Chapter Text
Warm, thick blood flowed down his throat, the taste so delicious and the feeling so euphoric that he can't help but close his eyes. It's been so long, the only thing he drank was from the blood bags Stefan gave when they woke him up. This, feeding straight from the source, is the one that made the pangs of hunger fade away, the only thing that could fully satisfy him. The body in his arms is stiff and he could smell the fear emanating from her yet she didn't yell out nor speak a word. He won't drain her dry, of course, no matter how hungry he is, so with one last gulp, the black veins around his eyes receded and his fangs detached its place from her brown neck.
He savored the last taste from his tongue for a short second then opened his eyes to meet Bonnie's green ones, blown wide with fright, and suddenly the blood he ingested tasted rancid, rotting, burning his gums and settling heavily in his stomach. He pulls away and stumbles back, alarmed at the sight of Bonnie with blood dripping down her neck but a quick blink and the illusion faded, returning back to the pretty girl with brown skin and a different shade of green eyes. She was the same girl he picked up from behind the diner, who approached him to flirt and he entertained because she was pretty enough. Now though, the sight sickened him as he realized he saw an echo of his best friend in some of her features and that was why he accepted.
The girl still stood unmoving, her expression unchanging from the terror on her face, and usually, Damon would take a bit of glee from that but right now…
"Fuck," he muttered, palm covering his eyes as his mind raced. The news of Bea, Bonnie's daughter, and thoughts of time lost might have filled the forefront of his mind but it seems that denial can only last for so long before Bonnie's incoming death started to sink in.
He looked once again at the frightened girl, only managing a second before he looked away again. With a sigh, he met her eyes, focusing on the unfamiliar color, and compelled, "I want you to forget this ever happened. You were just at the back of the diner, you needed a break, then you go back to finish whatever you were doing before you met me and afterward, go home," he paused, catching sight of the blood that's starting to dry on her neck. "Drink some of my blood and clean up before you go," he added.
A couple of moments later, he absently walked back to where his and Stefan's room was. Even far away, he still caught sight of Bea by the door, leaning on the wall, her phone once again in her hand. The phone lit up her face in white light and though the height and features are all wrong, he could see the furrow of her brows and the frown on her mouth, a mirror of her mother with the focused expression she wore.
She looked up and straightened when she saw him, her face impassive. The white light disappeared as she locked her phone, leaving only the dim orange lighting above her head.
Damon approached her. "What are you doing here?" He asked.
Bea hesitated for a moment, probably thinking before she unlocked her phone and typed for a couple of seconds. [Do you know ASL?] She showed him a couple of seconds later.
"Never bothered," Damon replied with a shrug after he read it.
Bea frowned at him. Still, she composed herself and typed again on her phone. [It's fine. Waiting for Stefan]
Damon raised an eyebrow at that. "What are you, a newborn chick? What are you waiting for him for?"
This time the glare she wore was more apparent and the downturn of the corner of her mouth doesn't seem like it's gonna fade anytime soon. She stabbed at her phone and quickly showed it back to him. [Don't call me a newborn chick. He's feeding]
"Let me guess, still the same Bambi diet?"
[there is nothing wrong with that]
Damon rolled his eyes at her protectiveness, a small smirk on his lips. "Same old Stefan, didn't really think he'd switch anyway." She faced her phone again and Damon knows she has a lot to say to him, probably something insulting too, judging by how long she's typing and how hard she's tapping. While it's fun to rile her up, something he noticed that's also in common with Bonnie, he immediately interrupted her before she could finish. "Hey, I want to ask you about— about your mom," he opened, dropping the mocking tone in his voice.
She abruptly stopped but didn't raise her head, waiting for him to continue. The silence between them was tense and Damon could tell that the atmosphere changed into something heavier.
"What happened to her?" Damon asked, focused on her reaction. The scene he witnessed earlier when he was feeding absolutely shook him, and right now, all he wanted was to know. And if there's anything he can do to save her, then…
It took her longer to answer. Damon watched as she gripped her phone tightly, her gaze locked to it but unseeing. He could hear her heartbeat abruptly spike up and he half wondered if he should ask again but she closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh, opening her eyes once again and slowly tapping on her phone.
