Fallen
Chapter Fourteen
Hey, remember when I said an update would be coming quickly? And hey, remember when it didn't? Yeah, I'm a loser. But, we have the longest chapter yet this time, and it was such a blast to write, so I'm hoping you all enjoy it. Give a massive wave of thanks to my beta team-Katie, Becky and Miranda, who are really the sole reason any of these chapters get written, so make sure to give them hugs and love. They're the best.
Onward, jolly readers!
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"Hey Matt, the booze train is looking awful bare. Is it cool to go ahead and open another case or two?"
Matt glanced up from the paperwork in his hands, his eyes darting towards the partially stocked bar before returning to the bartender that was pointing towards the stockroom. He nodded, motioning for him to carry on, and stepped up towards the bar, sliding his clipboard onto the countertop. Resting his elbows on the counter, he ran his hand through his hair, blue eyes perusing the latest round of bills and expenses the Mystic Grill had accrued, the chatter of the late afternoon crowd a dull hum in his ears.
The stool being pulled out in front of him drew his attention, and he glanced up to see April Young smiling at him as she slid into her seat. He returned her smile as she settled in, placing her bag in front of her and shrugging out of her coat.
He'd always liked April. Yes, he'd found her a little naive and sometimes sheltered, but considering her father was the fanatic Pastor Young whose bible thumping and conspiracy theories were legendary during high school, he didn't hold it against her. She'd been a couple years behind them in school, and he'd lost count of the times Caroline had teased him about her puppy dog eyes following him everywhere they went.
At the thought of his sister, Matt felt his smile slip. He hadn't heard from Caroline for a few weeks. He honestly didn't know if he was more worried or relieved. But as April grinned up at him, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as he straightened to his full height.
"Hey, April," he said, sliding his clipboard to the side and flattening his hands on the bar. "Haven't seen you around for awhile."
April nodded. "Yeah. The work of a police chief's executive assistant is never done," she said with a laugh. "I came home to see my dad. But he's busy working on his sermon for Sunday, so I figured...food."
Matt laughed. "Food is always good. Let me grab you a menu."
He could feel her eyes on him as he reached below the bar, coming back up with one of the laminated booklets, and he sat it in front of her with a smirk. He watched her fiddle with the cover, her big blue eyes darting down to it and back to him, and he waited for her to say whatever he knew was on the tip of her tongue.
"So...how are you doing? You know...with Caroline still gone?"
Matt hesitated, the smirk slipping from his face. It'd been months since Caroline had left, and while at first he got a lot of questions-after all, when the picture perfect wife of the picture perfect couple leaves without a word, it's quite the cause for discord in a small community-no one had really mentioned it in quite a while. Other scandals had taken precedence-the high school principal's affair with the guidance counselor, betting in the athletic department...Caroline had eventually faded to the background, which had really been the plan all along.
He glanced up at her, offering a half hearted shrug. "Okay, I guess," he said with a grin and a shake of his head. "I mean…I miss her. But, you know, she's working through whatever she needs to, and I guess I can only hope she'll come back when she does."
That had been their plan—deniability. Caroline had told him—begged him—to just play dumb when it came to her leaving. "Tyler will automatically think you helped me get away," she'd told him as she'd sat in the passenger seat of his pick up truck outside the bus terminal, her newly blonde hair tucked under the knit cap she'd pulled low on her head. "I can't let you get hurt because of me, Matt."
They'd woven the tale that he would play the abandoned brother, hurt and confused as to her disappearance and still completely in the dark about the monster that was his own brother-in-law. "Don't go after him, Matt. Promise me."
It had taken everything in him to make that promise to Caroline. He'd wanted nothing more than to storm into that house and finish what she'd started, make him feel every ounce of pain she must have. He wanted to look into his best friend's eyes and demand how he could have hurt the most important person in the world to him, when he'd trusted him to love and cherish her all those years ago.
But he'd taken one look into Caroline's lost and scared eyes, and he'd pulled her into his arms, murmuring his promise in her ear.
Feeling April's eyes still on him, Matt shook out of his reverie, shrugging again as he reached for his clipboard once more. "Anyway, I'm good. Hanging in there."
April nodded, smoothing down the curve of her ponytail. "Tyler seems to be taking it all pretty hard, huh?"
Matt bit back the scoff that lied on the tip of his tongue, masking his disdain with a shrug and a smirk. "I wouldn't know," he said, his eyes scanning the inventory log in front of him but not seeing a word. "Tyler and I don't really...hang out anymore."
