Happy Holidays, dhfreak!
Title: and then glued me back together
Recipient: dhfreak
Author: buries
Rating: pg.
Characters/Pairings: Caroline, Stefan; Stefan/Caroline; mentions of Tyler/Caroline, slight undertones of Klaus/Caroline.
Word Count: 3,296.
Warnings: Spoilers for season three; speculation; alternate universe.
Summary: She grabs Stefan, leaving a stubborn and stupid Damon, and runs. While hiding from the Council, Caroline learns she’s not a damsel in distress while Stefan reconnects with someone he used to be. Moments.
Author's Notes: This is an AU on the season three finale. Your prompt regarding Caroline training to fight against vampires really inspired me, and considering she’s torture bait in this show, I felt like this was the perfect chance to address that. You asked for my two favourite Caroline ‘ships, and trying to insert them both into this was one hell of a challenge, but I hope you enjoy the end product. I know this doesn’t fit your prompt, but I hope you like it, anyway. Merry Christmas. ♥ Title from The Perishers’ Sway.
Tyler dies - or so Caroline assumes, having fled when he screamed run. She’s starting to realise a habit forming; Tyler says run and she doesn’t even ask how far or fast or whether or not she can stop at the door and turn around and help him. The fear fills her chest, overwhelming her to the point where she thinks she’s drowning from the inside.
She sees the Council in every corner, in every shadow, and her heart picks up until it’s almost ascending her throat. She grips onto her mother tight, wanting to become her shadow, to ensure she doesn’t lose the other half of her, but Liz grabs out a suitcase and begins packing for her, throwing clothes and shoes, some that don’t even go to together, let alone are even in anymore, into the case as she tries to hide the fact her hands are shaking. Her mother pleads with her to leave.
She grabs Stefan, leaving a stubborn and stupid Damon, and runs.
*
He takes her far away from Virginia. They don’t cross any borders or oceans, staying within the reaches of home just in case someone happens to call, much to Caroline’s disappointment. It crawls up her ribcage and settles somewhere over her heart, crushing the hopes and visions she’d seen of herself standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
*
In Chicago, Stefan refuses to sit still. Walking along the streets, she tries to maneuver them to see The L without him noticing. With attempts to keep her foot one step in front of his, she finds herself almost out of breath. His strides are longer, more powerful, as if possessive of this city, while hers barely know where to press against the sidewalk. “You know, I’ve been thinking -”
He glances at her, an upward pull to his lip. “That’s never a good sign.”
She swats at him. He takes a few steps to the side, allowing her temporary victory in being one step ahead of him, but just as he always does, he bounces right back, standing tall, legs powerful, strides long, and she’s back to fighting a battle that hasn’t been declared. “I’m really sick of being a target. I’m not a damsel.”
The smile fades from his mouth as his voice deepens, turning into the mentor who had upped and abandoned her for a man with two identities and a pocket full of conflicting motivations. “No, you’re not.”
“And I don’t need rescuing. I’m, like, a freaking vampire, Stefan! I should be able to kick ass and be feared. I’m so sick of people thinking they can come after me.” She looks down. “The white knights don’t exist.”
After a few moments of silence, Stefan ducks his head, unsuccessfully trying to catch her eye. “You can change that.”
“How?”
*
They stay in Chicago. Caroline wonders if this is his plan, that her becoming less of a kidnapper’s target and more of their worst nightmare will happen by staying in a city where George Clooney is nowhere to be found.
Stefan’s grip on Chicago is strong and tight, fingers curling around the city while he summons the stubbornness of Damon. Her suggestions of moving to San Francisco or even Los Angeles are shot down quickly by someone she barely recognises. Stefan’s still struggling to balance Jekyll and Hyde, and Caroline wonders if maybe this city holds the key to finding that balance.
She stops fighting him when she realises his grip on the city mirrors the strong one he has on her.
*
Stefan’s idea is to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No one ever said he was a genius. No one ever said he had taste.
“I never said it was a good one,” he smiles at Caroline’s raised eyebrow. “It’s just - There are some moves. And you keep refusing to actually go to a class.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to embarrass myself and try and copy Buffy Summers.”
