Title: It's a Wonderful Life
Rating: T
Couple(s): Caroline/Damon; Mention of Delena and Steroline; Matt/Bonnie; Alaric/Vanessa
Warning(s): Language
Note: Inspired by Smallville's episode Lexmas, in which Lex wakes up in a different world.
Set in the Vampire Diaries (AU) during mid-season hiatus. A Late Christmas fic.
I
Christmas Eve, 2011
"Where are you?" Her voice exclaimed nervously in his ear. A loud rendition of Jingle Bell Rock thickly laced in the background. Damon pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment, looking down at it skeptically before bring it back to reply.
"Oh, hey Blondie. I'm good," The Salvatore informed her with mock enthusiasm as he made his way down an abandon corridor of the old building that could ultimately lead him to his brother, "and yourself?"
"Damon, you were supposed to help me with the party," Caroline sighed, mumbling He sounds fine, Elena—he guessed the girl was at her side, directing Blondie to question him on his whereabouts. "What are you up to?"
What is he saying? He heard Elena inquire from the other end of the receiver; a hint of worry in her voice as she spoke.
"I don't know what you mean," Damon retorted, trying his best to ignore the brunette's constant questioning. He couldn't go into whatever situation the hall led him down with anything clouding his thoughts, "I'm caroling with the rest of the council. Oh, look, Carol is about to start up Silent Night. Can't miss that."
"Dam—" Caroline began, the sound of a click cutting her off. Damon pocketed his phone with a small smirk, eyes falling straight ahead of him at the single doorframe that stood at the end of the hall. His lips pursed into a thin line as he neared the entry, hand extending out hesitantly to push the beads dangling from the frame out of his way. This was it—no turning back.
5 Days before Christmas Eve
His eyes fluttered open; a sudden invasion of brightness blinding him momentarily to his surroundings. He slowly sat up, taking note of the warmth of sheets beneath him.
(Where the hell am I?)
His wondered, raising a hand to his head to massage his throbbing temple. The last thing he remembered was an old woman...and the barrel of a gun being aimed at his chest...and then a thunderous bang. Damon's eyes swept across the room; garland and miniature Christmas reefs with neatly tied red bows hanging intricately from the walls. His ears perked at the soft sound of breathing beside him. The man's eyes finally fell on the sleeping face of the form lying beside him-a peaceful smile brimming on her face.
(What the hell is going on?)
"Blondi—" He muttered, contemplating whether or not to wake her up. The pitter-patter of small feet cut him off as the weight of the bed shifted. A new presence waking up the sleeping blond as the mattress bounced beneath her.
"Morning!" The small child exclaimed gleefully, a familiar pair of blue eyes shining back at him.
"Woah," Damon breathed as the little girl prodded his chest with her dainty, pajama-clad foot. "Who are you?"
"Rosey, remember what I said about waking daddy up," Caroline yawned, tugging on one of the girl's blond ping-tails playfully.
(Daddy?)
"Yes, mommy," Rosey muttered, eyes drifting away from the stunned Salvatore to her mother. She lifted a hand and rubbed the corner of her eye with a guilty expression.
"I—I don't know what's goi—" His words were cut short when Caroline reached over and pulled his lips to hers for a short kiss. "Morning, honey," she whispered as she pulled away with an even wider smile than before. Damon stared back at her in silence, the blond oblivious to the shock he felt at the situation. He could not comprehend what was happening...if he had somehow managed to step into an episode of the Twilight Zone—or been at the end of some nasty spell gone awry. He simply could not remember. All that registered in his mind from the lead he'd followed was the sound of a trigger being pulled and an ache in his chest.
"I think we deserve your famous Salvatore waffles," The blond announced theatrically rolling out of bed slowly as Rosey began bouncing enthusiastically on her knees at the news.
"What is going o—" the rest died in his throat as Caroline turned around to face them, rubbing her large tummy gingerly; her lips set in a smile.
His eyes widened at the sight. She looked breathtaking, even in her light blue spaghetti top, stretched over her very pregnant stomach and pajama bottoms; with her long blonde, locks cascading down past her shoulders—a bit longer than he remembered.
"Caro—"
"Rosey, come on sweetie, let's get you dressed." Caroline called gently, extending her hand out for the girl to take.
