Super quick update: OK, Caroline and Tyler had slept together after his day transforming into a werewolf. She had shared with Bonnie and Elena her worry that something was wrong with him, and the girls had come up with a plan to secretly put a calming spell on Tyler, to allow her a chance to speak to him safely and sort out their feelings for one another.
I know next to nothing about yachting, so once again forgive any incorrect references. Why do I pick stuff to write about that I know nothing about? I like a challenge I guess!
Reviews welcome. Enjoy part 3 (kind of long again – but with only one part left after this, I had to cram a lot in).
Dog Day Afternoon
Chapter 3: Troubled Waters
Caroline sat looking forlornly out of her windshield. She had familiarized herself with pretty much everything about the exterior of the Lockwood home and also the interior of her car, down to the color of the skirt of the little hula-girl who wobbled on her dashboard. What did she have to be so cheery about anyway, she thought sourly and flicked her with a finger - making the trinket bounce around wildly. Something about that only reminded her of what she was here to do. She knew it was time to take the bull by the horns and step outside, but still she didn't move.
She had been paralyzed like this for ten minutes now. Normally she faced things head on, that was just her way. But something about speaking to Tyler again, scared her. It wasn't how unpredictable he could be (and potentially violent), she had strength aplenty for that; it was, she admitted, the fear of rejection. She had faced that many times over too, but this was somehow different. She realized she cared what the outcome was. With a massive sigh she flopped her head against her steering wheel.
Tap tap!
The sound made her jump. She flung her head up at the sound and looked at her driver's side window where the noise had come from. To her surprise she saw that it was Tyler. She hit the switch to lower the window.
"Hey, beautiful." He said, a big grin on his face. "You come to see to me, or are you here to see my mom on 'important town business'?" he joshed.
She smiled, a wave of relief washing over her as she realized this may (just possibly), go better than expected. Tyler seemed relaxed and happy. She opened the car door and got out. He immediately pulled her into a crushing hug. As she wasn't expecting this, her arms were pinned to her sides and she failed to return the affection. By the time she had freed one hand from his vice like grip, she felt that to place it on his back was a pathetic response. Before she could think about a way to respond that was suitable, he had already moved around to the passenger side of her car.
"Come on, get in," he insisted, "I wanna take you somewhere."
As the car drove off, Elena lowered the binoculars she had borrowed from Alaric.
"What the hell?" said Bonnie, echoing her thoughts precisely. "I can't do this spell on a moving target!" she worried.
"Come on, start the car." Elena instructed. "We need to follow them. He surely can't do anything whilst she's driving."
"This is bad…" warned Stefan from the back seat.
"You're not making it any better, Stefan!" snapped Elena.
She hated to admit it, but he was right. Things were already going badly. They had only just turned up because Bonnie had gotten a flat on the way, and although Stefan had changed it with Vamp speed, the spell which was supposed to be complete before Caroline even arrived, was not even in progress by the time she met Tyler.
Elena was cheered somewhat by the apparently friendly way in which Caroline had been greeted, but she was nervous that things would change fast. What's more, none of them had anticipated a road trip and Bonnie didn't have a whole lot of gas in the tank. This plan was going sour fast and Stefan brooding in the back seat did not improve her mood.
"Well come on, Bonnie."
"Geez Louise, I'm on it." She said, bringing her car back into stuttering life.
"Isn't it time you got rid of this junker anyway?" Elena snarled.
Bonnie thought it best all round if she chose to ignore her, and for the sake of their friendship, she bit her tongue.
They turned into the Mystic Club Boatyard on Tyler's directions. The guard on the gate had leaned down towards the passenger side window, and on seeing Tyler had waved them through with a "It's been a while, Master Lockwood. Nice to see you." and Tyler had replied with a, "Sure thing, Pete."
Tyler explained to her where to park, and Caroline pulled over in a spot right on the harbor side which was clearly designated 'Lockwood' in nautical red and white paint. They drew some attention from a number of club members, who were stepping off their yachts and heading to the clubhouse. A few waved at Tyler and called out greetings to him. He responded in kind, seemingly at home in this world of exclusivity.
