"Inspite of our differences, Rebekah, there's no one I would trust more with my daughter's life."
The words of her brother kept echoing inside Rebekah's head, as she sped past the Welcome Sign to New Orleans, tears streaking down her cheeks as she glanced at her newborn niece in the back seat through the mirror.
However, suddenly a chill crawled up her spine, prickling her skin as if unseen eyes were boring her back.
She glanced in the mirror first - nothing but her own tear stained eyes staring back. She glanced out in the forest lining the road- no shadows, but eerie silence greeted her ears.
Still, her knuckles tightened on the wheel and she accelerated on the gas. The hum of engine filled the silence, but it wasn't enough to drown out the feeling that someone was out there - just beyond sight, just out of reach.
Alone. And yet, not.
The sky was bleeding gold but Rebekah's hand stayed firm on the wheel, eyes sharp on the mirror and road ahead. However, Hope behind her let out a soft, restless cry that quickly sharpened thin and hungry. Rebekah blinked hard and carefully eased off the gas as she saw gas station sign flicker in the distance. As she carefully pulled in, her eyes scanning the lot before she reached for the door.
However, as she barely was out of the door a blur of movement slammed into her and knocked her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, eyes flashing up just in time to see a hybrid towering over her - eyes aglow with a fierce blue light. For a split second, she hesitated—a flash of disbelief at the unfamiliar, icy hue replacing the usual predatory yellow.
Before he could blink, she with fangs bared — her hand plunged into his chest, ripping his heart free in one clean motion. His body crumpled at her feet, and Rebekah stood over him, body crouched, eyes scanning her surroundings.
Rebekah had barely turned when two more hybrids lunged from the back, teeth bared, eyes glowing that same feral blue. Another pair closed in behind her, circling like wolves scenting blood. Her lips curled into a snarl. In a flash, she spun with lethal precision and struck, ripping their hearts free before they could react, the bodies collapsing around her.
Rebekah stood over the cooling bodies with there hearts ripped, her breathing steady, gaze sharp. Dawn crept across the sky, casting pale light over the empty gas station — too empty, too quiet.
She turned slowly, eyes scanning every shadow, every corner, her mind racing behind the calm mask she wore. Something about the stillness prickled at her, a cold certainty settling in her chest.
Whatever had sent them wasn't finished.
Caroline leaned against the wall, red cup dangling from her fingers, the music pounding through the room like a heartbeat she couldn't quite match.
Elena and Damon were dancing or more like grinding together and whispering stuff to each other which she was glad she couldn't hear, while Stefan was nowhere to be found though she couldn't blame him. She heard Bonnie's laughter over the music dancing with Enzo, and smiled. If anyone deserved happiness out of all the mess that was Mystic falls is was her.
From the phone in her other hand, Klaus's voice spilled softly, nearly swallowed by the bass — "I'm standing in one of my favorite places in the world, surrounded by food, music, art, culture…"
Her chest tightened, anger and sadness twisting together. Tyler should be here. Klaus had given him the freedom to come home — and still, he stayed away. Still, he left her.
And yet, here she was, hiding in plain sight, clinging to words she had no business clinging to.
"And all I could think about is how much I want to show it to you. Maybe one day you'll let me."
Her thumb hovered over the screen, a flicker of hesitation — then she pressed play again.
Someone bumped into her shoulder, sloshing their drink, but she hardly blinked. Around her, the party went on — loud, bright, messy — while she stood frozen in the middle of it, haunted by a voice she couldn't stop listening to and a love that hadn't chosen her.
Caroline returned to her dorm sat on the couch, legs tucked under her as the party outside their door carried on.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to do everything together — study, party, survive college life side by side. But somewhere along the way, they'd drifted, chasing their own happiness while she stood still.
Instead, Elena was practically glued to Damon's side, and Bonnie — well, Bonnie had someone else now.
Bonnie despite being with her, wasn't there with her at all. Caroline didn't need to guess who it was — Enzo had been keeping Bonnie's attention long enough to turn every conversation into a quiet exchange of glances and inside jokes.
Caroline looked around and her eyes fell on the study desk, glaring at her like a challenge she wasn't ready to face. A half-finished essay, notes for a class she barely cared about anymore.
Her eyes flicked to the wall, where old dream-board fliers for journalism internships curled at the edges.
She stared at them, feeling a sharp pang she couldn't quite name.
Caroline ran a hand through her hair, remembering late-night talks with Stefan, pacing her room in Mystic Falls, freaking out about her future. He'd laughed, casually tossing out the idea of teaching — and then, when she actually considered it, he'd pulled it back with a smirk, saying she wasn't "made for that."
Her jaw tightened. Maybe he thought that. But she knew what she was capable of. She always had. But as the days went on she felt like maybe he was right.
"A small town boy, a small town life won't be enough for you."
The words slid through her mind, uninvited, Klaus's voice as clear as if he were standing right there.
With a jolt, she glared at her phone, as if it had betrayed her for remembering.
The longer she sat there, the more everything felt like it was slipping — her friends, her plans, her sense of who she was. The party outside rose louder, and she pressed her phone tighter to her chest, feeling like she was being left behind.
Caroline juggled her books in one hand and a coffee in the other, the sharp scent of espresso and stress thick in the air. Students rushed past her, faces buried in notebooks, muttering about finals like the world was ending.
She shifted the phone between her shoulder and ear as it rang, eyes scanning the crowded quad.
"Hi, Mom," she said when the line finally picked up on the third ring.
"Hi, Caroline! How are you?"
Her mom sounded breathless, like she was walking fast. Caroline's brow knit, slowing her pace.
"Mom?" she pressed, suddenly alert, coffee forgotten in her grip. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, sweetie, everything is fine now," Liz said, her voice softening into a sweet, teasing lilt. "The troublemakers are out of town. The whole place is boring without you lot stirring up supernatural drama."
Caroline let out a small, dry laugh, rolling her eyes as she shifted her coffee to her other hand.
"Glad to know Mystic Falls is still standing without us," she muttered.
"So tell me how many cups of coffee have you down today?" Liz asked in a mock serious tone.
"Mom" Caroline whined and rolled her eyes for a good measure. "I will have you know that it is 11 o clock in the morning so only …. three cups?" Caroline finished sheepishly.
Caroline smiled brightly, balancing her books as she shoved the door to her dorm open with her shoulder, her mom's soft chuckle still in her ear.
"That's an improvement, dear. It used to be five cups a day, if I remember correctly."
"Yeah, well—" Caroline started, but the words died in her throat.
Her fingers went slack. The coffee slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a dull splatter that soaked into her shoes, but she didn't move, didn't even flinch.
Because sitting casually on her bed, like she belonged there, was Rebekah Mikaelson.
"Hello, Caroline," Rebekah purred, voice smooth, lazy — too calm.
Caroline's eyes darted to the two car strollers parked beside the bed. Rebekah cradled a baby in her arms, bottle in hand, as if this were some kind of twisted babysitting visit.
But what made Caroline's stomach twist wasn't the absurdity of it — it was the sharp, metallic tang of blood clinging to Rebekah's dark clothes, thick enough Caroline could smell it from where she stood.