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This?
This had been a long time coming. This had Caroline literally pacing in the hall, pausing again and again in front of Erik’s door, opening her mouth and closing it. There were so many ways to start this, and sorry I almost ate you that one time but hey, I saved your life, right? wasn’t really the right way to go about it. That much she knew, but actually figuring out how to start-- that was a whole other issue.
Finally after five minutes of the pacing, she stopped in front of his door and squared her shoulders, and knocked, her speech ready and yeah, it wasn’t going to be easy but it’s not like she can’t do it. “Okay,” she said to herself in a whisper, just waiting for the doors to woosh open.
---
“Come in,” Erik called. He’d learned months ago that the doors would open all on their own if you invited someone in, and just then he couldn’t think of anyone worth actually getting up off the sofa for. His leg was still annoyingly sore, and while he had grand plans involving a hot bath later, he hadn’t quite gotten there yet.
He was pretty surprised to see Caroline, but hid it well. She looked nervous as hell, practically wringing her hands. “Something wrong?” he asked, since she looked like (for once) she needed some prompting to speak.
---
“Well, I mean,” she paused, looking down at her shoes for a second, gathering herself, and then it was speech time. “So, first, I hope that you’re feeling better, and I’m sorry that you got bitten. And I know that you’ll be fine eventually and I’m glad about that. I also wanted to just sort of... address, with you, the things that you may or may not have noticed when we were nearly eaten by wolves.” She paused again, her brows furrowing as she corrected herself. “When you were nearly eaten by wolves. That stuff- I mean.”
She licked her lips yet again, clearly just as nervous as he thought her to be. “It’s not like- I mean. You don’t have to... tell anybody. I mean, unless you want. But I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t, and Bruce and Steve and Logan know already so, that’s... just... fine.”
And then she just sort of petered out, obviously waiting for him to say something.
---
“Spit it out,” Erik said, a little impatient. It frustrated him to see her so hesitant and insecure-- frustrated him, and elicited some of the same protectiveness he’d felt toward Raven (his Raven) when they first met. She was extraordinary-- she should know it, and if she’d been taught to believe otherwise, she needed to unlearn the lesson. “Ten words or less, if you can. What do you want?”
---
That made her eyes narrow, and she crossed her arms, her words sharp and biting. “Don’t tell anyone I’m a monster. I saved your life.” Exactly ten words, and she’s looking at him like he’s slime on her shoe, because she hates it when people give her ultimatums, when they act like she’s stupid or blithering. Logan did the same thing and she knocked him on his ass, but Erik’s Mr. Invalid so it’s not like she can do that here.
---
Erik snorted laughter. “You saved my life-- and somehow you’re a monster?” He shook his head, swinging his legs off the sofa, getting stiffly to his feet. “Whatever you are, that’s not the word for it.”
He went to the replicator and told it, “Cold beer.” The bottle that materialized was, as usual, a strange shape and its label wasn’t in any language that originated on Earth. He glanced over his shoulder at where Caroline still stood looking petulant and defiant. “Sit down. Want a drink?”
---
“I sort of check off all the boxes for ‘monster’, so, yeah.” She moves into his rooms, sitting on the edge of the sofa, her arms still folded. She didn’t flump onto it like a lot of teenagers would have, but sat like she was poised to get up and leave. “Scotch. Please.” She tacked on the please because she wasn’t entirely without manners, even if she was still less than thrilled,
---
Erik snorted and looked back at the replicator. “Shirley Temple,” he said, and barely refrained from laughing aloud when it obliged him. He brought the drink to Caroline with a smug little smirk, and set it down on the table in front of her before sitting on the other end of the sofa. “You’re welcome. Now,” he went on immediately, ignoring the indignation seething out of her, “tell me again all about why you’re a monster.”
---
It’s the smug little smile that’s got her rolling her eyes, and she pushes herself up off sofa, moving a little too fast for a regular human - not running, not speedwalking, but physically getting from point A to point B faster than she should. “Scotch.” And it only takes it a second for it to appear, and she takes a sip, nodding slightly before she moves again. She settles herself back at the end of the couch, arching a brow as she looks at him, the Shirley Temple ignored entirely. “It takes the edge off,” she says sweetly, before she looks down into the glass and takes a deep breath.
“How many times have you died in the last, oh, two years? How many people have you killed? How about how many pints of blood have you downed? I’m a vampire. Pretty much falls into the monster category, right there with mummies, werewolves, and ghosts.”
She’s just watching him now, her brows furrowed as her fingers tighten on the glass - which is thankfully thick enough that it won’t crack.
