❝grief is the great unifier.❞
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"BONNIE! HOW'S CAROLINE?" Elena and Charlotte stop in the hallway of the hospital in front of the witch, who faces them with teary eyes.

"She's weak. They don't know if she's gonna make it,"

Charlotte turns away, pressing her hands against her face roughly as emotion swells up in her.

"What?" Elena's voice echoes quietly, disbelief lacing the word. "Is there something you can do, like– like a spell, or something?"

"She doesn't know how," Damon's voice startles them all, and Charlotte goes to give him a small smile in greeting that falters when she sees the odd look on his face. "Do you?"

Bonnie looks unhappy to see Damon in general, but she looks even more put out at the thought of him being right about her powers. "No, I don't."

"No, you don't," He repeats. "Because it took Emily years to learn a spell like that."

"Yeah, well I can take down a vampire. That spell was easy to learn."

"Enough, both of you," Charlotte cuts in, giving them both warning looks. "We need to focus on saving Caroline. She can't– she can't die."

Damon turns towards her, voice lowering. "I can give Caroline some blood,"

"No. No way," Elena immediately shakes her head, looking at Damon.

"No, just enough to heal her," Damon quickly assures, his focus still on Charlotte. "She'll be safe in the hospital and it'll be out of her system in a day. She'll be better."

Elena sighs, looking at her sister. "You have to admit it's risky,"

"It is," Charlotte agrees, looking apologetic. "But do we have any other options?"

"Do it." Bonnie's agreement startles them all, including Damon, but the witch just looks at Elena. "This is Caroline, okay? We can't let her die."

Bonnie looks back at Damon, repeating herself. "Do it."

The vampire narrows his eyes at the witch. "If I do this, you and me," He gestures between them. "Call a truce?"

"No," Bonnie says easily, shrugging. "But you'll do it anyway. For Charlie."

Charlotte's brows furrow, and she looks at Bonnie, who spares her an apologetic glance.

Elena heaves a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let's go. I don't want to leave Matt by himself."

Bonnie nods in agreement, and the two girls walk off, leaving Charlotte and Damon alone in the hallway.

"Alright, I know this is probably the last thing you wanna do right now, but we should talk about what happened tonight." Damon tilts his head towards Charlotte, and she looks up at him, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, a vampire got into my house and almost killed John," Charlotte scoffs, disbelief in her voice.

Damon rears his head back, confusion twisting on his features. "What? What– when? What are you talking about, after I left?"

Charlotte mirrors his look of confusion. "You were there?"

"Come on, sunshine, you know I was," Damon huffs, rolling his eyes. "You asked me to come over, and I did. You know what happened."

Charlotte's look of utter confusion only deepens. "No, I told you to come over later tonight after everyone went to sleep. I didn't get home until like 9:30 because I couldn't find my stuff. Someone, like, stole my dress and all my stuff from the Grill."

"Really?" Damon raises his brows, voice low. "Earlier, on the porch we were talking, all cathartic, feelings exposed. Come on, we kissed, Charlotte."

A flush fills out the girl's cheeks and she huffs, shaking her head. "Uh, no– no we did not. I would very much remember that, Damon."

"Hey, look, if you wanna forget it happened, fine. But I can't." Damon grabs her wrists in his hands, squeezing gently.

"This isn't funny, Damon," Charlotte huffs, looking away as her embarrassment flushes her face further. "You– you know I wouldn't do that and then just pretend it didn't happen."

"Then why–"

"Charlie, I came as soon as I got your message," Jenna's voice cuts him off, and Damon winces, looking away from the woman as she spares a scathing glance in his direction. "How's John?"

Charlotte shrugs, looking at Jenna. "Where have you been?"

Jenna looks at her niece, shock on her face at the slightly scolding tone. "At the fire department, I had to fill out a report. I told you earlier–"

"No, you didn't,"

Jenna huffs. "Yes, I did."

Charlotte scoffs, bringing her hands up to tug at her roots for a second. "I am very tired of people telling me things I supposedly did or knew when there is quite literally no way that I just don't remember them."

"Okay, well I'm telling you, I told you when you got home earlier. It was either you, or Elena, but I'm pretty sure I can tell the two of you apart."

"I didn't get home until almost ten, and Elena rode with me, so I really don't know who you talked to, Jenna."

"Oh."

The two girls turn to look at Damon, having momentarily forgotten his presence.

Something irritated and surprised, mixed with a thousand other things, crosses over Damon's face and he rolls his eyes violently. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me," He drops his gaze back down to the aunt and niece, and turns away from them sharply, disappearing around the corner.

Jenna spares his retreating figure a confused look before she looks back to her niece. "What's his problem?"

"I don't know," Charlotte shakes her head, her confusion split down the middle with concern.

