No Matter Above Or Below-Part Six

[eenaangel]

Banner by karahalliwell



Her house is still the same. Carol assured her that the place has been maintained in her absence, and Caroline now knows she meant that literally. She enters through the front door after spending a good ten minutes just staring up at the house. Stefan had waited patiently and he follows now, not needing an invitation to get him through the door. She swallows the tears threatening in her eyes and turns around to pin him with a glare. It’s easier to focus on him and Rumsfeld beside him.

“When did you get an invite?” she asks suspiciously.

He blinks at her, confused. “You gave me one,” he answers. “When Logan Fell took you, I brought you home and you invited me in so I could help you up the stairs.”

Oh yeah. Caroline frowns and tries to chase down that memory. It’s hazy, and not because of compulsion. Logan hit her hard on the head and the head trauma made it difficult to recall things clearly. She thinks she remembers Stefan carrying her bridal style out of a car and up her front steps. She has hazy images of stumbling through the front door and then trying for the staircase. Beyond that, she remembers being put into bed and then nothing.

“Seriously, Elena gets all the vampires looking for love and I get all the ones looking for bait?” Caroline wrinkles her nose in distaste. “I swear, I suck at picking the good ones.”

Stefan laughs. “Matt wasn’t so bad.”

Caroline sighs and nods her assent. Matt hadn’t been a bad choice as a boyfriend. Aside from being totally in love with her best friend, Matt wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Of course, he wasn’t a great boyfriend. She doesn’t think she’s ever had a great boyfriend. Ray Hernandez in tenth grade wasn’t so bad-though he did try to get into her pants on their first date, before they had even made it to the movie theatre.

She can’t really avoid looking at the house now. She turns around slowly, her fingers twitching just a bit. Her eyes sweep over yellow walls, dark banisters, and silver picture frames. She remembers a childhood here, when she was still a pink princess and her parents were still together. She can recall a few times that her parents were actually happy together-holding hands and kissing. She remembers having Bonnie and Elena over, running circles around the living room as they pretended to be ballerinas, superheroes, and whatever else they could imagine.

“Caroline?”

“I, uh-“ Caroline stops and brings a hand to her forehead. “Um, it’s just-“

“A bit emotional? Need a hug?”

She should be used to Damon doing this by now. She knows he’s an egotistical bastard who gets off on scaring other people. But she can’t handle it right now. She can’t take his unannounced appearance in a house that she used to love, but now hates because of him-because of what he did to her upstairs. She can’t just jump and shout and then pull a gun or whatever would pass as normal for them now. It’s not acceptable here, now.

She spins on her heel, hands reaching for a gun. He’s grinning at her manically from the living room. She’s had it with his grinning, with his twisted games. Stefan’s already stepping forward to scold him, but Damon doesn’t care about what his brother says. He doesn’t care about what anyone says.

“You sick bastard!” The words are out of her mouth before the gun is in her hand. “I get it, okay! You’re strong and you’re fast, and you can get me whenever the mood strikes you. I know! Why the hell do you think I spent five years hiding in South Dakota? Why? I know what you are-I’m afraid of you!”

Stefan’s all wide-eyed concern and sympathy when he heads towards her. “Caroline-“

“No!” she cuts him off, gesturing at Damon with her gun. For his part, Damon has lost his grin the second she started screaming at him. That should have been her cue to stop, but she keeps going. “No! He’s pushing it all the time because he likes it! He likes that I’m scared of him! Well, be happy. I’m not just scared of you-I’m petrified! You’ve been haunting me for five years and I’ve never been free of it! You’re my own personal boogeyman, the monster that I looked for in each shadow and under every bed. You drove me crazy with fear! And then you just show up at my house-my sanctuary from you and your kind-and you drag me back with talk of responsibility and needing my help. So now you can haunt me in person, instead of just in memory. Even in this house-the house where you r-“

Her words stop and the tears are making her vision blurry. She hates that she’s crying, remembers making several vows that she would never cry in front of Damon Salvatore again. She turns around, trying to shield her face. Her nose brushes against cotton and flannel and her arms go around Sam’s waist without pause. He takes the gun from her hand, sliding it back underneath her jacket before embracing her. His arms are tight around her body and she just wants to bury her face in his chest. The tears are still quietly coming; she’d been so close to giving words to what Damon did to her that she feels broken. There’s strength in Sam’s arms, comfort and love, and she’ll take it even though she can’t have it as completely as she used to.

“You need to leave,” she hears Sam growl over her head.

“I didn’t-“

“Damon, just go.”

“You too,” Sam barks at Stefan. “I want you two as far away from her as possible, and it better happen fast.”

She bunches her fists in his shirt and lifts her head to look up at him. He’s gazing at Damon behind her and she knows that there will be violence if both Salvatores don’t listen. But she needs Stefan here, can’t forget why she stepped back into this house in the first place. She tugs on his shirt, eyes watering again when he looks down at her with those eyes. She still loves those eyes, loves every little piece of him, and having him while not really having him is sometimes worse than everything else she’s been through.

“Stefan can stay,” she whispers in a scratchy voice.

He doesn’t like it, she sees it in the fire in his eyes, but he relents without argument. She rests her head against his chest, listening to the rustling noise from behind her. Finally, she hears the door open and shut and she lets out a sigh of relief. Sam’s still hugging her close, his lips pressed down against her hair. It’s such a nice feeling that she could probably stay in it for the rest of the day.

She pulls back reluctantly, wiping away a few errant tears. His hand comes up and dries her cheeks with his palms. She bites her lips and looks up at him, feeling longing tighten its hold on her heart. Sam knows, he knows everything about her, and she sees that same longing reflected in his eyes for one second.

