The sound of solid wood breaking against the wall caused Caroline to flinch as it crashed. The involuntary tightening of muscles wasn't exactly a reaction to the fact that Stefan had thrown a table across the room but the sound punctuated what she knew he must have been feeling in that moment. As though his heart were made of nothing stronger than cherry wood and one good flip of a hand could leave it on the floor in a dozen pieces.
Her eyes opened again, though she didn't look up from her tucked hands lying atop her lap. Shame clouded her head. Although she hadn't said a word, it was more than obvious that Stefan had read the truth in her expression. Her silent admission that just 'how together' Damon and Elena were was more than Stefan had wanted to admit to himself. In all honesty, she wondered if Elena had any idea what her actions were doing to the man she was supposed to love. Then, of course, she wouldn't – she hadn't seen him since that morning first night she'd stayed at the boarding house. She didn't see him struggling like Caroline did. Struggling with his own fear, with his own doubt, with the hunger that he wanted to surrender to just to block out the hurt he was feeling.
And Caroline, she had never seen it so pronounced before. Her heart sunk when she finally raised her eyes; Stefan's violence against the furniture in the room over. In the glow of the fire, she could plainly see that his moss-green eyes were sparkling with moisture. And she wished that she could have lied to him. If there had been any way to spare him of this pain, she would have gladly done it. Said anything else, anything to make it seem like it wasn't so bad.
It wasn't bad. It was worse. On the one hand, Caroline was seeing one of her oldest friends succumb to the power of a sire bond – allowing Damon to creep under her skin and get into her head and worm his way into her heart. Her heart that was so big, that everyone she let in could never really leave. And on the other, she was literally watching one of her closest friends tear himself up because he feared that there was no longer a place in that heart for him. Every night since he'd left his home, Caroline had watched Stefan miss her terribly. He was good at masking it, pretend like he wasn't imagining every single sickening scenario.
"Stefan?" Her voice was quiet, more quiet than it had been since she entered the parlor. A long moment had passed and the echo of crushed table was long gone. She didn't move from her chair; she wasn't even sure that she should. Stefan had resigned to staring into the center of the fire, unblinking. When she called his name, he was completely still for a fraction of an instant before he looked up and over, his brows tight as though he was confused – like he had forgotten Caroline was sitting there.
The blonde swallowed, her fingers twitching against her pleated skirt. The words that came out of her mouth next were so hollow in context, but she had no idea what to say. How could she comfort someone who may have just realized that had lost the love of their life? Perhaps even the love of their existence? But she strove to fill them with as much compassion and honesty as she could muster. "I'm sorry."
Stefan looked away and yet again, Caroline felt a pang of guilt that she had somehow brought this upon him. His arms folded over his chest as his gaze returned to the fire. It was mesmerizing him somehow, making him numb. When he answered, his voice sounded flat and shallow. Monotone; he was hardly even aware that he was saying anything at all. "It's not your fault."
"Are you -" Caroline managed to stop herself before her question could be finished. If she in all seriousness asked if Stefan was 'okay', she might as well slap herself for being so idiotic and insensitive if he wouldn't do it for her. This situation wasn't anything that could be dealt with that quickly; by simply absorbing the new information, processing it and filing it away. Stefan had to heal. Before upsetting him any further, she amended with, "Do you want to talk about it?"
That was, after all, what she and Stefan were relatively excellent at. Talking things out, figuring them out, dealing with them – together. If being vocal could help Stefan in any way – to let him bounce his frustrations and his grief off of her – then she wouldn't deny him. He had attentively listened to more than one of her issues and they had more than often been things that others would have passed off as being juvenile or insignificant, but not Stefan. He listened and he offered her his advice and was just there for her. Caroline needed to do that for him now, be here with him.
"I'm fine."
If Stefan had ever been truly talented at spitting out a lie, this was not his glory moment. Caroline knew exactly what he was doing. He was sheltering himself. If he could be numb, if he couldn't feel it, then the pain didn't exist. He was building up a wall he could hide behind. Unfortunately for him, she knew what that would lead to. That could so very lead up to a version of Stefan who managed not to care and then a darker version of Stefan who was dangerous was not far behind that.
Slowly, she stood up from the leather chair, crossing the rug to Stefan's side. Her eyebrows had made a concerned knot in the middle of her forehead as she watched his profile. She tried to give him an encouraging nod, hoping he would catch it in his peripheral vision. "You can talk to me."
