonnie stilled for a second, and then set the coat on a hook.
"And you're the Big Bad Wolf, right? You already bit me once." Bonne turned to find Damon standing on the stair, a glass of brandy in hand.
He grinned and took a sip. "My, my, my, aren't we saucy and dare I say, a wee bit clever?"
Damon eyed her slowly. She stood relaxed in her flimsy peach camisole ridiculous black shorts. He was used to her hair down but this ponytail look made her appear somewhat mature. As did the lack of make-up and unfazed gaze she set on him.
"So, Bonnie, how did you spend your vacay?"
Bonnie slipped her hands in her pockets. "Brushing up on my heritage, visiting old haunts, stuff like that."
Damon jumped off the bottom step and drained the rest of the brandy. "Do any grilling recently?"
"No. Did you?"
Damon laughed. "Oh Bonnie. You know, I like this. Elena gets exasperated, Stefan just starts oozing brood, and dinner starts screaming for help and praying. Not a lot of people I can banter with."
"Glad to be of service, Damon. You know the way out."
Bonnie passed him and went into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator. She wanted a grilled cheese suddenly. With soup.
"Aren't you curious how I got in?"
She sighed. "Let me guess, my father opened the door, you compelled him or something and here you are. Not that hard to figure out."
She took out some cheese. Damon watched her walk to the pantry and search for a can of soup.
He sat on the counter next to the breadbox. Bonnie pursed her lips. "That leather jacket was vintage. 1956. A very good year."
A flicker of aggravation wrinkled her brow. "What do you want Damon? An apology? I'm sorry for your jacket. Now goodbye, have a nice night." She reached in the breadbox and retrieved a loaf of bread. Not a hair trembled.
The one thing he could count on was intimidation. He barely held himself in check and any sane human could taste that, they would be on their knees, cowering and begging for mercy. Bonnie continued to prep for her grilled cheese and soup dinner. Her hand didn't even twitch when Damon slid a knife from the block.
She stopped to look at him and he passed it to her handle first.
"You tried to kill me," Damon went on conversationally as Bonnie began making the sandwich.
"I obviously didn't succeed."
Even when her head smacked against the cool brushed metal of the refrigerator, Bonnie didn't understand. And then she felt pressure along her body. Her eyes cleared to glare into frigid blue circles. An icy hand clutched her throat, keeping her in place. The other took her wrist and yanked it behind her. She bit back the pain.
"Shh. Struggle and I'll pull your arm from its socket."
Damon loosened his grasp just enough to shift his hand over so he could trail his nose along her neck. Her vein pulsed in steady rhythm to her heart. Even now, when his teeth grazed the smooth, thin skin, there was no fear.
"The last witch who tried to kill me," Damon slid his hand down to rest a firm hand over her heart, "I ripped this out."
He examined her face to gage the impact of his words. Bonnie watched him steadily, unaffected. But there, in her eyes, was a glimmer of rage. He was reminded of the flames engulfing his body.
Then it all changed. He was warm. As though he gorged himself on the blood of a fresh, nubile triathlete (preferably tall, shapely, with a 34-C rack). Damon dropped his hands at the same time he dropped his face close to hers.
"What did I say about trying to kill me?"
"Something about my heart and ripping," Bonnie said.
Damon didn't even hear the words, just read her lips. Those lips. Close up and gasping, they were attractive, even in their crookedness. He stared at her face, seeing her outside the threat she posed. His hand was still on her chest. The warmth flared into heat. He wanted to bite her, but the killing instinct was gone. He wanted to bite her but—
Damon reared back. He squeezed her neck. "Don't do it again."
Before Bonnie could take her next breath, Damon was gone, her grilled cheese was burnt, and for the first time in a month, Bonnie Bennett shook.