No Matter Above Or Below-Part Four

[eenaangel]

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“You can’t be serious, Bonnie! Look at what Katherine’s doing! She needs to be here so we can protect her.”

Bonnie scoffs and turns angrily on her best friend. “She’s perfectly safe and I am very serious, Elena. We’ve had this conversation before, and my answer is not going to change. Stop pushing me.”

Elena shakes her head, hands pressing against her temples as she tries to hold back her frustration. “Bonnie, she ran away from everything! Where is she now? Who’s with her? With what she knows, she shouldn’t be out there with just anyone! She needs to be back here, with people who love her. This is her home!”

“She has a new home, and she’s fine there.”

“But not happy,” Elena pounces. “She’s not happy there.”

“Would you be?” Bonnie shakes her head. “Elena, her mother is gone and a lot of her nightmares became reality. Her being less than ecstatic is kind of okay, considering.”

“Maybe she wouldn’t be so stubborn about this if you hadn’t given her that stupid rock,” Elena growls.

Bonnie stops and stares at her friend. “You are not God, Elena,” she spits out. “You don’t get to decide who remembers what, all right? It’s her mind; she has a right to know. And if you keep going on like this, we’re not going to have much a friendship left. I’ll talk to you later-much later.”

“Fine!” Elena turns and stomps further into the house, not bothering to see Bonnie out. She storms into the kitchen and Caroline arches an eyebrow at the pout on her face.

“That went well,” she comments drily from her spot atop the island counter.

Elena smirks at her. “That’s pretty tame. Sometimes we can really get into. The heat’s sort died off now; we’ve been having the same fight for five years. She never lets me win.”

“Any particular reason why you decided to share that with me? I’m assuming there’s also a reason for this,” Caroline gestures to herself, indicating the formal green gown and accessories. “I wasn’t sure if I was in the right dream for a moment. This doesn’t look much like a Miss Mystic Falls redo.”

Elena shrugs one shoulder and comes to stand beside Caroline’s legs. “You were really happy that day,” she explains, extending one hand to tuck an errant curl behind Caroline’s ear. “Your hair is awesome.”

“You should see it now,” Caroline snorts. “You’d die of shock.”

Elena giggles and grabs Caroline’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Hair is important,” she says seriously before another smile breaks out across her features.

“It sure is,” Caroline frowns at her friend. “Elena, you’re dead.”

“Yeah,” Elena winces as she turns and plants her palms on the counter before easing herself up to take a seat next to Caroline. “I was kind of hoping to avoid telling you that.”

“You died six months ago,” Caroline looks at her friend sadly. “The dreams started at the same time. It’s not a coincidence, is it?”

“Afraid not,” Elena confesses. “I told you it was important.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Please tell me that this is you, not some angel jumping into my brain and messing with me.”

“They can do that?”

Caroline sighs and thinks of Gabriel. “They can do a lot.”

Elena wrinkles her nose and bumps her arm playfully. “How can I convince you? If I’m an angel, then I’m already in your head and can tell you just about anything that’s in your memories. This could get dicey.”

“So what? I’m supposed to take it on faith?” Caroline snaps. “I’ve had enough of the faith lectures.”

“Then I won’t give you one,” Elena says easily, not the least perturbed by the change in Caroline’s tone. “Can’t we just say that two friends were given another chance?”

“Chance to what?”

“To make amends,” Elena gives her a small smile. “I give good when Bonnie and I are arguing, but it’s only because I know she’s right. I wasn’t a good friend and I made calls that I thought were for the best, but maybe they weren’t. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Caroline purses her lips and looks away from Elena. “I suppose I can understand that,” she says softly. “I don’t like it, but I can understand it. After I remembered, I wished so badly that I could forget it again. But it’s too late for wishes and could-haves.”

“You’re only being this reasonable because you know I’m dead,” Elena needles her.

“It’s not possible that I’ve just matured?” Caroline asks with a laugh.

Elena bites her lip to keep back a smile-but fails. “There’s no way for me to answer that without getting in trouble, so I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear it.”

“Good call.”

They fall into a companionable silence for a few minutes, Caroline taking the opportunity to look around her. “So, you just moved in with them?”

“With Stefan,” Elena clarifies. “I guess you could call this the headquarters. Even Bonnie spends most of her time here, though she hates it. She sets Damon’s hair on fire at least once a month.”

Caroline laughs loudly at that, the image of Damon with his hair on fire bringing tears to her eyes. Elena’s giggling beside her and it takes the two a few minutes to get back under control. Caroline’s still brushing tears off her cheeks and tittering slightly when Elena slides off the counter. “All that laughing makes a girl thirsty.”

“This is a dream,” Caroline snorts. “How can you get thirsty?”

“Technically, this is a memory that I’m sharing with you,” Elena says with a wave of her hand. “And after that fight with Bonnie, I was thirsty. So I’m thirsty now. Follow my logic for a second, will ya?”

Caroline snorts, but says nothing as Elena pulls the refrigerator door open. She supposes that Elena’s right; she is being easier on her friend now that she knows Elena is dead. She feels a little guilty, because she hadn’t realized it. It’s stupid because she’s done a fine job of distancing herself from Mystic Falls, even limiting her contact with Bonnie to a few times a year. It’s not possible for her to know what’s going on in her hometown with the life she’s been leading. It has more to do with the dreams than anything else. If she believes that this is truly Elena (and she’s not totally sure if she believes it or just wants it to be true now), then that means Elena has been reaching out to her from the beyond. And Caroline ignored and shot her down every damn time.

“You should have just told me the truth,” Caroline murmurs. “I would have phoned Bonnie to find out for certain.”

