AN: I know this idea is rejected by some, and many others have ventured the witch-vampire baby plot. However, this idea came to me and I just couldn't resist. Went through something that almost led to this, so I can say this story will most likely, be like my last Damon fic, therapeutic. I hope the Bamon lovers enjoy reading. ;)
Dedicated to those who have love and lost.
Initially, Damon denied it. Vampire babies were extremely rare and he never expected to ever be one of those (un)fortunate, unsuspecting baby daddies. He knew Bonnie was one of the most powerful witches he has ever known, but he didn't think she'd ever do this, of all things. It had been a one-time thing and this was supposed to be the least of his problems.
So he kept on staring at her and he almost pitied her. She looked plainly exhausted, the fierceness in her emerald eyes dying. Life was clearly getting to her. She sat on his bed looking like a little lost girl, a huge contrast to the dormant goddess within her being. Her slim fingers played constantly with the hem of her baby doll dress –of all the things to wear; he found her adorable still.
"So…" he cleared his throat, trying to get her attention. "Why me?" On usual days he would have emphasized exactly why he was the best candidate for her magical experiment. But he wanted to hear it from her, for once, and hopefully, he'd forget for a moment that he had been used for her personal gain. He usually did the manipulating here, and it hurt his pride… sorta.
Bonnie sighed loudly. For a second she glanced at him, but reverted her gaze back on her dress. She was clearly thinking, and probably wondered if he deserved the truth from her. But she was going to tell him because there was no point in lying. He would eventually find out anyway. "Two months ago I found out that I was cursed."
The word 'curse' immediately caused Damon to frown. "Cursed?" Trying to be patient as he waited for her to answer, he distracted himself by the anger that seemed to coil in his body. As much as he feigned indifference around Bonnie and Elena and all the other youngsters in town, he knew that he will never respond nicely to threats made to them. If anyone should inflict terror, it should be him and him alone.
His eyes quickly made a quick assessment of the witch's features, like boils or leprosy, but she was obviously as flawless as she'd been on his bed eight weeks ago. Her scent was different, though, considering that she was with child. He loved her new perfume, he realized, because he wanted to get closer to her, sniff all of her in. Hold her close, keep her safe.
"I'm immortal, Damon."
The statement took a while to register in his ears. Being immortal himself, he never did consider his existence a curse. To others (his existence was the curse), maybe, but to him, not at all. Blessing in disguise, actually. "How the hell did this happen?"
"I don't want to explain. All I know is that it's all a big thank you to my ancestor Emily and her adventures with your ex-bitch."
The mention of ex-bitch, Katherine, was supposed to hit a nerve, but as of now, he was pretty much distracted. Bonnie, immortal? "Are you sure? How certain are you that you are, indeed, immortal?"
"Eighteenth birthday," Bonnie mumbled and looked away. "Suicide."
"What the hell!" Damon growled, and suddenly stood in front of her, grasping her shoulders, shaking her. "You tried to kill yourself?" It took him only about a few moments to do this, because the next thing he knew, he was thrown across the room. He hit his bathroom door, wrecking it in the process. His eyes widened for a second, feeling the surge of her powers go through him, sprinkled with hints of mercy. As he stood up, brushing off the splinters from his shirt, he glared at her.
"Don't lecture me, please," Bonnie said. "Believe me, I think I know enough by now. I'd have forever to deal with the consequences of my actions." She stood up from the bed and turned to the door. Smoothing the skirt of her dress, she kept her eyes locked on her belly as she spoke, "Let's just pretend that we're together and we're in love. Let go. I want to be happy for these nine months that I'll be carrying our baby. Being happy means having lots of sex. And I want to feel loved."
Damon wanted to scream at her, snap her neck, kiss her –he didn't know, but he couldn't. His throat had closed up and he was immobile on the mess that was his bathroom door. She had put a spell on him, fucking trickster.
"Nine months, Salvatore," Bonnie said, walking to the door. "And I'm not asking."
AN: Feel free to RnR. Reviews are a great source of inspiration. Thanks for reading! ;)