Welcome to my first VD 'fic-let," starring Caroline and Matt. I really, really wanted these two to work! Enjoy! Remember to leave a review!

You Are the Blood in My Veins

Caroline Forbes was incapable of love. At least, everyone believed she was. They claimed she was neurotic, insecure, selfish, shallow, high-strung, and controlling. She was an indomitable force, sure, powerful hurricane goddess unable to be contained or reckoned with, but she was also just a girl with dreams and hopes and heartaches. Even her friends, of whom she had precious few, were beholden to these ideas. They thought she was high-maintenance, dramatic, and exhausting. When she asked them favors, they joked about what a slave driver she was, and how she would break their necks if the smallest detail was out of place. They stuck by her side, but she knew they found her difficult and whiny. Their loyalty was not based on any great love or respect for Caroline herself, but from a friendship birthed in the innocence of first grade and a shared history – before boys and makeup and texting; before playing Barbies was uncool and they spent most Saturdays painting their nails and watching movies; before fathers left mothers to date other men and parents' bodies could be submerged in deadly waters from which they would not emerge alive; before witches, werewolves, and vampires, and monsters that went bump in the night. Before Damon and Stefan Salvatore.

Make no mistake: Caroline had no trouble 'getting a guy.' They were practically lined up for a chance to date her. Since she had upgraded from a training bra in the seventh grade, with her blond hair, her blue-green eyes, and her pretty Southern Belle face, she had had a string of boyfriends from the time she was thirteen years old. Indistinguishable, boring jocks and boys in leather jackets riding motorcycles (they all thought they were cool – all trying to be James Dean, rebels without causes – but she saw right through them; they all had the same daddy issues); musicians, guitarists and drummers, lead singers who smoked pot and wrote their own music, each one foolishly believing they were new and original, that they alone had something important worth saying to their generation, their perceptions of grandeur and self-importance perpetuated by their extensive drug usage and arguments with the rest of their bands. She had dated a couple college guys (yawn, it was all smutty and frat houses, beer pong and attempting to reclaim their high school glory days), a theatre geek (too much drama), a few preppies (guys more conceited and narcissistic than she), and a nameless dude from the town over who used to work at the cinema and would sneak her into movies for free. She had even dated a delinquent or two, just to spite her sheriff mother.

None of them had meant anything to her. They had simply served their simple, basic purposes – Friday night dates and event escorts, homecoming partners and alcohol suppliers, between-class make-out sessions behind the bleachers and distractions to keep her mind off her pathetic life. Caroline Forbes was a hot item in Mystic Falls, and as such must always be seen with her latest eye-candy on her arm. She needed to continue her desirable image, and thus must never appear to be too available. The secret was to always leave the crowd wanting more.

But love? No, Caroline had never loved any of them. Not even close. There had been lust – hot, heavy sex – friendship (sometimes), maybe a little sisterly affection (rarely), and apathy bordering on resentment (often), but never anything more than that. Usually her relationships consisted of convenience and boredom, self-interest and matching dresses and ties. Never love. Caroline wasn't sure she believed in romantic love – just look at the failed relationships surrounding her. No, love was a myth. A fairytale story you told children at night to give them happy dreams, setting them up only to met with crushing disillusionment later in life. Love was the excuse made to justify bitterness and disappointment; it was false, and it was certainly not worth the effort or the heartache.

She had sincerely believed that – little Miss Caroline Forbes, unseen, alone, unloved. She hadn't believed in love, in reckless selfishness for the sake of another, in soul mates, in desiring to be with another person that much – not lust, but a deeper, more profound desire, where just to be beside them, in their presence, to sit next to them on the couch and watch lame late-night television was enough to bring unparalleled happiness and fulfilled your truest of dreams. She hadn't believed – until now. Until Matt Donovan.