"Yeah, I've noticed," April commented, her fingers curling around the edges of her menu. She smiled when he glanced up at her. "You, Tyler and Caroline...I mean, you guys were like...the Golden Trio in high school. And even afterwards, I mean…" She sighed, shrugging. "I don't doubt that Caroline leaving to deal with whatever she's going through hasn't been hard on you just as much as it has been on him, but...you know, he needs someone on his side too."
"His side?" Matt laughed. He shook his head, tossing his clipboard to the side and resting his hands on the bar top. He could hear the disbelief in his voice, the sheer disdain, and by the way April's brow furrowed as her blue eyes blinked up at him, he knew she could as well. He wanted to shake it off, to mask it all, but all he could see was Caroline smiling through the pain of a broken rib or Tyler wrapping his arm around her waist, tugging her just a little too roughly against him.
All he could see was all the times he failed her, when he should have been protecting her from the monster at HER side.
April was staring at him, a frown tugging at her lips. "Yes, Matt. His side. I get that she's your sister and the two of you are super close, but she's Tyler's wife. I mean, his world is crumbling down around him, and he's all alone."
"April, the only reason Tyler is alone is because he's a dick." A dick who beats his wife, he added silently.
"Matt, look, I get it. Tyler's your friend but Caroline's your sister. You're on her side no matter what, and that's great that, you know, the two of you have each other and Caroline is with your uncle working through it all, but Tyler doesn't have anyone. He could use his best friend, you know?" She sighed, blinking up at him in sympathy. "I know you're hurt. And confused, I mean, how could you not be? But Tyler, he's...heartbroken. He got abandoned too, you know?"
Matt frowned at the sound of judgement he heard in April's voice when she referred to Caroline, and it only deepened when he caught onto her first comment. Uncle? "What?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"
April blinked at him, her blue eyes wide. "Um," she stammered, flustered. Matt's eyes were boring into her, imploring, and she sighed. "I know that Caroline is staying with your uncle in Louisiana. An officer in New Orleans called the station, something about a conflicting report about Caroline's disappearance or something."
Matt's chest was tight, so tight he could barely breathe. "What do you mean a conflicting report?"
April shrugged. "Tyler was getting desperate I guess-and I mean, who could blame him? So I guess he made up some kind of missing report or something and sent it out over the airwaves. I mean, he technically wasn't doing anything wrong. He didn't know where she was so…" She shrugged again. "Anyway, that officer called and Alaric was livid. Tyler wasn't fired, but…"
Matt could barely comprehend what she was saying through her entire rambling, his mind racing with the startling information she had just let slip. He tried to keep the panic from his face, but all he could think about was the fact that it was all over. Caroline was exposed-Alaric knew where she was. April knew where she was.
His eyes glanced up at April's face again, noting the flash of confusion that was clouding her pretty features. His knuckles were white as they gripped the edge of the counter, his shoulders hunched as he leaned in closer to April. "New Orleans? April, please tell me you didn't tell Tyler."
April scoffed, smiling. "Matt, he had a right to know." She gasped when Matt's hand shot out, grabbing onto her own folded ones on the bartop. His grip was tight and nearly bruising, and her her eyes were wide as she snapped her gaze up to him. "Jesus, Matt, what's your problem?"
"April, tell me Tyler doesn't know Caroline is in New Orleans."
She tried to wrestle her hands free, gritted her teeth against the sting of his grip. "She's his wife!"
"Damn it, April, he's going to kill her!" Matt yelled, ripping his hand away from hers as he spun on his heel and tore around the bar. His feet were pounding against the floor as he raced for the door, April's voice echoing after him, but her cries fell on deaf ears.
He had to get to New Orleans.
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Tyler's head was throbbing behind his tinted sunglasses, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he leaned back in his seat. Sweat beaded his brow, the steady stream from the AC doing little to dull the sweltering heat of the southern city.
His back was stiff and aching from the car ride. He'd managed to shave the sixteen hour trip down to fourteen, breaking nearly every traffic law in existence, his anger and rage driving him mile for mile. He'd broken the city line just after daybreak, his eyes aching and dry, the stale taste in his mouth bitter from the coffee and alcohol he'd been chugging to stay awake.
His eyes were scouring the already busy street as he sat parked across the street from the New Orleans Police Station. He'd driven into town and realized he didn't have the slightest idea where to start looking. Damn his conniving, betrayer of a wife.