“And then what?” Elena asks as she pulls a dark blue water bottle from the fridge. “You would have come down for the funeral? Let’s be realistic Caroline; you’re only coming back to Mystic Falls because of Bonnie. You’d risk facing him only for her.”

She says it with a smile, but the words sting. Caroline knows that she and Elena haven’t picked each other in a long time. Elena chose Stefan (and Damon) over her, and she chose Bonnie over Elena. Both injuries run too deep to heal properly-even after death.

“It’s okay,” Elena assures her, spinning the top off her water bottle. “What’s important is that you’re going back now. That, and blood.”

Caroline stares at her friend. “And blood?”

Elena nods and takes a long swig from her bottle. Caroline watches, a shiver of revulsion sliding down her back when a drop of liquid escapes from the corner of Elena’s mouth. The liquid is dark red instead of clear, and the speck of blood is a stark contrast to Elena’s pale skin. Caroline knows her mouth is gaping slightly when Elena puts down the bottle and her tongue darts out to catch the errant drop of scarlet.

“Blood is important too,” she says nonchalantly, as if she thinks drinking blood out of a water bottle is a perfectly mundane thing to do.

“Elena, that’s disgusting,” is all Caroline can say.

Elena sighs and then shrugs. “But it’s important.”

“Important like essential, or important like covenant?”

Elena smiles and grabs Caroline’s hand for another quick squeeze. “Don’t forget the hair.”

~*~

“So basically, you were never going to mention any of this if those bloodsuckers hadn’t shown up, am I right?”

Caroline has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Dean’s not in the best mood right now and laughing at his indignation wouldn’t help. But mirth is easier than guilt, which she doesn’t really want to feel. She tells herself that Dean’s overreacting, but there’s a chance he’s not. She’s been so preoccupied with keeping to herself, with distancing herself from everyone, that she’s told herself all sorts of things to justify her behaviour. But the truth of the matter is that Castiel and Sam were right; she’s been hiding and Uncle Bobby would have skinned her alive for it.

In spite of this revelation, she’s not comfortable sharing. She remembers what Stefan said about Bonnie keeping everything close to her chest, and Caroline understands more than she lets on. It’s too dangerous to let others know everything; someone always uses it against you.

“I mean, I stayed for like a week. You could have told me then. Like, right after I told you that I was worried about you because you were having really bad dreams!”

Dean’s face is slightly redder than usual and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are white. Rumsfeld’s whimpering softly from the backseat, his whine going slightly higher every time Dean raised his voice. She slides an arm back over the front seat and runs her fingers lightly through the fur on the top of his head. It settles him a bit, but infuriates Dean further.

“Would you stop petting your damn dog and answer me?”

“Don’t call him names because you’re mad at me,” Caroline says primly as she gives Dean a dark look. “It’s not his fault.”

Dean grunts and then sighs. “If you would give me half the consideration you give that dog, we might have been able to deal with this before it got this far.”

Caroline gives a sigh of her own and pulls her arm back. She can’t bring herself to look at Dean, to see the frown on his face. She’s hurt him with her silence and her secrets, and that was never her intention. She just wanted some peace after so much pain-ignoring things became easier than dealing with them. In all honesty, she’s not sure she would have ever mentioned any of this to anyone if Bonnie hadn’t been missing.

“And then you agree to go back to the one place you swore you would never go back to,” Dean continues to rail, picking up steam once more. “This is after you invite a vampire into the house. Did you fail to remember that an invitation to a vampire can’t be revoked? I don’t care if this isn’t the same dick that marked up your back-he’s still a fucking vampire.”

“What do you want from me, Dean?” she snaps suddenly. “Bonnie is missing. Did you even get that part?”

“Yeah, I get that we’re off to save a witch,” Dean grumbles. “And you know how I feel about your little Glinda-wannabe.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Caroline retorts. “You could have stayed behind.”

“Yes! I could have,” Dean agrees as he whacks the top of the wheel with his palm. “I could have said ‘fuck this-I’m going to Disneyland’. But I didn’t. Because I won’t let you go through this alone. I fucking love you, you little brat!”

This hits her hard, like it is meant to. Caroline swallows thickly and turns her eyes back to the passing outside world. “I don’t think there’s a need for so much profanity,” she mutters feebly. Dean’s response is to snort and she wipes away a few errant tears before he notices she’s gotten emotional. “I love you too, Dean. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. But I can’t change that. I can’t change anything, and trust me when I say there’s a long list of things I wish I could. But you and I know that wishes and good intentions count for less than shit these days. It’s either demons from below messing with our heads, or assholes from up high trying to dictate our lives. I just wanted to be by myself, on my own, and figure something out for myself without divine or demonic intervention. I needed to control something-maybe everything-about my life because it’s like whenever I let a little bit go to someone else, people die.”

“You’re too young,” Dean says, and leaves it at that. She wonders what he means, because she’s heard variations of it over the past five years. She’s been too young to go on a demon hunt; too young to hear what men are really about; too young to be so angry; too young to wear those shorts; too young to know good music; and too young to be so old. Maybe he means all these things, all at once.

“You’re not that much older,” she counters, leaning back in her seat to drop her head back against the headrest.

Dean chuckles, but it’s forced. “Now you’re just trying to butter me up,” he says, the humour in his voice not quite matching the expression on his face. The forced frivolity dies out quickly and Dean’s back to glaring out the front windshield. “I want to kill the bastard.”

