He first feels that it's a bad idea but he's already out of the house, keys in hand. Then he thinks that it's a bad idea but he's already too far to go back, wind playing with his hair. By the time he's standing on her doorstep, Damon knows that it's a bad idea, each second he thinks about it making it all the more obvious. But he shakes his head and knocks anyway.

"Damon?" Caroline's eyes widen as she pulls the door completely open, registering that he is, in fact, standing right in front of her, all grey eyed and leather jacketed. She doesn't mask her surprise, she didn't even sense him coming. And he takes her in; hair in a bun, finishing the last of her kiwi slice. Taking him in right back, Caroline doesn't bother feel uncomfortable around Damon, not after all they've been through. But she raises an eyebrow under his curious glare.

"Good morning, blondie," he adds the last word with a half smile which she promptly rolls her eyes at. Caroline steps back so that he can come in but Damon shakes his head and steps further from her doorway, motioning for her to close it behind her. Her eyebrows furrow but Caroline steps out of her house and shuts the door. He looks at her again, until she is finally put off by the silence.

"What do you want, Damon?" Caroline asks him. She isn't annoyed, just curious as to why he, of all people, would ever want to make a visit to her humble abode at seven in the morning. And on a Sunday, too. It doesn't fail to cross her mind that he is Damon and he was out partying last night and would never leave the house unless it was of utmost importance, meaning he wants something from her. But her tone is not angry, merely confused. And, okay, a little irritated that he caught her with bed hair when every black lock on his head is perfectly pushed in place.

"I'm leaving," Damon looks back at his car, one suitcase laying across the backseat. She forgets to stare at his curls when he speaks. But Caroline is not surprised, her mouth twitching to the side as she processes it all.

"And that's all you're taking?" She finally manages to say, a sliver of snark in her tone. Damon rolls his eyes. "I didn't realise your whole wardrobe could be put into a single suitcase, Damon."

"Those are actually all the bottles of Scotch I stole from Stefan's stash," Damon deadpans and Caroline snorts. She knows that he's not lying, it's just so typical of him.

"Not like you wear anything but that beat up leather jacket anyway," Caroline motions to the very jacket covering his body. There is a silence between the two as Damon stares down at one of the sleeves. Then he shrugs it off and hands it to her. She looks at him, confused again and wondering why she hasn't been more rude yet.

"I want you to have it," Damon tells her before she can even ask why he's giving her his favourite jacket. Her eyes glaze over with a strange look but she stands still as he steps closer to put it over her bare shoulders. She shivers, suddenly feeling a chill.

"Why now?" Caroline asks. She doesn't ask why he is not staying. She voices out her curiosity as to why he has stayed so long.

"I think I'm done with Mystic Falls," Damon replies nonchalantly, putting a hand in his pocket. Then he looks straight into her eyes and makes sure she's looking back before he asks, "Aren't you?"

"No," she answers simply, looking up at him. Her gaze is neutral as she memorizes his every feature, knowing that it will be another lifetime until she sees this Salvatore. He looks different in just a black tshirt, younger. Caroline remembers that he's only nineteen, realising that this was the first time he has ever looked his age, filled with hope and completely unaware of what his future will hold. She feels a pang of jealousy and wonders if maybe she might be done with Mystic Falls, too.

With Tyler out of her life and her mother always at work, nothing is left to hold her back. Nothing except prom and graduation. It's not much, but still just enough to make her stay despite the fact that every fibre of her being is telling her to grab her ipod and get into the car with him. Caroline is staring at the empty passenger seat when she shakes her head, saying, "No, not just yet."

They stand in silence and her eyes meet his again. Memories run through her head and Damon bites the inside of his mouth to keep all his words from pouring out. He looks at her with a tortured expression and she returns his gaze, still lost in her thoughts. Because despite the fact that he treated her like crap and used her as a cheap blood bag, Caroline Forbes liked Damon Salvatore. And if he had let her, she could have loved him.

He takes another look back at his car, not completely uncomfortable but still very aware of the heavy air between the two. "I should-"

"Would you still have killed me back then? After knowing how I've turned out, I mean?" Caroline doesn't know why she asks him, but she's already blurted the words out. And she needs to know. He swallows, eyebrows furrowing and looking at her, really looking into the insecurities behind the blue of her eyes, begging him to tell the truth for once. He hears her heart beating faster, unsure of his answer, holding her breath and hands balling.

"Yes, but not because I hate you," Damon puts his hands on her shoulders so that she won't move away, so that she'll look straight into his eyes and know that for once, he's not lying to her. "I would have killed you because everyone dies and I'm sorry you even had to be this way. You don't deserve this life, Caroline. Even after everything I did to you, I never would have wanted you to turn out this way. Because of all those perky little prom queen barbies, out of everyone I know, you are the one person I wish could have turned eighteen, could have turned 20, 50, 75, and died. And I mean this in the nicest way possible: you deserve to die."

"Why did you give me your blood then?" Caroline whispers. He can smell the salt of her tears forming and she curses her vampire emotions for heightening everything. And she curses Damon for choosing this one time to apologize, choosing this time to be so very un-Damon. "Why did you give me your blood after my accident when I should have died?"

"Because I was selfish and I didn't want you to die," Damon answers, then he lets go of her shoulders and shrugs his own, a wry grin forming on his face. "Big mistake because now you can never die."

"Yeah," Caroline manages a small smile as she tries to push the tears back. She wants to suggest that he could always stake her, but now is not the moment to do so. She can't quite place what makes her feel this way, completely nostalgic and wanting to suddenly say she wants him back. Instead she says, "Now you're stuck with me."

"No, not just yet," he uses her words as he looks at her. He glances back at his car and swallows his plea for her to come with him. With a small, calming breath he looks at the blonde who earned her way into his heart, after months of tears and fights and literally trying to break each other.

Before he can even blink, she throws herself at him, burying her head in his chest as her arms wind around his frame. She sobs once and after a beat, he wraps himself around her, underneath his leather jacket and reaching inside her shirt to pull her closer. She smells like Caroline, back when she was alive, back when she belonged to him.

"I'll miss you, you big jerk," Caroline mumbles into him. He puts out a hand to push her chin up. They stare at each other once more and he can feel his own tears rising.

"You take care of yourself, blondie," he whispers and she nods, letting her arms fall by her sides. He presses a kiss to her forehead and she wipes at her eyes. Before her tears are dried, he's already starting his car. She doesn't look up until she knows it has pulled out of her block. And she stands still, perking her ears until she's sure he's already too far gone to hear her shaky breath.

Caroline slips back into her house, walking straight into her room and dropping down into bed, suddenly exhausted. Her eyes trail towards her closet, then the suitcase by her shoes. She could call him right now and he would come back for her. But she closes her eyes and shakes her head. She can still hear the lazy spin of his tires as he drives to the main road but stops herself from grabbing her phone. No, she would not leave. Not just yet.

He visits no one else, not even Alaric. Because she is the only person that would not have stopped him and convinced him to stay, she is the only person that will ever understand him. Unzipping the suitcase, Damon opens a new bottle and takes a swig. The Grill passes him and he sits in silence, thinking of the blonde girl he met years ago. Insecure under her confidence, brilliant under her foolishness. A memory of her laugh flashes in his head and he grips the steering wheel harder for a moment. Then with one last turn, he's out of the little town, looking towards the endless road.

Somehow, he knows that she'll soon follow.