out of my way, brat," Damon snarled, almost hissing in menace.
"You don't give a damn about her.You get out of the way - "
There was something like a geyser and Bonnie exploded upward from the water on her own. She spat out a mouthful and cried, "What's going on?" in tones to melt a heart of stone.
Which they did. Contemplating his bedraggled little bird, who was clutching the towel to her instinctively, with her fiery hair plastered to her head and her big brown eyes blinking between strands, something swelled in Damon. Stefan had run to the door to tell the others the good news. For a moment it was just the two of them: Damon and Bonnie.
"It tastes awful," Bonnie said woefully, spitting out more water.
"I know," Damon said, staring at her. The new thing he was feeling had swollen inside his soul until the pressure was almost too much to stand. When Bonnie said, "But I'm alive!" with an abrupt 180-degree turn in mood, her heart-shaped face flushing suddenly with joy, the fierce pride Damon felt in response was intoxicating. He and he alone had brought her back from the edge of icy death. Her poison-filled body had been cured by him; it was his blood that had dissolved and dispersed the toxin,his blood -
And then the swelling thing burst.
There was, to Damon, a palpable if not audible crack as the stone encasing his soul burst open and a great piece fell away.
With something inside him singing, he clutched Bonnie to him, feeling the wet towel through his raw silk shirt, and feeling Bonnie's slight body under the towel. Definitely a maiden, and not a child, he thought dizzily, whatever the writing on that infamous scrap of pink nylon had claimed. He clutched at her as if he needed her for blood - as if they were in hurricane-tossed seas and to let go of her would be to lose her.
His neck hurt fiercely, but more cracks were spreading all over the stone; it was going to explode completely, letting theDamon it held inside out - and he was too drunk on pride and joy, yes, joy, to care. Cracks were spreading in every direction, pieces of stone flying off...
Bonnie pushed him away.
She had surprising strength for someone with such a slight build. She pushed herself out of his arms completely. Her expression had changed radically again: now her face showed only fear and desperation - and, yes, revulsion.
"Help! Somebody, please,help !" Her brown eyes were huge and now her face was white again.
Stefan had whirled around. All he saw was what Meredith saw, darting under his arm from the other room, or what Matt saw, trying to peer into the tiny, over-full bathroom: Bonnie fiercely clutching her towel, trying to make it cover her, and Damon kneeling by the bath, his face without expression.
"Pleasehelp. He heard me calling - I couldfeel him on the other end - but he just watched. He stood and watched us all dying. He wants all humans dead, with our blood running down white steps somewhere. Please, get himaway from me!"
So. The little witch was more proficient than he had imagined. It wasn't unusual to recognize that someone was getting your transmissions - you got feedback - but to identify the individual took talent. Plus, she'd obviously heard the echoes of some of his thoughts. She was gifted, his bird...no, not his bird, not with her looking at him with a look as close to hatred as Bonnie could manage.
There was a silence. Damon had a chance to deny the charge, but why bother? Stefan would be able to gauge the truth of it. Maybe Bonnie, too.
Revulsion was flying from face to face, as if it were a swiftly-catching disease.
Now Meredith was hurrying forward, grabbing another towel. She had some kind of hot drink in her other hand - cocoa, by the smell. It was hot enough to be an effective weapon - no way to dodge all of that, not for a tired vampire.
"Here," she said to Bonnie. "You're safe. Stefan's here. I'm here. Matt's here. Take this towel; let's just put it around your shoulders."
Stefan had stood silently, watching all this - no, watching his brother. Now, his face hardening in finality, he said one word.
"Out."
Dismissed like a dog. Damon groped for his jacket behind him, found it, and wished that his groping for his sense of humor could be as successful. The faces around him were all the same.