The Vision's Theft

Damon and Bonnie 9

"Damon I just got into this stupid fight with Mason," said Bonnie rushing into the living room of Damon's house. She froze. Damon was on the floor by the coffee table sniffing white powder up his nose.

"You going to just stand there and stare me to death?" he asked snapping her out of her stupor.

"You're doing crack now," she stated her voice filled with disappointment.

"Oh please, its cocaine," said Damon snidely standing up and wiping his nose.

"This is because of that girl you have been seeing what's her face!" said Bonnie angry

"Nooo, this is because I'm trapped in existential despair."

Bonnie cocked her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "Well, now I know your high because you're using words like existential," she said sighing. He was also starting to sweat.

He smiled, "You're having problems with Mr. Perfect. Lets see what I can do to make you feel better." He began to pull her towards the table.

She resisted and jerked away from him, "Just because your heart is broken does not mean that someone else cannot repair it."

"God Bonnie everything is not about missing Elena! I'd rather die than spend the last few years of my short life remembering how good I had it. Since the latter is impossible here I'm doing the next best thing," said Damon evenly.

"If you were smart you'd join me," he sneered.

She shook her head miserably, "I'm not going to give you anymore money if your going to continue to do this."

"Is this what this little visit was all about. News flash I don't need anything from you or Mason for that matter," he chuckled.

"What does Mason have to do with anything?"

"Oh Mason decided to play Dr. Phil and give me some very unwanted advice before it ended with leave my girlfriend alone."

"Be that as it may you have a problem. I'm not going to help you by giving you money. I thought you were just drinking which was bad enough, but this is worse."

"If I had a good side, not a way to get on it," smirked Damon. "In fact," said Damon shrugging, "I'm done with you." He walked back to the table about to sniff another line when Bonnie grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Don't touch me Bonnie," said Damon menacingly pushing her hand away. He grabbed her forearms and held her tightly preventing her from leaving.

"Damon let go of me," said Bonnie panicking she was looking into his eyes and there was nothing their. "Stop your hurting me, please," she said trying to jerk away from his grasp, but there was no hope he was just stronger. He let go unexpectedly and she collapsed to the ground. She looked up at him with horror in her eyes. She started to tremble scared he was going to hit her. When nothing came she got up and ran out the door. The brisk night air greeted her like a slap to the face. Running to the car she almost tripped over her own clumsy feet. She hid on the other side of the car knocking into it with a clang. Crossing her fingers that he didn't hear it. She was breathing hard like she had just ran a marathon. She brushed her hair out of her face and hugged her knees. She could feel her heartbreaking and tears fell from her eyes quietly. What just happened she thought. It was like he was a different person.

Damon went back to the table and sniffed another line. He needed another pick me up. He leaned against the couch and grabbed his drink downing it in one swallow. He crossed the line with Bonnie he knew that, dammit. He just was feeling so many emotions and they were getting harder to deal with every passing moment. He got up and walked upstairs to the attic. He avoided going up there as their were remnants of Elena up here random clothes and jewelry. Memories of the long lives he and Stefan had lived. The things they have collected as mementos. This place had every detail of his former home perfect down to the peeling wallpaper at the edges. The smell of mildew filled the air and a layer of dust had settled on the furniture and boxes as if it had been here for years and not months.

He looked around and it was hitting him all over again everything he loss. He picked up a baseball bat near by and began to tear the place up. He kicked a desk over sending random papers to the grown. He used the lamp as target practice and sent it flying across the room. Venting his rage at the injustice of it all he took a bat to a nearby chair. Throwing it down the stairs for good measure it broke into pieces at the bottom. He was making such a loud ruckus that it could be heard outside by Bonnie still kneeling by the car. She wanted to leave, but something in her was willing her to stay.

Damon barreled down the stairs looking for another drink. Kicking the broken pieces to the side. When he noticed that the door was still open from when Bonnie ran out moments earlier. He went to close it, but saw that Bonnie's car was still parked out front. "Bonnnie," he called singing her name mockingly. "I know you're still out there come out I'll apologize." She ducked down so he couldn't see her through the windshield covering her mouth to muffle her cries.

Damon wasn't feeling good his stomach was starting to do cart wheels. He was sweating profusely now wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. God he thought I need a drink. He turned his back to the door. "Bonnie," he whispered before falling unconscious in the entry way.

She got up and looked through the window and saw him on the ground. She ran toward him hoping he wasn't dead. She felt for a pulse that was going strong. He moaned something incoherent that she couldn't hear. She grabbed his arm trying to flip him over, but he yanked his arm away hitting her in the face. It stung and she tasted blood from a small cut on her lip. She was exhausted dealing with Damon maybe Mason was right. She just needed to walk out of here and let him handle this latest mess on his own.

Damon moaned clutching his stomach. He opened his eyes and looked up at Bonnie with blurry vision. Shaking his head he tried to focus. His mouth was so dry he could be swallowing cotton. He sat up his muscles seemed to ache.

"You look like shit," said Bonnie unremorseful. Angry that she was even here nursing a bad trip from getting high.

He looked at her his head pounding nursing a major headache. He touched her chin moving it from side to side. "I hit you," he murmured his hand falling to his side. "I'm sorry for every hurt I've caused you," he said gently holding her hands between his. "I feel sick," he said getting up and heading towards the bathroom to throw up. He was feeling weak and didn't know how much more he could take it. Bonnie followed close behind worried that something might seriously be wrong.

"What are you still doing here?" asked Damon sitting on the bathroom floor after just releasing the contents of his stomach. "You going to hold my hair back."

She looked at him sympathetically grabbing a towel from off the rack and wiping is forehead. "Maybe you should go to the hospital?"

"With cocaine in my system no thanks. I don't need perfect strangers judging me. I haven't been eating regularly. I'm sure that's all this is."

"Yeah, who would have thought booze and cocaine doesn't make the best meal," said Bonnie.

"Was that sarcasm I heard. I'm so proud of you," said Damon with a small chuckle. He got up from the floor and went to his room. She grabbed the small trash can from the bathroom and flushed the toilet. It reeked in the bathroom smelling like hot corn chips. She saw him lying in bed and he really looked like he was not going to make it. He was getting paler and was sweating profusely. She briefly thought about calling the ambulance without his approval.

"Do you want me to make you some soup?" she asked instead.

"No, maybe later. Come lay next to me," he said gesturing weakly to the bed beside his breathing labored.

She sighed and put the trash can down and laid the towel at the end of the bed. She slipped off her Vans and laid her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat working overtime and the effort it took for him to breath. She was trusting that he knew what he was doing by not going to the hospital. She closed her eyes resting tracing circles on his hand. She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat the rise of their chests in tune.

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