Title: (We Don't) Need to be Fixed (1/?)
Cast: Katherine/Caroline, (Caroline/Elena UST), Stefan, Elena, Bonnie, Matt
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (CW)
Summary: Caroline as seen through the lens of her experiences with others and their direct impact on her as a person. Elena is the one constant. (Center of the universe, right?)
Notes: Just over 3,000 words for now. Blood, sex, emotional abuse. Or in short: Katherine.
AO3 link.
KATHERINE
You're not supposed to wonder what your best friend's blood tastes like, even if it's probably amazing and you know other people who have tasted it already and from what you can tell they've enjoyed it a lot. Even then, it's just rude.
So Caroline doesn't think about how Elena probably tastes fantastic, or how her body is just perfectly compact for holding her close, pinning her tight with strong hands and an even stronger mouth. Jaw like a trap sprung shut, and Elena could spring her trigger any day.
Which -
Okay, there's definitely something about becoming a vampire that makes you just that little bit more of a cheeseball -- which explains so much about Damon, actually. Maybe it comes from knowing that you'll never hear "no" again, not if you don't want to. Every door open, everything is allowed. No more rules.
But only if you let yourself.
Which Caroline doesn't. Can't.
*
Every time you notice her pulse flutter at that pretty little curve in her throat, take another drink. Take it slow.
Because Elena probably does taste fantastic, and it's the kind of thing Caroline has wondered about since she was maybe fourteen. (Not that she didn't enjoy the boys she was kissing by then, sure, but when the three of them would have slumber parties and she'd end up caught between the jut of Elena's hip and the press of Bonnie's breasts at her back, Caroline had to wonder. Everybody wonders, right?)
See Elena put on that cherry-flavored lip gloss and watch Matt kiss it off. Think about how much of what he tastes is processed cherry, fake, and how much would just be her. Real.
Elena.
*
Would her mouth taste differently filled with blood?
Obviously, it would. Duh.
But Caroline wonders sometimes which taste she would like more.
*
Katherine sits on Caroline's bed and smooths the wrinkles out with both hands. She is so like Elena, except in the millions of ways she isn't. Where Elena is friendly but calm (quiet and contained), Katherine's energy pulses out into the room like blood pumping from an open wound. It stirs something in Caroline's chest, like fingers pulling at the end of a rope.
It creeps over Caroline, like Katherine's fingers tracing up from the crook of her elbow.
If her heart could still beat at all, it would probably be pounding.
*
She doesn't smell anything like Elena, though. That much is wrong. (A lot if this is wrong.) She is forceful where Elena is soft, and she takes while all Elena seems to know how to do is give. Everything has always been handed to Elena Gilbert, sure. People trip over themselves to give her what she wants, but not because she demands it. If anything, she tries to dodge the favors, always giving way for the sake of her friends.
It almost pisses Caroline off, actually, the ways that her best friend is so selfless that it makes Caroline herself seem even weaker. Far too human.
Or it did.
But she's never felt as weak as she does now, with Katherine's mouth on her throat and Katherine's fingers in her hair. Some part of Caroline wishes she would just bite down, so they could both smell that sharp hint of copper in the air.
The animals inside each of them call out for it, whining and thrusting, pushing their darkness closer together until it almost makes a spark. Something to see by.
"Oh, it's so sweet how much you want this," Katherine purrs with one fist in Caroline's hair and the other keeping her hands pinned to the bed. "Do you have any idea what you look like?" Her smile is sharp and hungry, but with the way Caroline's pupils won't stop dilating, distorting, if she tilts her head a little she can almost see Elena. Just almost. "You look good enough to eat." Katherine's fangs are out now, straining forward.
It touches something deep inside of Caroline. It touches and then it strokes, making her groan until her hips rise slightly off the bed.
This is so wrong. It's all so wrong, and Stefan tried to warn her. He said emotions get heightened, and apparently that includes the pervy ones like lusting after one of your best friends who's probably never even seen a porno with two chicks, let alone thought about doing it herself. (Not that Caroline has seen very much either, but she's thought about plenty.) Like there's going for what you want and feeling things, sure, and then there's being a creep.