It doesn’t make her feel any better.

She turns around before she does something foolish like kiss him, or say ‘I love you’. Stefan’s standing awkwardly by the staircase, eyes on the floor and arms folded across his chest. Caroline’s embarrassed by her outburst, feels even more control slipping through her fingers. She tries to reassemble her calm, tries to remember how she prepared for meeting Stefan this morning. She has to dig deep for some fortitude, uses a lot of strength to stop herself from shaking.

“I’ll take Rumsfeld to the backyard,” Sam murmurs in her ear before whistling for the dog. She watches them go, heading down the corridor to the kitchen. The back door opens and swings shut, the sound bouncing off the walls of the too silent house. Caroline fidgets where she stands, trying to look at Stefan without making it seem like she’s staring.

She clears her throat and looks to the living room and the couch Damon vacated. “There’s a safe in my mother’s closet. There are some boxes in there; one should be full of documents and bound journals. I don’t know the combination, but you can-“

“Yeah, I can,” Stefan says. “Are you-“

“I need a minute alone,” she interjects. “If you have any trouble . . .”

“I’ll manage.” This is followed by the sounds of Stefan heading for the second floor. She walks into the living room and settles down on the armchair. She casts a look around the room, taking in the framed photos, the various souvenirs her family had collected on their handful of vacations, and the old fireplace. She used to live here, with her mother and father, and there was love.

Now it’s full of ghosts.

A soft footfall alerts her to his presence. She jerks her head to the left, relaxing when she sees Castiel standing at the corner of the fireplace mantle, gazing intently at a photo of Caroline when she was a baby.

Caroline sighs and lets her head fall back onto the armchair. “Alone means by myself, Cas.”

He stops his scrutiny of her baby pictures and looks at her in confusion. “I am aware of what the word means.”

Caroline stares at him, waiting for him to clue in to why she was telling him this. He doesn’t, just goes back to looking at her baby photos. She watches him incredulously, unsure of how he manages to pass for normal when he doesn’t understand the littlest things. And then, begrudgingly, a smile crosses her face and she gives a little laugh.

He turns at the sound. “It is nice to see you smile, properly,” Castiel informs her as he walks over to her. “It is even nicer to know that I am the cause of it. You’ve been very upset with me this past year.”

The good humour leaves her instantly and she looks up at him blankly. “I don’t know what to say to that, Cas. You know what the problem is.”

“I know what you say the problem is,” Cas corrects her. “But I have come to know when you are being less than truthful, even when you are untruthful to yourself.”

She’s got a lot to say on the issue of truth, especially in regards to him, but she keeps it to herself. She’s not in the mood for more arguments. Caroline turns her head away and closes her eyes, faking a sleepy disposition. “What does ‘covenant’ mean, Cas?”

She feels his hand on her face, brushing hair behind her ear. She opens her eyes and looks at him, looks at the neutral expression on his face and the blue eyes that hold so many secrets. He stops moving her hair, settling his hand on her shoulder instead. “I love you dearly, Caroline. The same as I love Dean and Sam and Bobby. It’s odd for an angel to have this connection to mortals. Our existences are meant to be lived separately. But we have been through too much together to let our differences break the bonds we forged. You are angry with me because you feel cheated, and I understand how that is. But believe me when I say that my love for you is as true as His love is for you. He is our Father, and we are all His children. And though we may feel doubt and anger towards Him, He never feels the same about us. I wish I could make you understand the truth in this.”

“I’m not ready for God,” Caroline whispers softly. “I’ve got too much anger and fear to let Him in, especially with what He put us through. You can argue different if you like Castiel, but I can’t help the way I feel. Tell me about ‘covenant’.”

Castiel smiles at her faintly. “You really think I can answer that?”

“I was hoping against hope.”

“Some things have to be learned, Caroline,” he pauses and stares at her. “And some things have to be un-learned.”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “You and Dean should make a schedule,” she says sourly. “Coordinate it so that at any given hour of the day, one of you is lecturing me on how to live my life.”

“We would have nothing to lecture about if only you would live it,” Castiel gets to his feet and resumes his tour of the living room. “Look at this house. It’s yours, the whole thing belongs to you. But you won’t look at it because it reminds you of darker times, of things that can’t be changed. You don’t realize that your denial of this house doesn’t make it any less yours. These walls, these objects, the earth underneath it-it all belongs to you. It is your birthright and your responsibility. This is where your family comes from.”

Caroline shakes her head. “My family’s dead, Cas.”

The angel turns and pins her with heated blue eyes. “Only if you let them be, Caroline.”

~*~

It’s been three years and nine months since Founders’ Day and Caroline doesn’t have it in her to destroy her uncle so completely.

Aunt Karen was a lovely woman, but Caroline has only vague memories of her. Most of what Caroline knows had been told to her by her mother, accompanied with pictures of the two sisters growing up. She knows what Aunt Karen looks like, knows that people loved her, and knows that Aunt Karen is dead. So Aunt Karen shouldn’t be puttering around Uncle Bobby’s kitchen, baking pies.

Caroline knows that it’s wrong; she knows that it can’t be good. But Uncle Bobby has never begged her for anything, and she loves him too much to do this to him. So she puts down the phone, promises not to tell the Winchesters, and sits down to dinner with her paralyzed uncle and dead aunt.

“You know, you’re a lot like your mom.”

