"Broken lover, yes I made you believe

That I would be the one to heal you.

If you go now, out that doorway,

I won't say you're wrong,

But you know that I worry about you."

I need a drink. After locking up Elena, the only thing Damon wanted was alcohol to numb the rage boiling beneath the surface. The prom was a disaster and he no longer knew where he stood with the girl of his dreams. First, she chose his brother. Then, when he finally got her, it was thanks to a freaking sire bond.

Will I ever get the girl? He asked himself as he walked into the Mystic Grille.

It was late, and all the town teens were at the Prom after-party, so the place was mostly deserted, save for a few lone adults who needed to wallow in the misfortune that was their life. That was okay with Damon. He didn't need a drinking buddy tonight, but as he approached the bar, his eyes landed on somebody who did.

"You're supposed to be out enjoying your last few milestones of high school. What brings you to the den of self-pity?" he asked the brunette princess sitting at the bar.

"I could ask you the same thing," Bonnie sniped back.

"I'm not the Prom Queen," he said tilting his head as he leaned on the bar to look at her.

Twirling the crown on the bar, Bonnie thought about how random that was. She was totally ready for it to be Caroline, her overachieving best friend. She went prepared to cheer on the girl who created the perfect night for all of her friends. So when her name was announced, Bonnie didn't feel like she deserved it.

"That was a mistake. A miscalculation or something. I didn't deserve this," she mumbled.

Damon narrowed his eyes as he pondered her words. Raising his hand to get the attention of the bartender, he commented, "modesty doesn't suit you, Bonnie Bennett."

Lifting her face to see his eyes, Bonnie was taken aback at the honesty in them as he stared back at her. It was always a shock to her when Damon was a half-way decent person around her, because she knew the jerk that lived in him as well.

"So what are you having?" he asked, bringing her mind back to the here and now.

"I'm underage so they won't serve me," she said with a pout Damon knew she wasn't aware she wore. "But I'm pretending this coke is the strongest brand of bourbon I've ever had."

Smirking at her pathetic imagination, he said, "too bad your witchy power doesn't teach you the art of transforming your average beverage to one of more caliber."

Bonnie just glared at him in annoyance.

"Bourbon for the lady," Damon compelled the bartender, as he finally made his way over to them. "And the same for me, thanks," he said with his charming smile, that annoyed Bonnie even more. One day he'll realize his charm won't get him everything, she told herself, I just hope I get to see his face when that day comes.

"So you never answered my question, little miss judgy- even though I'm buying you your drink-"

"Compelling me my drink."

"Semantics," he said, enjoying their banter as always. "Question is: what are you doing here, Bonnie?"

The thing with Damon, Bonnie knew, was that when he wanted answers he'd find a way to pry it out of you. Might as well just give in than disgrace yourself by falling for that patented Damon smirk.

"I'm just tired of it all, Damon," she said with a sigh. "Our lives have gotten so screwed up in the past two years… this wasn't supposed to be us."

With the way their night had gone down and the person Elena had become, Damon knew exactly what she was talking about. But he also knew she wasn't talking about him.

"By us you mean you and your friends? Your lives before we Salvatores rolled back into town."

Talking to Damon without offending him wasn't possible for Bonnie, so she didn't even try. And Damon knew better than to be bitter about it. "Life was simpler then. We had each other and we were happy… we had Jeremy," she said, her voice breaking.

For some reason, even though he had steeled himself against it, Bonnie's opinions stung him. It was nothing new, but also nothing he could get used to.

Not knowing why he even cared what she thought, Damon tried to take her mind off of her pain the only way he knew how: by annoying her. Luckily, it came naturally to him. "Aw, did the big, bad Silas get to you by taking the form of Jer-bear?" he asked condescendingly.

It worked. Glaring daggers at him, Bonnie shot back, "I'm not scared of Silas!"

Damon's eyes swung around as the lights in the room flickered with her anger. Bringing his eyes back to her, Damon spoke softly in concern, "easy, Bonnie. As much as I'd love to test the theory of 'hell hath no fury,' this would not be the place."

Knowing he was right, Bonnie let herself be calmed by his smooth tone. Releasing a weary sigh, she confessed, "I don't know what he's done to me… sometimes I scare myself."

