This is for all of my Daroline lovers. You've been asking for romance, I give you romance.
Something I have had on my mind ever since I saw the movie 'Dear John' a few weeks ago. This basically tells the story of how Damon and Caroline keep bumping into each other throughout the years. I wish I had made it longer but I just meant to underline the evolution their relationship could have.
Please do review like there's no tomorrow.
Love you all,
- M. -
I'll See You Soon, Then.
Caroline Forbes might be a drama queen, but this is way too much for her. Call her a chicken if you want to, but she clearly isn't shaped to endure all these life and death situations. She promises herself to leave Mystic Falls as soon as they get Stefan back. Maybe it's because everyone around her is aging and she's not, but it sinks in that she will stay young and beautiful forever. While others have to make decisions and have regrets, she can fulfill all of her dreams. At least, becoming a vampire is that useful. She can do anything, be anyone, live anywhere.
After six months of watching everything falling apart, Caroline decides that it's time to move on. Yes, every hint they have had on Stefan was a dead end. Yes, Jeremy is seeing ghosts or spirits or whatever they are. Yes, Bonnie is standing on the edge of something bigger than her, with the power of those dead witches. Yes, Elena is so broken that she can't begin to be fixed. But what can she do about it? Is she still needed here?
It's around midnight when she decides that he is the person she needs to talk to. He will tell her the truth, and not just what she needs to hear. He doesn't care, and that's why he is the one she must talk to. When she knocks on the door of the Salvatore house, he gets it in a second, just a little too eager for a visit. Of course, he would be expecting Elena. Caroline pretends that she doesn't see him roll his eyes when he understands that, once again, he has been setting his hopes too high.
"What do you want, Blondie?"
"Hey, Damon. Can I come in?" she asks shyly.
"Will you leave if I say no?" he sighs, gesturing his arm to invite her in.
She nervously chews on her lower lip, trying to think of a way to put this nicely and not sound like a deserter. In the meantime, Damon does what he always does: he pretends that she is not here and gets back to his bottle of alcohol. Although it's not bourbon, this time. It's brandy. Not good at all, she thinks. Somehow, she knows that when he drinks something else that the amber liquor, it's bad news.
"Is everything okay, Damon?" she says.
"Couldn't be better," he just says and he downs his drink in one go. "Care to join me?"
"No, thanks. I … I'd like your opinion on something."
Damon snorts; this has been happening a lot, lately. People who used to tell him he could not be trusted, showing up on his doorstep, asking for guidance. Worse, him giving them guidance. The power of the light at the end of the tunnel is seriously underestimated. The Damon Salvatore who pretended he didn't feel emotions died when this goddamned werewolf bite almost killed him.
"How can I help you?" he asks politely.
"I want to go," she says bluntly and when he raises an eyebrow, she adds "Leave Mystic Falls, for good."
"I repeat, how can I help you?"
"Well. I was hoping you could tell me if I should or not?"
"The world is a big place, Blondie. So much to do. So much to see. You should definitely go. I've been thinking about it myself."
"You? Where would you go?"
"I won't have you following me around," he says with the hint of a smile. Although he regrets it immediately; misery, after all, loves company.
"But what would you do?" she insists, because she can't see him anywhere else than here.
"You should visit Paris and Milan, you'll love the fashion," he throws in as if she didn't just ask him a question. He doesn't know what he would do, and that's why he is still here – he doesn't want to tell her that.
Caroline smiles; he is sipping his drink with the greatest nonchalance, like this is the most normal conversation to have in such dark and difficult times. He does not even bother to give her reasons to stay. She doesn't mind – it only makes her realize that she doesn't have any. They remain in a companionable silence for a long while, trying to picture themselves out of Mystic Falls. While Caroline sees an ocean of possibilities, Damon's mind goes blank.
"When are you leaving?" he asks, like this is already a done deal.
"I'd rather not have time for second thoughts."
"Hmm. 'Kay then. Bye," he mumbles.
Seriously, he is the reason why this is happening in the first place; isn't it his blood in her system that makes her what she is? They have never been close, but she can't believe that those are the last words he will say to her. They are so ordinary. The things they have been through are anything but ordinary; she just feels like she deserves better.
"Really, Damon? Is that the best you can do?" she says, her voice just a little more pleading than she wants.