Caroline arches an eyebrow at her aunt, trying hard not to flinch at the unnatural paleness of Karen’s skin. Her aunt’s corpse has a small smile for her before she returns to rolling out dough for more apple pies. “You really are,” Karen continues to say. “Lizzie was always the same way. Fierce, thoughtful, and loyal. You wouldn’t believe the fights she used to get into on my behalf. It always made me feel guilty to see her in trouble for defending me, but I could never stay out of trouble for longer than a week a time. But she never complained; I was her sister.”

Caroline nods. “You were.”

Karen stills, not missing the emphasis Caroline places on the word ‘were’. She looks up from her baking, a warm light in her eyes. “You’ve been an angel to Bobby,” Karen says. “I know he’s spent his life obsessed with what happened to me and our-“

Karen doesn’t finish her sentence, but returns to her baking with renewed gusto. Caroline tilts her head and looks at her dead aunt speculatively. “Do you remember what happened?”

Karen goes still once more. When she speaks again, her voice is low and breathless, like she can barely force the words out of her mouth. “Yes, I do. I remember a lot.”

Karen leaves it there and Caroline lets her. No one understands nightmares better than Caroline Forbes. She shifts uncomfortably in her chair, wishing her dead aunt would do something other than bake. If Caroline’s going to be watching her so closely, the corpse could at least vary her routine to make things interesting.

“Do you know why your mother was the way she was?”

The question is unexpected and Caroline’s tempted to ask for an explanation. Her mother was a lot of things and Caroline never really understood any of it. Karen glances up from her pie and gives Caroline another small smile. “It was your grandfather’s fault,” Karen explains cheerfully. “Daddy didn’t know what to do with two girls. It just wasn’t something that was done, not in our family. Do you know? Forbes woman are a very rare breed of creature. Heck, ever since Mystic Falls was founded, the Forbes family has been a one-child kind of family. And that child was always a boy-a boy who always became the town’s sheriff. I thought that kind of grooming and tradition was useless and backwards. Your mother loved it; said it made us a part of something bigger. But our Daddy didn’t want us to be a part of anything. He wanted his boy, wanted it so bad that when your mother was born, he became the first Forbes man in over a century who tried for a second child. Of course, he only ended up with another girl, so you can imagine his disappointment.”

Caroline finds this fascinating. Her mother never talked of Thomas Forbes in any way. Caroline only knew of him from what older townspeople would say about him. They said he was a great sheriff, a man totally dedicated to honour and justice. Caroline always found it odd that her mother wouldn’t even talk of the man that everyone else always praised. But she’s starting to see the reason why. “Did Grandpa actually say this to your face?”

Karen shrugs, but Caroline sees the forced effort behind it. “Not to us; he said it to our mother plenty. He wanted to try for a third child, anything to get him that son, but our mother never carried another child properly to term. I think there was even a time, when your mother was about ten and I was eight, that the Sheriff was considering taking up with another woman. He just wanted that son so bad. He said it was because he needed someone to take up for him when he was gone, to protect the town as he and his fathers had done before him. He didn’t think a girl could do the job properly. Lizzie was determined to prove him wrong. She turned her back on ‘girlie’ things and dove right into it. She became Sheriff through sheer determination and the other Founders’ dedication to tradition. Your grandfather fought it every step-said he didn’t want some girl mucking up the family’s reputation. He was never proud of her, or if he was, he never bothered to show it. It made Lizzie hard, and it made me hate him. I wish I could have understood then.”

Caroline blinks and frowns. “Understand what?”

Karen sighs, wiping an arm across her forehead to clear away the sweat. It’s weird watching her sweat; dead people shouldn’t be producing anything through their sweat glands. Dead people also shouldn’t be walking around, talking, and baking pies.

“I wish I could have understood that when life turns on you, it’s hard not to take it badly,” Karen shakes her head a bit, smiling faintly at some distant memory that Caroline isn’t privy to. “I wish I understood that it’s hard being a Forbes, because you are so tied to that town that it won’t release you, even after death. I wish I knew how the safety and protection of one town was more important than the feelings of your own children.”

Karen focuses her eyes back on Caroline and her smile widens a bit. “And I want to explain to you why a Forbes and Mystic Falls can’t be parted, but you’re not ready for it. You’ve been through too many things; your life has been so different from your mother’s, that I don’t think you can understand it now. But I wish you could have seen your mother as a girl. I’d think you’d have a better connection to who she was, and who you are as a result. It’s easy to say your last name is Forbes; it’s harder to know why it means so much.”

Caroline sighs and taps her fingers against the kitchen table. Her fingertips brush up against the fully loaded shotgun that she’s been carrying around with her ever since Karen showed up. Caroline’s willing to do this for her uncle, but she’s not completely stupid. Dead people aren’t the friendliest, no matter what form they first show up wearing.

“I wish I had known you before,” Caroline admits after a long pause. “I wish that your child and I could have played together.”

Karen smiles, dead eyes watering with tears that she shouldn’t be able to make. “I wish for that too.”

Five days later, when Aunt Karen is turning and Dean is speaking hard truths, Caroline kneels down in front of her uncle and tries to take his shotgun from him. “I can do this for you, Uncle Bobby.”

Uncle Bobby looks at her, tears pooling in his eyes, and he smiles. “I know you can, darling,” he says in a voice heavy with sorrow. “I know you can. But I can’t let you. You’ve been through a lot, but your heart is still whole and beating. This would kill a part of it.”

Caroline’s grip is firm on the gun. “I can give up a part for you.”

“Can’t let you,” Uncle Bobby puts a hand over hers and squeezes. “Things are only going to get worse from here on out. You hang onto what you can, because some of it is going to be lost. Start now and there might not be anything left once this is over.”