“She’s a strong woman,” he says, pointing to the television. “And so are you. You don’t even need to mirror her movements. You just have to believe it, like she does.”
Caroline glances at the DVDs sitting before her on the coffee table before returning her gaze to him. She doesn’t believe it’s possible. Buffy’s important, significant, capable of kicking down any enemy that comes her way, but she’s also sometimes a damsel, sometimes held captive to someone else’s will, and that’s what makes Caroline force Stefan to grab the popcorn as she pops the disc into the player to begin her unofficial classes.
*
Stefan sneaks out a lot at night. A part of her worries it’s to tap a vein, to make another mess for someone other than Damon to clean up, but he comes home clean, spared of blood, and seems more relaxed when he sneaks into the apartment under the assumption she accidentally fell asleep on the couch.
She’s sure her uneven breathing gives her away, but she’s glad he lets her believe she’s got one up on him.
*
It’s when Stefan’s not watching that she tries to high kick the air or punch a cushion off the couch.
*
“We’re like Bonnie and Clyde,” she says, as she places the groceries down onto the floor. She walks away from the bags, moving towards the window to look out at the city below them.
He goes to pick up the bags. “Just without the bank robbery and running from the police.”
Caroline turns around to watch him move into the kitchen. “Okay, so maybe a remake of Bonnie and Clyde that’s a major upgrade in the story.” She raises her hands, as if painting the picture literally in front of them. “Two vampires on the run whose only big crime is trying to copy the moves of Buffy.”
“I don’t think that classifies as stealing, Caroline.”
“Can you just live a little, Stefan? Please? You’re ruining the moment.”
*
He almost snaps her wrist.
Well, it’s more like he almost folds her wrist over like paper. With a make-shift stake in hand, she tries to press it into his collarbone, his faux heart, but the heel of his palm is pressing against her fingers as he turns the wooden weapon around to point the tip in her direction. Gritting her teeth, Caroline tries to summon all of her strength, while Stefan merely looks pensive, with his jaw set and clenched as he presses the tip against her shirt. At his victory, the pressure of his strength drops completely like water.
“I’m not strong enough for this,” she says, her hands coming to slap against her sides. She drops the stake on the floor in what she hopes looks like her merely letting it slip from her fingers rather than her waving the white flag and having a small tantrum.
Stefan bends to pick it up. “You’re strong, Caroline. You always have been.” Standing up again, his eyes don’t leave hers, not does he put space between them. He seems closer, more suffocating, and a part of her feels offended that he’s encroaching on her territory when it comes to being someone who smothers. “You just have to channel it. Focus it.”
She tilts her head back, whining, “How?”
He shrugs his shoulders, the stake between his fingers twirling in his grip. “Get mad. Get sad. Think about something that consumes you.”
Caroline purses her lips as she tries to think of something consuming; from wooden bullets to vervain to the threat of losing her only tether to her humanity in the shape of her mother, Caroline feels the anger swell in her gut at the image of her father’s tombstone. It’s too smooth, too circular, and despite her being a perfectionist, it’s not perfect at all. “I’m really sick of being tortured. And I don’t mean with just bullets and vervain.”
Stefan takes a step back. “Lets try this again.” He hands her the stake. “Shall we?”
*
She knows it’s not very Buffy of her, but Caroline prefers to stay indoors than venture off outside. There are parts of Chicago she knows she’s aching to see, but the threat of seeing a Council member lurking in the shadows has her feet rooted to the carpet of their temporary apartment.
It doesn’t stop Stefan, though. If she were paranoid enough, she’d think he was just asking to be taken.
Closing the door behind him, Stefan pads across the floor quietly. She’s sitting on the couch, trying to be swallowed whole by the cushions. The television is on mute as an old movie plays in the background. Her eyes don’t move from the screen when she says, “Where do you go?”
He looks up blankly at her. She’s unsure if he’s startled by her presence or if all the brooding has literally gone to his head.
She glances at him, eyes still flickering back to the television like an old habit. “You know, at night. I don’t mean to be the friend who pries and stuff, but it’s a nightly routine for you to just ... disappear.” She tries to cover her concern, or her intruding on his business, as Stefan’s changed from the boy she once knew. With humour, she tries to soften any potential blow, to try and not expose how unsure she is when it comes to stepping around him, “It’s dangerous for a boy like you to be walking in these streets alone.”