When he laughs heartedly, she frowns. This is quite an unusual sound to hear from him. Damon strides towards her and gives her an unexpected hug. His tall figure embraces hers completely, and for a second, she feels like a doll in his arms: small, fragile. She nestles her head in the hollow of his shoulder and welcomes the gesture. She can't help the funny expression on her face when he kisses her forehead gently. Okay, that is the best he can do before she completely freaks out.
"Is that good enough for you?"
"Twill do," she mumbles while striding to the door. She never thought it'd bother her to leave him, of all people. "Goodbye, Damon."
Damon's jaw clenches as he hears the tears in her voice. As she walks away, he tries to picture what Mystic Falls will be like without Vampire Barbie around. Awkward, that's the only word that comes to his mind.
"Caroline?"
"Yes?" she answers, her blonde curls bouncing over her shoulder as she turns around to look at him for the last time.
"I'll see you soon, then?" he says with the hint of a smile and it's not an actual question.
"I'll see you soon, then."
Caroline has been gone for almost three years, and he is still the same old Damon. Not much has changed. They are still looking for Stefan and it is pretty much everything he does. Elena is going to college and he is completely alone. The hours, the days, the months stretch to infinity while he wanders the streets of Mystic Falls by himself. The meaning of fun has made itself unknown to him: how fun is it to look for a lost brother? How fun is it to watch, helpless, as the girl you love gradually grows apart from you? She is where she belongs: in college, building a future for herself. Growing old, going on dates with jocks and writers wannabes.
He is tired of this. What has become of the witty, sarcastic Damon? He is just the shadow of who he used to be. The only person he has frequent conversations with is Alaric, when he gets some time off being a teacher and a substitute father for Jeremy. He'd like to help in that department, but who is he to give advice on parenthood when he could not even be a decent brother? Not even women distract him anymore – he has not been on a date for ages. He really doesn't want to do that to himself. He always goes for the same type of brunettes with brown eyes who have something candid in their smile. Reaching such a high level of ridicule hurts his pride. He used to be such a lady killer: how did that happen? Okay, he knows how, but why? Okay, he knows why.
He wants to be enthusiastic about something. He can't remember what the adrenaline rushing through his veins feels like and he wants that back.
So when he finally accepts that he is not likely to find Stefan anytime soon and that he will never get a chance with Elena, he decides that it's time to take his own advice and leave. It takes him less that fifteen minutes to pack everything he needs and then, when he is ready, he dials Elena's number on his phone.
"What the hell, Damon?" her sleepy voice grunts. "It's the middle of the night and..."
"Where is Caroline?" he asks, abruptly.
The reason why he wants to find her is really a mystery. He needs to find her. Just because. Once he has the info he wanted, he wonders what he is going to with his car, while he's away. He can't take it to Paris. He sighs. Caroline manages to get on his nerves even when she is not here.
Honestly, he didn't think she could make it on her own, especially not in Paris. He always thought she would go around the States for a month or two and come back swearing that life outside of Mystic Falls was not worth living. Caroline always seemed to be dependent on her friends, her mother and the constant attention she was drawing. He is a little bit jealous, if he must tell the truth. Why can't he do the same?
Paris, the city of Love. He has been there countless times but it still amazes him. How the remnants of history and the touches of modernity come to a perfect balance works its magic on him every time. Yes, he should have come here a lot sooner; because that's what he needs, magic.
He watches her from a distance for a few days. She is going to college, and from what he understands, she's about to graduate in History. That comes as a surprise – he never thought she'd be interested in something like that, let alone be good enough to graduate. She has new friends and she's dating someone that resembles Donovan so much that it's beyond ridiculous.
It seems like she has found her place in the world and he is glad.
One day, when she gets home from her evening classes, hand in hand with her petit ami, she finds a bouquet of roses on the doorstep of her apartment.
I've been watching you, sweet Caroline. Coffee tomorrow? – Damon.
Caroline is both upset and relieved. She had been feeling observed and she couldn't understand why – that must have been Damon. She wonders how he found her. And then, it sinks in that Damon Salvatore is here in Paris and that he didn't even bother to say hello in person. She shakes her head at his immature behavior. Yeah, she'll see him soon enough.
The next day, she doesn't bother calling Elena to get Damon's new number – if he has been following her around, he knows where to meet her: in the fancy neighborhood of Saint Germain des Prés. She's been waiting for him for thirty minutes now and she's getting annoyed.
