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Caroline was finally in on what felt like one massive joke: Damon and Stefan were vampires and half the time when they fought over Elena they were really fighting over Katherine. It was creepy and incestuous, just the kind of thing for a good vampire bodice-ripper Caroline would have read before. She remembered all the ways Damon had used her, and the romance was utterly lost on her. Solitary young men with eyes too old for their looks were officially off her menu.
It was too bad she didn't realize before she became undead, but her mother had always told her some lessons only came with experience.
She noticed a change in Damon a few months after she was vampified. It was possible he'd been different for a while, but she had a lot of things on her mind. One night when she'd gone fangy at The Mystic Grill, he'd caught her running away from Matt and helped her get control of herself. He'd actually led her into the ladies' room and stroked her hair.
"Technically, I'm your sire," he said almost fondly. "We should try to get along if you're going to blend in with the innocent townsfolk. What does Stefan have you eating?"
"Bunnies," she muttered tearfully at his collar.
"Ugh, no wonder you're about to eat a whole section of diners. Did Stefan at least show you where to bite on a person?"
"Wrist," she sniffled, mortified by the electric sensation through her jaw as she thought of it. Matt would let her, at least before he got scared, he would think she was being kinky.
Damon huffed, but he offered his wrist. She stepped back and frowned at him. "It won't be like drinking from the source, but it will be human blood, warmed to more or less body temperature," he said calmly, waggling his hand like he was impatient to be bitten. "You drink from me, then you get cleaned up and I hide the bite. You can go back to your date, and later you can meet me at the boarding house, where you and I will discuss your nutritional requirements with my anachronistically idealistic brother."
He held steady while she bit, and even continued stroking her hair in that firm, petting motion she vaguely remembered from his kinder moments using her for blood. Caroline sucked down the blood and felt better, sharper. She could focus. Damon looked paler; he was never going to be a guy who looked tan. She couldn't feel his emotions or sense his soul or anything like that. He was just Damon, caustic and mocking even at his sweetest.
"Thank you."
He nodded, and disappeared to do his own clean up.
Caroline got through her date and went to her usual vampire study group with Stefan. She found herself oddly siding with Damon against her mentor.
"She doesn't need to drink human blood," Stefan insisted. "Caroline, you just need to work on your control."
"And you've been clean and sober for how long, little brother? She's new, she needs the real thing or she'll never learn how to control it. She lives with the sheriff, in a house packed with vervain and wooden bullets. If you're going to give Caroline the idea she can live this way, you have to support her in being as strong as possible. That means human blood, mind control and kickboxing if it will help."
Stefan argued for weeks, long enough for Matt to end up shy a few quarts of blood and a few minutes of his memories. Caroline was ashamed, but it had been building up to inexorable levels and she needed what he had. She didn't kill him, but that was about all she could manage. It was ironic because she had always been one of those girls who watched tragic lovers parted and said 'come on, you're just being dumb, you can find a way.' She couldn't be near him unless she was drinking human blood regularly.
She and Damon became the Bonnie and Clyde of blood bank robberies in neighbouring states. Stefan was disapproving, but he didn't interfere. Caroline spent her weekends on road trips to break into coolers. She found herself admiring Damon's quick, efficient use of violence. She slouched in front of a hotel televisions glutted with type AB+. Damon always let her take the first shower, and he could be pretty nice when he thought she'd done a good job.
Then one day, she handed him her empty mug as he was getting up. Damon looked archly at her sprawl and said flatly, "I knew I should have staked you."
He smiled then, face and eyes and everything lighting up with genuine affection and humour. She smiled back, and there really was no resentment. He had been right about her chances then, and she didn't want to hurt people. Stefan's lessons could only help her so much.
"I'm way too cute for that," Caroline told him pertly.
"I didn't say in the heart," he flirted, turning away to rinse their blood-stained mugs.
Caroline was astonished to realize while she'd been spending all her free time with Damon, he'd been spending all his free time with her. She studied him as he scrubbed at the incriminating dishes.