He'd cruised down the street, his eyes taking in every disdainful inch of this city, until he'd found the ancient building on Broad Street. If he was going to start anywhere, it would be here. Caroline had obviously gone to the police at some point, had put her trust in someone that worked within those walls.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel as his mind drifted to thoughts of just how much his wife was trusting some no account officer of the NOLA PD.
He'd been parked in the same spot for nearly three hours, his eyes glued to the entrance of the building, every now and then moving to peruse the busy streets around him. The crowds were never ending, the chatter and the music. His lip curled at the sight.
Caroline hated big cities. She hated crowds. She hated being the center of attention-it had been like pulling teeth to get her to accompany him anywhere that wasn't Mystic Falls. She would flinch and curl into herself, barely speaking a word. She felt suffocated, she would tell him, surrounded by so many people, but then that smile would spread across her face with just one look from him, and she was the picture of a perfect socialite wife.
Of course he wouldn't think to look for her here.
He sighed as he leaned his head back, pushing his sunglasses up to his forehead as he rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his fingers. The seat creaked beneath him as he shifted, reaching for the thermos that sat in the cupholder. His fingers barely closed around it when his eyes caught a flash of blonde hair hurrying from the building. He froze, his eyes fixed on the slender blonde that was rifling through the purse hanging at her side.
Caroline.
He stared at her, watching her back as she shifted. It was her. He could tell by the familiar shuffling of her feet, the way she tilted back on her heels before running a hand through her hair and starting down the sidewalk.
Tyler quickly grabbed the keys from the ignition, shouldering open the door to the car and climbing out. His footsteps were lost in the music and laughter as he sprinted across the street, keeping Caroline in his sights. He trailed behind her, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He made sure to keep a few feet between them, not wanting to tip her off to his presence just yet. The streets were crowded, filled with tourists and performers, and he had no doubt she would cause a scene if he were to approach her then. He needed to get them somewhere they could be alone, somewhere they could talk things out.
Somewhere he could convince her how stupid she'd been to leave him.
Ahead of him, Caroline turned a corner, and he picked up his steps. Her hips were swaying beneath the fabric of her dress, and his brow furrowed even while his lip curled in disdain. She dressed nothing like she had when she'd been with him. Apparently, gone were the form fitting jeans, the snug tops and the flowing baby doll dresses he'd always admired her in. She dressed like a grandmother now, he couldn't help but think as he watched the horse printed blue dress flow around her legs.
She had truly tried to escape him.
He kept her in his sights as they maneuvered through the crowd, his steps only slowing with hers, and his eyes cast a curious glance at the brick building she'd stopped in front of. Fluorescent signs hung in the windows, proclaiming the various boozes that could be found inside, and loud music poured from the doors, the familiar strains of an old rock ballad reaching his ears.
He frowned as he watched Caroline dig a worn apron from within her bag, tossing it over her arm as she grabbed the handle of the door. A bar...she was working in a bar.
He gritted his teeth as he took a step forward. All the years he'd spent, working his ass off day after day, to make sure she never had to work for anything. The long overnight shifts, the early mornings, to provide her with the best of everything...and she stooped so low as to work in some hole in the wall bar?
He moved towards her, slowly closing the distance, and he lifted his chin when a passerby shouted a friendly hello at her, his eyes zeroing in on her face as she turned-
And his steps faltered when the blue eyes and smile that greeted him were those a stranger.
Tyler stopped, cursing under his breath as he ducked into a small crowd that gathered around a saxophone player. His mind blocked out the bluesy music as he glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head as he watched the woman he'd been following smile and laugh with the older man who had called out to her.
He cursed himself for his stupidity, looking at her now and wondering how he could have ever mistaken him for Caroline. The woman had at least an inch on his wife, and at least a year or two. She was thinner, but with broader shoulders, and her hair lacked the familiar bounce and fluff that he'd always enjoyed in Caroline's long tresses.
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he watched her wave to her friend and disappear into the bar.
He was back to square one, he realized with disdain as he turned away from the street performer. And his headache was back, the pounding in the head making him wince. His eyes traveled to the bar once more, and he shrugged as he made his way towards the door. He may as well drink to his failure while he was here. He still had quite a bit of city to explore, and the day was still young.
He pulled open the door, shifting his sunglasses to the top of his head as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting. The bar itself was more of a bar and grill, he realized as he perused the tables packed with dining couples and families. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Caroline lookalike disappear into a back room, and he scoffed beneath his breath as shuffled towards a secluded end of the bar. He nodded in greeting the middle aged man who was manning the bar, ordering a scotch on the rocks as the pulled himself onto a stool.