The tears start flowing and she grips the gun tighter. “What about you? You’ll need all the parts you can keep as well.”

Uncle Bobby laughs, and it’s bitter and cold. “My heart shrivelled up and died when I did this the first time. I’ve got nothing left in there but you three, Caroline. You need to stay whole, darling; it’s the only thing that keeps this old man going.”

Three years and nine months after Founders’ Day, Dean Winchester holds Caroline as she listens to the gunshot that ends her Aunt Karen, for the second time.

~*~

. . . Honoria is adamant, and she is starting to sway the others. They don’t understand the danger of it. They just want to believe. But faith can be fatal when it is misdirected. And I have seen too many demons to trust so completely . . .

. . . The dreams come, but I cannot get a handle on the message. It is the same with Jonathan, though he thinks the witch has cursed him. He says he sees the darkest of things in his mind’s eye, and I can see it in the way he moves. Every step, every gesture-it is faltering and uncertain. He is not the same man we once knew. His fear and his bitterness are catching up to him. The dreams do not make anything better . . .

. . . A stranger has come today. I have no patience for strangers any more . . .

. . . The stranger speaks of impossible things. Honoria will not listen to reason, but only to him. I have seen the same things she has seen, but I am still wary. He promises too much; he may yet be the devil in disguise. I am too used to seeing monsters to see anything else . . .

. . . What will become of this town? Of my family and my friends? Should I abandon them, because I am too scared to trust? He asks for one little thing, but it seems too big for myself to accomplish. But it must be five; he asks for at least five . . .

. . . It is all too simple. A little faith, and there is salvation. What choice do I have but to try? It is just a little thing . . .

A loud bang snaps her out of her thoughts, the shaking and tinkling of cutlery and dishware jarring compared to the silence that came before. Caroline spots the culprit, a very large bundle of old, leather bound books, and then looks up to see who tossed them so emphatically on the table.

“I know way more about this town than I want to,” Dean complains as he throws himself into a seat with the same force he threw the books on the table. The table shakes as his legs hit it from underneath and Caroline has to smile sweetly at the waitress to avert a public dressing down. “And seriously, why do we have to keep coming to this joint? It’s got poor lighting and it’s full of people I don’t like, and they only have two kinds of pie.”

Caroline rolls her eyes as Dean lists all the shortcomings of the Mystic Grill and then addresses each of them in turn. “We come here because there really isn’t any other place to come in Mystic Falls. The lighting is not poor; it’s dim because that’s the atmosphere they’re trying for. Those people would like you if you stopped glaring at them all the time. And there’s nothing I can do about the lack of pie-variety, but at least the pies they do have taste good. Anything else you want to whine about today?”

Dean slams a hand on the journals and Caroline swallows the urge to tell him to go easy on the historical records. “I hate reading these things,” Dean growls at her. “Any relevant information is rare and infrequent. I spend most of my time reading about Honoria’s hate for the new style of dresses all the young girls are wearing. Apparently the slightly lower neckline was too wanton for her taste. And I don’t give two shits about it.”

“You know, you could go easier on the things,” Caroline muses, avoiding the issue of the journals’ content. “I mean, it took a lot to convince Tina to dig those up for us, and she might want them back in good condition. They are family heirlooms, in a way.”

“That girl wouldn’t care if I set fire to the things,” Dean responds dismissively. “She’s too wired to care about anything. Of course, her family is either dead or hiding in Europe. I can’t believe her aunt and uncle left her here while they fled to safety.”

Caroline just shrugs. “The Fells aren’t exactly known for their close family bonds. They barely blinked when Logan went mental and tried to kill me. Didn’t even keep a tab on the police investigation.”

“That’s not right,” Dean declares with a disappointed shake of his head. “You shouldn’t do that with family.”

“Lecture them when this is over,” Caroline replies, turning her eyes back to William Forbes’s journals. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Caroline, you’ve read those things a hundred times in the last four days,” Dean reminds her. “I don’t think you’ve missed anything. Your great-great-whatever grandpa didn’t write down the ritual. Neither did Honoria and neither George Lockwood. All that’s in these books is mentions of it, The Stranger, and the happy-go-lucky times that followed it.”

“And all we know is that it gives protection,” Caroline finishes for him. “Protects the ley lines from being abused by anyone, even those from Above or Below. And if the Founders adhere to the rules of the covenant, the Lord will keep the land protected. And the only rule that I’ve dug up is the continued presence of the Founding Families.”

“And Honoria doesn’t say anything about the conditions of the Deal,” Dean grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate to ask this, but have you considered coordinating with the vampire?”

Caroline feels her lips twitch. “You want me to talk to Stefan?”

“Well, he’s got his dad’s journals, right? So maybe if we make a list and cross-reference or some egghead bullshit, we’ll find something.”

Caroline stops smiling and narrows her eyes. “You want to work with Stefan?”

Dean rolls his eyes at her suspicious tone. “He’s not that bad, for a vampire. And he’s been doing an okay job of keeping his brother away. From you, at least.”

“Damon wouldn’t bother you so much if you didn’t bait him.”

Dean looks offended. “I never bait him.”

Caroline folds her arms across her chest and glares at him. “You asked him if the reason why he liked date-raping girls was because his daddy didn’t love him.”

Dean waves this off. “That wasn’t baiting. I was just asking about his hobbies.”

Caroline softens her gaze and shakes her head. “You’re trying to pick a fight. Stop it.”

Dean sets his jaw and avoids her eyes. “He hurt you. You’re my family. I get to kill him.”

