Arabian (arabian) wrote,

Fic: How To Make a Better Vampire 14/24

Title: How To Make A Better Vampire
Chapter: 14 – Feelings, Nothing More Than Feelings [Featured Characters: Caroline, Klaus, Damon, Jeremy, Ghost!Ric, Elena]
Author: JenniferH (Arabian)
Rating: M (For future chapters/language, sex, violence)
Summary: Post 3.22 -- Elena grapples with who she is as a vampire, struggling for control as she tries to find herself and accept who she loves (spoiler: it's Damon!) while her friends and enemies grapple with their own choices in this new world.
Word Count: 5,303
Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries, and all her characters as presented, belong to Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, the CW, etc., etc., so on and so forth. ;)
Notes: Thank you to my group of wonderful beta-readers who made this fic a ton better than it would have been otherwise. Following canon here, so there will be Stefan/Elena and as portrayed on the show, but fear not, this is very definitely a Damon/Elena story (with other pairings referenced, and some featured (Stefan/Caroline, Matt/Rebekah, Jeremy/Bonnie, Stefan/Rebekah, Caroline/Klaus).

After I had finally digested the season 03 finale, I began to think up where they could go from there, especially with regards to Damon and Elena. One narrative stuck in my head and as I continuing weaving it I became so fixated with two major turning points in the story that I just had to try and write it. I've immersed myself in this for the last two and half months, trying to avoid spoilers or even read other fic. I have a head-start of sorts on the story and am hoping that I can stay at this pace so that I can deliver chapters at a steady pace. I can't promise that will stay the case, but I'm going to try. :)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Chapter 14: Feelings, Nothing More Than Feelings

Caroline sat in her car. She had been sitting there for five minutes. Give or take. She shut her eyes and gave herself a very stern mental talking to. Caroline, get out, march right up to the front door and just do it. She opened her eyes, turned to look at the box sitting in the passenger seat. She nodded firmly. She had to do this.

Spending a sleepless night tossing and turning because of her fight with Tyler, she’d finally given up, made some cocoa and done some serious thinking. Sure, Tyler had been an ass, but she had finally admitted to herself that there was a reason for his attitude. It wasn’t exactly unwarranted. Klaus had given her gifts… and she had accepted every single one. Klaus had played her protector more than once… and she had let him.

God! She threw her head back and banged it against her seat. Whatever this *thing* was between her and Klaus, it ended today. She was returning his stuff; she was cutting all ties. And she would apologize to Tyler the next time she saw him. And he damn well better say he’s sorry too, she thought vehemently.

“OK, Caroline, let’s do this.” She opened her door, walked around the side, grabbed Klaus’ stuff and with a firm nod began to march around that circular driveway.

Halfway through her first knock, Klaus opened the door.

“Caroline, I’d say what a lovely surprise, but you’ve been sitting in your car for the last three minutes so there goes the surprise. I was just wondering when you’d actually come to my door.”

“Well, I’m here.”

He smiled. “Yes.” Stepping back, he extended his arm. “Do come in.” She didn’t move. His smile dimmed.

“No. I’m just here to return your things.” She held out the box. “I should have returned them right away. I don't-- I don't know why I didn't.”

Klaus dropped his arms and let out an annoyed sigh. He did not take any of the items from her. “Darling, you kept them because you wanted them.”

“Number one, I’m not your ‘darling.’ And number two, no. No, I don’t want them. I don’t want anything to do with you. So here.” She thrust the box forward.

Throwing his head back, he let out a laugh and moved closer, leaning against the doorjamb with a sweet smile. “Whatever am I going to do with a dress? It's yours, Caroline. Your size, your color. Plus, you’ve worn the thing already.”

She lowered her arms and offered a wintry smile. “Well, I'm never going to wear it again!”

His smile faded, but his lips still quirked upward just the slightest. He looked down, but raised his eyes to glance at her from beneath his lashes, a seductive heat entering his gaze. “You should. You looked resplendent in it.”

Resplendent? Really? Who talks that way? Caroline thought, trying to not be affected, but the word echoed in her mind. Resplendent. He thinks I look resplendent. She straightened her shoulders and forced her lips into a hard line. Focus, Caroline! She pushed the box towards him again.

“Just take it, OK? I don't care what you do with it. You can play dress-up or toss it in one of your gazillion massive fireplaces for all I care, just take it. I don't want it.”

