Author's Note: Hello again, Bamon lovers. ;) I know I have yet to update my other fic, but I really just had this in my head suddenly and I just had to write it. You could say this is a prequel to the prequel, how Damon started seeing Bonnie for real and before they started the birds and the bees thing, before the dare.

Basically, this one-shot/prequel thing is very therapeutic to me. Reminds me of a friend I've been talking to these past few days. My reasons aren't the same as hers, but really, there's just something so magical in writing about something that means so much to you. And for me, I realized the reason as of why I've been so drawn to the idea of Bamon is mainly because of Damon. Not because he's hot, but more of his past with Katherine. I recently broke up with someone, two months already, and I'm ok, but still, there are the nights were you feel lonely and sad, thinking about the past. And I am drawn to Bonnie because she represents a new love, a better life that will hopefully come true. So yeah, go Bamon! Anyway, enough about me.

I dedicate this chapter to Niphuria and all the other people out there who are grieving or at least going through something painful and life-changing. So here's to healing. ;)

Damon did not think it was possible, to fall in love just like that.

For a century and a half, Damon had submerged himself in all that was Katherine. It was what drove him on, kept him believing that everything had its purpose in his existence. Katherine symbolized the freedom he thought he had been deprived of when he was mortal, he could remember still how he despised his life back then, wanting to just break free and just live.

For to me: To live is Christ, to die is gain. Philippians 1:21. It was one of the Biblical verses he remembers by heart, the priest had preached about eternal life days before he met his personal savior. He didn't realize how literal the verse would be applied in his life. For Damon Salvatore, Jesus Christ had come to him in the seductive form of Katherine Pierce.

And he was twisted, he knew, and it was one of the things he really did feel guilty of in all the things he ever did in his unlife, that he took that certain verse and changed Christ's name with Katherine. It was such a beautiful blaspheme and he relished it, his own secret sin, one he'd never share with the world or anyone else. For to me: To die is gain, and to unlive is Katherine.

Though she had been absent all those years, it was his own personal verse, and he loved her still, his maker, his freedom. He trained himself to be a better vampire, not only because it would make her proud and she would reward him creatively, but he believed, with his increasing strength, he could finally keep her to himself and ward off all other threats. In due time, Damon told himself, he would finally be able to protect someone as powerful as Katherine. She would finally look up to him for protection, and not have it the other way around.

Just as he thought how he would have been stuck in hell living as the eldest Salvatore disappointment, Damon had made it a point to keep the gratitude to Katherine eternal. I'll save you, Katherine. Soon, he always told himself, but Damon indulged his lifestyle knowing how Katherine would have wanted this for him. Besides, being a vampire was just fun.

Obsessed; that's what he was. And he did not need anyone to remind him of that. Stefan and everyone else he knew, dead or alive, had made sure they reminded him at least once or twice in their lifetime. You don't love her, you're just obsessed and obsession is not love. It was boring and repetitive, but now, it was starting to sting.

Truth be told, Katherine not being trapped with the other vampires had been a gnawing notion to him several times. And if ever she was free, he just knew he would break. Without his ring he would willingly walk into the sun and die a very painful death. It would kill the remnants of his rotting soul, and finally, God -ever He was still concerned or even there, would finally get the chance to place judgment upon him, especially for his particular blaspheme of His Word.

For Damon Salvatore: To die is gain, and to unlive is Katherine, right? God would mock him with that booming voice before sending him to the perpetual flames. And honestly, Damon was ready for whatever hell awaited him once he perished for good, because, he knew, there was no greater suffering than everything he's been through. No one could ever slaughter him like Katherine could. Only to her had he given that power, that power to hurt him.

When Katherine had been a no-show in the tomb… Damon had taken the time to analyze himself and wonder for a minute why he was still breathing. It puzzled him why he had brought this upon himself, and for a moment he felt once again, like his helpless, former human self, afraid and lost, unable to pick himself up from where he had fallen and made an embarrassing spectacle of himself.

What now?

Katherine is time, he tried reminding himself, she is my past and she is supposed to be my future. But he felt his own unbeating heart responding abruptly to her unsubtle ministrations that she actually did not care, that said heart began feeling distant to the idea of who and what she represented in his life and uncaring of her whereabouts, and plain angry most of the time.

A part of him wanted to leave it all behind, just run away.

But he could not. He realized he had to deal with this like a dangerous vampire should –with much revenge and retaliation. He wanted to hurt her, at least try to, but Katherine was not only an older, much stronger vampire, but she was, above all else, a most formidable woman. It was what magnetized her to him, kept him on his leash, why he wanted more and more even if she wasn't around at all.