Her heart rate picks up for a second, because she’s afraid that he will try. She loves Dean, but she’s been scared of Damon longer than she’s known Dean and some part of her worries that Damon would get the best of her friend. She knows he’s been up against the worst of the worst, but Damon’s a whole other ballgame. One never knows when he’s in a playful mood or a serious mood. He’s dangerous nonetheless, but he’s unpredictable in his mood swings and has killed suddenly and without warning many times. Sometimes, at night, she dreams of the day in the basement, of Damon clawing at her heels, and the sounds of Zach Salvatore’s neck bones cracking and shattering.

“Save it,” she says, pushing back a few pleas for calm and reason. “He’s not worth it.”

Dean’s hands go back to gripping the wheel tightly, the leather squeaking in protest under his fingers. “I’ve seen your back,” he growls. “I’ve been dreaming of killing him ever since.”

“He’s not worth it,” she repeats, but with fading resolve. She’s sounding defeated and broken, and she hates it because she’s starting to feel that way too. She hates anything and everything to do with Damon Salvatore; the thought of helping him makes her skin crawl.

“I want him dead,” Dean insists. “I don’t care what Cas says, I want him dead. And this whole plan, the one where we go and help him in any way, that makes me so fucking mad . . .”

“It’s Bonnie,” she whispers, her stomach churning as unwanted memories start to float around her mind. “It’s Bonnie. I need to help her.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Dean grumbles. “Why do you think the bastard made it out of the yard? But I still want him dead.”

She doesn’t brush away the tears this time, just shifts around in her seat so that she can peer into the back at Rumsfeld. Her dog perks up at the sight of her face, tilting his head slightly to the side before edging closer to her outstretched hand. Her fingers curl into his fur and she fights the urge to crawl into the backseat and cuddle him close to her chest. He’s like her security blanket; her smelly, drooling, hairy security blanket. And almost every damn night that she’s been tormented by thoughts and memories of Damon Salvatore, he’s been there. She needs a bit of that comfort now, but Sioux Falls is hours behind and Rumsfeld gets kind of sick when he’s been in the car too long, so grabbing him too tight wouldn’t be the best idea.

Dean’s hand suddenly sets down on her knee and she looks over to him, hand still running through Rumsfeld’s fur. Her free hand slides down and covers the one on her knee, squeezing calloused fingers tightly in reassurance and understanding.

“I want him dead too. But I think we’ll have to wait.”

Dean makes a face. “I’m not too good with waiting.”

Caroline laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, I know. I remember.”

Dean’s face goes a little bit red once again.

~*~

Two years and five months after Founders’ Day, Caroline Forbes finds herself haunted.

“Hello Caroline, long time no see . . .”

“What the hell were you thinking? What business was it of yours?”

“Stupid, shallow, useless cheerleader!”

“Vapid little whore who comes running at the first sounds of her owner’s voice . . .”

“You think she’s something now? You should have seen her with him. He’d hit, scream, bite-and she’d just lay back and moan for more . . .”

“What are you doing? She doesn’t deserve this. She’s a washed up vampire junkie whose legs fall open at the flash of a fang . . .”

“Just look at her back! Still wears his mark proudly. You were so useful to him, weren’t you Caroline? Tell me, do you even know how many people he’s killed since you let him out?”

“You found Vicki, didn’t you? Fitting, since you’re the reason she was out there in the first place. He killed her, less than twelve hours after you let him out. How’d Mattie feel about that? Oh right, you didn’t tell him. It was much easier to hide under your bed and forget everything . . .”

“I’m dead because of you, you little bitch!”

“What was my reward for saving you? For helping you out? You ran home, hid in your bed, and didn’t tell anyone where to find my body!”

“I should have let him have you. After all, weren’t you panting after him less than a week later?”

“He owns you! For now and forever, because you’ll never forget him. It’s always going to be about him! Even if he showed up right now, on your front porch, you’d jump into his clutches at just one word . . .”

“You can’t outrun Mystic Falls, Caroline Forbes. Don’t you know? It’s in your blood . . .”

“You’re living on borrowed time, Caroline. My uncle isn’t known for letting go of his possessions. If I don’t get you here, someone else will. You’ve been marked by a Salvatore, little whore, and Salvatores never forget . . .”

There’s a knock on her door, but she ignores it. The knocking persists, and she continues to ignore it. Then the knob rattles as the person on the other side tries to open the door. She hears calls from both Winchester brothers, followed by more knocks, and a round of cussing. Then she hears some clicking noises and she’s amused that they even bothered picking the lock. Dean’s always been short on patience and it wouldn’t be the first time he’s kicked in her door.

She pokes a hole through her jumble of blankets and watches as Sam and Dean push their way into her room. Sam has a warm smile for her, but it fails to make her smile like she used to. She still remembers the day he drove off with a demon, leaving her behind in a flood of tears. She tells him later that it’s okay, because Dean’s death had hurt him. But Dean’s back now (she still didn’t understand or necessarily trust that) and she still keeps him at arm’s length. He pulls and she pushes, and only God knows where they’re going to end up.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks, his smile slightly dimmer for her lack of response.

“Studying the Bible,” she retorts primly before covering up the hole and squeezing her eyes shut. She hopes they will get the message, but she knows they won’t. The bed jostles as they both take a seat and soon one of them is shaking her while the other is dismantling her self-made fortress, blanket by blanket. She grunts in protest, trying to shake off the shaker while fighting the other for possession of the blankets. That’s when the shaker turns into a tickler and she’s too busy shrieking and flailing to stop the blanket stealer.

When she’s out of blankets and out of breath, Dean (the tickler) finally stops, helps her into a sitting position, and gives her an unhappy look. “You want to tell us what that was about?”

“Well, okay. But if you just pay more attention in class, you won’t need to borrow my notes. You see, the Witnesses-“

“Cut the smartass remarks and just answer the question,” Sam orders, still smiling as he tosses a bundle of sheets to the floor. “Caroline, that guy really shook you up. Who was he?”