He was quiet, still gazing at her but he had yet to take the damn box.

“Klaus—“ she began, then cut herself off, not liking the note of entreaty there.

“You know,” he began and his voice was low, that sweet accent plucking at her romantic’s heart. “I picked the color because it matches your eyes. Such a lovely shade of blue, like the sky after the rains have cleansed the earth. So pure.”

A sigh escaped her. She was struck frozen, not even reacting when he reached out a finger and lightly grazed her cheek. “Heavenly,” he continued, the word nearly a whisper. He smiled again then, soft and gentle, while his eyes blazed an inferno of emotion.

Caroline fell a step back. “No,” she managed with a quick shake of her head. She tried to look away, but he held her trapped by his gaze. “I—I—I have to go,” she breathlessly managed.

He straightened up. “Of course.”

They both stood, still staring at one another and Caroline forced herself to look down. At the box. “No,” she repeated. “Take the box.” She held it out. “Take it!”

He gave a slow shake of his head.

Nearly vibrating with frustration and suppressed emotion, she let out a whimper of a scream. “Fine! You know what? Fine, then.” She took a step back and just let go. The box fell to the ground. “That felt good.” She smiled coolly. “I am done.”

She took a few steps backwards. “We – this thing, whatever – is done.” Caroline made a great show of washing her hands off. Klaus just stood there watching her, that quirk of his lips still there.

“Good day.” It felt right to say goodbye that way to him, Klaus and his old-world mentality. Turning around, she walked away, her heels clicking impressively on the driveway. She stood at her car, her fingers on the door handle when she found herself unable to not look over her shoulder to see if he was still watching her.

He was. And instead of just the mere quirk of his lips, a wide smile stretched across his face. When their eyes met, he tilted his head to the side. “Oh, Caroline.” She didn’t want him to talk. She wanted the last word. She *wanted* to look away!

But she didn’t. And he got the last word.

“You are glorious!”

And it was glorious. She hated it; she hated him. Because he made her feel glorious.

Because she *didn’t* hate him.


Looking through the refrigerator for something to munch on until Elena and Jeremy were ready, Damon sighed at the sad, sad contents in front of him. “Seriously, have either one of you ever heard of a food pyramid that doesn’t involve junk food?” He turned to face Jeremy entering the room as he shut the refrigerator behind him.


“Yeah, I thought not.” Damon rolled his eyes. “On a scale of one to ten, just how badly have you been eating since Ric bit it?”

Instead of answering, Jeremy turned from Damon and looked towards the door.

“You’ve been watching us eat?”


Jeremy turned to Damon. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Well, who you were talk—“ His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. “Ric? Is he here?”

Jeremy smiled. “Yeah.” He turned slightly and pointed to the entrance. “He’s standing right there.”

Damon looked at Jeremy a moment longer. Gulped. And then slowly slid his gaze to where Jeremy had indicated Ric stood. There was no one there. Of course, Damon mentally slapped himself. As if I could see him. Stupid. He forced a smile. “Hey, Ric.” Then he spared a quick glance to Jeremy. “Am I looking at the right place?”

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah.”

Damon turned around, bracing his hands against the countertop. “Ask if he likes his body’s new digs,” he managed, trying to keep his voice casual.

There was a pause, and then Jeremy responded. “Yeah. He figures if he couldn’t live in style in life, at least he’s doing it in death.”

Damon choked out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Silence filled the room as if no one, not even a ghost, knew what to say. And then Jeremy spoke up, his voice soft and Damon figured that maybe Ric did. “He misses you.”

Nodding, Damon forced himself to turn around, looking once more to an empty doorway. “Yeah. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Where’s Elena? She dealing OK after attacking Ric’s ex?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you—wait, yeah.”

Damon narrowed his eyes in confusion, but then quickly realized Ric had asked Jeremy a question.

“He meant Dr. Fell." Jeremy continued, casually having a conversation with a ghost. "Elena bit her last night, but she’s OK. Caroline was there and helped, I guess. I don’t know why she did it. Who knows why she does anything anymore? She’s a whacked-out vampire.” He paused. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Be nice, she's my sister. But sister or not, she's still kinda psycho right now." Jeremy looked at Damon.

“That’s why I want to talk to you—“ He broke off again, this time with a frustrated sigh. He shook his head. “He’s gone. I don’t know how it works. But he’s gone.”

Damon’s lips quirked up in a half-smile. “Didn’t get to say goodbye,” he murmured.