So Damon took his time and withdrew from the world, but not exactly leaving town permanently. He had much to contemplate, especially on the subject as of what he should do with his existence now. Realizing you've been really just but a chapter of your beloved's life makes you feel nothing more but an empty shell.

And no one could ever understand him. That was what he was certain of, or so he likes to think.

"Never thought it would come to this," Damon announced lazily as he shifted to his human form, landing a couple of meters from the witch whom he spotted by the graveyard. He had been flying aimlessly through town, yet again grateful that he was powerful enough to be a crow and actually fly when he wanted or needed to escape. Not that he was a coward. It's just that almost every mortal he knew always had this wish to 'just fly'. The perks of being a creature of the dark, he thought smugly. So he landed here, a good distance from her, just in case she planned to set him on fire…

The Bennet witch responded with a roll of eyes. "Come to what, exactly?"

"You becoming so boring," he responded easily, squatting on the grass, careful to not stain his suit, and stared at the tombstone that caught Bonnie's attention. With mindless fingers he started to pull on the grass leaves one by one. When she reacted only by grimacing at him, he tilted his head, as if trying to look at her better. "Were you crying?" Of course she was, he could smell her tears.

Bonnie sniffed and turned away from his gaze. "I think you better leave. I'm not in the mood for this."

Damon shrugged. "We're very much alike, you know?" He watched in amusement how her eyes widened as his words sunk in and when she was about to open her pretty mouth to possibly rant at him of how wrong he was, he put his fingertips to her lips –an action that sent them both quiet and yet, so on edge. Knowing she was going to be speechless for some time, Damon found it in him to speak up, despite the tingling of his fingers due to the intimate contact. "I don't mean being the homicidal and sadistic type," he said with a laugh. Secretly though, he thought she had so much potential, especially if she were to embrace her darkness. "I'm talking about Tituba... and Katherine."

When Bonnie did not speak anymore, he knew he hit a point. Though Bonnie's love of her deceased grandmother was a spectacular thing in itself, it was just a better, innocent version of how he loved Katherine. He knew it was decades a different situation, but he knew that Bonnie understood this, notably when he went through such lengths of even saying his sire's name. Damon did not want to admit it, really, but he had to. This was a place of death and sorrow, and maybe, he could put down his walls a bit and try to make sense of things… for both of them. Not that he cared for Bonnie (though she was really interesting), but he saw that look in her eyes –the same look he had been seeing in his reflection all these years.

They loved Katherine and Tituba, yes, but obsessed over them a little more than the usual person. It was because they showed them this new kind of life they thought they could never have. They were the reasons they were living the way they were now; they had transformed them completely into unleashed, powerful beings. And if Bonnie did not choose to move on and still chose to hold onto her grandmother's memory with a grudge, she would end up, too, like the vacant thing that he was, living only for selfishness and revenge. They would truly become alike, close to the same sense Bonnie had alluded to, hurting and killing people along the way while holding onto something that was not real, something that did not even care anymore.

"Don't make the same mistake and let… whatever this is, consume you," the vampire said. "I should know, remember? I am old as your great great greaaaat grandmother…" You're better than that, better than me, he wanted to say.

It took a while till he heard her let out a long sigh. He was afraid to get a glimpse of her green orbs, fearing that the loneliness was still there, terrified she'll see through him, because really, they both knew she's seen and heard more than enough. Even the sappiness of this moment was getting to him.

"Never thought it would come to this," Bonnie said, breaking the silence. "You becoming so boring." He was about to react when she beat him to it, catching him off guard. "Wait," she said, fake concern plastered all over her features. "Were you crying?" She rolled her eyes, stood up and dusted off her pants. She was about to get her things from the ground, but he flitted fast enough to do it for her. Handing her purse back to her, she said, face downcast but eyes hopeful, "Thank you."

Damon did not let go, just took a while and breathed in the air between them. She smelled so nice, fresh and sweet. "No. Thank you." As he watched her look up at him with her green orbs, he was reminded how there was always this, a new life of hope ahead. A witch indeed, he thought, because the smile on her full lips was infectious, he almost wanted to kiss her for just being herself.

But he was left alone standing there, hands empty, watching her step inside her car and leave. As she drove away, he glanced back on Tituba's gravestone and finally grinned. "This epiphany thing is better than I thought," he said.

Don't you dare, Salvatore, he could almost hear Tituba scold him from wherever she was… Don't you dare get ideas!

"Oh, but I've always, always been a bad boy," Damon said, giving Tituba a wink, but giving her grave one sincere bow of respect (and apology), turned crow, and flew high up in the air where all there was to see were blue skies and clouds and the little blue Prius driving back to town.

Damon didn't think it was possible, moving on for real, but he was starting to change his mind.

AN: Thank you for reading. ;) It would be nice to know what you guys think. :)