Caroline groans and tries to dive underneath her pillow. She’s not ready to do this right now and it takes a lot of restraint to keep herself from biting at the hand Dean uses to stop her descent. She glares at him mutinously. “I can’t believe Uncle Bobby is letting you do this.”

“Bobby wants to make sure you’re okay,” Dean informs her sternly. “And he says if we want answers, we have to get them from you.”

“And that we have to get you out of this bed,” Sam adds on. “He was pretty adamant about that.”

Caroline pouts and folds her arms across her chest. “It’s my bed,” she whines. “I should be able to stay in it for as long as I want.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Dean states as he reaches up and tugs on a strand of her hair. “Talk to us, Sweet Caroline.”

“I swear, if you don’t stop calling me that, I’ll-“

“Caroline,” Sam slides closer and puts a hand on her cheek. The smile is gone for now and she sees his worry plainly on his face. Her heart dips in her chest despite her strict commands for non-reaction. But it’s a stupid order because she’s got very little resistance built up against Sam Winchester. She can refuse to go back to the way they were before, but she can’t help but love him all the same.

“His name is, was, Zach Salvatore,” she finally mutters, eyes dropping to her bed sheet. “He died almost three years ago, trying to keep me safe from . . .”

“The guy that marked you?” Dean finishes after she fails to speak for some time. There are tears building in her eyes, and a few spill over when she nods. Sam is there in a second, settling next to her and wrapping his arms around her. She sniffles and relaxes into his touch, telling herself that she’s not falling back into the old pattern but rather just taking some much needed comfort. It is hard enough dealing with the ghosts of her past when they were just in her head, but when they’re were in front of her, in flesh? She hasn’t thought about Zach Salvatore in a long time, but seeing him with the other Witnesses, feeling his rage towards her . . . She can’t even describe the feeling. She just knows that every word he spat at her was like a knife gouging into her sides.

She thinks it’s worse because he might be right about everything. Damon’s been dogging her mentally ever since she left Mystic Falls and there is this irrational and unfounded fear that he would come looking for her. She knows in the grand scheme of things that she means very little to Damon. He most likely doesn’t notice her absence, or is indifferent to it. The only time she thinks it would affect him would be the times when Elena suffers for it. And that’s where the real fear comes into play. Bonnie always tells her (their conversations are few and far between-she thinks they’ve emailed each other once in the past nine months) that Elena and Matt still miss her. Damon wouldn’t give two shits about Matt’s feelings, but Elena’s feelings? He might care then. He might even care enough to do something about it . . .

The idea of Damon Salvatore coming to collect her is enough to drive her mad.

“Where?”

The question is sudden, and unexpectedly from Sam. She blinks in confusion, not sure that she heard correctly. But his eyes are deadly serious and Dean’s got the same determined look. She moves away from Sam and pushes herself up against her headboard, shooting disbelieving glances at both brothers. “You have to be kidding.”

“Just show us, Caroline.” Dean’s voice is firm, but gentle. She wants to tell him to go to hell, but the words catch in her throat. She wouldn’t wish him back there, not even in jest. Not now.

She sends Sam a pleading look, but he’s heard enough from Zach that he’s right into revenge mode. She understands the Winchesters better than they know; they’re just looking for that extra kick to send them over to Mystic Falls, loaded down with vervain weapons and wooden stakes. She imagines a confrontation between them and Damon, and she can’t decide who would prevail.

That scares her more than the prospect of Damon coming for her.

“You cannot go there,” she says forcefully. “You cannot. I mean it; you two stay the hell away from Mystic Falls.”

“Just show us Caroline.”

“NO!” she leaps up from her sitting position, towering above both Winchesters with a frown on her face. “You are not going there! I will show you the marks, I’ll show you anything you want. But you can’t go there. Please.”

“I don’t care who he is,” Sam growls. “He doesn’t get to get away with this.”

“He’s already gotten away with it!” she shrieks. “No one back home even remembers! Elena barely bothered to care at all! Don’t you get it? He did those things to me, almost all of them knew about it, and no one but Bonnie holds it against him. They don’t care because it was me. They probably think like Zach, that I invited it. Maybe they’re right-“

“He’s dying now!” Dean shouts, his face an ugly mask of fury. “Sammy! Get in the car!”

“NO!” she bounds off the bed and slams her door shut, blocking their way with her own body. “You can’t go there! Please! I don’t know what would happen if-I can’t lose anyone else to him. Please! Just don’t. I couldn’t stand it if he . . .”

She’s so overcome with tears that she can’t continue. She slides down the length of the door, knees coming up against her chest while her head falls forward, hiding her face behind a curtain of dark blonde hair. She’s joined on the ground by both Sam and Dean, an arm from each brother tossed over her shoulders.

Caroline makes Sam and Dean promise to never step foot in Mystic Falls without her permission. And after they do, she turns and lifts her shirt, showing them the marks on her back and telling them the story that goes with them.

Two years and five months after Founders’ Day, Dean swears that he will kill Damon Salvatore one day and Sam holds Caroline close to his chest.

~*~

“Okay, so let’s review. What are the rules?”

Dean shoots her an annoyed look as they climb out of the car. Caroline keeps her eyes on him, trying to put off looking at their destination as long as she can. Rumsfeld is whining in the backseat and Dean ducks back down to let him out. Within seconds the dog is galloping around the car, smashing his nose into the back of Caroline’s knees. She laughs at his excitement, bending down to hug him nice and proper.

“Crazy mutt,” is all Dean can say. She looks up to see him disappearing behind the open trunk and she’s over there immediately, a stern look on her face as he picks out a weapon or five.

