[ when elena turns, she ends up ripping a boy in half. his face belongs to a memory of a girl she will never be again; remembering his taunts of a younger jeremy, back when the gilbert house was still a hole, this kid's words would have jeremy shaking to the core. it's purely incidental that she finds him. her hands itch to rip into his skin, and she does the unforgiveable in pulling the flesh from his muscle and completing her transition by draining him dry. a part of her feels no remorse while another part, the larger part, is drowned in it.

she finds him somewhere outside of virginia, in a place she's never been to nor would ever go to. he looks like how he left; hair in place and suit crisp and there's not a single drop of uncertainty when she openly begs him for help. she cannot face her family back home, to see the disappointment curl in stefan's posture, the sparkle of pride in damon's eye, and the pity and sympathy that undoubtedly would exude from caroline. she fears jeremy's most of all; she picks fights with those he can battle on his own.

out in the woods, where it's abandoned, elena feels her senses starting to relax. the city, with it's sights and smells and sounds, is overwhelming. she urges to rip it away, to tear the flesh from bones again to simply make the guilt stop. pulling her out into the woods has her hearing the crunch of leaves, the breathing of animals hiding near by, and silence. the urge to kill is gone; pretending she is a normal girl is much easier out here. ]

So … [ it's too quiet for her; she's still getting used to hearing sounds she never thought possible, even after weeks of being by his side. his tutelage has proven useful, and she has found herself calming, feeling more in control, but a part of her is afraid and it is this that overwhelms her and keeps her glued firmly to his side. ] Is this the part where you teach me to eat bunnies?

[ her face is scrunched up. she feels guilt for everything, and love, the biggest pain in the ass of all, is she feels compassion for these animals, like she belongs with them or they with her. a child she sees on the street she feels overwhelmed to care for. the urges are hard to control along with the desire to give into the creature she's become. ] It's just that … I'm not really sure I can do that.

The ground floor of the Hyperion is abandoned, except for the lonely figure of Cordelia sitting at the desk behind the counter. Doodling on a pad, she feels restless and very wide awake. Without being hit with a vision, let alone a painful one, she's felt incredibly on edge; she's used to them occurring after a certain amount of days and weeks, of when the weather looks a little green in the sky, but going without them for so long gives her a reason to worry.

It's a slow adjustment, going from months of migraines to merely seeing something play out before her eyes like a mere memory. Painless, it gives Cordelia a sense of an anxious layer sitting on her shoulders; where there are no consequences, there is always trouble. In her case, it's always very big trouble. Cordelia Chase can deal with trouble, but her sleeping clock cannot.

So sitting at the desk with her head leaning against her closed fist while she draws circles and images from past visions she still has saved inside her head, she doesn't hear nor sense anyone else in the room. Angel's locked up brooding in a corner while Fred draws on even more walls while Gunn and Wesley watch her adoringly from afar. It's all fun and games, and it's a breath of necessary fresh air, but Cordelia can't enjoy it as much as she normally would. Something horrible is coming. She doesn't need the Spidey Senses the Powers have given her to know that. What it happens to be, though, she can't quite put her finger on it, and that is what truly keeps her up on most nights; trying to foresee something before they are ready to let her see it. It's a migraine in the making.

The best thing about summer is the fact that all the crazy crap that happens seems to slow down to a nice, smooth halt. Caroline can go back to being delusional and thinking she's a normal girl hanging out with a boy she now kind of likes more than she did about a year and a half ago. Tyler's turning into someone she can't quite tear her gaze from, and she's finding that she honestly doesn't mind it.

In her room sits a calendar on a dresser by her bed. Today's date has been circled, and in pen she's scribbled Full moon across it. She's not quite sure if Tyler's keeping track of the one thing that doesn't make him normal, but she has been. It fills her with anxiety when she realises what today will actually entail. Him transforming, with his bones breaking underneath him, is the worst sound and sight she's ever bared witness to. It's one thing that haunts her when she's asleep. Abandoning Tyler during his time of need, even if he won't openly admit it, is something Caroline will gladly swallow her discomfort for. When she needed a friend, she had no one to turn to; she refuses to allow the same for Tyler, regardless of how annoyingly stubborn he is or how confused he makes her feel when he gives her a particular smile.

That's why she's at the Lockwood mansion, knocking on the door with her perky demeanour revving on overdrive. Pushing Tyler to prepare himself is what she does best; Caroline enjoys taking the wheel and pulling people along to face the things they need to in order for her to avoid hers. It's turning around on her, though, as the one thing Tyler never wants to face seems to be the very thing she fears, too. "Open up, Lockwood! I can hear you in there shuffling around!" She chirps cheerily and gives the door another hard, impatient knock.