Caroline sighs again. “Does it ever occur to you that it’s a two way street?”

Dean frowns and looks lost. “Huh?”

“I’m your family,” she repeats, looking at him sternly. “If I’m your family, then you’re mine. And we’re the only ones left. All you got is me and all I got is you, so how do you think I feel when you do things that could get you killed?”

He’s back to avoiding her eyes. “I could take him.”

She sees red. “Dean, don’t get cocky. Every time you leave for a hunt, you’re the same damn way. It frustrates me because you don’t acknowledge that you might not come home. Uncle Bobby was the same way-and then he didn’t come home one day. He was dead for a whole day before I knew about it, and I’m afraid that it’s going to be the same way with you. So if you love me so much, why can’t you do this one thing for me and just stop it already!”

Dean’s gone wide-eyed and she knows he’s trying to hold back his emotions. “Caroline, I-“

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cuts him off, standing up from the table and throwing her napkin down on her plate. “I’m going to the washroom. Order me some pie and get your shit together before I get back out here. I’m tired of having the same argument with you every day.”

She turns and stalks off before he can reply. She heads down the corridor and pushes her way into the women’s washroom. She paces in the small space, clenching and unclenching her fists as she tries to get her breathing back under control. It takes a few minutes, but after a few breaths she’s starting to calm down. She feels bad for blowing up at Dean, but she won’t deny anything she said. Dean worries her, almost all the time these days, and sometimes she thinks he doesn’t realize how much that affects her.

She turns to the sinks, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Four days of reading and rereading the same material and coming up with nothing is wrecking her. Her eyes are red and the bags underneath them are nearly black. Her hair’s pulled back in the messiest ponytail she’s ever seen and her face is pinched and narrow. Jeremy keeps making fun of her appearance, even bringing visual aids once to emphasis his point with Dean. The reminders of who she used to be and the sight of how she is now just drives home the length of time she’s been away. Dean barely recognized her in her cheerleader outfit, though his eyebrows did go high and she caught him muttering something about Sam being an ‘ungrateful idiot’. It had made her smile, right up into the point where Dean suggested she model her old uniform for him and waggled his eyebrows so suggestively that Matt stomped out of the room.

She loves him, but Dean’s the biggest asshat some days.

Caroline shakes her head and looks down. She fiddles with the taps, letting out a stream of cold water. She cups her hands, gathers a bit of liquid, and bends down to throw it onto her face. The chill of the water jolts her and wakes her a bit. She turns off the tap and runs her hands over her face, wiping away the excess water. She’s wiping her chin when she straightens up, catching a glimpse of another person in the mirror before spinning on her heels to face the stranger.

But the other woman is faster. Caroline’s barely turned around when her assailant pushes her back and slams her against the wall. There’s a hand gripping her throat tightly and Caroline’s vision swims for a moment before she is able to focus on the face of Elena’s birth mother.

“Hello Yappy,” Isobel greets her, a cold smile stretching across her face as she steps in close, pressing her body against Caroline’s. “How was your vacation?”

“Fine,” Caroline rasps. “Took in some sights, picked up bits of a few languages, and learned how to kill vampires.”

Isobel pauses and looks down, her hold on Caroline’s neck loosening a bit. Caroline pushes the gun in her hand out and into Isobel’s ribs. “Don’t move,” she warns the vampire. “The trigger’s already half pulled and no vampire’s that fast. It’s also aimed directly at your heart, so unless you want vervain in every inch of that part of you, I suggest you act smart.”

Isobel’s mouth is parted and then she throws back her head and laughs. “Wow! Yappy, you have changed! You’re all bad-ass. It’s kind of hot.”

“And you’re all reckless,” Caroline gives the vampire an appraising look. “Half the town is looking for you and they’re practically armed to the teeth. What the hell are you doing in the Mystic Grill? You want to die before you can even try to wake Lilitu from his Hell Pit?”

“I see someone’s done her homework,” Isobel sounds impressed. “I like this new you, Yappy. Not as tedious as when we last met.”

Caroline rolls her eyes, trying to glance towards the door discreetly. They aren’t making that much noise, but Dean would start to wonder what was taking her so long pretty soon. She just hopes that it would be soon enough. “Don’t waste my time with insincere flattery, Isobel. Where’s Bonnie?”

Isobel smiles sweetly and Caroline wants to shudder at the emptiness in her eyes. “Bonnie’s fine. We’ve been having a blast together. But she’s starting to feel a little homesick, I think.”

“I want Bonnie.”

“Excellent! Because I want something from you,” Isobel leans in closer, stopping only when Caroline jabs the gun into her ribs again. “Fine, be that way. But it doesn’t change things. I knew the second you were back in this town, Yappy. And I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the right time to talk to you. We have lots to discuss.”

Caroline fixes her eyes into a deathly glare. “What do you want?”

Isobel smiles again and this time Caroline sees a flash of fang. She tightens her grip on her gun and forces down any trepidation that tries to make its way into her brain. “Yappy, I’m here to make you a deal. And let me tell you, you’re going to want to hear me out. I’m prepared to make a concession, if you will. And I think you know what I mean.”

Caroline grits her teeth. “Talk.”

Isobel laughs lightly and then begins.

~*~

It’s almost dark by the time she and Dean get back to Bonnie’s house. Their moods have not improved since their slight disagreement before. And Caroline’s further distracted by her encounter with Isobel and her guilt for not telling Dean about it.