He doesn’t grin at her attempt at teasing. “I take a walk.”
“Where to?” She catches herself, shaking her head. “I don’t mean - You don’t have to tell me. I’m just being ...” She sighs, sinking further into the couch. “Smothering.”
“It’s okay,” he pulls a grin for her. “I’m not doing anything to be concerned about.”
“No Stefan the Rippner remakes?”
He shakes his head. “Never again.”
“Good,” she says, head held high. “I’m Buffy the sequel now. I could kick your ass and make you regret it.”
*
She doesn’t tell him she has nightmares of Tyler’s bones snapping, of him crumbling to dust turn after turn because Klaus is dead and so is he. He just seems to know. It’s not like she screams, or that she comes to him when it happens, but every time she wanders out of her room and onto the couch, Stefan manages to make his way onto the other end five minutes later.
*
Again, there’s a stake coming close to her chest. Stefan’s strength is overpowering, something she can’t quite defeat as the anger within her doesn’t completely belong to him. The faces she imagines shift from dark hair to blonde to brown to green eyes to blue to a blend of all the colours on the spectrum. It’s trapping, how his broad body seems to almost smother her without even touching her. She tries to push against his hand, to snap his wrist in half, but she feels her leg shift from underneath her as she kicks him in the shins.
Stefan stumbles back, wincing. “Ow,” he looks at her pointedly. She’s unsure if he’s amused or proud or pissed.
He says to never let her guard down, and so does Buffy, and while that stake is still in his hand, she knows they’re still playing this game. She charges at him, pushing him to the ground, the stake tearing out of his hand to clutter to the floor. Straddling him, Caroline rests her arm hard against his throat. “Say mercy.”
Stefan’s breathing heavily, or as heavily as her arm will allow, and she can feel his hand that isn’t being crushed by her other one come up around her arm to try and pry it off. It doesn’t work. She presses more weight against his throat when he manages a “Mercy.” Immediately, she pulls back, grinning.
“I think I’m getting better at this.”
Stefan seems to relax, taking in air he doesn’t need as he stares up at the ceiling. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
Caroline continues to beam, grinning widely at Stefan who mirrors her expression when he gazes up at her. Pulling herself off of him, she offers him a hand, which he gladly takes -
- To pull her back down to the ground. With him pressing his hard weight against her, Caroline lets her head fall back hard against the cold floor. “Never let your guard down, Caroline.”
*
He makes her pasta. The kitchen is small, nothing like the Salvatore Boarding House, but he fits in it just as perfectly. She stays at the table, flipping through a magazine while her phone lies quiet and dead beside her.
She can’t help but look up from the gossip to watch him focus on his cooking. “You’ve been to Chicago before, haven’t you?”
He looks up at her surprised.
“It’s just that you walk around like you own the place.” She shrugs. “I just figured ... you’re super old. It’s inevitable you’d end up here.”
“Inevitable?”
She nods. “Chicago is like the loneliest place in the world, isn’t it?”
Stefan takes a moment before he shakes his head. “Not for me, it wasn’t.”
*
She doesn’t let her guard down as she throws him over the couch, hearing a loud thump against the floor where he lands. She stays where she is, not game enough to climb over the furniture to tackle him. He’ll stand, as he’s beginning to, and launch back at her, but when he comes to his full height, Stefan’s grinning.
“What?” she says after a few moments. “Why are you laughing? This better not be another stupid trick.”
“It’s not,” he shakes his head, his hand coming out to make things peaceful or something. Caroline feels like she’s on constant alert. The moment she thinks this is over, he flips her, or turns on her, or tries to break her like everyone tries to. She’s not glass, and she refuses to be. “You’re just - You didn’t let your guard down.”
“And I’m not right now,” she says, her eyes never leaving his figure. “So ... Hurry up and do what you’re going to do. I don’t want to miss the movie.”
Holding his hands up, Stefan moves around the furniture slowly to come stand before her. “I admit defeat. Or mercy, as you say.”
