tape me up, then break me up (1/1)
title: tape me up, then break me up
fandom: the vampire diaries
pairing: caroline/damon (and a very tiny mention of caroline/matt)
summary: She never really knows if she hates Damon or if she loves him. The two things often get confused in her mind. Set in the first half of season one.
rating: T
disclaimer: I don't own anything.
a/n: written for the waxing poetic multi-fandom comment ficathon, for this prompt: dear so-and-so, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party. dear so-and-so, I’m sorry i came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing. you want a better story. who wouldn’t
When Stefan rejects her at the bonfire (for Elena, of course), she feels it chip away at her. The same way it chipped away at her when she was fourteen and Matt finally started talking to her like she was an actual person, only to ask her if she thought Elena would say yes if he asked her to the dance. The same way it chipped at her when Jeff Davis dumped her for Madison Claire a week after she finally gave him what he wanted. The same way it did when Bonnie and Elena partnered up in Biology class without even looking at her.
Sometimes she wondered how there was anything left of her. After all those chips, there really shouldn’t be.
Damon does more damage than all of those before him (the boys, her parents, Elena). He breaks her, sends her crashing to the floor and shattering completely. And Caroline’s left trying to put herself back together on her own.
She never really knows if she hates Damon or if she loves him. The two things often get confused in her mind. (She loves Elena, but she hates the way the sun catches her hair and the way when she laughs everyone else does too. She loves her father but she hates that she wasn’t enough to keep him there.)
Caroline loves the way Damon looks on her arm, the way she looks standing next to him. She loves how she can brag that he picked her, if only for a little while, and the way he keeps coming back to her, like maybe, just maybe, he can’t stay away. She remembers him being sweet, placing gentle kisses on her neck, talking to her about himself, like she was important, like she would understand. She remembers him calling her ‘fucking hot’ when they were together. (No one had ever said that to her before, not the way he did, like it was the truth and not just something you say.) She remembers him knowing what she wanted before she even did, as though he had been the one to think of it.
She thinks that no one knows her quite like Damon does and she loves him for that, because no one’s taken the time to try to before.
But she also remembers pain, horrible pain, but she can’t remember how it’s connected to Damon (and it gets fuzzier and fuzzier the more she tries to figure it out), but she knows it is. She remembers harsh words, horrible words that replay in her mind over and over as she’s trying to fall asleep at night, when she’s in the back of her history class, when her mother’s lecturing her on her behavior. She remembers him calling her useless and she hates him for that. She remembers him picking out her clothes, like he had the right, and hates him for that as well. (She can make her own decisions, thank you very much.) She remembers the way her mind would freeze in his presence, how she would go from confident to insecure in the matter of seconds, and she hates that he can do that to her. She hates him.
(Except she doesn’t. Not really. She doesn’t think he’ll let her.)
She tries to talk to Elena about it, and she’s all sympathetic faces and assurances that this is all for the better, that being without Damon is for the better. But then Stefan shows up beside her, more handsome than should be allowed, and she has the urge to run to Damon because at least he had picked her. At least someone had.
Bonnie is better at comforting her. She doesn’t sugar coat it, she calls Damon an ass, and it’s easier to hate him in her presence. Bonnie hates him enough for the both of them, so it’s easy to jump on board.
It’s the hardest for her when he is there. He’s too beautiful and too cruel and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to react to him. (Run away her mind screams at her. Run to him her mind screams at her.) One minute he’s rolling his eyes, chipping away at her, and the next moment he’s staring into her eyes and whispering sweet things into her ear, and it feels like he’s trying to put her back together. Like he’s trying to glue back that piece of china he just broke off.
Sometimes she sees him at the Grill and she avoids him, watches his back but doesn’t meet his eyes. Sometimes he’ll slide into the booth across from her, sometimes he’ll slide in right next to her, his hand resting on her thigh. Sometimes they’ll talk, sometimes for hours, but when it’s over she doesn’t quite remember what he said. She tries to blame it on the alcohol, but she can’t remember if he ever bought her that drink he said he would. Sometimes it ends with them leaving the restaurant together, him following her home, leading her to her own bed. Sometimes he takes her to his own house, scanning for Stefan’s presence (for Elena’s too she thinks) and she can never tell if he’s disappointed or relieved when he’s not at home. He takes her up to his bedroom and strips her bare (of her clothes, of all her defenses), touches her like she matters, like she’s important to him too, and it’s not just all in her head.
She thinks those meetings are the ones that hurt the most in the end, that they’re the ones that send her shattering to the floor. Because it is all in her head and she can easily be replaced. (He’s told her this. Several times.)