For years, Matt had been off-limits. He was Elena's guy BFF since diapers, and when the two of them had decided to see if their relationship extended beyond friendship, Friday night group hang-outs had been downsized to date nights. Their girlfriend-boyfriend relationship had been short-lived – Elena's parents had died, and anything that might have bloomed was suddenly cut short. If her parents hadn't died, if Stefan Salvatore hadn't walked into her life, who knows what might have blossomed between the two childhood friends? Maybe Caroline would never have gotten her chance with Matt. Maybe wedding bells would have rang right out of high school.

So Matt and Elena were back to being friends, now with the added appellation of "exes," who may or may not still have feelings for each other. The unspoken rule of teenage friendship: you do not date your best friend's ex. You maintained your loyalty to your friend – even if she had not been a very good or considerate friend lately, and had taken up with the ex-boyfriend who had manipulated and abused you. Caroline had never thought of Matt as a potential companion. They had grown up together, sure, but in her memories it was always her and Matt and others; she had never spent enough time with him alone to see him as anything other than just another guy friends – a friend by association, friendship born in the convenience and proximity of just another American small town. Of course, she had always known he was a total babe (hello, she wasn't blind; even as a kid, he'd had that sweet boy-next-door, blond hair, blue eyed cute factor), and he was on the football team which made him eligible. He possessed a grown-up quality none of the other boys she knew had yet to (and probably would never) achieve. He was mature and cool, living alone with his sister and taking care of their home. There was a sweetness in the way he always looked out for Vicki. He was a genuinely good guy – one of very few.

But Caroline had never actually considered dating Matt. Honest. She was Elena's friend; she would never do that to her (no matter her thoughts on Elena's foolishness for dumping Matt in the first place). She had only ever considered Matt a friend, a kind of protective, brotherly figure. She never would have pursued Matt, but Elena's life had become completely wrapped up in the Salvatore brothers, Stefan suddenly taking precedence in her life, and the cold-hearted and cruel (which his smoldering sexiness did not make up for, btw) Damon (which sounded absurdly like 'demon.' Coincidence? She thought not.) had been thrust into Caroline's life. He had played her, used her, and abused her. He had deemed her useless and worthless. In a matter of seconds he had torn Caroline down, ripping her into pieces and exposing all her insecurities, proving to her she was nothing. She was no one.

His words were loud in her head. She just wanted them to stop, wanted to silence them, the truth she heard spoken back to her in a hundred voices. Every hurtful word anyone had ever poured into her ears. She tried to drown them in alcohol, numb her brain, the part of her heart wouldn't stop aching, in shots and glass after glass of whatever was available. This was a party, she justified, and she drank. And drank. Consumed more than usual, more than she had since her big mistake in freshman year, until she forgot herself and blurred the sharp edges of her consciousness. The room had swam in her vision, as she sought refuge, but Matt's image was clear. She had laid her intoxicated self on his altar and left herself to his fate. Matt had lifted her into his arms – such strong, warm arms – and carried her, taken her home, and cared for her. Not once had he attempted to take advantage of her inebriated state. He had protected her, spent the night cuddle in her bed, a safe cocoon of blankets and body heat. He had not abandoned her, left her to the darkness and the torment of her own mind. He had stayed. No one stayed in Caroline's life, but he had. Matt stayed. Caroline hadn't known it could feel so good, so safe, having a boy in her bed. She wanted him to stay there forever.

Caroline's first inkling that she had the capacity to fall in love had been then, the bittersweet disappointment of finding him gone in the morning light, and desperately hoping it hadn't been merely a lovely dream.

She had confronted him at school, swallowing her feelings and attraction in an attempt to hold onto her dignity and pride. He cut-off her spiel mid-sentence: he had enjoyed being with her; there was something inherently right about lying in bed with her. Could they hang out again? Their relationship had progressed from there – fun, innocent, and sweet. They just wanted to spend time together. Watching bad late-night television was the closest she had ever come to paradise.