“The rules?” she needles him, frowning when he responds by shoving a handgun into her hand. “I have a gun.”

“Now you have two,” Dean says before lifting up the hem of her shirt and shoving another gun into the waistband of her jeans. “And now you have three.”

“Okay, that’s a little too liberal with the touching of the clothes,” Caroline rolls her eyes and removes the gun from the front of her pants to the back. She shoves the other one inside her right boot, the left one already occupied. She adjusts her jacket slightly to cover the bump left by the gun, grateful that she wore the leather one instead of a hoodie. Hoodies are too tight to conceal the number of weapons Dean obviously expected her to carry.

“Like I haven’t seen you naked,” Dean snorts as he extracts a collection of blades of varying sizes.

She punches him swiftly on the arm. “I told you that never happened,” she grumbles. “And you still haven’t learned the art of knocking.”

“Why should I?” Dean gives her a devilish grin. “The benefits to barging in are just too good. And perky.”

This earns him another, harder punch to the arm, but Caroline can’t help but laugh. Her good mood dissipates as Dean hands her two wicked looking knives, each easily the length of her forearm. “Where am I supposed to hide these?”

Wordlessly, he pulls out what looks like a really old leather belt. Closer examination reveals two sheaths attached to the belt. Dean tugs on her shirt and she sighs before taking off her jacket and lifting up her shirt. “You’re really overdoing this.”

Dean turns her around and slides the belt across her body, just below her ribcage. He pulls it tight and she gives a small grunt in protest. He’s chuckling under his breath as he fastens the buckle and then he takes the two knives from her. She feels them slide up in the sheaths, hearing a faint click as Dean closes the small buckles. When he steps away, she reaches behind experimentally. The hilts are pointing downwards; she would have to unfasten the buckles before she could pull them out. The whole movement would probably take a couple of seconds.

Vampires are faster than that.

She puts her jacket back on, arching an eyebrow when Dean slams the trunk close. “Are you done? You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I could hide a grenade or two in my bra, if you’d like.”

Dean’s response is to gaze at her chest with an over-the-top leer. She shakes her head and pulls her jacket closed. “Sorry. I was trying to make you realize how silly you were being. I forgot that you have no shame.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Dean says, not a wee bit apologetic about his behaviour. “You ready for this?”

“No,” she answers truthfully, but she turns and starts for the driveway anyway. Rumsfeld is right on her heels, his mood growing increasingly sombre the closer they got to the front door. She looks up at the large house, remembering the last time she had been there. It was that disastrous double date. She remembers spending the whole night feeling resentful towards Elena and angry at Matt. Little things like shared memories between the two of them used to be enough to send her world shaking. It seems so silly now.

But it wasn’t all bad. Her and Matt in that damnable sports car, the sweetest words she’d ever heard from a boy (at that point in her life), and the softest kiss she’s had to date. Sure the night was ruined when they found Damon dry humping Matt’s mom in the front hall, but the ten minutes before that had been nice. That memory, for all its disturbing conclusions, is still better than the other one she has of this house.

“Caroline,” Dean’s at her side, a hand on her elbow and a concerned look on his face. She blinks, trying to get her bearings. She retreats from the memories, good and bad, and manages a weak smile for him.

“The rules?” she prompts him.

“Seriously, we’re doing this now?”

“Well, if I could trust you to listen then I wouldn’t have to constantly check-“

“I listen,” Dean protests, setting off towards the front door again. He makes sure to be in front and she knows it’s a precautionary measure. He wants to be the first to greet whatever comes their way. He doesn’t understand that she wants him anywhere but at the front of the line.

She jogs to catch up, falling into step right beside him. “You never listen,” she counters, edging away a bit when he tries to put out a hand to keep her behind him. “And you need to listen right now. This isn’t a regular hunt, Dean. I’m not sure how it’s going to be, what sort of welcome I’ll be getting. I left these people and never looked back-some might not take it as well as Bonnie. So, I repeat, what are the rules?”

Dean snorts, but when she gives a particularly nasty look he relents and begins to rattle off the stipulations she had created during their trip here. “Be nice, don’t antagonize anyone, don’t look down any blouses, don’t pull a weapon on any of your former friends, and don’t shoot anyone until you say so, or unless the situation calls for it.”

“And by that I mean life or death,” Caroline fixes Dean with a stern look, pulling him to a stop right at the Salvatores’ front step. “You can’t just decide that someone being mean to me or Damon existing is a situation that calls for shooting. Agreed?”

“You,” Dean points his index finger right at her nose, “are no fun.”

“Agreed?”

“You know, these things only work in theory, rarely in practice.”

“Dean!”

Dean sighs and holds up his hands in defeat. “I will try,” he promises.

She would prefer something more definite, but with Dean she knows that’s the best she’s going to get. She does take the time to give him a sour look before she rings the doorbell. They hear footsteps heading towards the door and Caroline suddenly finds her heart racing. Her hands are shaking as she reaches out for both Dean and Rumsfeld. Her dog comes to lean against her legs, his head situated right underneath her agitated fingers. Dean frowns at her before taking a step closer, pulling her into his side and putting a reassuring hand on her back.

The door opens suddenly and Caroline only sees long denim-clad legs and a white t-shirt stretched out across an impressive physique before she hears her own name being bellowed by a very familiar voice. A flash of dark hair and dark eyes and then she’s being lifted off her feet. She squeals in surprise, but manages to get a hand up to make a slashing gesture to Dean. As she’s being spun around, she sees Dean retract his hand from his jacket, a scowl on his face.

