I get it, guys. It's summer, and why is this weirdo spamming the site with an update a day (or every other day) of her long-ass story when most everyone is busy doing something real?!

It's okay.

This one is for danceswithbutterflies, who is bravely still reading. And for those other few out there still following along. Thanks. :)

...

...

"Another one."

Tyler was half slumped over the counter as the bartender shook his head at him, declining the order.

"You had enough, kid."

Tyler shot him a nasty look, cocking his head to take him in. "Oh ya?" He challenged. "You might want to change your mind or I'll tell the cops that you just served whiskey to a minor."

"What the…"

Triumphantly, Tyler showed the man his ID, his real one this time, and grinned at him as he reluctantly poured him another shot of the burning liquid.

"Last one," the bartender grumbled. "I mean it. Or I'll have to call an ambulance for you and we both don't want that…"

Tyler scoffed, licking his lip. To be quite honest, he didn't care either way anymore. As long as he could just get Vicky's broken skull, her distorted looking face out of his goddamn head. He had tried calling Matt earlier, but then, when he had heard his friend's voice, he had chickened out. Because what was he going to say to him? I saw your dead sister and it was awful? Her face was almost split in half and the smell—

Oh gosh, that smell.

Abruptly, Tyler pushed himself up and off the barstool, stumbling toward the door, barely making it before the contents of his stomach came out, spattering the ground beneath him.

Closing his eyes, he waited for his body to calm down, waited for the nausea to pass, and when it finally did, he was suddenly facing Caroline, all concerned eyebrows and wide eyes.

"Caroline?" Confused, he stared at her, the world swaying under his feet. "What are you doing here?"

That sad frown…

"Oh, Ty. You called me. Left a bunch of cryptic messages, too." She gave him a look that he couldn't decipher. Concern? Annoyance? Pity.

Rolling his eyes at the latter, he wiped his mouth, stalking past her. "Well, I'm sorry. I honestly don't remember what I even said. Didn't mean to waste your time…"

What had he said, though? Oh gosh. His head was beginning to feel awful, and the world was turning a little too damn quickly and Vicky wouldn't stop looking at him.

"I'm sorry, I think I'm…" He was sick again before he could finish his warning, embarrassed when he realized he had thrown up right in front of Caroline.

There was no "yuck" or reproach coming from her, however, and that's when he realized he must have told her more than he should have.

"Let's sit down, okay?" she suggested, softly, and he nodded, because really? He could barely stand anymore. Letting himself sink down on the curb, head between his legs, he sat there, just waiting for the spinning to slow down again.

"I saw Vicky," he suddenly blurted out, only half surprising himself. "I saw Vicky…" And then he couldn't stop himself from freaking crying because it was all too much and he had no idea how to cope anymore. No idea.

…

"Aw. And here I thought you already had a new boy toy with dear Enzo, Caroline?"

She looked up to see Klaus Mikaelson of all people swagger up to where she sat, trying to console a heartbroken Tyler, and all she could do was roll her eyes at him and say, "Not funny, Klaus. Not right now, okay?"

"Why so gloomy? Did you perchance not enjoy the drinks in this quaint little bar?"

"Klaus!" Raising her eyebrows, nodding toward a bent over Tyler, she tried to clue him in to the obvious, that now really wasn't a good time. But of course he didn't seem to care. And how was that possible? He should be shaken up by this whole mess, too! He had lost a brother after all, and his sister had returned a complete wreck. So why was he not with her, with his family, instead of spewing his usual not funny crap.

"Enzo not the jealous type?" He gave her this weird look that made her angrier than it probably should have. Mocking, pouty. For some reason she felt immediately defensive. Like she was doing something wrong. But she wasn't! She and Enzo didn't exactly have a very defined relationship yet, certainly not anything that would warrant jealousy.

Still, Klaus had gotten to her, and suddenly she felt guilty for not being there for Enzo now. For not making sure he'd be okay this first night out of the hospital and back at the Salvatore boarding house.

It was probably way too late now to still go and check on him. Besides. She had Tyler to worry about.

"I should probably go," her friend was saying right then, abruptly wiping his eyes, then getting up and almost falling over if her reflexes hadn't been so good that she jumped up to steady him.

