Title: the other Mikaelson girl

Pairing: Caroline/Damon: Damon/Elena/Stefan: Damon/Katherine

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Violence, and Sexual Situations

Alternate History: Caroline, the eldest daughter of the Original family has been on the run from Niklaus since the daggering of Rebekah. But when she receives an interesting call with the promise of finally ending the Hybrid she finds herself in Mystic Falls, faced with a man from her past that she hasn't been able to forget.

Important Note: This chapter is set between "The Descent" and "Daddy Issues".

Note 2: Sorry it has taken so long for me to update. I have been incredibly busy this past month. But I'm ready for summer and to update more often.


Her eyes

She's on the dark side

Neutralize

Every man in sight

Angel, Massive Attack


II

She stood under the fringe of tress. The habitual scent of pinene filled the cold night. With memories. As a young girl she had played in these very woods, alongside Kol and Rebekah. Elijah would play the dubious older brother that knew nothing of their childish antics when questioned by father, while Niklaus kept to himself with his own adventures. Finn, as per usual, working hard alongside mother. Henrik had not been but an infant at the time.

Henrik. He had died young. At the hands—better still, claws, of the wolves that had ruled the night under the full moon. And with his blood, which had been spilt by their neighbors, her and her family's plight into damnation had begun.

:}{}{}{}{:

A scream tore through the morning air. The guttural sound caused the blond to give a startled jump. It was a cry of distress. Niklaus' cry. Something was wrong. She could hear the Spirits—voices in disharmony sounding throughout her head suddenly. All whispering too sharply, too harshly for her to understand.

"Father! Mother!"

Caroline turned toward the source of the disturbance. She stumbled over the length of her dress as she excited the hut that served as her home for nearly eighteen summers. She slowly neared the frantic calling. Blue orbs widened at the sight that befell her, a sudden wave of dread washing over her.

''Henrik,'' she gasped, rushing to her brother's side. Caroline collapsed to her knees, throat constricting at the display of blood forever staining the expanse of his white tunic. Her eyes traveled up the plane of his pale stomach, tinged with dry blood. Her hands flew to her lips, suppressing a sob that threatened to wreck her body. Three gashes mar his unusually pallid skin, his dark hair falling lifelessly around his angelic face.

The girl's eyes flickered to Niklaus. His body hunched over with grief stricken affliction, tears threatening to spill from his downcast stare as Rebekah did her best to console him through her own pain as well.

Caroline tuned out the hysterical voice of her mother, stare returning to her brother. Her baby brother. He was dead. She could feel it. Sense it. The emptiness of his vessel was almost suffocating.

An unexpected warmth encompassed her, drawing her from the pull of the spirits' harsh power. She craned her head, catching sight of long, dark tresses. Elijah.

''It will be alright, sister.'' he whispered comfortingly into her ear. She was crying, she realized, as a soft mewing cry left her lips. The blond leaned into the safety of his embrace, strong arms wrapping around her shaking frame. Caroline closed her eyes to the horrible truth of mortality.

:}{}{}{}{:

She pushed away the memory. A reminder of the innocence she had lost that day—the blood that had spurred her father's desperation. Of the moment that had sealed her fate.

Her hand closed into a fist. Just the thought of the man, who'd killed her mother...anger, betrayal...He'd destroyed their family.

"I have a secret. I have a big one, but I've never said it out loud."

Damon's pained voice pulled her away from the violent wave of emotions threatening to drown her sensibilities

Secret. Caroline leaned against a tree, cradling a particular memory shared with Damon on the very topic of secrets. And it seemed that now, the Salvatore was still harboring that very deep seated wish. The ultimate truth.

"...I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world! That is my secret. But there's only so much hurt a man can take." She watched on, eyes solemn, as Damon released the girl—Jessica, she recalled hearing—from his compulsion. She'd made it to her car when the man was suddenly behind her, turning her around in tearing into her neck.

Caroline cringed as the heady smell of blood filled the space and his words echoed within her mind. "I'm not human. And I miss it."

:}{}{}{}{:

Chicago 1922

"Do you miss it?"

He stared across the room toward where she sat, back to him peering into the vanity. In his eyes, a mixture of intense interest and a solemn disposition. Looking up at him, Caroline raised a perfectly sculpted brow in curiosity. She wore an ivory and silver beaded evening gown, its fringe falling just short of her knees. Her porcelain white skin looked soft and a gentle hue of pink graced her cheeks, promising warmth.

