Hi guys! It's me again. So, luckily this didn't take as long as the previous one to be published so YAY!

I wanted to thank you guys SO MUCH for all the reviews and follows and favorites, they ALL mean TONS to me so THAN YOU!

IMPORTANT: This chapter may be triggering for anyone who has been through miscarriage and even though I did not delve TOO much into it because a)My medical knowledge is so lacking b) This chapter isn't exactly appropriate nor does it serve the story. Still, there is mention of it, and I do not want anyone to be upset after reading this so you have been warned.

Also, genuinehummingbird on tumblr gets the credit for this chapter's title. She basically inspired me for it. And no, it's not because of Snow and Charming in OUAT, it's because of The Fray's song. Annnnd again this isn't beta'd cause my sister's lazy and I don't want you guys to suffer from her laziness AND mine!

Oh, and if you forgot, horizontal line means we're changing POVs :D

OK, I promise I'm done, ENJOY!

Chapter 8: You Found Me

There is only one time that I have seen a person as pale as Caroline. It was Henrik.

He was a dead corpse.

The longer I stare at her, the larger my panic grows. Shock paralyzes my senses as I remember the awful way in which Henrik was looking, so young, so innocent, so dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

No! Seems to be the first thought that my mind can register.

No! No! No! Not Caroline. Not beautiful, radiant Caroline.

Not my Caroline.

A lump forms in my throat, bubbling up and threatening to rise up even further. As a gasp escapes my throat, I back away and my eyes follow the path of my steps.

My shoes left a bloody print. I have blood on my shoes. I'm leaving bloody prints in my wake as I back away further. I have blood on my shoes.

I have Caroline's blood on my shoes.

The idea screams at me, shouts at me, tears at my mind and eats away at my heart.

Caroline's blood.

Caroline is as pale as Henrik.

Caroline is dead.

NO!

I don't know how or when did my brain order my body to move, but the next thing I know is that I have stepped into the puddle of blood and cradled Caroline in my arms. It's only then that I notice her name falling from my lips like a mantra.

'Please, please not Caroline' I hear myself chanting in a choked voice as I hold her in my arms, head resting on my chest and cold hand in mine. I do not know for what exactly am I pleading, but I have no power to stop the prayers. And isn't that just absurd? I am praying to a God that I don't believe in. I'm praying that He exists and that He would answer my prayers.

Pathetic. I would acknowledge the irony if not for my thundering heart beats.

I sense it then. She's breathing; shallow, short breaths, but she is breathing. I hold her tighter like she would slip away from me if I loosen my grip, like she would leave me alone if I don't try to radiate warmth that I very much lack into her cold, broken body.

From what seems to be thousands of miles away, Rebekah's voice approaches me; her voice is shaking as she presses the phone to her ear. She is talking quickly and I can barely register her words, I can only catch one coherent thought 'miscarriage'.

Miscarriage, Caroline had a miscarriage, something very much likely to happen to any woman. But there's something odd about this situation. I cradle her face in my hands, her pale face and delicate features making my heart constrict with pain. There's a cut on her lower lip, a fresh one. Did she fall? How did it happen? How did Rebekah know that she is in danger, that she will have a miscarriage? No, Rebekah said he would kill her, who is he?

I shake my head. None of this matters right now. Only Caroline's life matters.

. . .

I hate hospitals. They are such despicable, depressing and death-filled places. The gloomy doctors, the screaming and moaning patients, I honestly don't think anyone likes hospitals.

And I certainly don't like the feeling of helplessness sitting in a hospital's waiting room gives me, especially when it is Caroline's life hanging in the balance.

I sit hunched on the uncomfortable plastic chair, hands clasped and elbows resting on my knees, growing more irritable than I already am with Rebekah's pacing.

'She will be OK, I'm sure' she keeps chanting 'they know what they're doing. We found her on time' she would be quiet for a few seconds only to say 'Where the bloody hell is Stefan?' Then after a few seconds she would rewind this circle of hysteria.

