Chapter Two: slip into the tragedy
An uncomfortable silence looms in the vehicle as Nik drives slowly down broken streets and roads.
Occasionally, he steals glances at Caroline who keeps her gaze fixated down in her lap, twiddling her thumbs to an imaginary beat. Her breaths are shallow and she's a strong little thing despite the fact what inevitably awaits her in the near future. Probably within even just a few moments.
But she's not thinking about that. Dying, that is. Because, honestly, if it was going to happen, then it would have happened already. There have been plenty of times this week where she actually cheated death. She was a walking target for her own personal grim reaper. If Hollywood still exists, then she should have a cameo in the next Final Destination film.
Seriously, though. Her backyard is infested with the damned monsters. It's like they know she's up there on the roof so they just wait around, hoping that she would just fall off already. The one that was in her room had long since been gone, but she still wasn't ever going to go back in that house. The only way she ever got down was jumping into the tree and then easing herself onto the neighbor's roof to climb down. It wasn't an easy life, but she had to make do with what she got.
Looking for something to eat was especially hard. What she gathered from houses she snuck into, which was only three because she was scared shitless (there's only so much you can do with a curtain holder), she stuffed in her pockets and carried them back to the roof. Walking through town was horrible. There was literally no one. It was like somehow during that night the world just vanished into thin air. People she once knew were gone. Or gone as in undead. People she didn't even think about ever turning into something so gruesome.
But her main concern was her friends. Elena and Bonnie. She'd walked by their homes, but Elena's was literally nothing, and Bonnie's street was completely overtaken with infected. If Bonnie was still in there, then she wasn't alive.
"Caroline, huh?"
She looks up, startled and slightly forgetful that she was even picked up.
This guy. Right.
"Yeah," she answers. "What's your name? Or is it none of my concern still?"
Nik smirks. "Now you're getting the hang of this. You don't ask the questions; I do."
She rolls her eyes and scoffs. "You know, you remind me of this girl I used to go to school with. She was a real bitch."
"Must've been lovely," he muses.
If lovely suddenly means venom spitting swine, then lovely she was. Very lovely. Her name, Rebekah Mikaelson, stepped right out of the British version of Mean Girls. With her sophisticated vocabulary and the way she literally turned up her nose at someone who dared to even ask her a simple question like what time it was, Caroline was convinced that Rebekah was Mystic Falls' very own Regina George. Or just a really big super bitch. And that was not how the story was supposed to go. New students, especially new girls, weren't allowed to be bitches on Caroline's turf. It wasn't like she ran the school or anything (she totally did: cheerleading captain, head of all dance and festival committees, student body president, founding family member, etc.), but Rebekah coming and stealing her thunder away wasn't something that could just be overlooked.
Yet, everyday that she stayed in the town a little less of Caroline was visible. Everyone seemed to fall in love with her for some strange reason. So she had a cute accent? So? So she was a little on the adorable side? So? So she was rich? So? Did she spend her entire junior high and high school career planning out her prom queen campaign? No. They didn't even have proms in England or wherever the hell she was from. And, you know, Caroline was pretty damned sure that Rebekah didn't spend majority of her life crushing on everybody's favorite Matt Donovan only to have him dump her on graduation for Rebekah herself.
So yes. If lovely meant venom spitting swine, then Rebekah was very lovely. If the gods are looking down on Caroline, then Rebekah has to be dead. Matt too for that sake.
But now isn't the time for petty high school bullshit. Caroline got over Matt-or, rather, she thought she did-after three weeks. At the moment, it was the worst time of her life. Endless crying and headaches and blemishes and extra weight that she didn't really need to gain if she was majoring in physical therapy in the fall at the University of Miami. But over time, her heartbreak began to fade. She was moving to Florida, and Matt was planning to just stay in Mystic Falls and take care of the house that his mother was never a part of. He had scholarships from colleges all around the country, but he decided to just stay in their little town and do dishes at the Mystic Grill just like he'd been doing for the past four years. So maybe it was for the best. Caroline was destined for bigger things, and Matt...well not-so-big things.
However, if by chance, they are alive, then hopefully it won't be for too much longer. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
"Where are you from?" Caroline asks, trying to get her mind on other things as desolate and sad as those other things might be.
"Born in Wales, grew up in London," he responds never once taking his eyes off the road. He takes a left turn off the main street and city hall is at the end. They past the Mystic Grill, which is nothing but a broken box now, and Caroline feels a slight hint of nostalgia. He continues to drive until he hits a tiny side road that she's been on maybe once or twice and within a few more moments they're driving over freaking corpses that are just lying around on the road.