She leads him up the front steps, mind preoccupied with thoughts of Bonnie, Elena, and Isobel. She’s so engrossed in her thoughts that she doesn’t register the tense atmosphere she enters. She walks by the family room, intent on heading for the kitchen, when the sound of Dean’s voice drags her back. “So the gang’s all here? This should be fun.”

Caroline turns with a frown, walking back down the corridor as she watches Dean step into the family room and out of her line of vision. She moves into the entryway, eyes sliding over the room. She sees Tyler sitting on the floor in front of the television, Rumsfeld next to him with his head on Tyler’s lap. Her dog’s newfound familiarity with Tyler unnerves her a bit, and she can’t place her finger on why exactly.

Matt is also in the room, sitting on the armchair with his arms folded across his chest as he glares at the other two occupants of the room. Caroline feels the headache coming on as she takes in Sam’s angry posture and Castiel’s curious expression. Dean’s not making anything better by sidling up alongside Sam and whispering something in the angel’s ear while obviously pointing to Matt.

“Hey Caroline,” Tyler calls from his spot on the floor, not tearing his eyes away from whatever sports event he’s watching. “Your ex-boyfriend and his ambiguously gay partner are here.”

Matt laughs loudly and Caroline feels like ripping her hair out. “Can we pretend like we’re all adults. Please?”

“We just came to see how things were going,” Sam says, the first to comply with her demand. She gives him a small smile, not missing the way he turns his back on Matt completely to talk to her.

“They’re going fine,” Matt replies stonily.

“They appear to be going badly,” Castiel corrects him. “Your research is not going as well as Caroline would like.”

“It’d go better if you just told me the answers,” Caroline interjects, and then puts up a hand to stop him from speaking. “I know, some things need to be learned. I’m trying, Cas.”

“You should try harder,” Castiel suggests. She doesn’t want to scream, but it might come down to that.

“We’ll do our best,” Dean intervenes before she can blow her top. “But let’s move onto something you can do. Why don’t you tell us what Glinda the screw-up witch did when she ripped apart the older crazy vampire?”

This immediately stops whatever’s been building between Matt and Sam because now everyone’s got their eyes on Castiel. Caroline smiles faintly and then nods. “I think I agree with Dean. Come on Cas; share with the class.”

Castiel frowns and looks about him. “We’re in a house,” he tells her.

“And you’re sidestepping the question,” Dean throws himself onto the nearest couch and gives Cas the stink eye. “Cas, I’ve been reading an old lady’s diary for the past four days and it was actually worse than Samantha’s ‘dear diary’ phase. Don’t mess with me. Just tell us.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Jerk,” he mutters under his breath.

“Bitch,” Dean returns easily and Caroline’s heart dips a bit because it’s so much like the old days.

“Listen, Angel dude, you need to share with us,” Tyler switches off the television and turns so he’s facing the others. “If you want us to stop the rising of the Vampire King, then you should let us know what Bonnie did, and what she was going to do.”

“I’m not psychic,” Castiel replies stoically. “I don’t know exactly what Bonnie was planning. I do know what she did do, and it’s bad.”

Caroline takes a seat next to Dean and wipes everything else from her mind. “What was it, Cas?”

“I was not here when Katherine Pierce attempted to raise Lilitu from Hell,” Castiel starts off explaining. “We were otherwise occupied, as you two remember. But Heaven was keeping an eye on this place because of the ley lines. They sent Kushiel here, with some others, to alert the humans of the danger and to remind them of their responsibility.”

“Or, tell us what to do, or they would raze the town to the ground,” Tyler interrupts for a second, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. “Let’s not sugar coat it, dude.”

Castiel spares the young man a look and when he gazes back at her, Caroline knows he’s uncomfortable. Cas clears his throat and starts again. “Along with Kushiel, there was an angel named Pahaliah. He was a guardian angel, one of those bestowed the honour of granting wisdom and knowledge.”

“’Was’?” Dean repeats, an eyebrow arched high.

Sam coughs nervously. “Pahaliah came here with the original contingent, and he stayed behind to watch over the situation. He never returned to Heaven.”

“Well, he’s not here anymore,” Matt says quickly, a strange look passing over his features before he manages to force a nonchalant expression. Caroline glances at him curiously, eyes sliding to Tyler next. Tyler looks as confused as she is with Matt’s outburst.

“We know he’s not here,” Castiel replies, his voice taking on a harder edge. “He’s not here, he’s not in Heaven-he isn’t anywhere. When Bonnie killed Katherine Pierce, she did something to Pahaliah that ripped his existence from this world.”

Caroline knows her mouth is hanging open, but she can’t shut it. It’s just too unbelievable.

“Bonnie killed an angel?” Matt is the first to speak and he’s very pale at this point. “She wouldn’t do that. You’re wrong.”

“She didn’t kill him, not really,” Sam scratches his head, searching for the way to explain. “Pahaliah was here, in town, when the first battle took place at Willow Creek. He couldn’t go to Willow Creek, because those are the terms of the covenant. Neither Angel nor Demon is allowed to step foot in Willow Creek; the whole place is warded against them. Only humans and earth-bound creatures can go there. While Bonnie was there, she drew on Pahaliah’s power. She invoked him, called his power to her, and used it against Katherine. It wasn’t all her that day; some of it was power borrowed from Heaven.”

The silence is heavy and Caroline isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do. Sam is looking at her with this pained expression, but her mind can’t catch up because she’s still stuck on the idea of Bonnie draining an angel like some sort of magical battery. It doesn’t seem possible-how could it be possible? Bonnie is a powerful witch, but she’s not so powerful that she could take on the Host of Heaven. No human should be able to do that.