Caroline crosses her arms against her chest, gazing him up and down. The smile on his face is genuine, which makes her entire body burn, but it doesn’t stop her from pushing him to the floor, anyway. “You’re paying for the popcorn.”
*
“I miss him,” she says at the stroke of midnight. With a pillow pressed against her chest and her legs curled up underneath her on the couch, Caroline doesn’t glance at Stefan except for only his reflection in the television. It’s blank, the movie they had been watching had been killed only minutes before.
“It’s okay to miss him,” Stefan’s gaze is on her. She can feel it burning against her profile, on the slope of her nose and right through her flesh to sting her cheekbones. “That’s your humanity.”
He says it like he thinks she’ll slip, like he has another him on his hands. Caroline knows she won’t ever lose control; in her mind’s eye, she’s chained to Tyler just as he had been to the wall of the Lockwood cellar. Incapable of breaking the bond, Caroline’s unable to not feel a thing.
“That’s me,” she says. Humanity sounds too technical, like this is some medical problem when it’s not. “I can exist without Tyler, but I can’t ... I feel like I can’t breathe, sometimes.”
Stefan’s quiet. She takes that moment to look at him. “It hurts every day. And I - I know you’re not here by choice, but thank you.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Caroline,” he says, seriously. “You’re my friend.” It seems like the first time in months, he’s starting to act like one.
*
The train is lit dully. Caroline doesn’t like it. With her gaze flittering across the walls to the graffiti and other passengers on the midnight trip, she finds her mind whirling at a million miles an hour as she tries to capture everything in her memory. She knows there’s a good chance she’ll never see this again.
“Chicago isn’t so bad,” she glances to Stefan, smiling. He throws his arm over the back of their shared seat, his fingers coming to brush against her shoulder. She shifts slightly, allowing his arm to slide down the uncomfortable material to rest on her shoulders. “It’s all gloomy and sort of like how it’s shown on E.R., but it’s not so bad.”
Stefan takes his time before his gaze shifts to hers. “Even with the midnight train ride home?”
“Even after that stupid movie,” she raises her eyebrows. “Chicago is ... I’m glad this is the first place I’ve seen outside of Mystic Falls.” Her attention is pulled to the window, watching as they pass the city lights that look like stars. “The company isn’t so bad, either,” she says, looking at his reflection before she summons the courage to smile shyly at him.
Stefan’s hand wraps around her shoulder as he pulls her into him.
*
“I used to be so mad at you,” she says as they walk along the grass of the park. “You left when I needed you.”
“I’m sorry Caroline,” Stefan looks down. Hands clasped together, she knows he’s about to go into one of his Stefan expositions that’s bound to make her feel guilty for even digging up the feeling she likes to deny she ever had. Hatred towards him. For such a likable guy, her resentment for him burned almost as brightly as a star.
“I know why you did it,” she interrupts before he can even begin. She looks at him then, seeing his face look inquisitive, curious to know whether or not the pieces of the puzzle she’s collected belong to the appropriate story. “I’d have done the same if it was Elena. If she was ... If things were bad like that.”
Stefan stops. It takes Caroline a few steps to realise he’s merely a shadow behind her when she mirrors him, stopping in front of him. “I didn’t mean to break my promise.”
“You haven’t,” she shrugs. “You just can’t break it in the future.” She looks at him hard, then, expecting him to know she’s filled to the brim with expectations. She’s had everyone she can count on one hand leave her at some point; seeing the backs of people isn’t the most attractive sight according to her.
She begins walking again; he follows, falling into step beside her. “Besides,” she almost bounces on the balls of her feet, pressing her weight into the tips of her toes as she lifts herself up briefly, “Buffy taught me how to break your nose and make it hurt.”
*
Caroline crawls along the covers of his bed. He places his book down on his lap as he watches her fluff his pillows, shifting them around to suit her liking rather than his. Fiddling with the sheets she’s lying upon, she doesn’t look at him when she murmurs, “Do you think we’re going to have to stay here forever?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head.
Caroline nods, accepting the answer. It takes her a few moments before she looks at him, her eyes sharp, filled with a determination he hasn’t seen since he first met her, “I want to graduate.”