(What the—)
Damon watched as the two blonde's exited the bedroom hand-in-hand.
"Daddy makes the bestest waffles ever," Rosey piped up as they exited into the hallway.
"Best, sweetie." He heard Blondie correct softly. He crawled to the edge of the bed, standing to his feet; head brimming with disillusioned thoughts and uncertainty as he took another glance around the bedroom. His hand shot down to his chest—feeling a familiar dull ache. He quickly grasped the end of his t-shirt, raising it slowly until a thin line became visible in the center of his chest—directly over his heart.
(Scar?)
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He ran his fingers over the unfamiliar blemish, a soft fluttered vibration drumming beneath. A heart beat! An image suddenly moved to the forefront of his mind of the old woman, muttering something in Latin—she'd been a witch, a powerful one at that. She must have done something, he thought as he let the hem of his shirt fall back into place.
The thump. thump. thump. making its way to his ears, drowning out all other forms of sound.
"Where am I?" Damon wondered out loud, eyes peering out into the empty hall.
II
He poked his head inside the slightly open doorway of, what he discovered to be, the master bathroom. Taking a quick peek over his shoulder—not a head of blond hair in sight, he slid inside. Closing the door and locking it behind him swiftly. He paced across the cold, tile floor to the sink; placing his hands firmly on either side of it to keep him upright as a flutter attacked his stomach.
(What the hell is going on?)
Peering back at him was in disoriented countenance, mouth set in a slightly agape expression. The throbbing returned to his temple and he pulled open the door for the medicine cabinet and scanning through its contents. A small bottle of aspirin caught his eye and he yanked it off its shelf gratefully, shutting the cabinet door.
He almost dropped the container from shock, at the sudden appearance of another all too familiar face.
"Hello, Damon." She greeted him with a ghost of a smile.
"R-Rose?" He stammered out, caught off guard by the ghost of his deceased companion. Thoughts began forming in his head, trying to figure out how all of this was possible...how Caroline, a vampire, could be pregnant; how there could be a little girl out there calling him Daddy...how Rose could be standing behind him, reflection clear as day in the mirror. Then it hit him "Fuck! Am I dead?"
The woman shook her delicate head of brown curls ruefully. "No. You're very much alive."
Alive—his hand went up to his chest mechanically; hovering over his beating heart.
"Then how—" Damon began before another idea came to him, "Werewolf bite. I'm hallucinating."
He lowered his hands to the sink, turning the facet and rubbing his face with icy cold water; hoping to arouse his senses back in order. Closing his eyes, he cut the flow water off, hoping he'd be standing in his own bathroom at the boarding house.
"Still here," her voice echoed throughout the room. "And you're not hallucinating. No werewolf bite this time Damon...this is your life."
"Bu—ah—I don't understand," He managed to get out, brows raised at the revelation. For some reason his brain kept returning to the moment the trigger had been pulled, then the bang that sounded immediately after. And the old witch.
"No...this isn't real..." Damon continued, shaking his head clear of the images, "It can't be—"
"Why can't it be?" Rose inquired softly, staring at him with a strange intensity. "It can be as real as you want it to be...all of this can be yours, if you make the right decisions."
(Right decisions? What is that supposed to mean?)
"I don—what do you mean?" He got out, attention drifting up from his shaking hands now gripping the edges of the porcelain sink, to return the woman's stare. "What are you talki—"
He turned on his heel, finding the space Rose had occupied now empty.
(What now?)
A knock jarred the sudden silence that had flooded the room.
"Honey," Caroline's gentle voice called from behind, "Are you okay?"
Damon struggled to find a reply, simple uttering a Yeah before reaching out to flush the toilet.
"You didn't catch food poisoning again did you?" She asked suddenly, this time in a more worried tone.
(Food poisoning?)
"No, Blon—Caroline," He caught himself before calling her by the usual nickname.
"Good, because there is no way I will be able to make the drive up without you," Caroline chuckled before quickly changing subject. "And we're still waiting on your pancakes. You know how impatient Rosey can get."
Retrieving the bottle of aspirin from the sink, he made his way to the door; opening it, the very pregnant Caroline stood before him with a wide grin.
"Waffles?"
