[ he was too cute to need to do that. she's pretty sure he could get a view if he just asked nicely.
but as far as getting a straight answer out of her... well. maybe not. caroline visibly fidgets, a thumb dragging around the rim of her glass, as she tries to decide how to answer. ]
What if they're the same?
[ in reality, they aren't. caroline's secret (her vampirism) isn't a regret. but killing a man to stay alive... that was. ]
[ okay, he hadn't expected that and it gives him pause before he shrugs. ]
Then I guess the question would be: confess or lie?
[ not any easier of a question, he knows. there's a lot of things that he's lying to her about now by virtue of not telling her when he probably should.
but, they're talking about her right now and not him. ]
[ she tries to look casual in the sip of her drink, but it's a futile thing. caroline has never been a good liar, even worse when asked outright, and though he's not explicitly asking her whether she's going to confess something or continue keeping it a secret, she feels the heat under her metaphorical collar all the same. ]
Neither.
[ not the way you play the game. but she doesn't care. ]
I wouldn't confess, but I wouldn't lie either. If they didn't ask, it's not a lie.
[ she makes a good point. he reaches for his glass and tips it back, swallowing some of the alcohol before settling the cup back down. ]
I agree with you.
[ if no one asked you what you were hiding, then they wouldn't know you were hiding anything and thus you didn't have to lie. he nods once and then gestures to her. ]
Go 'head. [ even if he doesn't press her for answers, he does notice that she'd gotten a little less confident than usual during that question. which he takes to mean there's something she's not telling him. he hasn't earned the right to ask her about that though. ] Do your worst.
[ as the cup settles on the table, caroline leans forward, topping off his and hers glasses with a small pour. not enough to be a full glass, but just enough to refill from what's been taken in. ]
If you want something, do you think you should go after it or wait for it to come to you?
the thought rips through him and he slumps a little against the table, trying to cover the sudden surge of emotions by appearing to be in thought. he wants his kid and nothing had worked then. he'd gone after her, nearly died. he'd stayed away and lorna had just...sent her away.
that's what he wanted but he wasn't going to get it. ever. he picks up his drink but doesn't knock it back. ]
[ she nearly reaches out, hand arching forward to rest against his own, but something stops her. the empathy bond, the tension in his voice, the way he clutches at his drink but doesn't commit to it. her palm falls to the table between them with a soft thump instead, only to retreat to the side of her glass. ]
Would you have been satisfied if you hadn't tried to go after it?
[ to caroline, that's the difference. if she really wanted something, she went for it. it may not work out, she may not succeed, but if she wasn't willing to make it happen, she didn't really want it. ]
[ he takes a sip of the drink and blows out a breath. ]
I needed to try.
[ but he just hated failing. he wallows for a second longer before he shakes his head. he needs to stop thinking about this or it's going to ruin his entire mood. ]
Having a lot of friends that don't know you very well or having a few very close friends that know everything about you?
[ it was a tough question. before she'd died, caroline would have said a lot of friends, hands down, no question. she'd practically been the queen bee of mystic falls — having a lot of friends was a necessity. but in the wake of coming back to life (or something like it), caroline had found that she didn't want a crowd.
she still had lots of friends — even here, she seemed to make one everywhere she went — but it would never be the same. so her answer is considered, a touch more serious, when she finally gives it. ]
A few that I can trust, I think. I've done the 'everybody's your friend but nobody really cares' thing, it's not all that great.
[ see: drunken caroline in the grill, crying about being everybody's second choice. ]
[v it's the answer he would have chosen too. he'd never been popular, not with how he'd come up in the world but the people around him now (or the people that had been around him) had been some of his closest friends and therefore he'd trusted them with everything.
it was hard to be back at the beginning with people he doesn't know and trying to decide if it was okay to trust them enough to open up. he's still not sure. ]
It doesn't sound like it is.
[ again, it's never really been his thing. he'd either had no friends or done the close friends things. he'd had professional allies that he used when he'd done the unthinkable to survive and he had the underground. his family. ]
[ it's not. but she doesn't want to dwell on it, either, because it doesn't matter. she may not have stefan here to lean on when her cravings get bad, and she may not have her best friends here for when she needed them, but she was making it work. ]
Would you rather be poor and in love or rich and alone?
[ this time, she doesn't hide the way she watches him for a response. ]
[ that question gives him pause. it should be easy to answer. it really should be but after what had happened between him and lorna, he'd gotten into the frame of mind that being alone would be best. it would protect you from a pain that he was still trying to deal with today.
the money, that doesn't matter much to him, but...
he runs a finger around the rim of his glass. she's watching him closely. he can feel her eyes on him and he wonders what she wants the answer to be. ]
I've been all of those things except rich. [ he'd gotten close with the cartels but that money had been carmen's, really. not his. ] Poor and in love.
