"It's been a while."
Call it a random bout of nostalgia. She had been in New York for something completely unrelated to them and was supposed to be leaving, but Bonnie found herself wandering over to Brooklyn. Maybe it had been the inescapable pull of a past she chose to leave behind or the need for closure on a chapter of her life that ended long ago. Whatever the feeling was, it drew her back to that warehouse in Brooklyn where the man who had once been her best friend chose to leave her behind like it was the easiest thing in the world. Her lips curled into a frown. It had been a while since she had thought of him, and she wondered why she was doing this. They weren't friends anymore and would never be friends again. But she supposed some part of her needed to know that he hadn't sacrificed their relationship for nothing, that at least his dreams had finally come true.
The streets were unusually sparse in the late afternoon. There was scarcely a soul outside and very few cars on the road. She drove, single-minded in her destination as she gave into a strange pull inside her. Yet at the same time, she teetered on the edge of turning around, leaving the city, and going back home. It had been a long time since she'd slept in her own bed, and the thought of it sounded like heaven after being away for so long, but for some reason she felt compelled to do this. Something deep in her gut told her she had to.
The closer she came, the heavier the air began to feel. A knot coiled in her stomach, the kind that usually meant that something bad was going to happen. Her anticipation heightened, and everything in her told her that now was the time to turn around and never look back, but she drove faster. Her fingers clenched at the wheel as she berated herself. This was stupid. Coming here was stupid, but the warehouses were already in sight. Curiosity already had the better of her. She could regret this later all she wanted, but if something was wrong, she had to know.
Bonnie remembered the exact warehouse like she had been there yesterday. How could she forget. The image was burned into her mind along with the bitter memory associated with it— him standing there, staring at her with wide eyes while her explanation of how his actions were hurting her had fell on deaf ears. She should have never gone there, never wasted her time trying to stop him. Shaking her head, she pushed the distracting thoughts away and focused on moving through the pathways. Her heartbeat sped up ever so slightly as she rounded the final corner, and there it was. She pulled up in front of the building. Her chest tightened as she approached the door. The sinking feeling in her gut intensified.
The combination to the lock had been given to her by Stefan long ago. In case of emergency, he'd said, even though she hadn't wanted it. She quickly put it in and unlocked the door. It was dark, but she could see that there was only one coffin sitting just off the center of the room. Slowly, she walked towards it, looking at the empty space where another coffin should have been. Strange. If the other was gone, she hoped the one that sat in front of her was empty. But somehow, she already knew it wasn't. She paused for only a second before opening the lid. Inside, she glimpsed a tuft of short black hair and pallid grey skin before she closed it and released a long drawn-out sigh. Her gut sank all the way to the floor.
Elena wasn't there. Her coffin was missing.
A barrage of questions ran through Bonnie's mind, but the one she kept asking herself was that if Elena was awake, why was he still here? She would have never left him behind and the only way Bonnie could see her leaving him here was if she hadn't had a choice. Bonnie forced herself to hold that train of thought. Maybe Elena was still asleep, and her coffin was moved to a better place for safekeeping. But that didn't explain why he was still inside the coffin in front of her. Wouldn't they have been moved together? She paced for a moment, then stopped, biting the corner of her lip. She stared at the coffin in front of her and wondered why she cared so much. This was none of her business. They were none of her business, and she wanted nothing to do with either of them. If this was a full-blown situation and the past was any indication, getting mixed up in Elena's problems would definitely not turn out well for her.
Bonnie looked towards the door. It would be easy to walk away and never look back, but would she be able to live with herself if something was wrong and she did nothing?
She cursed aloud, hating the answer to that question.
Bonnie pulled out her phone and dialed Tyler. He and Enzo were the last people appointed to look after Elena's coffin and the last people to move it as far as Bonnie knew, so maybe he might've moved it again. The phone went straight to voicemail, and Bonnie left a quick message asking him to call her back when he could. She hung up and scrolled through the rest of her contacts, calling Stefan first, then Caroline. Neither answered, so she left them both messages asking them to call her back as well. Next, she called Alaric who fortunately picked up on the third ring.
Bonnie explained the situation to him, her confusion and asked him if he knew anything about Elena's missing coffin. After a long pause, he basically said he didn't and that he wanted nothing to do with whatever was going on. The twins were his priority, and he couldn't afford to put himself in dangerous situations anymore. He apologized to her and asked her if she'd told Jeremy yet. Bonnie hadn't seen Jeremy since he supposedly went off to art school in New Mexico and no longer had his number. After telling that to Alaric, he promised to track down Jeremy for her and update him on the situation before promptly hanging up. Bonnie was annoyed with his curt attitude, but she understood. Alaric had died before while caught up in Mystic Fall's supernatural problems and so had she, but he could've at least offered to look up some information for her as well. He did still run The Armory with Enzo after all.
