Someday This'll Be A Story.

She leaves when the bodies aren't quite cold on the ground. The war with Klaus is over and Elijah has kept his word and Elena is still alive by the end of it so they've probably won. But her mom will never refuse to let her stay out late again and she'll never be jealous of Matt looking at another girl and she'll never really get to know whether her what if with Tyler could have been a story someday.

She doesn't understand what the big deal about being on the winning side is when it feels so much like losing anyway.

Elena tries to make her stay.

"Caroline," she says, and stops, like it'd never occurred to her that Caroline would still be standing there, listening beyond the first word, "Caroline."

Elena's skin is paler, her eyes shining with the promise of eternity. She's still more beautiful than Caroline. She's always going to be more beautiful than Caroline.

She remembers the sandbox Tyler pushed her in when she was nine, she remembers Elena's dolphin earrings which she'd "borrowed" and never returned, she remembers Bonnie teaching her about football because she'd heard that Davis Parker in her math class liked football and Caroline liked Davis Parker, she remembers Matt kissing her like he wasn't thinking of Elena, she remembers Stefan telling her that she reminded him of his best friend (she always reminds people of someone else), she remembers four-year-old Jeremy lisping that she was the second prettiest girl in the whole world and he would marry her if Vicki Donovan didn't want to marry him, she remembers her mother telling people that Caroline was her daughter when she won the spelling bee in sixth grade.

She remembers because she's a vampire and she's going to remember until she tries to forget and she keeps forgetting to forget.

Bonnie helps her pack. Sensible clothes, jackets and scarves and shoes for the weather in nowhere. And when she isn't looking, Caroline adds in her purple gown and the silver shirt which actually sparkles in the sunlight. And that yellow dress which Damon used to hate and she's always loved.

Bonnie doesn't notice. Bonnie doesn't look at her anymore. She doesn't mind, she doesn't look in the mirror anymore either.

"We're family, you know. You could stay. We need you."

She thinks she might be a little bit in love with Stefan Salvatore.

She could stay. (She doesn't).

Damon is the last person she sees in town. He's standing next to her house in his big fancy car with his big fancy shades like he has any right to be there. To see her like this.

"Always knew you couldn't handle it, Blondie. Bet you're wishing now that I'd staked you that day at your eventful christening in the world of the undead."

She doesn't look at him, doesn't rise to his taunts, because if she can't help him being the last person she's going to see here, his voice is definitely not going to be the last sound she remembers.

He stands there watching her and she hates it. Hates that he can still make her feel shallow and stupid, and useless after all this time. Hates that she has his blood running through her veins. Hates that she doesn't feel anything for anyone else and still manages to hate him.

He takes off his shades, letting those beautiful eyes rove over her body deliberately, making her skin crawl, "hasta la vista."

"No," she says, because she's been flunking Spanish since seventh grade but she knows this. Because this is more important than not remembering him as the last person she ever talked to in the place where she's lived and died, "No, Damon. We'll never meet again."

He tilts his head in the way he always does, like she's young and stupid and she fucking hates him. "Forever's a long time, Caroline. We're going to meet again."