“Then lets graduate.”
Recipient: dhfreak
Author: buries
Rating: pg.
Characters/Pairings: Caroline, Stefan; Stefan/Caroline; mentions of Tyler/Caroline, slight undertones of Klaus/Caroline.
Word Count: 3,296.
Warnings: Spoilers for season three; speculation; alternate universe.
Summary: She grabs Stefan, leaving a stubborn and stupid Damon, and runs. While hiding from the Council, Caroline learns she’s not a damsel in distress while Stefan reconnects with someone he used to be. Moments.
Author's Notes: This is an AU on the season three finale. Your prompt regarding Caroline training to fight against vampires really inspired me, and considering she’s torture bait in this show, I felt like this was the perfect chance to address that. You asked for my two favourite Caroline ‘ships, and trying to insert them both into this was one hell of a challenge, but I hope you enjoy the end product. I know this doesn’t fit your prompt, but I hope you like it, anyway. Merry Christmas. ♥ Title from The Perishers’ Sway.
Tyler dies - or so Caroline assumes, having fled when he screamed run. She’s starting to realise a habit forming; Tyler says run and she doesn’t even ask how far or fast or whether or not she can stop at the door and turn around and help him. The fear fills her chest, overwhelming her to the point where she thinks she’s drowning from the inside.
She sees the Council in every corner, in every shadow, and her heart picks up until it’s almost ascending her throat. She grips onto her mother tight, wanting to become her shadow, to ensure she doesn’t lose the other half of her, but Liz grabs out a suitcase and begins packing for her, throwing clothes and shoes, some that don’t even go to together, let alone are even in anymore, into the case as she tries to hide the fact her hands are shaking. Her mother pleads with her to leave.
She grabs Stefan, leaving a stubborn and stupid Damon, and runs.
*
He takes her far away from Virginia. They don’t cross any borders or oceans, staying within the reaches of home just in case someone happens to call, much to Caroline’s disappointment. It crawls up her ribcage and settles somewhere over her heart, crushing the hopes and visions she’d seen of herself standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
*
In Chicago, Stefan refuses to sit still. Walking along the streets, she tries to maneuver them to see The L without him noticing. With attempts to keep her foot one step in front of his, she finds herself almost out of breath. His strides are longer, more powerful, as if possessive of this city, while hers barely know where to press against the sidewalk. “You know, I’ve been thinking -”
He glances at her, an upward pull to his lip. “That’s never a good sign.”
She swats at him. He takes a few steps to the side, allowing her temporary victory in being one step ahead of him, but just as he always does, he bounces right back, standing tall, legs powerful, strides long, and she’s back to fighting a battle that hasn’t been declared. “I’m really sick of being a target. I’m not a damsel.”
The smile fades from his mouth as his voice deepens, turning into the mentor who had upped and abandoned her for a man with two identities and a pocket full of conflicting motivations. “No, you’re not.”
“And I don’t need rescuing. I’m, like, a freaking vampire, Stefan! I should be able to kick ass and be feared. I’m so sick of people thinking they can come after me.” She looks down. “The white knights don’t exist.”
After a few moments of silence, Stefan ducks his head, unsuccessfully trying to catch her eye. “You can change that.”
“How?”
*
They stay in Chicago. Caroline wonders if this is his plan, that her becoming less of a kidnapper’s target and more of their worst nightmare will happen by staying in a city where George Clooney is nowhere to be found.
Stefan’s grip on Chicago is strong and tight, fingers curling around the city while he summons the stubbornness of Damon. Her suggestions of moving to San Francisco or even Los Angeles are shot down quickly by someone she barely recognises. Stefan’s still struggling to balance Jekyll and Hyde, and Caroline wonders if maybe this city holds the key to finding that balance.
She stops fighting him when she realises his grip on the city mirrors the strong one he has on her.
*
Stefan’s idea is to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No one ever said he was a genius. No one ever said he had taste.
“I never said it was a good one,” he smiles at Caroline’s raised eyebrow. “It’s just - There are some moves. And you keep refusing to actually go to a class.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to embarrass myself and try and copy Buffy Summers.”