Enzo was, of course, her next call, and he, of course, didn't answer, so she left him a quick message as well. Frustrations mounting, she started pacing in front of the coffin and called the last person who might know anything.
The phone rang for a while, but Matt eventually answered. Bonnie told him what was happening, hoping he might know something. But he, like Alaric, knew nothing and wanted nothing to do with it. Matt explained that he had a new fiancé and a baby on the way. Having not spoken to him for almost two years, Bonnie hadn't known. She congratulated him. Then he, in the same way as Alaric, claimed he couldn't afford to take any unnecessary risks involving the supernatural world. Bonnie understood that, but did no one care that Elena might be in some kind of danger? Would they just forfeit her life?
Not wanting to argue with him, Bonnie changed the subject and asked if he had heard from Tyler recently. He, like Matt, had settled back into the cop-life far away from their hometown in Mystic Falls, and she knew the two regularly kept in touch. Matt told her that he hadn't heard anything from Tyler recently. The few times he phoned him in the past few weeks, the calls went straight to voicemail. Matt admitted that he was a little worried, but hadn't thought too much of it. The last time they talked, Tyler had said he'd been dealing with an increase of hunters in the Pennsylvania area. Hesitantly, Matt asked her if she could possibly head out there and see if he was alright. He would go himself, but he was reluctant to leave his pregnant fiancé's side.
Sympathetic, Bonnie acquiesced. She told Matt that she would go, check on Tyler, and maybe find out if he knew anything about the coffin situation. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other anyway. Matt thanked her, apologized for not being able to help more, and the call ended.
Bonnie stared at her phone a moment longer before shoving it back into her pocket. There was one more thing she could try to make sure that she wasn't unnecessarily worried. She closed her eyes and focused, channeling her own connection to Elena for a quick locator spell sans a map, one where an image of Elena's location should flash in her mind if performed correctly. Bonnie mumbled the incantation, but the moment the Latin words left her lips, she felt a block. She could sense Elena's life force, but when she pushed for a location, she hit a wall. Her brows knitted together as she tried again, repeating the words, but her head erupted into pain until she was forced to stop. She breathed heavily, taking a second to gather herself. This was a witch. Bonnie recognized the magic of another force pushing back against her. Someone was hiding her, but there was no reason, to Bonnie's knowledge, why another witch should know about Elena.
With one last look at the coffin behind her, she walked out into the open air. The sun was setting, but the picturesque glow did nothing to quell her darkening mood. Bonnie cursed the world, cursed the benevolence left in her heart. She wanted so badly not to care, to be able to walk away and not feel any guilt, but she knew that if she did, it would eat away at what was left of her sanity. Somehow, after all this time and everything that had happened, that part of her still remained.
On the way from New York to a little town outside of Pittsburgh, she had called Tyler again and left him another message letting him know that she was on her way to him. Hopefully, he would call her back before she made it out there. It had been a long time since she had seen or even heard from him though, and she was almost looking forward to seeing him. Thinking back, the last time had been about two years ago at Matt's surprise birthday party. Since then, Tyler had lost touch with most of the group outside of Matt. In fact, they had all slowly drifted apart, started new lives for themselves away from one another. Recently, Bonnie herself hadn't seen or heard from Stefan or Caroline for months, and the others for far longer than that. Without a big bad to keep them together, no one had cared to stay in Mystic Falls or keep in contact with each other.
The seven hour drive to the Pittsburgh area ended with Bonnie pulling up to a small house in a nice neighborhood with an actual white picket fence. Bonnie double-checked the address that Matt had sent her. This was it. She looked around. The driveway was empty, and there were no lights on, but it was only six a.m. and the sun was barely just over the horizon. Bonnie rang the doorbell twice. She waited. There was movement inside, footsteps too light to be Tyler. She heard them come down the steps, stop in front of the door, then hesitantly open it. It was a woman, blonde and pretty with soft features. Tyler's girlfriend, Bonnie suspected. The woman wrapped her robe tighter around herself and asked Bonnie if she could help her. Bonnie merely said she was an old friend of Tyler's before looking into her eyes and interrogating her about his whereabouts.
