Chapter One: I'm Thinking of You All The While.

Hi All! Hope you like my new Bonnie-centric story. It's going to take place about 5 years into the future, but this chapter, which acts like a prologue, is basically the season 6 finale, with a twist. Enjoy and you can tell me what you would like to see more off in the comments and how you imagine the future will look like.

The twilight wedding had turned into a midnight massacre. Bonnie Bennet, twenty-years old, not counting her months in limbo, lay cold and dying on the floor of the barn, crippling pain wracking through her.

He sat in her line of sight, watching her with a small, evil smile on his face.

She wished she could turn her head, but she was too broken to move. She wished she could close her eyes but even now, the fear of what more he could do to her, kept them wide open and staring.

That was how her best friend found her.

"Bonnie."

Damon's voice was frantic, his face streaked with fear but his large hands were soothing as they cradled her face.

Tears of relief poured down her cheeks, the sight of him almost a balm to her pain. "Damon. He's still here. K…"

"Yoo hoo!"

Damon's head spun out of her view as he straightened to face the other man.

"I'm gonna rip your head off," he snarled.

The other man snorted. "How thick can a bloke be? I gift-wrap for you a dying Bonnie Bennett and it goes over your head like a balloon."

There is a long silence.

Fear gripped Bonnie's heart, eclipsing the pain in her lungs. "Damon?" she cried, frantic.

He was by her side again. His face was still fearful but now there was something else in it.

Guilt.

"You're OK," he said, but she always knew when he was lying.

"Damon?"

That taunting voice continued. "You don't have to do anything at all. Just walk away. Tell Elena you got here too late to save your mutual best mate. Who'll ever know except yours truly? And I'm a lot of things but I'm not a sneak. Ask my siblings. Oh wait… I killed them all!"

She expected Damon to say something to that, something mocking or spiteful, angry or threatening. Something that would make it absolutely clear that the idea that he would leave her, his best friend, to die, was ridiculous.

Damon said nothing.

"Damon, please…"

He swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie."

Fresh tears flowed across her face, sliding into her hair and the floor beneath as he bent over her, and pressed his lips against her forehead. There was a time, not too long ago, when that would have sent her into the clouds. Now it only left her aching with grief.

Then she felt the whisper of footfalls, as he walked away form her.

She couldn't bite back the first sob. Or the next. They tore past her lips, out of her very soul. The pain of her broken body did not wound her as much as Damon's desertion.

What was wrong with her? Why was she so inherently unlovable?

What had she done to deserve this?

She heard footsteps approaching, and she tried to lift her head, her heart shaking with the hope that it was Damon returning.

A pair of black shoes hovered in front of her – and her heart started swelling…

And deflated at the face that filled her vision.

Him.

Her nemesis.

Kol Mikaelson.

But for once, the expression on his face was one she had never seen before. It was not taunting, or threatening, or plain evil.

It was confused.

"That's it? He just left you?"

Bonnie wished with all her heart that she could move her head. This faux concern was the worst way he could have ever mocked her.

"You threw your chance to escape me away for this guy; bloody hell, for all you knew then you were throwing your life away and then… he leaves you? Because that doppel-floozy is taking a nap? He cares about you that little?"

"Please, just kill me," she whispered through her tears. She was cold. She was so cold.

"Why?" he asked, and now he looked irritated. "The whole point of this was that it would torture both of you. He'd keep you alive but he would always resent you for bloody Elena and you'd always be grateful for him not killing you and hating yourself for that at the same time. If I had known that he'd take one look at you, and go adios…? Bollocks! He couldn't even flip a coin at least? Heads he picks you, tails he picks-"

He would never finish that sentence. One moment he was talking, his eyes wide and manic, the next his head was gone, and Damon was crouching over her, frantic as he pushed his bleeding wrist over her mouth.

"You think I was gonna leave you all alone, huh?"

Bonnie grabbed it gratefully, her head spinning, barely understanding what was even happening or what he was saying, only just knowing that she needed Damon's blood to heal her broken bones and drive away the pain that was consuming her.

He was still talking, his other hand stroking her hair gently, but she didn't hear, drinking furiously, and not stopping even when she felt warmth rush through her body, even when the knitting back of her punctured lung was almost as painful as the injury itself.

Then he was lifting her up in his arms, and she clutched at him gratefully, her eyes fixed on his face, strong and beautiful, as he carried her out of that mausoleum.

This story now belongs & will be re-written and completed by the talented Leia Nahberrie! Move along to her profile at /318385