“She’s a strong woman,” he says, pointing to the television. “And so are you. You don’t even need to mirror her movements. You just have to believe it, like she does.”
Caroline glances at the DVDs sitting before her on the coffee table before returning her gaze to him. She doesn’t believe it’s possible. Buffy’s important, significant, capable of kicking down any enemy that comes her way, but she’s also sometimes a damsel, sometimes held captive to someone else’s will, and that’s what makes Caroline force Stefan to grab the popcorn as she pops the disc into the player to begin her unofficial classes.
*
Stefan sneaks out a lot at night. A part of her worries it’s to tap a vein, to make another mess for someone other than Damon to clean up, but he comes home clean, spared of blood, and seems more relaxed when he sneaks into the apartment under the assumption she accidentally fell asleep on the couch.
She’s sure her uneven breathing gives her away, but she’s glad he lets her believe she’s got one up on him.
*
It’s when Stefan’s not watching that she tries to high kick the air or punch a cushion off the couch.
*
“We’re like Bonnie and Clyde,” she says, as she places the groceries down onto the floor. She walks away from the bags, moving towards the window to look out at the city below them.
He goes to pick up the bags. “Just without the bank robbery and running from the police.”
Caroline turns around to watch him move into the kitchen. “Okay, so maybe a remake of Bonnie and Clyde that’s a major upgrade in the story.” She raises her hands, as if painting the picture literally in front of them. “Two vampires on the run whose only big crime is trying to copy the moves of Buffy.”
“I don’t think that classifies as stealing, Caroline.”
“Can you just live a little, Stefan? Please? You’re ruining the moment.”
*
He almost snaps her wrist.
Well, it’s more like he almost folds her wrist over like paper. With a make-shift stake in hand, she tries to press it into his collarbone, his faux heart, but the heel of his palm is pressing against her fingers as he turns the wooden weapon around to point the tip in her direction. Gritting her teeth, Caroline tries to summon all of her strength, while Stefan merely looks pensive, with his jaw set and clenched as he presses the tip against her shirt. At his victory, the pressure of his strength drops completely like water.
“I’m not strong enough for this,” she says, her hands coming to slap against her sides. She drops the stake on the floor in what she hopes looks like her merely letting it slip from her fingers rather than her waving the white flag and having a small tantrum.
Stefan bends to pick it up. “You’re strong, Caroline. You always have been.” Standing up again, his eyes don’t leave hers, not does he put space between them. He seems closer, more suffocating, and a part of her feels offended that he’s encroaching on her territory when it comes to being someone who smothers. “You just have to channel it. Focus it.”
She tilts her head back, whining, “How?”
He shrugs his shoulders, the stake between his fingers twirling in his grip. “Get mad. Get sad. Think about something that consumes you.”
Caroline purses her lips as she tries to think of something consuming; from wooden bullets to vervain to the threat of losing her only tether to her humanity in the shape of her mother, Caroline feels the anger swell in her gut at the image of her father’s tombstone. It’s too smooth, too circular, and despite her being a perfectionist, it’s not perfect at all. “I’m really sick of being tortured. And I don’t mean with just bullets and vervain.”
Stefan takes a step back. “Lets try this again.” He hands her the stake. “Shall we?”
*
She knows it’s not very Buffy of her, but Caroline prefers to stay indoors than venture off outside. There are parts of Chicago she knows she’s aching to see, but the threat of seeing a Council member lurking in the shadows has her feet rooted to the carpet of their temporary apartment.
It doesn’t stop Stefan, though. If she were paranoid enough, she’d think he was just asking to be taken.
Closing the door behind him, Stefan pads across the floor quietly. She’s sitting on the couch, trying to be swallowed whole by the cushions. The television is on mute as an old movie plays in the background. Her eyes don’t move from the screen when she says, “Where do you go?”
He looks up blankly at her. She’s unsure if he’s startled by her presence or if all the brooding has literally gone to his head.
She glances at him, eyes still flickering back to the television like an old habit. “You know, at night. I don’t mean to be the friend who pries and stuff, but it’s a nightly routine for you to just ... disappear.” She tries to cover her concern, or her intruding on his business, as Stefan’s changed from the boy she once knew. With humour, she tries to soften any potential blow, to try and not expose how unsure she is when it comes to stepping around him, “It’s dangerous for a boy like you to be walking in these streets alone.”