"Excusez mon retard, mademoiselle," he whispers behind her back, addressing her in a perfect French accent.
"Whatever, you stalker," she says with a bright smile, as she throws her arms around his neck.
Damon is taken aback – when did she get so friendly? That must be the French sense of hospitality. She plants a kiss on each of his cheeks and leads him to the nearest café. It is a warm and sunny day and they start talking about what she has been doing for three years and how things are, back in Mystic Falls. They talk and they talk and they talk and then, the waitress politely requests that they leave, because it's past midnight and the venue is closing. Damon takes Caroline to his hotel and they talk and they talk and they talk until the morning light. She notices how all he can talk about is Elena, Elena, Elena. He notices how she never mentions anything related to Mystic Falls.
When it's time for her to get to class, Caroline curses him – she never attends school wearing the same outfit two days in a row.
"You haven't changed that much, have you? Still obsessing over the way you look."
"Screw you, Damon."
"Bah, don't worry, you look amazing. Like you always do," he says and he winks at her.
They grab some coffee on the way to her university and she really hates it when she needs to leave him. It's the first time they act like friends.
"I'll see you soon, then?" she asks with a playful smile.
"I'll see you soon, then."
She is thirty, now.
She has spent almost ten years between her apartment in Paris and the one she has in Milan. Damon was right, she did fall in love with the fashion there and one of her dreams was always to be a designer. She knew she'd have to compel her way into this, so she flashed smiles and charming looks to meet the person in charge of interns in this new clothing company. Nothing haute couture; she will never set a foot near a Fashion Week defile but she will be given a chance to do something. She's not inventing anything, though: she wants to mix her visions of France and Italy, use summer colors in the winter collection, mix textures and shapes. Nothing new, except that she is doing this for a man casual wear collection.
Of course, she is absolutely incapable of drawing anything, so she's compelling/dating some guy who does the sketches for her whenever she's asked to do something more than just give a vague idea and bring coffee to the real people. This industry is everything she thought it would be: skinny girls obsessing over losing weight, bitchy comments at lunch break, classes to learn how to walk in heels and endless wars within the creative team to determine whose ideas will be submitted to the AD's approval. It's everything Caroline could have become if she had not been turned into a vampire. Sometimes, she looks at these people with great tenderness and shakes her head at how insignificant their concerns are.
She's been hired only six months ago, but today is a crucial day. She's premiering her first line – it will also be the last one, because this is not nearly as much fun as she thought it would be. And she needs something fun to do. She's contemplating signing up for one of those reality TV shows, like American Idol or something. She always wanted to become a singer and she's been told she has not a completely unpleasant voice. However, this is absolutely out of the question: she can't have the whole world watching her every move – if she has learnt one thing, it's that she'd better not draw attention if she wants to live a happy eternity. She's still quite upset about how easy it was for Damon to find her a few years ago.
There is an incessant stream of people coming to show her how the models look, asking if the makeup is right, if they should turn the volume of the music up or down. She really enjoys being in control of every single detail; she has spent the last month and a half getting ready for this and, as she looks around, she feels quite satisfied with what she sees. Even though it's the middle of the winter, everything around is an invitation to remember the warm and sunny days; the colors are bright and the music just makes you want to dance. She has picked her models very carefully: a blonde, a brown-haired guy, a tall one, a short one, an Asian, a dark-skinned athlete wannabe… This is the image of diversity.
Her cellphone rings, snapping her back. She has personalized the tone, so she knows it's Elena. The pep talk is very much welcomed and everyone is there, too: Bonnie, Matt, Tyler. It doesn't really matter if she fails or not – if she does, she can just compel them all and start over. What they don't know is that, except for the job interview and the sketches, she chose to do this "human style" so she's kinda freaking out a bit. One of the models is missing, and one needs a different hairstyle and damn it, some other is not picking up his phone. Her friends laugh at her nervousness; she can be all the vampire she wants, she is still the same Caroline Forbes who can't stand imperfections.
"Oh, Elena, have you heard from Damon, lately?" she asks distractedly as she checks a guy's shirt.
"Nope, she hasn't," a voice answers behind her.
She says goodbye to Elena and turns around. She jumps a little when she lays eyes on a terribly handsome Damon Salvatore, all smirk and hypnotic blue eyes. She is always surprised to see how much he doesn't change at all; he even seems to get more and more attractive. He looks like a model, seriously. Wait…is he a model?
