til eternity - t - bonnie/damon - chapter one [a]
title: you know I will adore you ('til eternity)
category: the vampire diaries
genre: friendship/romance/drama/humor
ship: damon/bonnie
chapter rating: teen/pg-13
overall rating: explicit/nc-17
word count: 7,954
summary: "Run all you want, but it won't change anything, Bonnie. It doesn't matter what world we're in, you'll always be my wife." After being sucked up into what they assumed would be oblivion, Damon and Bonnie soon find themselves in an idyllic little town where they're free to find peace. Which is exactly what they have for fifteen years, until reality comes calling to bring them home.
you know I will adore you ('til eternity)
-novel-
I'll make you happy, baby,
just wait and see…
For every kiss you give me,
I'll give you three…
Oh, since the day I saw you,
I have been waiting for you.
I.
DAY ONE
Bonnie woke slowly, drawing in a deep breath, a yawn forcing her lips apart. She blinked repeatedly against the reaching arms of the sun, creeping through the parted, white lace curtains. Through half-lidded eyes, she stared for a long moment, her brow furrowed. There was a tree outside the window, dressed with ripe red apples, large enough that the branches seemed to bend under the weight of them. She watched the leaves gently rustled from a faint breeze, a bird walking along the length of one windy branch, chirping cheerfully. Bonnie watched it hop around happily as the dawn invaded her ears. When it finally flew off, wings beating quickly, she sleepily watched the sun crawl up the wood slat wall. She frowned, becoming more alert then, and cast her eyes around in an effort to understand where she was. The room was unfamiliar, despite the fact that she was curled up in a very warm, very comfortable bed. Soft sheets and a heavy blanket weighed down on her, one of her feet sticking out, her toes wiggling against the cool air coming in through the open window.
This wasn't her bedroom. This… wasn't her apartment or her house or any house she could ever remember being in. And, more importantly, the last thing she remembered was standing in the middle of the woods as the Other Side collapsed around her and-
Abruptly, Bonnie's head turned to the left and found none other than Damon Salvatore lying beside her, fast asleep. He was on his back, his head turned in her direction, eyes closed, deceptively innocent. The blanket was tucked only half way up his bare chest, his hair mussed and his skin… She could feel his arm against hers. He was warm. Without thinking, and more than eager to blame it on being confused and only half-awake, she leaned over, pressing her ear down against his chest.
He let out a strangled breath and opened his eyes a little, staring down at her, her hair fanned out over his skin. "Not the wake-up I was expecting, Judgy… You lost?"
"Shh!" she demanded.
He pursed his lips at her before opening them to, no doubt, get into an unnecessary argument with her.
She reached up and slapped her hand over his mouth. "Can you feel it?"
He raised an eyebrow at her question, in part, she was sure, because he had no way of answering when she was covering his mouth.
Rolling her eyes, she said, "Damon, your heart is beating."
His brows during down in confusion before he went completely still, and then his hand was reaching up to his neck, pressing in deep in search of a pulse. When his eyes widened abruptly, she sat up.
"You're… alive," she said, staring at him searchingly.
His fingers quickly dug into his mouth, searching around, and then said, "No fangs. I… I'm human."
Bonnie found herself at a loss for words. This made no sense. They died. The Other Side collapsed. So why were they here? Why were they living and breathing and… in bed together? It came out a soft whisper, a question more than a statement: "Grams?" She'd said she'd done something, hadn't she? She'd planned for some backdoor hope at reviving Bonnie, or at least giving her a chance at… peace. Anything other than oblivion. But here she was, in a bed, with a pulse and air in her lungs, and the sun slowly creeping over the window sill.
"So, what? This is take two on life?" Damon asked, pushing up to a seated position, his back leaning on two stacked pillows, stuffed up against the wrought iron bars of the bed. "What are your witchy little ancestors playing at? Were they all out of two bedrooms in the afterlife or what?"
"You think I know? I'm just as confused as you are," she returned, her eyes darting around thoughtfully. "Do you know where we are? I mean… Do you recognize anything?"