The spin is disorienting. Caroline manages to wrap an arm around the neck of one Tyler Lockwood before she puts a hand on her back, making sure her gun doesn’t fall out due to all the jostling. Tyler’s shouting in her ears, things like “I can’t believe it!” and “Where did you go?”, as well as “Damn it’s good to have you back!”

Then he stills and slowly puts her down. His hands are still on her back, pushing slightly against the sheathed knives. Tyler gives her a strange look. “Are you wearing a corset?”

She panics for a second and then covers it with a laugh. She steps back from Tyler, wagging a finger in his face. “Is that how your mother taught you to greet old friends? If so, then I guess my line would be: Hey Tyler, boxers or briefs?”

Tyler’s mouth twists up into the smirk she’s seen him wear for most of their childhood. “Caroline, you know it’s always been about the sexy lingerie between us two. Hey, remember back in ninth grade at Tiki’s summer party?”

“No, I don’t quite recall,” Caroline says quickly.

“Well-“

“She doesn’t recall,” Dean interrupts from the doorway. “And her underwear is not any of your business.”

Tyler looks between Caroline and Dean, a confused look on his face. “Is that your-“

“No,” Caroline interjects before he can finish. “That’s just my over-protective friend. Dean, this is Tyler. Tyler, Dean.”

“Hey man,” Tyler offers his hand, not picking up on the tension in Dean’s stance or choosing to ignore it. Caroline isn’t sure which is the truthful answer; Tyler never was a particularly observant person. But she wasn’t either, back then. People change.

She shoots Dean a warning look over Tyler’s shoulder and only then does Dean relent and shake Tyler’s hand. “Hey,” he says gruffly, stepping into the front hall and looking around. “Where’s the vampire?”

“Dean!”

Tyler just shrugs. “Which one?”

“The sadistic bastard.”

“Dean!”

“Damon’s upstairs somewhere,” Tyler says with a laugh. He turns to Caroline, his smile only getting bigger when his eyes land on hers. She quickly finds herself in another hug. “Fuck! I missed you, Care. Why’d you take off like that?”

She opens her mouth but he cuts her off. “Sorry! I mean, I know why you ran off. Felt like it myself after my dad’s funeral. What I meant was, why didn’t you come back?”

That’s a harder question to answer, and though she knew someone was going to ask it sooner or later, she still finds herself unprepared. She shifts uncomfortably, grateful when Rumsfeld takes that moment to explode into the house, a hurricane of barks and snarls directed Tyler’s way.

“Rumsfeld!” Caroline feels slightly scandalized when the dog doesn’t calm down. Dean steps forward, a confused look on his face as he takes the dog by the collar. Rumsfeld starts squirming and trying to get free, not even calming when Caroline kneels down beside him and puts a hand on his head. “Rumsfeld! Stop it! Bad boy!”

“You brought a dog?” Tyler asks mildly, not the slightest bit perturbed by the fact that said dog is practically foaming at the mouth trying to get a bite of him. “Since when do you have a dog? You hate animals. Said they smell awful.”

“They do, but I’ve adjusted,” Caroline says absently, trying to calm Rumsfeld by stroking his ears. It usually works, but today the dog is just barely placated. He stops barking, but she can feel his body vibrating as a series of low growls come from his mouth. She looks at Dean in confusion, but Dean’s too busy staring suspiciously at Tyler to notice her. She follows his gaze, taking the time to look Tyler over again.

He’s big, but Tyler’s always been bigger than the other boys. He does seem to have grown even more from his teenage years, and he holds himself differently. The Tyler of her youth walked around with a permanent chip on his shoulder. He was bullish even when they were kids, a condition that got worse when they entered high school. She can’t even count the number of times she’s seen him in the middle of a brawl, always so aggressive-always taking things a bit too far. Matt was the only thing holding him back from total meltdown. Matt saw it as his job to defuse Tyler at every turn, and it worked most of the time. But the last time she had been in town, Matt and Tyler were on the outs and Matt wasn’t budging.

But that was five years ago. Tyler now seems calmer. She thinks back to Dean’s surly greeting and is actually amazed that Tyler didn’t respond with equal if not greater attitude. At sixteen, that itself would have been enough to set Tyler off. But today he laughed it off. It’s odd and so out of character that it gives her pause.

“Does this qualify as a situation?” Dean asks her grumpily.

Caroline pushes him slightly with one hand and then turns around. “Tyler,” she says slowly, looking between her dog and her old friend. “You have something you want to share with me?”

Tyler grins toothily, and for a second she’s sort of intimidated. Then he winks and jerks his chin to the right. “Jeremy’s here,” he replies, ignoring her other question. “You should call for him.”

“You can’t get him?” Dean asks for her. Caroline snaps her mouth shut and gives Dean an aggrieved look. He doesn’t bother to take his eyes off Tyler.

“Well, he’s not exactly listening to me today,” Tyler chuckles.

Caroline fakes a pout. “Why not? You kiss Jenna?”

Tyler pauses and then laughs again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were trying to get a rise out of me, Caroline Forbes.”

Caroline arches an eyebrow and straightens up. “You are different, Tyler Lockwood.”

The smile’s still there, but it’s a little forced. “Five years, Caroline,” he reminds her. “And there haven’t been very many fun days since then.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

“Want to stick around this time?”

“Tyler . . .”

He nods and leans back against the wall. “We’ll talk when you decide. But you don’t get to come back and have everyone just give into you like that, Caroline. Of course, you were always so determined to have your way.”

Dean snorts as he adjusts his grip on Rumsfeld’s collar. “Not much has changed in that department.”

Caroline regards him incredulously. “Oh, so now you’re going to make friends? I think I hate you a little right now.”

Dean shrugs. “He’s not wrong,” he says defensively.