"Stalker," she says.
"Hello to you, too, beautiful."
"What's with the clothes?"
"Would you rather I take them off? That can easily be done," he says with his usual teasing tone.
"Don't have time for your games today, Damon," she snaps while she gets the last makeup touches on the model's face. "What have you done to the guy who's supposed to be here in these clothes?"
"Compelled him into quitting this morning. Happens that my resume was at the top of the agency's list."
Caroline sighs. She can't tell if he is doing this just for fun or if he is deliberately ruining her day, but she'd be a filthy hypocrite to yell at him for compelling his way into this.
"Do you have hobbies in life, other than making me miserable?" she whines. "This is a big day for me and I can't have you around."
Damon shrugs and unbuttons his shirt for makeup. He likes that she didn't ask how he is doing since he has been nicely asked to step aside from Elena's life now that Saint Stefan is back. He is actually here to tell her that the lovebirds are throwing a huge "Welcome back" party to which her presence is requested. But then, he bumped into this guy and saw an opportunity to have fun. Something he cruelly needed.
"I'll do it," he says confidently.
"Go away? Oh, thank you, Damon, I promise to let you…"
"No, I'll do the show. Models just have to smile and look pretty. I've been doing a hundred and seventy something years of that."
"I don't doubt that," she mumbles as she storms around him to fix his sleeves, his belt, and his hair. "Models always shut the hell up," she teases. "Can you do that?"
"Wow, that was never part of the deal!"
"That's because there never was a deal in the first place, Salvatore."
Damon can't help a smile. When she starts using his last name, it means that he has won; she's giving in but she doesn't want to admit it just yet.
"I promise I'll behave," he says very seriously. "It will be fun."
And it is fun. During the whole show, he stays with her backstage and as she is too afraid to look into the room to see people's reactions, he tells her everything he sees, everything he hears. The comments are pretty flattering, so far. Nothing transcendental, but nothing awful either. She has done well. Her clothes are elegant and modern, the bright colors are not too much – she took a chance and it worked.
Damon is the last model to go on stage and she almost wants to kill him when he unbuttons his shirt in front of everyone. Women cheer, of course and he takes a bow when he is not supposed to, but she is laughing. Because she sees how everything has gone perfectly well, how she has accomplished something – even if it's not what you could call life changing. And he is there to share it with her.
As the crowd of journalists and fashionistas is clapping at her work, Damon comes and drags her out of her hiding spot. "They are cheering for you, come take a bow" he says but he is stronger than her and she doesn't really have a choice; getting in a fight with him right now would be rather silly. So she walks on that stage, looking fabulous, with his hand lying on her back. Everyone is standing and she hears hurrays and bravos and she sees cameras taking hundreds of pictures and her models are happy and she's happy and she looks at Damon and he's grinning at her… This moment is perfect.
She invites him to have drinks at her place when everything has been cleaned. He declines and takes her to eat dinner inside the Eiffel Tower – something she has never done before. They catch up on each other's life: while she was busy making a career as a fashion designer, he has been all around Europe and back to Mystic Falls. Nothing significant has happened to him; he has dated a few girls, both humans and vampires; he has made an awful lot of money at the casino in Monte Carlo; he has attended the coronation of William after the death of his grandmother; he has improved his cooking skills in Spain. Not much.
"Oh, and, when I came back home two months ago, I found my long lost brother on the doorstep."
"Yeah, Elena told me that. How is he?"
"You tell me. I took off before I could find out. Can't stand the whole love-dove thing."
"Elena says he's struggling a bit."
Damon nods but doesn't answer. She doesn't want to push it so she starts talking about the fashion show again; and he wants to know what she is going to do next. She's planning to go to Africa. She has always wanted to help people and now that she can make a difference, she feels like it's her duty to do so.
"Seriously? Of all places? You can go anywhere and do anything, and you're going to help children in Africa? My respects, Saint Caroline."
"Shut up," she laughs.
It's the first time they have fun together.
The evening goes by like this, between serious and less serious matters of conversation. Caroline never thought she'd see the day when she and Damon would be talking like that, as …friends. It feels good. She is just a little sad when the dinner's over and she has to go home, to her so very lonely home. He walks her there and leans in to kiss her cheek softly. She closes her eyes for one second when his lips linger just a little.