“You hate it, don’t you?”


“That you can’t see him or talk to him?” Jeremy walked closer, a sympathetic look on his face.

Damon was silent for a moment, emotions twisting inside. He bit off a cool smile and stepped back, increasing the distance between him and Jeremy. “You wanted to talk about Elena?” He asked, bluntly changing the subject.

Shaking his head, Jeremy sighed and then just nodded. “Yeah. Elena. Last night she said she’s fine, that Stefan told her how *great* she’s doing, then she just kinda blew us off and went upstairs.”

“Who’s we?”

“Bonnie. She went up and talked to her, but she wouldn’t tell me anything other than that it was girl stuff and that I just needed to give Elena space.” He scoffed. “But this Stefan thing… Damon, he’s gotta stop this shit. She’s *not* doing great. She’s so doing the opposite of great.”

Damon walked over to the island and pulled a chair out, sliding onto it. He was quiet, looking before him. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond. A part of him wanted to tell Jeremy that he was absolutely right and that his brother was a fucking idiot. However, another part of him wanted to tell Jeremy to shut the fuck up about his brother. He shook his head and settled for a compromise.

Turning to Jeremy, he let out an aggravated sigh. “Yeah, my baby bro’s course of action is not the best remedy, but she could be doing worse, and as long as she believes that this is the way to go, all we can do is sit back and let the pieces fall where they may.” He spread his arms expansively, unable to resist a saccharine smile. This was complete bullshit, he knew that. But he could only tell Stefan and Elena that so many times before they completely shut him out. And God only knows how those two crazy kids would do without any sane supervision.

“Do you really think that’s the best thing to do?” Jeremy asked incredulously as he moved to sit down opposite Damon.

“No. I don’t. But what I think doesn’t hold much sway with your sister.” Because she’s an idiot.

“Because she’s an idiot.” Jeremy spit out.

Damon’s brows raised in surprise. Great minds… dare I think? He let out a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, she’s an idiot. But she’s an idiot who is sticking to her guns. Those of us with working brain cells on our side just have to wait out the idiots of the world.”

“Including your baby bro?” The disgust was palpable in Jeremy’s tone. Damon laughed again, this time in a nearly genuine fashion.

“Yes, Jere, like my baby bro.”

Jeremy smiled, but with a shake of his head, it faded as he met Damon’s gaze. “It’s really hard not to hate him right now.”

Damon’s smile died. Jeremy, more than anyone else, got it. He loved Elena completely, unselfishly. Just like Damon did. Well, not *just* like Damon did, he couldn’t help but amend with a smirk.

“What?” Jeremy asked.

“Nothing.” He reached out and gripped Jeremy’s shoulder, surprising himself but if today wasn’t a day to connect with someone who loved the same people he did, then when? “I get it, you know. About Stefan. I get it. I beat the shit out of him when I found out what he did. Elena pulled me off of him.” He laughed harshly, dropping his hand. “Good thing she did. I could’ve killed him. Really, truly staked the shit out of him. I was that pissed off.”

Jeremy nodded.

“But he does love her. And she loves him. And, God help me, I love them both so… not much else I can do.”

“But what about you and her? I mean, I saw you two in Denver…” he trailed off.

Damon laughed with a shake of his head. “You’re a big boy, Jere. It’s called lust.”

“I don’t mean that.” Jeremy smiled wryly. “I mean, I don’t mean just that. The two of you, the way you talked, the way she was always looking at you when you weren’t looking at her. The way, you know, she said your name. It’s not one-sided. It goes both ways. I know my sister.”

Eyes widening in surprise that Jeremy would admit such a thing, Damon looked down, his voice low. “I know.” He raised his head and met Jeremy’s gaze. “But she doesn’t. Not yet. She’s not ready. She needs Stefan right now. Hell if I know why, but she thinks she does.”

“So you’re backing off?”

“I have backed off. I’m only here now because of this burial. Whatever is going on between me and Elena, neither one of us is going to deprive the other of saying goodbye to Ric.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, but—“ He broke off, and Damon tilted his head slightly, a question in his gaze. “You know what you said about Stefan? I get it too. I'm pissed at her. That she made that choice without thinking of what it would do to me if she died. I'm pissed off, yeah, but mostly I’m worried about her. I’m afraid she’s gonna lose it again. That student at school. Dr. Fell. Who’s next? Bonnie, Matt? Me? She’s—I’m just worried.”

