Fandom. TylerCaroline
Disclaimer: Vampire Diaries © L.J. Smith
Pictures to Burn
By sakuracherish814
If there was one thing Caroline couldn't stand, it was a mess.
Dust, clutter, streaks—maybe it was a bit OCD of her, but being an organized, neat-freak was one of her many gifts (or flaws). And it was what prompted her to go on a mad cleaning spree. She had already helped clean the Bennett and Gilbert households from top to bottom, and hounded Stefan and Damon until they let her scrub the Boarding House spotless.
All that was left was the Lockwood mansion which, due to its mere size let alone the amount of stuff that must've been in it, would take the twelve of them the entire day to get through.
"Thanks again for organizing everything today, Caroline," Mrs. Lockwood said, carrying a large box as she passed.
Caroline smiled. "I'm just happy to be of help."
"I still can't believe how you got Jeremy and Tyler in on the whole thing," the older woman marveled. "I mean you, Elena, and Bonnie I wouldn't doubt. And even if Liz hadn't asked, I have a feeling Stefan, Damon, and their new friend Rose would've offered to help, too. But those boys—they're so lazy!"
They shared a laugh. "Well, they just need to be convinced," Caroline assured. The fact that Jeremy is completely whipped for Bonnie and Tyler bends to my will helps, too. "Did you want me to take that box off your hands?"
"Oh, please," Mrs. Lockwood breathed, handing the box off. "You're awfully strong."
Being a vampire has its perks. "It's probably because being with Tyler means that he drags me along when he works out, I guess. Um, what's in here, anyway?"
"A bunch of Tyler's sketches from the study. Some of them are months old, even from a few years ago, but I think some are more recent."
"Recent?" Caroline arched an eyebrow. "Tyler still draws?"
Mrs. Lockwood laughed. "Oh, yeah. Of course. He and Jeremy still sketch a little. Not very often, but I see them in there from time to time. I want Tyler to go through them."
"I'll make sure he gets them," Caroline assured. "I'll go put it up on his bed so he'll see it."
She smiled graciously. "You're an angel, Caroline. Thanks. Oh," she clicked her tongue, "I have to leave to get some more boxes and garbage bags. I know I can trust you to hold down the fort, right?"
Caroline beamed. "Yes, ma'am."
As she made it up to Tyler's room, she set the box down on his bed and sighed, looking down at them. From the looks of it, there seemed to be so many sketchbooks and drawings that the box was almost overstuffed. Even when she had been carrying it, she noticed how it had been significantly heavier then she had expected.
Biting her lower lip, she frowned. Well, it couldn't hurt to just look, right?
Even as she thought it, she wasn't sure. Tyler was a lot more open to everyone now, especially her, than he has ever been in his whole life, but this was still fairly personal.
But her curiosity soon took over as she found herself already slipping out one of the sketchbooks. Flipping it open, she saw the rough outlines of some sort of house and scenery. What? She checked the date in the corner beside his signature. It was well over two years ago.
She continued flipping through the pages, finding that they were all filled with landscapes, buildings, and scenery. Some of them looked more modern, some looked old fashioned, and some looked like places around Mystic Falls. Taking a second look, she realized they were places around Mystic Falls, but the way she vaguely remembered it from their childhood.
He remembers it way back then?
She set the sketchbook aside and pulled out another, flipping it open. The first picture was of a shaded moon, and absently she flinched. But as she checked the date, it was more than a year ago, way before any of the werewolf and vampire drama. Just a coincidence, then. As she flipped through, she saw more moons, strange medieval structures, and these random crests.
She found herself blinking in surprise. She pulled out another sketchbook of the same year and saw more drawings of a similar fashion.
Is this the same Tyler Lockwood? The Tyler of this time had been a total jock, pretty much an ass, and a spoiled bully.
And… apparently was a closet fantasy junkie?
She set the third sketchbook on top of the other two and pulled out another.
The first picture was of a witch. Well, sort of. Taking a closer look, she realized the witch looked young, like a teen. In fact, it looked less of a witch—the old lady kind, with boils and ugly skin and a hunch—and more of just a girl in a witch costume.
Flipping a few pages, it was the same witch, just different angles. Most of her face was artfully hidden by her hands or her hat. As she continued, the next few sketches had color: blood red lips, pale skin, and (at one point) a red cape that she draped over herself. Who the hell is this?