"When are you leaving for Africa?" he whispers.
"Don't know yet. Why, wanna come?"
"Not quite. You are wanted in Mystic Falls. The lovebirds are having a welcome back party. So…I guess I'll see you soon, then?"
She smiles at the phrase.
"I'll see you soon, then."
She is still thirty.
Going back to Mystic Falls is something she has never really considered for obvious reasons. What would everyone think, seeing that she's been gone for thirteen years and hasn't aged a bit. That, and the fact that she doesn't feel like she belongs here anymore.
When she first left town, she promised her friends that she would keep in touch with them. They were living in the twenty-first century, after all. Since when did distance mean the end of relationships? And she did. She didn't know where to go first, so she visited South America. She sent postcards and called home all the time. It was like enjoying really amazing holidays, except she was on her own. At that point, she hadn't decided yet if she would go back to Mystic Falls eventually.
But they gradually started to grow apart, as Caroline realized that she had no business in Mystic Falls anymore. After she toured South America, she remembered Damon's advice to visit Paris and Milan. She could picture herself having a croissant on the Champs-Elysées and flying to Milan to have an osso buco for dinner. Yes, that was a start. Neither Elena nor Bonnie tried to talk her out of moving to Europe. It was almost like they were relieved that they wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. They didn't mean any harm, but they still had Stefan to find and she could understand that he was their number one priority. As for Matt and Tyler, just a few months after she took off, she heard that they were close again – she was nothing but a girl standing in the way of their friendship. Caroline wasn't even angry with them for leaving her behind. They didn't have time to miss her, they had lives to live. On the other hand, she would have all the time in the world to cry over the future she would never have with Matt, or with Tyler, or with whoever.
However, Caroline felt like it was her duty to be there and celebrate Stefan's return with them. Stefan was the first person who made her feel comfortable with what she was. He was the first to tell her that she didn't have to be a monster if she didn't want to. She owes him, big time. So, she came.
But she regrets it now.
When she gets home from Elena's that night, her mother is already asleep and she enjoys the sound of her steady breath from upstairs. This is something that she cruelly misses, the sound of someone's peaceful breath, in the middle of the night. She wants to cry at what a disaster this day is. How is it possible that she didn't have two words to say to Elena and was feeling so uneasy around Bonnie? Matt was there with his girlfriend, and even if it's been seven years, it still hurts. What hurts the most is seeing how easily everyone has moved on with their lives and she hasn't.
"A penny for your thoughts," a voice whispers outside and she knows it's him.
She dries her eyes and gets the door. He is standing there with a wary smile on his face, his arms folded against his chest. It has not occurred to her in years, but, damn, the man is close to perfection. Caroline lets her eyes caress his handsome features, starting from his cerulean eyes to his lips. Images from when they used to date flash through her mind. At least, he made her feel important, back then. She'd give anything to feel like that again – like she matters. She wonders what he is doing here, but then again, misery loves company.
She blinks quickly, regaining composure.
"Damon, I - " she starts.
"I know. Let me…"
He doesn't say "make it better", but that's exactly what he came to do. He has been watching her all day, pretending to be thrilled about the stories her so-called friends told her, trying her best to not shiver when that Donovan guy hugged her goodbye, and trying her best to not snap his girlfriend's neck. He knew she'd get out of this completely broken and very aware of her loneliness – the same happened to him years ago. It was then that he realized that being a vampire meant being alone. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't want her to be alone, so here he is, standing on her doorstep with a soft smile on his face.
The Caroline he used to know would have cried her eyes out and moaned about this stupid party for hours, but now, she has become just a little more like him, keeping her feelings concealed from most eyes. Damon has always been able to read her like a book. Not because she's shallow, but because he knows her, more than he cares to admit. She needs to feel loved and appreciated and missed. Being the lady killer that he is, he can make her feel like that – he can look at her like she means the world to him and kiss her like he has spent his whole life hungry for her. She needs him. That's what he came here for – to feel needed, because neither Stefan nor Elena seems to know that he even exists anymore.
He reaches out and brushes his hand against her cheek. In the light of the moon, she looks so childish with her makeup off and her watery eyes. Damon has never been at ease with people crying – he doesn't know how to comfort them. So when the tears start rolling on her rosy cheeks, he does the only thing that he knows how to do. He makes her lean in and gently kisses her lips. It hurts her pride, but she doesn't push him away. She can't remember the last time she was kissed like this; gently, slowly, intensely. His lips are light as a feather on hers, but soon enough, she's shaking from head to toe, feeling slightly intoxicated with him at the moment.