[ but god, that answer might change tomorrow. he can remember how good being in love felt. how he'd woken up feeling full and alive and complete and how he doesn't feel like that anymore. he could make the lack of money work. ]
[ it's a sad answer, bittersweet, but heartfelt all the same. there's a depth of emotion that caroline simply can't match — she's said i love you, sure, but she's never been in love in the way she suspects marcos has. the kind of all-encompassing great love that leaves you shattered and distraught upon losing it, the kind of love stories are written about and movies made of.
she's never had a love like that, and caroline suspects she never will. no one loves a monster. when her hand does reach forward to press against his own, marcos will no doubt feel the weight of that loss swimming through the bond. ]
Your turn.
[ she'll top him up again, but somehow, she gets the feeling he won't slam it back this time. ]
[ it's hard to tell where her feelings of loss end and where his begin. it flows back and forth, his and hers, hers and his, tangling up around each other and cloaking them both in feelings of sadness, of loneliness and desolation that he almost can't find his way out of.
he focuses on the spot where her hand sits against his and breathes out, shaking away the heaviness but keeping his hand where it was. ]
My turn.
[ he nods and taps a nail against the side of the glass. ]
Anything's forgivable or some things just can't be forgiven?
[ she should say nothing can be forgiven. she's never forgiven damon for compelling her, not really — but then, she's moved past it too. it's not quite forgiveness, but there's something there. acknowledgement, maybe. acceptance.
i'm a terrible person, but i'm working on it. she'd said that once. maybe the same was true for him. maybe she just accepted that they were both terrible, and that's all there was to it. ]
I have to hope anything's forgivable.
[ or she'll never be able to be honest with him. a pang of fear spikes between them, and caroline takes a drink. ]
[ interesting. the fear that erupts is quick and sharp and it's definitely from her. he doesn't pull his hand away but he frowns just the slightest bit. she's afraid of something to do with forgiveness. he assumes she has her secrets just as he has his but now he's starting to wonder just what she might be keeping to herself.
still, he doesn't press. that's not the game, after all. he nudges his fingers against her hand and nods. ]
Your turn.
[ he takes a slower drink while he waits for her question. ]
[ her follow-up comes quietly. there's no meeting his gaze, no lift of her head; her eyes stare into the bottom of her glass, now drained, though she doesn't move to refill it. ]
Would you rather people be honest with you, or try to protect your feelings?
[ the answer is immediate. he's aware of the damage that being honest can do but he prefers that than to being in the dark. he doesn't want to be made to feel like a damn fool because everyone knows something that he doesn't. ]
[ she's not ready to tell him yet. maybe that's selfish. maybe it's wrong. but she likes the way he looks at her when he smiles, likes the companionship he's given her, and there's an ever-present fear that he won't when he finds out. that he'll be too disgusted or afraid or angry to think of her the same way, and that she'll lose him in the process.
it shouldn't matter that much, but it does. she doesn't exactly have a wide range of people here to begin with. ]
[ marcos nods and goes quiet, trying to think of a decent question. they've really started getting into deeper questions, questions of how they went about their daily lives and maybe he should change that. go a little silly. ]
[ never loving anyone, that is. never being able to, or choosing not to — either way, it was a lifetime of loneliness. and when your lifetime stretched out impossibly long, that loneliness was more than one person could bear. ]
At least if you were in love, you know you could do it again.
[ it was for caroline. alone, she made worse choices. she didn't have anyone to lean on, anyone to guide her. she was emotional and shallow and scared a lot of the time.
being alone only made that worse. ]
Would you rather remember and love in the future, or forget and always be alone?
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[ he was too cute to need to do that. she's pretty sure he could get a view if he just asked nicely.
but as far as getting a straight answer out of her... well. maybe not. caroline visibly fidgets, a thumb dragging around the rim of her glass, as she tries to decide how to answer. ]
What if they're the same?
[ in reality, they aren't. caroline's secret (her vampirism) isn't a regret. but killing a man to stay alive... that was. ]
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Then I guess the question would be: confess or lie?
[ not any easier of a question, he knows. there's a lot of things that he's lying to her about now by virtue of not telling her when he probably should.
but, they're talking about her right now and not him. ]
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Neither.
[ not the way you play the game. but she doesn't care. ]
I wouldn't confess, but I wouldn't lie either. If they didn't ask, it's not a lie.
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[ she makes a good point. he reaches for his glass and tips it back, swallowing some of the alcohol before settling the cup back down. ]
I agree with you.
[ if no one asked you what you were hiding, then they wouldn't know you were hiding anything and thus you didn't have to lie. he nods once and then gestures to her. ]
Go 'head. [ even if he doesn't press her for answers, he does notice that she'd gotten a little less confident than usual during that question. which he takes to mean there's something she's not telling him. he hasn't earned the right to ask her about that though. ] Do your worst.
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If you want something, do you think you should go after it or wait for it to come to you?
