but what I want to say shouldn't be said over the phone

[rehashing]

[ The smallest of pauses after the beep ] "You've - reached Elena. Gilbert. [ Maybe there are multiple in this cave. ] I'm sorry I missed your call, but if you'd leave - [ And their names will already be attached, built in caller id. She hates this message already But she's going to damn well finish it. ] a message, I'll return the call as soon as I can. [ And that's about all she needs and all she can muster. Oh, she can't forget... ] Thank you." [ "But, why am I thanking them, they called me." "Because it's the polite thing to do. Did they have to call you?" "They wanted to." But, no argument wins. Miranda Gilbert has a way of always being right. ]

call .. text .. video

Comments

text ][

[overarching]

[ They both reread that, and Caroline gives a look of rueful dejection as she stares into the screen and tries to decide what she should type back.

She knows Elena, that no matter how difficult an honest statement was to make, that she'd never leave those words hanging. So when another text comes, she takes another breath, not entirely of relief, but something akin to it. ]

That works. [ More than. She really needs to see you, Elena. ] I'll have a drink ready for you, too.

[ Two glasses of straight liquor seem appropriate, but she's already in the process of whipping up another tea with, well, not vodka. But, what she has will do. A touch of warmth in a space that'll probably dissolve into tears. ]

text ][

[rehashing]

[ Elena lugs a triangle-shaped trunk of clothes she's found, (the trunk found as well). It's easy for her, in part thanks to Caroline. She doesn't use her speed. She anticipates what could be said, and what she has to say - reforming even that as she nears their first spire. The pile of ash nearby turns her stomach, that she would do that to her friend - or to anyone. Names of who influenced her, whom she encouraged enter her mind. One woman she didn't get the name of even tried to stop her.

It's the first time she's taken these steps without having to think about her breath, without taking breaks, without getting even a little winded.

No, she doesn't miss that.

Setting down the trunk, she unlocks the door, letting it swing open. The doorway is still weirdly high so it's easy to get her trunk of clothes in. She doesn't need an invitation, she knows that, but still she feels the eventual pull - or is it push of an unseen force she'll likely encounter soon.

Letting out a breath, she picks the trunk up again, long and expansive, but again, ultimately shaped like a triangle.

Caroline comes into view, and the drinks she's made them. Setting the trunk down vertically, she doesn't unclasp it. But, inside Caroline will find several options. (More than several. Elena scoured.)

She smells the liquor first.

She pauses in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Caroline, knowing she's feeling remorse. She's beating herself up. Blaming herself. For things said and especially done. ] I woke up on the ground. I'm sorry I didn't call. [ Or text. Or, get back into touch with her. ] I gathered what I could. I even found duplicates. I think the gods only have so much imagination when it comes to what we can ask for. [ So, those aren't lost. ] Caroline...

action ][

[overarching]

[ Caroline doesn't actively reach out to hear Elena approaching, so that lugging of the trunk doesn't fall on her ears. She mulls over what she should say first. If she should let Elena move the conversation forward, if it's wrong for her to do so. She rephrases sentences several times over in her mind, sighing to herself over how empty it all sounds, no matter how she might word it.

Her attention shoots over when she hears the door open, chair moving with her as she slowly rises, feet moving. She wouldn't have rushed over, and the sight of a big object gives her even more pause. Her eyes scan over it, glancing back to the cups before moving to one and carrying it over to hand to Elena when she starts to speak. It's too difficult to meet her eyes, and once she hears what the trunk, she realizes it's meant to be, holds? Her eyes shut, and she steals a moment to retrieve her cup too. It's not intentional that her back is turned when Elena says her name, but she tenses and turns, regret etched into her features.

One step toward Elena, fingers clasped around her cup. ] You didn't have to, Elena. I don't...thank you. [ A swallow: she didn't deserve this, Elena, but there's no reason to say that. Not when the gesture has already been extended. ] I'm just...I'm glad you're here. I'm...sorry you woke up alone. [ She was, well, busy someplace else. Committing deeds she'd rather not mention. Because denial is the better option. She glances down to the floor, swallowing again. ] Really, I, a thank you isn't enough, but -- my clothes are the absolute last thing on my mind right now... [ She can't help but encourage them toward talking about the difficult topics. That's what they're there to do, right? ]

[rehashing]

[ Elena takes the cup - but mostly she just holds it because she's not thirsty. And she's already buzzed. Not that anyone could tell. Her tolerance is exponentially higher than it used to be. She shakes her head. Caroline doesn't need to apologize for where Elena dropped to the ground exhausted from the last week.