“I think it’s refreshing to hear that you haven’t changed completely,” Tyler says. “I was afraid that you would come back all angry and biker-chick, with tattoos and piercings all over.”

Dean laughs and Caroline kicks him swiftly. Her hand comes up to rub at her collarbone, the anti-possession tattoo there suddenly itchy. She gives Tyler a big smile that doesn’t cover her discomfort one bit. “So, why isn’t Jeremy talking to you?”

“Because he’s an ass. And he knows it.”

The voice comes from the top of the staircase. Caroline looks up and sees Jeremy Gilbert, but she doesn’t quite believe it. The man walking down the stairs barely resembles the angry boy she left behind with the others. It’s not just the clothes, though seeing Jeremy in a pair of khaki pants and button up shirt is vastly different from the baggy jeans and long layered shirts he used to wear. It’s also not the hair, a short cut that actually lets her see his eyes for a change.

It’s the calm, yet amused look on his face that shakes her. Jeremy was almost as bad as Tyler in the past, but he had actual cause for it. She remembers a sweet, eager young boy that transformed into a surly, drug-abusing teenager right before her eyes. Jeremy was always angry and that made him few friends in high school. She remembers the constantly hunched over stance he used to have, the lost look he used to have on his face during social events. It’s all gone and it’s weird, because he just lost his sister. So where’s the angry and inconsolable teenager she had been expecting?

“Jeremy?” It comes out like a question, because she’s still not sure.

“In the flesh,” he replies with a smile, coming to a stop in front of her. His eyes go up and down, taking in her appearance. He’s got one eyebrow arched and she knows that she’s surprised him as much as he has surprised her. “Caroline Forbes? In jeans and combat boots? What the hell?”

She frowns and looks down at her feet. She looks up again and shrugs. “They’re comfortable.”

“But are they designer?” She gives him a look. “And they’re still on your feet? Tyler, you sure this is Caroline Forbes?”

“Shut up!” she tries to glare but ends up laughing. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Please, I’ve been shopping with the Cheer Trio; you were that bad.”

“Well, I-“ Caroline sputters and then stops trying to defend herself. “Shut up and hug me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jeremy laughs and then he swoops down and hugs her tightly. The embrace carries on for a while and she can hear Jeremy letting out a deep breath. Tears threaten to spill for unknown reasons and she responds by gripping him even tighter than before.

“I’m sorry Jeremy,” she whispers and he only laughs again.

“For what? There’s nothing you could have done, Caroline,” he pulls back and gives her a watery smile. “Not that I’m doubting how kick-ass you are as a person, but it was pretty damn bad. We’re lucky that it was only Elena and the other six. It could have been the whole town, especially if that crazy bitch had succeeded.”

Caroline nods and pushes back tears. “Yeah, Father of all Vampires sounds kind of bad.”

Dean interrupts with a loud snort. Caroline turns and looks at him curiously. “You’ve faced down Lucifer,” Dean reminds her. “Father of all Vampires should be a cake walk.”

“And here I thought we had learned our lesson about humility,” Caroline rolls her eyes and turns back to Jeremy, motioning to Dean with a jerk of her head. “Jeremy Gilbert, meet Dean Winchester. Dean meet Jeremy, and be nice this time.”

“I wasn’t bad before,” Dean argues, looking to Tyler to back him up. Tyler just shrugs.

“Don’t worry if you were,” Jeremy says as he steps forward with his hand outstretched. “Tyler brings that out in most people.”

“Do you see what I have to put up with?” Tyler asks Caroline.

“And yet I’m the one with premature greying,” Jeremy tells Dean as they shake hands.

“Well, at least this hasn’t changed,” Caroline motions between Jeremy and Tyler with her hands and grins. “I see facing down evil to save the town has brought you two closer together.”

“He’s still walking isn’t he?” Tyler points to Jeremy, a smirk on his face.

“So, you’re Dean Winchester,” Jeremy says, ignoring Tyler as he steps back. He spares a second to give Rumsfeld a curious look and then continues. “You’re pretty famous, dude.”

“I am?” Dean shoots Caroline a confused look.

“Angels,” she says in reply.

Jeremy nods. “They could not shut up about you.”

“And not necessarily in a good way,” Tyler adds. “From the sounds of it, you gave them a bit of grief last year. Good on you, man.”

“Aww, you have fans,” Caroline winks at Dean.

“Shut it, Blondie,” Dean growls and looks at Jeremy. “So, where’s the asshole vampire?”

“Dean!”

“Wow, you are persistent. I’m like blushing.”

The voice comes from directly behind her. A little of his breath brushes against her ear and she’s frozen. Wide eyes shoot to Dean, and he’s already moving forward. Unfortunately, to do so, he has to let go of Rumsfeld. Her dog takes the sudden freedom as a chance to dive for Tyler with teeth bared. Jeremy shouts in alarm and there’s chaos for a few seconds. She doesn’t bother turning around, she just falls forward as Dean swings his fist at Damon.

She hears the fight, hears the grunts and slams. Her right hand is already going to her boot while her left is reaching around her body. She gets up, spinning around as her legs straighten, guns ready in her hands. She doesn’t stop moving even when she sees Damon slam Dean into the wall, one hand on the shorter man’s throat and the other holding Dean’s left hand (and gun) above his head. She spots a blur of activity on the stairs and moves her right hand in that direction.

Things come to a standstill. The blur’s stopped to become Stefan, who’s got his eyebrows almost in his hairline as he looks at the gun she has pointed at his face. She barely gives him a glance, turning her eyes to Damon, pushing the mouth of her gun harder against the back of his head.

“Don’t,” is all she says.

“Caroline has a gun,” she hears Jeremy whisper from somewhere behind her.