He dropped his head into his hands even as a tumbler was slid in front of him, and he let out an agitated sigh as he gripped the glass and brought it to his lips.
And that was when he heard it.
That familiar, high pitched laugh. That laugh that made everyone smile, unbidden, every time they heard it.
Her laugh.
Tyler's head snapped up, his eyes frantically scouring the busy tables and secluded corners, praying his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him, because he'd know that laugh anywhere. His gaze searched every face, every single form they caught sight of, none of them sparking with recognition, and then he saw her.
Caroline.
Tucked away in a back booth, squeezed in between another couple and little boy, her head thrown back in laughter, and something tightened in his chest. It was her. Her hair was shorter, and that dreadful shade of blonde, but it was her. He stared at her, watching as her bright blue eyes danced, sparkling even from where he sat. She was shaking her head with a bright smile as she talked with the couple next to her. He watched her wave her hands in the air as she spoke, his eyes barely registering the other occupants of the table.
All he could focus on was his wife, his Caroline, right there in front of him after all these months. His relief at finally finding her was mixed with his rage as he watched her laugh and converse. She looked happy, so happy, and he couldn't comprehend how that was even possible. How she could appear to be so unaffected by being away from him…
His eyes shifted as a new presence joined their small group, and his grip around his glass tightened as he watched the man slide in next to Caroline. His teeth gritted when she turned to him, her entire face lighting up as she greeted him with a smile.
Tyler watched as the man spoke quietly to her, reaching up and brushing her hair off her shoulder, and then he was leaning into her, pressing his lips to hers.
And all Tyler saw was red.
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"If the two of you are so intent on snogging at the table, at least get a separate one. I am trying to eat here."
Caroline rolled her eyes as she pulled away from Klaus, settling back against the booth as she looked across the table. "You know, you're the one who crashed our lunch, so you have no one to blame but yourself," she told Kol as she reached for a french fry from her plate. The weight of Klaus' arm settled around her shoulders, and she smiled and leaned into him.
"Well, of course I did," Kol proclaimed, talking around his mouthful of cheeseburger and ignoring the scolding Bonnie was giving him with her glare. "Given your recent record, the two of you are three steps away from public fornication. Someone has to make sure young Declan's mind remains unscarred and unmarred, isn't that right, Deck?"
He nudged the towheaded boy with his elbow, but Declan only shrugged half heartedly, his attention fixated on his chicken fingers as he slowly tore them to pieces on his plate.
Klaus and Caroline exchanged a frown as they glanced at each other before looking back the boy, watching as he slumped over his plate.
"What's with the long face, mate?" Kol asked. "You're finally getting to go to one of the grownup parties you're always wanting to go to. Granted, not one of the fun ones, considering it's at your dolt of a father's art studio, but still."
"You've been awful quiet this afternoon, son," Klaus commented quietly, tilting his head in the boy's direction.
Declan shrugged again, dropping his uneaten food to his plate. Caroline reached out and smoothed his hair back from his face, frowning when she felt how warm his face was. "You're a little hot, buddy, are you feeling okay?" Declan only shook his head, his lower lip quivering slightly, and he ducked beneath her arm and snuggled against her side, burying his face in her stomach beneath the table.
"I guess not," Klaus chuckled, reaching over and running a comforting hand along his son's back, smiling softly as he watched Caroline murmur to him quietly as she leaned down towards him. He sighed as he settled back into the booth, reaching for the cell phone that sat next to his plate. "I suppose Dean will just have to head up the street showing tonight."
Caroline looked up at him, shaking her head. "Oh, Klaus, no. You've been working for weeks on the showing tonight," she said with a frown, her hand continuing its soothing movements along Declan's back. She glanced down at him, biting her lower lip as she ran her fingers through his hair. "You know, I can just stay home with him and you can still go."
"Caroline," Klaus sighed.
"No, seriously. You've worked way too hard to not see this thing through, and it's fine," Caroline replied with a smile, glancing down at Declan who had turned his head to peer up at them. "Declan and I will just have a good old fashioned movie night, with chicken soup and saltines. It'll be just as fun, right, buddy?" He shrugged against her, and she laughed, leaning down and brushing her lips against the crown of his head.
"We may have to redefine your definition of 'fun', darling," Kol said with a roll of his eyes. He winced against the elbow Bonnie jammed in his side. "What? I'm not saying movie night with Deck won't be fun, but he's the coolest lad to walk these streets," he said, reaching over and shaking his nephew's Nike covered shoe, eliciting a giggle from the boy. "I just mean, Caroline, that it's your first Mardi Gras. You should experience it in all it's glory!"