"Oh, I see! Bit of a drinking problem, that one."

"Shut up," Tyler told Klaus, making Caroline cringe. Please don't fight, guys, she pleaded inwardly, then put a hand around Tyler's waist just as her phone vibrated and she caught a glimpse of Stefan's name.

He had texted her… She tried to take a peek, but couldn't quite see, not without letting go of Tyler.

"Stuck in the middle, I see. One boy right here; the other elsewhere, both of them a mess. Your taste in men is impeccable, Caroline."

It was all a play to Klaus, but Caroline wasn't in the mood.

"Pull yourself together, Tyler," Klaus was just saying, sidling over way too close until he was in the other's face.

"Stop it," Caroline hissed.

Klaus smirked at her. "So protective… the mother hen job strangely suits you, love."

"Don't be an asshole, Klaus. Please. Don't provoke him, okay? Not today."

"Aw. Did he have a bit of a hard day? What about the rest of us?!" There was a sudden venom in Klaus' voice that made Caroline stop and think for a moment. Like his facade was about to crack, the cockiness making room for… pain.

Sighing, she shook her head. "I know what you've been through."

"Do you, now?"

"Leave her alone," Tyler suddenly piped up, as if he remembered he was there too, and he sounded like he was getting slowly riled. Caroline gave him a pat. "Just ignore him, okay? Come on, let's get you home."

"I don't want to go home."

"Matt then." She sighed again, frustration building up. She still hadn't been able to read Stefan's message when she noticed the phone in her purse light up again briefly. Another message.

"You're a wanted woman tonight."

"Geez, Klaus. Can you just shut up and maybe help me here? I know you've had a horrible few days, I'm… I'm so sorry you lost your brother, but I… I really need to get Tyler home—

"He found the bodies." There. Out of the blue, Klaus said it. Making Tyler lift his head again, eyes flickering. Klaus' expression had shifted, no trace of a smirk or mirth visible anymore. Just sudden realization and… understanding.

Had he… "You saw it too?"

Oh gosh, Caroline thought. In over her head, she didn't know what to do. Too many people around her needed help and she was just one person. The only one who hadn't personally been affected.

Defeated, she shoved Tyler against her car when they finally got there, Klaus still lingering, and she checked her phone.

~ Could use your help. It's Enzo. ~

~ Think he needs you. ~

~ I'd try Damon, but… ~

She looked up at the sky, seeing a few stars sparkle up above, and all she wanted to do was scream.

…

He didn't normally care about being a good person or doing good things for people, except his family. And, for some reason he didn't even understand himself, for Caroline Forbes.

While he had been stuck in his own moment of horror, of terror, he had gone to that bar to drink himself senseless, hoping Elijah wouldn't notice and come looking for him before the buzz had decently set in. But he had to run into Caroline and her next project, well, he guessed they called it a "friend"... And something had touched him when he had seen her eyes grow darker, more desperate, right there next to her cute little girly car, with her pathetic little friend. (Who wasn't that pathetic, now was he? Kid was just a little ahead of Klaus in terms of getting wasted, and after learning why, he most certainly couldn't blame him.)

With a roll of his eyes, already regretting it, already annoyed that he was going to do this, he took pity on her - and the kid. "I'll get him home," he rasped with a sigh, making her look at him with a startled frown, then disbelieving grin.

She scoffed. "You?! Klaus Mikaelson."

"Trust me, Caroline. I can be nice sometimes too. You were actually the one telling me that one day…"

Her expression changed. She was cautious (he couldn't blame her either.) But he was right, she had always been someone to see a different kind of potential in him, back when he had still lived here, and somehow, that belief now made him want to help her out.

"Was that boy toy one?" He pointed his finger, indicating her phone that she almost furtively shoved back into her purse, glaring at him.

"He's not my boy toy."

Raising an eyebrow, he smirked. "Come on, Caroline. Let me help you this once. I'm sure Tyler and I can be best friends for tonight, and you'll be free to check on the not-boy-toy."

He could see it work behind her facade, could see the inner struggle, while Tyler beside her was too out of it too take notice of pretty much anything. Kid looked positively shaken - almost as bad as the way he felt, and following a sudden instinct, he patted him on the back, pulling him slightly with him.