She checked the date. It was right after Halloween of last year. When she had worn that witch costume.
No. No, it's a coincidence.
But, as she flipped through a little more, she noticed that the witch's face was actually kind of familiar. And, as she reached the final page that had been drawn on, her mouth dropped.
It was her. A sketch of the witch—of her—in full color: her red lips, her purple dress, her black hat, her blonde hair, her pale skin. The red cape, which she remembered Tyler had worn that same Halloween, was draped over her shoulders. She even had a glass in her hand.
"What the hell?" she said aloud.
She set the sketchbook aside and pulled out the next. There was a big gap in the dates—at least five whole months from the previous one.
But the first thing she opened up to was another moon. Flipping through, she found more moon phases, more nighttime scenes, and then finally actual wolves. She checked the date. No doubt about it. The dates are consistent. It was right around the time Mason had rolled into town.
She kept flipping until her hand paused over a particularly disturbing picture: a menacing wolf towering over a girl, quite obviously about to bite. In the back of her mind, she remembered hearing that growl, remembered being knocked over by a wolf in the woods with Stefan there, remembered Tyler crying out, "NO!" She checked the date. He drew this picture the day after that awful night.
She flipped a few more pages and then gasped slightly as she stared back at herself. Well, a drawing of herself, in her red dress and masquerade mask from that party. There was even one of her and Sarah smiling, as if taking a picture that they would never be able to, but there were blurred splotches at the bottom, and he never finished the shading.
She put this one aside and pulled out the next sketchbook, opening to the first page.
She nearly dropped the book.
It was her.
Flipping a bit more, every single sketch was of her, some in color, some not. Some depicted her with a wolf. Some were of her against the moonlight. One was of her face, with her bloodshot red eyes and protruding fangs and pronounced veins. There was one of her with Elena, of her with Bonnie, of all of them. One had her in a Gothic dress, a period one, that same witch costume. All of her.
"Care? I was wondering where you disappeared to. I—"
She whipped her head around to find Tyler standing there, paused in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the sketchbooks on his bed.
"What are you—"
"Tyler!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "Why didn't you ever tell me that you still drew? I had to find out because your mom was carrying this box out and she wanted you to—"
"Whoa, whoa, wait," he interrupted, walking towards her and plucking the sketchbook from her hand, "You're the one sneaking through my stuff and I get yelled at?"
She groaned. "Sorry, but—why didn't you ever show me any of them?"
"They were kind of private," he said, placing his arms at her waist, "but apparently that's no longer the case."
She blew out a breath. "You didn't want to share them with me? Tyler, they're beautiful. I mean, I'll admit, it's a little strange there were so many of me, but they were fascinating to look at."
"I drew them at some pretty dark points in my life, Care. Some twisted memories. With everything going on recently, the last thing I would ever want to do is willingly relive them by myself, let alone drag you down into the depths of my fucked mind."
"Oh, Tyler."
She cradled his face, suddenly feeling emotional remembering how hard it had been too. But he had also kind of, but not really, admitted he loved his life right now: his life of being a werewolf, being surrounded by their supernatural and weird friends, of being with her. This was the first he'd ever come close to admitting it.
Running her fingers through his hair, she brought his lips to hers in a heady kiss. She feels the deep rumble of his chest as he groans lowly, returning the kiss with equal fervor.
"I want you to keep drawing."
Because of their kiss, it came out breathless, but the sincerity in her voice and her beaming face left no room for doubt.
"What?" he asked. Where had that come from all of a sudden?
"Tyler, clearly you love it. Maybe you won't get rid of those memories, but you shouldn't act like they didn't happen." She cradled his face again and pressed their foreheads together. "They happened, and they're what brought everything together. Besides, your drawings shouldn't just remind you of bad times. You should draw now, to remind you of the good times."
He hummed softly, seeming to truly contemplate her words. After a long pause, he looked at her face again, sighed, and smirked. "Fine."
"Good." Pausing, she added, "But why were there so many of me?"
"I—" He stopped himself and sighed. She looked at him expectantly "Something about drawing you seemed to calm me. Especially after that first full moon."
She beamed.
"And Care?" He lifted her chin and brought their lips back together, kissing her harder. "No more going through my stuff."
To which, she just laughed. "No promises."
A/n. I thought the fact Jeremy and Tyler drew was an interesting thing, so I tried to play around with it.
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