"Kol, it's not like it's a one day celebration," Bonnie said next to him, lifting her straw to her lips, watching Klaus and Caroline with a fond smile.
"It's the principle of the thing, darling."
Klaus rolled his eyes as the couple continued to bicker across the table, and leaned in towards Caroline, brushing his lips against her temple. "You're sure you don't mind?" he murmured, raising a brow when she looked up at him.
Caroline smiled, tilting her head to brush her lips against his. "I don't mind at all," she said quietly, leaning against him as she looked back down at the boy in her.
Klaus settled back in his seat, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket as he watched the woman at his side whisper soothingly to his son.
It never ceased to amaze him how easily it came to her-motherhood. And he could admit at this point that that's the way he saw her; the way he hoped she saw herself. The bond between Caroline and Declan had been there since the afternoon they'd met. Somewhere between learning each other's names and rapid fire facts about sloths, something had sparked between the two, and he'd watched in amazement as it seemed to blossom every day since. Caroline had begun to fill a role he'd always feared Declan would realize he didn't have.
He wanted her by his side forever, he realized in that moment.
He smiled, chuckling softly beneath his breath, and pressed a kiss to Caroline's temple, burying his face in her hair as he ran an affectionate hand over his son's head.
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From his corner of the secluded bar, Tyler watched as the small group began to gather their things and rise from the booth, the tall blonde man—the one who'd had his hands all over HIS wife—tossing down a few bills on the table before kissing Caroline and gathering the child between them into his arms. He tried not to snarl when he caught the soft, sentimental expression of Caroline's face as she watched them. Children had been the one thing he'd ever denied her. He detested children—they were dirty and loud and demanded attention at all times. He'd wanted nothing to do with them, even when Caroline had expressed a desire in it.
Had that been what drove her away?
He slunk further in the shadows as the other couple that had been sitting with them made their way towards the door. He ducked his head—to any passerby he would just seem like a day drunk focusing on his drink, but he kept his eyes on Caroline and the other man, watching with a hard gaze as they spoke to each other quietly before Caroline gathered up her purse and pointed towards the back room of the establishment.
He watched as they parted, the man and boy heading for the door and Caroline making her way through the crowds towards the door the other blonde he'd been following suddenly emerged from, her blonde hair pulled back off her face and the burgundy apron cinched snugly around her waist. She smiled when Caroline approached, and Tyler eyed them as they conversed, catching a familiarity between the two of them that had his interest piqued. They were friends, he'd realized. Even coworkers, perhaps, as he noted the confidence with which Caroline navigated the bar. They were laughing, conversing, and then Caroline was enveloping the older woman into a quick embrace, murmuring a goodbye before hurrying towards the door where the other man still waited.
Tyler's jaw clenched when Caroline laced her fingers with his free hand, reaching up to ruffle the boy's hair affectionately as he clutched at his father's neck. They disappeared out into the afternoon, a perfect little family he thought with a sneer. He clenched his fingers around his glass, slowly switching his gaze back to the blonde who'd positioned herself behind the bar with a smile.
He lifted his glass to his lips, tossing back the amber liquid with a wince.
Perhaps he wasn't at such a dead end after all.
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"Dean says he has everything just about set up," Klaus said, poking his head around the bedroom door and eyeing the two occupants nestled in the center of his bed. Declan was wrapped up in the poofy duvet, his head resting against a nest of pillows, brown eyes glued to the television as animated toys raced to and fro across the screen. Caroline sat stretched out next to him, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt from his university days and a pair of snug yoga capris that left her lithe calves on display. She looked over at him as he spoke, and a sigh of regret slipped past his lips, the scene before him much more appealing than the night that lied ahead of him. "Perhaps I should beg off tonight, love."
Caroline rolled her eyes, slipping her arm from around Declan's shoulders as she quickly crawled across the bed, jumping to the floor and padding towards him. "You're going," she stated, slipping her arms around his waist as he wrapped his around her, lacing his fingers together at the small of her back. "This is a big night, Klaus. You've been putting it together for weeks, and it's a huge thing for Sophie and Greta and their art. Declan and I will be perfectly fine, and will be here waiting for you when you come back."
Klaus sighed, glancing across her shoulder towards his son. "And when you catch whatever he has and are lying sick in our bed, I won't hear the end of how I left you alone on your first Mardi Gras celebration," he teased, gently swaying them from side to side as he smirked down at her.
Caroline giggled, capturing her lower lip with her teeth as she peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. "Well, if I get do get sick, then you'll just have to play doctor and nurse me back to health, won't you?"