"Let's go, Tyler. Time to head home," he said, emphasizing the name as if it was just a nickname, making the boy scowl at him before he stumbled along.

"You're bringing me home?" He scoffed, coughed, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Whatever… I don't even—"

Klaus suddenly grabbed his neck, not too harshly but enough to get the boy's attention, and got real close. "See that girl right there? I kind of like her - despite her general taste in men - and she is a little overwhelmed with all you people right now. So I'm trying to do her a favor. You want to do the same? Then let me take you home. - Besides," he paused, taking Tyler in, who was looking slightly more sober again, squinting at Klaus suspiciously, surely not quite trusting him. "I might have a bottle of Scotch to share back at my home, if you don't mind a little detour."

"And I'm to believe that you suddenly—"

"You're not to believe anything, Tyler. But I heard you've been to the cellar…" He clicked his tongue; talking about it was harder than he had expected. "My brother was in there. I want to thank you for getting him back to us."

Tyler's face had changed, a sudden pallor creeping into his features at the mention of the cellar.

"Relax," Klaus was quick to add, "I'm being sincere. So: Thank you." Indicating all of Tyler, he added, "and I get it, I was there too…"

"You… you were there? - You saw…"

They both exchanged a long look, then finally continued walking.

"Are you sure," Caroline called after them, and he shot her a glance, seeing her still fidget uncertainly. Phone in hand, she must have already messaged back her boy toy (not-boy-toy), though. "Tyler? Will you be fine?"

"It's alright, Care. Klaus and I… you just go on your way. Oh and… thank you."

"Of course." She smiled at him, and then turned toward Klaus one last time, her grateful expression making his heart jump slightly.

"Thank you," she mouthed, and he took a half bow, then slowly turned away, suppressing a loud sigh. He'd have rather gone home with her instead. But this wasn't too bad. He could pretend to be a nice guy and had a companion who understood…

…

Damon woke up in a near panic, needing a moment to get the world around him into focus and realize where he was.

Not in the pit, except in his head. Running his hands over his sweaty brow, hissing as the movement aggravated his injuries, he forced himself to exhale slowly. Then take a deep breath.

"That's right," he cajoled himself, "Easy does it."

Of course talking to himself like that wasn't exactly a good sign either. Maybe there was a screw loose in his head somewhere after the last week or so. He looked around in the semi darkness of the room, checking the time on his phone briefly. Barely even two at night. He really should try and sleep.

His gaze fell on the empty bed next to his, and he felt a sudden pang of regret. He hadn't realized before just how much better he had been doing with Enzo as his roommate. When he had woken up in the middle of the night before, a quick look over there had usually done the trick. Sometimes, Enzo had been up, too, and they had joked a little about how pathetic they were and how overrated sleep was these days. He chuckled briefly to himself. Enzo had understood, at least.

But now his friend was already home and thanks to his own stupid lung, he wasn't allowed to leave yet. Had, in fact, gotten "threatened" by Doctor Lu that if he just followed Enzo as he had said he was going to, his lung might collapse and then he'd be back here for even longer - if he didn't die. And he didn't want to die, not after all he had gone through to get back here, to survive.

His throat felt tight. He didn't want to think about it, about the pit. About Casey, or that other guy, or… Jeremy.

Watching helplessly as the first group just went completely crazy down there. He remembered yelling something to them. To Lexi, to Enzo. "Watch out!" "Don't!" To that kid, Joel or whatever his name was, who had lost it, had panicked, setting it all in motion. He couldn't blame the kid. Maybe he even had to thank him because if Joel hadn't done what he did, none of them might have started fighting, and then Damon, too, might have died.

But it was useless to play this game of "what if." Why then couldn't he stop it? Why.

His fingers were faster than the rest of him and he caught himself typing a short message. To Bonnie.

~ You're probably not awake. Moon is pretty tonight, though… ~

A reply came surprisingly quickly.

~ Didn't know you were such a romantic. ~

An instant smile appeared on his face. He didn't even need to think before typing again. ~ Why are you not sleeping. ~

~ Probably just so you'd have someone to talk to. ~

She had used one of those emojis he never used, the weird face with the laughing mouth and squeezed shut eyes, whatever the hell that even meant.