Damon took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he shoved the blanket off his legs and stood from the bed.
Bonnie felt a sudden stab of relief to find he was wearing pants. She wouldn't have put it past him to have lost them in the crossover, nor would she had been surprised if he'd decided to walk around in his birthday suit just to irk her. Walking around the bed, he made his way to the window and shoved his head outside to take a look around. She watched him impatiently, asking, "Well?" when he didn't immediately tell her anything.
"Nope. No idea," he replied, leaning back inside. "Little chilly out though. Feels weird."
"Can we focus? We have no idea where we are or why! Shouldn't we… I don't know, do something?"
He shrugged. "Like what?"
"I… I don't know. I just… This isn't what I was expecting," she sighed, her shoulders slumped.
"Look, we're dead… Kind of." He waved a dismissive hand. "Maybe this is heaven, or maybe it isn't. But until we take a look around, see where we are, we can't really do much."
"So what do you suggest? We just… go outside, walk around the neighborhood?" She raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"Before we woke up, you were ready to blink out of existence entirely, maybe you should just be glad that we didn't." He turned on his heel and started for the door then. "I hope this place has hot water, 'cause I need a shower."
Bonnie stared after him, shaking her head, and then hopped off the bed to follow after him. "Damon!"
He glanced at her over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, glancing around and checking the doors he passed. "Linen closet… Storage…? Another linen closet... How many linens do we have…? Ah, bathroom." He flipped the light on and walked toward the shower stall set up in the corner, a claw-foot tub opposite it. He reached inside and turned the tap, leaving his hand behind to test the water. "We sharing, Bon-Bon, or does the afterlife reserve some privacy?"
Putting her hands on her hips, she said, "Fine, but when you're done, we need to sit down and figure some things out."
"What, like a chores list? I'll vacuum, you dust. Preferably in a cute French maid's outfit."
She sighed his name again, heavy with exasperation. "Damon, this is not normal."
"What, in our completely abnormal lives, is normal?" he wondered, shaking his head. He reached down, hooking his thumbs in the sides of his pajama pants. "Last chance not to see the goods, Bennett…" He smirked then and gave her a wink. "I won't hold it against you if you linger."
Rolling her eyes, Bonnie grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, slamming the door loudly before she stomped off down the hallway, bristling when she heard his amused laughter chase after her. Of all the people to be trapped in the afterlife with… Then again, she wasn't so sure it was the afterlife. Maybe Damon had a point. They could take a walk around the neighborhood, see who else had traveled on over. Maybe her Grams was somewhere out there and she could explain what was going on.
Deciding she would need a shower too, she took a walk around the house in hopes of wasting time. She stepped out of the hall and into a kitchen and dining room area, a large fireplace directly across from a quaint little dining table, wearing a small glass jar of slightly wilted flowers and salt and pepper shakers. The kitchen was nice, a long island in the middle, topped with a few appliances. Against the wall was cherry wood countertops with a double sink, stove and fridge. The place was clean, smelling lightly of… was that cinnamon? The cupboards were filled with matching plates, cups, and bowls, silver pots and pans, the fridge was stocked with food, and a Kiss the Cook apron hung from a hook on the wall beside a calendar. There was a pantry, overflowing with everything she could think of, and a small closet with a mop, broom, and dust pan.
Moving through the kitchen, she paused beside the front door, a window set in it to see whoever came knocking. She could hear the faint song of a wind chime and peered outside to the small porch, a creaking swing gently dancing. There were various pots of flowers and plants set all around and the yard was nicely kept, a healthy green and newly mowed. There were stones set in a pathway leading down a small hill to the sidewalk. The driveway had a silver Prius in it, the keys of which hung on a hook by the door, over where a three or four different pairs of men's and women's shoes sat. A coat rack wore a nice autumn jacket she assumed was her own and a black and red checkered work jacket that looked soft to the touch.