She clenches her stomach and ducks her head in between her knees.
The vehicle bounces up and down and Nik isn't even trying to go about it subtly. He doesn't care. Used to it. He's driven on this road everyday since he's gotten here and he's not stopping just because of a little car sickness. Not like she hasn't seen a dead body before. Puh-lease.
Caroline coughs a few times, tears bud in the corners of her eyes, and she begs for it all to just stop. This is too much. She's going to be sick.
She rolls down the window and sticks her head out into the sunlight, smelling the scent of death in the air. She vomits up every little bit of cereal grains she's eaten that morning , and it's still not enough. It feels like she's going to cough up her stomach, her heart, her lungs. Her insides are on fire, her face is the shade of a freshly ripe tomato, she can barely breathe. There is no air in this world. There is no oxygen.
Nik glances over at her, her back unstable and her hair clinging to her forehead. Her crystal eyes are shining and wet and sad and she's terribly sick. This is exactly why she should've just stayed where she was. Survivors are a liability. Extra baggage that doesn't need to be carried. yet she's here, and he doesn't really know why. If she were anyone else, then he would've killed her by now. But there's something about her that just...
"We're here," he says as he pulls into a large driveway. A large fountain sits in the center of it and Caroline looks up to see that they've arrived at a mansion of some sort. Since when were there other mansions besides the Lockwood mansion?
"What is this place?" she asks softly, her throat still raw from the coughing.
"It's a house," Nik answers as he gets out and starts towards the front door.
Unlike the rest of Mystic Falls, it isn't dilapidated and blown out. It doesn't look like there's any damage whatsoever. Not even a trace of undead, but Caroline isn't too sure. If it seems too good to be true, then it probably is. But if that is indeed the case, she's not going to wait in the car and be a sitting duck. There had been too much of that already.
She gets out and catches up to him as he looms at the doorstep. Had the doors always been this big?
Caroline regards him carefully, trying to picture just what he's thinking about. She's no psychologist, but something tells her that he isn't as mean as he tries to be. She's had enough experience with dickheads before (cough Damon Salvatore cough) to know that there's always just a big softie underneath.
"What's wrong?" she asks slowly.
He snatches his head up as if he's just remembered that she was also here with him, and he actually did forget about her altogether. There was just him and this door. This lonely door that hides a lonely and empty house with bare walls and no memories. Nothing but desolation and nothingness. No Rebekah. No Kol. Nobody.
He tells her that it's nothing, that she just needs to shut the hell up and do as he says.
There is nothing wrong whatsoever. He just needs to suck it up.
He twists the door handle and opens it up in one swing and suddenly he's stepped over the threshold and he's in this ridiculously beautiful house that he can't even imagine his siblings occupying with just the two of them. But, maybe, eventually, all of them would have lived here. Him, Elijah, Kol, Rebekah, Finn. In a perfect world, that's how it would be. But Elijah and Finn aren't even here anymore. Kol and Rebekah are missing. It's just Nik. Always only just Nik.
The place is eerily quiet. Empty and desolate. There is furniture, but it looks brand new. Like it's never been used before. There are paintings of landscapes on the wall, a black signature NM in the right hand corners. There are pictures of little dark-haired boys on the mantle and two blonde children with piercing blue eyes. They are all smiling and hugging each other and full of love and exuberance and the innocence that is a child's soul. The innocence that has long disappeared.
He walks into the marble covered ballroom and he can almost picture his sister dancing with some boy and smiling the way she always does when she's truly proud of herself, which is all the time really. Nik can almost envision his cocky little brother trying to womanize some poor unsuspecting girl in the corner, falling for his charms over and over just like they all do.
He walks up the stairs and Caroline follows close behind, her eyes straight on his stiff back and shoulders. She cocks her head to the side when they enter a study with nothing but a desk and a bookshelf. He starts to take them out one by one, flipping through the pages. She wants to ask him what he's looking for, if she can help him find it, but he'll just shut her out. So she just stands in the doorway and watches him flit from the desk and to the bookshelf frantically as if if he can't find whatever it is, then a bomb's going to be set off or something.
He mutters words under his breath, but she can't make it out. His breathing is loud and heavy and the way his eyes go wide and wild are enough to tell her that he's scared out of his mind.