Still, he refused to look at her. As if it were some tangible thing, Caroline could sense the high, impenetrable walls rising around Stefan. If she didn't break through immediately, there was no telling how far he might recede behind them. Her delicate hand reached out and found his wrist, tucked near the crook of his opposite elbow. Her cool fingers wrapped around his warm arm, his skin absorbing the heat of the fire he stood so close to. She gave the wrist a reassuring squeeze, never taking her eyes from his face.
"You don't have to pretend with me. Remember?"
Hope sparked in her when Stefan edged his stare away from the fireplace, turning his head to look at Caroline. At first, his expression was blank, devoid of any sort of recognition or reaction. The corners of her mouth turned up in a melancholy smile, showing that she was grateful that he was actually facing her now. Then she heard it. The hitch in his chest just as his breathing changed rhythm. His jaw clenched, but even the force of that dam couldn't hold back the water in his eyes. They flooded, blurring the green of his irises before a few hot tears spilled out, streaking down his cheeks. Caroline's mouth parted as she tried to quickly think of something comforting to say, but she hesitated a moment too long and it was too late.
Stefan's arms unfolded, shaking off her hand as they did. His body turned to face her completely as he kept them raised. In the next instant, Caroline was held to him, his arms wrapping around her. There was a sense of desperation and urgency in the way he embraced her, she could feel a bit of strength in his hold that might have hurt her should she have been human. Her own arms responded, one winding tightly around his shoulders, the other bent so that her hand smoothed through his hair as he pressed to her.
The shoulders she held were trembling as he cried into her. Never before had she ever seen Stefan this broken. She could feel her sweater shifted as he hung onto her as though any moment his knees would give away and she alone was his support. Any sound he might have uttered was muffled against the crevice of her neck. He seemed so helpless in that moment, it was all Caroline could do to just stroke his hair, making the softest of shushing sounds in the back of her throat. Although he was taller than her and his weight would have looked uncomfortable, she supported him easily. Right now, she needed to be his rock.
"I want to turn it off," he admitted, speaking against the light fabric of her sweater. "I want it off so bad."
"No, Stefan -"
"I feel like k -" Stefan shut himself down with a low growl. Judging by the shot of rigidness she felt come down his back, Caroline didn't have to guess what had cause the spasm of his muscles. The Ripper in him wanted to be freed; to let him feed and drown it out in a sea of blood so thick that he couldn't see himself or anyone else. He went to move away from her but she held fast to him; if he left the safety of her arms for a second, he could dart away and be on the hunt for fresh blood in an instant.
"What can I do?" She asked, open to any suggestions on how to keep Stefan sane and most importantly, very much in control of himself. "Just tell me how to help."
He remained in her hold, but was beginning to lose his grip. If he wanted out, truly wanted away from her, it wouldn't have been impossible for him to do so. He was older than her and thus, strong enough to break her grip. And if he was so adamant, he could possibly break her arms as well in the process. She felt him shake his head and he lifted it. Caroline could feel his heart absolutely pounding inside of his chest, and the scattered shallow breaths he was taking made her nervous. It was only a matter of time before Stefan was set off, if she couldn't figure out how to help him.
"I need to feed." His voice emphasized on the 'need', making it quite clear that his urge had gone beyond a simple desire to rip into someone and drink them dry. The torment had created physical hunger, one that needed to be satisfied in a timely fashion. Even Caroline, as strong and sure as she seemed sometimes, was not a match for a ripper. Trying to conjure up some viable solution, she denied him a release from her grip. Hunting was most assuredly out of the question and if she raced down to the basement to find him a blood bag, it would satiate him for a moment but he would want more. And then what would be the consequences of him tasting human blood again?
How far was she willing to save a friend? Was there not anything she wouldn't do for Stefan – when she believed that there was little he would not do for her in return? Her eyes turned up to the ceiling, as if the answer would be etched up there somewhere. It wasn't the most practical choice, nor was it exactly pragmatic, but in some convoluted way, it made sense. Her hand slipped down to the back of Stefan's neck, pulling him close once again.
"Feed off me."
With abated breath, Caroline waited for a response. She expected revulsion and for Stefan to wrench away from her and argue. But the offer was solid and came with good intentions. If Stefan drank from her, he could satisfy that unsettling need for warm blood straight from the vein, but it wouldn't send him spiraling down into his addiction because she wasn't human. Her blood was different. It felt like the moment had lengthened for hours before Stefan ever moved again. Caroline wasn't so naïve anymore. She knew what it meant for her to offer her blood to Stefan. What it was like for a vampire to feed on another vampire, although she personally had never had the experience. It was all she could think of.