"It?" The blond asked.

Damon opened his mouth to speak, before closing it abruptly. Hesitation, Damon never hesitated. It was unlike him. He was anything if not tactless. Caroline turned in her seat, giving the man her full attention.

He shrugged. "Being…human."

"I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world!"

Her expression softened at the reveal. The Salvatore's face was scrunched up in thought, fingers digging into the knees of his pantsuit. His shoulders were hunched over, too. His whole demeanor crumbled right before her.

She took a deep breath, standing from her perch at the vanity. She walked towards him, wearing a knowing look. She offered him a hand, pulling him up from his spot at the edge of her cot.

"Damon, I've been dead a long time." Caroline said softly, letting his hand drop out of hers. She watched his eyes for any form of reaction. He simply nodded, waiting expectantly for her to continue. "My family—I have been around for a long time."

Damon touched her shoulder. She shifted her gaze, meeting his understanding stare.

"If I had…the chance to be…human again, to be rid of this hunger, this darkness inside of me…" He touched her face, rubbing his thumb gently along her cheek. "…To see my mother again…my brother…to feel their embrace once again."

She was suddenly enveloped in a firm, lean mass of warmth, hands wrapping around her frame, pulling her in. Caroline hesitated a moment before she finally wrapped her arms around his back and pressing her face into the crook of his neck.

"I do, Damon. I miss it so much." She mumbled, a string of emotions threatening to be released.

"I miss it too." He whispered into her ear.

The woman pulled away from him slowly, staring up into two pools of intense blue. His eyes flickered down to her pink lips before shifting to return her stare. A hand traveled from the curve her hip, moving fluidly to the back of her neck, fingers toying with a few strands of blond hair. He hesitated.

"Kiss me, Damon." Caroline said, leaning into him, pressing her supple breasts against his chest. He smiled, leaning down and drawing her lips to his.

She watched as the two entered Mystic Bar & Grill—Damon and the doppelganger. The need for his touch left a dull ache within her. They parted ways at the entrance, the young woman moving toward a small group of people while the Salvatore headed for the bar, a pensive look etched on his face.


Caroline shifted in her seat, turning her body toward the man who took up most of her thoughts. It was strange to see him now. In the twenties, he'd been this dapper man, but now—he was the epitome of sex. In the way he walked, talked, and looked at you with those perfectly blue eyes. It was almost too hard to look away. He signaled to the barkeep for a drink. She sighed; watching with interest at two women approached him.

"So, my friend wants to meet you. Damon Salvatore, this is…" It was Jenna, the woman taking care of Elena.

"I know you." The man announced as he turned in his seat, drink in hand. "The news lady."

"Yeah, Andie Star. Nice to meet you."

The blond kept her gaze on Damon as he gave the woman a tight-lipped smile.

"Can I…buy you a drink, Damon?"

"My glass is all full, Andie. Thank you." The Salvatore said thoughtfully, sliding down from his barstool and gravitating toward the familiar face of Elena Gilbert. Caroline sighed, standing from her seat at the opposite end of the establishment, out of sight from many of the patrons—including Damon and Elena, and gliding toward the side entrance.

Damon was completely taken with the girl. The doe-eyed beauty that only served to reminding her of the past…of the friend that was lost to her.

Opening the door, she noted a tall man leaning against the outside wall of the bar, eyes pointed up toward the top of a short staircase leading back up onto the main street. Arms crossed over his chest, looking strong and shoulders incredibly broad. His eyes moved to her sharply as the door closed behind her. He gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement before returning his attention to whatever was meant to be at the top of the stairs.

She moved past him, trailing up the stairs, eyes burning to look back and see if he was still staring. The hairs of her neck stood in alert, a sensation of heat pouring at her back. The intensity of his gaze—there was something animalistic about it. Her phone buzzed at her side. She pulled it out slowly, bringing it to her ear.

"Where are you?" His voice echoed in her ear.

"Elijah, I'm wonderful. Thank you for asking." Caroline informed him brightly as she made her way to her—Elijah's black SUV.

"Caroline." His voice slightly strained.

She gave a soft laugh. "You really shouldn't worry so much, Elijah. It's not healthy for a man your age."

The sound of a soft chuckle was her only reply before a movement to her right caught her attention. Her head turned, eyes landing on the same man she'd only seen moments ago, pulling a large, heavy-looking trashcan up the stairs. Behind him trailed a woman, decked in a tight, leather jacket trailed after him.