She gets caught up in all of it one night, lets herself believes the lies and buys into the stories she has created in her own head (he loves her, he has to love her, he always comes back to her, she’s important to him, she is, she has to be). He’s hovering above her, his hands caressing her sides and his lips on her neck, and it all just seems perfect. And she’s never had perfect before, not really.
“I love you.” She whispers, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop herself.
He glances down at her, but it isn’t love she sees in his eyes, it’s cold and dark and his gaze cuts into her like glass, sends her tumbling back to the ground again.
“Good.” He tells her.
She lets out a horrible, terrified scream as he tears into her neck.
The next day she wears her favorite scarf to school and Stefan stares at it for far too long. He asks to see it and Caroline doesn’t understand, but she takes it off anyways. She hands it to him but his eyes aren’t on the silk scarf in his hand, they’re on her neck. He questions whether she had seen Damon the day before and she tells him no, but she can’t meet his eyes. (She’s never won at poker in her life.) When she finally does glance up at him, his eyes are worried, he looks at her like he knows her far better than he should.
She quickly excuses herself, goes to the bathroom and stares at herself in the mirror. She runs her hands along her unblemished neck and wonders what it was that gave her away.
Elena arrives at school with a necklace in her hand, tells her that she saw it and thought of her, and Caroline promises to never to take it off. (Elena has never given her something like this before, never given her anything when it wasn’t a holiday and mandatory.) She tries not to feel too disappointed when she sees Bonnie with her own necklace later that day.
Damon notices the necklace when he sidles up to her at the Grill, his eyes narrowing in on it as he asks who gave it to her. She lies and tells him Matt (she likes to think that it won’t be too long before they get to the gift giving stage. Elena and Stefan had barely been dating before she had gotten a necklace of her own.) but he can tell and it isn’t long before he gets the truth.
He storms away from her and she isn’t sure if she is disappointed or relieved. He hadn’t stayed long enough to hurt her, to chip away at her again, not really. But he hadn’t stayed long enough to try to fix it either.
She wraps her fingers around the necklace that Elena gave her, and finds herself wishing that it had been Damon himself that had given it to her. Hates herself for wishing that. Hates herself for not hating him.
Damon had broken Caroline worse than anyone else in her life, had shattered her into so many pieces she had lost count. But sometimes it felt like he was trying to help her put herself back together, like he was apologizing.
That was more than anyone else had done.
fandom: the vampire diaries
pairing: caroline/damon (and a very tiny mention of caroline/matt)
summary: She never really knows if she hates Damon or if she loves him. The two things often get confused in her mind. Set in the first half of season one.
rating: T
disclaimer: I don't own anything.
a/n: written for the waxing poetic multi-fandom comment ficathon, for this prompt: dear so-and-so, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party. dear so-and-so, I’m sorry i came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing. you want a better story. who wouldn’t
When Stefan rejects her at the bonfire (for Elena, of course), she feels it chip away at her. The same way it chipped away at her when she was fourteen and Matt finally started talking to her like she was an actual person, only to ask her if she thought Elena would say yes if he asked her to the dance. The same way it chipped at her when Jeff Davis dumped her for Madison Claire a week after she finally gave him what he wanted. The same way it did when Bonnie and Elena partnered up in Biology class without even looking at her.
Sometimes she wondered how there was anything left of her. After all those chips, there really shouldn’t be.
Damon does more damage than all of those before him (the boys, her parents, Elena). He breaks her, sends her crashing to the floor and shattering completely. And Caroline’s left trying to put herself back together on her own.
She never really knows if she hates Damon or if she loves him. The two things often get confused in her mind. (She loves Elena, but she hates the way the sun catches her hair and the way when she laughs everyone else does too. She loves her father but she hates that she wasn’t enough to keep him there.)
Caroline loves the way Damon looks on her arm, the way she looks standing next to him. She loves how she can brag that he picked her, if only for a little while, and the way he keeps coming back to her, like maybe, just maybe, he can’t stay away. She remembers him being sweet, placing gentle kisses on her neck, talking to her about himself, like she was important, like she would understand. She remembers him calling her ‘fucking hot’ when they were together. (No one had ever said that to her before, not the way he did, like it was the truth and not just something you say.) She remembers him knowing what she wanted before she even did, as though he had been the one to think of it.
She thinks that no one knows her quite like Damon does and she loves him for that, because no one’s taken the time to try to before.