“That kind of makes sense,” Tyler mutters suddenly. All eyes fall on him and he looks to Matt, a look of wonder on his face. “Remember what she did? The way it all went down? Hell, I thought it was raining fire for a couple of minutes. It was insane-hot, fiery, and scary as hell. And she-well, you should have seen her. Mouth wide, screaming like she was being gutted, and her eyes-I couldn’t see her eyes. There was just fire everywhere.”

“Hold on for a second,” Dean stands up and points an angry finger at Sam. “That’s bullshit! Glinda couldn’t have up and drained an angel like that. I don’t like her, but she’s not a bad witch. She’s human, and she couldn’t just do that to a freaking angel. The only person I’ve ever met that could have power over a demon or an angel is someone who had some demon blood in them. I could see Jesse being able to do that, but Bonnie? It doesn’t make sense.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Caroline picks up for Dean. “Dean’s not wrong. There’s something else here. How did Bonnie manage to do that to an angel who was miles away from her? She didn’t tap into the ley lines; those are protected by the covenant. Bonnie can’t break the protection of Heaven. So, I ask again, what aren’t you telling us?”

Castiel turns and looks directly at Matt. “You should ask Matthew.”

Matt’s like a deer caught in the headlights. He straightens, his eyes widen, and then he’s looking around for an escape. Tyler gets to his feet the same time Caroline gets to hers, and they both crowd in on Matt, forcing him back into the armchair.

“Matt,” Caroline plasters on a sugary smile. “Something to share?”

“I can’t,” Matt says with a shake of his head.

“Please,” Tyler snorts. “You can and you have to. You heard Caroline; we need to know.”

Matt fixes Caroline with a pleading look. “Don’t, Caroline. I promised her. Don’t ask me to break it when you made her keep yours for five years.”

Caroline sucks in a breath and steps back. Matt’s not wrong, and though Tyler’s arguing with him, he’s played this well. She can’t ask him to break a promise sworn to Bonnie; she’s made a great deal of noise about promises and trust since Founders’ Day. She can’t force him without becoming the biggest hypocrite in the world-and betraying Bonnie. Bonnie who never once thought of giving her secret away, not even when Bonnie thought Caroline needed to come back for the safety of the town. Even then, Bonnie planned to come and get Caroline herself. Even then she was keeping her promise to Caroline.

Dean joins Tyler in the argument with Matt and Caroline steps further away from the three men. Sam is sitting on the couch she just vacated. Rumsfeld is right beside him, head in Sam’s lap while the angel pets him. She stares at Sam and he looks back at her with this look that is half sorrow and half shame. She frowns, turns to look at Castiel, and finds him staring at her intently. Her brain starts and sputters. She looks back at Sam in disbelief and he just nods at her unspoken question.

“Stop fighting,” she orders faintly, but the others don’t hear her. “Stop fighting!”

All other noise stops and Caroline turns back around to face Matt. He’s still looking pale and he’s sweating just a bit. She shakes her head, hands going up to pull at her hair. “I can’t believe this,” she says with a brittle laugh, on the verge of tears once more. “It’s like some sort of sick cosmic joke.”

Dean’s in front of her with his hands on her shoulders in no time. “What are you talking about, Caroline?”

Caroline laughs again and then drops her forehead to Dean’s shoulder. “She drank his blood.”

“She what?” This comes from Tyler. Dean moves his hands, pulling Caroline in for a proper hug.

“He offered,” is Matt’s only defence.

Another period of awkward silence and then Tyler breaks in with: “Damon’s going to have a field day.”

Caroline groans and pulls away from Dean. She goes to stand in front of the fireplace, staring at a photo of Bonnie on the mantelpiece. It’s from when she was about seven, and it’s with Grams. The elder Bennett witch has her arms wrapped around her granddaughter and both are smiling brightly for the camera. It makes Caroline smile and yearn for the times when their families were intact, they were just normal girls, and the greatest evil in their lives was cooties.

“So, angel blood works in the same way the demon blood does?” Dean’s asking from behind her. “It jacks up a person with super powers?”

“It forged a connection between Pahalial and Bonnie,” Sam explains. “He lent her extra power and they were able to keep in touch telepathically. Then, at Willow Creek, Bonnie activated their bond and pulled as much power from Pahalial as she could. She withdrew everything and brought it into herself.”

“She’s lucky not to have been burnt alive from the inside out,” Castiel interrupts, his voice still low and angry. “Pahalial was a fool to make such a barter with a human, even if she was a witch. She pulled his existence into herself and now it’s trapped there.”

“That’s why her magic is so off, why she’s been so different since that day,” Sam continues when it’s obvious Cas won’t. “We think whatever is left of Pahalial is stuck inside Bonnie and trying to find a way out.”

“Out?” Matt sounds worried and angry. “How the hell is he going to get out of her?”

“Don’t use that tone on me, boy,” Cas is full of outrage and rebuke. “You should have stopped her. It was a fool’s play. She’s lucky to be alive, and she’s lucky Kushiel didn’t come back for her himself. If we get her back alive-“

“’If’” Tyler repeats unhappily.

“If we get her back alive, we’ll need to get Pahalial out,” Castiel finishes. “There is only one way for him to leave.”

“He needs a vessel,” Sam elaborates. “He’ll need his own body to be able to leave her body. And then we can try to extract him back to Heaven.”

Dean scoffs. “If he’s stuck inside Glinda, how exactly are we supposed to get him to jump into another human body?”

“We can’t,” Castiel replies. “She will have to create a vessel for him.”

“Is he saying-“ Tyler stops and doesn’t continue, as if not giving voice to the thought will have stopped it from existing.