“I’m fine.”

Damon looked to the door, his breath stolen for a moment as he took in the sight of Elena. She was dressed in the same black dress she’d worn for Jenna and John’s funeral, but her hair was down, flowing in waves around her face, unlike the straight line she usually wore. There was very little make-up on her face, but she didn’t need it. She was beautiful. She met his gaze and for a moment, everything else disappeared, that connection firing up on all cylinders between them. He could feel the emotions emanating off of her with a ferocious energy.

“Elena…” Jeremy spoke up beside him. He rose to his feet and walked towards her. “I’m just worried about you.” He reached out and took her hands. Elena finally looked away from Damon and smiled at her brother. If Jeremy noticed how fake it was, he didn’t say anything.

Damon cleared his throat and stood up, forcing his own smile. “Let’s get this show on the road. Ric’s ever-decaying corpse isn’t gonna bury itself.”

Elena looked over at him, but didn’t speak. She just glanced down, then away as she took her brother’s arm. “Let’s go,” she murmured softly and walked out without looking back.

Waiting a beat, Damon looked upward and let out a long exhalation of breath. I could really use you right about now, buddy. He straightened his tie and followed the siblings out, knowing that no matter how much he wanted Ric back, he was all alone right now.


Miracle of miracles, Elena had not cried once all afternoon. Not when she arrived at the Salvatore crypt. Not when she saw Ric’s name carved on the slab of stone carrying his ‘ever-decaying corpse.’ Not when Mr. Davis – Mystic Falls’ funeral director – spoke glowingly of Ric. Not when Jeremy broke down. Not even when Damon looked away, the shine of tears in his eyes, a hand reaching out to grip Jeremy's shoulder.

No, she was stoic, holding herself together by sheer force of will. She knew that if she let herself grieve, that if she opened herself up to the emotions filling her, she wouldn’t be able to hold any of it in. Not just her grief, but her guilt over what she had done to Meredith Fell, her guilt over Stefan. Her… every feeling about Damon.

Finally, she was home, safe in her bedroom. Jeremy was quiet in his room and Damon was hopefully gone. Now she was alone. Now she could cry. As if her body had been patiently waiting for permission, the moment the thought appeared, tears began to fall. She dropped down onto her bed, grabbing at Mr. Bear, holding tightly as harsh sobs began to shake her. And it suddenly was so much, too much. Her whole body felt heavy. Her heart was full to bursting with the agony of it. So many people she loved were lost and gone, and she was still here, forced to bear the burden of their loss, of her life taken, but she was still here... dead, but not. Still dealing with the weight of it all. It was too much. She didn't think she would, could ever stop this torrent of tears from falling.

“Hey, hey, hey.” His voice was soft, soothing… as soft and soothing as his hands as he smoothed down her hair, beginning to pull her into his arms. Elena turned into his embrace, her fingers clutching the lapels of his suit jacket. “Ssh, ssh, it’s OK. It’s OK, I got you, Elena.”

Just like the last time he was in her room, when Damon said her name, reality splashed over her like cold water. She jerked back, springing to the headboard and flattening herself against the wood. “No,” she cried softly, her face wet with tears still falling. Through that film, she saw frustration and pain on his face. And suddenly, unfairly she was furious with him because she thought he understood.

He had told her that at the Lockwood caves. He had told her he understood. Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me, Damon? she screamed in her head. But it was Damon. She didn’t have to hold back with Damon. He could take it. He would take it.

“Why are you here? I thought you understood.” She cried to him. Rising to his feet, a hand roughly drew through his hair. He let out an exasperated sigh, but she kept on. “I thought you knew, Damon, that I can't— I can't be around you.” Elena rose to her knees, looking at him, drinking in the sight of him before her. He was so beautiful, so beautiful it hurt to look at him, it hurt with the longing to just *be* with him.

A sob shook her. I thought you understood. I thought you understood, the lament continued in a loop in the back of her mind. “I want too much,” she whispered. “I want you too much.”

He shook his head and looked to her, anguish on his face. . “Elena, you're hungry. That's all it is. It's not me, not this. I just thought today... You, we shouldn't be alone. We need to—“ She shook her head violently, cutting him off without words, barely taking in what he said. I thought you understood. I thought you understood.

