Part 3 of the first part of my Charmed/TVD crossover.
Her mother had died of cancer before the world went to hell. At the time, it had been heartbreaking, had nearly sent her into a spiral of self-destruction. Afterwards, she had been relieved. She had barely kept herself alive, had known she would have never been able to keep Liz alive, and at least that was one less person to see murdered.
But the house had been left to Caroline, and she had never bothered to put it on the market.
“It looks like a dump,” Chris stated as they snuck in. Mystic Falls was still small, still full of gossip, and Wyatt had spies everywhere.
“It could use a little love,” Caroline agreed. She walked down the hall, pausing for a moment in front of a picture – her and her parents, before their divorce and Caroline became a foolish girl who was turned into a less foolish vampire. She was ten and beaming out at the picture. In Caroline’s mind, it had always been proof of a happier time, but as she looked at it, she could see that the signs were already there. The way Liz and Bill kept a careful distance between them, the way neither of their smiles quite reached their eyes.
A broken family that just didn’t know it yet.
“You were a cute kid,” Chris commented from behind her. Caroline ran a finger around her smiling face and shook her head, trying to dislodge the memories.
“I’m still cute,” she shot over her shoulder with a quick, flirtatious smile. She knew she shouldn’t do that, not when she still didn’t quite trust him, not when she wasn’t certain she could trust anymore. But something about being in her childhood home… it made her feel closer to the Caroline she used to be. The one that enjoyed flirting an dthe danger of playing bait to Klaus’ Big Bad Wolf.
Chris didn’t immediately reply to her flirtations, so she looked back at him. He watched her, his head cocked to the side, an odd little smile on his face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“No reason… you’re just… different here. That’s all. Happier somehow. It makes me wish we could stay.”
“I’m not that different,” Caroline replied with a shrug that turned into a shoulder roll as she entered her mother’s office. It was untouched from the days when it had just been the two of them, and the safe against the wall lived up to its lifetime warranty as Caroline entered the combination and slid it open slowly. “After all, I didn’t exactly come here to reminisce.”
“Guns?” Caroline pulled out the lightweight handgun that her mother had always favored and held it just like Liz had taught her. She thought it might feel alien in her hand, but maybe shooting guns was like riding a bicycle, because it felt just as natural in her palm as it had when she was sixteen and had finally convinced her mother they could stop with the weekly visits to the shooting range after hitting ten headshots in a row on one of the targets. “They belonged to my mother. She kept them in perfect condition until she died. Then I kept them in perfect condition until the world went to hell.”
“Why are we taking guns?” Chris asked, taking the canvas bag Caroline handed to him and holding it open as she began to load it up with ammo.
“Because despite what you might think, a bullet to the head kills a demon just as surely as an athame to the heart,” Caroline replied. She tucked the handgun into her belt and grabbed her mother’s spare, tucking it into Chris’. He stared at it with wide, startled eyes, and Caroline turned back to the safe, pulling out the assault rifle that her mother had taught her to shoot, then forbid her to ever touch again. “I always hated this gun. Mom did, too. I wondered for the longest time why she even had it, when she looked it with so much distaste. Then I found out it was my dad’s, and that that was why she kept it. It was weirdly sweet and totally twisted at the same time.”
“You don’t like it either,” Chris noted, sharp gaze on her face as she slung the rifle over her shoulder by the strap attached to it. She double checked that the safety was on, and adjusted it for comfort.
“If you like what you’ve become at the end of the world, you’re doing it wrong,” Caroline retorted simply. “No come on. One of the neighbors will notice us here at any moment, and if your brother is smart, he’ll be keeping an eye on this place.”
Chris held his hand out to her, and she looked at it with confusion.
“Shimmering?” he asked after a moment, motioning her hand at her. “The quickest way to make a clean escape.”
Caroline reached out and grasped his hand, feeling some embarrassment. Of course. Shimmering. Two years, and she still hadn’t grown used to the ability, still replied on her speed and wits more than any stolen power.
You’ve been underusing this, Sweetheart.
It galled her, the memory of Barbas’ words and the knowledge that he was right. The amulet hung heavy around her neck, a reminder that she could have power, if she would just take it, instead of relying on abilities that could turn out to be too little at any point.
Case in point – her flight from the demons in the mall.
“You said that Wyatt would sense it, if you orbed?” she asked after a moment.
“Yes…” Chris replied slowly, the word dragging out as he clearly wondered what she was hoping to discover.