It's wrong, but everything about Katherine feels wrong. Maybe that's what makes it so easy to fall into. She's like a human (well, vampire) pothole.
"Maybe I turned you too fast." Katherine presses her fangs against the sharp incline of Caroline's throat without biting down. (Why won't she bite down?) When she whispers, they rake against skin. "I would love to hear your scared little rabbit heartbeat right now."
"I'm not scared," Caroline croaks, and immediately regrets it. Said out loud, the lie is way too obvious. She cringes her eyes shut.
"Don't worry, Care," Katherine coos, and on her tongue the pet name becomes almost vulgar. Lewd like the course of her hand, sliding down the angle of Caroline's hips and settling past parted thighs. "Everyone's nervous the first time."
*
She hates Katherine and loves Matt, but the animal inside her doesn't seem to know the difference. It's all blood, it's all meat. Even her.
And when her body's meat vibrates at a high enough frequency, no matter what the cause, she can feel the hunger pressing up inside of her. The blood wants to rush in. It wants to consume.
Let the beast slip from its cage. Let it hunt, let it howl.
Stefan's right, it's so easy to give yourself over to it. When he says it, he makes it sound like a curse. His burden.
But sometimes -- Caroline wouldn't admit this, could never say it aloud and hardly ever thinks it, but sometimes, when Katherine's inside her, thrusting and redoubling like she's trying to pull Caroline apart, and the blood rush fills her head -- those times, it's pretty good. It's almost great.
*
The night she tastes Matt's blood is the greatest moment of Caroline's life. It is. Really.
It's like discovering sex through soft and tentative experimental touches, and then just days later being fucked. Fucked until you can't stand. Until you can barely remember to breathe. It's like drowning and gasping for air at the same time -- a revelation.
It's every moment of doubt and shame washed away. Burning through the sky like a god damn comet, and feeling his own flame start to dim under your tongue. It's being a god.
No shame, no guilt. Nothing but the blood.
And then the real world comes crashing in like a flood. That part…
That part is like sinking. Swallowing cold, sharp rocks until you reach the bottom. Never come up again for air.
That was the worst moment of Caroline's life, feeling the creature she keeps inside her skin clawing to come back out. Wanting her own throat in its jaws. To squeeze and squeeze until all that once was Caroline is gone completely.
Her story written in blood upon the walls.
*
Caroline still wants to kiss Elena. To an almost distracting degree, she wants to press Elena flush against a wall and explore the taste of her mouth. (And then a vein. She'd really like to do some very in-depth investigation of a vein. Any one will do, she's not picky. She's not greedy, okay. She just wants a taste.)
Caroline has wanted to taste Elena since they were both fourteen.
She knows that now. Another thing about becoming immortal is how it adds perspective to some things. You tear out one guy's throat and you feel a whole lot less guilty about basic human things like lust.
Except when the person you're lusting after is also your best friend. Because no matter how much they may fight -- how many times Caroline has thought I hate you and meant it -- Elena is still the most important person in Caroline's life since her dad left. That is, not counting Bonnie, which Caroline almost can't anymore. Not since she --
Well.
You just really want to keep at least that one person's heart beating.
*
That first time she saw Katherine, if she'd already been the person (monster) that she is now, Caroline might have smelled the difference. She might have sensed it tingling inches above her skin.
If she'd been more alert, she might have suspected something, even as a human. But she was only half-awake.
And then all she knew was the terror. Her blood churned and she tried to struggle, to fight, but Katherine is stronger. She will always be stronger.
Caroline knows now that even that -- resisting the pulsing of Caroline's fear, turning away from the pounding of her heart -- was a sign of Katherine's strength. That was power Caroline thinks she might never know for herself.
She didn't realize it then.
All she knew was Elena, her best friend, was going to kill her. Was already killing her. Crushing the air from her lungs. (Even though it made no sense, wasn't possible. Elena isn't this strong -- has always been weak, physically weak, in a way that gave Caroline satisfaction, knowing that at least in this one thing she would always be superior.) But the thoughts were rushing from her head, escaping with the air, until all that was left were tiny pinpoints of light at the edge of her vision. Faint and fading fast.
