She is talking again, about something she forgets completely once she shuts her mouth. She feels Stefan's cheek slide against her shoulder, stopping to rest upon her breast, cheek brushing lightly against the fabric like a wounded animal looking for shelter. He's curled up on the side, and he seems to become suddenly peaceful as he listens to her heartbeat, like it's telling him a story of comfort. Caroline chooses to ignore the fact that it has just sped up thanks to him.

Baby when I met you there was peace unknown

Her first reaction is to stay very still, hold her breath and count the seconds passing them by. But the seconds grow and they become a full minute and he doesn't move and it's okay. He never touched her like this before and she was unprepared, for the whole thing – his silence, his fragility, the way he seems to heal himself against her body – but it's not uncomfortable, not inappropriate, not wrong. She should be helping him out, and it's actually funny to realize she's the one that doesn't know what to do between them while he's completely at ease.

I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb
I was soft inside
There was something going on

The contact has nothing sexual about it and yet is so intimate that she feels her hear aching, crushed with the desire to take him inside. Inside her heart, in the deepest recess of her soul – she wants him to wear it like a sweater, so that it will protect him from the cold and the wind.

She looks down to see him close his eyes, relaxing against her. She sinks her fingers into his thick hair, traces the scalp under her fingertips, lets her lips brush against his temple in what it could never be called a kiss. There's a part of her – she's almost ashamed to admit it – that is happy about the situation. She has never wanted him in pain, not ever, but being the one he leans into to find solace makes her happy like few things ever did.

You do something to me that I can't explain
Hold me closer and I feel no pain
Every beat of my heart
We got something going on

"I'm really sorry I wasn't with you," she whispers, "But I am now, and I will always be. Just…" she sniffles, but manages not to cry. "Just, thanks, for coming back to me."

He's alone with his demons, the cold water turning inside him like a tornado to pull him down, and she can't help him with that; but still, she can be his shelter, his safe island. She can let him rest on her heart so that he can gather his strength to fight.

Tender love is blind
It requires a dedication
All this love we feel needs no conversation

After all, it's not like he's not already inside of it.

#

When she takes the stairs to go down Caroline feels lightheaded and confused. The only things steadying her emotions is the smell of Stefan lingering on her. She holds the jar in one hand and pushes her hair back from her face with the other, inhaling to let herself be relieved at the thought of the pieces falling back into place.

The moment Elena shows up in front of her to ask, "How's Stefan?" she's confused and uncertain, and because she can't decide fast enough who she is talking to, she just asks.

"Bonnie?"

The girl shakes her head and joins her hands together to torture them out of anxiety. Caroline catches Damon's head as he sits in a chair of the sitting room, his back to her. He gives no sign of recognition but she knows he's listening, too.

"So, how's Stefan?" Elena asks again, "I couldn't hear a thing."

"That's because he didn't utter a single word. I couldn't even tell if he understood anything I said to him," she explains.

Her friend turns on herself, head down and hand pressed to her forehead like the thoughts are making it too heavy for her body. "What can we do to help him?" she asks, turning towards her once again. Caroline can understand Elena's worry, and yet, she's too tired to deal with her need to be reassured.

Bonnie is dead and Stefan is locked up inside his head and they all need to scrape together as much lucidity as possible.

"I have no idea," she admits, "On the other hand," she says, trying to offer some relief, hoping it will be enough for now, "He didn't have a crisis. He actually… felt comfortable enough to be… close to me."

Elena's flickering eyes tell her she recognized the smell of him on her, and she nods, declaring, "That's a good thing. He needs his friend's support right now."

Damon grins unseen at her choice of words, while the implications completely escape Caroline. He's surprised at how amused he is from Elena's incapability to consider her friend's feelings for Stefan anything more than a mere support in time of need, or second guess the reason why Stefan let Caroline get closer but not them. It is not the moment to play cupid, clearly, and yet Elena is careful with her words, because not even in words she will ever let Stefan be drawn to someone else.

