The title is from the song "Fade Into You" by Mazzy Star.

Unbeta'd.


fade into you

i think it's strange you never knew


The final bell rings, signaling the end of another day in Mystic Falls High, as students burst out in the hallway from every direction, the usual after class chatter spreading through air like the buzzing of bees. A swarm of them are milling about to the exit, a few bumping to the pretty blonde girl walking against the tide. She tucks her hand beneath her skirt, wincing lightly as the fabric brushed on the still raw flesh there but she wears her cheerleader smile, flashes it to no one in particular as she moves away from the faceless crowd and marches further inside.

On the second landing, she stops by the last door on the left, fixes her denim cardigan, and catches herself chewing on her bottom lip. It seems to be becoming her thing nowadays—developing bad habits.

Breathe, Caroline. She tells herself, closing her eyes as she reaches for the knob.

She pushes the door open.

"You're late, Miss... Miss Forbes?" Mr. Saltzman stutters, confused.

"This is detention." He tells her slowly, stretching the words, as if she doesn't understand.

"I know."

She tucks her fist further in her skirt.

"You're in detention?" He asks again, even more confused.

Someone sniggers from the back of the room but Caroline keeps her eyes down. She grants Mr. Saltzman a wordless shrug as he bewilderedly double checks his list for her name and she breezes to the seat nearest the window, slumping down the chair with her head down, avoiding to catch anyone's gaze.


She waits five, ten, fifteen minutes for instructions that would probably never come. Seems Mr. Saltzman's idea of detention is to torture everyone with boredom and soon enough, judging from the random noises around the room, everyone else found things to busy themselves with to pass the idle time.

Outside, it begins to rain.

Feet up the table, glasses hanging low on his nose, Mr. Saltzman looks a whole lot older than he really is busying himself with a thick bulky book. Caroline tries to make out the title on its spine when there's a tap on her back and she turns to see Trevor Smith's tan face smiling smugly at her.

"What brings you to grace our humble land, Miss Forbes?" He asks her in a patronizing tone.

From behind him, Jules King and Vicki Donovan share condescending glances, snickering.

"None of your business." She deadpans, brushing off the hand he still has on her shoulder.

It comes out a bit harsher than she means to and the three of them stare at her, judging, suddenly making her self conscious.

Instinctively, Caroline scans the rest of the room for the first time since she came in—from the two older jocks at the back who, thankfully, doesn't take notice of her outburst, then to Jeremy Gilbert who gives her an acknowledging nod, and finally to Niklaus Mikaelson who's looking at her with an impressed dimpled grin.

Her eyes travel to the sketchpad on his desk but he holds her gaze with his for a little while until she turns away abruptly, her hand unconsciously tugging at her ponytail.

She doesn't turn around again even as the clock strikes five, Mr. Saltzman announcing their dismissal, and she all but runs out of the room before anyone else does.


It's raining like mad and she is standing alone behind the school building. She would've preferred to wait this out at the school entrance but Jules and her crew are still there and they're not really people she would call her friends.

From beneath her skirt, she untucks her fist, holds it out in front of her, palm down, and lets the cold rain run through her sore knuckles. It's red and a bit bruised. Her hair is wet and sticky, her nails are ruined and so are her shoes. She's chewing on her lower lip so hard that when runs a hand on it, it comes away red.

There's a trail of smoke from the corner of her eye and on the bench not far from her sits Rebekah's brother, a cigar between his lips, a sketchbook on his lap. She notes he's been doodling on it since detention started.

"You're bleeding." He says simply in his lilting British accent. It takes her a second to react and quickly she looks away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand—her bruised hand. She grimaces at the sudden contact.

"You should suck on it."

She swings her head at him. "What?"

"Suck on your lips. It'll stop the bleeding."

Caroline gapes at him a bit longer before hesitantly taking his advice and tastes rust between her teeth. After a while, she feels his eyes on her and she releases her lip self-consciously with a wet pop, tucking her hair behind her ear. "This... happens to you often?"

Rebekah tells her he and Kol used to get into fights a lot.

"Something like that."

"Oh."

Klaus throws his smoke under his boots and stands up, surprising her when he rest to the wall next to her. "So, detention?" He leans his head down to her height and she finds she's never really seen his eyes this close. "What could you possibly have done?"

She looks away. To be honest, she's puzzled by his interest or just the fact that they're speaking at all.

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing to me. You seem like you've just been to a brawl." He points out, eyeing her bleeding lip, her red knuckles. So he did notice that.

"Damon Salvatore was sporting quite a black eye in English." He continues when she doesn't speak. "Suited him nicely, I think."

"He deserved it for being an ass."

He chuckles. "Would have been much better if you did it in front of a larger crowd, curbed his ego a little bit."

"No, I think I did him just fine."

Holding up her fist, she cannot help but to mirror his amused grin with a proud one. "Besides, that would earn me worse than detention. They let me off easy."

"Of course they did. You're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He bows his head, coyly peeks up to her through his lashes. "More than just a pretty face."

She rolls her eyes.

"Well what about you then?" She speaks up, steering the conversation away from her. "What did you do?"

This time, his eyes turn away.

"I just didn't want to go home." He whispers after a beat.

Leaning on the wall, she smells the rain, the wet pavement. From where they stand, Mystic Falls seems like it's fading away.

"Me too." She finds herself saying.

They stay like that for a bit before their tiny bubble of silence is disrupted. They hear someone calling his name and they both turn to see Tatia Petrova lingering by the back entrance. She is looking at them with a furrowed gaze, her arms crossed against her chest, before she spins on her heel and marches back inside.

"I guess that's your cue."

"Yeah well..." Klaus pushes himself off the wall stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn't. "See you around."

And he's gone.

A little while later, she notices he left his sketchbook on the bench. She doesn't know why but, somehow, it bothers her so much how he could leave something just like that, without as much as a second glance.

The urge to leave churns her guts, not wanting to be there anymore.

It hasn't stop raining.

Caroline takes the sketchpad, puts it underneath her denim jacket, and braves the rain not looking back.


A/N:

1. There's going to be a continuation though I'm still not sure how long this will run but we'll see.

2. Rating may or may not be changed to M in the future.

3. Thank you for reading. Please drop a review if you can. I want to hear what you guys think.