The blond rolled her eyes at him, grin faltering slightly as she spared him a knowing look. "Fine, I guess mommy can make them today," She muttered lightly, pecking him on the lips for their second kiss, before continuing, "You need to finish packing."
"Packing?"
The woman raised a brow, "Remember you were the one who wanted to wait a week before Christmas to go home for the holidays. And I don't want you wearing the same black t-shirt every day. Honey, it was cute when you looked twenty-five but you're thirty now."
"Wha—I don—ah—home?"
"Honey, you're usually more articulate than this in the morning."
Caroline swatted his chest playfully, her free hand rubbing her swollen belly before turning on the balls of her feet, retreating across the hall and down the case of stairs.
(What is she talking about?)
It took him all of fifteen minutes to locate the suitcase designated for him. There were already articles of clothing folded neatly within—he was relieved to see they were things he might actually wear.
(Thank God for small miracles.)
Stuffing an extra set of underwear inside he pulled the zipper shut; turning the suitcase on its side, he grabbed onto the leather handle and guided it off the bed. He found the blonds downstairs; he set the luggage down in the entryway of the dining room.
"We didn't want to start without you," Caroline informed him with a proud smile. Rosey voiced her agreement as she slide out of her booster seat, blond pigtails bouncing as she scampered across the floor. She grabbed hold of Damon's hand. She tugged at his arm, leading him to an empty seat beside her mother, urging him to sit down.
His face scrunched up as he took his seat, eyes falling on the large stack of waffles sitting on the plate before him.
(Famous Salvatore waffles...)
"Just the way you like them," Blondie muttered brightly, leaning over and planting a warm kiss on his cheek. "Eat up, because we're leaving in t-minus thirty minutes."
"Wher—wha—" The Salvatore looked between the blonds, stopping on Rosey as she began picking up pieces of waffles with her fingers and bringing them to her mouth; beaming from ear to ear.
(This could be my life? Fuck—)
III
Damon watched silently as Caroline helped Rosey tug on her sweater; a green, cashmere turtleneck with an obnoxious red bow embroidered in the center. He managed to make it through breakfast without a hitch—keeping his mouth stuffed with cinnamon waffles to avoid any awkward conversation.
He had to be hallucinating, because this could not be his life. Married to Caroline, who was pregnant with his child, and another one skipping about like a miniature Barbie. When he dreamt about this kind of life Elena had always been the woman he pictured himself with. Always. He couldn't understand why it was now Caroline.
"Babe, can you get the bags?" Blondie requested
Thump. Thump.
Elena was it for him—he was sure of it. Thump. How could this possibly be his life? Thump. How had this happened?
"Babe?"
His mind ran through the events that had led him to this point. He had gotten a text from Stefan that he'd traced back to an abandoned building—an old woman had been inside, waiting for him with orders from his brother...she was a witch, and then bang!
(The crazy witch shot me!)
The dull ache returned to his chest. A lithe throb he ignored as he tried to piece together how that could ultimately lead him to this point.
"Damon," Caroline's concerned voice lulled him out of his train of thought. His brows raised in surprise as he realized the blond was now standing before him. Her hands moved to his shoulders, massaging them gently beneath her palms as she continued, "It's been six years since you've set foot in Mystic Falls. I think it's about time you embraced the idea of us all reuniting to celebrate in merriment."
(Us all?)
"Six year—"
Her blue eyes bore into his-biting softly into her bottom lip as he stared intently back at her. Another flutter rising in the pit of his stomach as her hands ran up his neck; and she cupped his warm cheeks.
"I know you're scared—and don't try to deny it...but I promise you, everything is going to be fine." She said under her breath so that Rosey, who was now at work dragging her Dora the Explorer suitcase across the floor to the front door, would not overhear. "Stefan wants to see his brother and niece. So we're going."
"Stefan..." The name escaped his lips; he couldn't believe this was actually happening. Caroline's expression softened, "He's your brother, Damon. He loves you...and he wants to see you. So we're going."
She pulled him down to her without warning, capturing his mouth in a long, loving more intimate embrace. Her stomach pressed headily into him—Damon felt her smiling against his lips; and a wave of heat vibrated through his body as he found himself responding to her touch. It was something he'd never felt when he was with Elena...a certainty in the way she felt about him. She'd always been on the fence about whom it was she truly wished to be with. There was always this competition between him and Stefan, first with Katherine then the Gilbert. It actually felt kind of nice to be the primary victor, even if it was in Barbie's eyes. She offered a unique comfort to this albeit strange situation.