She grabbed her purse and her hand was on the door about to get out when she spotted him rushing round to her side to open it for her. She found herself blushing at the chivalry. She suspected it was all a bit of a show for the people around them, (who were pretending not to notice her closely, but she suspected they could point her out in a lineup at fifty paces). She was grateful that she had spent so long figuring out what she was going to wear today, and in fact her blue short pants and pretty floral blouse had actually been a surprisingly appropriate choice. The weather was cooler now and the sunlight unpredictable, so she was pleased she had her D&G shades. She slipped them off her head and onto the bridge of her nose; a convenient place to hide.
It turned out the Lockwoods owned a yacht. She would add this to things she had learned today, along with how not to walk on decking in heels. The boat had apparently been in something known as 'dry dock' for over a year, which she presumed meant it had been mothballed when the Mayor had died. Tyler explained that they used to sail together when he was a kid, but that he had "less time for it than my dad wanted me to have" as he had gotten older. He had called ahead to the Club when they were on route, and she could see a number of men with pulleys and other machinery lowering what seemed to her to be a surprisingly small boat into the water. Tyler left her alone at the shore, feeling vulnerable and stared at, whilst he oversaw proceedings. She thought she saw money changing hands, but guessed in a place like this that regular and generous tipping of the staff was the way to stay top-dog. Just when she felt entirely like a spare part, he turned to face her and waved her across.
Tyler leaped up a rickety plank balanced on the edge of the yacht and leading to their mooring. She could see now her rather unimpressive mode of transport was called "Eloise"" as depicted in peeling gold script on the stern. She felt nervous walking up the gangplank of tipping into the sea, but Tyler's hands were strong and sure as he guided her across. As soon as she was on board, he dropped her hands and dashed off, busying himself with ropes and cables and negotiating a deck crowded with paraphernalia.
"She's a thirty-five footer, with twin keels and my father's pride and joy." He shouted across to her as he worked.
He disappeared inside the little cabin and returned thirty seconds later carrying a hideous and faded orange lifejacket.
"Put this on." He instructed.
She slipped it over her head, and passed the cord around her body a couple of times, following the advice of a dozen flight attendants who had shown her what to do 'in case of emergency'. To add insult to injury, he then took something which looked like a pair of metal camping clips joined by a long thin cable and then attached one end to a loop in her lifejacket, then the other to a wire which ran around the perimeter of the boat.
She had seen Duran Duran's Rio and this was not it.
"If you want to walk around, just unclip it and move it to the next section. It's just in case." He said seeing her face. In case of what? She frowned.
He was dressed in knee-length shorts, a striped Breton sweater and flat docksides. Caroline noticed he neither wore the hideous lifejacket, nor hooked himself to the wire. He looked pretty impressive, she had to admit, as he reeled things in and dodged about handling sail cloth and other things. He jumped back onto the dockside and untied the rope of their mooring. The boat began to drift slightly away and she felt uneasy until he made two quick leaps back up the plank and pulled it up behind him into the boat. They were away.
"Tie the painter up will you?" when she looked clueless, he indicted the rope which had connected them to the shore. "Just loop it around that." He indicated a metal clip on the edge of the boat. She weaved it around, uncertainly. She actually kind of liked doing something, it made her feel useful for the first time since they arrived. He turned a key and started an engine, confidently negotiating their way out of the harbor.
As they moved to the open water, he killed the engine and busied himself with readying the main sail. The wind caught it and he took the helm and pointed them out to sea.
Gingerly Caroline moved towards the front of the boat. She had to unclip and re-clip her safety cable a couple of times. She watched her feet (heels bad) and her head (height worse) as she negotiated her way towards to front (the prow?). Nothing killed that image of Kate and Leo quicker than a bright orange badly-fitting lifejacket, she thought.
So much for their big discussion, anyways. Thus far, he hadn't said a word to her that wasn't telling her when to duck. She sat down and looked miserably out to sea.
