[open] a little taste of hypocrisy and i'm left in the wake of my mistake

[persevere]

Who: Caroline Forbes + OTA + Closed Starters
Where: Everywhere
When: August + September
Rating: PG-13, anything higher will be marked
Summary: Caroline has a lot to make up for, but she'll do the best she can.
The Story:

Comments

/flings self into a pit of fire as i weep

[eyething]

( Damon sits across from her. There aren't words sometimes. Words could not possibly do those last and final moments with Liz any kind of justice, and so he's grateful as a vampire, he doesn't have to try to describe it. He reaches across the table and rests his hands over her own. Some moments it's impossible to forget- some moments become a part of them so intrinsically that they're tied in from one day to the next.

He closes his eyes too.

Then he gives the memory to her fully, wholly, reliving it in the same moment. He really hasn't since it happened, because it's far easier to avoid than to feel the weight of it as it crashes down.

There's this grief. There's this missing spot inside of him, which will always belong to Liz. No matter what else happens. No matter where else he goes. No matter how much time has passed. No one is ever going to take her spot in his life like no one- absolutely no one could ever take her place as Caroline's mother in her whole life.

And what a wonderful mother she was, what a beautiful person. In her final moment, she worried about her daughter, she challenged Damon to be better, she faced her fate with bravery.

It happens to the best of them. They're the ones who die too soon. They're the ones who feel too much pain, and he'll always be angry that she was taken from this world too soon while so many others lived on. )

/flings myself in after you

[persevere]

[She sucks in a visible breath as the darkness shifts into the color of his memory; she stands in the room, watching them talk, and her eyes catch the sight of her mother's face and don't leave.

She looks so sick, yet comfortable, or as comfortable as anyone dying of cancer can be. She watches as she chuckles, as she cries, as she speaks about her. She wants to tell her she's wrong, that she's just as special, even more so, but she knows her Mom won't hear her.

She listens to the things Damon says to her, how they calm her in those final moments, how her Mom manages to smile.

Caroline doesn't even feel herself start to cry silently; she only realizes once the first tears start to drop from her jaw, as she finally releases a single, quiet sob.

When she comes out of it, she's still crying, rivers running gently down her face, but she's also smiling. Her grip on his hands are tight, as if she's clinging to him, to this memory he has of his mother that she can now carry too. Her breath is shaky as she exhales, her voice a determined whisper.]

Thank you.

[Not just for sharing this with her, but for what he did for her Mom.

He'd made sure she wasn't alone.]

[eyething]

( damon does not say anything at first as the memory fades. in fact, he can't even manage a you're welcome. somehow it doesn't seem right. it's not like he did anything beyond the very basic, and it's not like he doesn't owe her plenty for- for a lot of things. he's never unaware of the pain created from his hands. he just doesn't revel in it anymore (use it as an excuse, armor himself as if it somehow keeps him from being who he had been. from taking on that role of a victim again if he were the monster instead ).

he only ends up nodding in response to acknowledge that it meant something to her that he gave her this memory and that he was there with her mother in the end. damon's grateful for the very same- he's grateful that liz didn't have to be alone even if he understands how deeply caroline wanted to be there in her last conscious moments.

and she deserved to be there.

he understands that now too. the importance of saying goodbye.

damon turns his hand in her own, squeezing it gently, before he pushes himself up to his feet slowly to give her some time to herself. )