#bonkai

Mystic Falls is not the same that it was when Bonnie left it. In fact, it’s as if the town did a complete one-eighty, and left her behind in the process. Her friends were different—one erased the memories of her lover, while the other fell in love with her best friend—and her boyfriend had moved across the country without a trace. Even the town itself seemed to have a different chill in the air. The only constant is Damon—the man with whom she bickered for four months whilst being stuck in a prison world—who she now sees as probably her best friend. It’s weird, yet oddly comforting.

Bonnie takes a sip of the bourbon in her glass; it's a feeble attempt at blocking out the thoughts racing through her head. She feels lost in the new version of Mystic Falls, and only being out of 1994 for two weeks, she hasn’t quite found her footing. On top of everything being unfamiliar, this is also her first time in college being actually alive. She had been the anchor throughout her freshman year, making an already difficult transition so much worse. So now, as she navigates a post-anchor, post-same-day-repeating world, she adapts to changes she never expected to face. And in a town such as this, that’s really saying something.

Usually, Bonnie would be tackling these types of uncertainties with Damon. At least, that’s how they’ve spent the last four months. They would sit in the living room of the boarding house, glasses in hand, and bounce points off one another. Anything would be solved that way—questions, comments, concerns—and usually, they’d find a way to deal. But tonight, Damon’s having guy-time at the Grill with Alaric, and Stefan and Caroline are in the boarding house, and honestly, Damon’s bound to end up there too, with Elena, by the end of the night, so Bonnie’s found herself alone in the Scull Bar for a drink. It’s close to her dorm, to which she’ll retire after a few glasses, and she more or less knows the company. College kids, mostly. Some she recognizes from classes. Some, like Liv, she knows a little better.

What Bonnie hadn’t expected, though, is the average drunk in his forties to be present that night. But he’s there, nonetheless, and she feels him before she sees him.

The man comes up to her as the glass is raised to her lips. He puts a hand on the small of her back, effectively making her jump. He chuckles at her reaction and she can feel the ends of his mustache tickle her earlobe.

“Sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Back away from me,” she says immediately.

He moves maybe an inch. His face does, turning to look at her instead. Then, he parks himself in the chair beside her, but his hand stays on her waist.

“Get your hands off me.”

“No need to be such a snark, there, girl.” He snaps back. “What’s your name, darling?”

“Not interested.”

Bonnie looks around for Liv, but can’t find her. She debates using magic on him, but the scene is just a bit too sparse for her to do it subtly.

“Aww, come on. Don’t be like that. Let me buy you a drink.”

Bonnie shakes her glass. “No thanks. Already have one.”

“It’s almost done. Second round is on me.”

“I should be getting back.”

“Night’s far from over. Entertain me, just a little. What’s your name?”

The girl looks down at her lap, wondering if she can make an excuse to text Damon. He’s not taking the hint that she’s not interested. If anything, he’s only getting more audacious.

“Listen, I’ve had a day. I just wanted one glass and then to go to bed. I—”

“Come to bed with me. I can show you a good time.” His grip on her waist tightens. He rises from his seat to get in her face again. “I bet you’ve never been with a real man.”

“I don’t want—” she tries to push him off, but then realizes just how strong he’s holding onto her. “Get off me!"

“Come on, beautiful. You know you want it.”

“Hey, dipshit,” a sudden voice fills Bonnie’s ears. The new person pushes his hands away from her with a force, then stands in between her and the man. “Get your hands off her.”

“Yeah? And who the fuck are you?”

“The one who’s gonna beat you up if you don’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“Really? You?”

“I could kill you before you even blink.” Bonnie finally recognizes the familiar threats of Kai Parker. “And I will if you touch her one more time.”

The man stares at Kai. First, with a challenging look, but the longer the two maintain their eye contact, the more he starts to falter. Kai’s shoulders are squared to him. His posture is tense. The once-belligerent man seems to shrink under his gaze.

“Fine. She’s not worth fighting your obviously crazy ass.” He looks at Bonnie. “Good luck with this psycho.”

After he leaves, Kai turns to face Bonnie. “You okay?”

“What are you doing here?”

Kai only stares at her now.

She sighs. “I’m fine.”

“Did he touch you at all?”

“Not aside from what you apparently saw.”

“Good.”

“And why, exactly, do you care?”

“What are you doing here so late? You could’ve been hurt much worse by someone with his grip strength. You’re too small to defend yourself against men like that.”

“Thanks.”

“You know what I mean.”

Bonnie does, and she knows Kai’s unfortunately right, but she won’t admit that. If that man wanted to, he could’ve easily dragged her out of the bar. Not only did he have the upperhand strength-wise, but he had caught her off guard. Plus, with one glass already sipped down to the ice, she was in no position to fight.

“What are you doing here, Kai?” She returns her original question.

“Wanted a drink. Ric and Damon were at the Grill, so I had to come here. What are you doing?”

“Wanted a drink,” she starts. “Would’ve stayed home if I knew I’d run into you.”

“I just helped you. Why are you being like this?”

“Because now you’re talking to me. Thanks for the defense, but I’m good now. He’s gone.”

Kai sits in the now-unoccupied seat beside her. He’s quiet only for a moment before bothering her again. “I meant it when I said I wanted to apologize to you. You could’ve at least let me finish what I wanted to say.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

“No, you don't,” he agrees, “but you might as well hear me out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to leave until you let me.”

