AN: So I'm not even gonna figure out where this came from, but I have been wanting to write some Carolena for a while now. Either way, this is so much darker than I intended this to be, and I intended it to be dark. Whoops? Anyway, the title is the scientific name for the Poppy flower, which is a symbol of sleep, death, and peace. Morbid, right? Anyway, basically Elena didn't have vampire blood in her when Bekah sent them off the bridge and she actually died, Bonnie used her badass power to bring her back but Elena isn't exactly grateful. I am completely in love with the song, you should all listen to it. Review if you please. Enjoy:)

Papaver Somniferum

"I can see your eyes, staring into mine,

But it's a battlefield and you're on the other side.

You can throw your words, sharper than a knife,

And leave me cold, in another house on fire.

I, lay low, lay low and watch the bridges burn,

I, lay low, lay low, what more could I have done?

Now you only bring me black roses,

And they crumble into dust when they're held,

Now you only bring me black roses,

Under your spell…"

-Clare Bowen

"Black Roses"

The lights begin to darken and Caroline takes her seat in the very center of the theater. She clutches the playbill in her cold hand, eyes fixed on the red curtains. The theater is dark now, but Caroline can see everything in perfect clarity. The man on her left shifts too close for comfort, but she doesn't move, her eyes don't stray from the stage.

At last the curtains rise. The scene of domestic bliss starts, and Caroline holds back a snort of derision.

Of course she'd pick this play.

She barely follows the plot, impatience getting the better of her; she's only here for one thing—or rather, one person. The audience chuckles and Caroline assumes the actors said something funny, but she couldn't recall the words even if her life depended on it.

At last she is there, moving across the stage in a seductive sway. Caroline is mesmerized, her eyes trace every inch of the ingénue, greedily drinking her in; thanking whatever God there might be for her enhanced eyesight. She can see the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the flutter of her pulse at her wrists.

When it comes time for the intermission, Caroline doesn't move, she doesn't need anything but to see her again, to watch her weave her spell over the audience. That's all she wants. At last the lights blink and the audience returns.

Caroline lets out a breath she's been holding since the curtain closed when she sees her again. The actress is seductive again, easing the leading man away from fidelity and into her soft arms. She licks her lips and Caroline mirrors the movement. She is rapt; nothing else in the world exists but the girl on the stage, magnificent and unrepentant in her lust for a married man. Caroline doesn't know her at all.

The final scene plays out before her, the elegant mass of curls falling to her waist, the sway of her hips beneath the silk of her red, red dress. A single gunshot, and she falls to the floor, her dress a cascade of red over her lithe body, her hair sprawled around her like a halo of darkness. Her hand outstretched, reaching. Eyes open and unseeing, the curtains close. The audience is on its feet as a collective whole, their admiration a roar that doesn't clear the last image from Caroline's mind.

Her hand outstretched, reaching. Eyes open and unseeing, the curtains close.

At last the curtains open and the cast is there, beaming at the audience, taking their bows. When she moves forward for her bow, the applause becomes absolutely deafening. The smile she bestows upon them is that of a fallen angel. She mouths thank yous and all Caroline can do is watch the way her mouth shapes around the words.

When Rebekah sent Matt's truck off the bridge, they thought it was over. Stefan saved Matt and Elena died. She died and they thought that was it. But they couldn't let her go. So Bonnie did what she had to do. While the magic rattled her teeth and tore apart her insides, they sat in a circle around Elena's body in the morgue. For a second there was only wind and then there was nothing.

Her hands curved against her thighs, eyes closed and mouth slack. It didn't work.

Bonnie tightened her grip and bent over her, shaking and distraught. Elena surged upward so suddenly Jeremy jumped back. Her eyes fluttered open, taking in the room. She met the green eyes hovering over hers. The betrayal in her dark eyes knocked the breath right out of Caroline and brought Bonnie to her knees.

"I didn't want to come back," she whispered hoarsely. It was a punch to the gut and no one could breathe.