Damon had come to some realization that he didn't seem to want to share with her, at least not in front of Jenna, and with every other left turn the night had taken, Charlotte wasn't sure she even wanted to know herself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Walking back into her house, Charlotte could feel the exhaustion in her sore feet. With Caroline healing because of Damon's blood, and the doctor's reassurance that John would at least survive the night, Charlotte had been thinking about nothing but going to bed, because it would finally put an end to the long day.

Elena and Damon walked in behind her, and Elena bumped into Charlotte when the girl stopped suddenly, eyes falling to where Stefan was pushing himself up off the floor, chest heaving.

"Stefan?" Elena's concerned voice broke the silence that had quickly fallen.

"Elena," Stefan looked between the twins, his voice conveying his relief.

"What happened?" Charlotte looked around, finding no sign of wreckage anywhere else.

Stefan's gaze shot to his brother, who was looking around with that same disbelief from earlier at the hospital. "Katherine happened."

"What?" Elena and Charlotte echoed each other, looking at the Salvatore brothers warily.

Charlotte shook her head, stepping towards Stefan. "Katherine couldn't have gotten in here, though, right? Who would've invited her in?"

"Jenna," Damon says, giving Charlotte a suddenly apologetic look that has her stomach dropping nervously.

"I– we need to tell Jeremy, right?" Elena cuts in, looking at her sister.

Charlotte nods easily, waving Elena off. "Go talk to him,"

Elena disappears up the stairs and Charlotte waits for her to be out of earshot before looking at Stefan. "What did she do to you?"

Stefan shakes his head, still looking discombobulated. "She just pretended to be Elena. She tried to kiss me, but I realized it was her before she could."

"Did she say what she wanted?" Damon asked, looking uncomfortable.

"No,"

"Woman certainly knows how to make an entrance,"

Charlotte can't help but agree, though she's uncomfortable at the thought of Katherine being anywhere in her vicinity.

"She said she fooled one of us at least," Stefan recalls, looking at Damon. "What does that– what does that mean?"

"She pretended to be Charlotte when I showed up earlier tonight," Damon says, glancing over at the girl.

Realization hits Charlotte suddenly, and her jaw drops slightly as she looks at Damon, who seems to recognize that she's put the pieces together. She takes a step towards him but stops herself from outwardly comforting him as her sister walks back into the room.

"I told Jeremy. I can't lie to him anymore," Elena crosses her arms over her chest, looking distraught.

Stefan walks towards his girlfriend, concern shining in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright," She huffs. "I thought that with all the tomb vampires gone, things would get better."

"I know," Stefan nods sympathetically. "We all did."

"Katherine's been in this house, that means she's been invited in," Elena says, looking at the others. "What are we gonna do?"

"Move," Damon suggests, earning a slightly annoyed glance from the twins that he smirks at.

Charlotte sighs. "That's not helpful, Damon,"

"Katherine wants you dead, there's zero you can do about it, you'd be dead," His voice is cheerful, despite his words, and it makes Charlotte smile despite herself. "But you're not! So clearly she has other plans."

"Oh, good," Charlotte slaps her hands against her thighs, tugging at the hem of her skirt. "So we just have to figure out the evil plans of me and Elena's evil vampire ancestor and somehow stop her from killing all of us."

Damon points at her, whistling. "Bingo, sunshine."

"What happened tonight when you thought she was Charlie?" Stefan asks, looking at his brother inquisitively.

"Well, to risk another frown line on a very crowded forehead," Damon starts, eyes narrowing at Stefan.

"He told me they just talked," Charlotte cuts in, ignoring Damon's gaze on her profile as she turns to look at her sister and Stefan. "I mean, does it really matter anyway? She still pretended to be me, and she can obviously pretend to be Elena."

Elena, oblivious to the quick lie her sister told, and the obviousness in which Stefan caught it, looks between them. "John must know something. There has to be a reason why Katherine tried to kill him."

"She's Katherine!" Damon starts, leaning against the far wall of the dining room. "She loves to play games, and you're fooling yourself if you think you're gonna find out what she's up to before she wants you to know."

"No, actually, Elena's right," Stefan says, giving his brother a knowing look at his sudden defensiveness following Charlotte's lie. "John could know something through Isobel. Your mother, she was in touch with Katherine so maybe we can go to the hospital, and get him to talk."

Elena's already nodding along with Stefan's plan, but Damon's quick to argue. "I've got a better idea."

Sharing an exasperated look with her boyfriend, Elena turns to look at him. "What's that?"

"I'm just gonna ignore the bitch," Damon smirks, voice low. "See ya."

"I–is that smart?"

"If Katherine thinks she's being ignored, it'll lure her out. She'll make a move."

Stefan nods, shrugging at his brother's cocksure attitude. "Yeah? Then what?"