As it turned out, Tyler had been missing for a little over two weeks. They'd only been living together for a week before he just didn't come home after work one day. Police reports had been filed, and they searched, but no one had been able to find him, and there were no new leads. At this point, he was as good as dead. Bonnie's nerves coiled in on themselves as the woman started crying and launched into a lament, expressing how much she loved Tyler and thought they were going to get married and eventually start a family. Bonnie attempted to console her, and once she calmed down, Bonnie promised that she would find Tyler. Skeptically hopeful, the woman asked how, and Bonnie dismissed the question, telling her not to worry.
This was how Bonnie ended up standing in an empty parking lot at seven a.m. in the morning with a map she had bought from a gas station laid out on top of the hood of her car and a bit of black sand she kept handy for times like these. Vinde val tratunderes. The words for a locator spell left her lips like a familiar prayer. The sand circled around the map until it stopped somewhere north and far off the main roads, but a strange sense of dread filled her the moment the sand stopped moving. Something was wrong. Bonnie gauged the distance from where she was and the street nearest to where Tyler was likely located. Rushing off, she sped down the streets.
If she was worried before, Bonnie was even more so now. The dread never left. It lingered, festered until she was sure she should be panicking. She forced herself not to think of the possibilities and to only focus on the road ahead. Tyler would be fine, she said to herself, but she already knew he wasn't. She could only hope against all odds that he was at least still alive. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, and she sped up until the trees alongside the road became a blur. Abruptly veering off onto the side of the road, she put the car into park, got out, and went into the forest.
For another hour, she wandered through the wood, searching for any sign of anything, but all was quiet. Only the sound of wind whirring through the trees echoed in her eardrums. Almost ready to give up, Bonnie took another step forward and felt her veins constrict. The air around her became abnormally cold. Freezing even. She sucked in a breath, sank to her knees, and started to dig.
She clawed her way through the dirt, dread rising all over again. Minutes later, she was uncovering his face. He hadn't been buried deep because no one probably expected anyone to look for him this far out in the forest. Sitting back on her haunches, she stared at her dead friend, at the bullet hole in the middle of his head at a loss for words. She and Tyler had never been close, but she had known him since they were kids, and they had been through so much together. For him to have been murdered and buried out in the middle of the woods like he was nothing made her upset, but she bottled down those emotions, grimacing as she dug out the rest of Tyler's body to reveal evidence that all but confirmed he had been murdered by a supernatural.
There was a hole carved out of his chest, his heart missing. She looked at the bullet wound between his eyes, then the hole where his heart should've been. It only made sense that the bullet would have come first. Shoot him, then take the heart. Hunters primarily used guns, and Matt had said Tyler had been dealing with hunters out here. They could be responsible for his death. But a hunter had no use for a werewolf's heart as far as she knew. Would they have wanted it as a trophy?
There was a spell she could try. It would tell her what happened just before he died if she did it right. Kneeling beside his head, her dirt covered hands cupped his cold face, and she began to chant. Acti vase da cona. She repeated the spell over and over again until images appeared in her head.
The sound of a gunshot. A woman silently ordering a man to shoot him. A feeling of helplessness and fear. She looked up through Tyler's eyes. Shadows, faces shrouded, swirling dark tendrils outlining their shapes. Bonnie pushed herself, looking for distinguishing features. The shadows slowly took shape, forming into a pale woman with long brown hair beside a nondescript man with a gun pointed at Tyler's head. Their mouths moved, but Bonnie heard nothing. The woman's long feminine fingers extended, drawing Bonnie's attention to a very distinct ring in the shape of a lotus flower with a ruby stone in the center. The pull of the man's trigger was the last image she saw before the exertion from the spell became too much, and she had to stop. Breathing as if she had just run a marathon. She stared at her hands, frowning before a drop of blood fell onto her shirt. She wiped the trail of blood from her nose.
The woman from the vision had to be a witch. There was no mistaking the energy she felt gathering around her in the vision. That might explain the missing heart. She could've wanted it for a spell, but there was no way to know for sure. And without knowing who they were or why they wanted Tyler, Bonnie was at a loss. She let out a noise of frustration. First Elena and now this. It seemed the world had a vendetta against her.
Taking one last look at Tyler, she stood and started the trek back towards her car. On the way, she left an anonymous tip for the police so Tyler would be found and he would get the funeral he deserved. Maybe afterwards his poor girlfriend could finally grieve him properly.