"Come in," she says, her voice unexpectedly hoarse.
"Why?" he says, just a little too loud.
"You know why."
He doesn't budge. It is not so much about being intimate with her. It's more about what this will mean – because it will mean something. It's about whether she can give him what he wants, like he can give her what she wants. He makes his choice of words very carefully.
"It is important that you tell me," he says. "Why?"
Caroline understands; two can play that game.
"I need you to."
He doesn't want her and she doesn't want him either, but clothes are thrown off on the way to her bedroom. When he looks into her eyes, he fools himself into thinking they are brown. When she pushed him onto her bed, she does it gently because she fools herself into thinking he's nothing more than human.
It's the first time they pretend.
When Caroline wakes up a few hours later, she knows that he will be gone. However, she finds a note on his pillow.
I'll see you soon, then.
Caroline understands what he means but didn't write, and she smiles. It is nice to know that he will be around to make it better when she needs him to.
"I'll see you soon, then, you coward," she laughs.
She is thirty-three.
And because she is thirty-three, it's the third time she has to do her makeup all over again. A plane is not really the ideal place for that. No matter how hard she tries, the steam of tears doesn't want to stop. But she must get it right. Her years as a makeup artist in London have taught her how to recreate the signs of age.
Damn that stupid undead body, she'd kill to rip off her lacrimal glands. The pain is just too much; it stabs her in the back and burns a hole in her chest and makes her vision blurry. Yes, she knew this day would come eventually, but not so soon.
She was never going to be ready, anyway.
It's Elena. She's dead.
Damon's words have echoed in her head for the whole duration of her flight from Florida. He called two days ago and she has not stopped crying ever since. All day long, at the airport, it was a real pain in the ass to get words out between hiccups and sobs. "I n-n-n-n-eeed a ti-ti-ckeeet for Mystiic F-f-faaalls pleaaaase." It is not fair. Elena is – was – only thirty-three. Caroline is so angry at fate, at God, at whoever makes the stupid decision to take away people from their loved ones. Elena had books to write, she had smiles to give and children to bear. It doesn't make any sense. This girl was the doppelganger, the key to breaking a centuries-old curse. She was the center of a vampire love triangle between two brothers. She was an orphan. And she survived all that. How the fuck does one survive all that and die in a stupid car accident?
Caroline has never felt so guilty ever before. If she had been in Mystic Falls, instead of sunbathing in Miami, she would have saved her. Maybe she would have been in that car with the human and she would have given her blood; she would have turned her if she had to. She would have saved her. Yes, if she had been just a little less selfish and a little braver, Elena would be alive.
When the plane lands, she has finally stopped crying. She is that close to turning off her emotions when she sees him, waiting for her in the arrival hall. The elegant figure, the blue eyes, the clenched jaw. How he knew when she was going is a complete mystery and she does not give a damn. He takes her bag and leads her to a car. The two hours of drive from Atlanta to Mystic Falls are completely silent.
When she wants to get out of the car once they are approaching the cemetery, he places a restricting hand on her arm and shakes his head. They can't decently show up there with their ever young features. At least, he has grown a beard and his hair is a little bit longer. People could believe that it's been three years since they last saw him. But she still looks like the sweet little Caroline they used to babysit, love, date. Most of the people standing in the graveyard are completely oblivious to the supernatural and even in their grief they would see how she has not aged at all. They can't have people staring at her when they are supposed to cry over Elena. Caroline's eyes are screaming that she wants to kill him for reminding her that she doesn't belong with them anymore, that she can't even mourn one of her best friends like everybody else does, but she nods and sits back.
They stay here, using their super sense of hearing to keep up with what's going on outside. In moments like this, their status of immortal beings is the most offensive thing in the world. Damon would give anything to trade his eternity for just a few more days for her. The absence of heartbeat from Elena's chest is the most deafening sound he has ever heard. He would rip his own heart out if it could bring her back. He would kill every single person he can see right now if it could bring her back long enough for him to say goodbye. Last time he talked to her, it was over the phone and they argued about something – he can't even remember what. The last words he said to her were "Go to Hell, Elena". He wants to take off his ring and burn because of that.