Then it all clicks. Everything is set into place like puzzle pieces and Caroline mentally kicks herself in the shins for not figuring out sooner.
He's not just some strange British guy.
This isn't just a random house that he chose to go to.
This is the infamous Mikaelson mansion that she was never invited to go to.
Rebekah lived here.
Caroline backs out of the study and leans on the wall in the hallway, covering her face in her hands. And after she wished death upon the poor girl like she was so disposable only to find out that this man had some type of connection to her. Whether she liked her or not, Rebekah was a person. A living, breathing person with a family just like her. And Caroline completely disregarded all of that like it was nothing. So blinded by her own fury and heartbreak that she didn't even stop and actually look at the person hurting like mad right beside her. She didn't ask enough questions. She just went along, hoping for the best. Thinking that, well, they didn't need to know each other since the world was ending. But how wrong she was. How terribly wrong.
Now that she thinks about it, she can see the similarity. The blue eyes, the snarky attitude, the confidence that just seems to be radiating off their skin. Caroline was always envious of that confidence. That strength that seemed to run deep in Rebekah's veins.
Nik continues to flip through the pages, trying to figure out any type of clue as to where his sister and brother might be. When they were children he remembers that on the last day of the semester in school, Rebekah would bring home her progress reports and stuff them between the pages of an Oxford or an encyclopedia and pretend that she never received it. Other times she would sneak into his room and hide little stick figure drawings in his textbooks while he was out and sign her name at the bottom like she was a world-renowned artiste. And then, there was the last time, when she tried to suppress her memories of that night within those stationery pages of her lock & key diary.
She was always good at hiding things. Leaving little secret messages here and there for one of her brothers. She'd even hide herself from them; under her bed, in the pantry, in a cupboard, in the closets, in the garden. And they'd always find her. Or rather, Nik always found her. Always the one to humor her just for a bit, letting her know that even though she was the only girl in the house that he'd always cherish her just so like a little princess. That he'd always be there. He'd always find her.
And now he lost her.
There are no messages in pages, there are no drawings of the family with U smiles on their faces, there are no progress reports with a minus strikes on them for misbehavior. There is nothing.
Nik sets down the last book and holds onto the edge of the desk until his knuckles turn snow white. He clenches his jaw and he shuts his eyes tightly. He doesn't know what he was expecting to find here. He's looked at this place for the past four days, checking every little nook and cranny for some type of inkling as to where his siblings are, but nothing. There is nothing. It's like they knew what was going to happen. Like they were prepared.
"I'm sorry," a voice says from the doorway. He turns to look at his newfound companion and notices she's taken off her hoodie and now the only thing protecting that flesh of hers from a vicious bite is a thin cotton yellow shirt that will do close to no good.
There's black blood splattered across her chest.
"For what?" he asks, and now he's bitter. Pure anger and frustration because this situation shouldn't even be happening. He shouldn't know Caroline. He should be in Atlanta drinking a cold beer with Elijah and indulging in all the simple pleasures Atlanta had to offer. Not this.
"Because." Caroline chews on her bottom lip and shifts her weight to one leg. "I knew...Rebekah. That's who you're here for, right? Rebekah Mikaelson?"
He swallows and his face turns into a stone.
"We weren't exactly the best of friends," she admits, "but I don't think anything happened to her. I think she just left."
Just left. Right. Rebekah just left. As if things would be that easy. You don't just leave. You can't just leave.
"Did you know Kol?" he asks her and she shakes her head.
"I may have saw him once or twice in town, but she never talked about her personal life that much. Who are you?"
"One of her brothers."
"Oh."
And that's the end of it. Caroline looks at him with gentle eyes because she's been in this exact same position-hell, she still is in this exact same position. Elena and Jeremy Gilbert, Bonnie Bennett, Stefan and Damon Salvatore, Tyler Lockwood, Matt Donovan; all her friends are missing and she has no way of finding out where they are. On top of all that, her mother is dead. The single person left that was never supposed to leave her under any circumstances was gone and here she was all alone searching for people who might have already kissed death.
"What's your name?" she tries again, hoping for an actual answer this time. Maybe if she had tried to befriend Rebekah a little more then she would've already known. But it's too late for that now, isn't it?
He brushes past her and closes the door behind them. "Nik," he says and it's like a weight is lifted off her chest for some strange reason. Now Caroline knows his name. She knows the name of a brother of the girl she absolutely loathed, and she's stuck with him.