When she made it back to the car, Bonnie took another moment to herself, still somewhat in a state of disbelief over Tyler's death. He had been dead for at least a few weeks based on the state of his body, so his killers were likely long gone. That didn't stop her from spending the rest of the day searching the nearby town, asking anyone and everyone if they had seen a mysterious woman and man that fit the description of the two from her vision. But the search had been a waste of time. There was no trail whatsoever for her to follow. Whoever they were, they had entered the town and left like ghosts.
Elena was still out there, still alive. She would have to be her priority, and as long as the two weren't connected, continuing the search for Tyler's killers would be an unnecessary waste of time she wasn't sure she had.
It would have been nice if Stefan or Caroline actually answered their phones. Their help would have been indispensable, but those two were too busy having fun on their honeymoon in Europe to give a shit about the rest of the world. On her way back to the car from the forest, she had called them both again to no avail and left another urgent voicemail for them to call her back. Then she called Matt to break the news. He was heartbroken, promised to try and come out as soon as he could to see what he could find out himself, but as soon as he could was not now, and every second wasted was another second some witch was running around doing god knows what with a werewolf heart. Bonnie cursed aloud. She was angry, furious even that this was all falling on her shoulders, that no one could be as invested in this as she was.
There was no way she was doing this by herself. She refused to. Closing her eyes, she let out a long sigh. In the back of her mind she knew who to go to but was reluctant to admit it to herself. There was one other person who could help her, one person who had far more at stake in this situation than her, who needed to know what was happening. Her stomach lurched at the thought. He was the last person she wanted to see, but who else could she turn to for help with this? There were no other viable alternatives, at least none that would willingly help her, so it was inevitable that she would have to wake him.
Roughly six hours later, Bonnie Bennett was back in New York in front of the warehouse where one coffin containing a certain desiccated individual still remained.
There was no amount of alcohol that could dull the mess of emotions inside of her. It was bad enough that things had gotten to this point but having no choice but to wake him was pushing her to a tipping point. Her head descended to the steering wheel, the tip of her forehead resting between her hands as her grip on the wheel tightened. She had thought she was over it, that she was done caring about what he had done, but just the thought of seeing him and having to speak with him again made her insides turn with latent resentment. Waking him was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had no choice. There was currently no one else, and she desperately needed help. Besides, regardless of her personal feelings, he would've had to have been woken eventually. His involvement in the situation would be far greater than hers and dealing with him would be a necessary evil.
Head still on the steering wheel, she took a deep breath and then another before she stepped out the car and grabbed a blood bag from the cooler she kept in her trunk. Reluctance wore on her features as she slammed the trunk closed and walked towards the warehouse.
When she opened the door, late afternoon sunlight poured through the building, illuminating the single coffin sitting in the center of the room, the empty space next to it a glaring reminder of the problem at hand. Stopping in front of the coffin, she gingerly trailed her fingers along the edge of the dusty mahogany wood before slowly lifting the cover. In front of her, Damon Salvatore's desiccated body lay there, unchanged and undisturbed after all this time. Unlike when she first opened the coffin, she took a moment to stare at his face, and the more she looked at his serene expression, the more forgotten fury rose to the surface. She clenched her fists. While she went through hell, he had been here, sleeping peacefully without a care in the world. For a second, she hated him with all her heart, but the moment passed. She needed his help, and he would undoubtedly need hers. What she felt towards him was irrelevant to the situation at hand.
Resolved, her features set into an impassive expression as she brought the blood bag to his lips and squeezed. Gradually, the pallid grey color of his veiny desiccated skin reverted back to his natural pale complexion. Her eyes flickered to his hand, watching as his fingers twitched beside him. His hand began to move, taking the blood bag from her, and he drank the rest on his own. He gulped down the blood, impatient to satiate his hunger, and a bit trailed from the corner of his mouth, down his chin, and onto his neck. Bonnie's gaze followed the blood intently. But whatever she had been thinking was forgotten when she looked at his face again and his eyes, blue as ever, were staring back at her.
Bonnie backed away, quicker than she intended. There was no explaining the convoluted rush of emotions inside her, but it was overwhelming. She forced herself to remain calm, but no matter how calm she pretended to be, she still dreaded the inevitable confrontation with him when he found out the truth about her and why she had to wake him. Composing herself, she took a deep breath and folded her arms across her chest, staring at an interesting spot on the wall while he slowly sat up, finishing the blood bag before he spoke.
