16. hoppípolla (3/6)
title: hoppípolla (3/6)
fandom: the vampire diaries
characters/pairing: klaus/caroline, tyler/caroline, stefan, damon, tyler, rebekah
rating: t
genre: romance, angst, drama, humour, friendship (because i can't stay away from my ot3)
word count: ~5700
spoilers: none.
summary: "Do you remember what I told you, the night of the ball? The world's going to need some of that light after I'm done with him." Klaus looks up at the setting sun and with one breath, blows it out.
previous chapters: 1 | 2
A/N: Still dedicated to an acid-tripping ho named DJ (better known as queenofinnuendo), still with the confusing-but-not-really-anymore-I-hope time intervals, still very much Damon/Caroline/Stefan.
I hope I've done you readers justice (especially with the action-y scenes-still getting used to writing them). ALSO: I just updated put down your sword and crown, so go read that after you’re done reviewing this! :3
Edit: I've added dates and separation thingies to differentiate between the time skips, if that helps?
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hoppípolla
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circa 2012
The Original Mansion was her very own Jane Austen fantasy come to life-vast green lawns, ivy inching tastefully by the floor-to-ceiling windows, never daring to creep further; smooth white walls she loved to run her fingers against as they speed down the halls towards one of Rebekah's many shoe rooms.
In the late afternoons, when she and Rebekah turn endless cartwheels across the rolling greens, she fancies herself as Elizabeth Bennett. When Kol goads her into throwing pebbles at Elijah and Finn practicing their sword fighting from around the corner of the house, she giggles only the way Marianne Dashwood would. And when Klaus guides her to a secluded corner of the gardens - eyes forward, hands lingering towards hers that lay stiff at her sides: not touching, never touching-and draws her while she tends to the sages Finn seems to have an odd attachment to, she dares to let herself feel like Emma Woodhouse. Worldly, spirited, beautiful.
The way Klaus lets his eyes linger on her face-
(always her face, never her body, never the way Matt runs his hands down her hips or the way Tyler lets his hands roam all over-all over-all over)
-makes her feel worldly, spirited, beautiful.
Now it's nothing but a dark house bleeding into the evening sky.
Just that.
She tilts her head back, as far as her neck allows, and still she can't see where the house ends and sky begins from her place by the wooden double doors that make up the mansion's main entryway.
She takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell, fervently hoping Klaus wouldn't be the one to answer-he'd probably close the door in her face and it would take her twice as long to try and explain, and by that time Matt would be-Matt would be dea-
The door opens. "Caroline?"
She doesn't give time to explain, just pushes past Rebekah into the foyer, shifting from foot to foot and trying to keep from biting her lower lip. Her hair's frizzy and her cheeks are wet, but not from the rain.
Rebekah's giving her a look, and Caroline doesn't have time to decipher which one it is. Rebekah had a multitude of 'looks' for Caroline, and from the hundreds of those looks used a handful of them on a daily basis. The one she uses the most is skepticism-like when she wanted Elena to be pushed down to the bottom of the pyramid but Caroline had insisted she be second tier with the Original. There was also the look she has for the times she thinks the dresses Caroline's just tried on makes her look like an expired meringue but holds back, because Caroline's looking far too excited about it. There's also the look she throws around when Klaus and Caroline are in another one of their "spats", as she calls it, and she's stuck being the messenger.
The look she's giving her now is a mixture of that and Rebekah Skepticism as she rests a light hand on her hip and says, "I don't think he wants to see you right now."
Caroline lets out a laugh, bitter and short. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual. But I don't have time for stupid mind games right now, Tyler-"
"I don't think he wants to see you right now," Rebekah repeats with an edge to her voice, and steps closer. "Especially if it's about the Lockwood boy."
"It's not about that!" Caroline explodes, sidestepping Rebekah to trip up the stairs. "I need Klaus-Tyler bit Matt, Klaus is the only one-where is he?"
In a flash, Rebekah's in front of Caroline, a mortified expression on her face. "Tyler bit Matt?"
Before Caroline can even finish nodding, Rebekah's already grabbed her arm and started to pull her down a long winding hall, down another flight of steps and a few corners, until they're finally standing at the mouth of Klaus' art room.
His man cave, Caroline had giggled once, and Klaus had actually smiled at that.
"Nik," Rebekah calls out urgently, and Klaus appears from behind a large canvas, a dark smear on his chin and an annoyed look on his face.
"What is it now, Be-" He stops, staring at Caroline. He seemed to have an internal struggle of wanting to throw her out on her ass, or make her stand still enough so he can capture the look on her face with his oil paints. He turns to his sister instead, with a measured, "Could you give us a minute?"
Rebekah nods curtly and leaves, but not without shooting Caroline’s hands a pointed look. Caroline immediately stops picking at her nails and let her hands fall to her side rather uselessly, because the way Klaus is looking at her is making her want to shove all her fingers between her teeth and clamp down on them.
But because it’s Klaus, and because he’s still staring, Caroline forces herself to look him in the eyes. “I-”
"If this is you coming to apologize for choosing him over me," Klaus begins offhandedly, "I'm already over it." He goes back to his canvas and picks up a fresh brush, running his thumb over the fine bristles. "Already over you, in fact."
"This is hardly about us, if there ever was an us, which renders your assumption null and void," Caroline replies heatedly. "This isn't about you. It's not even about me. It’s about… it’s about Tyler-”
The canvas Klaus had been working on is suddenly off its easel and crashing against the wall behind her. He’s still standing at the same spot, calm as ever, but his voice is low and his eyes are on fire as he says, “I thought I told you never to say his name around me anymore.”
Caroline swallows. “Technically, you brought him up first.” The way he’s looking at her, she almost forgets why she’s here in the first place.
Almost.
She takes a deep (an unnecessary breath) and says: “Tyler, he-he bit Matt.” She manages to say the last part without choking on her words, a feat in itself.
Klaus seems to have calmed down considerably since his lash out. He taps the brush against his chin and steps closer to her, his feet casual and light. "And what, pray tell, do you expect me to do about that?"
"Klaus." She sends him a sharp look, her blue eyes bearing into his. "He'll die."
"Such is life, Caroline," he says, now standing in front of her. "People are born, then they live, and then they die. For someone who so insists on clinging on to humanity..." His voice trails off as he tucks a stray curl behind her ear, "you seem to have a hard time accepting that."
Caroline brushes his hand away impatiently. "Come on, Klaus. I never ask you for anything-"
"Except that one time where you asked I stay away from you," he interjects, circling her. She has no choice but to turn with him, keeping up the eye contact. "Demanded, in fact. After everything my family has offered you. After everything I've done for you. I don't take lightly to people who've disappointed me."
Her ankles twist around each other and she starts to stumble towards him, stopping just in time to reach her hands out to grab him by the collar of his shirt, knowing the implications of it. "Please, Klaus," she says, swallowing a sob. "Matt's one of the few people I have left-" her voice breaks and his eyes darken. "I can't just let him die. Just-" She stops and takes a deep breath, willing herself to look him in the eye. "I'll do anything."