(She was always the caring one...)
Feeling a short tug at his pant leg, he pulled away languidly. He dropped his gaze to the source of the pull, not surprisingly finding Rosey staring up at him sheepishly. Her small pink lips set in a lopsided grin.
"Daddy, I want kissy too," She cooed, extending her hands out before her. After a moment of hesitance, the Salvatore scooped her up in his arms-surprised she felt lighter than she looked. The scent of strawberries flooded into his nostrils as she wrapped her thin arms around his neck, placing a wet kiss on his nose.
He heard a laugh sound from where Caroline stood, watching on appreciatively before her eyes shifted to the wall clock hanging behind them.
"We should get on the road now, if we want to make it there by twelve."
Damon peered over his shoulder at the clock: 8:46. They apparently didn't live that far away from Mystic Falls. He remembered her saying something about not having been home in six years.
(How much can change in six years?)
Setting Rosey down, he followed Caroline's eyes as they moved to the car seat tucked behind the coat-rack positioned by the front door.
It didn't take a genius to understand her silent demand. Exhaling a sigh he trucked across the hall, picking up the seat and luggage Rosey had dragged over; maneuvering them in his arms, shifting their weight so that he could open the door. Pushing the screen aside he slid outside into the mild cold of the early morning. Snow already fallen, coating the extraneously decorated front lawn; a fake snowman waving with its red mitten clad hand and a large black top hat that looked like it once belonged to Lincoln. Caroline and Rosey followed closely behind him; the girl's hand clasped in her mother's while the older blond dragged a suitcase behind her by its handle, wheels moving sluggishly as they made their way to the old SUV parked in the driveway.
Damon pulled the backdoor open, sliding the car seat into, fingers awkwardly strumming along the belt buckle as he attempted to loop it through the back. A click! was his indication of success.
(These things aren't so complicated...)
He turned around as Rosey stepped forward, releasing her mother's hand. He took this as an indication to help her into her seat.
"Here we go," Damon muttered as enthusiastically as he could muster, picking the blond up and resting her in the car seat; minding her head as he hoisted her inside.
"Thanks, Daddy," She drawled out in a cheerful tone, as he worked at strapping her in.
"Uh—you're welcome...Sweetie," He replied, adopting Blondie's nickname for the girl. He patted her head awkwardly, pushing away from and closing the car door swiftly behind her.
"Here," Caroline spoke up. Damon turned, barely catching the keys the woman had thrown to him, big smirk on her face as she made her way around the front of the car to the passenger side. "Don't forget the rest of the bags."
"Thanks," He mustered, retreating back inside and returning to the car with the remaining suitcases for the trip. Popping the trunk open, he slipped them inside, securing the hatch moments later.
(It's going to be a long day.)
IV
They lived outside of Durham, North Carolina he realized after the first ten minutes of driving—only a few miles separating them from Duke University. The Salvatore snorted at the realization that the trip would be over three hours—trapped in a car with pregnant Barbie and mini Barbie.
(What the hell was Rose talking about? Thump. Thump. Damn it! How is it possible that I am alive...married to Blondie? How are we human?)
The idea crossed his mind that Stefan maybe able to help him put the pieces of his new found life together. He could only imagine his brother was living the dream—Elena at his side.
(Will he be human, too?)
Sudden warmth stretched across his hand; and his gaze lowered down to where it lay, finding a porcelain-white one hovering above it, slim fingers rubbing small circles along the cool flesh. His eyes rose slightly, colliding with her warm blue orbs; revealing pearly whites with a bashful smile. An unusual feeling stirred within him as he returned his attention to the road.
If he was honest with himself...being married to Blondie wasn't the worst thing that could happen in his life. If she was able to overlook all the bad that he had done in her life...maybe the others had too. It was a strange thought, and it occurred to him that he had yet to ask how they'd gotten rid of Klaus—or if they even had.
(He doesn't seem to be...)