She watches at the stage door as people bombard the young actress. She is gracious, signing autographs and posing for pictures. She smiles and speaks to every fan as if they are the only person in the world.

When at last she reaches Caroline, the blonde holds out an old picture of them as cheerleaders and watches, as at last, Elena loses her composure. The brunette freezes, pen hovering over the picture, her eyes glued to their smiling faces. Caroline crosses her arms and leans forward so that only Elena can hear her.

"Make it out to Caroline, your biggest fan."

Elena flinches, breathing shallowly, like she's on the verge of hyperventilating.

Caroline straightens, taking satisfaction in watching the girl become so unraveled. She wants to hurt her. She left them, and Caroline wants her to hurt just like she did, like they all did. But with remarkable speed, Elena is suddenly calm, scrawling out a message on the picture.

Raising her dark eyes to meet Caroline's blue ones, Elena smiles, and it's Katherine's smile, dangerous and icy cold. Elena holds out the picture and Caroline takes it. Elena squeezes her fingertips in a calculated motion of affection.

"Come backstage tomorrow, it's been so long, Care," Elena says in a lilting voice, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Caroline's mouth.

Elena moves back, smiles at her again, this time it's her old mean girl smile, all edges and aching sweetness. Then she is gone and Caroline is left standing there holding the picture, a hollow feeling in her chest.

It's been so long since Elena hit back like that, and Caroline feels like all of her insides have been scooped out. She looks down at the picture. Scrawled across their bodies in black ink, the message mocks her.

To Miss Mystic Falls, my biggest fan, love, Elena Pierce.

Next to the word love, Elena had drawn a looping heart, like she used to do when she passed Caroline notes during French class.

Caroline is still standing at the stage door when everyone else is gone.

It took months for them to realize she meant it; she wouldn't forgive them for this. She didn't want to come back, and they couldn't let her go. Up until graduation, she was distant at best. She spoke when she was spoken to, but other than that, Elena Gilbert was a ghost. She did her homework at the grill and ordered takeout with Jeremy and went to school everyday and to sleep every night. But that was all.

She didn't write in her journal. She never applied to college, and when Bonnie tiptoed around the subject, she laughed this hollow laugh that still rings in their ears, even when they're sleeping.

Damon tried using tough love to bring her back, the usual speeches about how he'd do it all over again, he'd have Bonnie bring her back from the dead a hundred times over. She watched him with dead eyes and the barest hint of a smile. When he was done ranting, she leaned forward and ran her fingers over his cheek.

He froze. It was the first physical contact she'd initiated since Bonnie brought her back, and it was so soft and tender he felt like crying. Then her hand dropped and she smiled at him, a blindingly beautiful smile that made him forget to breathe.

"I hate you," she whispered, her voice just as tender, but full of venom. She walked out of the room. He crumbled.

Caroline isn't going to go. She sits in her hotel room and stares at the picture, tracing the elegant curve of Elena's words with her eyes over and over and over again. She isn't going to go. Elena hates her. If she goes, Elena will only hurt her. Caroline stands and goes to her suitcase, pulling out a dark blue dress with a tulip skirt. She's not going.

It had been a horrible idea to come to the opening night of the show, but Caroline couldn't resist. Five years, five years without seeing her face beyond pictures on the internet and bootlegged copies of all her plays.

But once again, Caroline hadn't been able to resist, she just needed to see her face in person. Following her career from afar wasn't good enough anymore. She needed to see her. But watching her on the stage, putting everyone under her spell, playing the seductive, ruined woman with frightening ease, Caroline had been filled with awe, and the need to get closer. The need to hurt hadn't come until the final scene.

Until she watched Elena act out the final moments of the whore's life with such finesse it felt like she was standing before her dead body all over again, praying that Bonnie could bring her back.

That's the thing about Elena Pierce. She plays rich women, poor women, innocent women, and devious women. She plays every kind of woman that exists, but they all have one thing in common, and Caroline hates her for it.

