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Who: Damon Salvatore + OTA (but he's going to attack people who annoys him, just so you know)
Where: around mansion
When: 24th of July - 30th of July
Rating: PG-13 at least
Summary: Elena disappeared. Damon is a mess.
The Story:

Damon cannot find Elena anywhere. Never mind that the last time he saw her she was defending the asshole that tried to kill him. She is nowhere in the mansion at all, and Damon searches each and every single corner for her, busting down doors, looking for her wherever he can look as he drinks from multiple bottles of bourbon. He always has one in hand as he darts around the mansion, shoving down doors, rough housing people who might know where Elena's at. No one has satisfying answers.

He's dangerous.

He's angry.

He's not to be messed with at the moment, tearing down the hallways, flipping over shelves and anything that happens to be in his way in his anger, in his sheer frustration

and refusal to accept. He leaves a path of destruction wherever he goes, broken tables, holes in walls, a path of destruction left behind him. Broken doors and broken walls.

Damon doesn't give a fuck.

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Damon's words echo against the walls of her room. Surely they weren't real. He said something else, something that was possible and fixable. They sink in on some level, leading Bonnie to examine herself for proof. To feel her own heartbeat, rub at her eyes. She stares at her hands, and then up at Damon's face.

"No."

Finally, she tears herself away from him to launch herself off of the bed and scramble into her bathroom. The mirror's covered, so she rips the shirt off of it to stare. Those are her eyes, aren't they? Her hair, her skin. Her tears. Her voice as it makes it own echo in the small tiled room.

"No, no. No." Bonnie moves back away from the mirror-- sharply remembering that mirrors here aren't kind. "But where's Elena?"

Damon pushes himself up to his feet abruptly, following after her to the bathroom as she looks into the mirror in the bathroom. He stares at her from where he is in the doorway. He is the worst possible person to be here right now, because he has no idea how to help at all, and he actually wants to for once, but-

"She's not here."

It's said sharply in a low voice as she looks at herself in the mirror.

"You died trying to find her--" No, that's not quite true. "You died because of me but not on purpose." For once, he murdered someone accidentally. "How- how do you... feel?"

Is it weird?

Slow, Bonnie's eyes move from her hands up to Damon's face. Her mouth hangs open in shock.

"How do I feel?" With Damon, it's easier for Bonnie to feel her anger. To not worry about hurting his feelings-- or care at all for that matter. It's OK to let it all burn underneath her skin and flash out through bared teeth and flushed cheeks.

"I died. How you think I feel?" Her th-- comes rushing like the hiss of a snake, saying without words: you don't think. Do you, Damon?

No, Damon doesn't think. He reacts. He acts. He feels too much, and he hears what isn't said there too in the venom of her words. He accepts it. He accepts anger lashed out his way easier than he accepts anything else (vulnerability, genuine reaching out). He wants to be hated. It's easier that way.

It's not far from the truth. People can't expect good that he doesn't have if he never does anything good.

"I don't know! That's why I asked if you were okay. I didn't know that was going to happen or I wouldn't have done it."

He didn't realize- He didn't know Wonderland would fight back so hard instead of just saying, No Elena here. And then she died from too much, and he crushed her chest, and- and- anger. She wants to be angry (and he knows what that is like, he knows what it is like to need to be angry because it's easier to feel), and he can give her a way to feel that and express it. It's about all he feels capable of doing.

"Your boyfriend showed."

Damon is a series of almosts.

He almost just had a real conversation with Bonnie. But then he mentions Peter and her eyes narrow with suspicion. Her mouth snaps shut and she's climbing to her feet and into his space in what probably takes forever from his stupid vampire perspective.

God there was a time she was so afraid of him her bones rattled with it. And even then she wouldn't back down. Now, she's got a death under her belt and a best friend who's missing and-- Damon. She's just got Damon. What a cruel consolation prize.

"What did you do." It's not a question. It's an order. "If you touched him, I swaer to god, Damon..."

Damon doesn't move as she crosses the distance between them. He has already lived the reality of her dead against his hands, her chest crunched within his grasp. He is not going to hurt her (again) though they all have every reason to be afraid of him (in the past, now too). He never really changes enough, because he never forces himself to.

Whatever she dishes out, he will take and encourage, well aware he deserves it. He doesn't know how to comfort, how to fix. He doesn't say that he tried to give her CPR so desperately in hopes of making her come back because then he'd have to talk about the sound of her rib cage crunching against his hands. His hands are loose beside him.

"I didn't touch him. He saw you. He was freaking out."

He pulls the bracelet out of his pocket to hand to her.

"I compelled him to forget, to go away, and to come back in two days."

Bonnie's silence might be more frightening than her noise.

She wouldn't say she can see what she's doing, but she can feel the unlife in him. Her eyes narrow as she concentrates on it.

And then she just asks for expansion -- all it takes is a single artery in his brain. Bonnie moves toward him step by step, waiting for him to bend under her power, raw and unbridled. It's a simple act, but it's one she relishes.

