Her mother had taken it fairly well, Caroline mused, for just learning that her vampire daughter planned to travel to a supernatural infested city to visit an original vampire who had wreaked tremendous havoc on Mystic Falls.
Put that way, it did sound a bit strange, but Klaus was a vampire, and so was she, and they killed people. There was no way around it. Sure, some vampires like her and Elena were in more control than others, but they all had blood on their hands, and she wasn't going to hold a grudge against Klaus when he was so clearly trying to reform his ways by keeping the crazy supernaturals of New Orleans in line.
Reflecting on Klaus had meant Caroline's body had carried her where it had pleased, and as she shook herself out of her thoughts, she realized she was standing right in front of the Gilbert house.
The house was still quaint, ordinary looking, which was so strange considering all the evil and blood that had revolved around Elena and her family. So strange, in fact, that Caroline laughed.
Moments later, a blurred figure rushed Caroline, knocking her down to the grass outside the Gilbert house. Without thinking, Caroline flipped her opponent over onto her back and pinned their arms down with her knees, hands around their throat.
"Care- it's me!" Elena Gilbert choked from under Caroline's stronghold. Horrified, Caroline leapt to her feet, pulling the younger vampire up.
"Elena! I'm so, so sorry!" Caroline reverted to her nervous state, where she rambled and apologized before Elena grinned and told her to stop.
"I've missed you so much!" Caroline enfolded her friend in an embrace, before pulling back. "But I thought you were traveling the world with the Salvatore brothers?"
"Hello, Barbie. We thought we heard you laugh." Caroline whirled to see Damon Salvatore walking down the sidewalk with a smirk on his face, Stefan following close behind. Stefan waved at her, a rare smile on his face, and Caroline was glad to see some of her best friends in the entire world so happy.
"Clearly, we're back." Elena smiled at Caroline, before her eyes looked at her feet and her smile melted away. Caroline knew what was coming, but still the pangs of hurt came. "Listen, Care, we just heard about Tyler." The tears were already wetting Caroline's eyes. "I'm so sorry." Elena pulled Caroline into a tight hug, and held her for a long time.
Caroline pulled away to wipe her eyes before taking a deep breath. "It's been two years, Caroline Forbes. You will not cry."
"That's the spirit, Blondie. Good pep talk." Damon sounded at least a little sensitive, but not much.
Caroline shot him an obligatory death stare, but she didn't feel much into it. Damon was right. It had been two years, and she didn't need to be so mopey over Tyler's death. Not so many years ago, she would have never believed she could agree with the older Salvatore, but she had long since made amends with him after breaking through his snarky shell and getting to know his more vulnerable interior.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Stefan, as always, sounded concerned as he patted her back.
"Naw." Damon cut in before Caroline could respond. "She wants to have a drink. She hasn't seen us in over two years! What do you say we head over to the Grill for old time's sake?"
Caroline eyed Damon for a moment before giving him a small smile. She appreciated that he read her so easily, that she didn't want to talk about it yet. It had been two years, but it still felt so real. Not talking about it meant she could pretend he was still in the mountains, recruiting new werewolves who had no idea what they were.
"Yeah, I do. I do want to have a drink." Caroline plastered a much happier and almost real smile onto her face, before linking arms with Elena and striding off in the direction of the Grill.
()()()()()
"I'll have a slice of seasonal fruit pie and a cup of black coffee please." Dean folded the small menu of the diner before handing it to the very pretty, black-haired waitress.
"Will that be all?" The waitress had a brilliant smile, white teeth and full, red lips.
"Yes, thank you." Dean paused. "Unless…" He trailed off, leaning closer to the waitress and giving her his signature full-lipped right-eyebrow-raised glance. "…you're on the menu." He winked, before sitting back into his seat with the most smoldering gaze he could muster at this time of the morning.
The waitress curved those red, red lips into an adorable half-smile, before giggling a little bit. "I'll be right back with your order." She winked back at him, holding his gaze as she turned until she walked away.
Dean watched her walk away, admiring her behind in the diner outfit, a white polo, black mini-skirt, and red apron. His concentration was only broken when she moved out of his line of sight and he instead was gazing wistfully at someone's grandpa.
Dean had been driving all night, desperate to make it to Florida by the afternoon. However, at five in the morning, he was tired, and was considering hankering down in a bed&breakfast right here, right outside of New Orleans. But first, before he decided where he should go, he needed to wake up with a slice of pie.
"Here you go, darling." The waitress placed what looked like marionberry pie and coffee in front of him. She grinned at him again before leaning close. "I'm done in half-an-hour, if you'd like to wait." She winked again before turning to walk away.
"Wait." Dean caught her wrist, and she turned, one eyebrow raised in a playful expression. "Do you know where the cheapest, nearest, motel or b&b is?"
The waitress looked a little unimpressed, but answered him anyways. "You're gonna have to go in New Orleans to get a good one, darling, there isn't much out here. And what there is isn't good."
"Thanks." Dean released her wrist, deep in thought as he spooned bits of delicious pie into his mouth. New Orleans was a dangerous place for those who were aware of the supernatural. That place was crawling with witches, ghouls, vampires, everything. But how bad could it be, if he just took a few hours rest there? If he ran into anything, he'd just kill it. He had his vamptonite, his dead man's blood, and of course, his salt and silver bullets. With a little sleep, he could take on anything.
Finishing his last drops of coffee and last spoon of pie, Dean dropped a twenty on the table and walked out, completely forgetting the waitress. He was much more concerned with his mental inventory, taking into account what he had stored in the back of his '67 Impala. Climbing into the front seat and starting the purr of the engine, Dean Winchester grinned a full on grin, for once feeling like he could take on anything, both natural and supernatural.
()()()()()