Damon had left Elena together with Caroline and a couple of bottles of bourbon, drowning their sorrows after the news of Bonnie’s departure. He’d stuck around long enough to make sure she was okay and pay lip-service to offering support before slipping away. Once he was alone, he’d headed straight to Dive where he’d installed himself at the bar and told the bartender to make sure his glass of bourbon was never empty.
Losing Bonnie was a heavy blow, especially after the last few months when it had felt like they were actually starting to make some progress in the war against COS. Damon didn’t know what to do with the mess of emotions he was feeling now. Not for the first time, the idea of going home, back to their own world, seemed appealing. His motivation for staying had definitely taken a hit. If it wasn’t for Stefan, he wasn’t sure he’d still be in Atlantis, war or no war.
He knew Elena would be there for him whenever he wanted to open up about it all but right then he didn’t know how to put how he was feeling into words, let alone have a rational conversation about it. Tonight, his plan was just to drink until there was more bourbon in his veins than blood.
A hand clapped on the back of Damon’s neck, remaining there for a moment before sliding to his shoulder. Stefan knew that Caroline and Elena had one another - knew that they would always have that unshakable bond - but he also knew that someone else was hurting. He’d followed his brother quietly and as soon as he sat at the bar, knew it was time to join him.
He tapped the space next to Damon and the bartender nodded. Bonnie had been irreparably hurt by what he had done to Enzo. But that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate her, didn’t admire her, didn’t love her in his own way. He smiled softly.
“Let’s toast to her?”
Damon winced slightly at the weight of the hand on his neck, knowing immediately who he would see when he looked up. He wasn’t sure whether he was pleased that Stefan had followed him but he realised that he was glad not to be alone. He was hurting and he planned on getting very, very drunk, which was never a winning combination. Having someone around who knew how to rein him was probably a good idea. Although he didn’t care too much what the other Atlantis residents thought of him, he didn’t want to do anything to embarrass or upset Elena. He knew she’d been having a hard time feeling at home here and he didn’t want to make it worse for her, especially now she’d lost her best friend.
“To Bonnie,” Damon nodded as he lifted his bourbon glass lazily between his fingers, a pout forming on his lips. “May she continue to be judgy and annoying, wherever she may be.” He sighed and took a long sip from his glass. Bonnie might be judgy and annoying but she was his judgy and annoying little witch and he wanted her back.
“To Bonnie,” Stefan agreed. I’m sorry, Bonnie. He took a long pull from his bourbon and slid onto a seat next to his brother. One of the most important things about Damon? He wasn’t good at hiding his feelings. And Stefan felt like he could gauge his brother by the furrow of his brow … which was mildly spectacular. He sighed.
“I heard she goes back and travels the world.”
Damon put his glass down on the bar with a sigh as Stefan settled in beside him, staring searchingly into the amber liquid.
“Shame Enzo won’t be there to enjoy it with her.”
The barbed comment was aimed directly at Stefan but there was no real malice behind it. Being a dick was just how Damon liked to deal with negative emotions. If Stefan hadn’t learnt that by now, he really hadn’t been paying attention for the last century and a half.
Stefan arched a brow. “Yeah. It is a shame.” Knowing his brother and understanding what he needed were instinctual things; plus, he got it. And he’d made his peace with guilt over Enzo too. He even hoped (while Bonnie was here) that he might have materialized. Too many of them had to leave each other. And not enough were getting second chances back here.
“But she’ll be okay.”
Damon was still for a moment but then he nodded. Bonnie was strong - stronger than a lot of them. He knew she would be okay. Elena had told him all about how Bonnie had set off to travel the world in their shared future, keeping the promise she’d made to Enzo to live her life to the fullest.
Thinking about the future brought up the familiar torn feeling that Damon had been wrestling with for a while. He knew that Elena missed the place she’d come from, the life she’d left behind in Mystic Falls, but Damon wasn’t sure he could feel the same enthusiasm for it that she did. Going home meant leaving his brother behind, staying meant sacrificing the life he and Elena had there. There was no right answer.
“You think we’ll win this war?” Damon asked abruptly, glancing sideways at Stefan.
Stefan turned to face his brother, eschewing the sidelong glance to face him squarely. They’d been in battles for centuries. And Damon had been a better careerist soldier than he had. So, this question felt different. He reached out to fill both their glasses from the bartender’s bottle (which was all too intelligently left before them).
“I don’t think we have a choice.” He smiled faintly. “ -- and besides, we’ve blown up Wickery Bridge enough times that I’m going to be very sad if it never existed.”
A wry smile spread across Damon’s face and he picked up the glass his brother had just topped up. Stefan was right. They had to win. There was no deserting this time. The outcome would affect all of them, either way, so they might as well give winning their best shot. Besides, the longer they were fighting, the longer Damon could put off the decision of whether to return home or not.