Klaus laughed at the quiet, seductive tone of her voice, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers, sighing when her hands slid up his chest and slipped beneath the open collar of his shirt. "Mmm, perhaps we'll have to play doctor either way," he murmured, smiling when she giggled and pecked his lips once more.
"Promises, promises," she sang, shooting him a wink as she slipped from his arms and crawled back onto the bed, resuming her spot next to Declan. She smiled, tilting her head. "Go on. Go be brilliant and sophisticated. We'll be here when you get home."
His chest swelled at the word "home" slipping from her lips, smiling as he nodded, and he crossed the room to the bed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Declan's forehead. His son snuggled further into the blankets, peeking up at him, and he was rewarded with a dimpled smile that was so similiar to his own. He chuckled, ruffling his hair affectionately, and looked at Caroline over the top of his head. "I'll see you in a few hours."
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Cami sighed as she slid an ancient bottle of whiskey back to its place on the top shelf, settling back onto her heels as she wiped her hands on her apron. The sound of trumpets and excited cheering thundered outside the door of the empty bar, the celebration well underway as she cast a furtive glance at the clock on the wall. Stefan's break from his street patrol was in less than twenty minutes, and she'd been promised a traipse through the art fair before he would disappear for the rest of the night.
She couldn't help but smile as she tugged at the knotted apron strings at her back. For all the complexity of their relationship-the question of were they or weren't they always lingering in the back of her head-she always loved the little hints of romance and sincerity Stefan showed her now and then. Every little act or gesture had her convinced that maybe he cared for her just as much as she did for him, regardless of his nonchalance when it came to defining just what they were.
The sound of the door swinging open behind her drew her attention, and she glanced over her shoulder, throwing the newcomer a polite smile. "I'm sorry, but we're closed," she called out, finally freeing the knot at her back.
The man that had entered continued on his path towards her, nodding in acknowledgement of her words as he glanced behind him. "Man, it sure get pretty wild out there, huh?" he asked with a laugh. "I've heard Mardi Gras is something else but...that's
something else."
Cami nodded, folding her apron and placing it onto the bartop before folding her arms over it. "Yeah, it's something to experience," she answered with a smile. "Like I said, the bar is closed, but if you're looking for a drink or some good gumbo, there's a few places further into the Quarter that are running some great specials for the celebration."
The man shook his head as he came up to the bar, his brow eyes shifting around the room as he reached into his back pocket. "Oh, I'm not here for a drink, miss. I'm actually hoping you can help me with something." He pulled a wallet and piece of paper from his pocket. "I'm a detective with the Raleigh Police Department," he declared, flipping open the wallet and flashing some kind of a badge to her, though he snapped it shut before she could focus on it.
Cami frowned, shifting on her feet. "Raleigh, huh? Far from home."
The dark haired man nodded, slipping the wallet back into his pocket before slowly unfolding the sheet of paper. "Yeah. I've actually been looking for someone, and a few leads have led me to, uh, your fine city," he grinned. He cleared his throat as he took a step forward, sliding the paper across the bar towards her. "Tell me, Camille," he asked, taking note of her nametag. "Have you seen this woman?"
Cami glanced down at the paper, her brow furrowing when Caroline's face smiled up at her. It was an altered image, the blonde hair seemingly cut and pasted onto a photo, but it was Caroline. Her eyes quickly took in the police alert, noting the bolded letters boasting murder and dangerous, and she quickly pressed her lips together to mask her frown of confusion. This was a legitimate wanted alert-she'd seen dozens of them during her visits with Stefan at the station, pinned to the cork board behind his desk. But to see Caroline's face on one was throwing her for a loop, a niggle of doubt pulling at the back of her mind.
She thought back to that day weeks ago when she'd come back to the bar after grabbing lunch to see an enraged Klaus storming from the building and a hysterical Caroline inside of it. She had barely gotten a word out of the blonde before she'd torn through the door, leaving her baffled and concerned. She'd asked Stefan about it that night, asking if Klaus had said anything to him about the argument they'd had. Stefan had explained that there had been a misunderstanding. Caroline was trying to escape a bad situation, and some conflicting information had caused a bit of a hiccup. He'd refused to divulge anymore information than that, and she'd trusted that eventually Caroline would come to her with the whole story, but she'd understood that the younger girl was trying to run from something-or someone-dangerous.