She turned on her heel and hugged her arms around herself, chewing on her lip as she continued her curious search. There was a door leading into a small laundry room with a basket half full of clothes the other half already folded up on a counter, waiting to be put away. There was a couch, big enough for two people to comfortably share, end tables on either side of it, and close enough to the fireplace to enjoy its warmth. There was no television, just a radio on the island that looked out on the dining and living room. Bookshelves stood tall on either side of the fireplace, stocked full of every title she could and couldn't recognize, some in languages she couldn't begin to guess at. She ran her hand over a plaid blanket tossed over the back of the couch and wandered around a little more, pausing by the coffee table, where a few of her favorite magazines sat, a few more on natural herbs and homemade crafts. A mason jar full of cinnamon sticks sat in the center, cornered by two unlit candles.
"So, what'd you find?"
She looked up abruptly, briefly surprised to see Damon standing in front of her, rubbing a towel over his head, making his dark hair into messy, wet spikes. He was dressed. Sort of. His shirt was unbuttoned and left open, and his jeans fell rather low on his hips. She refused to let her gaze linger as a bead of water tripped down his skin from his throat and instead met his gaze. "We have food, clean clothes, a car…"
"Running water." He hung his towel around his neck and held onto the ends with his hands. "There's another room in the back too, thought it was storage, but it looks like an office, it's full of boxed up merchandise. Herbal, witchy-looking stuff, so I'm thinking it's yours… There's a few boxes you had special ordered, not even opened yet. Looks like you make the rest of it yourself though." He grinned. "Or maybe you have a few minions to do your bidding."
"You make it sound like there's another me, one that lived this life…" she pointed out.
He shrugged. "Maybe there is. Maybe we're in alternate-Bonnie's world. Where she's a normal human with a candle store and a hot boyfriend."
"Or maybe it's just a suggestion of what I could do…" She sighed, rubbing her hands over her arms. "This is weird. Don't you think this is weird?"
"Seen weirder." He stuck his pinkie finger in his ear and wiggled it around in an effort to get water out from inside. "C'mon, you shower, I'll make us something to eat, and we'll figure things out after."
Bonnie sighed, not exactly happy with the idea, but unable to come up with anything better. Walking past him, she made her way down the hall. There was a silk robe hanging on the back of the door, a deep violet color, that she assumed was supposed to be hers. Stripping out of her clothes, she tossed her pajamas into the laundry basket against the wall, and hopped into the shower. If they really were stuck there, she planned on using the bathtub to the fullest, but for now she needed to be quick. She wanted answers and she didn't feel like waiting for them.
By the time she got out of the shower and was dressed, she found the kitchen empty. Panic bubbled up inside her as she called out for Damon, searching around. As much as she'd kicked up a fuss about him being there and not worrying about their circumstances, he was still the only person she knew who was there with her. Since the door leading outside was cracked open, she took it as a sign and stepped outside, shouting a little more frantically than she wanted, "Damon!?"
"Over here!" he answered.
Bonnie turned and found, with some uncertainty, that he was standing in the neighbor's yard, petting their dog and nodding along to something the older man was saying. Bonnie walked over, arms wrapped around herself protectively and offered a forced smile. "Hi…?"
Standing, Damon stepped back and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close to his side. "You remember our neighbor, Mister Bernard…" He flashed his eyes wide at her and grinned back at their neighbor. "We're still working on names. It's been a busy month since we moved in." His hand squeezed her hip and Bonnie jumped a little.
"Yeah, yes! Busy month. So, uh, so many boxes to unpack and… stuff." She winced at her lackluster acting.
"Mister Bernard was just telling me how nice it is to have neighbors again. Our new place was empty for quite a while, no bites while it was on the market… So he's happy to see some new faces on the block."
Bonnie smiled at their neighbor, a man pushing, if not past, his sixties. He looked nice, dressed in khaki shorts and a plaid shirt. He wore his socks like her father did, rolled up as near to his knees as they would stretch.