"Don't look so happy to see me Bon-bon." Damon tore the blood bag from his lips and tossed it to the ground. Her stomach tightened the instant she heard him speak. The cadence of his voice was irritatingly jovial. In a second, he was outside the coffin and standing in front of her, eyes widening as he took in her appearance. Bonnie stood stock still as he eyed her from head to toe. But almost nothing about her physical appearance had changed over the years, and soon his gaze returned to her face. Bonnie looked everywhere but directly at him. "How's my favorite witch?"
It was funny how he could pretend that the last thing he saw wasn't her crying and telling him how his decision to desiccate was hurting her. She ignored the reflex to scowl and cut to the chase. "Elena's missing."
In her peripheral, she saw him look around and see that the coffin that should have been next to his was missing. His face fell.
Bonnie shrugged. "I've only known for about two days, but it could have been longer."
Damon tensed, frowning. "What do you mean it could have been longer? And why the hell did you wait two days before you woke me?"
"I thought I had it under control." Damon scoffed at her. She could tell he had become stressed, knew that this was the last thing he wanted to deal with after waking up. He and Elena were supposed to be starting the rest of their lives together, and she was supposed to be dead and gone. Instead, Bonnie was alive, and they had to band together and save Elena for the umpteenth time. Her mouth twitched into a subtle frown. She resented being dragged back into another Elena-centric mess. There were better things she could be doing with her time.
"And you have no idea when exactly she went missing or who might've taken her?"
Bonnie impassively shrugged again. "I wasn't her keeper, and I've had problems of my own to deal with."
Damon paused at that, looking at her curiously. "What sort of problems?" He inquired.
"That's none of your business," she responded coldly.
Damon continued to stare, crystalline blue eyes boring into her. Bonnie was barely reacting, distancing herself from the act of conversing with him. He took it the wrong way. "You seem like you don't even care."
Bonnie raised her eyebrows ever so slightly at his accusatory tone. "Would you like me to get upset?" She had a whole well full of irritation bubbling just underneath the surface. If he wanted to see how upset she was after what she'd dealt with these past two days, she could show him.
"Some emotion would be nice. She's your best friend. She could be dead, and you're acting like none of this concerns you-"
He was deflecting, focusing on her apparent lack of emotion rather than his own and trying to get a rise out of her. Not even five minutes of talking with him and he was already pushing her buttons. She wondered if it was conscious on his part or an old habit resurfacing. Either way, Bonnie was not going to give him the satisfaction. She cut him off just as he started to raise his voice. "She's not dead. I did a spell. Wherever she is, she's still alive, but someone is concealing her location."
Relief flooded his features the moment she said Elena wasn't dead. "Tell me you at least have a plan, then."
Bonnie shifted on her feet. "No plan as of now. We're at square one."
"Okay. What about Enzo or wolf boy? They were the ones who had took care of the coffin last."
Bonnie grimaced. "Tyler is dead." She explained what she had discovered over the past few days, the circumstances of Tyler's death and the woman and man who had killed him. "There was no way to find them, but I'm not entirely sure his death had anything to do with Elena. Hunters have been a problem everywhere lately, and a witch working with one is not unheard of though lately most have started killing witches and werewolves just as much as vampires."
Damon was silent as he took in the information. "What about Enzo?"
"I haven't been able to reach him and I don't know where he is."
"And there's no one else who could've known about the location? What about the armory?"
She shook her head. "What's left of the armory is run by Alaric and Enzo. No one else we don't already know could've known about the warehouse."
"Fine." He started to walk off towards the exit. "Then we should probably regroup with the others and figure out our next step."
Bonnie didn't follow him. "They're not coming."
He stopped in his tracks and looked back at her. "What do you mean they're not coming?"
"Stefan and Caroline are off somewhere in Europe. Everyone else I could reach is either busy, can't help, or doesn't want to help, so unfortunately it's just you and me at the moment." Her voice carried a disdainful tone specifically over the words you and me, and her mouth twitched into a subtle frown. Both of which did not go unnoticed by Damon.
"You don't sound too happy about that."
She stifled the sarcastic retort on the tip of her tongue. Why the hell would she be happy to even be within a two feet radius of him? After the way he hurt her, Bonnie wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. But instead of voicing her thoughts, she chose a more neutral response. "I'm not happy about any of this," she said, hoping to draw his attention away from the festering wound of him and her and the way he left things between them all those years ago, but her magnanimous reply did not deter Damon from pushing the issue.
"You look like you want to say something else."
She ignored his goading. Saying what she wanted to say would be pointless and would fracture her already thin tolerance for dealing with him. Besides, there was another unavoidable matter that should be addressed before they continued any further. "There is something you should know," she started, looking straight at him for the first time. His blue eyes locked onto her green as he waited patiently for her to continue. "Elena is awake, or at least she should be."