Rosey had fallen asleep fifteen minutes into the drive, a soft snore filling the car; and Caroline murmured quietly to herself the things she needed to do the moment they arrived in town.
"Bonnie and Matt are hosting a couple's brunch tomorrow," She spoke up suddenly, turning in her seat to face him expectantly, "Jeremy said he will watch Rosey for us. And we're supposed to wear white, babe."
(So Jeremy and Judgy are kaput...and she's with Mattie boy? A lot can change in six years.)
"Alaric should be able to make it. He's flying in tonight." She paused for a moment, hand moving to her stomach; an almost painful smile growing on her face. "He's kicking."
Damon's eyes shot down to the swollen stomach. He'd almost forgotten about the little person living inside-being nurtured by Caroline; as if he knew anyone else whom might be as caring as she was, annoyingly so at times.
"Little Joseph's kicking like a pro," The blond managed a laugh, taking hold of the Salvatore's free hand and resting it over her bump; her hand pressing into his firmly, guiding it to the point of pressure.
(What the—)
He could feel movement beneath his fingers...this was possible the first time he'd ever touched a pregnant woman's stomach—and the baby inside of this one...was his. A swell of pride coursed throughout his body at that.
(That's...my son. Damn, Joseph's got a good kick.)
Damon was glad to see that the boarding house was still aesthetically the same as he pulled up along the drive way. Steering clear of the intricately placed reindeer boarded by lights around the sides.
(It's a fucking boarding house, not Santa's work shop.)
Rosey stirred in her sleep behind him as Caroline squealed in excitement. A familiar face stood at the entrance of the estate, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he watched them come to a stop.
He made his way to the passenger's side and pulled open the door.
"Uncle Jeremy!" Rosey exclaimed from where she sat, feet dangling beneath her as Damon worked at unbuckling her from her restraints.
"Rosey!" The slightly matured young man said with equal enthusiasm before going to work at help Caroline out of the car.
"Hey, Jer," The Blond greeted, finally on her feet, hands wrapping around him as he pulled her in for a warm embrace.
"Hey, Caroline," He murmured into her hair, taking in the sweet scent of fresh apples before pushing away from her to take in her appearance. "You look beautiful, as always."
Damon's ears perked up at those words. He had to remember that little Jeremy Gilbert was no longer a boy, now sporting stubble...and his words did not sit right with him, no matter how innocent they may be.
"Careful there," The Salvatore spoke up mockingly, walking around the front of the car and situated himself at Caroline's side, Rosey trailing closely behind him, "Or I might start to think you're flirting with my wife."
He winked at the Gilbert; smug expression on his face.
"Damon." Jeremy stated simply; he crouched down, extending a hand out to the small blond, "How about a hug for your favorite uncle?"
"Uncle Stefan is my favorite," Rosey mumbled truthful, eyes narrowed at the man; though a playful grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"Ow," Jeremy exclaimed, hand shooting to his chest in feigned agony, "How must I go on?"
A giggle escaped Rosey as she stepped forward, allowing him to pull her in for a hug.
"Speaking of favorite uncles, where is Mr. Brooding Forehead?" Caroline inquired before Damon could—a knowing look plastered on her face.
Setting mini Barbie down, Jeremy responded with a shrug.
"He got here over an hour ago..." He paused for a moment. Wondering whether or not he should continue, "...he's really happy you decided to come, Damon."
(Why wouldn't I come?)
"After what happened that night you got shot...he never thought you'd be able to forgive him."
(Shot—the old bitch shot me—)
He reminded himself that it was Stefan who'd ordered the witch to stay behind. Whatever had happened to him was because of his brother, he surmised; his face fell into a near sneer. Caroline placed a comforting hand on his arm.
"I know you're still hurt about what Stefan did." She interjected, turning him so that he could see her softened expression, "After everything you went through to bring Stefan back...getting shot was the best thing that ever happened to you, as far as I'm concerned."
(What is she talking about?)
"Being that close to death...more so than usual; laying there all alone in that house—It opened your eyes to what is truly important in life. It helped mold you into the man that you are today...the man I love."
Hearing those words leave her mouth almost knocked the breath from his chest. How could she love him? After everything he had done to her—the compulsion, the abuse. He tried to kill her for Christ sakes.
(How could anyone forgive that?)