There's a silence that Caroline had expected as the hybrid mulls this over in his mind, and she twists her fingers further into his shirt. "Please," she says again, her voice a whisper.
"Fine," he spits, and wrenches way from her to grab one of the empty glass jars dotting his art table. He bites into his wrist savagely and lets his blood trickle down into the jar while Caroline watches, transfixed into silence.
He hands her the jar and pulls his hands away as soon as she reaches for it- not touching, never touching-and she thanks him breathlessly before practically running out the room.
“And Caroline?”
She pauses, one foot out the door, whitened knuckles grazing the doorframe.
"I expect you to honour your part of the bargain," he says levelly to. He doesn't expect her to look back, but she does.
"I'm sure you'll make me work for it," she says, and smiles. Hard and bitter, like the rest of the words she'd said to him the minute that damned Tyler managed to break his sire bond.
"Oh, that I will." He smirks, running a slow finger across his lips. Caroline lets out a scoff and turns on her heels.
"It looks like it's going to jump out at me."
"Damon."
"No, seriously Stefan. Look at it, just hanging there, all..." Damon twists his mouth into a grimace like it's a bad taste in his mouth, "Sparkly." He's leaning forward in his seat, eyes locked onto the black sequined number that Caroline's brandishing at them, a violent look in her eyes-
(The same violent If-we-were-on-Titanic-I-would-sink-this-ship-with-my-Steve-Madden-boots look she's had ever since Damon (averting his eyes) and Stefan (shifting from foot to foot guiltily) stepped into the apartment.)
-and as if he isn't helping enough, Damon continues: "Count on Klaus to choose something so dark and seductive."
Caroline stares at the dress dubiously. "You think it looks seductive?"
Damon just throws an unhelpful no shit look, so she turns to the younger Salvatore in her rocking chair instead. "Stefan?" she asks, a hint of a plea in her voice.
Stefan shrugs. "Klaus has good taste. You'll look stunning."
"I'm not wearing it," Caroline announces abruptly, stuffing it back into her closet. "And I'm not going anywhere with him."
"Caroline," Stefan says in that tone of his, that very tone he used when Bonnie made her her Lapis Lazuli ring. "It pains me to say this, and I'm sorry. If there was another way I wouldn't even think of making you do this, but there isn't, and you have to."
"Two very legit reasons to wear a slinky, seductive dress and toast the night away with an evil thousand-year-old hybrid," Damon quips, raising two fingers. "Also, you'd look totally banging in it. I say go ahead, find out what he wants."
"Actually..." Stefan sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "It's more like what we want."
Damon and Caroline are both immediately on his case, arms crossed to display authority, and Caroline's even gotten Damon's crazy eye thing down to a T.
Stefan has to roll his eyes at that. "Who’s the bad cop?"
"Both of us," Caroline says curtly. "Sit down and spill your heart."
"Let's start from the very start," Damon follows up, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you two..." Stefan blinks at them, a little dumbfounded. "Are you two seriously quoting OneRepublic at me?"
"Arguably one of the best bands of our time. What's not to love?" Damon says (a little indignantly). "But seriously, brother. What does Klaus know that you know that we so obviously don't?"
The younger Salvatore looks from Damon to Caroline, then back again, before taking a deep breath. "Klaus knows about the doppelganger."
Lets it out.
Caroline's eyes widen, but Damon waves a hand, going back to perch against Caroline's bed. "Been there, haven't done that, totally planning on it." He raises a high-five-ready hand at Caroline. "Up top."
(Caroline ignores it. Damon looks put out.)
"How come I'm always the last one to find out?" she growls, stamping into her walk-in-closet and slamming the doors behind her. She yanks the dress on, snarling and groaning the whole way-
("Are you sure you don't have our landlord hidden in there?" Damon calls from behind the closed door. "Kinda sounds like you're having sex.")
-and storms out again, the dress billowing softly around her ankles. "I feel like a slut," she declares.
"In the best way possible." Damon bobs his head in approval. Stefan just rolls his eyes again.
"So tell me, how did you know?" Stefan turns to his brother, a frown on his face. "It took us all these years to find her, and suddenly Klaus does and you're not even worried?"
"Oh, I met her this morning," Damon says airily, already grabbing Caroline's pillow to deflect the coat hanger she's throwing at him.
"You what?"
Stefan sits up, face aglow with anger. "Damon! You didn't think to mention this earlier?"
"Relax, guys." Damon sits back up, pillow still held in place, because Caroline's missing Witching Hour for this nice little powwow, so he imagines her mood isn't in the best of places. "She's totally safe and not in Klaus' evil grasps. Name's Todd, by the way."
"Todd?" Caroline wrinkles her nose. "Really? The spawn of Elena Gilbert decides to let her daughter marry someone who'll eventually name their granddaughter Todd?"
Damon narrows his eyes. "How did you know Elena had a daughter?"
"I-" Caroline clears her throat, running a hand down her sequined detailing at her waist. "You know, just a hunch. But why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Kind of got overshadowed by the fact that Klaus totally wants to take you out on a date," Damon pouts. "Remember?"
"Which brings us back to the situation at hand." Stefan rests his hands on Caroline's windowsill. To Damon, he says: "We'll deal with you later."
("Ominous," Damon says with a round of jazz hands.)
"Guess I have to, don't I?" Caroline says stiffly, reluctantly admiring the soft ivory of the flower detailing at her neck and the flow of the dress. She turns to Damon, biting her lip. "How does she...?"
"Like Elena," Damon says shortly, casting her pillow aside. "More spunk, though-she had pink and blue streaks in her hair."
Stefan smiles softly. "Doesn't surprise me in the slightest." He surveys the two of them, his mouth set in a straight line. "So here's the deal-Klaus knows about Todd. For how long, we don't know, but he's definitely using it as leverage."
"To get to Caroline," Damon adds, walking to Caroline's vanity and picking up a lipstick tube. "Go for the red."
"I'm pretty sure he's not making any more hybrids," Stefan concedes, rubbing his chin. "And I think I know why he's in Paris right now-you know, even if Caroline hadn't fit into the equation."
"Why else would he be here?" Caroline asks with an impatient sniff, wriggling her mascara wand through her eyelashes.
He doesn't answer immediately, just gazes out her window at the glittering city against the dark of the night sky. "Rebekah's always loved Paris." Stefan sits back, his thumbs circling each other.
Caroline rolls her eyes. "So?"
"I'm surprised you don't remember," Stefan says, chuckling. "It's her birthday."
Damon blinks owlishly. "No shit."
Curled hair, red lips, dark lashes, rosy cheeks-Caroline's raring to go. She picks up her beaded clutch and gives herself a final onceover in her full-length mirror before stepping out of her room, a little hesitantly. She hasn't gone the whole nine miles to get dressed up in a long time. Usually her dates always start at the park and at the Champ de Mars and end in his bed, no lipstick and definitely no fussing with her hair necessary. Tonight, though...
