Chapter XII: Caroline Forbes

"Damon!" Caroline yells as she rushes upstairs, food all but forgotten. Damon is screaming, sharp staccato yells that he has been trying to muffle but couldn't alerting the blonde that he is now awake. "Damon? Are you -? I mean, what can I do to make it better?"

It's been more than a week since a witch found her way into his bedroom and tried to kill him, yet he hasn't quite healed. His torso has been stitching itself slowly – annoyingly, painfully slow – starting from his back and making its way up to his abdomen. Ric had said last time he'd changed the bandages that it was nearly healed, but Damon still couldn't feel his legs at all, despite the spine having healed among the first. He wouldn't say it, just like how he wouldn't acknowledge that the only way he got any sleep was when Ric was staying in his bedroom with him, just like how he would deny even having nightmares, that he was terrified at the thought of not being able to walk again. Caroline has joined in on that thought after days had passed and no change was noticeable. Bonnie had yet to arrive as well, but she had said she was on her way earlier today. They needed Bonnie soon.

"Damon?" Caroline asks again from his doorway, watching him struggle to even his breath while he clutched at the sheets in pain, his chest rising and falling quickly. They noticed early on that the more Damon healed the more pain he was in. Liz Forbes had been the one to realize the connection. Damon had tried to laugh it off in his usual manner, but then his spine had snapped in place and there had been no way to keep the unearthly scream from leaving his lips. He'd been in constant agony for the rest of the night as – most likely, but they weren't sure – synapses and nerve endings reconnected. Now his intestines were merging with the ripped pieces from the witch's handy work, his stomach swirling painfully inside of him. He had had a hand inside his abdomen once, he remembers when a wave of white hot pain crashes over him and Caroline moves to hold his hand, and it had been ten times less than how it feels now to heal. He flails for few minutes, nausea overtaking him and the other vampire dashes as fast as she can to get a bucket from the bathroom. He heaves air and blood and a little bit of food that they've been making him eat, then his throat burns as he tries to throw up some more but there is nothing left inside of him. His spine aches as he lifts slowly to do it, then sends sharp, knife-like spikes when he moves slightly faster than he should have to lay back down.

That's another thing he refuses to admit, but thinks it as loudly as the other, as clear as his gratefulness for Ric, as his awareness of Caroline's thoughts. He hates being in this bed. He hasn't left it in more than a week, unless you count the time Ric and Liz had to lift him up and hold him kind of hovering above it and little to the side as Caroline vamp-sped changing his sheets, and he is sick of it. He thinks that if he never again has to lay in it, it will be too soon – and he had loved his bed!

"Go back, I'm fine. It'll pass, Blondie." He manages to say between gasps and groans, fighting with himself to let go of the material clutched in his hands. Caroline almost doesn't listen, but there is nothing she can do to help, not without more morphine, and since Meredith found Ric stealing and refused to even talk to him anymore – and then forbid Liz to get some when the Sheriff issued an official request – they were without any efficient pain killer. Not that the morphine did much, in fact in a good day it barely took off the edge, but it was something at least.

Caroline goes back to her cooking. Since having to take care of Damon, she's found out she isn't that horrible a cook if she puts her mind to it, her mom even praising her for some of the things she's made when she has the time to stop by and help. The vampire doesn't know where Alaric went, he just left in a hurry earlier that day without any explanation.

Her phone starts ringing. She foolishly thinks it might be Stefan or Elena, finally having heard her voice mails. She is pretty sure they tossed their phone away the minute they got out of dodge, but she keeps hoping. Hopes that Stefan will hear her voice begging to come back because "Damon is hurt and I don't know what to do, Stefan, please" or that Elena will appear in the doorway, her arms wide to hug her saying "it's alright, I'm here Care. What can I do to help?" or both of them parking their car up front and running inside worried, Stefan rushing to his brother's side as Elena listen to Caroline explain what happened, with tears in her eyes telling the blonde they're going to make it this time too. On the other line is Matt, and Caroline hates how disappointed she is about the fact. He tells her that Jeremy is leaving Mystic Falls. Caroline's first thought is "good riddance", followed by a quick flash of memories. Bonnie in front of her crying her eyes out, Bonnie telling her Jeremy broke up with her because she's been distant, Caroline wrapping her arms around her as she pulls her inside for a long night of ice-cream eating and movie watching, Elena knocking a few minutes later, a bottle of tequila in hand and a few choice words for her brother, moving to embrace Bonnie and apologize for the stupid that is Jeremy. Caroline remembers how Bonnie gave this half-laugh half-sob, and hugged them both and spent the night not thinking about her mom being a vampire or Jeremy. When Matt hangs up Caroline is hit by vertigo faster than even her vampire reflexes can cure and she has to sit down for a bit. Ric returns with a lot of morphine and when her mom comes in that night she refuses to ask how he got it.