He doesn’t grin at her attempt at teasing. “I take a walk.”
“Where to?” She catches herself, shaking her head. “I don’t mean - You don’t have to tell me. I’m just being ...” She sighs, sinking further into the couch. “Smothering.”
“It’s okay,” he pulls a grin for her. “I’m not doing anything to be concerned about.”
“No Stefan the Rippner remakes?”
He shakes his head. “Never again.”
“Good,” she says, head held high. “I’m Buffy the sequel now. I could kick your ass and make you regret it.”
*
She doesn’t tell him she has nightmares of Tyler’s bones snapping, of him crumbling to dust turn after turn because Klaus is dead and so is he. He just seems to know. It’s not like she screams, or that she comes to him when it happens, but every time she wanders out of her room and onto the couch, Stefan manages to make his way onto the other end five minutes later.
*
Again, there’s a stake coming close to her chest. Stefan’s strength is overpowering, something she can’t quite defeat as the anger within her doesn’t completely belong to him. The faces she imagines shift from dark hair to blonde to brown to green eyes to blue to a blend of all the colours on the spectrum. It’s trapping, how his broad body seems to almost smother her without even touching her. She tries to push against his hand, to snap his wrist in half, but she feels her leg shift from underneath her as she kicks him in the shins.
Stefan stumbles back, wincing. “Ow,” he looks at her pointedly. She’s unsure if he’s amused or proud or pissed.
He says to never let her guard down, and so does Buffy, and while that stake is still in his hand, she knows they’re still playing this game. She charges at him, pushing him to the ground, the stake tearing out of his hand to clutter to the floor. Straddling him, Caroline rests her arm hard against his throat. “Say mercy.”
Stefan’s breathing heavily, or as heavily as her arm will allow, and she can feel his hand that isn’t being crushed by her other one come up around her arm to try and pry it off. It doesn’t work. She presses more weight against his throat when he manages a “Mercy.” Immediately, she pulls back, grinning.
“I think I’m getting better at this.”
Stefan seems to relax, taking in air he doesn’t need as he stares up at the ceiling. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
Caroline continues to beam, grinning widely at Stefan who mirrors her expression when he gazes up at her. Pulling herself off of him, she offers him a hand, which he gladly takes -
- To pull her back down to the ground. With him pressing his hard weight against her, Caroline lets her head fall back hard against the cold floor. “Never let your guard down, Caroline.”
*
He makes her pasta. The kitchen is small, nothing like the Salvatore Boarding House, but he fits in it just as perfectly. She stays at the table, flipping through a magazine while her phone lies quiet and dead beside her.
She can’t help but look up from the gossip to watch him focus on his cooking. “You’ve been to Chicago before, haven’t you?”
He looks up at her surprised.
“It’s just that you walk around like you own the place.” She shrugs. “I just figured ... you’re super old. It’s inevitable you’d end up here.”
“Inevitable?”
She nods. “Chicago is like the loneliest place in the world, isn’t it?”
Stefan takes a moment before he shakes his head. “Not for me, it wasn’t.”
*
She doesn’t let her guard down as she throws him over the couch, hearing a loud thump against the floor where he lands. She stays where she is, not game enough to climb over the furniture to tackle him. He’ll stand, as he’s beginning to, and launch back at her, but when he comes to his full height, Stefan’s grinning.
“What?” she says after a few moments. “Why are you laughing? This better not be another stupid trick.”
“It’s not,” he shakes his head, his hand coming out to make things peaceful or something. Caroline feels like she’s on constant alert. The moment she thinks this is over, he flips her, or turns on her, or tries to break her like everyone tries to. She’s not glass, and she refuses to be. “You’re just - You didn’t let your guard down.”
“And I’m not right now,” she says, her eyes never leaving his figure. “So ... Hurry up and do what you’re going to do. I don’t want to miss the movie.”
Holding his hands up, Stefan moves around the furniture slowly to come stand before her. “I admit defeat. Or mercy, as you say.”