Then she felt the position of Stefan's hand change. It felt the middle of her back and she felt the fingers hook around the collar of her sweater, pulling it down and back, leaving her shoulder bare. The air felt cool for a second, free of the heat of the sweater, then she felt Stefan's warm breath brush against her skin. Caroline could visualize how his face was changing while he focused in on the sound of her pulse, his reddening eyes tracing out the veins under the surface. Unlike the crash of the table earlier, she didn't wince when she felt Stefan's teeth pierce through her skin.
The tugging sensation she felt as Stefan drank was slow and fluid. Part of her was relieved that he didn't gnash into her, threatening to tear the muscle in a frenzy. If this was how he could deal with the pain, so be it. But then Caroline began to feel something else. It was like butterflies in her stomach, but they didn't ricochet around inside her; instead they spread, filling her with a fuzzy and a swooning sensation. It made her feel weightless and at the same time, she noticed Stefan's arm wrapping around her waist, keeping her afloat. The sensation changed again the more Stefan drank, the better it felt. Her fingers tightened into the back of his shirt, the butterflies turning to embers. Her eyelids fell closed and she barely was conscious of the gentle moan that slipped out, hardly audible except to Stefan's ears.
All that she was aware of were his arms and how his chest crushed to hers and that finally, their heartbeats were in perfect sync. The air was still around them, everything was still except for this strange push-and-pull effect between them. It was like Caroline could feel every inch of him as it relieved of tension, as it melted into her. She knew quite well that she shouldn't be doing this; if Tyler found out or if Elena found out, she would more than likely be privy to scorn. That didn't change the fact that it felt so good.
Since that night that Stefan had turned up on her doorstep, they had become closer. Much closer than they ever had been before. There was something intimate about sharing a space with someone else, no matter who that someone else might have been. And somewhere inside of Caroline, she loved that closeness – she craved it. It made her happy, to know that she could share something like that with Stefan. An unspoken understanding, the security they shared. Her blood flowing into his mouth was solidifying that emotion, that draw that they had towards one another. And it didn't seem indecent or forbidden at all. To her great surprise, it felt natural. It was bliss.
The teeth left her flesh, but still Stefan clung to her. It was incredible how relaxed she was against him even though their connection had been broken. Caroline exhaled, the embers burning out and settling in her stomach. The wound was closing; it didn't hurt nearly as much as she had expected it to. Stefan lifted his head, placing some distance between himself and the blood. Her eyes had begun to open, but they were stalled by the touch of Stefan's lips against hers. It was chaste, delicate and kind kiss. Their mouths didn't move, didn't jump to crush against each others but simply remained in still contact as their arms untangled from around one another.
Hands came up to Caroline's head, thumbs against her jaw as fingers smoothed over her curls. Her own hands dropped down to her side and a minute later, the kiss was ended. When Caroline met Stefan's eyes again, they were clear. She had the sense that the look was bittersweet. The pain was still there and by rights, it would have never just disappeared that quickly. But there was comfort there as well, like a healing balm over a fresh wound that needed time to close.
"Thank you, Caroline."
"I..."
Caroline's voice trailed off into silence. Their arms had returned to their respectful places at their sides, several inches of safe distance between them. It was, by far, the most intimate moment she had shared with Stefan – and part of her had already begun wondering if that was supposed to feel so good. She could still feel his mouth against her skin, suckling from her and cradling her with need that she'd never witnessed before. Tugging the cream-colored sweater back over her bare shoulder, her finger grazed the closing bite and Caroline couldn't have imagined the chill that shot down her spine.
"I have to find Tyler, and call Matt," she spoke again. It wasn't an excuse; those things were just as important now as they were before. Stefan nodded mutely, returning to his stance in front of the fireplace. It seemed more relaxed now; his hips loose as he rested an arm over the mantle. It was enough to know he was no longer rigid with thirst.
"I'll call you tomorrow?"
Again, Stefan merely nodded. As she passed him on her way out, Caroline was halted for the tiniest of seconds. His hand had lifted from his side, stretch out and touched the bare part of her arm where the sleeve didn't reach. It was the quickest and gentlest of caresses, merely his knuckles brushing over near her wrist, but it gave her pause despite of it. With that simplest of touches, any strangeness or worry that may have threatened to grow up between them around what had just transpired disappeared. After that little hesitation, she continued walking, her amazed smile hidden from Stefan's eyes as they surely followed her out the door. It gave her the sense that something was changing.
All wounds would heal; and no balm was ever unappreciated.
"Good night."