He felt a twinge of guilt inside of him for all the negative feelings he'd had about the blond—she was truly something special; an angel right before his eyes. And if Stefan had been so unflinching as to leave him to die there was no way he could trust him around his...family; his daughter or Caroline, who was carrying his son.
(My son—)
His younger brother could prove to be dangerous, vampire or not.
"You guys ready to head in?" Jeremy spoke up after a moment of silence, having retrieved their bags from the trunk, struggling slightly to balance them in his arms.
Damon's head snapped in the man's direction, sending him a curt nod; wrapping an arm around Caroline possessively and taking Rosey's delicate hand in his, the four made their way inside.
A familiar tune greeted them as they entered the home; the sweet scent of gingerbread filling their noses as well.
Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy could be heard from the front door and Damon stared down the hall as another familiar face appeared before them.
"Hottie Vanessa?" The name left his mouth in a flurry of astonishment.
(What is she doing here?)
"Har har har," The brunette mocked in laughter as she made her way down the hall toward them, "That never gets old Damon."
He couldn't seem to figure out why she was standing in his house—well, family's house. The last time he'd seen her was when He, Alaric, and Elena had been researching at Duke.
Maybe that was the connection, Duke—he remembered she did attend the school. She had taking a liking to Alaric...and Elena.
(Elena!)
He realized he hadn't thought about the Gilbert in hours, very unusual for him as she constantly seemed to plague his mind. But for some reason, it wasn't as frequently before. He chalked it up to the bizarreness of the new life he'd woken up in.
The brunette pulled him into a hug, squeezing tightly before pulling away to get a better look at him, "Well don't you look good enough to eat."
Caroline scoffed in amusement as Vanessa pulled her in for her own hug. "And you look even better, Care."
The blond tilted her head to look down at Rosey, who was staring up at her with questioning blue eyes.
"This is auntie Nessa," Blondie informed her in a cheerful tone, "Your uncle Ric is marrying her!"
The girl opened her mouth in awe before thrusting herself at the woman, wrapping her thinly arms around her legs.
"You're really pretty," Rosey cooed as she gazed up at the woman.
"My ears are burning. Is someone talking about me?" An all too familiar voice inquired.
"Elena." Caroline greeted shortly as Rosey finally decided to let go of Vanessa. An awkward silence filled the hall as the woman approached them—clad in a tight black dress, accenting all her best assets.
"I'm just gonna—" Jeremy began before retreating down the hall, taking the bag with him toward the stairs before thinking better of it and disappearing into one of the downstairs guest rooms.
"Come on Rosey," Caroline spoke up suddenly, taking hold of the girl's hand, "You must be hungry...I'll see you in a bit."
She directed the last part to Damon, who had yet to speak up. His face was stoic—but she could see there was something there, what...she couldn't tell. Planting a peck on his cheek, she directed her daughter toward the kitchen; Vanessa followed closely behind, leaving the Salvatore and Elena on their own.
"Hello, Damon," Elena said softly; she looked a bit older, lips more defined as they flipped into a sly smile.
"Elena," He replied. It was almost strange how Katherine-like she seemed now. Dark clothes, dramatic make-up, hair in perfect curls...it was scary actually.
(What happened to her?)
"I'm so glad you decided to come," She informed him, throwing her arms around him and pulling him to her. He felt his body stiffen at the touch. This wasn't the usual innocent-Elena hug; he could feel ever inch of her body and although he would usually take advantage of an opportunity like this, somehow he couldn't do it. Not to Caroline...not while they were married and seemingly happy.
Pushing away from the brunette, he gave her his trademark smirk.
"Good to see you too, Elena," He greeted, patting her lightly on the shoulder. An awkward air of silence filling the space as her expression faltered slightly.
"Damon," Jeremy's voice sounded behind them.
The Salvatore turned, giving the man his undivided attention.
"Your room is ready. I thought it might be easier for Caroline if she didn't need to climb up and down the stairs..."
(Why didn't I think of that?)
"Yeah...thanks..." Damon needed to get away from Elena before he did something stupid. Untangling her hands from around him took a step back before asking, "Where is Stefan?"
Music Used:
"Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy"
"All I want for Christmas"
"Alas We Aspire" Amy Stroup
"Jingle Bell Rock"