Maybe it's the territoriality that comes with the first great love. Or maybe it's bullshit.

"I managed to get him to drink some blood," Caroline explains, "And he's resting now. I'm sure he will come out of this soon. Stefan is strong; he just needs time."

"Yes," Elena nods, "Of course," her voice tainted with the lightest relief like she's suddenly remembered something, like she's suddenly remembered who they are talking about, and she trusts him to come back for the ones he loves because that's what he does best.

#

He's scheming, or trying to at least. Bonnie has been adamant about staying dead but he's not big on respecting people wishes – especially when they're stupid wishes – so why should he start now? And yet here he is, questioning his own reasoning. Still, he can face his horribly timed regurgitation of conscience once he's found a way to keep her.

"Damon, do you hear me?" his eyes shoot up to see Elena sitting in front of him, calling his attention. He realizes she must have said his name a few times but he did not notice. He actually didn't even realize Caroline has left 'til now.

"What are you think about?" Her tone is soft and her eyes sweet, like she wants to offer him comprehension and comfort. He doesn't want them anymore, he thinks bitterly, because when he did she didn't have the decency to come back.

"I want to change the curtains of the living room, what do you say?" he piques, with a grin on his face, while he tries to calm himself. He must really be stressed out to think anything less than the best of Elena, and it's not like him. Still, he feels something biting at the bottom of his stomach.

Elena smiles, head cocked to the side, an endeared look on her face. She finds it adorable how he can joke like this in a bad situation, lightening the tension and somehow giving her security. He finds it unnerving how she can stop at his façade and not see that there's a clock that won't stop ticking in his head and the moment it does he will implode on himself.

"Being a hostel for ghosts really took a toll on me," she says, moving her shoulders like she can feel the muscles sore. "I need to rest. What do you say we go to bed and leave the renovations to tomorrow? Our problems will still be there when we wake up," she proposes, reaching out to cover his knee with her hand. Her touch has nothing sexual to it and yet he can feel her need for some kind of intimacy and it annoys him.

Right now, he can't rest. He can't even keep his thoughts on one thing at the time let alone concentrate on what Elena needs. Elena always needs something. If he doesn't comply for once, he can surely makeup for it later.

"Right," he does, "Why don't you go? I'll join you in a few minutes," he lies.

She watches him, perplexed by his lack of participation to her proposal. Her smile appears with the wrong timing and he knows that she's disappointed. Still, all he does is offer her a fake smile as his brain latches onto the thought of Bonnie.

The few minutes become hours and he is in the same position in which Elena left him – two fingers tapping on his mouth as he does his calculations, think of favors to call on, deals he can make – when Elena comes rushing down the stairs, a look of panic on her face to tell him, "Stefan's gone."

"What?" He's immediately brought back to the reality, hearing the thunder resonating through the house as the pendulum clock tells him that it's almost four in the morning.

"I wanted to check on him and I went to his bedroom, but he wasn't there," she explains, barefoot and nervous, hugging herself like she's suddenly frozen by the fear. He can feel that feeling tightening in his throat – a sensation he barely remembers from when he was a child and he escaped from his bed to visit his favorite filly during the cold December nights – but more than anything he feels bothered and surrounded because he's trying to come up with a plan to save Bonnie and his brother picked the wrong moment to demand his independence.

"Calm down," he says, hands open to will her to do as he says. She nods obediently, the lines on her face relax slightly and he thinks of the sire bond, wonders if she'd be so ready to not worry herself to exhaustion if it wasn't for his hold on her.

"He's fine. He was calm just a few hours ago," he says, to reassure both of them.

"I know," she says, "But what if he attacks someone?" she asks him, voicing their common worry, "You know him, Damon. He's good, he won't forgive himself."

"He never does," Damon mutters looking away from her, "But right now he could be anywhere and I have no fucking idea of where to start looking for him," he confesses, pinching his nose, a big headache approaching. Why must everyone fuck up at the worst moment possible?