Tyler watched her sulkily move around the boat away from him and felt bad despite himself. He was concentrating hard on trying not to lose the wind. He knew right now he couldn't stop what he was doing and go talk to her, because despite not wishing to admit it, he had forgotten some of his sailing skills from lack of practice.
He felt it wasn't his fault though. As soon as he had opened his eyes this morning he was overwhelmed with the urge to get out on the boat. It had been like that every day since the change; today it was yachting, yesterday it was climbing, the day before he had run the distance of a marathon. None of it seemed to burn off the energy he had.
The family hadn't looked after the boat since his father had died. He knew as soon as he had switched on the engine, that it was not functioning properly. It had not been winterized at all and the diesel tanks were almost empty. The yacht looked frail and weather-beaten; it was badly in need of paint and he hadn't checked the bilges or even cleared the valves. He hadn't even checked the weather reports, or logged in with the harbormaster before he set out, (was his radio even functioning?). He knew his father would be livid with his lack of due process. His favorite saying had been 'respect the sea, or she won't respect you' and he knew he had been reckless in bringing Caroline out here.
If he was honest, he knew that the next time he switched that engine on it would fail. He glanced her way again and continued to battle to keep the main sail bloated.
Could she tell that they were in trouble?
"Oh my god, he's taking her to his Club. How are we going to get in?" Bonnie panicked. "We aren't members."
"Its okay, pull up to the guard." Stefan said reassuringly.
He compelled the guard to think they were guests of the Lockwoods and it was perfectly ok for them to be here. Bonnie drove on, her heart thundering in her chest.
The found somewhere to park away from the harbor, and hoped that Tyler and Caroline were too preoccupied to notice their arrival.
"You better get started." Elena asked Bonnie, but her friend looked worried.
"Here? But there are people everywhere. What if someone sees?"
"I don't think you have a choice. In any case, they will just think you are talking to us." Stefan suggested. "I'll look like I am responding, just in case."
So she began to do the spell, palms raised to the roof of the car, her eyes rolling back into her head with Stefan nodding and mouthing responses to her like an idiot. Elena looked on at Tyler and Caroline through her binoculars. She saw the boat being lowered into the harbor, and quietly spoke to Stefan.
"I think he's taking her out on the water."
Immediately, Bonnie stopped chanting and flung her eyes open.
"If she goes out there – I can't do anything for her. My spell needs proximity. I told you, I can't focus this on him if he's a moving target. Once they are out there, I won't know where they are."
The three of them got out of the car, and as the Eloise pulled out of the harbor, they walked to the dockside and watched her go.
Elena, not prone to cursing, decided some nautical terms were appropriate for the moment, and let rip.
The yacht hit a small wave and sea water splashed into her face. She wiped it out of her eyes and pretended that it was just the salt water that she found there.
"Are you ok?" he yelled down the length of the yacht. And she nodded.
"I'm fine." She wasn't.
He went quiet again and she sighed. Why was she here?
At that moment, Tyler began to curse. The wind had dropped away and even she could tell that the weather was eerily quiet. She realized that no-one else was out in a weekender like theirs. Sure, they had passed motor boats beforehand and she had been envious of the women sat relaxing in the fall sunshine on decks not covered in rigging, drinking glasses of champagne. But for the past ten minutes there had been nothing at all. They were alone.
Tyler was struggling now, he had lowered the main sail and raised smaller ones. He shouted 'ready about', the boom swung round and she remembered to duck. He began cranking things and pulling ropes, but nothing he did could seem to get them on the move again.
"Why don't you use the engine?" She suggested nervously.
"Because that's not real sailing!" he said, trying to cover his mistake, and making her feel foolish for suggesting it. She felt more salt-water rush to her eyes.
His agitation grew as he stomped around the yacht, pushing past her at a couple of points. She tried to keep out of his way, but he was randomly trying things that had him dashing all over the place, whereas her movement was restricted by the dumb lifejacket and safety cable. Eventually, when he seemed to have run out of options, he disappeared into the cabin and she heard him try the radio. Nothing but crackle. When he came out he swore loudly, and hurled a small wrench overboard as far as he could fling it. He smacked the lever to lower the anchor; at least they wouldn't drift.