Stefan has a meeting with a publishing company today, his phone would be off and he won't get her incessant messages until later. But I cannot tell her that, otherwise I would cut off her hysteric ranting. I want to snap at her but that would result in a meltdown that I am not exactly prepared for, not until someone would give us any kind of update on Caroline's status. The last we've seen of the nurse was when they took Caroline into surgery, something about incomplete miscarriage and a sentence packed with medical terms that my mind has absolutely no time or energy to absorb. Then she followed the group of doctors hurdling Caroline into the OR.

Rebekah picks up the phone again and practically shouts into it 'Stefan where the bloody hell are you? I've been calling for an hour now. Get your butt over here you prick'

Why is she shouting at Stefan and incessantly calling him? I have not the slightest idea. However, knowing my sister, she is more than likely to break down if she finds no one to let out her frustration at. Now that the pressure is removed from her shoulder and she has nothing to do other than wait –something that she is not particularly good at (Not that I am any better; it's a trait in the family clearly), she finds a distraction.

Rebekah takes a deep breath before adding calmly while looking at me through narrowed eyes 'And bring Nik a change of clothes while you are at it'

I do not bother to look down at my shirt to know what Rebekah is referring to… the blood stains that cover my shirt, surely.

I swallow the rising lump in my throat, trying to push away the thought.

It is not until an hour further that a kind-looking, relatively young doctor approaches us with a tight-lipped smile.

'Hello, I'm Dr. Walker' she says calmly. I don't know if her tranquil behavior disturbs or relaxes me 'Were you the father?' she turns to me with a smile that is so obviously fake, her eyes seem almost ready to narrow in my direction should I nod my approval.

'No he's not' Rebekah immediately snaps, shaking her head frantically. I frown, not knowing if it's an insult but Rebekah only sounded somewhat ….protective? Panicked? Something is increasingly eerie about this situation 'We are just her friends' Rebekah clears her throat.

'Well,' the doctor starts calmly again 'Miss Forbes lost the baby. She's lost a lot of blood and we noticed a bit of bruising during surgery.'

Miss? I remember Rebekah filling the forms earlier but whatever made her write Caroline's maiden name and change her marital status? I push my thoughts aside, focusing on the last part of Dr. Walker's sentence.

'Why?' I ask before I can stop myself.

'I was hoping that either of you would tell me' she says frankly.

'When we arrived we found her drowning in her blood' Rebekah volunteers 'Is she going to be OK?'

'Yes, she will' the doctor smiles slightly 'She will need some time to wake up from the anesthesia and will most likely be in a bit of pain for a few days, but you got to her just on time. And I suppose this incident won't affect her future in getting pregnant.'

I sigh ruefully 'Do you know what caused the miscarriage?'

Rebekah tenses beside me immediately.

'We are not quite sure' the doctor starts slowly, almost hesitantly 'she seems a healthy young woman from her chart and the bruising we found suggest that trauma might have caused the miscarriage. However, we rarely know definitively what causes a miscarriage and until the patient wakes up and give us a little more details, we can't be sure'

'Can we see her?' Rebekah asks eagerly.

'Yes, of course' the doctor smiles, gesturing with her head for us to follow her.

'She will wake up soon' she speaks once we arrive to Caroline's room, gives us another nod and smile then leaves us staring at the glass window of Caroline's room.

It bothers me greatly staring at her reflection through the glass as it reflects my own image as much as it transpires hers. And it is only now that I see the blood smudges covering parts of my white dress-shirt and perfectly understand Rebekah's distress over my appearance. I shift my gaze down to avoid looking at the unlikable reflection of my unnerved face and bloody shirt but I am greeted with the same sight. My pants have received the same treatment, and so have my shoes.

Caroline's blood is covering parts of my clothing.

I shudder.

Rebekah is about to step into the room when my earlier thoughts –questions, come hurtling back to the surface of my damaged brain, tons of them all rushing back, nagging at me, pleading –begging for an answer. I almost know the answer. That, however, does not mean that I want to think about it, I do not want to entertain that possibility in fear that it becomes a reality.

And honestly, is there any other alternative? All the evidence leads to one conclusion –one dreadful, frightening, awful conclusion. Rebekah's concern, the secrecy, Stefan's words, Rebekah's knowledge of the fact that Caroline was in grave danger, her panic over the sent paycheck, the outburst that he would kill her.