---
Erik didn’t appear concerned-- this overwrought Scarlett O’Hara of the damned act wasn’t doing her any favors, and he wasn’t enjoying being a party to it too much either.
“Died? Never. Killed? Dozens.” He smiled, all teeth. “Humans believe vampires are evil, but they hate and fear what they don’t know. As you just pointed out yourself, you saved my life. Doesn’t that make you a good person?” He sipped from his beer, then set the bottle down on the table, waiting for her answer.
---
She takes a swallow of scotch, and then rolls the glass between her hands as she tries to think of how to formulate the words. “I also nearly ate you,” she said quietly. “When my boyfriend talks to me about tearing people apart, I think it sounds awesome, not terrifying, and that’s something that I think is... scary.” She taps her nails on the glass she’s holding, and then sets it down, leaning back in the sofa. “I’m trying to avoid bonfires and pitchforks. I’m more durable than a lot of people, but not enough that I can’t be hurt, so. That’s why I was hoping you wouldn’t tell anybody.”
She could try and make him, but that’s failed more than it’s worked, to tell the truth. “I saved your life, but I don’t save everybody’s. I drink blood. Right now, I can hear your heart beating, and it’s a thing, that I really think you’d be delicious, and not in a skeezy way, but in a way that makes me wonder if you’re B positive. It doesn’t really make me a good person, no.”
---
Erik sighed. "Your mistake is mixing morality with facts. You drink blood; you have to, if you want to survive. It's no different than the rest of us needing food and water. I can feel the iron in your blood, Caroline. I could pull it all out of you right now if I wanted to. But I won't. Having the ability doesn't make me a monster-- it makes me powerful."
He regarded her for a silent moment, then said, "You still think like a human, and as long as you do-- as long as you measure yourself by their rules-- you'll never be happy.”
---
“Do you want to pull the iron out of my blood? It is like, a low level do-it-do-it-do-it thing? If you did it, would you be glad? Would you be like, oh, man, this is totally awesome? Because, I want to do it. Like - you know that thing that happened? When everybody did what they wanted? I ate from people, because I want to.”
She ran her hand over her face. “This isn’t why I’m here,” she said after a second. “I’m here because I got bitey and my face got weird and I don’t want you to tell anyone. Will you do that for me?”
---
Erik knew when not to push his luck-- he’d gotten her to listen to him for a little while, and even if there wouldn’t be any changing her mind anytime soon, at least the door was open.
For a minute he was quiet as if thinking over her request, when really he was making a different kind of decision. “You don’t know me well,” he said, “so I understand your being concerned. But I’m not the tattling kind.” Ignoring the little twist in his stomach, he pushed up his sleeve, turned his arm over so the terrible number was visible. “Do you know what that means?” His voice was rough; it took her a second and she nearly opened her mouth to say something, before she nodded, her brows furrowed, and Erik said, “Then you understand, I hope. I’ve seen more people dead for simply being who they are-- you have nothing to fear from me.”
He pulled his sleeve back down and got to his feet, reaching for her glass, putting both it and his beer bottle on the side table, composed once more, his voice back to the cool, businesslike tone he’d used earlier. “Now. Much as I enjoy your company, I don’t want to get a reputation as a man with a habit of entertaining teenage girls in his room. So unless there’s anything else, it’s time to say good night.”
---
It was weird, that he shut down the conversation, but she had pretty much nothing to say after he showed her his arm. Alaric - before he’d gone crazy and everything, he’d been a good history teacher. They’d talked about it.
And it left her just nodding, moving to the door, and then then finally she found some words - well, three.
“Good night, then.”
And she hesitated for only a second, before she moved to go.
---
“Good night,” Erik said. The door was open and she was halfway through it when he said, “And Caroline.”
She stopped and looked back, and he gave her a serious, expectant look in response. “Think about what I said.” It was a moment before she nodded, but when she did, Erik relented with a little smile, and said again, “Good night.”
When she was gone, he flopped back down on the couch and put his feet up on the table, his hands curled loosely by his sides. He felt oddly drained-- it had been a long time since Erik had been in the position of advising anyone, much less an impressionable teenager, and he was annoyed to discover it made him think back to Westchester, to the pride he’d felt in seeing Raven, Alex and the rest come into their own. That was what Caroline needed-- the time and space to come to terms with what she was, and someone compassionate enough to support her through the process.
Erik was under no illusions that he was equal to the task-- but at the very least he could make sure she stopped hating herself for something she had every right to be proud of.