~ Aren't I a lucky one. ~

There was a longer pause this time, and stupidly, he began worrying that he had said something wrong. The lack of intonation sometimes didn't make his usual snark and banter translate too well to text. And he didn't want to screw things up with her. It was stupid, but she really made him feel a little more grounded. Like he wasn't all screwed up. Not just a monster. (He had killed that poor kid in the pit. But he didn't even feel bad about that other guy. The one who had tried to rape Bonnie…)

~ We are, though, right? Lucky. We made it out alive. We're supposed to be the lucky ones… ~

Her text made his throat constrict. She always said the things he himself was thinking. It pained him to know she was so tormented, too.

~ We are, Bon. ~

~ I'm lucky to have you… ~

She sent a heart in reply, nothing else, making Damon wistfully stare at it. Then:

~ Not sure I said it yet: THANK YOU. You saved me that weekend. In more ways than one… ~

It was his turn to be lost for something to reply, his fingers hovering over his phone. An ache spread in his chest, making it even harder to breathe. He wanted to come up with something lighthearted to say. Or something funny, or witty. Instead he settled on,

~ You saved ME, Bonnie Bennett.

He could almost see her, sitting up in her bed perhaps, or maybe cuddled deep into her blanket, laying on her side, phone close to her face so as not to light up the room too much. She had mentioned (admitted, really, flushing slightly) that she had been sleeping with her Grams as of late, ever since the pit. None of them were sleeping well anymore… Maybe she was smiling now, though, a little melancholic, or maybe he was just projecting, because he was definitely smiling to himself, thinking of her.

He was glad they had made it out of there, was glad she hadn't given up, because he was pretty damn sure that if she hadn't pulled it together there toward the end, they would all not be here anymore.

~ I'll let you go, gorgeous. Try and get some sleep. ~

~ You too, Damon Salvatore. Count some sheep. ~

His smile grew momentarily, before it vanished, the bleakness of his room coming back into focus. How was he supposed to go back to sleep? The images would be back the second he closed his eyes. If only he wasn't so alone in here. If he ever admitted to Enzo just how much he missed him right now, the guy would probably never let him live it down.

With a weary sigh, Damon tried to get comfortable, then decided to press the call button. Maybe the nice night nurse would give him another one of her magic sleeping pills.

…

When the door opened just a few minutes later, he had put his chipper front back in place.

"You're a fast one, Cheryl," he started, expecting the matronly blonde woman to make an appearance and startled when he found himself look at his brother instead.

Creases appearing on his forehead, he gave him a hesitant look. Did this mean something had happened?

"Stefan? What brings you here at this beautiful moment?" He probably didn't sound as smooth as he had hoped. "Did you miss me that much? I mean, I would miss me too, but…"

Stefan smiled, shaking his head. "I just thought you could maybe use some company."

Damon's frown grew. "Okay, that's… unexpectedly… brotherly of you? Spit it out, what's going on."

Stefan let himself fall onto Enzo's deserted bed. Briefly Damon wondered whether he'd get another roommate soon and whether he'd be able to sleep at all with a stranger right next to him. (Or maybe, he'd be sleeping in the medical ward of prison by then…)

"It's nothing. I just… I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd go check on you." Something told Damon that that wasn't the whole story.

"Enzo okay? You didn't let him go to his rathole, did you?"

"Nah, man. He's at the boarding house. He's…" Stefan gave a sigh, coming back up a little to look at his brother. "He's not doing so great. I got Caroline to come out for him, and I… I was worried how you are holding up."

That was more truth and honesty, more directness than Damon would have liked, but he figured it was for the best. There was not really a reason to be all evasive and pretend-okay around his brother. Stefan had always been able to read him like an open book. Much to Damon's chagrin.

Looking slightly past Stefan, he nodded. "Thanks, brother. I guess I could use a little distraction…" Then he exchanged a small smile with the younger one, and they both let themselves sink down into their respective beds.

"Cheryl is gonna love you."