"Vulneribus corpore medere. Tollis dolorem. Sutam carnis. Natura obsequerer! Exaudi me deam!"

Bonnie's words were muttered over and over again, her eyes closed, her hands hovering over Damon's stomach, the air filled with sweet smelling smoke from the herbs she was burning. The spell was strong, but the young woman was sure she could do it, and so she chanted again and again until she saw Damon's breath deepening and his skin drawing together and healing, leaving behind soft red scars along the edge of his cut. The windows and the door leading to the balcony blew open sometime during the spell, wind picking up speed as Bonnie's voice rose. One last "Exaudi me, deam!" and Bonnie lowered her hands, exhaled long and opened her eyes as the wind calmed down, only a calm breeze now flowing through the room.

"Damon?" she asked, checking to see if he was awake. He had fallen unconscious a little after she arrived, the pain too potent for even him to withstand.

"Judge-y, you know it's creepy to watch someone sleeping?" he murmured, his voice nowhere near strong enough, but there was relief in his words and he was breathing normally.

"Well, some would call it romantic. I haven't heard you complaining when Ric does it." She answered half-heartedly. He gave a snort of amusement, his lips curving into a smirk afterwards.

"Because what Ric and I have is special." He answered and promptly fell asleep, the sound of her laughter the last thing he heared. Bonnie questions when she last laughed so much. Years ago maybe? His pain doesn't return, but he still can't feel his legs.

Alaric Saltzman used to be an ordinary man once upon a time. He used to have friends with whom he went out and had fun and didn't kill him when they got pissed, he used to have a girlfriend that wasn't a psycho, he used to spend Saturday nights in, watching a movie and drinking a beer and not waking up wondering where the hell he was. But that was once upon a time, before he got married, before his wife got turned and became a raging madman and her sire his best friend, that had killed him several times now. So when he wakes up in the middle of Town Square late at night with no idea how he ever got there, it takes him a minute or two to get worried. When realization hit him, he questions briefly if perhaps he's started to sleepwalk since Damon's attempted murder nearly a month ago. But that plan is squandered quickly because Damon's attempted murder was a month ago. Then he thinks that perhaps he was taken here for a purpose, but there is no one else in the Square so that can't be it either. He spends a while longer thinking until he deems it hopeless and slowly begins his walk back to the Salvatore Boarding House, hoping Damon hasn't had another nightmare while he was gone. Despite having left Damon's bedroom a week and a half ago, he had nearly every night stayed in front of the door, listening. When Damon had a nightmare more than one time a night, Ric would enter and stay in the chair next to the bed until his friend calmed down, then he would go to sleep himself.

As he walks he thinks. There have been other times he's blacked out lately, moments when he doesn't remember what's happened for a few hours at a time, moments when he wakes up and he's dressed differently than with what he remembers going to sleep into, but neither Caroline nor Liz – who's been spending more and more time at the Salvatore's – said anything so he had left it alone. Now though he is worried.

There have been some unsolved murders lately. Liz had been quite baffled when one of Elena's weapons had been found, a stake inside the chest of one of the council members. The trail had led to nowhere – Elena was gone and he was home with Caroline and Damon all day every day. Thank God it's June otherwise Caroline would be left to take care of the most stubborn vampire alone while he had to teach.

But what if it had been me? The thought is like a slap. He had started losing time around the time of the first murder and he had lost nearly 3 hours when the council member had turned up dead. It was possible, he had often wondered how he was even sane, but that had been mostly jokingly. What if he was going crazy? He should tell someone, he decides.

"But who?" he mutters in the dead of night, the road empty at this hour. Only two more miles until the Boarding House. Fuck, my feet are hurting!

"Maybe Dam- No. He's got enough to deal with." Plus we're starting the physical therapy tomorrow. He thinks after he gets over the fact that he's begun talking to himself. "I should tell Liz at least." He muses eventually as he sees the front door. The sun is not yet on the horizon so he might get a few hours of sleep in before he and Caroline start with the next step in Damon's recovery.

