Tyler shrugged his t-shirt over his head and paused a moment to take in the surroundings of the small cellar and everything that happened the night before. He wasn't sure how long he had been in Caroline's arms that morning, crying and taking solace in her soft touch and sweet, comforting words. All he knew for sure was that he wouldn't have been able to make it through the transformation if she wasn't there.

As he unlocked the large door and stepped out into the sunlight he saw Caroline sitting on the top of the stone stairs with her back turned to him. Even after she saw him as a weak crumpled up little boy, she was still there.

"Hi." She said softly as he walked up a few steps and sat down beside her.

"You're still here?" Tyler said, in awe.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I figured with you seeing me like that and everything you would have bolted by now."

"Tyler, I was alone. I didn't want you to be alone either and I'll always be here for you, okay?"

Tyler couldn't believe this girl. How could he have thought all of those stupid and shallow things about her in the past. Sure, she may have still been super neurotic but she really did have heart, more heart than anyone he ever knew.

Watching her sit there with her big blue eyes full of concern and... love, Tyler couldn't resist. He leaned forward taking her hands in his and placing a feather light kiss on her lips. Hey eyes went wide. "Thank you, Caroline, for everything."

Caroline nodded her head and gave him a little smile, a blush creeping up her neck and across her cheeks. "I've got your back Lockwood." Caroline shoved at him in a friendly, goofy way breaking the awkwardness that had been put between them after the "kiss." She stood up and pulled him along with her. "We should probably get you home."

"Yeah." Tyler agreed and went with her when in reality, all he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her senseless but he could tell she wasn't ready for that. He didn't know if she would ever be but he would wait forever if he had to.

Tyler's eyes snapped open and he sat up looking around his bedroom. Glancing over to the alarm clock by his bed he realized that he had fallen asleep for about two hours. Images of Caroline rushed through his head as he tried to shake the sleep and dream (memory) off. He brought his hand up and began rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ow. Shit!" Tyler yanked his hand away from his neck like he had just touched fire. Hesitantly he brought his hand back up again and carefully touched his skin, wincing in pain.

He jumped off his bed and went straight to the broken mirror he had shattered the night before with Mason's journal. In the cracked glass he could see red bumps and scars forming all the way around his throat like he had just escaped a fire. It burned his flesh. He jolted back when he looked down at his wrists and saw the same marks. A slight burning sensation began crawling up his calves and he quickly pulled his jeans up and saw the same exact burn like rash around his ankles.

"What the hell?" Tyler brought his hands back up to his throat and watched in the broken mirror as the bumps and scars faded and then vanished. He shook his head. "No, no, this isn't happening." Quickly checking his wrists and ankles again, Tyler saw that the rash was gone from them too.

Rushing over to his dresser he yanked out the bottom draw and pulled out the bottle of whiskey he hid in there. Popping of the top and taking a long swig, Tyler let the warm liquid flow through him, calming him down only somewhat. His first instinct (the most natural instinct) he had was to get up and go find Caroline. She was the only one he ever talked to about these things but he squashed that thought down and looked out the window. The sun was just beginning to set. He would ask Jules about this. Maybe it was some screwed up wolf thing. She would know. It would be okay.

...

Caroline was so drugged with vervain she no longer had the strength to lift her arms. She could barely even speak. It hurt too much. The skin around her throat, wrists, and ankles was burning and there was nothing she could do about it. She watched as Jules stepped out of the shadows and laid an old tarp down on the ground. She carefully took stakes, vials and cloths soaked with vervain, and knives that looked like the were meant for torture back in medieval times, out of her bag and carefully spread them out over the tarp.

"What are you going to do to me?" Caroline managed to muster out.

"I'm not going to do anything to you." Jules answered her. "He is."

TBC