"Cheryl?" Stefan shot him a glance. "You and Elena barely broke up—"

Damon laughed. A full blown laugh straight from the diaphragm, making his lungs shoot stabbing pains through his body, forcing him to take shallow breaths until he got himself back under control.

"You alright?" Stefan was grinning, at the same time looking concerned.

"Peachy." Damon was gasping for air just as Cheryl opened the door, poking her head in.

"What in the world is going on in here. Mr. Salvatore?" she inquired with a scolding tone and expression, waddling over to him with her hand held out, handing him his pill. "You know visiting hours are long over, right?"

"Cheryl," he said, putting his best flirty smile on his face, "meet the family. This is my dear brother Stefan."

He gave her a wave, trying not to chuckle. "Nice to meet you, Cheryl."

She raised her eyebrows at Stefan, then looked back at Damon. "Just for tonight I'll pretend I didn't see anything. But tomorrow…" Giving him a pointed look, she handed him a glass of water.

He nodded at her, solemnly. "Okay."

"Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight, Cheryl," they chorused, then broke into a laugh once she was out the door.

It almost felt like old times.

…

When she got to the boarding house, Stefan had texted her again.

~ Went to see Damon. Door's unlocked. ~

For a moment, she got angry at him, upset. If Enzo was really in need of her help, should Stefan have left him alone like that? Besides, maybe a part of her had hoped she could see Stefan, just for a moment? Make sure he was okay?

Huffing, she exited her car and made her way over to the large doors. Briefly she wondered whether she should ring the doorbell. But at three at night? Probably not a good idea. Plus, she wasn't sure Guiseppe Salvatore was home and she'd rather not deal with him if he was.

So she carefully tried the doorknob and when it budged she went straight inside, a different darkness than outside enveloping her in the hallway.

"Enzo," she whisper-called, unsure of where to go looking for him. She remembered that he had a room upstairs, just a little down the hall from Stefan, and decided to check there first. But it was empty, the bed not slept in. She caught herself taking in the room, frowning at how bare it was. No pictures, no books, nothing personal, the sheets a boring gray or offwhite. There was just a large dresser there, and an old oak wardrobe that seemed to overshadow the entire room.

Okay, so not in there, she thought, trying to very quietly walk down the hallway, checking the bathrooms, Damon's room. Nothing. He'd surely not have gone into Stefan's, but despite her certainty, she found herself poking her head in there anyway. To no avail.

Stefan's bed had definitely been slept in. Blanket and pillows still ruffled, it looked almost welcoming and she felt awkward at the thought. Just a little while ago, she had been in an out of that room on a daily basis, and now…

Things had changed so much.

Swallowing, feeling that familiar lump settling back in her throat, she walked out backwards and went back downstairs.

She had noticed that Guiseppe's door had stood wide open, and she wondered about that, now, too. Who left their sons alone in times like these? One son barely back alive after a traumatizing event, the other having suffered a bad loss. But he had never been a very caring father, of course.

"Enzo?" She called out a little louder, feeling more confident now that she wouldn't wake anyone up. Partly she just felt like she had to cut through the silence, at least hear her own voice in this gloomy building.

…

She found him in the kitchen, that heart of the Salvatore home that she had always liked best, too, had always felt the most comfortable in. It was a gorgeous kitchen, and it kind of felt… safe.

He was sitting on the floor, legs bent, back and head leaning against the cabinet behind him, his chin raised so that he spotted her as soon as she was through the door.

Something gave her the feeling that he had chosen his spot wisely. From there, he could overlook the entire kitchen, keep an eye on the open sides. No one would be able to sneak up on him.

"What are you doing here so late, Caroline Forbes?"

She looked at him with a soft half-smile, slowly walking a little closer.

"I couldn't sleep?" she said, both of them knowing how obvious she was being. He raised his eyebrows, lips curling up slightly, before he clenched his teeth and she saw his jaw muscles tense again.

"You and me both, love."

"Can I sit with you?"

He shrugged, which she decided to take as agreement.

"Stefan tell you to come over?"

"Seems like you and him are becoming close friends quickly," she joked, making him roll his eyes as she very cautiously sat down next to him, carefully making sure they weren't touching. Not because she would have minded, she just wasn't sure about him...