"Come on, Ric! It wasn't you!" Damon argues, but it is fruitless. Alaric has made his decision. He doesn't know how long until he takes over completely and he won't risk every one he care about. He won't.

"It might not be, but Bonnie's herbs can only hold him off so long. I'd rather it not be me that decides to kill you next. Plus, you don't need me anymore. You can stand on your own now and Caroline is the one with the next thing to do. I think you're starting walking soon."

"But Ric..." he doesn't know what to say. Alaric has a good point, it's been proven when he almost killed Liz a few day ago.

"I'll be fine. I did tell you though, didn't I?" Ric smiles, swinging his bag over his shoulder. He's really leaving then, Damon thinks from his spot laying on the couch – God, I never thought I'd miss siting on this couch!

"What?" he's defeated.

"I told you you're gonna walk again. You were a dick about it, but I knew." And as the door closes and the car starts up Damon can't help the flash of betrayal and the memory of Stefan doing the same a month and a week ago.

"Damon! Just one more step, I swear! Come on!" Caroline cheers, but she's clenching her fists tight at her sides, her legs tensing in case he can't do it. He's already far surpassed her expectation for the day. Ric left two day ago and since then Damon has been trying to walk on his own, pushing his limits until he ends up exhausted at only 9 pm.

"Shut. Up." He hisses, drawing in a shaky breath, feeling his arms trembling as he grips the bars. He closes his eyes tight and inhales once, then he lifts his right foot up barely and half-moves half-drags it forward. He plants the foot down on the floor, both his legs shaky with exertion and Caroline moves in front of him, holding him from beneath his arms. He relaxes his weight on her, knowing she can take it and exhales deeply. A small smile graces his lips. He did it.

"I told you, you could!" she whispers in his ear as she slowly lowers him on the couch. He can sit up for about two hours now.

She sits beside him, putting a glass of blood to his lips. His arms are numb by his side. He opens his mouth, relishing the taste of blood and feeling it heal his aching muscles slowly. He still can't heal like he could before the attack. He wonders if he ever will.

"I'm surprised." He hears the witch. He didn't even know she was here today. She's been taking care of her vampire mother a lot lately. "I think a few more weeks and you'll be walking properly again." She continues. "Figures you'd be stubborn enough to pull this off." And then she waves goodbye to Caroline and leaves.

Caroline Forbes wakes up to a sharp noise that night, so loud she's jumped out of the bed and is by Damon's door before she even realizes what she's done. She hesitates. Damon told her to never enter his room without permission and she held her promise, until now. Sliding the door open, she peeks inside and sees Damon, on his side, his legs somewhat bend towards his chest. She thinks that if he could move them properly he'd be curled up in on himself by now. She walks closer when he groans.

She's about to call his name when she notices the droplets sliding down his face. He is biting his lower lip, his hands wrapped around his abdomen as if to protect it and crying. Caroline is left stunned. What can she do now? Damon is crying the thought repeats itself in her mind. She bites her own lip. A whimper. A shiver. A moan of pain. A gasping breath. A sob. Caroline makes up her mind, consequences be damned. She can't leave him alone like this.

Caroline moves around the bed, sits down on the empty side and then lays down, her head cushioned on the pillow resting on the headboard. She inhales. Slowly, without waking him, the blonde turns him around until he's facing her, his legs now straightened. She takes another deep breath. Caroline then puts one hand underneath his head and the other takes his arm. She lets the moment hover like this for a few more breaths. Carefully she pulls his arm around her waist and his head to rest on her chest. He's still crying, but at least he hasn't woken up. She arranges both of them in a comfortable position, feeling the salty tears seep into her t-shirt and his shaky sobs reverberate in her ribs. She soothes him softly, caressing his hair like she saw her mother do and murmuring words reminiscent of what her mom used to say when she woke up from a nightmare when she was younger. He stops crying, his arm tightens around her mid-line and she falls asleep to the sound of his even breath.

Damon won't talk to her anymore. It's been two weeks since she first found him crying in his sleep and, after a few yells that morning, Damon has refused to speak one word to her. It's now July, the sun is beating down on then through the open window which proves to offer little comfort from the heat. Damon is still doing his physiotherapy, now walking more surely, his steps more confident. They haven't heard anything from Ric in a while now. Caroline is getting tired of his childish behavior. She asks him whether he wants to go upstairs or stay here. He says nothing, but wipes his sweat on a towel, balancing his weight on his legs and one arm. Caroline can't take it anymore.