He? No one called the husband…. Of course, they wouldn't, we brought her in. We are supposed to inform him. Yet Rebekah made no motion whatsoever to call Caroline's husband, choosing to send one panicked message after another to poor Stefan and to write down her initial name as an unmarried woman.

Caroline wanted to work from home. She looked hollow and empty the last time I saw her, the doors were locked. There was a knife on the floor and bread in the toaster.

There is a cut on Caroline's lower lip. The doctor found bruising….she said trauma.

I inhale sharply. I am no fool, even though in this particular moment I wish otherwise.

'Rebekah' I start, voice slightly trembling as I grab her elbow before she could enter the room 'Care to explain?'

She licks her upper lip, looking down 'Is there anything I need to explain, Nik? Isn't it obvious?' her voice is barely above a whisper.

I gulp down 'Rebekah, are you telling me that Caroline's husband…?' I trail off, clenching my jaw.

'She's been living in hell, brother' Rebekah softly whispers, watery eyes meeting mine, lips quivering 'She's been trapped and she wanted a way out'. Rebekah puts a soothing hand on my arm. She keeps talking in gentle whispers as if to lessen the shock.

I can no longer listen to her, my eyes travel back to Caroline, staring at her, my heart clenching between my ribs. The shock shuts down my senses, paralyzing as I stand gazing at her beautiful, captivating face; so breathtaking even in the midst of the most dreadful of situations, even as the blood is drained from it.

Then the disgust comes in waves. So many images cross my mind, so many brutal, heart-wrenching, mind-numbing, bone-chilling images cross my mind. I cannot stop them. They flood my senses, arousing rage and repulsion in their wake. I cover my eyes, as if that would somehow stop the offensive flashes, as if that would somehow wipe away the flashes.

They don't. And my shaky legs carry me away from my sister's tears-stained face, jogging aimlessly with a lump in my throat that I cannot swallow anymore, hot stinging tears burning my eyes.

I run until I find that little sign and storm into the restroom where I lose the contents of my stomach.

Only one thought is prominent while I vomit until absolutely nothing can come out of my stomach but the disgusted feeling refuse to leave me.

I am going to kill that bloody bastard.

Sharp, stinging pain is all I can feel. The world is spinning like a whirlwind of endless hazy shapes. There's blood trickling down my legs. I can feel the warm red liquid gushing out of my system.

Is this it? Is this how I will die?

Well, I knew all along that Tyler would kill me.

Darkness overwhelms my senses.

. . .

They say your life flashes before your eyes when death finally comes. But I do not see my life. All I see is his face. Or perhaps I'm not dead yet?

'Sweetheart, are you OK?' he says, kneeling down next to me. Despite the concern in his voice, it also carries a hint of smile that bothers me to no end.

'Yeah, I'm fine' I huff, irritated.

'I'm so sorry, Caroline, but you started it!' he chuckles, taking in my slightly reddened cheek from where his snowball smacked me in the face.

'I didn't hit you it the face, you jerk!' I push his shoulder and it only makes him laugh harder 'And now I'm cold'

'I have an idea that can warm you up' he says with a smirk.

Before I can protest, he's wrapped his arms tightly around me, pulling me impossibly close to him and running his hand up and down my back. I involuntarily lean into his embrace, inhaling his scent; eyes fluttering shut as I burry my head in the crook of his neck.

'Better?' he asks, tone soft and soothing.

'A little,' I mutter before adding more sternly 'but I'm still cold'.

He chuckles again, the sound vibrating from his throat and sending warmth through my entire body 'Come on then, I'll buy you hot chocolate'

'OK' I sigh, reluctantly pulling away. He helps me up and wraps his arm around my shoulder as we walk.

'Don't be mad, love' he says, tucking me closer. I welcome the gesture far more than I care to admit 'You gave me a concussion. Literally'

'It was an accident!' I reply defensively.

'So was this!' he muses and I scoff.

It is my life after all.

"Caroline, sweetheart!" I swear I can hear his voice, I can feel his arms around me.