"Yeah. BFFs in the making." He chuckled softly. Too shortly.

"He was worried about you, at least."

He didn't look at her when she said it, but hung his head, rubbing his neck with one hand.

"I wish you would have stayed at the hospital a little while longer," she breathed, not sure she had the right to say that, not sure how he'd react, either.

Scoffing, he shot her a glance. His eyes were so sad. It made her sigh in sympathy.

"I couldn't stand the place. Besides. Damon snores, couldn't get a good night's sleep if I tried," he joked, but she didn't bite.

"Unlike here, where you clearly seem to be doing so much better."

"Yeah…" He said it so softly she barely heard him. She really didn't know what to say.

"Have you talked to that therapist they recommended? I know Bonnie did," she tried, and he turned his head to look at her again.

"Not my thing."

"What is your thing, Enzo?" She was growing frustrated again, she could feel it, and she knew she shouldn't. It was too early. But she couldn't help it. "Tell me. Because clearly, you need something. You won't be able to keep going like this, disregarding your own health, not sleeping, sitting here in the kitchen at night, not talking about what happened to you. At least talk to Damon, or… I don't know... Talk to me, please. I'm here. I'm listening. And I promise I won't judge. I meant what I said before, you know I do. I'm still here. And I'm here to stay." She gave him a pointed look, a bit surprised to see him hold her gaze unwaveringly.

"You're too good to be true, love."

She felt herself flush, and was grateful for the very dim light that would keep her secret. (What was it with everyone calling her "love" lately?)

"Let me be there for you. Please."

He chuckled lightly, self consciously looking down again. "I don't know how, Caroline. No one has ever taught me how to talk about things like that."

"Not many people have had to suffer through what you've had to suffer through," she stated drily, hand flying to her mouth when she realized what she had said, and that that was probably not what he had meant.

For some reason, it made him chuckle.

"I'm a mess, Caroline, I don't want to drag you down with me."

"Then don't. Let me help pull you up instead."

There was so much pain in his expression that it was almost unbearable to watch. He was leaning with his head against the cabinet again, and she couldn't help but stare at the steri-strips on his eyebrow and temple.

"I'm too far down." He made that noise again that he had made once before, the noise that told her he was trying his damnedest not to break and failing. Her heart was aching for him so badly. "I shouldn't even be here," he whispered, still staring at her, and very slowly, she moved a tiny bit closer to him, noticing how he warily watched her. Then she gently touched the side of his face, her fingers wandering up, tracing the strips, careful not to touch the wound underneath.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, not expecting an answer, just trying to keep him talking about something.

"If Lexi hadn't tried to help me, she might still be alive." He suddenly grabbed her wrist, making her stop her movement, making her grow still.

"You don't know that."

She saw his throat work as he swallowed, averting his gaze.

"No, I don't. But I'm pretty sure. I just… don't understand why she did it. She didn't even know me all that well. And she's Stefan's friend."

"She is a good person, and why wouldn't she try to help you?"

"Because no one ever does, Caroline. I'm…" He scoffed, not continuing for a long time. Acutely aware of his hand still around her wrist, she tried to relax, to show him that she was here to listen. Because what else could she do? "Damon should have just waited, let that kid end it, kill me, then taken him out. That way all the other stuff wouldn't even have happened, they would have been free to go."

Frowning, she tried to make sense of his words. Tried to remember what she had learned about that weekend, about that pit. A game, groups that had to fight each other to the death until only half of them were still alive. Groups of six. There should have been only three survivors going by that awful logic. But there were four.

Four…

"Damon would never willingly let anything happen to you." She tried to catch his gaze, but wasn't successful. "Enzo. Look at me. Even I know that guy loves you like a brother."

"He shouldn't. He should have let me get killed. Now he's in the hospital, and I… I was so bloody useless. I couldn't save Lexi, I couldn't save Vicky. I should have just done what she did, give up, wait for it to happen, but I… I just bloody couldn't."

Vicky had given up? Caroline had to suppress a gasp at the news. What was she supposed to think about that? Should she tell Matt? (Of course not! Never! He didn't need to know that.)