[ something, or someone? or both? ]
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[ he's done it both ways with varying degrees of success but it's all very dependent on what you're going after. or who you're going after, as well. ]
One way might work for one thing but not for another. Can you be more specific? What am I going after?
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[ a brow arches as her glass is lifted to her lips, a considerably slower sip punctuating the statement. ]
What do you want?
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the thought rips through him and he slumps a little against the table, trying to cover the sudden surge of emotions by appearing to be in thought. he wants his kid and nothing had worked then. he'd gone after her, nearly died. he'd stayed away and lorna had just...sent her away.
that's what he wanted but he wasn't going to get it. ever. he picks up his drink but doesn't knock it back. ]
What I want I won't get. I've tried it both ways.
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Would you have been satisfied if you hadn't tried to go after it?
[ to caroline, that's the difference. if she really wanted something, she went for it. it may not work out, she may not succeed, but if she wasn't willing to make it happen, she didn't really want it. ]
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[ he takes a sip of the drink and blows out a breath. ]
I needed to try.
[ but he just hated failing. he wallows for a second longer before he shakes his head. he needs to stop thinking about this or it's going to ruin his entire mood. ]
Having a lot of friends that don't know you very well or having a few very close friends that know everything about you?
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she still had lots of friends — even here, she seemed to make one everywhere she went — but it would never be the same. so her answer is considered, a touch more serious, when she finally gives it. ]
A few that I can trust, I think. I've done the 'everybody's your friend but nobody really cares' thing, it's not all that great.
[ see: drunken caroline in the grill, crying about being everybody's second choice. ]
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it was hard to be back at the beginning with people he doesn't know and trying to decide if it was okay to trust them enough to open up. he's still not sure. ]
It doesn't sound like it is.
[ again, it's never really been his thing. he'd either had no friends or done the close friends things. he'd had professional allies that he used when he'd done the unthinkable to survive and he had the underground. his family. ]
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Would you rather be poor and in love or rich and alone?
[ this time, she doesn't hide the way she watches him for a response. ]
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the money, that doesn't matter much to him, but...
he runs a finger around the rim of his glass. she's watching him closely. he can feel her eyes on him and he wonders what she wants the answer to be. ]
I've been all of those things except rich. [ he'd gotten close with the cartels but that money had been carmen's, really. not his. ] Poor and in love.
[ but god, that answer might change tomorrow. he can remember how good being in love felt. how he'd woken up feeling full and alive and complete and how he doesn't feel like that anymore. he could make the lack of money work. ]
There's a lot more to be gained by being in love.
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she's never had a love like that, and caroline suspects she never will. no one loves a monster. when her hand does reach forward to press against his own, marcos will no doubt feel the weight of that loss swimming through the bond. ]
Your turn.
[ she'll top him up again, but somehow, she gets the feeling he won't slam it back this time. ]
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he focuses on the spot where her hand sits against his and breathes out, shaking away the heaviness but keeping his hand where it was. ]
My turn.
[ he nods and taps a nail against the side of the glass. ]
Anything's forgivable or some things just can't be forgiven?
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i'm a terrible person, but i'm working on it. she'd said that once. maybe the same was true for him. maybe she just accepted that they were both terrible, and that's all there was to it. ]
I have to hope anything's forgivable.
[ or she'll never be able to be honest with him. a pang of fear spikes between them, and caroline takes a drink. ]
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still, he doesn't press. that's not the game, after all. he nudges his fingers against her hand and nods. ]
Your turn.
[ he takes a slower drink while he waits for her question. ]
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Would you rather people be honest with you, or try to protect your feelings?
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[ the answer is immediate. he's aware of the damage that being honest can do but he prefers that than to being in the dark. he doesn't want to be made to feel like a damn fool because everyone knows something that he doesn't. ]
Always.
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[ she's not ready to tell him yet. maybe that's selfish. maybe it's wrong. but she likes the way he looks at her when he smiles, likes the companionship he's given her, and there's an ever-present fear that he won't when he finds out. that he'll be too disgusted or afraid or angry to think of her the same way, and that she'll lose him in the process.
it shouldn't matter that much, but it does. she doesn't exactly have a wide range of people here to begin with. ]
Your turn.
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Loved and lost or never loved at all?
[ or maybe he'd stay right in the deep end. ]
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[ never loving anyone, that is. never being able to, or choosing not to — either way, it was a lifetime of loneliness. and when your lifetime stretched out impossibly long, that loneliness was more than one person could bear. ]
At least if you were in love, you know you could do it again.
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[ do it again, that was. it's not his turn but the question slips out anyway. ]
Sometimes being alone is just...
[ he trails off and takes his turn staring down at his drink now. ]
A smarter choice.
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[ it was for caroline. alone, she made worse choices. she didn't have anyone to lean on, anyone to guide her. she was emotional and shallow and scared a lot of the time.
being alone only made that worse. ]
Would you rather remember and love in the future, or forget and always be alone?
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