Gone was the irk on her face, and the coldness returned. Her eyes were stone as she met his gaze, her phone in her hand facing him. Damon studied her carefully before he read what she wrote.
[Mom is cursed]
"Cursed?" He repeated, surprised. He somehow knew that it was supernatural-related, especially since she's a Bennett witch, but he still kind of hoped that she avoided that, to live a long, normal life away from any danger. "How long does she have?"
[A week and a half]
Damon blankly stared at the words, mind racing. A week and a half, that would be 10-11 days before Bonnie's gone once again. It was longer than he expected since he didn't really ask Stefan and he just assumed she's on her deathbed. But now, knowing it, he wanted to ask why no one's doing anything about it, why they're just waiting and waiting for those ten days to pass. Bonnie, his best friend, the one who saved their asses multiple times and deserves to fully live out her life, would be gone in a few days. And when she's gone...Elena would wake up, and Damon should be happy about that fact alone, except he's not and he won't be, because Damon loves Bonnie and when she's gone…
"I would lose my mind," an echo of his voice said.
He looked at Bea's face, the other person whom he knew would be closer to his best friend than he is, and he expected to see her defeated and broken, but she's not. Her expression was as cold as before but her eyes are fire and steel.
"What about the one who cursed her?" he quickly asked.
[Dead]
"Other accomplices?"
She didn't type and just thrust the screen to him again. [Dead]
"How about clues? Records? Spells?" Damon asked insistently, a trace of manic in his voice, feeling the tight grip of desperation at the ray of hope. He grabbed her wrist firmly, impatient at how long she took typing the words, never before feeling how much he wanted to learn her language at this second. He wanted to see it on her face and expression, on how much she could do it, how determined she is, how much she is hoping for herself.
And when she stopped trying to pull away from his hold and looked up at him, giving up on typing on her phone, she mouths the words, silent syllables and faint hisses of letters, a statement she is set on fulfilling.
I'll save her.
She was not someone who is lost on what to do, there was determination in her eyes, a mirror of a girl years ago determined to protect her town and the people she loves, even at the cost of her life. Looking at her, at this moment, he felt a strange connection. It wasn't something he felt with Elena, that overwhelming, consuming feeling he's so familiar with, nor with Bonnie, a slow, burning connection so profound that he had trouble pinpointing when it happened and what it is. Hers was a camaraderie, that he felt her desperation and obsession rooted deep within her soul, that she's going to do everything if it meant Bonnie's survival and that if everything failed, her world would burn.
"You better," he got out after a second. "Bonnie is," important to me, someone I love, someone who rooted herself deep into my life that I wouldn't know what to do if she was gone, someone who made me feel things I've never felt before— "my best friend. Whatever your plans are, count me in."
She pulled her wrist away from his hand, Damon allowing it when he saw the hesitant but thinking expression on her face. She slowly tapped on her phone again and showed it to him. [If all else fails I'll turn mom] is written on it.
The idea occurred to him too when he thought of how to save her. Bonnie as a vampire. His best friend's face, as young as when he left her, flashed in his mind. He could imagine him standing beside her as years passed: powerful, unaging, undying. The idea of having her forever thrilled yet scared him at the same time. He could feel that slow crawl of something creeping up his heart, the same feeling he felt years ago which he thought he left buried back in his coffin.
He took a second to compose himself, to push down and forget the emotion trying to bubble up. This is Bonnie, his best friend, he wouldn't ruin a chance to save her life just because he can't explain half the shit he's going through. He nodded at her, "if we can't solve this, we feed Bonnie my blood."
She bit her lip, uncertainty, and fear momentarily flashing across her features. Still, she nodded back firmly. [Don’t tell anyone] she quickly typed and showed him.
"Alright, let’s talk about this later." He glanced around at the empty but lit area and the forest that surrounded it. "Don't wait up for Broody Forehead, he’s probably off sulking about something.”