"You wanna mess around in people's heads?" Her fist contracts at her side. All she needs is one, but Bonnie wants them all. "Two can play, you know."

Edited 2016-09-06 00:22 (UTC)

It doesn't take long. Damon knows it's going to happen before it does. He makes no move to leave or to run.

Bonnie is angry with him. She's feeling a lot of emotions. They are all helping to power her witch-y abilities. He doesn't really stand a chance, and it's not like he's trying to fight it, to get away. The first time she did it she wasn't trying very hard. He had a hand to his head as the pain ripped through him, but this? This is something else altogether. It's clear she's been practicing. It's clear she wants to hurt him. It means he's brought to his knees with a sound of sheer pain quickly.

He hits the ground, doubled over, as his mind feels like it's being torn to shreds.

Shouldn't she feel better after ripping pain back from him? Bonnie doubles down, holding onto him with her mind even after he's crumpled and keening in pain. She waits another moment for whatever it is inside her to subside.

Bonnie growls, visceral and rabid, as she allows his blood vessels to heal and stay healed. Her anger has boiled over, and she feels no real relief from its dissipation. If anything, it simply creates a vacuum where shame and fear rush in to take up the vacated space. Bonnie knows this is her fault.

The ancestors told you there'd be a price, girl. And you did it anyway.

Silent and still, Bonnie has no words. Which ones would be sufficient to concede defeat to a pocket dimension, anyway?

Damon is breathless on the floor in front of her as the waves of pain start to subside once she finishes. He sucks in sharp breath after sharp breath, but he doesn't bother pushing himself up to his feet. Instead he half lies there on the ground in front of her, mouth parted, staring at nothing in particular because he definitely can't look up at her right now.

The only words that come to mind are the same words he thought over and over again while she was dead.

"I should have stopped you."

It's funny; they're both here in the same room, and yet Bonnie's never felt so alone. Even Damon's ragged voice seems a far off hallucination. The muffled cry of a little boy who claims failure which doesn't belong to him at all.

"It wasn't your decision to make. We both wanted to find her."

This is again the part Damon has no idea how to navigate or what to do. He sits up slowly and then pushes himself up the rest of the way. He looks down then as he swallows as he stares at his own hands, folded tightly together. He realizes after a moment he still has blood on them, which is why he gets up and moves into the bathroom to clean them in the sink.

"And we didn't."

They didn't find anything. Bonnie still died. "Wonderland fought back. She was probably sent home."

And then she'll be back. She has to come back.

It might be exhaustion but it also might be numbness that starts to slip across Bonnie's shoulders. She remains in place as Damon cleans up. There's fight left in her but the cut of her tongue feels dulled. Monotone.

"Good. She should stay there."

Damon turns abruptly to stare at her like she's grown a second head, like she's just said the most ludicrous thing that could ever be said. Elena mentioned something before about how she shouldn't want Bonnie to come back, because it would be selfish to want that and to keep her away from Mystic Falls. He figures that's what Bonnie means right now.

But the thing is he is that selfish. He wants her to come back. He wants it more than anything else.

"Why? Wonderland is better than Mystic Falls."

And he has a feeling- a vague feeling he knows some of what awaits her. Why else would Klaus stop caring, leave?

Oh, Damon. You know what happens when you assume.

"Yeah. Except there's less buffer between you two here." It comes with none of Bonnie's pride and all of her nothing. She doesn't hate Damon right now; that would require some semblance of emotion. Blame on it rising from the dead recently but gosh.

She sure does nothing Damon right now.

His hands are in the water. The water is scalding hot. He doesn't care. He doesn't feel it. He only feels the avalanche crashing down on him along with those words.

At any other time, he would have lashed back out, but he had meant it even if he didn't say the words out loud (he would take all her anger, he would take whatever she lashed out at him with, he would take it all). This hurts worse than the aneurysm. This is the same words the mirror!Elena gives him daily, and he always looks. He always flips it around to read them each time until he gets so upset he tears it to bits. He breaks the mirrors in his room into glass shards but it reforms again. He looks again every single time like he's seeking it out (and he is).

She says the words. He freezes so suddenly, abruptly, staring at his burning hands as his eyes burn. He turns off the water. He doesn't look at her.

"Let me know if you want me to uncompel your boyfriend."

It's the last thing he says before he leaves.

All Bonnie had wanted was to find Elena. To protect her.

The door slams shut behind Damon, and she's left alone with nowhere to direct the anger anymore. Her thoughts turn to the journal Elena had gotten her when they first got here. Then they turn to the grimoires she'd foolishly scooped up at the price of memories she can't count.

Bonnie's been making terrible calls long before Damon Salvatore joined them in Wonderland. Before the future came calling one by one. Before she'd arrived here at all, Bonnie had attempted to assume control of decisions far bigger than she is.

She'd told Damon that her choices weren't his; funny, how she doesn't seem to have a problem letting him bear their ugly weight.

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