Caroline crosses her arms against her chest, gazing him up and down. The smile on his face is genuine, which makes her entire body burn, but it doesn’t stop her from pushing him to the floor, anyway. “You’re paying for the popcorn.”
*
“I miss him,” she says at the stroke of midnight. With a pillow pressed against her chest and her legs curled up underneath her on the couch, Caroline doesn’t glance at Stefan except for only his reflection in the television. It’s blank, the movie they had been watching had been killed only minutes before.
“It’s okay to miss him,” Stefan’s gaze is on her. She can feel it burning against her profile, on the slope of her nose and right through her flesh to sting her cheekbones. “That’s your humanity.”
He says it like he thinks she’ll slip, like he has another him on his hands. Caroline knows she won’t ever lose control; in her mind’s eye, she’s chained to Tyler just as he had been to the wall of the Lockwood cellar. Incapable of breaking the bond, Caroline’s unable to not feel a thing.
“That’s me,” she says. Humanity sounds too technical, like this is some medical problem when it’s not. “I can exist without Tyler, but I can’t ... I feel like I can’t breathe, sometimes.”
Stefan’s quiet. She takes that moment to look at him. “It hurts every day. And I - I know you’re not here by choice, but thank you.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Caroline,” he says, seriously. “You’re my friend.” It seems like the first time in months, he’s starting to act like one.
*
The train is lit dully. Caroline doesn’t like it. With her gaze flittering across the walls to the graffiti and other passengers on the midnight trip, she finds her mind whirling at a million miles an hour as she tries to capture everything in her memory. She knows there’s a good chance she’ll never see this again.
“Chicago isn’t so bad,” she glances to Stefan, smiling. He throws his arm over the back of their shared seat, his fingers coming to brush against her shoulder. She shifts slightly, allowing his arm to slide down the uncomfortable material to rest on her shoulders. “It’s all gloomy and sort of like how it’s shown on E.R., but it’s not so bad.”
Stefan takes his time before his gaze shifts to hers. “Even with the midnight train ride home?”
“Even after that stupid movie,” she raises her eyebrows. “Chicago is ... I’m glad this is the first place I’ve seen outside of Mystic Falls.” Her attention is pulled to the window, watching as they pass the city lights that look like stars. “The company isn’t so bad, either,” she says, looking at his reflection before she summons the courage to smile shyly at him.
Stefan’s hand wraps around her shoulder as he pulls her into him.
*
“I used to be so mad at you,” she says as they walk along the grass of the park. “You left when I needed you.”
“I’m sorry Caroline,” Stefan looks down. Hands clasped together, she knows he’s about to go into one of his Stefan expositions that’s bound to make her feel guilty for even digging up the feeling she likes to deny she ever had. Hatred towards him. For such a likable guy, her resentment for him burned almost as brightly as a star.
“I know why you did it,” she interrupts before he can even begin. She looks at him then, seeing his face look inquisitive, curious to know whether or not the pieces of the puzzle she’s collected belong to the appropriate story. “I’d have done the same if it was Elena. If she was ... If things were bad like that.”
Stefan stops. It takes Caroline a few steps to realise he’s merely a shadow behind her when she mirrors him, stopping in front of him. “I didn’t mean to break my promise.”
“You haven’t,” she shrugs. “You just can’t break it in the future.” She looks at him hard, then, expecting him to know she’s filled to the brim with expectations. She’s had everyone she can count on one hand leave her at some point; seeing the backs of people isn’t the most attractive sight according to her.
She begins walking again; he follows, falling into step beside her. “Besides,” she almost bounces on the balls of her feet, pressing her weight into the tips of her toes as she lifts herself up briefly, “Buffy taught me how to break your nose and make it hurt.”
*
Caroline crawls along the covers of his bed. He places his book down on his lap as he watches her fluff his pillows, shifting them around to suit her liking rather than his. Fiddling with the sheets she’s lying upon, she doesn’t look at him when she murmurs, “Do you think we’re going to have to stay here forever?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head.
Caroline nods, accepting the answer. It takes her a few moments before she looks at him, her eyes sharp, filled with a determination he hasn’t seen since he first met her, “I want to graduate.”
“Then lets graduate.”