“Actually, she has two guns,” Tyler whispers back. She doesn’t hear even a sound from Rumsfeld, and she’s worried that something’s happened to her dog. But Damon’s got Dean by the throat and she can’t really afford to be distracted by that. However, her heart pounds slighter faster out of worry for her dog.

“Damon,” Stefan sounds more annoyed with his brother than he does about the gun in his face.

“I barely touched him,” Damon finally says. “I don’t know what she’s all angry about.”

Caroline jabs the gun into his head harder. “I’m not talking to you,” she informs him tersely. Damon stills and turns his head slowly to look at her. She just arches an eyebrow, swallowing the urge to scream at the hungry look in his icy blue eyes. She has nightmares about those eyes; she thinks she’ll be having another one tonight.

Damon very slowly turns back to Dean and then steps off. She takes a few steps back herself, keeping both guns aimed at the vampires. As he steps away from the Hunter, Damon finally gets a good look at what Dean’s been doing with his free hand. The hand is held close to Dean’s stomach and is currently holding Dean’s second gun. The other gun is still pointed up, aimed at Damon’s heart, and there’s a grim smile on Dean’s face.

“You are so fucking lucky she’s that damn quick,” Dean tells the vampire, roughly shaking off Damon’s hold on his other hand. He brings up both guns and moves until he’s standing next to Caroline.

“That was not a situation,” she hisses at him out of the corner of her mouth.

“It was so a situation,” is his reply.

Caroline rolls her eyes and looks to Stefan. “We’re going to put up the guns. Control your brother.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” Damon mutters and Stefan fixes him with a dark look. The elder Salvatore shakes his head and then backs up towards the staircase, his hands raised defensively. “Fine, whatever.”

Stefan nods at her when Damon’s a good distance away and she slowly lowers her weapons. Dean is more stubborn and she has to elbow him before he puts away the guns for real. She gives him a disappointed look and then turns her head to check for Rumsfeld. Tyler and Jeremy have taken a seat on the floor right next to each other, and Rumsfeld is actually laying down next to Tyler quite calmly. Tyler catches her perplexed stare and winks at her, bringing up a hand to pet Rumsfeld’s head.

“We worked it out,” Tyler assures her.

“These people are weird,” Dean tells her bluntly.

“We’re not the ones waving guns at people,” Jeremy replies with an easy smile.

“Those,” Dean points a finger at Stefan and Damon, “are not people.”

Caroline watches as Stefan’s eyes darken and Damon snickers from his spot by the staircase. “Shut up, Dean,” she warns him. “You’re not helping.”

“And we’re not staying here any longer.”

“Well, you’re not invited to stay any longer,” Damon counters. “I dislike having weapons waved about in my house. Get out.”

“Damon, remember what Bonnie said,” Stefan pleads. “We need Caroline.”

Damon shrugs. “I didn’t say she couldn’t stay. In fact, the Mystic Queen is welcome to stay as long as she likes.”

Caroline shoves Dean’s hand away from his gun before he can get a good handle on it. He grunts unhappily, but lets his hand fall harmlessly to his side. Caroline looks to Stefan. “Now what?”

“Well, Mom’s getting off work at five,” Tyler answers for the vampire. “And the meeting usually takes place at our house around six. Why don’t Jeremy and I take you to Bonnie’s house? Matt’s waiting for you over there anyway.”

Stefan nods in agreement. “We’re not invited there,” he assures Caroline. “Bonnie was pretty adamant.”

Caroline understands; Bonnie is as cautious as Caroline when it comes to vampires. All vampires. “Where’s her dad?”

“Vacationing in Europe,” Damon answers before Stefan can open his mouth. “Permanently. Little witch thought it would be best. Funny, she doesn’t have a problem asking me to compel a person when she deems it necessary. I thought it was a bit hypocritical, but who am I to question the great Bonnie Bennett?”

She’s getting angrier with every word he utters. Bonnie’s not a topic she wants to discuss with him. And not in the way he’s going about it.

“Shut up, Damon,” Jeremy gets to his feet and smiles at Caroline. “So, let’s get going.”

Tyler rises and whistles at Rumsfeld. Caroline goes wide-eyed when Rumsfeld gets up and follows, panting happily. Dean is backing up towards the door slowly, one hand still on the gun underneath his jacket. He’s glaring certain death Damon’s way and the vampire’s grinning like a madman as he wiggles his fingers at them. “See you later, Caroline.”

She pulls Dean out of the house before he can say or do anything else. Once outside, she gives him a little shove. “The rules?”

“I didn’t shoot anyone, did I?” Dean grins at her and then nods towards where Tyler is leading a complacent Rumsfeld down the driveway. “When did he turn into the Dog Whisperer?”

Caroline shakes her head and follows after them, an ache starting up between her temples. They’ve been in Mystic Falls for less than two hours and Dean already pulled a gun on Damon. She isn’t sure how she’s going to keep them apart while they search for Bonnie and she’s a little aggravated with Dean for giving her something else to worry when she’s already stretched thin. They are definitely having a talk the minute she can get some privacy.

“We can follow you,” she tells Jeremy as he heads toward Tyler’s car. Well, she’s assuming it is Tyler’s car because it’s a brand new Mercedes. She whistles for Rumsfeld and waits for a tense second before her dog trots over to her side. Tyler’s grinning at her from beside his car, his hand on the driver’s side handle, and there’s a teasing quality to his smile that makes her feel uneasy.

“Dude,” Tyler calls, looking at Dean. “Nice car.”

Dean nods in acknowledgement, a smiling curving his lips.

“You know, he’s not so bad.”

Caroline resists the urge to scream and stomps her way to the car.

Men.

Part Five

~*~