Mindlessly Caroline pulls off her jeans and t-shirt, slipping into the dark blue dress. Zipping up the back and twisting her hair into an elegant knot cements her decision. She's going, if only to see her one more time. She doesn't have to go backstage. She can slip into the back row and just watch.

She puts on sky high red heels and moves across the room to the door before she changes her mind. She has to see her, just once more. She won't go backstage, she won't.

Caroline is very good at lying to herself.

Graduation was a relief and a burden all wrapped up into a neat bow. Caroline couldn't wait to leave, but she was going to miss them all so much. Going to college with Bonnie was a dream come true, the only thing missing was Elena. As far as anyone knew, Elena was staying in Mystic Falls with Jeremy until he graduated. Despite her cold indifference to everyone else, Elena still displayed some semblance of affection for Jeremy.

While her eyes regarded Caroline coldly whenever the blonde attempted to reach out, she always gave Jeremy a grudging half-smile. When she met Bonnie in the hallway, she sidestepped the petite witch without a thought, but she always sat with Jeremy at lunch, even if she never spoke to him and always brought her homework to the table.

She considered Matt with cool aloofness whenever he invited her to a school function and declined as if he were a perfect stranger, but she quietly encouraged Jeremy to participate. Damon had avoided her ever since her admittance of hatred, but Stefan was persistent. He believed that eventually she would forgive them all and be the girl she was before. He was wrong.

On graduation she gave Matt and Tyler tentative smiles and squeezed Caroline's hand. She met Bonnie's eyes for the first time in months and nodded at Stefan. After the ceremony she gave Jeremy a big bear hug and winked at Damon over his shoulder.

They were all convinced it was a turn for the better. That somehow this normal teenage milestone was enough to bring back their Elena. She even came to Caroline and Bonnie's graduation party at the grill. She talked to Bonnie at the bar and cornered Caroline in the bathroom.

The next day she was gone. She didn't even leave a note. Six months later Elena Pierce appeared in her first onstage performance.

Against her better judgment, she goes to the stage door. The security guard raises an eyebrow at her.

She clears her throat. "Caroline Forbes," she says, keeping her voice calm. The man nods.

"Ms. Pierce is expecting you," he says, opening the door for her. She walks through the doorway, lost in thought. She follows the scent of candied violets, vervain, and an underlying musk of darker things to a door with Elena's name on it. The closer she gets the more pronounced the underlying musk becomes. It's the musk of decomposing flowers and blood, nearly hidden by the sickeningly sweet smell of candied violets and the sharp, almost painful scent of vervain.

She leans her forehead against the door, her hand rested against the wood. Closing her eyes she listens to the reassuring beat of Elena's heart. If anything, Caroline cannot regret that sound. Elena as a living, breathing human is worth her disappearing act and her unwillingness to forgive them. Without knocking, Caroline opens the door and enters the room. Elena is seated in front of the vanity mirror, putting on her heavy stage makeup.

Meeting her eyes in the reflection of the mirror, Elena smiles a bittersweet smile at the vampire. The whole room reeks of candied violets and the smell of vervain wafts from the thin bracelet on Elena's wrist. The musk of decomposing flowers and blood makes saliva pool in Caroline's mouth but she doesn't react, afraid of showing any sign of weakness in front of this human girl.

"Caroline," Elena says, drawing out the syllables in an almost seductive purr, making the blonde shiver. Elena's smile grows sharper and she continues, "I'm so glad you came, I wasn't sure if you would."

Elena doesn't turn around to look her in the face, preferring to keep contact limited to their reflections. Caroline leans against the door, her arms behind her back. "I didn't know if I was coming," she admits, studying the human in front of her.

Elena is older than she'll ever be. Twenty-three years old and somehow even more beautiful than the day she left. It hurts, that Elena will grow older and move on with her life while Caroline will forever be seventeen and a little in love with the brunette.

Elena pouts, "Ouch," she drawls, applying dark colors to her eyelids.