Cami's fingers slid along the edge of the paper as she glanced up at the detective. His dark eyes were watching her intently, taking in every expression that crossed her face. He was leaning against the bar, his fingers gripping the edges, his knuckles white with their grip. Looking at him more closely, she saw that his face was flushed, a light sheen of sweat gleaming against his skin. His eyes were glassy, blinking frequently, and her mind flashed to the dozens of faces she'd witnessed in the throes of drunkenness during her years working behind the bar. There was a slight tick at his right eye, and his teeth continually gnawed at his lower lip as he watched her.
A warning sign went off in her head.
She cleared her throat, shifting on her feet as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, she doesn't look familiar," she lied, sliding the paper back towards him as she forced her stare to meet his.
His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips pulling into a thin line. "You don't know her? Haven't seen her around...maybe in the bar?"
Cami stood her ground, shrugging as she shook her head, her fingers tightening in the fabric beneath her hands.
The man stared at her for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh, sliding the wanted poster into his hand. "Listen, Camille. I understand that this can be intimidating...but this woman is dangerous. She's wanted back in Virginia for murder and assault, among other things." He raised his brows as she continued to stare at him. "Now, I know she's in New Orleans, and I know she's been spotted here in the Quarter. She might be going by an assumed name; an alias. Using a fake social security number, fake ID. It's very important that I find her, so if you're lying to me...if you're scared or trying to protect her…"
Cami smiled at him, laughing. "Detective, honestly, if I knew who she was or where you could find her, I'd tell you."
He tapped his fingers against the bar. "You haven't seen her come in the bar at all?"
"I'm a bartender, and it's Mardi Gras. I see a million faces, and I'm sure you can understand how they tend to blur after awhile. But her face isn't familiar." She tilted her head, smiling at him apolgetically even as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. "I'm sorry I can't help you."
She watched as his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, before his chest heaved with a sigh and he lowered his head. "It's fine," he said, looking back up at her with a half smile as he folded the paper back up and slipped it into his pocket. "At least you're aware now. You've seen her face, so if she happens to come in, don't hesitate to call the local department, okay?" She nodded, keeping her smile firmly in place as she tried not to squirm under his gaze. His hand tapped against the bar as he took a step backwards. "Thank you for your time, Camille. Maybe you should finish closing up shop, go out and enjoy those festivities. It sounds like a party."
She nodded again. "Sure thing, detective."
She watched as he shot her a smile as he turned on his heel, striding towards the door with heavy steps. She didn't take her eyes off of him until his hand had closed around handle, the sounds from the street pouring in as he pulled the door open. As he moved to step outside, Cami turned towards the stockroom, pulling her cellphone from her dress pocket as she slipped through the door.
Her fingers punched in the security code, the picture of her pressing a kiss to Stefan's cheek greeting her as the phone unlocked, and she quickly pulled up the keyboard, scrolling through her recent calls until Stefan's number appeared on the screen.
The door to the stockroom flew open behind her, and she let out a startled scream as she whirled around. The phone was knocked out of her hand as she was shoved backwards, a strong hand wrapping around her throat as another pressed bruisingly at her waist. Pain radiated through her body as her back collided with metal shelving against the wall, her cry for help cutting off when the fingers around her throat tightened.
Her eyes were wide with fright as she stared up at the detective's manic face, her fingers hands clawing at his arms as she tried to fight him off.
Tyler's mouth was turned up in a sneer, his breath hot against the bartender's face as he leaned in towards her, his forehead almost brushing hers.
"Now...how about we try this again?"
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"Do you think it'd be fun to turn into a llama?"
Caroline laughed as she turned her attention away from the television and towards the figure lounging against her, his tiny hands holding tightly to his glass of Ginger Ale. Declan's face was turned down in a curious frown even as his brown eyes continued to watch the cartoon unfold.
"I don't know," she said, smiling as she popped another cracker into her mouth. "Llamas are kind of gross, you know. They're stinky and dirty. And they spit, which is even more gross."
Declan giggled, peeking up at her, and she smiled.
"Besides, we both know you'd much rather be turned into a sloth, Deck."
"Man, that would be so cool," he said with a sigh, tilting his head back so he could take another swallow of his drink. "I wouldn't have to go to dayschool, or take a bath, or do anything but just lie around all day."
Caroline laughed, running her fingers through his hair.
"What kind of animal would you want to turn into?"
She hummed, resting her chin on top of his head. "Maybe a bird...so I could fly anywhere I wanted to, anytime I wanted. Or, you know, maybe a bunny. Bunnies are cute and fluffy, and they always seem pretty content. And I like carrots, so that would work in my advantage too."