Used to seeing her so in-charge and capable of handling even the worst terror he doled out, Damon wasn't comfortable seeing the defeated look in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Sabrina, you're not the first girl to lose control around me," he teased.

His cocky attitude and lame teenage witch reference brought out an unwilling smile. "I'm serious, Damon," she said, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his remark hit the spot. "What have I become? I almost killed my best friend today. Jeremy's sister…"

A panic rose in his chest at the sight of tears welling in her eyes. She was Bonnie Bennett. She was the strongest of them all. Seeing her weakness did not sit well with him.

Grasping her shoulders, Damon turned her to face him. "Hey, but you didn't," he said to her in all seriousness. "And that's how I know you're still you. Even in the peak of your power, you had the control to stop."

He saw his words reassure her, so he tried to lighten the mood. "You're still Bonnie, the girl who lives to make my life hell."

Enjoying the small smile that peaked through, he added, "besides, it wasn't like Elena didn't have that coming. Is there a way I can borrow your power? There's some damage I'd like to do myself…"

Tilting her head, Bonnie studied the seriousness in his eyes even though his tone was light. "She's really done a number on you, huh?"

Damon turned away to study the drink that sat neglected in front of him. He had come for this, he thought picking up his glass, but talking to Bonnie felt better than the numbness that came with the drink. So putting his drink down, he turned back to her. "She's not the same girl I fell in love with. She's not Elena."

"Ironic that you say that," she said with an amused scoff.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he asked, "why?"

"Because she's literally the same girl you fell in love with. You fell in love with the same girl twice. First Katherine, now Elena. To say you have a type would be an understatement. You need to broaden your taste, Damon," she said with a smirk of her own.

How did this conversation turn on me? Damon thought to himself in confusion. Deciding now would be a good time to make her uncomfortable enough to stop picking on him, he leaned closer to her and said in a low voice, "I don't know. There's just something about brunettes with audacity that I just can't get enough of…"

Bonnie's lips parted at his nearness. As Damon's eyes involuntarily followed the movement, they both felt the electricity sparking between them. Uncomfortable with the newfound awareness, they both turned back to their drinks.

But Damon had never learned to leave well enough alone. Needing to satisfy his curiosity, he turned his head to look at her again. "Is it bothering you that Silas is haunting you in the form of Jeremy?"

It was questions like these that almost made her think he cared.

"Does it hurt?" he tried again.

Uncomfortable with his perception, she nodded hesitantly.

"Do you ever think you'll get over him?"

It hit her then, just how much Damon and her shared. It was strange, knowing that it was Damon of all people who understood her pain, but it comforted her nonetheless.

"Why do you ask?"

His shoulders sagged and she saw the fight go out of him. "Just answer the damn question, Bonnie," he said desperately.

"Do you think you'll ever get over Elena?" she countered, unable to give him what he needed.

Damon just stared at her. His unblinking gaze unnerved her. What answers is he hoping to find in me? Bonnie thought to herself.

When he finally opened his mouth to answer, Bonnie wasn't prepared for it.

"I don't know if any other woman would ever be able to love me as I am."

His broken voice made Bonnie's heart do something she never thought it would do for him. It flipped over. The fear in his eyes brought out her need to comfort. But this was Damon. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile.

So she did the only thing she knew could for him. She teased him. "Modesty doesn't suit you, Damon Salvatore."

The way his eyes crinkled at the edges as his lop-sided grin appeared made Bonnie smile genuinely in return. Who knew I could ever have a decent conversation with a guy who drove me crazy?

"You're right," Damon said, regaining his composure. "I mean, it's all I can do to keep you from falling in love with me as it is."

Bonnie laughed as he nudged her shoulder in jest.

In that moment, seeing the light they could bring to each other's eyes, they both realized that maybe there was still hope for them.

So they sat there, side-by-side throughout the night, adjusting to the startling awareness of each other.

For the first time in a long time, they finally felt okay again. If the world attacked them, maybe they could heal each other, like they did tonight.

They finally had someone to worry about them; to care for them.

And who wouldn't want that?

A one-shot I wrote on tumblr. I've never written Bamon before, and I'm pretty sure I should never try again. I failed miserably. This was the toughest piece I've ever written!

Please, review and let me know if I butchered the characters or not!