Caroline is the one who winces. It's almost painful how distant Elena is. At least in Mystic Falls she still knew who she was. It's been five years and she can barely recognize the girl who left home without a goodbye.

Elena applies her mascara with a careful flick of her wrist, her face an impassive mask. Caroline watches her silently. Her movements are precise, perfectly coordinated and familiar to the actress. Every step flows seamlessly into the next.

"Elena Pierce?" Caroline questions at last.

Elena's mouth curves up in amusement.

The smell of blood persists through the stench of candied violets, acrid vervain and decomposing flowers.

"Katherine has always had a flair for the dramatics," Elena says with a one-shouldered shrug.

Caroline nods in silent understanding.

Elena cards her fingers through the thick curls swept over her shoulder, and adjusted her plum silk dress. All of her costumes in the show are dark, rich colors that make her look inviting and untouchable all at once.

Caroline has the insane urge to sink her fingers into the silk pulled taut against Elena's hips. She clenches her fists and resists.

At last Elena turns and looks her in the eyes. Her eyelashes are heavy and dark, making her stare lazy and seductive all at once.

"So," she drawls, one eyebrow quirked, "Caroline Forbes is a fan?" she questions, her voice dripping innocence.

Caroline meets her eyes defiantly. "Yes, I'm a huge fan. Your performances are amazing," she says, nodding her head sincerely.

Elena gives her a smile, this one so close to being real that her heart jumps into her throat.

"Thank you," Elena replies, her voice as sweet as honey.

"This is the first time I've been able to come to a live performance, I usually watch them online, with Bonnie," Caroline admits. Elena's face goes cold at the name of her old friend.

"What a delight for you," Elena responds calmly, but the blankness of her face gives away her ire. She turns away from Caroline again and grabs a tube of lipstick, the final touch to her character's seductive façade.

Caroline nods, watching Elena still. The smell of blood is so prevalent that Caroline can't hold it in anymore.

"Are you bleeding?" Caroline asks abruptly. Elena smiles Katherine's smile and shakes her head.

"No," she answers simply.

Shaking her head as if to rid the smell of blood from her nose, Caroline focuses on the topmost layer of smells, the candied violets.

Returning to the previous topic, Caroline leaves her place at the door to stand directly behind Elena. The blonde says, "but I have noticed something strange about your roles."

Elena raises her eyebrow. "Oh?" she questions, but Caroline can already see it in her eyes; she knows what she's talking about.

"All the women you play, they all die, why is that?" Caroline asks, her voice straining against the casual cadence she's allowed it.

Elena smiles and paints her mouth the color of blood. It's the exact shade of wet blood; Caroline's had blood smeared across her own mouth enough times to know the color of blood.

"My dear Caroline, have you seen my death scenes?" Elena questions playfully, her eyes cold as ice. "I have dying down to an art form," she purrs, her lips gleaming the color of fresh blood.

Standing this close to her, Caroline knows the intoxicating scents of candied violets; vervain, decomposing flowers, and blood are all coming from Elena.

Caroline swallows the saliva pooled in her mouth but doesn't disagree. Even in crappy video recordings of her plays, Elena's death scenes are painfully beautiful. The resounding thud of her body hitting the stage is the strangest kind of music; her body splays across the ground in a macabre version of seduction. Elena is always beautiful when she dies. If there's one thing Elena Gilbert knows how to do; it's dying.

Caroline can't play her games any longer. "Why do you do it?" she asks, desperate to understand.

Elena raises an eyebrow in a silent question. She already knows what Caroline is asking, but Elena wants her to say it out loud.

"Why do you always play the girl who dies?" she asks between gritted teeth.

Elena looks up at her through their reflection, triumph gleaming in her dark eyes. Slowly, deliberately, Elena turns to stand and meet her face to face, no reflections in between.

"Because that's what I wanted," Elena enunciates, her voice a seductive hiss.

Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, feeling small and weak despite her immortality and superior strength. Elena has always made her feel weak and small.