She remembers a time where she'd twist her hands nervously in her lap waiting for Klaus to pick her up, to try her hardest not to look impressed at whatever night he's cooked up, to be so hell-bent on not laughing at his jokes (the rare times he actually made them), to pick at whatever meal he'd decided to cook for her at the last when she decided to be a brat and shoot down every restaurant he brings her to.
Damon's low whistle brings her back to reality, and she feels her cheeks warm up.
"Not too shabby," he commends, raising his glass. Stefan's in the stool at their island counter, nursing a beer, and even he sends her a grin.
Really, it's like they're forgetting that they're making her walk the plank in a designer dress into the treacherous hybrid-infested waters below or something.
"Speaking of shabby." Caroline eyes the both of them in disdain. "Why aren't you two dressed yet?"
"I wasn't aware a night of take out and The Notebook had a dress code," Damon says, but his smartass comment dies halfway at the glint in Caroline's eyes. "Oh no-stop right there, Blondie."
Right on cue, her cell phone rings. She roots through her clutch and rolls her eyes at the private number flashing across the screen as she picks it up with an exasperated grunt. "Seriously?"
"Where are you?" comes the tinny sound of Rebekah's screech. "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. You know my brother doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"I realize that," Caroline replied sweetly, "but it seems Stefan's having a little trouble finding his tie." As she's saying it, she clomps over to where Stefan is and drags him by his collar to his room, practically kicking him inside.
"Suit," she mouths, channeling Bonnie Bennett in her glare. She turns to Damon, who's fidgeting, the beginnings of worry dawning on his face.
"No way, Blondie," he hisses furiously as Caroline waves several paisley ties in his face. "I am not-"
"Tie?" Rebekah asks. "Stefan? Caroline, what are you talki-"
"Klaus isn't the only one who can call the shots," Caroline snaps, throwing a lamp at Damon's back as he tries to escape the apartment. It crashes against their TV, and the older vampire winces. "I want Stefan and Damon with me, or I don't show up at all."
Rebekah had let out an angry gust of wind, from the sound of it. "Fine, just be at Ledoyen in ten minu-"
"Also," Caroline raises her voice, but the phone flies out of her hand as she scrambles to catch the Jar before it crashes against the wall. She whips her head around and settles it safely back to the floor. "The Jar is off limits!" she screeches, vampiring her way to where Damon is to scratch his eyes out.
Stefan strolls out of his bedroom, fully dressed, casting the duelling duo a weary glance as he picks up the discarded phone. "Sorry, Rebekah," he says, hitting loudspeaker. "Caroline and Damon are... preoccupied at the moment."
(Meaning: Caroline's slamming a bag of frozen peas into his face while he tries to throw every single tie he owns out the window.)
There's a pregnant pause on the other line. "Rebekah?" Stefan prompts.
"Stefan?" Rebekah finally breathes. "I didn't know you were com-I'm not sure if Klaus..."
Stefan watches with thinly veiled amusement as Caroline drags Stefan across the room and into the shoves his face into the sink for an aggressive washing down (as he'd smeared Nutella all over his face as a desperate, last resort). "I'm sure Klaus will find it in himself to make an exception."
"Fine." Rebekah clears her throat. "As I was saying, be here in ten minutes."
"I'm in the mood for Italian," Caroline calls out childishly from across the room, tugging off Damon's rumpled shirt and trying to force him into a fresh mauve one.
Rebekah sounds disappointed. "But I've already reserved a table, and it's been so long since I've had Jambon Blan-"
"Pity," Caroline says shortly, tugging one of Stefan's ties around Damon's neck. Damon's choking. Stefan's sighing.
"Very well," Rebekah snaps. "I'll let you deal with the reservations then. If we don't see your worthless heads within the hour, I won't be responsible for whatever massacre that's bound to headline the papers tomorrow."
The line goes dead.
Damon slumps down, his face in his hands. "Caroline, Caroline, Caroline," he moans. "What torture have you set me up against?"
Truth be told, she has no idea.
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circa 2012
It's 9:21pm and she's been in the woods for hours, and all she can see is pitch blackness around her. Caroline hugs her jacket closer, wishing her skin would bite at the cold, hoping for the wind to graze her cheeks-anything, really. The shadowy trees around her are enveloping her in this strange stillness that seems almost tangible: pressing down on her chest and rooting her feet to the pine-covered ground.
She walks on for a while, letting her fingers linger on the rough bark of the trees, careful not to make a sound as her feet picks through the dried leaves and twisted roots. "Tyler..." she almost calls out, but remembers Alaric’s specific instructions not to.
"Don't draw any attention to yourself. But if you do happen to run into him," Alaric had warned, looking haggard, “don’t give him any reason to feel threatened. And don’t let him run off.”
Damon hands Alaric a glass tumbler filled with dark amber liquid-Scotch, Caroline guesses. “You look like you need it,” is all he says.
Caroline can see that Damon’s trying hard not to glance at the staircase every so often (but does, anyway). Matt's still sleeping upstairs, has been sleeping for the past three days.
Elena hasn't left his side since.
"Why would he?" Caroline asks, feeling her nails dig into her skin. "It was-it was an accident, you know how he gets..."
Damon has her up against the wall in the blink of an eye. "I'm not sure how long you're going to keep up this little charade, Blondie," he snarls. "He bit Matt, almost threw Jeremy across the field at football practice last week." He shakes her shoulders, eyes widening in the way only Damon's can. "And I come home to find everything Stefan gone, his room completely trashed, smelling like wet dog. So go ahead. Live in your little Tyler's Completely Flaw-free and Innocent bubble. Just know that Matt's blood?" He steps back and lets her slump down against the wall. "Completely on your hands."
Alaric puts his hand on Damon’s shoulder. “Come on, Damon.” But even that’s weak at best.
The glare-off between Damon and Caroline intensifies, the air around them heavy with with their hateful gazes, and Caroline thinks it’s never going to end until Jeremy pokes his head inside the room.
“So Klaus and Rebekah are off looking for Stefa…” Jeremy trails off, glancing at Damon, to Caroline, to Alaric standing kind of helplessly behind them, then back to Damon again. Must be Thursday, the roll of his eyes seems to say. “Bonnie's traced the woods-she says she can sense a couple of supernatural beings in there."
Alaric grabs his bag-filled with scary looking hunting equipment-and heads for the door. “Let’s get going.”
Jeremy’s hand is wrapped loosely around a wooden stake, which Caroline can't help but stare at. "I want to help."
Damon just nods. "Got your ring?"
Jeremy lifts his hand, and the ring glints under the kitchen light. "Don't I always?"
.