And at the back of her mind, small but screaming, a voice saying over and over: She knows.
*
Katherine doesn't ask for a lot.
She takes Caroline's secrets and her pride. She takes her body (even after she's taken its life), and also her love. Rips it out by its roots. She threatens the lives of Matt and Elena. Of Bonnie, her mom -- everyone. "It'd be so easy," she says, and laughs. "You know exactly how easy."
When she kisses Caroline (hard), she tastes like loneliness. Her kisses are probing, deep and aching, but hollow -- without real feeling. Like her.
Katherine doesn't take much. Caroline is used to giving. She's used to the empty feeling that comes after the two of them fuck and Katherine leaves possessive bite marks on her thigh.
She's worn them before, though it feels like a lifetime ago now. (Though she remembers clearly now, doesn't she? Even when she wishes that she didn't. It's like an especially vivid dream. Or nightmare.)
Katherine doesn't ask a lot. She just takes.
She takes everything.
*
She wonders sometimes if Katherine had someone like her: a life that could be snuffed out as a lesson. A punishment for someone else's crime.
Or was that her? Is she the lesson?
Maybe the ones who are punished (kept in their place) are never the ones to survive.
Maybe it's better to be the lesson than to be left all alone.
*
(But Elena isn't alone. She has Matt and Damon. Stefan, who is perfect and eternally beautiful and hopelessly in love.
She has Bonnie -- who won't even look at Caroline without flinching away -- Jenna, her brother (stupid Jeremy), and for some reason even Mr. Saltzman is all on board with Team Elena now.
And it's not as if Caroline isn't too. She's a part of the team, she is, but if she was the lesson -- the punishment, or whatever -- then why is she the one with so many things gone missing?)
*
When Damon would take her (would fuck her), he always left holes in Caroline's head after. Black spots in her memory that would rise up and blind her whenever she stared too long in the mirror at a bruise or bite.
Thin-stretched cotton wrapped around her brain, making her fuzzy and vague. An abstract person.
Sometimes she wishes she could forget it all again.
Some days she wants to tear his throat out with her hands and slowly lick each finger clean.
*
The hunger doesn't grow quieter. The bourbon helps (whiskey and vodka, too), but all of Stefan's promises turn out to really be something closer to a wish.
"When does it get better?" she finally asks one day, after a three course meal of baby bunnies.
Stefan doesn't like to talk while he's eating, even when it's just wildlife. Caroline can appreciate that, since they are really cute and fuzzy, so she waits until they're back to the car.
Even so, she catches him looking for his reflection in the window -- as if he's afraid he might still see the hunger lurking. "… with time." He opens his car door and climbs in.
But Caroline speeds around to his side, catching hold of the door before he can close it. "Best guess."
"Caroline--"
Something inside of her shudders, but on the outside she is perfectly calm. She's even smiling. "Yeah, I figured." She shoves the door shut with more strength than she means to, and the whole car shakes.
*
The worst is that her shiver is only half-regret.
Another part of her is excited. Caroline and her hunger will have so much time to get to know each other.
*
There's a small, persistent part of her that whispers in the night, saying that Elena must take the vervain off sometime, right?
There must be a time (even briefly) when she is just Elena again.
And what harm could there be if Elena could forget? Caroline could taste and touch, remove the craving completely, and erase it all after. What harm is it really?
If Elena can't remember (if she doesn't know), how different is it from a fantasy? A really accurate, detailed, and interactive fantasy, sure, but harmless fantasy. Like role-play.
It's not as if she would hurt Elena. There's no part of Caroline that would ever -- could ever, even when angry, even when furious, even when she smells so good it makes the animal inside wonder about the taste of her intestine -- and it's ridiculous really. All she wants is a taste (a kiss, a fuck), and anyway Caroline is absolutely fantastic in bed.
It would be almost like a gift.
An anonymous gift that the recipient never actually remembers receiving -- but it's the thought that counts, right? So really what's the harm.