Damon glances at Charlotte, who's fallen silent. He quickly looks away, back towards his brother. "Stake her. Rip her head off. Something poetic. We'll see."

He disappears without another word, and Charlotte presses her fingers into her eyes, ignoring the emotions swirling violently inside her.

"It's been a long day," Charlotte says suddenly, looking at the two lingering in the dining room. "You're welcome to stay, Stefan, but I think we should get to bed."

Stefan gives her a grateful nod and she squeezes Elena's arm as she passes by, heading for the stairs.

Despite being exhausted, Charlotte doesn't fall asleep for hours, stuck on the thought that Damon had kissed Katherine thinking it was her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Looks like the whole town has turned out," Jenna comments as they walk towards the steps of the Lockwood mansion.

Charlotte crosses her arms over her chest uncomfortably, her black dress scrunching up as she squeezes herself.

"Yeah, well, he is–" Elena cuts herself off, looking upset. "Was the mayor."

"Why don't they save it for the funeral?" Jeremy asks, tone entirely disinterested as he looks around.

Charlotte nudges him in the side, giving him a scolding look he ignores.

"It's what people do," Jenna shook her head. "The Lockwoods were here for us when we went through this. You know– it'll be quick, we'll drop off the food, pay our respects, and go."

"In and out?" Jeremy smirks, sounding happier about the thought of not staying. "Sounds like a plan."

Charlotte turns her head, suddenly meeting familiar, icy blue eyes, and she stops at the top of the porch steps, unable to look away until Elena is pointedly clearing her throat. Snapping her gaze towards her sister, she glances at her family and waves them off. "Go ahead. I'll find you guys later."

They all reluctantly leave her behind, but she pays them no mind as she approaches Damon, the vampire now dutifully ignoring her.

"Hey," She tries, brows furrowed in a frown. "How are you doing?"

"Great, Charlotte. Walking on sunshine." He scoffs lightly. "Thanks for asking."

"Damon,"

"Charlotte," He mocks, taking a drink of his bourbon.

She grabs his arm, making him finally turn to look at her for longer than a second. "Why can't we talk about this?"

"I tried to talk about it, and you lied about what happened,"

She shakes her head, giving him a short glare. "That's not what happened, and you know it. Elena and Stefan don't need to know what happened, it's not about them. Can we please just talk?"

He purses his lips unhappily, shaking his head. "I kissed you, I thought you kissed me back. Doppelgänger hijinks ensued. How do you think I'm doing?"

"I think you're hurt, and– and upset,"

Damon hums, shaking his head again. "Mmm, no, Charlotte, I don't get hurt."

"No, you don't admit that you get hurt. You get angry, and you cover it up by acting irrationally to distract everyone from your feelings. And I don't like when you do that with me because you know you can trust me,"

Damon looks at her for a minute, gaze softening when he sees the way the sun hits her dark eyes, making them look like swirls of caramel. "You're scared,"

"Of course I'm scared, Damon," She squeezes his arm again, voice wavering. "All of this is terrifying, and I can't– I can't do it without you."

"You think Katherine's going to send me off the deep end, don't you?" He questions, making her look away for a moment. "I don't need her to do that."

"I know what you're capable of, Damon," Charlotte turns as he does, dropping his arm from her grasp.

He turns towards her before he disappears back into the house, giving her a once over. "You know– why is it such a surprise that I would kiss you?"

Charlotte bites the inside of her cheek, wincing at the pinch of it before letting out a sigh. "I'm not surprised that you would kiss me. I'm surprised that you think I would kiss you back and then pretend that it never happened. You know me, Damon, you know that even if I didn't want to kiss you back, I still wouldn't do that, I'd do exactly what I'm trying to do right now and talk to you about it."

Something like surprise flashes in Damon's eyes, but she's stopped from her further interrogation by Bonnie's sudden arrival.

"Charlie," Bonnie's eyes are wide with fear, but she says Charlotte's name in a way that makes her hackles instantly rise.

"What is it, Bonnie? What happened?"

"Elena needs you." Her eyes reluctantly shift to Damon. "Both of you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"He's gonna be okay," Elena breathes out, giving Charlotte a small smile.

Charlotte brings her sister in for a brief hug, giving her a reassuring nod. "Damon said he couldn't find any trace of Katherine,"

Elena scoffs, looking around the empty parlor room of the Lockwood mansion. "Is that really surprising? She showed up, caused chaos, and then left. That seems to be her brand."

Charlotte's gaze drifts to the distant figures of Stefan and Damon still out near the bench, going back and forth. "Yeah," She bites her tongue, dragging her attention back to her sister. "Yeah, it really is, isn't it?"

"Charlie, do you... do you think that Katherine's going to mess Stefan and me up? Like, for good?"