She crawled across the bed, crawling towards him. The agony ripping through her gave way to a different emotion at the sight of him. He took a step back. She rose to her knees again and then stood up, her words nearly a cry of despair, of desperation and of desire. She wanted him; she wanted him so much. “Is that what you want? Is that what you want to hear?” The tears were drying up, but the feelings welled within her like a tidal wave. She moved closer, closer to him. Elena reached out, pulling lightly at his tie, looking at the floor, unable to look at him even as the words kept flying out of her mouth like bullets ricocheting in her heart. “That I want you so desperately that I can't think straight around you?”

Agony danced across his face. He shook his head, trying to deny her words. “That's not why I'm here. Ric, what happened today, I saw you. I watched you. I knew how bad it was for you. I just wanted to be here for you.” She closed her eyes slowly before opening them again, wondering if she could see a lie on him. “Elena, just take it easy, OK? Calm down—“

“I can't.” She smiled, laughter erupting along with a fresh welling of tears. “I can't calm down.” She let go of his tie, her laughter fading as she reached out, running her hands up and down his chest. “With you here, standing in front of me, me feeling so much. I feel so, so much, Damon,” she cried. “Don’t you see? I can't be in the same room with you without wanting to tear into you, wanting you to tear into me. I can't resist you, Damon.” Lowering her arms, she moved a step closer, pressing up against him.

“Elena,” her name escaped him like a breath. His mouth crashed down on hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She moaned into him, her lips parting, her tongue sliding, slipping, dancing alongside, against, with his. It felt like heaven. He was heaven. Without breaking free, she jerked at his jacket, tugging it off of him. Next came his tie and then she was ripping at the buttons of his shirt. He slipped his hands under her dress, lifting her up and then dropping her onto the bed, his body covering hers with a glorious weight that made her breathless in anticipation.

Her hands ran wildly through his hair, she began nipping at his jaw, his neck, her fangs dipping out as she bit into his throat. He shuddered on top of her as he cupped her breasts through her dress, his thumbs tracing her nipples with increasing intensity. She thrust upwards, feelings his erection press into the vee between her thighs. She hated her dress, hated his slacks. She wanted flesh against flesh. She wanted flesh in flesh.

“Damon,” she cried out his name, gripping him tightly.

And then all she felt was air. He was across the room, leaning against her bedroom door, breathing heavily. His shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, his hair was standing up wildly, shooting off in different directions. There was blood on his throat. Elena lay sprawled on the bed, her legs splayed apart, her dress bunched up around her waist, her panties tugged down on one side.

The only sound in the room was their heavy panting. Moments passed. The silence between them built as their breathing eased. Mortification rose within her. Elena looked away from him as tears began to fall again as the realization of what she had almost done again filled her. She gasped as uncontrollable, unreasonable, terrible emotions took hold. Heavy guilt for betraying Stefan again before she even had the chance to tell him they were over. Repugnance at herself for wanting Damon more than wanting to take care of herself. Fury with him for not staying away, for not understanding when he said he did. She rose up, practically yelling at him. “Get out.”

“Elena,” he began, but she couldn’t hear him, didn’t want to listen. I thought you understood was now screaming in her head. “Get out!” she did yell this time.

Her bathroom door burst open. She turned. Jeremy stood there, his mouth hanging open in shock. Red flooded through her. She tugged her dress down, ran a hand through her hair. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, everything was spinning like a roller coaster gone mad and she just wanted to get thrown off.

As if from far away, Elena heard Damon speak to Jeremy. "I'm not helping her. I'm making things worse." And then he was gone. She didn’t look up, didn’t see him leave, but she felt his presence go.

However, Jeremy remained.

“Elena, you can’t keep doing this.” She shook her head, trying to block him out.

“Just go, go, go.” He was quiet. She looked up at him, barely seeing him through her veil of tears. "God, Jeremy, just get out. Leave me alone. I can't deal with you right now." She wasn't angry with him, she was angry with Damon, she told herself but in an instant knew that to be a lie. Damon was completely blameless. She was angry with herself. Too angry to deal with her brother and his teenage angst. She needed him to leave; she needed to calm down and just get under control.

The room was quiet, but Jeremy didn't leave and his refusal to just listen for once sent a fresh wave of frustrated fury through her. Swiping at her eyes, Elena glared at him. She didn't care that he was mourning Ric all over again, that he was still trying to deal with her vampire-state. She just didn't care right now about anything but her pain, her rage. "Get out, Jeremy!"

