Caroline centric one-shot. Post-Liz's death, but canon divergent; nothing in season 5-6 is applicable to this piece unless it is brought up. Sorry that this is so short, I just wanted to do something that primarily revolved around Caroline based on spoilers I'd heard about the most recent episode.
Title taken from the song She Goes On by Crowded House.
Caroline hates funerals. Up until that actual moment, with the casket going into the ground, she can pretend that whoever is being buried is still alive and somewhere out in the world. On vacation or late home from work; she could create a thousand different scenarios in her head to ignore the truth. It doesn't quite seem real to her that they are dead until the funeral and she's forced to accept that it is true. She wants to keep pretending.
She tries to block out the noise of the pastor; maybe if she doesn't hear him, it won't really be happening, right? She's just with a bunch of people all in black in a park or something. This isn't really happening. This isn't really happening. It quickly becomes her new mantra, the only way she could possibly make it through the whole service without needing to leave or causing a scene. But it is happening, and Caroline hates that she can't do anything to stop it from happening. That there was nothing she could do…nothing Liz would have let her do.
She doesn't bother to wipe away the tears streaming down her face; she has a right to cry and she is going to exercise it fully. Caroline doesn't care what anyone thinks of her today anyway. The only thing that matters is that her mother is gone and Caroline needs to mourn.
The service is finally, miraculously over. She shies away from the assorted arms suddenly reaching to give her a hug or comfort. She doesn't want them though; she doesn't want any arms to hold her but her mom's.
And she'll never be able to have her mom again.
She makes her excuses, trying to get away from the people who want to help but just can't. They can't be who she needs them to be because there is no one she needs more than her mother. Caroline drives through her tears and she can only hope that she doesn't hit anyone in the process. Finally at home and alone, she breathes in; she can just barely make out her mom's scent.
Caroline misses her mom. She figured she would, but not like this. Not like a piece of her is suddenly missing and she'll never be able to get that piece back ever. Not like her world is groaning to a slow stop. She misses her mom more than she thinks she can bear.
She wants nothing more than for Liz to walk through the archway and ask her what is wrong. She wants to launch herself into her mother's arms and let her take away the pain like she used to when Caroline was little and would fall off her bike. She even wants that impatient look of What's wrong now? She would settle even for that look because her mom would be alive and be giving it to her and this horrible nightmare would finally be over.
Of all things, cancer. She'd thought it was a joke at first when Liz finally told her. Out of everything that could have happened, everything that had happened, it would be something so human as cancer that would take her mother from her? The idea seemed ludicrous. But no, Liz was entirely serious and so was the whole damn situation.
Caroline can't breathe. Its all too much too soon and she wasn't ready. She wanted years more with Liz. She wanted her mom to come to her college graduation. She wanted to take her away from Mystic Falls and all the stupid drama and experience the world with her at least once. That way, if she ever went back she could say, My mom and I were here and we had a great time. She wanted those years, she needed those years. She can't do that now.
She'll never experience anything with her mom ever again.
No more dinners, or calling about her weird, messed up boy troubles. No more talking about her classes, no more hearing about Liz's job, the normal and paranormal. No more being able to try and convince Liz to go on dates. No more sneaking into her mom's room and going to sleep on the floor when she had a nightmare. No more slow bonding. No more anything. Ever.
"Mommy," she sobs out, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes, and that one word nearly does her in because she can't remember the last time she called Liz 'mommy', "Why didn't you tell me? I could have…." She breaks off. Her mother didn't want to be a vampire, Caroline knows that, but she'd always hoped that she would be able to convince Liz one day...but there won't be any more 'one-days' for them. So she cries out instead, "Why did you leave me?"
Caroline isn't sure how much time goes by but she knows she has to do something, anything, else. She can't just sit there for the rest of her life feeling as though someone is twisting a stake in her side. What good is it being a super-human vampire when pain hurts twice as bad as it did when she was human? What good is it if she can't even save her mother?
She needs to get out thank you notes to everyone who sent condolences or flowers. She can do that. She should do that. Its what her mother would have wanted. Another sob bubbles up at that thought, but she pushes it down.
I can do this, she thinks, I just need to take it one day at a time.
For now, she'll write thank you cards. She'll pretend that they're for presents or something. Because right now? She doesn't want to face reality.