Why not try?
But this is all starting to sound a little too much like Damon logic, which is how Caroline knows for certain that it's a terrible idea.
*
The next time she is with Katherine, it's Caroline who initiates the kiss, forceful and arching.
Katherine laughs, a quiet and cruel sound that Elena would never make, and Caroline bites down until the laughter stops.
Rolling together, the sounds turn into moans.
*
"Am I going to be like this forever?" she asks Katherine quietly, pulling her shirt back on.
She means the aching and the need. The fear and the want. The shame that won't keep quiet. Everything that once was reasonably small and under control that swelled up until it's almost overwhelming.
Katherine smiles thinly, dried blood smeared across her chin. "I doubt you'll last that long."
*
Elena isn't immortal. She's aging every day.
One day she will die, and Caroline doesn't know how Stefan can stand it.
*
"Thanks for saving me," Elena says with a smile. She wants it to sound easy, like a joke, but they both know otherwise. "You literally saved my neck."
"Well, I like your neck."
That's meant to be teasing too, and probably Elena doesn't notice how sincere it is. Probably.
Caroline swallows -- a very human reflex.
That's one thing about Elena, always. Even still. The way she makes Caroline feel so very small and human.
It's nice, actually. Before it might have made her insecure, but now feeling human is just another thing that she likes about being with Elena.
*
Caroline screams when she comes, arching underneath Katherine's weight. Tonight she's cold -- slick and solid like stone, since she hasn't recently fed -- but it isn't unsettling. To some base, basic part of Caroline, it feels almost familiar. There's a rightness.
But then Katherine draws her hand back from inside her, and the feeling's gone. The blinding blood madness recedes, leaving her drawn and pale. The emptiness rushes back in, along with the shame.
"What's Stefan been telling you?" Katherine asks softly, sounding amused. Like an indulgent parent wanting to hear about finger painting at school. She toys with Caroline's hair, twisting hard when she makes to pull away. "Answer me."
But Caroline doesn't have to say it for Katherine to know. It's all there in her eyes: every whispered reassurance, every promise. All the times he's said that they can still make believe -- play at being human, even though they aren't.
Katherine laughs. "Oh, that stupid boy…"
"No," Caroline says, sounding cold despite the flush rising to her cheeks. She isn't sure which of them she feels a greater obligation to defend -- herself or Stefan. "He's right, you know."
Katherine takes Caroline's face between her hands, holding her still. "No guilt. No shame." Blood smears along Caroline's jaw, and she isn't certain whose it is. "Just fun."
Caroline shivers, and she knows that Katherine can feel it against her palm.
She smiles. "Don't you think you deserve to be happy? To have fun?"
The hunger inside of Caroline rushes up again, saying yes, yes yes, and it groans as Katherine kisses her deeply. When Caroline bites down, Katherine's blood fills her mouth. The taste is deep and draining, until it fills her up again.
Like being fucked until you can't stand. Like being fucked for days and lying strung out on the bed.
"Let's have fun," Katherine coos, blood dripping onto Caroline's tongue.
*
"Come on," Elena says, twining fingers together and never acting for a moment as if she the new ring on Caroline's hand. As if everything is normal. "Let's have fun."
It's a bright, beautiful day, and they sit and talk like normal friends. Bonnie is there and she tries to make believe too, but it's not as convincing. Her heart isn't in it.
Caroline wonders if Elena put her up to this.
*
Once Katherine leaves it's like removing infection from an open wound. There's still a soreness and if Caroline touches for too long, it aches.
There are times -- not many or often -- where she wonders if the pain might be longing. Meat calling out for familiar meat.
But whatever else she might have been, Katherine was also a leech. She understands this more than ever before. In some ways, she almost pities Damon. But only almost.
Without her, Caroline feels stronger. Brave. Not only when called upon to defend the lives of others (her friends), but also her own.
So that when Tyler betrays them (abandons all of them), it's so easy to cut him out. Like another sore gone green, bruised and aching. Cut it open, wash it out, and pour some whiskey on it.
It's good. It's great, and it's done.
She's fine.