“You want me to trust you, then I will. But I need you to orb.”
“You want me to bring my brother right to us?” Chris replied incredulously. “Why the hell would you want that?”
“I don’t want you to bring Wyatt. I want you to bring his demons,” Caroline replied, and she began to feel excitement grow in her as a plan formed. “That’s who he sent after me last time-”
“Last time you didn’t have his brother. Maybe you’ve forgotten, but Wyatt is rather protective of me. “
Caroline’s excitement disappeared at the reminder, and she remembered blood once more. Blood and screaming and running away in terror.
“Did you think you could truly defeat me?”
Elena glared at Wyatt, her hand at Chris’ neck.
“Take another step, and I snap his neck. He has vampire blood, so he’ll come back… but witches don’t do very good as our kind.”
Wyatt hesitated, and there was pure venom in his gaze as he stared Elena down. Caroline stood in the shadows, wishing she could stop the madness. But Wyatt had Damon, so Elena took Chris, and now here they all stood. Wyatt stared at them, and Chris was muttering under his breath, and Caroline pitied him and the fear he must be feeling.
“Give me Damon,” Elena said fiercely. “Give me Damon and you can have your brother back unharmed.”
“Damon?” Wyatt looked genuinely puzzled. One of the demons closest to him murmured something, and the confusion became a dark smirk. “Ah, the creature like you. All I can give you is his rotting corpse. My demons killed him already.”
Caroline wasn’t surprised; she had thought Damon was likely dead, as soon as he had missed the rendezvous, but Elena had been so sure, and maybe that certainty had been contagious, because Wyatt’s words made Caroline feel a pang of grief.
It was nothing to Elena’s. She let out a pained sob, and then she moved to snap Christopher’s neck.
Bonnie cursed, and Caroline very nearly did as well. The potion had been administered, his powers should be gone…
A spell, Caroline realized with surprise. He had been muttering a spell to counter the potion.
Timed perfectly for his brother’s rescue.
Christopher out of the way, Wyatt stepped forward, a long sword appearing in his hands. It glowed with power, and though it wasn’t wood, it had the same effect as a stake through the heart when Wyatt stabbed her with it, shoving her greying body away with a boot.
Then it was Stefan shouting in grief and attacking, and he met the same fate. Bonnie muttered spells, but Wyatt just laughed and her blood joined Elena and Stefan’s. Caroline met Enzo’s gaze, and he was gone before Matt’s body could join the others.
Caroline didn’t stay to watch Tyler or his witch girlfriend fall.
Caroline jerked when Chris reached out to touch her arm, pulling away almost violently. He took a stumbling step back in surprise at her response, and would have fallen, if Caroline hadn’t flashed forward at the last moment and helped him regain his footing.
“Are you okay?” he asked as they stood there, her hand gripping his arm, him looking down at her. She looked up at him and said nothing. His eyes were incredibly green, this close, and she could even see a couple of freckles, dusted across his nose.
He was sort of beautiful, she realized with a surprised jolt, and a lot more grown up than he had been three years ago. Then he had been gangly and awkward – all arms and legs. He had grown into his height and limbs, and while he would never be as broad or built as strongly as his brother, there was still a strength to Chris, that she could feel in the muscle beneath her hand.
His free hand came up and cupped her cheek, and when he pulled her into a kiss, she let him. She would blame being in the house that reminded her of a different Caroline, a more careless Caroline, but the simple truth was that she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her and make her forget the ghosts that lived within these walls, the ghosts that haunted the whole damn town.
And God, but she wanted to trust him.
She kissed him back, bringing her own hand, the one that wasn’t still gripping his arm, up to rest over the one on her cheek. It was a sweet kiss. Soft and tender and full of all sorts of promises.
“You should probably stop kissing me,” she said, her eyes still closed, when they finally broke apart. Her tongue flicked out, trying to savour the taste of him on her lips. She felt him run his thumb along her cheek and heard him chuckle.
“I’ll stop kissing you, when you stop kissing me back,” he replied, and then he bent down again. This time, the kiss was harder, more passionate. He weaved his hand into her hair and pulled his arm from her grip to wrap it around her back. Caroline reached up, twining her arms around his neck and kissing him right back.
And when she stood there after they broke apart, both of them breathing frantically, but neither taking a step away from the other, Caroline realized that it didn’t matter if her mind warned her against trusting him.
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