"Anywhere!" she just protests, "We can't stay still, he needs us."

"We did before, didn't we?" he asks, that biting at the bottom of his stomach has become unbearable and he has to take it out on the one that shares that same guilt. "Actually, we were rather active," he says ironically, "Just not for his sake."

"I didn't know," she protests, grimacing, "And neither did you, otherwise—"

"Otherwise what?" he asks, cutting in. "We didn't know because we didn't care to know about anyone, much less about your former boyfriend. I know for a fact that I didn't want to even remember he existed because it would have spoiled my fun," he confesses. It doesn't make him feel better, but at least he has told the truth. And once the taste of ashes in his mouth disappear maybe he will feel better.

"We were distracted with our happiness," she begins – making him wonder if that's really all there is to happiness, a warm and sticky bed shared with the face of your obsession – "But it was our right. And I know we would have done everything to save him," she insists, "I would have," she says, and of all the things she's ever said to him this is the most easy to believe.

#

There is an earthquake. Under her the ground starts shaking so violently is actually makes a loud sound; but then, the ground starts disappearing and only the banging remains. This is how Caroline wakes up from her dream, with the sound of someone hitting her front door.

She makes a throaty sound as her hand pats the nightstand to find the switch of her lamp, illuminating the dark room. Actually, she's stopped needing any light long ago, but it's a habit she likes to keep so she doesn't feel like she's suddenly become the monster that hides in children's closets.

"I'm coming," she says, glancing at the old picture on the nightstand of her and Bonnie on their first day at school. The frame is made of terracotta sunflowers, one petal is chipped. She stands from her bed to walk to her front door. "Who is it?" she asks, receiving no reply. She doesn't bother looking through the peephole. She's a vampire after all. Others have to worry about her not the other way around.

Her eyes are puffy because of her ungraciously interrupted sleep and when she opens the door she's suddenly awake.

Stefan is drenched from the rain that's falling heavily on the walkway in front of her house. Lightning in the sky behind him seems to rip him in two, separating the Stefan from before from the one staring at her right now.

Caroline is suddenly stunned into silence, her eyes wide open as she searches his body for any trace of wounds only to find none. Her hands reach out, just to make sure, her fingers touching him to find the same hard muscles she's always known.

"Are you alright?" she asks. "What are you doing here?" she asks again, not waiting for any reply because she's too worried to do so, but more than that because she's not deluding herself that he's going to speak at all. "Has something happened?"

He doesn't move, letting her touch and reassure herself, but his eyes are fixed on her and when he says "Caroline," like it's the answer to all of her questions, her face slowly lights up with a smile and she pulls him inside, almost by force, kicking the door shut.

"You're drenched," she says, pulling him to the kitchen even as he offers no resistance. "I'll warm some blood for you, okay?"

He doesn't say anything but the amused look on his face as he stares at her attire brings her back to reality. She looks down and suddenly realizes she's wearing her pajamas – a satin set in pink and white vertical stripes. The cami has a V-neck made of lace trim and the shorts have a drawstring elastic waist and lace trim on the sides.

"I'll put something on," she explains, her thumb over her shoulder indicating the direction of her bedroom. "Just stay here, okay?" she adds, walking backwards.

He doesn't answer but he's smiling and she's not worried that he'll disappear on her. He actually looks like someone that will never leave, ever again.

#

"He's with her." She's relieved but not entirely happy about the fact that Stefan has gone looking for solace in a place away from where she is. He can tell and he's not even upset about it.

Damon grins bitterly. The whole situation is just one big irony. The Big Man up there has great humor, doesn't He?

"All is right in the world, or almost," he sing-songs, gaining a half dirty look from Elena. Those eyes could be so much more expressive when angry when Bonnie was inhabiting her body – now there's no fun in having her look at him that way.