“No, I won’t!” He yelled at her, breaking through her wall of chaos. She looked up at him. His face was red, splotchy and wet. “You think you’re the only one in pain? You think you’re the only one suffering? I’m suffering, Elena. I’m in pain! And I’m sick of this. I’m sick of everything being about you! I loved Ric too and I lost him too, and I needed you. I needed you to be there for me today, but you were all stuck up in your own world. Damon was the one to comfort me! Not you. No, not you. Elena’s too busy feeling sorry for herself.”

She flew off the bed, standing right in front of him. “Feeling sorry for myself? Thinking about only me?” She cried. “Where have you been? Ever since mom and dad died, I have been trying to be *everything* for you. Mother, father, sister, friend. Everything. And you just keep pushing me away.”

He laughed in her face. “Me? What about you? You're so wrapped up in your drama, you have no time for anyone else. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you being so fucking selfish—“

“I’m selfish?!” Her mouth fell open in shock as disbelief coursed through her.

“Yes, Elena, selfish! You’re the most selfish person I know. Sacrificing yourself over and over again, not thinking about me and the people who love you. Who need you. *I* need you! But, no, you’re too busy playing the martyr.”

Elena took a step back, anguish and rage filling her. How could he? How *dare* he? “I have tried to so hard to take care of you, and I’ll I ever get back is ATTITUDE!” She leaned forward, shoving an angry finger into his chest. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through. How hard all of this has been—“

“See, there you go again! Always thinking about poor, poor Elena. Never mind what the rest of us have lost. If you weren’t so selfish, you would still be alive. You’d still be human. My sister.”

“I am still your sister!” She yelled.

“You’re a vampire!” He fired back.

A sob, not of despair, but of rage escaped her. “I. Am. Still. Your. Sister!”

“I wish you weren’t,” he muttered.

She was quiet, gasping, this time in pain. He looked at her, boiling resentment in his gaze.

“Everything is always about you. It’s *always* about you. You’re so important. All about you, all about the *doppelganger.*” He shook his head in disgust, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I wish my parents had never adopted you. That your *real* mom had kept you away from us. That you were never a part of my life.”

Every word he said was like a dagger, the pain consuming her. She knew he was in agony. Somewhere in the back of her mind where reason lay, she knew that he didn’t mean any of it, not one word. Everything, all of his pain and anger over the last week – losing Ric, losing her – all of the pain and chaos over the last year and a half and so much of it he had kept bottled up… that was where this was all coming from. She tried to breathe. She tried to calm down.

“Shut up, shut up,” she whispered, but he ignored her and kept on and on and on. He leaned forward, biting the words off in righteous anger. “If they'd never taken you, *my* mom and dad would still be alive. Everything would still be normal.” Tears began to stream down his face, and his voice was choked with sobs as he continued, sounding like the baby brother she remembered when he was hurting so badly. “It’s all your fault,” he cried. "I hate you!"

His voice was ringing in her head as he screamed over and over. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” Then it was too much. Elena exploded, his vehement declaration igniting a firestorm of fury within her, blazing so hot and incendiary that she could only see the flames burning her up. She reached out for him.

And she snapped.

Her hands around his neck. She snapped.

Jeremy fell to the floor with a sickening thud, his face frozen in hate and horror.

All of the rage drained from her in an instant. A keening wail escaped her. She fell to her knees, reaching out for him, but she couldn’t touch him. If she touched him, it would be real.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” She backed away. She stared at his still form. “Nooooooo,” she cried quietly, so quietly that even another vampire wouldn't hear her. Rising to her feet, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She drifted to the dresser as if in a trance, her hands sorting through the contents lying there.

“No, no, no, no, no,” she cried again and again. Her fingers curled around her phone. Without looking, without thought, she dialed a number, the only number that mattered. Bringing the phone to her face, she stared and she stared and she stared at her lifeless brother lying on her bedroom floor. “No, no, no, no,” she cried again and again.


“I killed him.” She closed her eyes, the words finally making the image of her dead brother too much. “I killed Jeremy.”


Author's Note: Just gotta say, the end of this chapter is the number #1 reason I had to write this fic. Needless to say, this was not an easy chapter to write. It went through a lot edits. I hope it works for most.

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Tags: caroline forbes, caroline/klaus, damon salvatore, damon/alaric, damon/elena, damon/jeremy, elena gilbert, fic: ...bettervampire, jeremy gilbert, the vampire diaries

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