Yes, they will see everyone they love grow old and die on them, but they never thought Elena would be the first. She was the best of them and now she is gone. They didn't have time to say goodbye. They want time and they can't have it. They are immortal beings and they can't have the one thing they want the most. It hurts.
When the first flowers are thrown on Elena's sealed coffin, Caroline's sobs, tears and hiccups return. Damon's hand leaves the gearbox of the car and finds Caroline's. It takes her less than three seconds to break down completely. It takes him less than one.
It's the first time they cry together.
They leave after everyone else. When they are positive that people are gone, they get out of the car, holding on to each other and shaking from head to toe. They walk to Elena's grave and stare at it for a long, long while. Their eyes are swollen and red and they can't breathe properly and they are in an unbearable pain but they say their goodbyes to her. They survive this just because they are together.
He drives her back to Atlanta, back to the airport, back to her loneliness.
"I'll see you soon, then?" she asks and gives him a quick hug.
"I'll see you soon, then," he whispers.
She is about to turn forty, now.
Just thinking about it makes her feel ugly and damn ancient. When she looks at herself in the mirror, she thinks she sees grey hair even though it is absolutely impossible.
Since Elena died, she has not set a foot in Mystic Falls. She has her mother fly over to wherever she is for Christmas and birthdays but that's all. She is unoccupied at the moment because she has done everything she could think of, for now. In twenty years, she has been a grad student, a makeup artist, a designer. Then she sang in a band for a while and wrote a couple of papers for a local newspaper in Australia. She has lived in France, Italy, South Africa, and Egypt. There are a lot of places she still wants to see. For example, she has never been to Vegas. She would like to see what it's like to spend seven years in Tibet.
But for now, she wants to forget about the world. She has just heard from her mother than Matt is getting married – for the second time. She just wants to dance until she dies. Figuratively, of course. And for that, she cannot think of a better place than Ibiza. So she flies from her current location – Lisbon, Portugal – to the small island. She has always heard the wonderful stories of people who went there and she remembers adding this to her 'To Do List'. Well, what the hell. She picks the most expensive club in town and spends three hours in the bathroom getting ready. When she's done, she feels like a model. Her red dress hugs her body in all the right places and the curling of her hair is absolutely perfect. She chooses to wear a smoky eye makeup to highlight her blue eyes.
She effortlessly finds a bunch of boys and girls to spend the night with her. She quickly gets bored of their childish conversations. She is forty, and she has to behave like a seventeen-year-old to fit in. She doesn't know how much of this she can take. She has been considering turning someone, just to keep her company. She vaguely remembers stories about Damon turning Vicky Donovan out of boredom and she can connect to that. She has crossed paths with a few vampires along the way, but none of them was really that great.
But tonight, she simply refuses to think. When she gets really sick of discussing college applications, she suggests they hit the dance floor. She immediately feels better when the music is so loud that she can't hear herself think, even with her vampire hearing. She has not been in a night club for years but she finds her way between all of these bodies. The song is not exactly new – it's actually twenty years old - but that will do, for a start. She walks to the dance floor and internally smiles at how a few guys look at her with a certain hunger. She chooses to ignore that she is old enough to be their mother and that, wherever she looks, the only face she sees is Matt's. Closing her eyes for a second, she focuses on the song.
Grab somebody sexy…
She feels two masculine hands on her waist. The man behind her moves swiftly along the rhythm and he finds just the right distance to put between her body and his to create enough friction. She doesn't really care who he is – she likes that he acts like a man. He is not hesitant, nor too straightforward. Too bad he will be too young, she thinks.
Tell'em 'Hey, give me everything tonight.'
The words are whispered in her ear and her smile widens. What the hell is he doing here? She doesn't care, really because she should have known that he is what she needs right now. She needs him to make it better, the way he usually does.
Tonight, I want all of you tonight. Give me everything tonight, for all we know, we might not get tomorrow.
Sexiness aside, she laughs at him knowing the words to the song. She always thought he listened to ancient songs from the twenties or something. She turns to face him and she devilishly grins at him when he eyes her conspicuously.
Let's do it tonight.