He blinked, brows furrowing as he considered what she said. "What do you mean she should be awake? You're standing right in front of me…" He trailed off.
"I've been dead for three months." Surprisingly, it came out like it was nothing.
There was a long pause of him just staring at her before he responded, wry grin on his face.
"Very funny, Bon-bon."
"Does this," She let her face change, the telltale signs of vampirism marring her features, "look like a joke to you?"
He fell silent, any trace of amusement disappearing from his face as he took in her pitch-black irises, blood-shot sclera, the veins running underneath them, and the fangs in her mouth. He looked at her, really looked at her.
His brow furrowed again and the corners of his mouth turned downwards. He didn't say anything, so Bonnie went back to the Elena problem. "This is why I'm worried about Elena. If they took her in the coffin, it means that she could've been gone long before I died which is another reason why I don't think Tyler's death is connected to this if he died only a few weeks ago."
Damon wasn't done with the former subject. "Back up. The Bonnie Bennett I knew would rather die than become a vampire. What happened?"
Her expression remained blank. "Things changed," was all she said.
Damon did not like her answer. "So you're okay with this?" His face was incredulous as he asked her the question. He stepped closer to her, obvious concern in his eyes. "You can't tell me you're okay with this."
She looked away from him. "Don't act like you care about how I feel, Damon."
He stared at her for a long time, frowning, seeming to debate whether or not he wanted to say something, but he let it go. For now. Then his expression shifted to consideration as he realized something else. "Earlier, you said you did a spell."
"I'm also still a witch," she admitted.
His eyebrows went to his hairline. "Hold on. You're a vampire-witch? A heretic? I thought only siphoners could become one."
"It's been eight years. A lot of things happened after you decided to abandon us," Bonnie couldn't help the bitterness that slipped into her voice.
At the mention that it had been eight years, she watched another flicker of surprise pass over his face before he got that other look in his eyes, the one where she knew he was about to spew insincere apologies. "Bonnie. I am s-"
She held her hand up. "Don't. If you even remotely wanted me to believe that you were actually sorry, that should have been the first thing you said to me."
"And if it was, would you have forgiven me?"
She didn't even have to think about it. "No." He did not deserve her forgiveness. Not this time. He chose to abandon her. He chose to never see her again. If she weren't a vampire, she'd be dead. She'd have never seen him, a person who was supposed to be her best friend, for the rest of her life. And now, seeing his face again was reminding her of the feeling he left her with when he chose desiccation over being her friend. Bonnie schooled her features and met his eyes.
"Will you ever consider forgiving me?" His voice was uncharacteristically softer than usual.
She almost scoffed. The anger that boiled beneath the surface and the hurt that lay underneath soared to the forefront at the thought of ever forgiving him in the future. The answer to his question was a resounding "No", but she couldn't bring herself to speak. If she opened her mouth, a volcano would erupt. She would lash out at him. She would end up saying things she knew she wasn't ready to face. They would argue. He would try to make her understand his choice. It would all be a pointless waste of time.
A part of her wondered if she was being irrational. Did she have a right to still feel as angry as she did? She hadn't been this angry since…since she didn't know when. Her emotions certainly hadn't felt this volatile since she first turned. God, she was a mess. Bonnie took a deep breath, meaning to calm herself. She couldn't talk about this, couldn't even think about this anymore. "We should focus on Elena."
Damon looked reluctant to change the subject. His gaze was intent on her, making sure that she knew this conversation was far from over for him. But for her, it was over eight years ago. "Fine. Then let's go." He moved ahead of her, making his way outside.
Bonnie followed him out of the warehouse. "I'm assuming you have a plan?"
Damon stopped in front of her car, having the gall to smirk at her. "'Plan' is my middle name."
A/N: Hi there! First off, if you're a fan of Tyler, sorry for killing him off to jump-start the plot. Secondly, this is an idea that has been stuck in my head after I gave up on the show a few episodes into season eight (lol a long time, I know). I've had this written for a while now and I've decided to take a dive and press the submit button to see if there might be some interest, so please let me know if you're interested! Even though I only have an extremely vague idea of where this is headed and generally no idea how I'm gonna get there, I do hope to continue. Also, this is my first fanfic that I'm posting ever so any feedback and criticism are welcome!
Thanks for reading!
P.S. Considering the premise of this story is centered around searching for Elena, I feel I should reiterate that this will most definitely be a slow burn with Bamon as endgame and is rated M for future chapters.