Charlotte's gaze softens with pity, and she brushes Elena's hair off her face, cupping her cheeks. "Elena, there is nothing that can get between you and Stefan, okay? I know I haven't always been Stefan's biggest fan, but anyone with eyes can see that he loves you. And I know that for someone like Stefan, love isn't something that just goes away."

Elena gives her another weak smile, but she looks slightly less pitiful, which soothes Charlotte's nerves.

Dropping her hands from her cheeks, Charlotte stuffs them in the pockets of her jacket.

"Do you," Elena starts again, looking hesitant. "Is Damon gonna be alright?"

Charlotte is briefly taken off guard, and she offers her sister a wry smile. "Is Damon ever alright?"

"I'm serious, Charlie," Elena says, a slight frown on her face. "He already seems shaken up by her and she's been here for less than 24 hours."

"No, I– I know. I know, Elena. I'm worried about him, too," Her voice lowers, and she drops her gaze to the floor, vision blurring with sudden tears. When she raises her eyes back up to look at her sister, her teary state makes Elena gasp softly. "He kissed her."

Elena's jaw drops and she reaches for Charlotte's hand, holding it firmly. "What?"

"That's what happened the night she attacked John. He kissed Katherine, thinking it was me," She whispers the words, an almost shameful lilt to them. "And now I don't– I don't know what to do, Elena."

"Did–" Elena stops herself, still holding her hand. "Come here,"

She pulls Charlotte into her arms, hugging her tightly as her shoulders shake quietly.

They're silent while Charlotte cries, Elena feeling inept and floundering for words of comfort she knows won't do anything.

When Charlotte pulls away, she hastily wipes at her cheeks with her sleeves, taking in a deep, trembling breath. "I'm sorry, I'm just– I'm really confused, Elena, and I'm scared,"

"I know," Elena nods understandingly, face woven with sympathy. "I know it's scary, Charlie, but do you– don't you think that honesty's the best route to take?"

She scoffs dryly, wiping beneath her eyes for any smeared mascara. "How honest do you want me to be, Elena? Do you want me to tell him that I'm terrified he'll throw me away for Katherine? Or do you want me to tell him that if it had been me, I still would've kissed him back because I'm–"

She stops suddenly, cutting herself off as her emotion swells up again. "I know I need to be honest with him, but I don't know if I can."

"That's okay, Charlotte," Elena says, voice firm so her sister listens. "It's okay to be scared and to take your time. I understand why you feel the way you feel about Katherine being back because I feel the same way," She scoffs, shaking her head. "But I'm telling you, there is no way that Damon would ever do that to you. I know you can't see it, Charlie, but he... he loves you. And nothing, not even Katherine, is gonna change that."

She mirrors Charlotte's actions from earlier, pushing her hair behind her ears and cupping her damp cheeks gently. "You are amazing, Charlotte. And everyone knows it, especially Damon. It pains me to admit it, but he's good for you. You're good for each other, and I know it, and so does Stefan– so does Katherine. That's why she's doing what she's doing. Because she knows Stefan and Damon don't want her anymore."

Elena's speaking to herself as much as she is Charlotte, and she's relieved to feel the truth in her own words as she says them out loud.

"No matter what Katherine does, we're gonna be fine, okay?" Elena nods, earning a nod and a sniffle from Charlotte, along with a pitiful smile.

"I should go to the bathroom and clean up," Charlotte huffs, waving a hand at herself pitifully. She spared a soft smile for her sister, who mirrored it. "Love you, Lena."

"Love you, Charlie,"

She turns on her heel and leaves her younger sister alone, knowing that at least Bonnie would be back in there in a while so she wasn't abandoning her completely.

Finding the bathroom is easy, muscle memory taking over as she walks down the empty hall towards the Mayor's office– old office, now, she figures. Cleaning up takes a few minutes, splashing some cold water on her face and using a generous amount of toilet paper to completely rid herself of the remaining mascara on her lashes, because there was no point in trying to salvage it.

When she'd cleaned her face enough to still look somewhat presentable, she fussed with her hair, curls gaining slight frizz because of the humidity that lingered all over, even in the cooler fall air. Though it was more relieving than the hot, sticky summers, the smell of the leaves turning, eventually dying off, the grass going brown and crispy– it always put Charlotte off. She feared the colder weather because it meant the sun was never warm enough to stop that chill from going down her spine, and cold water became less of a relief and more of a prison– though Charlotte supposed it was always somewhat of a prison to her, encasing her limb by limb, until it doused whatever angry thing reared its ugly neck inside of her.

She wasn't always such an angry person on the inside, which is why she's not sure how to handle it now. It's why she'll strip down and submerge herself into a cold bath, why she always wants ice water, why she'll lay in the creek near the edge of town for hours on end, letting the sun set and the goosebumps cover her skin. She's got to smother those flames before they engulf her, and she burns everything around her.

