A/N: Written for jdphoenix's Caroline Forbes ficathon, filling lit_chick08's prompt, We spent the night on razor's edge, all innocence and sin. Dedicated to Caroline Forbes, who isn't nearly as involved in Stefan's storyline this season as she should be. Here's why.

Hold Your Breath And Drown

When they realize how far gone Stefan really is, how much of a true Ripper he's become, the predominant emotion, somehow, is surprise. Under all the horror and determination and let's-fix-this-latest-crisis jaw-clenching, they all just seem really surprised that Stefan's reached this point. Of Damon they had expected this, worse, even, but Stefan? He had always been so steady.

But if anyone had asked Caroline (not that they ever did), she could have told them that she'd seen this coming. Because while they were all looking at the Stefan he'd constructed, practiced, and perfected, she was seeing the Stefan that he just was.

She remembers one night, back when she'd first become a vampire and he'd been helping her with the transition. He'd come to her window, the very picture of a stern but reassuring teacher, his brow set in concentration and his mouth betraying almost no hint of the smile twitching at the corners of his lips at the sight of her. She'd pulled on this new pair of stunning black boots, complete with vampire vixen heels (because if she was going to do this whole badass vampire chick thing, she had to dress the part. Otherwise, what was the point?), and they'd headed out into the darkness.

The boots turned out to be a bad choice, she'd admitted to herself as she stumbled through the rocks and muddy leaves, thinking this whole vampire balance thing was such false advertising. Stefan hovered at her side, looking torn between offering his arm and outright laughing at her struggle, and she had to bite her lip to keep from snapping at him, in his sensible boy-shoes and his ever-present perfection.

"How much further are we going?" She opted for instead. It wouldn't do to antagonize her only ally in this whole mess.

"Just to that clearing." He replied, his tone soft to match the peace of the night. She nodded and kept going, determined to show him that she at least didn't need any help walking. She wasn't totally clueless.

They reached the clearing within a few minutes, and she paused to look around. She could see everything, from each groove in the bark of the trees to the striations in the leaves on the forest floor. It was beautiful and overwhelming, and honestly, a bit weird.

"Ok, so now what?" She demanded, ready for the next step. If there was anything Caroline Forbes could handle, it was a new project.

Stefan stood next to her, silent and focused. "Now, we listen."

"Listen for what?"

"Prey."

She tried to stop the shiver that ran down her arms, tried not to show her fear. Really tried to hide her excitement at the very thought of a hunt. Judging by the sideways look Stefan darted toward her, she would guess that she failed.

So she listened, holding her breath and zeroing in on the low humming of the world. And in a rush, the quiet night became a cacophony of rustling, scraping, whirring, crackling, noise, all around her. The woods were teeming with life, everywhere, and Caroline didn't need to be told what to do next. She knew, as sure as she knew that her fangs had come out and her blue eyes were suffused with crimson. Honing in on one single source of the clatter, she took off.

She could feel Stefan running behind her, but all she cared about was the whip of the wind at her hair and the crunch of twigs under her feet. She latched onto the deer with pinpoint precision, her fangs deep in its flesh before it could even start at her presence. And it was sogood, the heat of the blood as it slid down her throat, smooth as melted chocolate, filling her with strength and power and –

Stefan was on her then, jerking her head up, meeting her wild gaze across the deer's body. He clutched her cheeks, smoothing her tangled hair away from the mess of blood on her face, and the steel in his eyes drove through her like a stake.

"Breathe, Caroline. Think for a second, take a – no, wait," he yanked her head up again roughly when she tried to dive back in for more. "You need to control this. Feel the rush, feel the exhilaration, and controlit."

Caroline nodded her head, up and down and up and down, but she was trembling all over, jittery and frenzied, desperate to get back to the feed, the kill. Stefan shook her, still holding onto her face, and her teeth clacked together painfully, her extended fangs piercing her lip and melding her own blood (someone else's blood, now) with that of her prey. The sting cleared her head a little, and she gasped in a breath of cool air, trying to do as he said. Trying to get a grip.

She couldn't pull her fangs back in, but she wasn't shivering so violently anymore. She kept breathing, taking deep gulps of oxygen into her lungs. She met Stefan's gaze again, hoping she didn't look so feral, wishing he didn't have to see her like this. But his eyes were full of kindness, and understanding, and encouragement. Wait. And something else. Hunger.

The deer was still between them, its heartbeat fluttering weakly and its wound gleaming in the moonlight. The scent of blood, coppery and fresh, was everywhere. Stefan was breathing hard, she noticed now, his fingers digging deep into the deer's flesh. She held his gaze steadfastly, somehow afraid to look away. There was a wildness in his eyes now, a call to abandon all inhibition and just succumb. The promise was mesmerizing, a siren song of sin and recklessness and pure feeling. She burrowed her nails into the deer too, holding the animal up with him. Away from him.

They stood like that for breathless moments, playing out the fantasy in the inches between their eyes. She could see it, the two of them tearing into the deer, then ripping through the forest, then blazing toward the town, to the prey that fought when you attacked it. The blood would be so much sweeter then. It would be decadence and delight, a frenzy of instinct that would carry them through the night. The sun would rise, drying the blood dripping down their bodies, and they would lie in the sun like they were getting away with something. They could be glorious.

Stefan's gaze started to waver, flitting between her eyes like a hummingbird in a cage, and the tips of his fangs poked through his gums, razor-sharp and white as a clean conscience. And Caroline knew she had to choose now.

"So I just breathe, right? Am I doing ok?"

And just like that, the dream was gone. Stefan's eyes cleared, his teeth turned blunt, and the deer slumped to the ground, free of them both. He flexed his hands compulsively, spreading his long fingers and coiling them again nervously, but he still tilted his head and gave her a small grin.

"You're doing great. Just keep breathing."

She nodded in reassurance, calming herself, soothing him, moving through the tension of the moment. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, restless and reeling and suddenly exhausted. But she smiled back at him, because she couldn't help herself, because he looked a bit haunted, because his smile really was lovely. And he was helping her, attempting to insert order into this new existence she'd been thrust into, teaching her how to be this. But now, she thought, perhaps…maybe she was teaching him too.

They'd never spoken of it again, that moment when they both could have given in to it, the pull that was always just beneath the surface. They'd gone on other hunting trips, and she'd relied on him, counted on him to keep her grounded and breathing and Caroline. But if she's completely honest, she's not sure if she'd ever fully trusted him.

So when they have to track Stefan by the trail of blood he leaves in his wake, and everyone seems so shocked that Stefan could do any of this, well, no, Caroline isn't surprised at all, not really. But she is prepared. Because it's Stefan, and she's still Caroline, and together they learn how to breathe.