"Why?!" she screams. Damon doesn't look at her. She strides to stand in front of him. "Why are you doing this?! What did I do!?" she waits. For an answer, a snide remark, anything. He is quiet, not even glancing in her direction. She about to storm out – damn him, he can sit on the couch if he wants to, he doesn't need her for that anymore – when he says something. It's not what she's been expecting.

"Why are you doing this?" she is blown away. She's been expecting reproaches about her finding him crying, she expected rage, or insults. He seems... resigned, sad. She shudders.

"Doing what?" she whispers, she can't find the strength to do more. She's been so tired lately, from him, from her near constant fights with Tyler, from the letters and texts she keeps receiving from Klaus. So tired. She doesn't feel 18, she feels a hundred.

"Why are you still helping me? Why have you helped me at all?"

"What are you talking about?!" she can't believe she's hearing this. What did he think, that she'd just leave him here to suffer? Is he insane?

"I've done and said some pretty horrible thinks to you Blondie... Caroline. Why would you help me?" He can't be serious. He brings this up now? Now! When she's finally found her way around it?

"Damon, it doesn't matter now. You're hurt, you need help. I want to help you."

"But why? The things I've done to you. The things I've said. How do you not hate me?"

"I've tried to." She admits quietly, but he can hear it regardless. "I used to do it. When I first turned I wanted to rip into your throat. But then I killed that guy and I understood a bit, the blood lust blinds vampires. Bonnie asked me once what I hated most about being a vampire. I told her it's the blood lust." She paused, led him to the couch and sat down beside him. "She was shocked, you know. She thought that would be the best part. Huh? Figures she'd think that." Damon snorted in agreement. "But even then I hated you a bit, you used me Damon. Hell, you basically raped me." He was silent. "But then I remembered what it felt like when I compelled someone. To have that control over someone like that, especially for a control freak like me – like you – it's intoxicating. I understood it a bit more. I can't forget it, it hurt so much Damon. You took me apart and then put the pieces all wrong, but I could understand it a bit."

"I'm sorry."

She almost doesn't hear it, that's how soft it is. Then the shock hits, the Damon Salvatore just apologized to me hits her without warning. Then tears gather in her eyes, her lips tremble and she bites the lower one to stop herself from crying, it doesn't work. Tears spill over and she turns away from him. They're silent for a few minutes.

"I don't think that. I was pissed when I said it." He admits.

"I know. We're more alike than you'd like Damon." He scoffs in disbelief.

"Yeah, let's not exaggerate." She slaps his shoulder.

"We are!" she exclaims. He sends her a look as if challenging her to prove it. She wipes her eyes. "Well, first, we both know what's like to be second best to someone we care about." He frowns, but doesn't disprove her statement. It's not a lie. "Then we both are slightly more affected if someone says something hurtful, you attack and I cry myself to sleep." Again he is silent. She smiles next. "We both have far better taste in clothes than any of our friends slash family members." He smirks as she laughs quietly. "We hate being alone." She admits in a whisper. "We both care more than we like to let on, we cover it up with a mask – my happiness, your sarcasm – when really we just hurt that much more when we are proven right about people."

"Huh, you thought about this a lot, Blondie."

She smiles at his attempt to deflect and takes his hand in hers. "I hated it, realizing we're maybe not so different. I used to hate it for a long time. You were the evil one, how could I be even a bit like you? But now I can admit we're even the same in our need for control. Face it Salvatore, I'm your female version! Just look at this body!" she laughs as she twirls around to show herself. He laughs a bit too, and then he sobers up again.

"I am sorry Caroline." He says again, this time in a normal voice. God, this thing is making him into Stef- no, don't think it!

"Apology accepted." She tells him, smiling brightly.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. Now come on, you need to sleep and I need a shower. Actually you could use one too. Think you can do it now?" He nods. He can't believe she just forgave him like that.

"Damon?" she calls. He lifts his eyes to hers. "Just don't ever do it again. To me or anyone else. Ever." She's serious and so he does what he can. He tells her "okay" and promises.