"Call me Tom," he said, reaching over to shake Bonnie's hand in a friendly fashion. "I was telling your boyfriend here to keep an eye out for your other neighbor, Gladys, she can be a stickler about noise. You two keep it pretty quiet, no rowdy parties so far, but even so. Me and the wife had a barbecue this past summer and she put in a noise complaint. Eight o'clock at night, sun hadn't even set, and she was already kicking up a fuss." He shook his head. "Anyway, I gotta get going. Bette here won't walk herself. It was nice seeing you two again. My wife, Leslie, she keeps mentioning she'd like to invite you over for supper sometimes, but I noticed you get home pretty late. That new shop of yours must be keeping you busy. I've only heard good things."
When she didn't answer, Damon squeezed her hip. "Oh, um, yes, it does, thank you." Bonnie smiled awkwardly.
"We'll get back to you on that offer for dinner, Tom. Just as soon as we've got our schedules figured out," Damon told him, grinning.
"Sounds good. You two have a nice morning." He nodded in farewell before whistling for his dog to follow and started down the path to the sidewalk.
As he turned his back, Bonnie gave Damon's shoulder a shove and then turned on her heel to stalk back toward the house.
Rolling his eyes, he followed after her. As the door closed behind him, he said, "What? You're mad at me? I did what you wanted, I did some recon, checked in with the neighbors. According to good ol' Tom, we're just a normal couple that moved in about a month ago. City slickers." He smirked. "Wanted a break from the busy streets of New York and settle down somewhere nice, so we came out here. You have your own natural remedies store, sells everything from natural vitamins and supplements to the bordering-on-witchy grab bags that any old crackpot can sit in a little pentagram and make their grossly selfish wishes in. And candles. Apparently you make a ton of candles. Some for relaxation, stress relief, yadda yadda, and some just because they smell good. Speaking of smells good…" He walked past her into the kitchen then. "How do you feel about pancakes?"
Bonnie felt like her head was going to explode, filled to the brim with knowledge she couldn't quite process.
While she stood, leaning against the island, Damon raided the cupboards and fridge for everything he needed to make pancakes from scratch. Seemingly happy in his surroundings, he started whistling a tune under his breath and grabbed up a burgundy dish towel to toss over his shoulder as he worked.
It was a few minutes before she finally asked, "What do you do?"
"Hm?" he asked, cracking an egg over a large bowl.
"I own this… shop, but what do you do?"
He shrugged. "What? I can't be a trophy boyfriend?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently.
Amused by her, he said, "I'm a handyman or something. I do contract work. Build houses, odd jobs, just me and a hammer… And some guy named Danny, I guess. We carpool."
"You…" She blinked. "Carpool?"
"Mmhmm." He nodded, digging around in a few different drawers until he found a whisk and waved it at her triumphantly.
"Damon." She walked toward him, staring at him searchingly. "How are you so okay with this?"
He sighed, looking up from the pancake mix. "What did you think was going to happen when the Other Side collapsed?" he wondered.
She shook her head, her brow furrowed. "I… I don't know. Best case scenario, we'd end up in heaven or… something."
"Right. So. Here we are." He waved his whisk around. "This is something."
She opened her mouth to reply, but found herself without anything to say.
"It's like I've said… We could've… Pfft." He snapped his fingers. "Disappeared into nothing. But here we are. Might not be our idea of heaven, but… hey, Tom seems nice."
She blinked at him. "Yeah…" A frown turned her lips down though.
"Look, I don't know what it is, I don't know how long it'll last. But I'm not a vampire and, I'm guessing, you're not a witch, or the anchor, or whatever. We died. We are dead. And maybe it was Sheila or maybe it was something else, but we got a house, jobs, and a chance at… something. Something that isn't nothing. So let's just… ride it out." He shrugged, ducking his whisk down into the bowl. "Worst case scenario, it's temporary, we get ripped out of here too. So why not just let things happen?"
"Let things happen…?" She shook her head. "Since when do you just go with the flow and not try to change it?"