Damon turned away, keys in hand, and about to head back to his room, but a hand gripped his forearm hard, stopping him. He looked at Bea once again, this time in confusion. An eyebrow raised, he silently asked what she needed and sharply snapped when she didn't respond, "don't be creepy, what do you want?"
Emotions ran across her face, uncertainty, hesitance, and confusion mixing with frustration and distress. She stared, eyes wide like she’s looking at him for something. Damon could hear her loud heartbeat, going faster by the second. “Bea?” he cautiously called out her name, can’t help the worry and confusion in his tone. There was a charge in the air akin to a live wire, dangerous and unpredictable. She emitted power, and Damon remembered that she's Bonnie’s daughter and of Bennett blood, one of the most powerful witch covens that ever existed.
Damon might've constantly gone up against people stronger than him but right now, with his arm in her grip, he stood frozen, unable to pull away. Uncomfortable heat surrounded him and grew in his chest as sweat beaded against his brow at the thought of her setting him on fire. He can’t understand why she’s doing this. His mind backtracked at the words they exchanged, wondering if it was something he said. Her grip grew tighter and tighter till he could already feel a faint sting of pain. "Ow, hey-"
Why? He caught her mouth at him, interrupting his thinking.
"What?"
Why, she spat out silently, each syllable exaggerated, did you leave? The scene would've looked funny if it weren't for the fact that Damon, despite the confusion about her question, is hyper-aware of the perilous situation he is in. Her eyes were flashing and he could tell that whatever wrong he did, it was something important to her and she's holding him responsible for it.
Damon wanted to ask what the hell is she talking about when the lightbulbs lighting the motel simultaneously shattered, glass shards raining down upon the ground as the area was plunged into darkness. Screams echoed around them as the people that stayed in the motel and diner responded to the sudden blackout. He could only breathe a sigh of relief as the power dissipated. He saw her alarmed face as she flinched back, letting go of his arm as she struggled to look around at the damage she did. Her breathing was fast and stuttering, her face pale.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Damon muttered and she looked up at him, her eyes wide in surprise. “Are you trying to kill me?”
"Damon! Bea!" Damon heard Stefan call and he looked up to see him rushing over to them. His brother looked worried, carefully scrutinizing Damon’s form but directed most of his attention on the young witch. “What’s going on? What happened?”
Bea didn’t reply. She just shrugged as she crossed her arms. Her expression looked guilty and a bit chastised. She neither glanced at Stefan nor at Damon, her gaze simply stuck to the ground.
“Did you do something?” Stefan suddenly asked him, his voice stern.
Damon widened his eyes dramatically. “Me? She’s the one who wanted to kill me,” he protested as he jabbed a thumb in her direction. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
Bea stepped up, using her hand to sign something at Stefan. Her burrows were furrowed, her hands swift before it faltered for a second to continue again.
When Damon looked at Stefan, he could only guess that what Bea told him wasn’t something he bought since his expression is familiar to when Damon tried to bullshit his way out of something. Stefan shook his head at her, his mouth in a straight, grim line as he crossed his arms. “Damon,” he called to Damon without looking at him, “I need to talk to Beatrice alone.”
Bea pressed her mouth together, petulant, but she didn’t counter his words and stayed on her spot.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Damon insisted as he threw glares at her. “If she needed something,” he stopped, thinking back to her question then, “she’s welcome to talk to me without attempting homicide.”
Her expression turned sour at that as she twitched, immediately giving up on resisting as she shortly typed on her phone. [Pot] And Damon smirked at that, momentarily forgetting what happened earlier.
“Damon,” Stefan sternly reminded.
Damon raised both his hands in surrender as he backed away. “Don’t be such a dad, Stefan.” He didn’t miss the twitch of his brother’s cheek as he scowled at Damon’s words. Damon entered their dark room, throwing another glance back at the both of them to see them watching him before he closed the door and putting them out of his sight.
He listened intently, hearing Stefan ask Bea to walk with him in a tone that left no room for arguments. Their footsteps slowly faded away till all he can hear is nothing.