"I lost people too," Caroline says as Nik goes back down the stairs. She stops at the top step and thinks to ask him why he hasn't checked the other rooms, but then stops herself once she realizes that he's probably been here before. He's probably turned this place inside out and looking through those books were probably his fifth time doing that. You start to repeat things over again once you realize how desperate you are to find something. Anything.
"I don't know where my friends are," she continues as she keeps an even four feet behind him. Her fingers graze the edge of the railing as she descends and she's caught up in a daydream about what this place must've looked like when it was alive. When it was open and free and warm. Not closed and obstructed and cold as ice.
"I watched my mom get eaten."
Nik stops at the bottom step and slowly looks up. Caroline grips the rail hard as the memory flutters back into her mind. She didn't plan on telling him, but maybe if something as tragic as that could maybe place some type of optimism in him. There's a certainty in her mother's death. She saw it. It was an ending. There was no hope, no what if, no redo. There wasn't enough praying or hopeful thinking to bring her back, but maybe there was still something to wish for with Rebekah and Kol. There isn't a finality to their story. They haven't ended.
"I couldn't save her," Caroline says and Nik turns to look at her.
His eyes are soft yet waning. His lips are in a straight line and she's staring right back at him, her sky blues glossy and frustrated. "Why are you telling me this?"
"If you give up now-"
"And what makes you think that I've given up?" he spits. He storms up the few steps where she is and yanks Caroline to her feet, his grip on her wrists tight and unrelenting. Give up? Give up? He'd never give up. Who does she think she is telling him that he's given up? She has no right to...that man had no right to...
She struggles to get away from him, but his grasp never wavers. He practically drags her down the steps and throws her into a large armchair in the corner of the parlor. Nik paces back and forth as Caroline rubs her reddened wrists. Her mouth quivers and she wonders if maybe, just maybe, being out on her own was better than being here, but then her eyes catch sight of the large French doors that reveal the terrace and she knows that she'd rather be here than out there.
There must be fifteen of them. Twenty. Grey and rotted faces, white eyes, mouths hanging open, jaws broken or dislocated. They break through a wooden fence like throwing rocks at a glass window. They push, they fall, they call crawl their way to the manor and Caroline curls up into the seat afraid to even speak. She points her finger to the door and gets Nik's attention.
"Get up," he demands, but she's not fast enough so he grips her upper arm hard and pulls her back to the front door. His heart is pounding in his ears even though he can't understand why because he's been in bigger messes than this, but have they ever moved so fast? He doesn't think so.
Something crashes in the parlor and Caroline lets out an ear piercing scream. Nik opens the door only to see an army of infected crawling around the property, hissing and shrieking at the fresh scent of a new meal. His car is only a few yard away, but it's a risk that he's not willing to take. He's not going to make it there with a pistol and five bullets. It's not going to happen.
He slams the door and rushes to the parlor door as infected start to push on it and Caroline dashes to his side immediately.
"What do we do?" she asks frantically, struggling against the weight.
If he knew what they were going to do, then he would've have told her already. But right now, he can't even think. Nothing is coming to mind that doesn't end in their demise. His demise. And he can't die without knowing whether Rebekah and Kol are okay. He will not allow this to be the end. It won't end.
"Remember what I said earlier?" he asks her quickly.
She shakes her head as her eyes roll up into her head, searching for the answer. He hasn't said that much, so what could it be? What could be so damn important that it'll help when she's literally on the verge of being the main course in an all you can eat buffet.
"About you being the bait?" he yells and pushes harder on the door.
Her head falls back against the door and she lets out a tiny breath. Right. If she sticks with him, she's the bait. But what good would it even do if she's going to die either way? But, would he really be that dumb and use her just to get out of this? There has to be another way out of here. Maybe upstairs and climbing up on the roof like Caroline is so skilled at doing. Anything but going out there just to be a distraction.
"You want me to create a diversion," she sighs knowingly. She shouldn't be so willing to do this, but after all those bad thoughts she wished on Rebekah, she figures it's only fair. "What if they get me?"
"They won't," Nik tells her through gritted teeth. The door bucks in and a splinter of wood flies across the floor to the other side of the foyer.
A bead of sweat trickles down the center of her forehead and stops on the bridge of her nose. Her lungs feel like they're about to burst and she's pretty sure she just might be about to go into cardiac arrest, but she still manages to say, "So what did you have in mind?"
Nik smiles devilishly and Caroline realizes that she's just given up her fate to this guy who hates her guts.
Damn her bravery. Damn it all to hell.