He sighed. "Maybe I'm tired." He lifted his shoulders high in a shrug. "I got Stefan back. He's alive. That's all I wanted. I knew going into this thing I might not walk away. I knew the chances of me walking away, unscathed, were small. It's over. This is where I am. Maybe in a few days or a week or whatever, that won't be enough and we'll start tracking down leads and see what we can do about changing it. But for right now…" He raised an eyebrow. "I wanna eat a pancake."
She stared at him and gave a soft sigh.
"What about you, Bon-Bon?" He grinned teasingly. "You wanna pancake?"
Despite herself, she gave him a smile. "Better be the best pancake I've ever had in the afterlife, Salvatore."
He smirked then, chuckling under his breath. "Coming right up."
DAY THREE
"You know, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to give me the bed... The couch is comfortable. Or the floor…"
Damon readjusted the pillows under his head and arched an eyebrow at her. "If it's so comfortable, why don't you sleep on it."
Bonnie pursed her lips at him and flopped backwards on the bed, tucking an arm behind her head. "Fine, so it's not comfortable long term. But maybe we should get another bed or something, put it in the office…"
"Because you have so much room in the office," he mocked.
Turning onto her side, she glared at him. "Instead of shooting down my ideas, you could try offering some of your own!"
"Here's an idea," he said, mock-cheerfully. "Go to sleep." With that, he closed his eyes, playing at rest.
Bonnie glared at him a while longer, but eventually turned back over. "We're talking about this in the morning," she warned him.
"It's a bed, Bennett. You stay on your side, I'll stay on mine. If something about that changes, then we'll talk."
She pursed her lips. "Sounds a lot like you want to keep sharing, Damon."
"I've had worse bed partners," he muttered. "Not by a lot. But worse all the same."
"Is this the part where I swoon?" she snarked.
"Preferably it's where you shut up and go to sleep."
Bonnie stayed quiet for all of six seconds before rolling over onto her side. "I don't get it. You used to want as much space as humanly possible between us. So what's the difference now?"
Groaning irritably, Damon rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You're not going to stop, are you?" He laughed humorlessly. "Of course not. You know, I'm beginning to think this is actually hell."
"You want hell, I can give you hell," she warned.
Sighing, long and loud, he shook his head and, in an uncharacteristically honest moment, admitted, "It's comforting, all right?"
She blinked. "What?"
"I find it comforting that you're there. I go to sleep, you're there. I wake up, you're there. You're the only familiar thing I have here. I'm sure there's a ton of people we'd both rather be sleeping beside, but this is it. It's just us. So yes, I want to keep sharing the bed, because as much as we'd like it to be different, we're all we've got." He smirked at her, but there was no malice there.
Bonnie stared at him a long moment, her shoulders slowly loosening up. She was sure she would regret it later, there was no doubt he would get on her nerves again, and soon. But in that moment, she understood what he meant, and she couldn't help but agree. When she woke in the mornings, there was a stab of relief to find him still there. The world they were in was normal, so far as she could tell, but it was still strange, in the way things were when they weren't familiar. She wasn't quite sure how they got there, or how long it would last, but she was glad that she wasn't alone. So maybe he wasn't who she wanted to be falling asleep beside or waking up next to, but he would do. "Okay."
"Okay?"
She nodded and then turned over, facing the window. "For now… Temporarily… Okay."
He didn't say anything, but she knew he heard her.
Eventually, when they weren't so desperate for any kind of familiarity, then they would figure it out. If that meant getting separate places or just separate rooms, then so be it. Until then, maybe having him right there wasn't the worst. At least he didn't snore.
"For the record, you talk in your sleep, so… if anyone's getting the raw deal here, it's me."
Never mind. Bonnie grabbed her pillow out from beneath her head and socked him in the face with it. "Shut up," she told him before tucking her pillow back under head. "And go to sleep before I change my mind."
There was a pause then before, amusement clear in his voice, he answered, "Yes, dear."
[continue.]