I am most certainly dead.

. . .

There's light burning through my eyelids, a feeling that is never been something that I enjoy.

Is this heaven?

No, it can't be heaven. My head feels heavy, and my throat is dry. I can feel my whole body aching as I slowly regain my senses. There's an uncomfortable, if not a bit familiar, buzzing sound from what I assume is a nearby machine. A whimper escapes my mouth involuntarily when I shift in my place to cause another wave of pain through my aching limbs.

'Caroline?' it's a mere whisper.

Is that…?

I shift again; fighting to pry opened my eyes.

'Caroline?' he says again a little louder but soft all the same. A warm hand is resting on mine. He runs his thumb over my knuckles soothingly.

'Where am I?' the words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

In heaven, definitely in heaven –even if his voice is weary and my body is aching. His very presence just so clearly indicates that I'm in heaven.

'You're in the hospital, Caroline,' he soothingly says, squeezing my hand 'you're going to be alright'.

Is this a dream?

Slowly, and with great difficulty, my eyelids crack opened. I blink back several times, trying to adjust my vision to the light. It must be a dream; he cannot possibly be sitting next to me right now. It's a hallucination, I'll look around and find no one sitting next to me, or worst, find Tyler sitting next to me.

My tired eyes lock with his anxious ones. His eyebrows are pulled together in a frown and his lips are pressed in a tight line. He seems not only apprehensive but also…. Angry?

No, he looks livid. He is fuming and ready to burst into flames at any given second. His anger is not towards me, though, from the gentle touch of his hand and the way his thumb continues to draw circles on my knuckles absently.

'Nik?' it comes out as a question, and a stupid one at that. Yet I can't help myself when I add 'is that really you?' because he can't be anything but a fragment of my imagination.

He smiles. It's small and sad, filled with pain and longing. I do not like it.

'Yes, Caroline, who else would it be?' he tries to tease and fails for his tone is heavy and his face is hard and still frowning.

I swallow the lump in my throat, shaking my head as though that would somehow clear my thoughts 'How ... Um … how did you find me? What happened?' how come I'm not dead?

He drops his gaze, staring at our hands instead. His shoulders go stiff and his tone is hesitant when he speaks 'Rebekah got worried when you didn't answer her calls and I tagged along with her. We … found you in the living room and called an ambulance.'

'Oh' is all I can mouth.

'Caroline,' he begins after a moment of silence before sighing deeply and looking back at me as he adds 'you lost the baby'.

'Oh' I say again. I know I did, it is no surprise at all. From the moment that Tyler began his fierce reaction towards the paycheck he saw assigned to me in the mail box, I knew that the baby would not make it. I did not start bleeding however, until he was done with his punishment and left the house after locking all the doors behind him muttering something along the lines of "I let you get away with too much". And even though, it's no surprise at all, I feel moisture building up in my eyes. I do not understand why, I wanted to get rid of it anyway, so why am I so upset?

'Are you OK, Caroline? Do you want me to call the doctor?' he asks worriedly, wiping a stray tear away from my cheek. I relish in the softness of his scarce touch; it feels both familiar and strange.

I shake my head lightly again.

'Do you need anything?' He inquires.

'Just water' I mutter.

He nods, before standing up and reaching for a nearby table where he pours water into a plastic cup. Gently, so very gently as though I'm about to break, he helps me quench my thirst, cradling my head in one hand and holding the cup in the other.

Does he know? He must know. Speaking of, where is my unlikable husband?

Panic, suddenly that is all I feel, a million thoughts rushing all together to my mind as the image of my angry husband pushes its way to my mind. I abruptly sit up in my bed, ignoring the flame that spreads through my lower abdomen at the sudden movement.

'Tyler!' I squeak out 'I need to go back home, he'll start wondering where …'

'No' Nik's voice is harsh as he cuts me off 'you don't need to go back anywhere Caroline' his whole body is as rigid as a stone, his face an unreadable mask while his hands clench and unclench in a helpless attempt to leash his anger 'You are not going back to him' it's not a request or a suggestion, it's an order, a demand.