She isn't sure when exactly all of her emotions started to turn into anger when they got too strong, but she knows it's sometime after her parents died, and it makes sense, it really does. But Charlotte can't afford to be so angry, not when her last explosion almost got them taken away from Jenna. Charlotte's got to be the mature one, the honest one. She's got to be calm and cool-headed, because Jeremy and Elena can't, and Jenna's still a kid who got a whole lot of responsibility very suddenly.

Recently these emotions have been spilling out more, leaking between cracks, accidental words said out loud that weren't meant to be, glances shared, lingering touches– it's Damon who does it. He draws these things out of her, puts her in a position where she has to yell, or has to get mad, even if she's crying the whole time. She hates him for it. Hates that he makes her feel so real, so alive because she doesn't want to be– she wants to float above it all, so she can focus on taking care of her family, but Damon makes her selfish. Everything she feels for Damon is so selfish, and she basically just told Elena all of that, even though that's the last thing she wanted to do, because it means the relationship she has with Damon is starting to affect her other relationships too.

It's all a bit too much to realize at once, and Charlotte suddenly turns the sink back on, sticking her hands under the cold water until her skin is pink and it hurts to move her fingers.

It does its job, though. It cools down all of those simmering emotions, and puts a lid on it for the time being, until she's got enough time to have an appropriate meltdown, where no one can see the aftermath of it.

She pats her hands dry with a fancy, embroidered towel she always remembers Carol making passive-aggressive comments about keeping dry and unwrinkled when Charlotte would be over here with Tyler. It was all stiff dinners, questions about college, about the future, questions Charlotte never understood about her parents that only make sense now because she knows what her parents did on the Council.

She questions the power her thoughts have when she walks out of the bathroom and immediately runs into Tyler, but then she reminds herself that she's in his house so it's not fair to put all of that on herself. It doesn't make it any less annoying, though.

"Shit, sorry, Charlie," Tyler huffs, steadying her with a firm grasp on her hands, a brief wince crossing his face. "Your hands are freezing."

"Poor circulation," She says belatedly, an excuse that comes off well enough as a joke that it has Tyler smiling at his father's wake. Her skin crawls at his touch, at the reminder of what they once were, and how it was nothing that Charlotte wanted for herself. Tyler's life would turn out exactly like his own father's did. Married straight out of high school, with one son, or as many children as it took to get him an heir to continue the Lockwood reign on Mystic Falls and an unhappy wife who faced the brunt of her husband's anger more often than not.

It would've been her life if she hadn't left. If she hadn't woken up one day and realized she wanted to be with someone who brought passion into their relationship, didn't want kids, and would support Charlotte's dream to go to medical school and become a neurosurgeon, even if it wasn't entirely realistic. She wanted someone with an imagination, with dreams of their own, and unfortunately for them both, Tyler Lockwood's life had been written out for him the day Carol Lockwood found out she was pregnant. It's the life of someone who will live and die in a small town, and Charlotte doesn't want that.

"Did you change?"

Charlotte blinks, looking up at Tyler with a frown. "What?"

He shakes his head, eyes roaming over her black skirt and flats, a plain white button-down tucked into it. "Earlier, you were wearing pants, I thought. When you first got here and I was still on the porch, pretending to give a shit about any of these people."

Charlotte goes to deny his accusation, but she clamps her jaw shut, suddenly recalling the arrival of her new biggest enemy that she saw every time she looked in the mirror. "Oh," She swallows roughly, shaking her head. "I was, but, uh, there was an incident with one of the appetizers and someone spilled some on me. I had to borrow a skirt from Caroline."

Tyler nods, another lie pouring from her mouth like it was nothing. She hadn't realized how easy it had gotten to lie over the past few weeks, since protecting Damon's life became something she did unthinkingly, instead of agonizing over the morality of it.

Clearing her throat, Charlotte pulls her hands out of his grip and crosses her arms against her chest tightly. "How are you doing? I know this is all a lot,"

"Yeah, it's..." Tyler trails off, glancing back down the hallway where the general murmur of people echoes from. It grates on his nerves, that have been paper-thin since that night he nearly killed Caroline– the night his dad died. "I'm just really angry, you know? Like, all these people are in my house, telling me that they're going to miss my dad, but I–"

He cuts himself off, looking briefly ashamed before he meets Charlotte's imploring gaze. "I don't miss him. Yet– I guess. You know the type of guy my dad was, Charlie. It's hard for me to listen to all of these stories, and hear how great he treated everyone but his wife and kid."