"I told you, you could do it!" Bonnie is watching amused from her sit on the armchair, letting her eyes follow the happy dance Caroline is doing around Damon. They'd been arguing for the past two days now that Damon would be able to walk without the bars or anyone else's support. Caroline kept saying he could, but he wasn't so sure. So when they finally decided to test it, they called Bonnie as a referee. She had taken some time away from her mom, unable to stay with her anymore after she found a note saying she was leaving again. She hadn't actually left, but the fact she'd thought about it hurt, so she left Jamie to look after her. She turned her attention back to the two when Liz came through the door, throwing her gun holster and badge onto the table and sent a questioning look towards the witch. Bonnie just shrugged and smiled.

"Fine, Blondie, fine. Now what do you want?" Ah yes, the bet thought the witch again.

"I want..." Caroline trailed off, thinking. "...pasta for dinner. You kept complaining last week that mine were horrible and that you could do sooo much better. Let's see it!"

"Caroline, he must be tired and..."

"Mom, he is fine. Plus he knew what he was getting himself into." The blonde argued her case and from the sigh that Sheriff Forbes gave, the younger vampire had won. Bonnie grinned.

"I agree with Caroline. Let's see what you can do Damon." Bonnie challenged. If the look on the man's face was anything to go by, they were in for a treat tonight. Bonnie relaxed as Caroline squealed in delight and Liz left to change shaking her head. The August sun was slowly descending when the smell of homemade pasta filled the Salvatore Boarding House.

"Damon!" Liz yelled one day as she watched the vampire stumble and fall. He is fine, but she still fusses over him for the next few hours. Caroline has to literally forcefully remove her mother from the house so Damon doesn't end up accidentally on purpose killing her.

"Friends?" Caroline asks a few days before the bet. Damon was reading on the couch when she suddenly appeared from inside the kitchen. It was her attempt at pasta tonight. Damon was dreading it. Every bit of Italian blood in his veins screaming against it, but he still couldn't walk without support so there was little he could do.

"What?" he returns perplexed.

"Are we friends now?"

"Friends?" he can't seem to understand what she wants so she adds to her initial statement.

"Yeah. I mean I don't think we're enemies, I've seen too much of you and you know too much about me to call us acquaintances and let's be honest, we basically live together. Hell, mom acts like she's got a second kid on a good day. So. Are. We. Friends?"

"Blondie... you don't want me as a friend. I don't have any friends." She scoffs, frowning.

"Yes, you do. There's Ric, there's mom and now... there's me" she says it so matter-of-factly that he just stares. "Well?" she pushes, grinning.

"Sure, why the hell not, Blondie!" he smirks. Friends huh?

"Caroline, if you don't stop pulling me I will snap!" Damon says between gritting teeth. He is in front of the front door which is wide open, Caroline is in front of him, holding onto his wrist and pulling. The sun is at midday on a late August day. It's the first time he's stepped outside in nearly four months. He feels as if his legs are about the collapse under him.

"Come on, come on, come on!" she says, laughing madly. He shakes his head. He never thought that he'd ever see this side of Caroline, but now they were friends. He still couldn't believe she's forgiven him some days. He takes a deep breath in and then steps outside. The sun hits his face full on and he has never been happier to feel it as he is now. He has struggled lately with the thoughts of Stefan leaving him to die, so much that the blonde had had to literally pry the information out of him. She had listen as he talked, watching him and nodding, her eyes sometime during it getting blurry – because of her tears or because of his he doesn't know – and by the time he was done, he felt better. She told him that Stefan hadn't known what was happening, that there must be some explanation for it, that he'll call eventually – they're brothers after all – that Elena will call too. She says that once they have found a place to stay they'll send word and that just because they left doesn't mean they cut them out of their lives.

"She changed her mind a few weeks later when she called asking for help. I told her you wouldn't care, but she had had hope. Anyway, there you have it Stefan. Now you know. Leave me alone, or I will find a way to hurt you, human or not!" Damon left, closing the door behind him. Caroline came out of his room a few minutes later – she must have been telling Bonnie what happened – and sent Stefan a look of pure disgust he'd never thought to see on the blonde's face. Stefan can't move, can't breathe. He can't believe what his brother told him just now. He... God, no wonder he hates me. How could I... I'm so sorry Damon. I... Damn it! I should've been there! I should've help him! Why did I... How could I think that he ... I should have been there! He doesn't sleep that night; he can't even stand to sit next to Elena. He doesn't deserve that happiness. He's the monster, not Esther. He is. How could he have abandoned his brother to die?! What is wrong with me?

The Latin translates to: Heal the wounded body. Take the pain away. Stitch the flesh. Nature obey! Hear me, goddess!

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