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Something-a twig? A branch? An undead being?-snaps behind her, and she whips her head around, fists ready, fangs bared-
"Woah!" Jeremy gasps, holding up his hands. He lets out a shaky laugh. His flashlight lay abandoned at his feet. "Easy, Care. It's only me."
Caroline swallows back the scream that had crept its way up her throat. "Y-yeah. Sorry, you startled me."
"Even with your super vampire senses?" he chides, and Caroline giggles weakly at that. Jeremy clears his throat. "Anyway-I thought I heard something down that tree yonder." He gestures at the dark space between the trees with his flashlight.
Caroline's lips tilt into a teasing smile. "Down that tree yonder? Really, Jeremy?"
"Whatever," Jeremy says, rubbing the back of his head. "I've been hanging around Finn too much-learning the tools of trade."
"Who knew werewolf hunting would come in handy to you, huh?" Caroline mutters bitterly under her breath.
Jeremy steps in her way firmly, his flashlight glaring under his chin. Caroline thinks he looks medieval and creepy and almost looks away, but Jeremy's got his gaze locked onto hers. "Tyler's one of my best friends, and him harpooning me across the football field? I let that go." He steps closer, and says (almost gently), "But even Elena drew the line at biting Matt. And now Stefan's gone. Stefan's older than Tyler. Stronger than Tyler. What does that mean?"
Caroline darts her eyes away and bites down on her lower lip and argues, "Tyler's not the only hybrid in town."
"The other hybrids in town know not to mess with the Salvatores, remember?" Jeremy reaches for Caroline's hand and guides her through the trees, ducking under branches that Caroline's surprised he can see in the dark. "They always come collecting."
"I just don't know what's wrong with him," Caroline says softly, eyes following the beam of the flashlight. "He hasn't been the same since-"
"Shh," Jeremy whispers urgently, hand wrapped around her mouth. They here dried leaves crackling around them and Caroline shoots a hand out to shut off the flashlight. In the faint moonlight, she sees Jeremy raise a finger to his lips and point to the undergrowth three feet away. She nods, and they quickly prowl to their one chance of concealment.
Jeremy's just ducking behind the bushes when Stefan's suddenly crashing through the thicket, panting though he needs no air, blood ripping through his clothes and even more blood smeared across his face, dark against the alabaster of his skin.
Caroline doesn't blink, doesn’t think.
"Stefan!" she's out of the undergrowth in a flash, gripping Stefan's shoulder as he sways on his feet. Jeremy's behind her, tugging her urgently, Come on, Care-like Alaric said: find Stefan, get the hell out of the woods, come on, gotta text Damon-
"He's here," Stefan chokes out, gripping the neck of Caroline's jacket. "Tyler's just behind-run."
Caroline barely has time to let out a strangled cry of, "What?" when there's a great creaking sound and a tree crashes to the ground not five feet away from them, and suddenly Tyler's everywhere: crouched on the upended tree-flinging Jeremy into the bushes-twisting Stefan's neck with a sickening crunch-knocking Caroline to the ground so hard she sees stars when she blinks.
"Tyler," she cries, struggling to get up, but he's on her, pinning her shoulders to the ground with his hands. His breathing harsh and quick, his eyes dark and beady and feral, his lips twisted in a way she's only seen in those movies her father never lets her watch-
"Caroline," Tyler snarls, his face contorting painfully as his fangs disappear, only to pop out again. "You gotta-you gotta get out-go."
"Get off of her!"
"Jer-!"
By sheer force of willpower, Jeremy's tackled Tyler off of Caroline, teeth bared and chest heaving. Caroline shuffles away frantically-God, no more, Tyler, please-swats something hot and uncomfortable off her face, before she realizes it's her own tears-please, no more, I don't want to see this, no, it's not real, no, no, no-
"Care, run!" Jeremy yells as he struggles with Tyler, and Caroline almost laughs-hysterical or not, she's not sure-because she's the vampire, she's the stronger one here, she's supposed to be telling Jeremy to run. She blinks the last of the stars away and stumbles to her feet, feels that swooping sensation in her stomach when she sees Tyler twist Jeremy's hand behind his back-Jeremy lets out a cry-
God, no more, Tyler, please. "Tyler," she rasps, tearing her nails at the back of his shirt. "Stop it-no more, come on, this isn't you-"
Jeremy makes the mistake of kicking Tyler in the chest and the hybrid stills, the ticking sound of the woods and the shuffling of their feet halting along with him. Slowly - dazedly, even - Tyler lets go of Jeremy (who backs away and winces when his arm hits the tree behind him) and raises his hand to his chest, where it hovers for a few seconds.
"That hurt," he says slowly, like it's a revelation.
"Tyler?" Caroline whispers.
"Tyler," Jeremy warns. "Dude, back off." His right arm, the one that isn't broken, reaches for the stake in his back pocket. Grips it. Grips it tight. "Don't make me do this to you."
Tyler doesn't seem to hear him. He takes a step closer, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "That hurt," he says again.
"Tyler," Caroline says again. This time it's not a whisper-it's a plead. "Please, no-I don't want to see-come on, we can fix thi-we can fix you-"
Tyler takes another step forward.
"Please, no more, it's not you-" Caroline's voice is a shrill one as her eyes widen and her hands wrench uselessly at his arms. "Tyler, I love you. Do you hear me? I love y-please, come on, let's go, I love you-"
Jeremy looks like he wants to back away, but there's nowhere to go-his back is flat against the tree and Tyler's staring him in the eye. Tyler raises his hand and the woods come alive again as Jeremy frantically whips his head to lock gazes with Caroline, and says loudly, urgently: "Caroline, tell Elena I-"
Tyler plunges his hand deep into Jeremy's chest.
A scream, loud and shrill and bloody tears her throat apart, a scream so deafening and bouncing off the sounds of the forest, isn't enough to drown out the sound Tyler makes when he wrenches his grip from Jeremy's chest, his fist horrible and dripping and oozing red.
Jeremy drops to his knees, that panicked, wide-eyed look still on his face, and Caroline realizes with dawning horror that his ring is nowhere to be seen.
"She's not coming," Rebekah mutters through stiff lips. She takes a deep gulp of her white wine, ignoring the frown her brother's sending her. "I told you so."
"She'll be here," he snaps, resting an impatient hand on the table, watching the tick of the Rolex glinting on his hand. He almost reaches up to loosen his tie-but keeps his hand on the table under Rebekah's watchful gaze. "Stefan will make sure of it."
"It's my birthday." She bemoans the miserable time she's having, whingeing about how she had wanted to go dancing, but no, you insisted... Pressing her pink lips together, she adds sullenly: "I wanted Jambon Blanc."
"And you'll get it," he hisses through his teeth, turning his head to glare at her. "Just-just wait ten more minutes."
"No need," says a voice from his left, dull and flat. "I'm here."
He turns slowly, his eyes going straight to her face. He lets a slow smile spread on his lips as he takes her in-the curl of her hair, the blue of her eyes, the pout to her lips. "Caroline."