"I get it, Tyler," Charlotte nods, a sympathetic lilt to her voice. "You know I do. It's not– it's never easy. But you're strong, and you love your mom– you'll be there for her because you know she needs you. Just don't forget to think about yourself, too, alright? The second you start worrying more about other people's emotions, you're screwed,"

She plays her words off with a little laugh, and it garners one from Tyler in return that makes her think she can break the conversation off here and disappear back into a crowd, or perhaps back into the bathroom to make her hands go numb again. Maybe she'll steal an ice bucket, and take the champagne to Damon while she sits and lets her fingers freeze into the early stages of frostbite.

"Hey, Charlie? Can I ask you a question?"

Charlotte nods, dragging her gaze back to his eyes from where they'd drifted past his head, mind already escaping somewhere else. "Of course."

"Do you–" He stops again, uncertain of every word coming out of his mouth, though she doesn't know if it's for her sake or his own. "Would it ever have worked out for us? Do you think?"

It takes Charlotte off guard, and she finds herself blinking in shock at him, stunned into silence for a second longer than she'd like to be. She's never talked about breaking up with Tyler, not with anyone but Cory. She doesn't think about the actual breakup so much as she thinks about everything that led up to it– the small, backhanded comments he'd begun to make, the things he'd started to worry about even though they were only sophomores in high school. He'd done exactly what Charlotte knew was going to happen; become his father.

It had instilled a fear in Charlotte she hadn't ever felt before then. It was suffocating, so similar to being trapped, locked away in a role she wasn't meant to play. If Tyler was becoming his father, then that meant she was expected to become Carol.

It had been odd, though, she recalls. Odd because Tyler didn't like his dad, didn't want to be anything like him, but he'd gone so far in the opposite direction he'd circled back around. He'd drink, he'd get busted at parties, he'd hang out with the druggies that always smelled like weed– he was the quintessential rebellious teen because he thought that wasn't what his father was, but it was exactly who Richard Lockwood was before he fastracked his small-town government career and wiped his slate clean with crowned beauty queen Carol on his arm, and a ring on her finger.

Charlotte had always seen that even if Tyler hadn't. So, she'd always known it wasn't going to work out in the long run between them. Charlotte didn't want to be with someone for the entirety of high school anyway, it never appealed to her. Tyler was fun, and he was funny, and he was nice to her most of the time. At the time, it was all she could ask for.

But the day she finally broke up with him had been a long time coming in her mind, even though he claimed it blindsided him. They'd been bickering more often than not, every conversation had an overlying tension to it, something that made them walk on tiptoes with each other, and Charlotte grew uncomfortable with the thought of staying with someone she didn't even feel like she could laugh with anymore.

Though it was a cumulation of things over the course of a few months, Charlotte's breaking point had been one afternoon in his room, here at the mansion, and they had the house to themselves for once, even devoid of the cleaning staff.

They were doing what teenagers did in that situation– hands roaming, sweat beading on skin, things heating up. But they'd only ever had sex once, for real. It had been both of their first times. It was soft and sweet, and Charlotte still cherished the memory. It was everything Charlotte had wanted in her first time, and she remembers telling Elena about it between excited squeals. Elena had told her that she and Matt still hadn't done it, and Charlotte made her promise to tell her the moment it happened.

That day, Charlotte most likely would've gone through with it another time, had Tyler worded his question differently.

He'd moved to take her shirt off but stopped to ask if she wanted to. And she'd said yes. She was ready to take things further, but then he'd suddenly recalled a story that had been told in the locker room at football practice, when he'd been talking to Matt about one of their dates, and an older member of the team made a comment about how he'd bet Charlotte was a prude.

And Charlotte Gilbert was anything but an idiot, she knew Tyler and Matt talked about these things just like she and Elena did. They were teenagers having sex. It was going to be the topic of conversation every once in a while.

But she didn't know that the entire football team had an input on it, especially about her willingness to take her clothes off for her boyfriend.

So she'd stopped him, hand on his chest, frowning. Had asked him who said it, and what all was said. Tyler didn't understand why she'd been so upset. Hadn't understood why she wanted to know all these things, and not just let him take her shirt off so they could get back to the important stuff.

She'd expressed her disdain for such public recollections of their sex lives, and Tyler laughed it off. He'd chuckled, and told her, "Charlie, we're guys. Sometimes we'll call a girl a prude if she doesn't want to put out all the time."

And Charlotte had blinked up at him just once, from her place amongst his pillows, and said, "Tyler, I'm breaking up with you."

There'd been yelling after that, and Tyler had gotten mad and thrown something at his desk, had broken an old trophy from his and Matt's little league days or something, but all she remembers is flinching away from the noise and thinking that this isn't what her future is going to look like.

A few weeks after that, her parents died, and she gave up on all sense of normalcy. She couldn't even claim to have been regaining that normalcy when Stefan and Damon showed up, because she'd been far from it still.

The universe in which she stayed with Tyler was not this one.

"No," She says, not cold but not soothing in any particular way. "We're very different people, Tyler, and that's okay. But we don't want the same things in life, and I won't ever settle for less."