This had been a long time coming. This had Caroline literally pacing in the hall, pausing again and again in front of Erik’s door, opening her mouth and closing it. There were so many ways to start this, and sorry I almost ate you that one time but hey, I saved your life, right? wasn’t really the right way to go about it. That much she knew, but actually figuring out how to start-- that was a whole other issue.
Finally after five minutes of the pacing, she stopped in front of his door and squared her shoulders, and knocked, her speech ready and yeah, it wasn’t going to be easy but it’s not like she can’t do it. “Okay,” she said to herself in a whisper, just waiting for the doors to woosh open.
---
“Come in,” Erik called. He’d learned months ago that the doors would open all on their own if you invited someone in, and just then he couldn’t think of anyone worth actually getting up off the sofa for. His leg was still annoyingly sore, and while he had grand plans involving a hot bath later, he hadn’t quite gotten there yet.
He was pretty surprised to see Caroline, but hid it well. She looked nervous as hell, practically wringing her hands. “Something wrong?” he asked, since she looked like (for once) she needed some prompting to speak.
---
“Well, I mean,” she paused, looking down at her shoes for a second, gathering herself, and then it was speech time. “So, first, I hope that you’re feeling better, and I’m sorry that you got bitten. And I know that you’ll be fine eventually and I’m glad about that. I also wanted to just sort of... address, with you, the things that you may or may not have noticed when we were nearly eaten by wolves.” She paused again, her brows furrowing as she corrected herself. “When you were nearly eaten by wolves. That stuff- I mean.”
She licked her lips yet again, clearly just as nervous as he thought her to be. “It’s not like- I mean. You don’t have to... tell anybody. I mean, unless you want. But I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t, and Bruce and Steve and Logan know already so, that’s... just... fine.”
And then she just sort of petered out, obviously waiting for him to say something.
---
“Spit it out,” Erik said, a little impatient. It frustrated him to see her so hesitant and insecure-- frustrated him, and elicited some of the same protectiveness he’d felt toward Raven (his Raven) when they first met. She was extraordinary-- she should know it, and if she’d been taught to believe otherwise, she needed to unlearn the lesson. “Ten words or less, if you can. What do you want?”
---
That made her eyes narrow, and she crossed her arms, her words sharp and biting. “Don’t tell anyone I’m a monster. I saved your life.” Exactly ten words, and she’s looking at him like he’s slime on her shoe, because she hates it when people give her ultimatums, when they act like she’s stupid or blithering. Logan did the same thing and she knocked him on his ass, but Erik’s Mr. Invalid so it’s not like she can do that here.
---
Erik snorted laughter. “You saved my life-- and somehow you’re a monster?” He shook his head, swinging his legs off the sofa, getting stiffly to his feet. “Whatever you are, that’s not the word for it.”
He went to the replicator and told it, “Cold beer.” The bottle that materialized was, as usual, a strange shape and its label wasn’t in any language that originated on Earth. He glanced over his shoulder at where Caroline still stood looking petulant and defiant. “Sit down. Want a drink?”
---
“I sort of check off all the boxes for ‘monster’, so, yeah.” She moves into his rooms, sitting on the edge of the sofa, her arms still folded. She didn’t flump onto it like a lot of teenagers would have, but sat like she was poised to get up and leave. “Scotch. Please.” She tacked on the please because she wasn’t entirely without manners, even if she was still less than thrilled,
---
Erik snorted and looked back at the replicator. “Shirley Temple,” he said, and barely refrained from laughing aloud when it obliged him. He brought the drink to Caroline with a smug little smirk, and set it down on the table in front of her before sitting on the other end of the sofa. “You’re welcome. Now,” he went on immediately, ignoring the indignation seething out of her, “tell me again all about why you’re a monster.”
---
It’s the smug little smile that’s got her rolling her eyes, and she pushes herself up off sofa, moving a little too fast for a regular human - not running, not speedwalking, but physically getting from point A to point B faster than she should. “Scotch.” And it only takes it a second for it to appear, and she takes a sip, nodding slightly before she moves again. She settles herself back at the end of the couch, arching a brow as she looks at him, the Shirley Temple ignored entirely. “It takes the edge off,” she says sweetly, before she looks down into the glass and takes a deep breath.
“How many times have you died in the last, oh, two years? How many people have you killed? How about how many pints of blood have you downed? I’m a vampire. Pretty much falls into the monster category, right there with mummies, werewolves, and ghosts.”
She’s just watching him now, her brows furrowed as her fingers tighten on the glass - which is thankfully thick enough that it won’t crack.