Elena raises her warm hand to caress Caroline's cold cheek and all Caroline can think of is how she delivered her hatred to Damon on the tips of her fingers, cupped to his cheek. She braces herself for the blow; already knowing it won't be enough.

"I was so tired," Elena spits, her fingers trailing down Caroline's cold cheek and Caroline flinches. "It was so easy to die, all I had to do was let go, and I was finally at peace," Elena tells her, her voice wavering at last, her eyes glassy and so angry. "But then," she punctuates, her voice loud and defiant, "then, I was pulled away from my peace by people who swore they loved me," she hisses, her words sharper than Caroline's teeth. She moves closer, until there is almost no space between their bodies.

She continues, "You were selfish, every last one of you was selfish and cruel, and you didn't care how I felt, only that I was alive," she spits out the last word like it's gone sour. "And I hate you for it," she finishes. Caroline trembles at her words.

"Is that why you left?" she croaks, holding her dark gaze. The actress's blood red mouth pulls up at the corners mockingly.

"You're catching on, at last," Elena purrs, nodding her head. "I couldn't bear to look at you, any of you," she tells her, the brunette's voice a commanding whisper.

Caroline flinches, a deep ache permeating throughout her chest. Her legs wobble and she can't balance in her heels so she lets go, falling to her knees before Elena.

The impact is jarring and suddenly tears spill down her face. Without thinking, she blindly grasps the silk of Elena's dress, leaning forward until her head met Elena's knees and then she cries. Sobs rip their way out of her chest, painful and keening.

Elena is unrepentant. She slides her fingers into Caroline's hair, anchoring her there, but other than that she offers nothing. No comforting words, no soothing sounds. Her fingers grip Caroline's blonde hair, they don't stroke or sooth.

Elena is not sorry for breaking her into pieces. The blonde doesn't see the satisfied smile that twists onto her red lips.

For a long time that's all Caroline can do, cry into the silk of Elena's dress, whimpering at the pain that is threatening to tear her apart from the inside. She's never been hated like this before, especially not by someone like Elena, someone who loves with such every piece of herself, heart, mind, soul, all of it. But most of all, Caroline has never been hated by someone she loves with every fiber of her being.

When the sobs subside, and her shoulders no longer shake, Caroline moves away from Elena, releasing the crumbled silk from her fist. With shaking hands she wipes the saliva and tears and snot from her face. Taking a deep breath she stands.

Elena stares at her impassively; triumph gleaming in her dark eyes.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you? Watching me cry?" Caroline questions with disgust.

This is not the girl she grew up with; this is not the girl she loves.

Elena reaches out her hand again, wiping the rest of her tears away with the gentle tips of her fingers.

"Yes," she replies, a wicked smile growing on her mouth.

Caroline inhales sharply, an exhale quickly following, moments away from hyperventilating.

Elena turns back to the mirror and examines her flawless mask, smiling in satisfaction at what she sees. Turning back to Caroline, she gave her a smile of divine sweetness. Raising her hands, she carefully fixes Caroline's mussed hair.

"I hope you enjoy the show, Caroline," Elena says in a lilting whisper. The thread of sincerity woven through the words confuses Caroline. "Tonight, my performance is just for you," she tells her, smiling her fallen angel smile.

Leaning up, Elena places a chaste kiss on Caroline's mouth. She holds Caroline's face in her hands, delicately. Elena strokes her cheek and then moves back before Caroline can think to return the kiss.

Giving her one last smile, Elena walks away. She closes the door, leaving Caroline alone with her confusion and pain.

She turns to look at her rumpled reflection and stares down the girl in the mirror. She is heartbroken, and it shows on her shattered face. Caroline pretends that aren't the same person. The girl in the mirror has a broken heart, Caroline Forbes is fine.

"The show must go on," she whispers to herself, feeling ironic. She gives herself an biting grin, then fixes her makeup and leaves to find her seat.

AN: Yup. Um, so yeah, review if you please.

xoxo

-PiXie