It hurts him to hear, she knows. But he doesn't let it show too much, and it at least doesn't anger him. He just gives her a sad smile and leans forward to press a kiss on her cheek. "Yeah. I know. You're too good for any guy in this town, Charlotte Gilbert."

"For what it's worth, Tyler," She starts again, as he turns to walk away. "I think you can do better than he did. If you really want to."

He doesn't say anything, just nods once, and walks towards his father's office, leaving her alone in the hall, feeling some chasm inside of her grow a bit more hollow. She decides it's time to go home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Charlotte steps out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed, she startles at the figure sitting on the end of her bed, slightly hunched over.

Recovering quickly, she gives him a concerned once over, hurrying over to lay her hand on his shoulder. "Damon? Are you alright?"

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but after a second he leans to the side, further into her touch, resting his head against her stomach. Charlotte's gut wrenches with worry, and she gently runs her hand through his hair, big brown eyes full of emotion.

"Damon, I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on,"

"You can't help me, Charlotte. I am unsalvageable."

"I don't think that's true, Damon," Charlotte shakes her head even though he hasn't looked up at her still. "Please tell me what's wrong. Have you been drinking?"

He finally tilts his head back, the weight of it in the gentle cradle of her palm, still resting amongst the onyx strands of hair. "I asked for honesty, but I didn't get the answer I wanted."

Charlotte's brows furrow, and she shakes her head, scanning his face for anything more. "Someone lied to you?"

"No," He whispers, mouth pulling up into a wry smirk. "She told me the truth for once. And now,"

He sighs, suddenly sitting up out of her touch and standing, facing her with all of his towering height. "Now I'm upset and pissed off because I'm upset. You know, I thought– I thought I was over it, I thought I was over her, but this is just... this is a new low."

Realization dawns on Charlotte and her face shutters with it. "You talked to Katherine?"

"Right as rain like always, sunshine," Damon points a finger, that odd, empty smile on his face still. "I asked her to be honest with me because I figure it's the least I deserve after all these years, you know?"

Reluctantly, Charlotte nods because she agrees, but she hates the thing inside of her that's starting to burn at the thought of Damon talking to Katherine alone in any sort of vulnerable setting.

"Well, get this," He scoffs, bright eyes glassy with his intoxication. The last time she'd seen him drunk was when she and Cory stayed at the boarding house with him after her fight with Elena. He'd been happy, then. Swinging her around and dancing with her, while she sang and made pancakes for them. He'd put her to bed that night, she remembers. She'd slept soundly and had dreams that made her cheeks flush. "She told me that she never loved me. And it was always going to be Stefan."

He tries to keep up his nonchalant air, but Charlotte can hear the way his voice wavers on the words and the way he drops his gaze from her proves just how upset he is about it, how ashamed he is.

Charlotte briefly feels that anger in her boil to the surface, specifically for Katherine Pierce, because she doesn't know why she'd ever touch Damon, to begin with, if she was only going to break his heart. She doesn't know how anyone would look at Damon and want to break his heart. She thinks if she ever did that, let alone on purpose, she'd be breaking her own in the process.

Damon has fallen silent, and when she focuses on him again he seems to realize it immediately and he steps towards her, making her move to steady him by the arms.

"Careful, Damon," She mutters it without thinking, tilting her head up just as he looks down to look at her bare feet, at risk of being stepped on by his boots. He readjusts them and gives her space for safety, and it makes her heart ache that he's so conscious about her existence that it makes her feel real.

"Charlotte," He starts, garnering her full attention again. "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean,"

Charlotte's cheeks heat, but she shakes her head when she realizes she does know what he means. "We're not having this conversation when you've been drinking,"

"I'm always drinking,"

"You know what I mean," She gives him a warning look that doesn't get any response. "Why don't you come downstairs and I'll warm up leftovers for you, or, like– make you pancakes or something? You can sober up, and then we can talk about whatever you want."

A large palm cups her cheek and she nearly flinches, if not for the gentleness in which he does it. "So sweet to me,"

He shakes his head in disbelief, the words so quiet it seems like he didn't mean to say them out loud.

"Damon," Charlotte swallows roughly, laying her hand atop his on her face. "You know that I'll never lie to you. But I'm not going to have this conversation with you after everything that's happened with Katherine."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, something pained and wistful. "She always ruins it for me," He clicks his tongue, words quiet again like they're escaping thoughts. "I can't let her ruin this."

She gives in, just for a moment, and leans into his touch, holding his fingers against her face. Her eyes flutter shut, and she bites back tears suddenly, falling into the chasm of things she feels for him. "She won't ruin it, Damon. I promise."