Declan nodded, sipping at his drink. "Daddy would be a wolf."
"He would?"
"Mmm-hmm. Wolves are protectors. That's what my animal book says. They protect their packs, and their packs are their family, and Daddy always says that family is above all. He'd protect us all the time, because he loves us. Uncle Elijah and Finn, and Uncle Kol and Auntie Bekah. Bonnie and Aunt Sage, and he'd even protect Aunt Katherine, even if she does make his head hurt all the time." Caroline muffled her giggle by burying her face in his messy curls. "And me and you. He'd protect us most of all."
Something in Caroline melted as she listened to Declan include her in his list of people his father would protect, and she pressed her lips to the crown of his head as she smiled. "Me too, huh?"
Delcan looked up at her, his eyes squinted and his lips pursed slightly. "You're part of the family, silly. Of course he'd protect you too." He smiled, leaning up towards her. "Don't tell everybody else," he whispered. "But I think Daddy loves us most of all."
Caroline beamed at him, fighting against the sting of happy tears she could feel beginning, and pressed a finger to her lips, shooting him a wink. "The secret is safe with me."
The little boy nodded, sated, and leaned back as he drank the last of his Ginger Ale, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. "Can I have some more?" he asked, holding his glass towards her. "I think it's helping my tummy feel better."
Caroline took the glass from his hands, quickly sliding out of the bed. "Sure thing, buddy. You just chill here with Kuzco and I'll be back in a sec, okay?" She watched him nod absentmindedly, his attention already focused on the movie once more, and she shook her head fondly as headed out into the hallway and down the stairs.
The house was dark as she made her way towards the kitchen, her ears able to pick up the faint sounds of the street celebrations happening in the Quarter. As her bare feet padded against the marble floor of the kitchen, she wondered how Klaus' art showing was going, and if Sophie's photographs were making the impression he'd hoped they would. She smiled as she recalled the passionate way he'd spoken about her work, telling her once again how incredible it was to see the world through someone else's lens.
She sat the empty glass on the counter as she pulled open the refrigerator, eyes squinting against the sudden light as she reached for the bottle of Ginger Ale that sat on the second shelf. Her foot kept the door propped open as she poured the bubbly liquid into the glass, twisting the lid back onto the bottle once it was full and placing it back in its proper place. The kitchen sank into darkness as she let the door fall shut, her eyes glancing around the room as lifted the glass back into her grasp.
Her gaze fell on a small piece of paper that rested on the kitchen island, its edges bent and folded over as the moonlight from the window cast a faint glow across it. She frowned, crossing the short distance, the fingers of her free hand sliding along the surface of the wood as she rounded the corner. The glossy sheen of the photograph shined in the moonlight, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she reached out, sliding it towards her.
Caroline's heart stopped, her breath frozen in her chest as she stared down at the picture. It was worn, creased in the middle and along the sides, as if it had been folded and stuffed into a wallet for quite some time. The couple that stared up at her were young, the redhead's hair pulled back into an elaborate braid to incorporate the veil that had been woven into it. The white dress was covered in lace, and wrapped around her shoulders and torso, the diamond necklace glittering around her neck as she smiled brightly. The man next to her wore a smug grin, his dark hair gelled back and his broad shoulders clothed in a black tuxedo jacket, the tie hanging pristinely around his neck. His arm was wrapped tightly around his bride's shoulders, already a fierce possessiveness gleaming in his eyes.
Caroline's fingers was shaking as she slowly grasped her wedding photo in her hand, lifting it from the table top as her heart crashed against her ribcage. The glinting of metal beneath the photo caught her eye, and a broken sob slipped past her lips as her eyes landing on the single solitaire ring that lie beneath the picture. The diamond was shining in the moonlight, attached to the matching silver wedding band as it rested against the table.
The wedding band she'd ripped from her finger and tossed into the corner of the room as she'd fled in a flurry of blood and tears.
Tears of fear and realization were rolling down her cheeks as she shook her head, eyes glued to the ring and the photo. The photo that had looked down at her for over five years from its spot on the living room mantle. The photo that she knew Tyler kept in his wallet, next to his driver's license and insurance cards.
Footsteps sounded quietly behind her, the smell of whiskey and his familiar aftershave assaulting her senses as she took a shuddering breath. She felt him come up behind her, his breath warm and heavy against the back of her neck, and she clenched her eyes shut as his hands settled against her waist, his nose brushing the curls against the side of her face.
"You have no idea...how much I've missed you."
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Gulp.
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We're getting down to the wire, guys. Not long nooooowww.