"Klaus," is all she says.
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tbc
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fandom: the vampire diaries
characters/pairing: klaus/caroline, tyler/caroline, stefan, damon, tyler, rebekah
rating: t
genre: romance, angst, drama, humour, friendship (because i can't stay away from my ot3)
word count: ~5700
spoilers: none.
summary: "Do you remember what I told you, the night of the ball? The world's going to need some of that light after I'm done with him." Klaus looks up at the setting sun and with one breath, blows it out.
previous chapters: 1 | 2
A/N: Still dedicated to an acid-tripping ho named DJ (better known as queenofinnuendo), still with the confusing-but-not-really-anymore-I-hope time intervals, still very much Damon/Caroline/Stefan.
I hope I've done you readers justice (especially with the action-y scenes-still getting used to writing them). ALSO: I just updated put down your sword and crown, so go read that after you’re done reviewing this! :3
Edit: I've added dates and separation thingies to differentiate between the time skips, if that helps?
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hoppípolla
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circa 2012
The Original Mansion was her very own Jane Austen fantasy come to life-vast green lawns, ivy inching tastefully by the floor-to-ceiling windows, never daring to creep further; smooth white walls she loved to run her fingers against as they speed down the halls towards one of Rebekah's many shoe rooms.
In the late afternoons, when she and Rebekah turn endless cartwheels across the rolling greens, she fancies herself as Elizabeth Bennett. When Kol goads her into throwing pebbles at Elijah and Finn practicing their sword fighting from around the corner of the house, she giggles only the way Marianne Dashwood would. And when Klaus guides her to a secluded corner of the gardens - eyes forward, hands lingering towards hers that lay stiff at her sides: not touching, never touching-and draws her while she tends to the sages Finn seems to have an odd attachment to, she dares to let herself feel like Emma Woodhouse. Worldly, spirited, beautiful.
The way Klaus lets his eyes linger on her face-
(always her face, never her body, never the way Matt runs his hands down her hips or the way Tyler lets his hands roam all over-all over-all over)
-makes her feel worldly, spirited, beautiful.
Now it's nothing but a dark house bleeding into the evening sky.
Just that.
She tilts her head back, as far as her neck allows, and still she can't see where the house ends and sky begins from her place by the wooden double doors that make up the mansion's main entryway.
She takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell, fervently hoping Klaus wouldn't be the one to answer-he'd probably close the door in her face and it would take her twice as long to try and explain, and by that time Matt would be-Matt would be dea-
The door opens. "Caroline?"
She doesn't give time to explain, just pushes past Rebekah into the foyer, shifting from foot to foot and trying to keep from biting her lower lip. Her hair's frizzy and her cheeks are wet, but not from the rain.
Rebekah's giving her a look, and Caroline doesn't have time to decipher which one it is. Rebekah had a multitude of 'looks' for Caroline, and from the hundreds of those looks used a handful of them on a daily basis. The one she uses the most is skepticism-like when she wanted Elena to be pushed down to the bottom of the pyramid but Caroline had insisted she be second tier with the Original. There was also the look she has for the times she thinks the dresses Caroline's just tried on makes her look like an expired meringue but holds back, because Caroline's looking far too excited about it. There's also the look she throws around when Klaus and Caroline are in another one of their "spats", as she calls it, and she's stuck being the messenger.
The look she's giving her now is a mixture of that and Rebekah Skepticism as she rests a light hand on her hip and says, "I don't think he wants to see you right now."
Caroline lets out a laugh, bitter and short. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual. But I don't have time for stupid mind games right now, Tyler-"
"I don't think he wants to see you right now," Rebekah repeats with an edge to her voice, and steps closer. "Especially if it's about the Lockwood boy."
"It's not about that!" Caroline explodes, sidestepping Rebekah to trip up the stairs. "I need Klaus-Tyler bit Matt, Klaus is the only one-where is he?"
In a flash, Rebekah's in front of Caroline, a mortified expression on her face. "Tyler bit Matt?"
Before Caroline can even finish nodding, Rebekah's already grabbed her arm and started to pull her down a long winding hall, down another flight of steps and a few corners, until they're finally standing at the mouth of Klaus' art room.
His man cave, Caroline had giggled once, and Klaus had actually smiled at that.
"Nik," Rebekah calls out urgently, and Klaus appears from behind a large canvas, a dark smear on his chin and an annoyed look on his face.
"What is it now, Be-" He stops, staring at Caroline. He seemed to have an internal struggle of wanting to throw her out on her ass, or make her stand still enough so he can capture the look on her face with his oil paints. He turns to his sister instead, with a measured, "Could you give us a minute?"
Rebekah nods curtly and leaves, but not without shooting Caroline’s hands a pointed look. Caroline immediately stops picking at her nails and let her hands fall to her side rather uselessly, because the way Klaus is looking at her is making her want to shove all her fingers between her teeth and clamp down on them.
But because it’s Klaus, and because he’s still staring, Caroline forces herself to look him in the eyes. “I-”
"If this is you coming to apologize for choosing him over me," Klaus begins offhandedly, "I'm already over it." He goes back to his canvas and picks up a fresh brush, running his thumb over the fine bristles. "Already over you, in fact."
"This is hardly about us, if there ever was an us, which renders your assumption null and void," Caroline replies heatedly. "This isn't about you. It's not even about me. It’s about… it’s about Tyler-”
The canvas Klaus had been working on is suddenly off its easel and crashing against the wall behind her. He’s still standing at the same spot, calm as ever, but his voice is low and his eyes are on fire as he says, “I thought I told you never to say his name around me anymore.”
Caroline swallows. “Technically, you brought him up first.” The way he’s looking at her, she almost forgets why she’s here in the first place.
Almost.
She takes a deep (an unnecessary breath) and says: “Tyler, he-he bit Matt.” She manages to say the last part without choking on her words, a feat in itself.
Klaus seems to have calmed down considerably since his lash out. He taps the brush against his chin and steps closer to her, his feet casual and light. "And what, pray tell, do you expect me to do about that?"
"Klaus." She sends him a sharp look, her blue eyes bearing into his. "He'll die."
"Such is life, Caroline," he says, now standing in front of her. "People are born, then they live, and then they die. For someone who so insists on clinging on to humanity..." His voice trails off as he tucks a stray curl behind her ear, "you seem to have a hard time accepting that."
Caroline brushes his hand away impatiently. "Come on, Klaus. I never ask you for anything-"
"Except that one time where you asked I stay away from you," he interjects, circling her. She has no choice but to turn with him, keeping up the eye contact. "Demanded, in fact. After everything my family has offered you. After everything I've done for you. I don't take lightly to people who've disappointed me."
Her ankles twist around each other and she starts to stumble towards him, stopping just in time to reach her hands out to grab him by the collar of his shirt, knowing the implications of it. "Please, Klaus," she says, swallowing a sob. "Matt's one of the few people I have left-" her voice breaks and his eyes darken. "I can't just let him die. Just-" She stops and takes a deep breath, willing herself to look him in the eye. "I'll do anything."