"Caroline?" She realized her brother had been talking.

"Sorry, Elijah. What were you saying?" The blond inquired brightly, watching the man and woman as the approached a parked jeep, both moving to lift the large tin can into its trunk. There was something odd about the way they moved, something inhuman.

"No one can know you are here," He spoke carefully. "You run the risk of alerting Niklaus of our plans."

"I understand. I'll be at the house in ten." She nodded, the harsh sound of the jeep pulling out of its parking spot drawing her attention yet again.

"Damon!" She heard a habitual voice call, the brunette appearing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide with surprise as they stared after the roaring vehicle already out of earshot.

Damon? Her mind flashed back to the almost rustic feel that had radiated off of the two—no they were not quite human. And they wore a stench of death that was not entirely vampire. Why had she not seen it before? She left the phone slide from her ear, effectively ending the call and tucking the device back into her pocket.

Werewolves. They'd had the familiar musk of dog…a lingering scent she had not picked up on. The trashcan—it had been big enough to fit a body into. It did not take long for her to connect the two. They'd taken him, taken Damon. Anger flared within her at the notion and she felt the familiar pool of power within her. If anything happened to him…

Pulling open the car door, she climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot. There was no way she was leaving the safety of Damon in the hands of the doppelganger and his enamored brother.


He knew it was stupid. They'd played on his anger for what had happened. He'd sprung the lock on his own trap when he'd followed Jules out of that bar. She'd played him like a fiddle, using his thirst for blood, for retribution for what she'd done to Rose to get him off guard.

When Damon came to, he found himself in a precarious position. He'd been strung up, an overwhelming feeling of blindness overtaking him. The space he was in was eerily dark, the only source of light coming from the fixture overhead. The man took a deep breath, coughing as an almost acid taste invaded his senses.

"Good, you're awake." An oddly youthful voice declared as a figure stepped out of the darkness. Damon tried to focus his eyes, taking in the unknown's appearance. He wore a grey, wool scarf around his neck and a beanie similar in color over tresses of dark hair. "It's been a while. I thought Brady might have actually killed you before I got to have any fun."

The Salvatore raised his head slightly, getting a look at the pubescent boy standing before him wearing a sheepish grin. He didn't look that much older than Jeremy. He stood only a few feet before him, shoulders squawked and eyes trailing over him with interest. And that thought did not resignation any inkling of fear within him. The boyish man was one of them. A wolf, yet there was something about him that was not all that frightening.

"What are you, twelve?" Damon inquired, throat oddly tight. A laugh escaped the man's lips as he took a step toward him, producing a long, steel pipe from behind his back.

"Not yet, Stevie," A familiar rang out in the darkness, its source coming into view not a moment later. Jules. She wore a triumphant smirk on her face as she paced the floor toward him. "Hello, Damon."

"Ju—fuck," Damon muttered in a strangled voice.

"Do you feel that? That burning sensation against your flesh?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she took in the sight of him. "Vervain drip on the ropes, we couldn't run the risk of you breaking free from your chains. Stevie's idea."

"Yeah," The man spoke up with a prideful countenance, grin tugging at his lips.

Damon looked up at his bonds, tugging at them until his arms began to ache. He remained silent, refusing to voice his sudden concern. He was the one that did the saving. Who was there to save him? Stefan? His brother had been waiting for the chance to be rid of him. Elena? She couldn't even keep herself out of trouble let alone get him out of his.

"Now, I am going to ask you this one time," Jules said blandly as she took a step forward, grasping his chin and tilting his head until their gaze was level. "Where is the moonstone?"

The man eased in his restraints as he stared down at her, eyes narrowed. There was no way in hell she'd let him go if he told her what she wanted to know, and there was an even lesser chance of him telling her shit about where she'd be able to find it.

"Why don't you ask Mason?" Damon said smugly.

"I was hoping you'd say something like that." Stevie exclaimed, reminding the two of his presence. The wolf smiled brightly as Jules step away, giving him unlimited access to the Salvatore. He raised the pipe before bringing it down on Damon's side, a sickening crack echoing throughout the room, along with a roaring scream.


The putrid smell of musk and fur filled her nostrils the moment she stepped out of her car. She'd left Elijah a speedy message on his phone about the capture of one of his coveted pawns. By now Elena and Stefan were working on finding the missing Salvatore—they wouldn't in time. The wolves wouldn't leave them much to save.