Her brown eyes open again, and she lets out a shaky breath as she looks at his wide, pleading eyes. "She can't hurt you anymore, okay? It's over. You know– you know the truth now, even though it hurts. But now you know, and she doesn't have any power over you anymore, Damon. It's all going to be okay."

Damon tilts his head, gaining clarity for a brief moment. "Nothing ever works out for me, sunshine,"

"It can," She says, suddenly the pleading one. "It can if you try."

He says nothing to that, perhaps speechless, or tired to the point he's lost words. Charlotte sighs, stuffs most of that emotion back down inside of her, and pulls his hand off her face. "Come on, Damon, let's go get you something to eat."

He lets her pull him to her bedroom door, out into the hallway, and his heavy frame creaks the floorboards loudly.

Charlotte winces as Jeremy's door opens, the younger boy stepping out with a confused look on his face.

"Is everything okay, Charlie?" Jeremy looks at Damon warily, too tired to be irritated at the vampire's presence.

"It's fine, Jer, he's drunk and I'm going to feed him and send him on his way," She huffs, forcing a small smile. "Nothing more dangerous than a vampire under the influence."

Jeremy doesn't laugh, but he does nod, taking another step towards them. He glances at Damon and seems to notice the same things Charlotte did earlier, his eyes rimmed red and bloodshot, and not in any way he's probably ever seen Damon before. "Are you good, man?"

"No," Damon sighs, leaning his weight on Charlotte who huffs, stumbling a bit. "Nothing is good, Jeremy. Nothing is good, and life is eternally painful, so don't ever get your hopes up for anything, because you'll always be disappointed."

Damon sways forward, clapping his hands down on Jeremy's shoulders as he speaks his negative words.

Jeremy winces at the alcohol on his breath, shooting Charlotte an unamused look. "He's a cynic when he's drunk, isn't he?"

"Yeah, it happens to the best of us," Charlotte quips, trying to balance Damon's weight a bit easier. "Damon, this would be so much better for both of us if you just stood upright."

"Let me help," Jeremy sighed, reaching for one of the vampire's arms to sling over his shoulders.

The action seems to startle Damon back into motion, and he swings an arm out, gesturing wildly. "And another thing, littlest Gilbert–!"

Jeremy's eyes widen in surprise as he narrowly misses what would've surely been at least a black eye from the weight behind Damon's arm, but before he can recover and bring himself back upright, his weight seems to shift and he feels a noise of pure surprise leave him as he suddenly feels weightless, just for a split second.

"Jeremy, no!" Charlotte drops Damon's arm completely as Jeremy's frame tumbles down the stairs, dangerous thuds echoing through the house until he lands at the bottom before the front door, unnervingly still, head bent at an odd angle. "Oh, my god– oh, my god, no, no,"

She hurries down the stairs, drunken vampire forgotten as she cradles Jeremy's frame in her arms. "No, no, no," Quick tears spill down her cheeks, hot as the flames inside her, and she feels herself gasp for air as her heart pounds inside her chest. "Wake up, please wake up, please,"

She looks up, vision blurry as she sees Damon standing over them, looking lost still, but shell-shocked by the sudden grief encasing Charlotte. "You have to go," She gasps, clutching onto her brother. "Go get help, please– please, help me, Damon, please,"

"Charlotte, I..." Damon trails off, looking down at Jeremy's still limp body, hears the emptiness where his pulse would be. "He's..."

"No," She cuts him off, holding his head and brushing her tears off his face where they'd leaked out everywhere. "No, he can't be– he's not, he's not–"

"I'm going," Damon says, suddenly reaching for the front door. "I'm going to get Elena."

Charlotte doesn't register his departure as she holds her brother's body, murmuring pleas and feeling faint as she takes in shallow breaths that send pains through her lungs every time.

She blinks tears out of her eyes harshly, squeezing them shut so her vision can focus for just a moment, and as soon as it does, it lands on one of Jeremy's hands, splayed out on the floor.

She reaches for his hand, suddenly adorned with a ring she's never seen him wear before, and when she drags it to her face, the realization hits her that it's a Gilbert ring. It's a Gilbert ring, and Jeremy's wearing it, which means he'll be fine, because it's a supernatural object, and no matter how accidental it was, it was still Damon who had pushed him down those stairs, so it has to work– it has to work, or Charlotte doesn't know what she's going to do.

Even amidst her pleading thoughts, the prayers she sends out to anyone who might hear them, she cries and holds her brother's body, and wonders if this is how horrible he'd felt when he had held hers.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

author's note; i'm gonna be honest, this book is fully canon except for this last part and probably like only a few other major plot points obviously (delena, etc) and i couldn't have damon kill jeremy bc quite frankly, charlotte would never forgive him for it and we can't have that so lets all pretend this is canon!!! wow!!! what a crazy thing!!!! 

edited and published; 9.3.23. 

- liz