There's a silence that Caroline had expected as the hybrid mulls this over in his mind, and she twists her fingers further into his shirt. "Please," she says again, her voice a whisper.
"Fine," he spits, and wrenches way from her to grab one of the empty glass jars dotting his art table. He bites into his wrist savagely and lets his blood trickle down into the jar while Caroline watches, transfixed into silence.
He hands her the jar and pulls his hands away as soon as she reaches for it- not touching, never touching-and she thanks him breathlessly before practically running out the room.
“And Caroline?”
She pauses, one foot out the door, whitened knuckles grazing the doorframe.
"I expect you to honour your part of the bargain," he says levelly to. He doesn't expect her to look back, but she does.
"I'm sure you'll make me work for it," she says, and smiles. Hard and bitter, like the rest of the words she'd said to him the minute that damned Tyler managed to break his sire bond.
"Oh, that I will." He smirks, running a slow finger across his lips. Caroline lets out a scoff and turns on her heels.
"It looks like it's going to jump out at me."
"Damon."
"No, seriously Stefan. Look at it, just hanging there, all..." Damon twists his mouth into a grimace like it's a bad taste in his mouth, "Sparkly." He's leaning forward in his seat, eyes locked onto the black sequined number that Caroline's brandishing at them, a violent look in her eyes-
(The same violent If-we-were-on-Titanic-I-would-sink-this-ship-with-my-Steve-Madden-boots look she's had ever since Damon (averting his eyes) and Stefan (shifting from foot to foot guiltily) stepped into the apartment.)
-and as if he isn't helping enough, Damon continues: "Count on Klaus to choose something so dark and seductive."
Caroline stares at the dress dubiously. "You think it looks seductive?"
Damon just throws an unhelpful no shit look, so she turns to the younger Salvatore in her rocking chair instead. "Stefan?" she asks, a hint of a plea in her voice.
Stefan shrugs. "Klaus has good taste. You'll look stunning."
"I'm not wearing it," Caroline announces abruptly, stuffing it back into her closet. "And I'm not going anywhere with him."
"Caroline," Stefan says in that tone of his, that very tone he used when Bonnie made her her Lapis Lazuli ring. "It pains me to say this, and I'm sorry. If there was another way I wouldn't even think of making you do this, but there isn't, and you have to."
"Two very legit reasons to wear a slinky, seductive dress and toast the night away with an evil thousand-year-old hybrid," Damon quips, raising two fingers. "Also, you'd look totally banging in it. I say go ahead, find out what he wants."
"Actually..." Stefan sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "It's more like what we want."
Damon and Caroline are both immediately on his case, arms crossed to display authority, and Caroline's even gotten Damon's crazy eye thing down to a T.
Stefan has to roll his eyes at that. "Who’s the bad cop?"
"Both of us," Caroline says curtly. "Sit down and spill your heart."
"Let's start from the very start," Damon follows up, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you two..." Stefan blinks at them, a little dumbfounded. "Are you two seriously quoting OneRepublic at me?"
"Arguably one of the best bands of our time. What's not to love?" Damon says (a little indignantly). "But seriously, brother. What does Klaus know that you know that we so obviously don't?"
The younger Salvatore looks from Damon to Caroline, then back again, before taking a deep breath. "Klaus knows about the doppelganger."
Lets it out.
Caroline's eyes widen, but Damon waves a hand, going back to perch against Caroline's bed. "Been there, haven't done that, totally planning on it." He raises a high-five-ready hand at Caroline. "Up top."
(Caroline ignores it. Damon looks put out.)
"How come I'm always the last one to find out?" she growls, stamping into her walk-in-closet and slamming the doors behind her. She yanks the dress on, snarling and groaning the whole way-
("Are you sure you don't have our landlord hidden in there?" Damon calls from behind the closed door. "Kinda sounds like you're having sex.")
-and storms out again, the dress billowing softly around her ankles. "I feel like a slut," she declares.
"In the best way possible." Damon bobs his head in approval. Stefan just rolls his eyes again.
"So tell me, how did you know?" Stefan turns to his brother, a frown on his face. "It took us all these years to find her, and suddenly Klaus does and you're not even worried?"
"Oh, I met her this morning," Damon says airily, already grabbing Caroline's pillow to deflect the coat hanger she's throwing at him.
"You what?"
Stefan sits up, face aglow with anger. "Damon! You didn't think to mention this earlier?"
"Relax, guys." Damon sits back up, pillow still held in place, because Caroline's missing Witching Hour for this nice little powwow, so he imagines her mood isn't in the best of places. "She's totally safe and not in Klaus' evil grasps. Name's Todd, by the way."
"Todd?" Caroline wrinkles her nose. "Really? The spawn of Elena Gilbert decides to let her daughter marry someone who'll eventually name their granddaughter Todd?"
Damon narrows his eyes. "How did you know Elena had a daughter?"
"I-" Caroline clears her throat, running a hand down her sequined detailing at her waist. "You know, just a hunch. But why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Kind of got overshadowed by the fact that Klaus totally wants to take you out on a date," Damon pouts. "Remember?"
"Which brings us back to the situation at hand." Stefan rests his hands on Caroline's windowsill. To Damon, he says: "We'll deal with you later."
("Ominous," Damon says with a round of jazz hands.)
"Guess I have to, don't I?" Caroline says stiffly, reluctantly admiring the soft ivory of the flower detailing at her neck and the flow of the dress. She turns to Damon, biting her lip. "How does she...?"
"Like Elena," Damon says shortly, casting her pillow aside. "More spunk, though-she had pink and blue streaks in her hair."
Stefan smiles softly. "Doesn't surprise me in the slightest." He surveys the two of them, his mouth set in a straight line. "So here's the deal-Klaus knows about Todd. For how long, we don't know, but he's definitely using it as leverage."
"To get to Caroline," Damon adds, walking to Caroline's vanity and picking up a lipstick tube. "Go for the red."
"I'm pretty sure he's not making any more hybrids," Stefan concedes, rubbing his chin. "And I think I know why he's in Paris right now-you know, even if Caroline hadn't fit into the equation."
"Why else would he be here?" Caroline asks with an impatient sniff, wriggling her mascara wand through her eyelashes.
He doesn't answer immediately, just gazes out her window at the glittering city against the dark of the night sky. "Rebekah's always loved Paris." Stefan sits back, his thumbs circling each other.
Caroline rolls her eyes. "So?"
"I'm surprised you don't remember," Stefan says, chuckling. "It's her birthday."
Damon blinks owlishly. "No shit."
Curled hair, red lips, dark lashes, rosy cheeks-Caroline's raring to go. She picks up her beaded clutch and gives herself a final onceover in her full-length mirror before stepping out of her room, a little hesitantly. She hasn't gone the whole nine miles to get dressed up in a long time. Usually her dates always start at the park and at the Champ de Mars and end in his bed, no lipstick and definitely no fussing with her hair necessary. Tonight, though...