---
Erik didn’t appear concerned-- this overwrought Scarlett O’Hara of the damned act wasn’t doing her any favors, and he wasn’t enjoying being a party to it too much either.
“Died? Never. Killed? Dozens.” He smiled, all teeth. “Humans believe vampires are evil, but they hate and fear what they don’t know. As you just pointed out yourself, you saved my life. Doesn’t that make you a good person?” He sipped from his beer, then set the bottle down on the table, waiting for her answer.
---
She takes a swallow of scotch, and then rolls the glass between her hands as she tries to think of how to formulate the words. “I also nearly ate you,” she said quietly. “When my boyfriend talks to me about tearing people apart, I think it sounds awesome, not terrifying, and that’s something that I think is... scary.” She taps her nails on the glass she’s holding, and then sets it down, leaning back in the sofa. “I’m trying to avoid bonfires and pitchforks. I’m more durable than a lot of people, but not enough that I can’t be hurt, so. That’s why I was hoping you wouldn’t tell anybody.”
She could try and make him, but that’s failed more than it’s worked, to tell the truth. “I saved your life, but I don’t save everybody’s. I drink blood. Right now, I can hear your heart beating, and it’s a thing, that I really think you’d be delicious, and not in a skeezy way, but in a way that makes me wonder if you’re B positive. It doesn’t really make me a good person, no.”
---
Erik sighed. "Your mistake is mixing morality with facts. You drink blood; you have to, if you want to survive. It's no different than the rest of us needing food and water. I can feel the iron in your blood, Caroline. I could pull it all out of you right now if I wanted to. But I won't. Having the ability doesn't make me a monster-- it makes me powerful."
He regarded her for a silent moment, then said, "You still think like a human, and as long as you do-- as long as you measure yourself by their rules-- you'll never be happy.”
---
“Do you want to pull the iron out of my blood? It is like, a low level do-it-do-it-do-it thing? If you did it, would you be glad? Would you be like, oh, man, this is totally awesome? Because, I want to do it. Like - you know that thing that happened? When everybody did what they wanted? I ate from people, because I want to.”
She ran her hand over her face. “This isn’t why I’m here,” she said after a second. “I’m here because I got bitey and my face got weird and I don’t want you to tell anyone. Will you do that for me?”
---
Erik knew when not to push his luck-- he’d gotten her to listen to him for a little while, and even if there wouldn’t be any changing her mind anytime soon, at least the door was open.
For a minute he was quiet as if thinking over her request, when really he was making a different kind of decision. “You don’t know me well,” he said, “so I understand your being concerned. But I’m not the tattling kind.” Ignoring the little twist in his stomach, he pushed up his sleeve, turned his arm over so the terrible number was visible. “Do you know what that means?” His voice was rough; it took her a second and she nearly opened her mouth to say something, before she nodded, her brows furrowed, and Erik said, “Then you understand, I hope. I’ve seen more people dead for simply being who they are-- you have nothing to fear from me.”
He pulled his sleeve back down and got to his feet, reaching for her glass, putting both it and his beer bottle on the side table, composed once more, his voice back to the cool, businesslike tone he’d used earlier. “Now. Much as I enjoy your company, I don’t want to get a reputation as a man with a habit of entertaining teenage girls in his room. So unless there’s anything else, it’s time to say good night.”
---
It was weird, that he shut down the conversation, but she had pretty much nothing to say after he showed her his arm. Alaric - before he’d gone crazy and everything, he’d been a good history teacher. They’d talked about it.
And it left her just nodding, moving to the door, and then then finally she found some words - well, three.
“Good night, then.”
And she hesitated for only a second, before she moved to go.
---
“Good night,” Erik said. The door was open and she was halfway through it when he said, “And Caroline.”
She stopped and looked back, and he gave her a serious, expectant look in response. “Think about what I said.” It was a moment before she nodded, but when she did, Erik relented with a little smile, and said again, “Good night.”
When she was gone, he flopped back down on the couch and put his feet up on the table, his hands curled loosely by his sides. He felt oddly drained-- it had been a long time since Erik had been in the position of advising anyone, much less an impressionable teenager, and he was annoyed to discover it made him think back to Westchester, to the pride he’d felt in seeing Raven, Alex and the rest come into their own. That was what Caroline needed-- the time and space to come to terms with what she was, and someone compassionate enough to support her through the process.
Erik was under no illusions that he was equal to the task-- but at the very least he could make sure she stopped hating herself for something she had every right to be proud of.