Caroline laughs, but really she wants to scream. “So, we have to save Bonnie from a group of vampires, get her knocked up, and then take her baby away so you can extract some dumb-ass angel from it? Great plan.”

She hears some thumping and crashing. “You’re not touching her!” Matt roars. There are some more scuffling noises and she hears Tyler saying something, no doubt trying to calm his friend down. It doesn’t appear to be working, and Matt’s anger only seems to fuel Castiel’s.

“It would be a small mercy for her!” Cas is nearly shouting. “She’s lucky not to have died when she first did this. But if we leave Pahaliah inside her, there’ll be no saving her.”

“Two entities can’t live in the same body,” Sam explains. “Right now they’re working side by side, but that will change. Pahalial is an Angel of the Lord-he will not fade away. Bonnie will slowly start to lose her mind and then . . . She’ll waste away and then she’ll die.”

There’s more cursing from Tyler and Matt, with Dean adding his two cents occasionally. Caroline just continues to stare at the photo of young Bonnie and Grams, tears sliding down her face silently.

~*~

Caroline’s in a field of grass, a small creek behind her, and fire all around.

“This is not a good idea, Caroline.”

Caroline looks up and sees Elena standing a few feet away. She blinks and realizes that she’s on her knees. Caroline gets to her feet slowly, swiping her palms against her jeans to clear away any dirt. She doesn’t reply to Elena, content to look around her and take in everything.

It’s a battle scene; no, THE battle scene. And it’s frozen. Nothing’s moving, everything and everyone hangs suspended in time. There’s Tyler and Jeremy; Jeremy has a gun in his hand and Tyler is in mid-lunge. His dark eyes are changed to a strange amber colour and his lips are pulled back in a snarl, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth she’s never noticed before. Matt is also there, standing next to the new sheriff as they both point weapons in the direction of a group of vampires.

Her eyes move across the field, to where she sees Damon and Stefan. Damon is standing, looking down at something. Stefan is at his feet, his back against his brother’s legs, and his face pointed towards the sky. She sees a bit of his face, sees the anguish and the mouth open in the midst of what appears to be a heart-wrenching wail. He has something in his arms-no, he has someone in his arms. She can see a set of legs and one bloody arm. She tries to move closer, to see who it is.

“You know who it is,” Elena says, stopping her with a hand on Caroline’s arm. “Caroline, do you really need to see it?”

Caroline blinks and looks down at the hand on her arm. She stares at it in confusion, her mind slowly coming towards the obvious explanation. She looks back at Stefan. “That’s you,” she says in a breathless voice.

“Caroline, forget that, please,” Elena’s begging as she pulls Caroline back. “We need to talk. You can’t-“

“Oh no,” Caroline interrupts her friend as her eyes land on another figure. Caroline’s eyes are wide and she feels her heart hammering in her chest as she stares at Bonnie Bennett. Her best friend, the one person she would face Damon Salvatore for, no longer looks human. Tyler was right; there’s something very scary about Bonnie right now. Bonnie’s got her feet at least three feet off the ground. Her head is thrown back and her mouth open wide. Her hair is flung about her head and her arms are outstretched, hands clenching into something like claws. All around her is fire, coming down from the sky like a waterfall.

“What did she do?” Caroline whispers to herself tearfully.

Elena’s right behind her, arms going around Caroline’s waist as the brunette brings herself flush against Caroline’s back. They stand there, Elena clutching Caroline to her in a backwards hug, for some time. Caroline can only stare at Bonnie in horror, not seeing a trace of her childhood friend in that face of fury and thunder.

“The Host of Heaven cannot step foot onto Willow Creek,” Elena starts murmuring into Caroline’s ear. “It is forbidden; an agreement struck between the Founders and God. Neither Above nor Below will place its foot onto this soil. The Host of Heaven could not come here to fight with them. So Bonnie brought the Host of Heaven here in another way, to smite her enemy. She shouldn’t have done that.”

Caroline leans back into Elena’s embrace. “It’s so much worse than Cas said,” she realizes.

Elena nods and hugs her tighter. “Bonnie broke the protection of Heaven by bringing the power of Heaven here. She violated the terms of the covenant, and set it shaking. Isobel needs to do little more and she’ll have Lilitu walking the Earth once again. And if you think this is bad, wait until you see what happens if the lines are open and the Father of all Vampires walks free again.”

“The town won’t survive,” Caroline mutters.

“’The town’?” Elena repeats with a short laugh. “Caroline, the entire Eastern seaboard won’t survive. Lilitu has a bloodlust that sometimes puts his mother to shame. Millions will die before the angels are able to contain him. And once the lines are opened, every demon and supernatural creature will descend upon this place. Then the trouble will really begin.”

“Millions dying won’t be trouble?” Caroline asks bitterly.

“Not in comparison,” Elena says, her voice dropping very low. “And that’s why you shouldn’t do it. You don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Caroline shrugs, trapped in her dead friend’s embrace. “It can’t be worse than if I don’t.”

Elena sighs and then sniffles. “You never listen.”

“I listen,” Caroline counters. “I just don’t agree.”

They stand there in silence, Elena sniffling and hugging Caroline while they both stared at the horror all around them. “Dean’s a bad influence, I think.”

Caroline frowns. “And why would you say that?”

“He’s taught you all about self-sacrifice,” Elena says, her voice mournful. “And you learned your lesson well. But he didn’t teach you about the true meaning of sacrifice-and that’s why you’re doing it all wrong.”

“Elena?”

“You should know when it’s time to sacrifice someone else.”

Part Seven

~*~