'Nik you don't understand…' I start, voice and hands trembling in harmony with the loud thuds of my heart.

'I perfectly understand, Caroline' he practically growls 'you do not need to go back'

He surely knows.

'But you don't, Nik… you think that you do but you don't' the sentences that come out of my mouth afterwards are absolutely incomprehensible, just a mashed up series of "Tyler", "He'll kill me", "He'll kill you", and "he knows".

'Calm down, Caroline' he finally cuts off my rambles with a sharp 'he can't do anything to you, and you are not going anywhere near that man again!'

'But…'

'This isn't debatable, Caroline, he almost killed you today, and you think we'll let you be within a mile radius from him?' he says angrily, fire ablaze in his blue orbs are they hold mine 'Don't be ridiculous! He won't touch a hair on you anymore.' he grabs my shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly 'I won't let him touch a hair on you'

"You think you'd be able to get away from me Caroline? Did you think that your plan would actually work? I would have found you the next day. I would have found you and killed that Nik of yours, then I would have brought you right here, right back where you belong, bitch''

I shudder at the recollection of his words. During his fit of rage, Tyler tore apart our bedroom and found the small cellphone and, unfortunately, found the thirty seconds long phone call between me and Nik, which was not really a conversation. No matter how hard I tried to talk some sense into Tyler's head, it didn't matter. All he saw was red and the cellphone was crushed as soon as he saw Nik's name. Not that it mattered if I could change his mind about Nik and the supposed affair we were having, my intent of leaving was enough to fuel his anger to no end.

'He said he would find me, Nik!' I exclaim 'he said he would find me wherever I was and take me back'

'He will do no such a thing!' he cries, his grip tightening around my shoulders. I gasp and Nik clenches his jaw. Whether it is with irritation or impatience, I do not know. He shuts his eyes, inhaling and exhaling as though to compose his self before he calmly and almost coldly says 'Then we'll make you unreachable'

I gulp down at the determination in his voice and the hard look in his eyes, shaking his hands off of my shoulders. I am no stranger to his temper and the way he shuts off whenever he wants to, building up a cold, hard mask that more often than not made me want to slap him. I never appreciated it back then, and I most certainly do not enjoy the hard glare right now. Slowly I back away in my bed, bracing myself and reclining away from him, almost certain that he would carry me out of the hospital and throw me God-knows-where to complete what Tyler has started.

What am I saying? This is not Tyler, Caroline. Nik wouldn't hurt you, right? Not physically anyway… right?

The conflict in my mind is reflected in my eyes, clearly, for he lets out a shaky, frustrated breath, unclenches his fists and curses under his breath. When his gaze travels back to my face his eyes are apologetic, gentle even, back to the clear blue orbs that greeted me when I first snapped out of unconsciousness.

I don't need his tantrums; I can't deal with his tantrums.

Suddenly all I can think about is how much I want him out of the room right this instant. I do not want to see the pity in his eyes. I don't want him to look at me like I'm about to break, even though I am on the verge of mental breakdown. I don't want him in this room, period. Not when all he can see is helpless little me who has been suffering for longer than anyone can tolerate and has died a thousand times in a day. Not when all he can see is a ghost that looks like someone he used to love.

Someone he used to love but hurt all the same.

'Caroline…' he starts but is cut short when a blonde head pops into the room, releasing a relieved breath.

'You're awake!' Rebekah exclaims, striding into the room as a smile starts to stretch across her face.

All I see the next few seconds is blonde hair while her arms circle around me, muttering endless sentences about how glad she is that I'm alright. I return her hug immediately, shutting my eyes and letting the relief wash over me. When I open them again all I see of Nik is his retreating figure as he steps out of the room.

I don't know if I'm relieved or sad nor have the time to reflect on that for Rebekah breaks our hug and wiping a few stray tears away from her face says sternly,

'We are going to London'

DUN DUN DUN DUN! I admit it, this has been a BITCH to write so please tell me if it sucked, because it probably did. Leave me a line here or come troll my askbox on tumblr (lostheart95) I love chatting with you guys :D

And, I have exams for the upcoming couple of weeks so don't expect an update UGH :(

KBYETHANKS