Damon's smile widens and their lips meet for the first time in ten years. Their bodies respond to each other and soon enough, they are leaving the club to take the party somewhere more private. Caroline has not been a saint for the past 23 years but seriously, no one can do it like he can and she enjoys every single second they spend together. Maybe it's because she doesn't have to be careful when she grabs his hair, or because his skin, just like her is extremely sensitive to the slightest touch. Maybe it's because he is not a teenager so she can let him be in total control. Yeah, so what if her fangs start protruding because he knows just what to say and she's getting overwhelmed? It's nothing he hasn't seen before.
Damon has come to find her for a very strange reason - he was missing her. So when he smiles against her skin, it's not just because she's looking exceptionally pretty tonight or because he knows he's on for a bumpy night. It's because he is happy to see her.
It's the first time they make love instead of just having sex.
When the sun rises, Caroline shakes her head – he's gone. He has used her most expensive red lipstick to paint the familiar words on the mirror in the bathroom. This time, she grabs her phone and texts him. I'll see you soon then.
She is about to celebrate her hundred and fiftieth birthday and even for a vampire, that's saying something.
She has done so many things that she is getting seriously bored. She has been a teacher in Brazil, she had been a model in Canada, and she has been a publisher in Madrid, among other things. She has studied History, Literature, Psychology and Journalism. She is fluent in more than seven languages. She owns houses all around the world and money is not even a problem for her anymore. She has found out that she can't stay in the same place for more than five years – people start asking questions after that.
She has been married, once. His name was William and he was an architect. He has been dead for fifty years, now. He gave her everything she could have dreamed of – something real. She told him what she was and even if he did run in the beginning, he came back. The story came to an end when he realized that he wanted children more than anything. Caroline had to let him go, and erase the fact that he had been husband to a vampire from his memory – which meant the relationship had to come to an abrupt end.
Everyone is dead, except for Stefan and Damon, but she hasn't heard from him in ages. She has given up on so many things – she is quite upset with him for leaving her alone in this. She remembers every time he popped into her life, completely unexpected. He had become some kind of refuge for her, whenever she felt overwhelmed by the weight of time, of her lost humanity. Of anything, really. She remembers how they spent the night talking in Paris, how he modeled for her there, how they cried over Elena's grave, how they danced in Ibiza. She also remembers the emails they used to send each other. If she thinks about it, Caroline wouldn't know how to introduce Damon to people. He is everything at once: a big brother, a friend, a lover. He is Damon, and whatever the Hell that means, she misses him more than ever on this Christmas Eve.
She is back in France just for the holidays – at the moment she is working with young children, so it means she gets weekends and holidays like them. She has rented a chalet in the Alps and she's glad she can't be cold anymore, otherwise she'd be frozen from head to toe. She has lit a fire and cooked herself a decent Christmas meal. She can hear the neighbors and their families exchanging gifts. It doesn't even hurt anymore – it just annoys her. Someone knocks on the door, pulling her out of her gloomy reverie. She almost wants to scream when it's Damon, standing there with his usual self-satisfied smirk. He is standing there, handsome as ever, with a bottle of champagne and a seductive smile. She rolls her eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Blon…What happened to your hair, ex-Blondie?"
Oh, yes, she is a brunette, now. Her hair is the only thing she can actually change about the way she looks, so every ten years, she changes colors. Just three days before, she was a red-haired. Surely he would have liked that.
"What happened to your regular visits?" she snaps at him.
"I thought you'd be happier to see me after all this time," he says, pretending to be offended. "So, your hair?"
"Brown makes me look a little older."
"I liked you better when you were a blonde. You were much more fun."
"Are you going to come in or do I have to beg you?"
"I'd like that very much," he teases.
"Screw you, Salvatore," she says and she is smiling before she can help it.
She lets him in and they curl up on the floor before the fireplace together. It's been twenty years since she last saw him, so that makes a lot of things to talk about. It is as though they have never been apart. She still fits perfectly into his arms and her voice still annoys him deeply when she starts talking about men. Damon feels like he should have found her sooner, but he could have used someone to talk to. It's all they do, talk.
It's the first time they sleep together without having sex or making love. Caroline doesn't want to fall asleep, because she just knows he will be gone in the morning and she doesn't want to be alone again. In the middle of the night, she opens her eyes and wraps her arms around his sleeping body.
"Not going anywhere, Caroline" he whispers playfully. "You can let go."
"What happened to your usual 'I'll see you soon, then' thing?" she asks, confused so as to what his intentions are.
"Gone with the wind, if that's okay."
"More than."