She remembers a time where she'd twist her hands nervously in her lap waiting for Klaus to pick her up, to try her hardest not to look impressed at whatever night he's cooked up, to be so hell-bent on not laughing at his jokes (the rare times he actually made them), to pick at whatever meal he'd decided to cook for her at the last when she decided to be a brat and shoot down every restaurant he brings her to.
Damon's low whistle brings her back to reality, and she feels her cheeks warm up.
"Not too shabby," he commends, raising his glass. Stefan's in the stool at their island counter, nursing a beer, and even he sends her a grin.
Really, it's like they're forgetting that they're making her walk the plank in a designer dress into the treacherous hybrid-infested waters below or something.
"Speaking of shabby." Caroline eyes the both of them in disdain. "Why aren't you two dressed yet?"
"I wasn't aware a night of take out and The Notebook had a dress code," Damon says, but his smartass comment dies halfway at the glint in Caroline's eyes. "Oh no-stop right there, Blondie."
Right on cue, her cell phone rings. She roots through her clutch and rolls her eyes at the private number flashing across the screen as she picks it up with an exasperated grunt. "Seriously?"
"Where are you?" comes the tinny sound of Rebekah's screech. "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago. You know my brother doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"I realize that," Caroline replied sweetly, "but it seems Stefan's having a little trouble finding his tie." As she's saying it, she clomps over to where Stefan is and drags him by his collar to his room, practically kicking him inside.
"Suit," she mouths, channeling Bonnie Bennett in her glare. She turns to Damon, who's fidgeting, the beginnings of worry dawning on his face.
"No way, Blondie," he hisses furiously as Caroline waves several paisley ties in his face. "I am not-"
"Tie?" Rebekah asks. "Stefan? Caroline, what are you talki-"
"Klaus isn't the only one who can call the shots," Caroline snaps, throwing a lamp at Damon's back as he tries to escape the apartment. It crashes against their TV, and the older vampire winces. "I want Stefan and Damon with me, or I don't show up at all."
Rebekah had let out an angry gust of wind, from the sound of it. "Fine, just be at Ledoyen in ten minu-"
"Also," Caroline raises her voice, but the phone flies out of her hand as she scrambles to catch the Jar before it crashes against the wall. She whips her head around and settles it safely back to the floor. "The Jar is off limits!" she screeches, vampiring her way to where Damon is to scratch his eyes out.
Stefan strolls out of his bedroom, fully dressed, casting the duelling duo a weary glance as he picks up the discarded phone. "Sorry, Rebekah," he says, hitting loudspeaker. "Caroline and Damon are... preoccupied at the moment."
(Meaning: Caroline's slamming a bag of frozen peas into his face while he tries to throw every single tie he owns out the window.)
There's a pregnant pause on the other line. "Rebekah?" Stefan prompts.
"Stefan?" Rebekah finally breathes. "I didn't know you were com-I'm not sure if Klaus..."
Stefan watches with thinly veiled amusement as Caroline drags Stefan across the room and into the shoves his face into the sink for an aggressive washing down (as he'd smeared Nutella all over his face as a desperate, last resort). "I'm sure Klaus will find it in himself to make an exception."
"Fine." Rebekah clears her throat. "As I was saying, be here in ten minutes."
"I'm in the mood for Italian," Caroline calls out childishly from across the room, tugging off Damon's rumpled shirt and trying to force him into a fresh mauve one.
Rebekah sounds disappointed. "But I've already reserved a table, and it's been so long since I've had Jambon Blan-"
"Pity," Caroline says shortly, tugging one of Stefan's ties around Damon's neck. Damon's choking. Stefan's sighing.
"Very well," Rebekah snaps. "I'll let you deal with the reservations then. If we don't see your worthless heads within the hour, I won't be responsible for whatever massacre that's bound to headline the papers tomorrow."
The line goes dead.
Damon slumps down, his face in his hands. "Caroline, Caroline, Caroline," he moans. "What torture have you set me up against?"
Truth be told, she has no idea.
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circa 2012
It's 9:21pm and she's been in the woods for hours, and all she can see is pitch blackness around her. Caroline hugs her jacket closer, wishing her skin would bite at the cold, hoping for the wind to graze her cheeks-anything, really. The shadowy trees around her are enveloping her in this strange stillness that seems almost tangible: pressing down on her chest and rooting her feet to the pine-covered ground.
She walks on for a while, letting her fingers linger on the rough bark of the trees, careful not to make a sound as her feet picks through the dried leaves and twisted roots. "Tyler..." she almost calls out, but remembers Alaric’s specific instructions not to.
"Don't draw any attention to yourself. But if you do happen to run into him," Alaric had warned, looking haggard, “don’t give him any reason to feel threatened. And don’t let him run off.”
Damon hands Alaric a glass tumbler filled with dark amber liquid-Scotch, Caroline guesses. “You look like you need it,” is all he says.
Caroline can see that Damon’s trying hard not to glance at the staircase every so often (but does, anyway). Matt's still sleeping upstairs, has been sleeping for the past three days.
Elena hasn't left his side since.
"Why would he?" Caroline asks, feeling her nails dig into her skin. "It was-it was an accident, you know how he gets..."
Damon has her up against the wall in the blink of an eye. "I'm not sure how long you're going to keep up this little charade, Blondie," he snarls. "He bit Matt, almost threw Jeremy across the field at football practice last week." He shakes her shoulders, eyes widening in the way only Damon's can. "And I come home to find everything Stefan gone, his room completely trashed, smelling like wet dog. So go ahead. Live in your little Tyler's Completely Flaw-free and Innocent bubble. Just know that Matt's blood?" He steps back and lets her slump down against the wall. "Completely on your hands."
Alaric puts his hand on Damon’s shoulder. “Come on, Damon.” But even that’s weak at best.
The glare-off between Damon and Caroline intensifies, the air around them heavy with with their hateful gazes, and Caroline thinks it’s never going to end until Jeremy pokes his head inside the room.
“So Klaus and Rebekah are off looking for Stefa…” Jeremy trails off, glancing at Damon, to Caroline, to Alaric standing kind of helplessly behind them, then back to Damon again. Must be Thursday, the roll of his eyes seems to say. “Bonnie's traced the woods-she says she can sense a couple of supernatural beings in there."
Alaric grabs his bag-filled with scary looking hunting equipment-and heads for the door. “Let’s get going.”
Jeremy’s hand is wrapped loosely around a wooden stake, which Caroline can't help but stare at. "I want to help."
Damon just nods. "Got your ring?"
Jeremy lifts his hand, and the ring glints under the kitchen light. "Don't I always?"
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Something-a twig? A branch? An undead being?-snaps behind her, and she whips her head around, fists ready, fangs bared-
"Woah!" Jeremy gasps, holding up his hands. He lets out a shaky laugh. His flashlight lay abandoned at his feet. "Easy, Care. It's only me."