Focusing on the man before her, she wiggled her arm, making him unlock his grasp and back away so abruptly as if she had stung him. He even completely moved a few inches away from her, eyeing her so warily that she felt the need to appease him with her arms outstretched.

"Neither should you have," she calmly told him, realizing what was going on here. If this wasn't textbook survivor's guilt, she didn't know what was.

"Nobody needs me here, anyway. Nobody would have missed me." He scoffed. "Told you I'm a mess. I'll give you one last chance, love: walk away now, leave me alone. You don't want to get your pretty head wrapped up in all this."

"Too late." She smiled as his gaze finally met hers again. She swallowed, unsure of what to do or say. "I'm already wrapped up. In you…" (Oh hell no, she hadn't just said that, had she? Could the ground please open and swallow her? Coming on a little strong there, Caroline Forbes. Ugh…)

To her utter relief, he didn't say anything in reply. Just showed her the sweetest smile in return. She wasn't sure she had ever seen him smile quite like it before, open, sincere, without any cockiness or mirth. And it made her shyly smile back.

They sat quietly for a while after that, until Caroline could tell how hard it was becoming for him to even stay awake. It was like watching him fight against himself, fight against that spiral of sleep that was trying to drag him under. His nostrils flaring, jaw taut, and chin held high, he hung on, until she wasn't willing to let him anymore.

"Alright. Enzo St. John, it's officially time for you to go to bed," she ordered him, getting up to sit on her haunches in front of him, extending a hand. "Come on, I'll bring you upstairs. I can stay, if you want…" (Another thing she should have maybe not blurted out like that…)

He stared up at her, exhaling slowly, looking defeated amidst the exhausted tiredness.

Frowning, she beckoned him. "Come on. You look like you're about to keel over at any moment. Wouldn't you rather it be in your bed instead of the kitchen?"

It seemed to be a huge effort for him when he finally quietly admitted, "My feet are killing me. I don't think I want to walk…"

"Oh." She swallowed, feeling awkward and awful as her gaze fell on his still thickly bandaged feet. Other than about a headache, he hadn't much complained about any of his injuries to her so far, not when he first came to her, not at the hospital, not ever. Which might be why she had completely forgotten about them until that moment. Biting her lip, she tried to think. "Okay," she announced, "Not a problem. How about I go and get your blanket and pillow and we'll just, uh… camp out here for tonight." She looked at him triumphantly, then nodded to herself. "Just give me a minute."

"Caroline…"

She raised a finger, putting it to her lips. "Just a minute. I promise I'll be right back," she whispered, and off she dashed, up the stairs, to his room, grabbing his blanket and sheet, wrapping all the pillows she found in them, too, before she began hauling it all back down the stairs.

"Ta da!" She made, like this was some fun get together, like Stefan hadn't texted her to come check on Enzo because even he had been worried about the guy.

The poor guy's smile was wan at best, and when Caroline draped out the things she had brought, he didn't even protest or make a comment or… anything, making her frown at him in worry.

"It's okay, you know?" she assured him. "You can sleep. If you want I can stay up and…" What, watch over him?

Yes, exactly that. She would watch over him. He didn't move. Just sat there as if frozen, staring at her with his head half turned away, then he shook his head. "I can't…"

"But you will." She sighed, sitting in front of him again, reaching out to cup his face. "Your body is gonna give out on you, Enzo, any minute now. You can't keep this up."

His features crumbled slightly, fatigue making his walls come crashing down, despite his obvious efforts to keep it together. "I have to."

"No you don't. Come on." She gently tugged at him, making sure she didn't get his injured arm.

"Someone's gonna have to look out for them…" (What?) His eyes, dark and intense, stared at her, almost through her, and it dawned on her what was happening. He wasn't quite with her anymore, was he? He was back in the pit.

"It's okay, Lorenzo. They're alright. Stefan is with Damon, Bonnie with her Grams, Rebekah has her brothers, and you… you have me. Just close your eyes and I'll be here." She pulled him closer to her, surprised that he let her, then, when his body finally sank against hers, his breathing going from slightly erratic to calmer, she sank back against the cabinet, just holding him.

Until hours later her eyes, too, fell shut as if of their own accord, her arms still tightly wrapped around him.

...