She was afraid to ask, but she had to know.
"Are we stuck out here?", he turned to her with a look of pure malevolence. "Tyler, are we stuck out here?" she repeated. He banged his fist so hard on the fiberglass roof of the cabin, his hand went through it. He swore again, and used his good hand to nurse it. She could sense the blood, and when she stepped towards him to help, he turned his back on her.
"Please Tyler, let me see." But instead, he marched away to the prow of the boat and looked silently out to sea. She could see the tension building in his jaw-line, as he ground his teeth she began to worry. In her purse was a handkerchief; she found it now and went to him. She wouldn't take no for an answer.
She made her way to him, unhooking herself section by section and when she reached him, touched him on the shoulder. He shrugged her off, so she used both hands forcefully to turn him to face her.
"Let me see." She said, in a tone meant to suggest there was no option.
The cut was dripping blood, it took every bit of strength she had not to launch herself at the him and drink it down. She breathed constantly to calm herself and eventually the feeling faded. She reached for his hand and although he gave her an unhelpfully mean look, he allowed her to examine it. She pulled a thread of the fiberglass from the wound. It wasn't as bad as it had first looked, so she wrapped the handkerchief around it and tied it firmly. When she finished she kept hold of his hand and looked up at his face.
"Tyler. It's not your fault." She said.
"Well, whose fault is it? I don't see anyone else out here with a fucked-up-hand and a boat adrift. I am an idiot! My father was right."
She winced. Time to try a different approach.
"Tyler, what's going on with you? You can talk to me." He shrugged, his body taut. Even with her vampire strength (she was properly aware of that right now), he was probably a fair match to her.
"Nothing."
"No, that's not true." She forced him to sit, pulling him down next to her. He jiggled one of his legs.
"You went through something awful, Tyler, I was there, I saw it. I know you're scared about going through it again."
"I'm not scared." He said forcefully. "Of anything." He added.
She took a deep breath, this was going to be harder than she thought. She took his other hand in hers and rubbed her thumb gently over his palm feeling the warm whorls of papery skin. She didn't speak for a moment, allowing the motion to calm him, just like it had when she had stroked his back when they had been together before.
"Tyler, I like you. I really like you, you know I do," she began again, "and I think you know we went through something major that night." She searched his eyes for signs of response, but found nothing but that familiar twitch of tension in his jaw. She held his hands lightly so as not to worsen his injury. She pushed down the feelings that the smell of blood were bringing to the fore; she was acutely aware that she was in grave danger if she turned. He may not be able to control himself. On this boat, miles from anyone, she would be in trouble.
"You can talk to me. I know you know that. Why won't you open up to me?" Then to her irritation, she began to cry; big solid tears of frustration plopped from her eyes onto the deck, mingling with his blood. It seemed to bring him round. He let go of her hand and caressed her face.
"Don't cry." He said brushing her tears away. He leant in to her, stealing the lightest of kisses. She began to open lips, wanting more, but he pulled back.
Bobbing seagulls floated towards them, then took off noisily, on route back towards the coastline. For the second time that day, she felt envy. Still, she waited for him to speak.
"I lied to you." He said. Another pause and she waited longer. It wasn't like they were going anywhere.
"I am scared. I am scared of myself. I am so strong, I don't know what to do with it. I break things when I only mean to hold them. I get so angry, that I…" he drifted away into remembering some incident he clearly regretted. "It was bad before I turned, but its even worse now. I can't be around anyone; not you, not the guys, not my mom. I don't trust myself, I don't even like myself. I hate who I've become!"
The relief of opening up to her was evident, his body relaxed of all the tension. Her hand went immediately to her favorite spot on the back of his head, where his soft hair met the nape of his neck. She curled her fingers into the spot, over and over again.
She realized she had dreamt of being with him again like this, the two of them alone together. A sense of neediness passed through her body with a pain sharper than the blood lust.
"I don't hate you, Tyler. I think I love you." She said.
She moved closer and at long last he pulled her to him. He crushed her body against his, so he could kiss her long and hard and passionately.
His heart, like hers, was for just a moment, free to race without control.