Caroline swallows back the scream that had crept its way up her throat. "Y-yeah. Sorry, you startled me."
"Even with your super vampire senses?" he chides, and Caroline giggles weakly at that. Jeremy clears his throat. "Anyway-I thought I heard something down that tree yonder." He gestures at the dark space between the trees with his flashlight.
Caroline's lips tilt into a teasing smile. "Down that tree yonder? Really, Jeremy?"
"Whatever," Jeremy says, rubbing the back of his head. "I've been hanging around Finn too much-learning the tools of trade."
"Who knew werewolf hunting would come in handy to you, huh?" Caroline mutters bitterly under her breath.
Jeremy steps in her way firmly, his flashlight glaring under his chin. Caroline thinks he looks medieval and creepy and almost looks away, but Jeremy's got his gaze locked onto hers. "Tyler's one of my best friends, and him harpooning me across the football field? I let that go." He steps closer, and says (almost gently), "But even Elena drew the line at biting Matt. And now Stefan's gone. Stefan's older than Tyler. Stronger than Tyler. What does that mean?"
Caroline darts her eyes away and bites down on her lower lip and argues, "Tyler's not the only hybrid in town."
"The other hybrids in town know not to mess with the Salvatores, remember?" Jeremy reaches for Caroline's hand and guides her through the trees, ducking under branches that Caroline's surprised he can see in the dark. "They always come collecting."
"I just don't know what's wrong with him," Caroline says softly, eyes following the beam of the flashlight. "He hasn't been the same since-"
"Shh," Jeremy whispers urgently, hand wrapped around her mouth. They here dried leaves crackling around them and Caroline shoots a hand out to shut off the flashlight. In the faint moonlight, she sees Jeremy raise a finger to his lips and point to the undergrowth three feet away. She nods, and they quickly prowl to their one chance of concealment.
Jeremy's just ducking behind the bushes when Stefan's suddenly crashing through the thicket, panting though he needs no air, blood ripping through his clothes and even more blood smeared across his face, dark against the alabaster of his skin.
Caroline doesn't blink, doesn’t think.
"Stefan!" she's out of the undergrowth in a flash, gripping Stefan's shoulder as he sways on his feet. Jeremy's behind her, tugging her urgently, Come on, Care-like Alaric said: find Stefan, get the hell out of the woods, come on, gotta text Damon-
"He's here," Stefan chokes out, gripping the neck of Caroline's jacket. "Tyler's just behind-run."
Caroline barely has time to let out a strangled cry of, "What?" when there's a great creaking sound and a tree crashes to the ground not five feet away from them, and suddenly Tyler's everywhere: crouched on the upended tree-flinging Jeremy into the bushes-twisting Stefan's neck with a sickening crunch-knocking Caroline to the ground so hard she sees stars when she blinks.
"Tyler," she cries, struggling to get up, but he's on her, pinning her shoulders to the ground with his hands. His breathing harsh and quick, his eyes dark and beady and feral, his lips twisted in a way she's only seen in those movies her father never lets her watch-
"Caroline," Tyler snarls, his face contorting painfully as his fangs disappear, only to pop out again. "You gotta-you gotta get out-go."
"Get off of her!"
"Jer-!"
By sheer force of willpower, Jeremy's tackled Tyler off of Caroline, teeth bared and chest heaving. Caroline shuffles away frantically-God, no more, Tyler, please-swats something hot and uncomfortable off her face, before she realizes it's her own tears-please, no more, I don't want to see this, no, it's not real, no, no, no-
"Care, run!" Jeremy yells as he struggles with Tyler, and Caroline almost laughs-hysterical or not, she's not sure-because she's the vampire, she's the stronger one here, she's supposed to be telling Jeremy to run. She blinks the last of the stars away and stumbles to her feet, feels that swooping sensation in her stomach when she sees Tyler twist Jeremy's hand behind his back-Jeremy lets out a cry-
God, no more, Tyler, please. "Tyler," she rasps, tearing her nails at the back of his shirt. "Stop it-no more, come on, this isn't you-"
Jeremy makes the mistake of kicking Tyler in the chest and the hybrid stills, the ticking sound of the woods and the shuffling of their feet halting along with him. Slowly - dazedly, even - Tyler lets go of Jeremy (who backs away and winces when his arm hits the tree behind him) and raises his hand to his chest, where it hovers for a few seconds.
"That hurt," he says slowly, like it's a revelation.
"Tyler?" Caroline whispers.
"Tyler," Jeremy warns. "Dude, back off." His right arm, the one that isn't broken, reaches for the stake in his back pocket. Grips it. Grips it tight. "Don't make me do this to you."
Tyler doesn't seem to hear him. He takes a step closer, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "That hurt," he says again.
"Tyler," Caroline says again. This time it's not a whisper-it's a plead. "Please, no-I don't want to see-come on, we can fix thi-we can fix you-"
Tyler takes another step forward.
"Please, no more, it's not you-" Caroline's voice is a shrill one as her eyes widen and her hands wrench uselessly at his arms. "Tyler, I love you. Do you hear me? I love y-please, come on, let's go, I love you-"
Jeremy looks like he wants to back away, but there's nowhere to go-his back is flat against the tree and Tyler's staring him in the eye. Tyler raises his hand and the woods come alive again as Jeremy frantically whips his head to lock gazes with Caroline, and says loudly, urgently: "Caroline, tell Elena I-"
Tyler plunges his hand deep into Jeremy's chest.
A scream, loud and shrill and bloody tears her throat apart, a scream so deafening and bouncing off the sounds of the forest, isn't enough to drown out the sound Tyler makes when he wrenches his grip from Jeremy's chest, his fist horrible and dripping and oozing red.
Jeremy drops to his knees, that panicked, wide-eyed look still on his face, and Caroline realizes with dawning horror that his ring is nowhere to be seen.
"She's not coming," Rebekah mutters through stiff lips. She takes a deep gulp of her white wine, ignoring the frown her brother's sending her. "I told you so."
"She'll be here," he snaps, resting an impatient hand on the table, watching the tick of the Rolex glinting on his hand. He almost reaches up to loosen his tie-but keeps his hand on the table under Rebekah's watchful gaze. "Stefan will make sure of it."
"It's my birthday." She bemoans the miserable time she's having, whingeing about how she had wanted to go dancing, but no, you insisted... Pressing her pink lips together, she adds sullenly: "I wanted Jambon Blanc."
"And you'll get it," he hisses through his teeth, turning his head to glare at her. "Just-just wait ten more minutes."
"No need," says a voice from his left, dull and flat. "I'm here."
He turns slowly, his eyes going straight to her face. He lets a slow smile spread on his lips as he takes her in-the curl of her hair, the blue of her eyes, the pout to her lips. "Caroline."
"Klaus," is all she says.
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tbc
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