But she also remembers pain, horrible pain, but she can’t remember how it’s connected to Damon (and it gets fuzzier and fuzzier the more she tries to figure it out), but she knows it is. She remembers harsh words, horrible words that replay in her mind over and over as she’s trying to fall asleep at night, when she’s in the back of her history class, when her mother’s lecturing her on her behavior. She remembers him calling her useless and she hates him for that. She remembers him picking out her clothes, like he had the right, and hates him for that as well. (She can make her own decisions, thank you very much.) She remembers the way her mind would freeze in his presence, how she would go from confident to insecure in the matter of seconds, and she hates that he can do that to her. She hates him.
(Except she doesn’t. Not really. She doesn’t think he’ll let her.)
She tries to talk to Elena about it, and she’s all sympathetic faces and assurances that this is all for the better, that being without Damon is for the better. But then Stefan shows up beside her, more handsome than should be allowed, and she has the urge to run to Damon because at least he had picked her. At least someone had.
Bonnie is better at comforting her. She doesn’t sugar coat it, she calls Damon an ass, and it’s easier to hate him in her presence. Bonnie hates him enough for the both of them, so it’s easy to jump on board.
It’s the hardest for her when he is there. He’s too beautiful and too cruel and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to react to him. (Run away her mind screams at her. Run to him her mind screams at her.) One minute he’s rolling his eyes, chipping away at her, and the next moment he’s staring into her eyes and whispering sweet things into her ear, and it feels like he’s trying to put her back together. Like he’s trying to glue back that piece of china he just broke off.
Sometimes she sees him at the Grill and she avoids him, watches his back but doesn’t meet his eyes. Sometimes he’ll slide into the booth across from her, sometimes he’ll slide in right next to her, his hand resting on her thigh. Sometimes they’ll talk, sometimes for hours, but when it’s over she doesn’t quite remember what he said. She tries to blame it on the alcohol, but she can’t remember if he ever bought her that drink he said he would. Sometimes it ends with them leaving the restaurant together, him following her home, leading her to her own bed. Sometimes he takes her to his own house, scanning for Stefan’s presence (for Elena’s too she thinks) and she can never tell if he’s disappointed or relieved when he’s not at home. He takes her up to his bedroom and strips her bare (of her clothes, of all her defenses), touches her like she matters, like she’s important to him too, and it’s not just all in her head.
She thinks those meetings are the ones that hurt the most in the end, that they’re the ones that send her shattering to the floor. Because it is all in her head and she can easily be replaced. (He’s told her this. Several times.)
She gets caught up in all of it one night, lets herself believes the lies and buys into the stories she has created in her own head (he loves her, he has to love her, he always comes back to her, she’s important to him, she is, she has to be). He’s hovering above her, his hands caressing her sides and his lips on her neck, and it all just seems perfect. And she’s never had perfect before, not really.
“I love you.” She whispers, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop herself.
He glances down at her, but it isn’t love she sees in his eyes, it’s cold and dark and his gaze cuts into her like glass, sends her tumbling back to the ground again.
“Good.” He tells her.
She lets out a horrible, terrified scream as he tears into her neck.
The next day she wears her favorite scarf to school and Stefan stares at it for far too long. He asks to see it and Caroline doesn’t understand, but she takes it off anyways. She hands it to him but his eyes aren’t on the silk scarf in his hand, they’re on her neck. He questions whether she had seen Damon the day before and she tells him no, but she can’t meet his eyes. (She’s never won at poker in her life.) When she finally does glance up at him, his eyes are worried, he looks at her like he knows her far better than he should.
She quickly excuses herself, goes to the bathroom and stares at herself in the mirror. She runs her hands along her unblemished neck and wonders what it was that gave her away.
Elena arrives at school with a necklace in her hand, tells her that she saw it and thought of her, and Caroline promises to never to take it off. (Elena has never given her something like this before, never given her anything when it wasn’t a holiday and mandatory.) She tries not to feel too disappointed when she sees Bonnie with her own necklace later that day.
Damon notices the necklace when he sidles up to her at the Grill, his eyes narrowing in on it as he asks who gave it to her. She lies and tells him Matt (she likes to think that it won’t be too long before they get to the gift giving stage. Elena and Stefan had barely been dating before she had gotten a necklace of her own.) but he can tell and it isn’t long before he gets the truth.
He storms away from her and she isn’t sure if she is disappointed or relieved. He hadn’t stayed long enough to hurt her, to chip away at her again, not really. But he hadn’t stayed long enough to try to fix it either.
She wraps her fingers around the necklace that Elena gave her, and finds herself wishing that it had been Damon himself that had given it to her. Hates herself for wishing that. Hates herself for not hating him.
Damon had broken Caroline worse than anyone else in her life, had shattered her into so many pieces she had lost count. But sometimes it felt like he was trying to help her put herself back together, like he was apologizing.
That was more than anyone else had done.