The blond trekked up the gravel road the two who had taken Damon traveled down. The heavy scent of death still lingered in the atmosphere. Her eyes narrowed as a weatherworn building came into view up ahead. A warehouse with its windows covered over with what looked to be black tarps. Blue orbs canvassed the area. Caroline's watched as a figure appeared at the entrance of the structure.

A man stared her down as she neared tentatively, offering him a pleasant enough smile.

"What are you doing out here?" He all but barked out in question. He was a little over six foot, with broad shoulders stack on top of lean muscle, tasseled brown hair and dark brown eyes.

She feigned a sheepish expression as she took a step forward. "My car stalled a half a mile down the road. I was going to call for a tow but I left my phone at work. I saw a jeep heading up this way, so I hoped there would be some form of civilization nearby, and here you are."

"Here I am," He mumbled under his breath as he scrutinized her, sizing her up. He obviously no longer viewed her as a threat, his voice losing its edge as he visibly relaxed. He pulled something from the back pocket of his dark-wash jeans, holding it out for her. A phone.

She approached him with a relieved smile. He stepped forward, out of the doorway of the warehouse, and closed the distance between them with three quick strides. Caroline's fingers curled around the object, eyes sliding up to catch the man's expression as their skin touched. Hot against cold. His brown eyes snapped up to meet hers and he tried to reel away, but not soon enough. Her free hand had already plunged through his chest cavity.

He stared back at her as she ripped his heart out, literally. Eyes fogging over as death came to collect him. She let his body fall to the wayside as she made her way toward the entrance.


She traveled down row after row of crates—things left behind and covered in dust. A mangled yell echoed throughout the space. Damon. Her body clenched before a sudden, eerie calmness washed over her.

"Where's the moonstone?" A voice spoke up, the back of a hunched form coming into view. It was hard to keep her eyes off Damon. He just hung there, not even on his feet with his legs dangling behind his body. His head was bowed and sweat lined his brow. He'd been stripped of his shirt. Already there were trails of dried blood tingeing his perfect skin. But it was the eyes that did it for her. They had stabbed him there, and there. His eyes were blood-filled, and it was obvious he was blind until they healed.

"Fuck you," The Salvatore breathed out. The moonstone—an important part of reversing Niklaus' curse.

"Wrong answer." The boyish man proclaimed, raising his arm to strike. Caroline moved, hand wrapping firmly around the man's arm and twisted. His head turned and before he could retaliate she threw him across the floor. A loud thud sounded as he meet the hard concrete of the cement.

"Who's there?" Damon called out, head lolling to the side. Caroline froze. This was the closest she'd been to the Salvatore since the incident at Slater's. She took a hesitant step forward, hand shaking as she reached out—for him. "Stefan?"

The pads of her fingers met the warmth of his flushed skin. His lips twitched at the contact. She trailed her fingers along his cheek, taking another step toward him. He was warm. And soft, so familiar. Such smooth skin—his body squirmed against her hand.

"Elena?"

The blond flinched at the name, drawing her hand back as if he had burned her. And he had. With his words. She reached up between them, hands finding his bonds and giving one strong yank, freeing him. As his body fell to the floor she caught him against her chest, dropping to her knees to ease his descent.

"Who are you?" He whispered, blinking rapidly as he stared up at her. His eyes were already healing. She slid out from underneath him, resting him on his side.

She stared down at him for a moment, letting his question hang in the air as she got to her feet. He'd be one hundred percent in a few minutes and then it would no longer be safe for her to be there. Releasing a sad sigh she turned on her heel, leaving Damon to heal while she vacated the premises. Like a thief in the night. Or, to Damon, one hell of a guardian angel.

Once she returned to the discarded car she pulled out her cellular.

"What happened?" Elijah's voice inquired worriedly the moment he picked up.

"Don't worry, Eli," Caroline said without smile, "Your pawn is safe. But you seem to have a bit of a dog problem. Might want to get one of your witches on that."

Elijah was silent for a moment, pondering whether or not to respond. Giving a response won out. "I'll have that problem dealt with soon. Don't forget, we need a lycan for the ritual."

An old memory flashed through her mind. One she did not wish to relay. She swallowed back bitter words.

"I could never forget."

A pause. "Neither can I…and thank you."

"Anytime, Eli. We're family."


Thanks for reading! Please leave a review telling me what you think.