"It seems like my brother's world doesn't revolve around you anymore," he says, "It's quite unsettling." He looks at her to make sure Elena is not suddenly losing her appeal, wouldn't that be funny?

"Please, stop it," she says, arms crossed on her chest like she's trying to defend herself from his cutting remarks. "I was just worried; it's only natural. It's nothing I have to be sorry for." In that case she'll have to do better, he decides.

"As it seems, love means never having to say you're sorry if your mental balance depends on your ex-boyfriend's attachment to you," he says, grinning like an animal in front of his next meal.

Elena shakes her head, her pretty hair caressing her cheek, "You're upset and you're taking it out on me," she decides, aloud, "I'm not going to amuse you. I'm not having this discussion with you."

"Of course," he nods, quietly, "It's not like we ever had a decent conversation since the day you died. The most meaningful thing you ever said to me since then has been, if I recall correctly, yes, Damon, harder," he grimaces. He didn't even know he minded that much until now, now that the words have left his mouth. And yet he's been drinking so much lately and she never asked him why, didn't even see anything wrong with that. He never mourned Bonnie's loss and she never pushed him to. Oh, the sex is incredible, but once it's done it seems like they don't have much to say to each other anymore.

And today Stefan is gone and Bonnie is slipping though his fingers and he feels so damn alone.

"Don't put that on me Damon," she raises her voice, beginning to get angry and he feels like they're finally getting somewhere now, "It takes two to make a relationship."

"Well, this week you were too busy hiding somewhere while Bonnie did the dirty work, to make one" he accuses her. Truth is, it didn't feel as bad as he had imagined, being weak in front of Bonnie, to hold Bonnie through Elena's body, but he resents her for choosing to let him face Stefan and his guilt all on his own.

"I…" she almost babbles, "I just didn't know what to do!" she defends herself.

"Me neither!" he screams in her face. He is the older one but he's far from being the wiser and she can't expect him to be able to do everything on his own. They are a couple. They are supposed to face things together.

"And now I'm trying to scrap together a freakin' plan to bring back your best friend when she has no intention of staying," he says, more calmly.

"I know," she nods quietly, "I heard you talking."

He stares at her, but he doesn't know what's passing through her mind because her gaze is on the floor. But even if she was actually looking at him right now, he doubts he would understand what she's thinking. He doubts they have a deep bond to truly get it.

"God knows if I want her back," she says, "if I want for our lives to go back to normal," she explains, managing to make it sound all about her once again. "But she's a powerful witch and screwed up. What chance do we have of not doing worse?"

What she's saying is reasonable, it's logical. He can't stand it.

"So what's your plan?" he asks, grimacing, "Bring her flowers at the next anniversary of her death?"

"Stop making it sound like I don't care!" she says angrily, her fists closed at her sides, "She's been my family all my life, and I'm so grateful for the sacrifice she made to bring Jeremy back, but—" she shakes her head, her eyes glossy. He suddenly wants to see her cry.

"But she'll just kill herself at the next turn," he says, sarcastically, "I know that. I always knew she would end up killing herself just to save some unworthy jackass," he says bitterly, shaking his head to add in a low tone, "She even saved me on occasion." Isn't it funny? He's choking on how funny it is. He feels like dying for how funny it is.

"I just thought that I would be there to pull her out when things got out of hand… but I wasn't," he reflects, the words he says leaving him dizzy for a moment. He takes the glass from the coffee table and brings it to his mouth only to realize it's empty. "Fuck." The anger arises like a wave. "I wasn't!" he screams throwing the glass against the fireplace, making Elena jump.

His breath is erratic, his back turned on Elena, and he raises his hands to press the heels against his temples as though his brain is trying to pulse out of his skull. Bonnie walks slowly to him, wishing she could touch him right now, wishing her words could reach him when she says softly, "It's not your fault."

Oh, if only she knew then what she knows now.

#

Note: The song I used for the S/C scene is "Islands in the stream" by Constantines & Feist.