Elena looks down into her glass. ] I know. [ But, it's what she focused on. Like their clean apartment. ] I don't think I'm okay, Caroline. With where we're from, with who you -- I don't know if anything would've happened with Stefan, I know it did for a short time but - I didn't live it, and living with everything I don't know... [ Her words trail off. ] It was one thing when I didn't think about it, but now it's all I can think about. Stefan. [ She pauses, guilt from her next name. ] Damon. [ She takes in a breath. ] We're different people now, Caroline. Me, literally. I don't [ She quickly brings her hand up, palm forward to stop her. ] blame you for that. I know what happens to me. But, we're not the girl whose blood breaks spells and the vampire learning to live her life anymore. You lived your life and had kids. And I -- died. [ Again. She sets her glass down on the front table, facing Caroline again. ] This is going to sound like punishment or, like I hate you, and I don't, Caroline. I couldn't. Not ever. [ And despite her saying that, it's apparent there's more to what she's saying. ] But, I can't stay here. There's a part of me that does blame you and misses Stefan and everyone and you remind me of everything. And I can't -- take that. We were fooling ourselves, Caroline, that things could be the way they were. We're in Hadriel now. [ She needs this. And she needs to say it. They're in hell. ]

[overarching]

[ Caroline didn't drink much while cleaning, either, and she's regretting it. Her neurosis wants to spring out and take over.

But this is Elena. She can't do that to her. She listens, the color fading from her face as the reality of her friend's words sink in. That they've traveled down paths into some warped unknown. That she's had what Elena won't. That, in spite of no romantic jealousy being a reality in her own future, that fact doesn't change that Elena's heart is still exposed to the pains of what she knows will come. Elena isn't wrong. Not with a single word she says. Caroline's hands grip tighter around her cup, wishing it, or anything, could be anchor to anything resembling security, comfort. ] But we can get through anything together, Elena. [ She means it. She knows it. She also knows that Elena knows it, but this situation doesn't mirror the reality either of them know. It's a twisted amalgamation of the truth, of the lives they've both lived, a fate that befalls Elena having swung on both of them like an iron pendulum.

Caroline sighs, looking down again, meeting Elena's eyes before she speaks. ] I'm sorry, Elena. If there were anything I could do to change what happened, I promise that I'd do it. [ But they both know there's nothing under Hadriel's dark ceiling that makes a vampire human again. Nothing they know of, anyway, so it's not a real consideration. ] And I want you to blame me. It is my fault. But -- [ her head shakes rapidly ] I'm not pitying myself, or playing the victim. What matters is what happened. To you.

[ A long beat. ] Where will you stay? [ Where is there to go, in hell? ] Do you know? [ Her voice is strained, but she holds her emotions at bay. Losing it in that moment can't be a thing. She needs to keep it together. ]

[rehashing]

[ Caroline echoes what Elena said on the first day, but it rings hollow in her ears. She still believes that. Inherently. The problem lies in that the circumstances are different. She isn't the fragile human who has the luxury of compartmentalizing. She gets to live every emotion at an 11 with no off switch she wants in sight. And Caroline dials those to 12.

She said her peace, which makes it harder to answer Caroline, to respond to her questions. She speaks, she adds, and she worries, like Caroline does.

No matter the state her friendship is in, it's good to have this side of her back.

Her emotions are on a hairpin trigger, tears welling up. She blinks them away, fighting against the urge, looking to her right. ] I'll find something. And I'll let you know when I do. But, don't spend all your time blaming yourself. It isn't good for you, or for me. And that's coming from someone who blames herself for everything. [ Partially. ] What happened with us isn't simple. Not who we can blame, not what we did. Not why.

[ But she can't say they'll get through this because in truth she doesn't know. She knows she wants to. But, she also knows these conflicting feelings aren't going away and Caroline is a large part of that. ] Promise me you won't blame yourself.

[overarching]

[ Caroline's had years of managing her emotions, and even so, ones that are felt with the most intensity are still prone to overtaking her. Seeing how Elena's affected causes her own eyes to shine, tears not forming, but at the very precipice of shaping.

She gives a slow nod, unable to tear her gaze away even as Elena casts hers to the side. ] Okay. [ So quietly acknowledged, the notion of her finding someplace to stay, said under Caroline's breath in between Elena's phrases. The tears threaten more, her eyes going wider in an effort to try denying that she, really, might cry, face tilting down. How could she not blame herself?

But Elena has several good points. Still. They don't make it easier to bear the weight of it all. She exhales through her nose, fighting back wryness, over Elena blaming herself for everything.

It's not simple, and at the core of heart, Caroline does believe they'll get through this. It's not the time to go full force into a speech about their strength, the bond that endures no matter how dark times get, and she realizes that. What conflicts within Caroline is the unknown of how Elena may process all of this. She takes a deep breath. ] Elena. How... [ her shoulders rise and fall, slowly, pang of ache in her chest, expression crestfallen ] it's not simple enough to feel any other way that that, right now. I'm. I'm sorry. I want to make that promise to you. If I felt like I could, I really, really would. But I did this. To you. Because I couldn't control myself, and no matter what force was behind that, I can't not take responsibility for what happened.

I can... [ she cuts off, knowing she's gone into a mini-monologue, but she's Caroline Forbes. it's bound to happen. what she continues with, she means, tone sincere ] let it not eat me alive. But it is technically my fault. I took your life from you. I'd be an even lousier friend if I lied about being to pass responsibility off on anyone else.

And I know it's gonna take time to process this...awfulness, but I know you can. That you will. You're...you're strong, Elena. You always have been. Always will be. [ Her first sniffle, face twisting with the attempt to fight away the burgeoning emotion before tears start to fall, and she wipes them away, unable to even attempt a soft smile but meeting Elena's eyes. ]