“Fine. Get it off your chest, then get the hell out of my face.”

“I’m sorry for leaving you behind in that prison world. I didn’t want to do it, but you didn’t really give me a choice.”

“How is that my fault?”

“I was there, completely alone, for eighteen years. You were there with Damon for four months before it became unbearable. And I know I did some bad shit to get there, but can you at least try to imagine what eighteen years in complete isolation would be like?”

She can. That’s what she feared would happen after she realized Kai was gone.

“When you told me you wouldn’t let me out, I had to hurt you to make sure you couldn’t leave me behind. You were my only chance at an escape, so I had to make that sacrifice. I didn’t want to leave you, Bonnie. I didn’t want to hurt you like that. But I couldn’t be there any longer.”

Desperation leaks into his tone, even now. He’s almost pleading with her; begging for her to understand.

He starts to remind her of a much more immature Katherine Pierce. Much less apt at controlling himself and his emotions but being on the same level when it comes to self-preservation. Katherine was ruthless and didn’t think twice before putting herself above others. But the longer she was around the group, her humanity slowly cracked through the icy exterior that shielded her from harm. By the time of her death, Bonnie even had sympathy for her, considering how they were both tortured by Klaus. Granted, it didn’t erase the crimes she had done, but Bonnie could offer her kindness before accepting her hand to bring her to the Other Side. (Even though Death apparently had other plans.)

Kai seems to be similar in a lot of aspects. She knows the story of his childhood, as well as things Liv and Luke had said about their coven. She can’t relate to him in that way, nor magic-wise, but she can understand the fear of being stuck in that god-awful prison world.

Kai learned early on in his life that he needed to protect himself—no one else was going to offer him a hand. Not even Bonnie, one of the first people he had met in decades.

Hell, he probably heard one of Damon’s speeches about how she’s always been kind to people. He probably wanted her as a friend, or an ally, but she stabbed him in the heart the first time he pissed her off.

“So, what?” She says instead of offering empathy. She might see a softer side to him now, but she’s not ready to let him know it. “Get out, wreck absolute havoc here, merge with your brother, and not give it a second thought that you left me?”

“What?”

“You make it sound like you cared about me, but even once you were secure because of the stupid merge, you still just left me.”

His eyes narrow. “How do you think you remembered Nova Scotia?”

“What?” She turns to him. “What do you mean?”

“It was Damon’s handwriting and Jeremy who placed the map where you could find it, but how do you think they projected into 1994?”

She racks her head for the answer, but turns up nothing.

“I had gone to the boarding house to ask if Damon could give Jo a letter from me. The merge had me feeling guilty and I wanted to apologize. From there, Elena asked if there was a way to send a message to you, and I helped them do it.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I care about you, Bonnie. I didn’t like leaving you there, so when I was given the chance to help you get out, I did.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Ask Damon. Or Jeremy. Hell, ask Liv. I know she’s around here somewhere.”

“Liv was there? Are you sure she wasn’t the one that projected them?”

“Liv was there to stab me while I was trying to send Jeremy in to help you. If Damon hadn’t given me his blood, little Gilbert and I would’ve died right along with you.”

She stares at the bar table. “That was when I…”

“He opened the garage to save your life. But he wouldn’t have been there if I didn’t get him to you.”

“Why would you risk your life for me?”

“It was the least I could do after the hell I put you through,” he admits. “Look, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just need you to hear that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you needed saving.” He swallows hard. “I’ll leave you alone now. Thanks for letting me explain.”

Kai gets up from the stool to go, though he doesn’t get far when Bonnie calls him back.

“Wait.”

He stops, turning to face her.

“Sit.”

“What—?”

“Just sit.” Bonnie holds up a two to the bartender and he brings them both a bourbon. She takes a few sips before continuing. “Thank you for the apology. It means more than you might think. Doesn’t erase what happened, but it does count for something.” He nods. “And thank you for helping me get out; for putting your life on the line for mine.”

“Thank you for accepting my apology,” he says quietly, taking a sip of his own. “Hearing me out. Damon always said you were the kindest person he had ever met.”

So he had heard those conversations.

She offers a small smile. He catches her gaze before looking back down at the table. A moment passes where they're still. Sitting in each other's company with the truth laid out in front of them. The energy doesn't feel tense anymore, but neutral, and almost strangely calm.

"This doesn't make us friends," Bonnie says suddenly, cutting through the silence. "But I do appreciate what you've said and done tonight."

"Does it no longer make us enemies?"

She thinks for a second, searching for the best way to word her tangled thoughts. "I'm not going to suddenly trust you because of one conversation between us but I promise I won't forget what you said. Knowing what you've done makes forgiving you difficult, but not every choice you've made has been unforgivable. I guess what I'm trying to say is… On a personal level, no, we're not enemies. But on a higher plane, it's going to take a lot more than this for things to really change between us."

Bonnie isn't sure that makes total sense, but then she sees him nodding along anyway. "So I can wave to you on the street, but not ask you out for coffee?"

"Sure, if that's how you want to put it."

"Could I ever ask you for coffee, if it means I have more to say? Nice things?"

"Verdict's still out on that one. Guess it depends on the grand scheme of things and how you react to them."

He nods again. "Understandable." Glass in hand, he rises from his seat. "Well, thank you again, and I hope to be able to wave to you soon."