With each hour they passed together, more of Caroline's walls came down. She was able to be real and vulnerable with Matt in a way she had never been with anyone, not even Bonnie. He saw Caroline Forbes for who she truly was, and she was someone beautiful, someone special. Someone worthy.

Matt told Caroline he loved her.

Matt Donovan was her first love. He was the only man she loved during her lifetime.

That bitch Katherine ruined everything. They were young and in love, with their entire lives ahead of them, bright futures they had begun to dream of spending together. Weaving themselves into each other's plans and hopes. Caroline, who hadn't believed in marriage since her father left, had even begun to entertain fantasies of marrying Matt in a little white church, having his adorable blond-haired babies, and growing old together on a back-porch, holding hands in the twilight of their lives and the evening sun.

Then Katherine had killed her.

Caroline still wanted to make it work. She loved Matt too much to give up their relationship, but she had been naïve. Foolish. She was going to be seventeen forever – forever. Time would never touch her, would never mar her beauty. Vampirism had stolen her dreams of children and grandchildren, of being a middle-aged mom balancing a career and soccer practices, slow dancing silver-haired with the love of her life, who claimed she looked more beautiful every day, and taking her final breath in the happiness of his arms. She had died alone and frightened in a hospital bed, with demon blood in her veins. She had been murdered, and awoken to the curse of immortal life.

She could not continue with Matt. Eventually he would notice she never aged, never aged. Someday she would mess up, and be unable to explain away her strength or speed. She loved him too much to spend their entire lives compelling him. Someday she would be forced to tell him the truth. What if he hated her? Disavowed and despised what she had become, the way Bonnie and her mother had? What if she repulsed him? What if he couldn't see that through the curse, she was still the woman he had fallen in love with?

And if he didn't hate her, scorn her, reject her, what then? What future could they have? Did she rob him of his humanity to gratify her selfish desires? Did she condemn him to an eternity of this hell, this infernal hunger? Did she damn him, blacken his soul? Did she destroy his goodness and light by turning him into a killer? A demon? Did she have the right? Did she steal his life, his future, his ability to have children as good and kind as him, just for her own sake?

No, she couldn't do it.

And yet…there were worse possibilities. Worst imaginable: what if she hurt him? What if she killed him? He smelled so wonderful, a thousand times better than he had before. So tantalizing. She had tasted him once, in a moment of weakness, and he was delicious. The nurse, the carnival worked, the deputies, they were nothing in comparison. Matt's blood was an elixir – warm and sweet, a hint of salt and savory; hearty, robust, rich, and thick. How pleasantly his life-blood, his essence, had slid down her throat and swam in her veins, making her feel warmth and pleasure. God, he was absolutely delectable. She remembered acutely the taste of him, and it frightened her. What if she couldn't control the urges, knowing the luscious liqueur of his blood, and she attacked him? What if, lost in passion and desire, his mouth pressed to hers, her lips brushing along his neck, passion changed into carnal hunger, and she tore into his neck? What if she didn't have the strength to stop herself, and she killed him?

No. She couldn't let that happen. She needed to protect Matt from herself.

Caroline Forbes performed the most selfless act of her life – living and otherwise – and no one knew the extent of her sacrifice. She acted the bitch, the possessive controlling psycho girlfriend. She played the part they all expected her to be. She behaved neurotically and insecurely. She drove Matt to break up with her. It was better this way, she continually reminded herself, as her bed grew cold without him, his steady reassuring heartbeat. It would be easier for him if he hated her.

But Katherine, that damned Katherine, who had caused it all, wouldn't let her be. She played Caroline and manipulated her, the way Damon had. She bullied and intimidated her to do her will. She couldn't use compulsion on another vampire, but she could do something worse: she threatened to hurt Matt. Even apart from him, Caroline was a danger to him. He was her weakness, and she was his doom. There could be no future for them.

Yet, ironically, tragically, that was how she knew she truly loved Matt – he was the one person she feared most of losing; he was the one Katherine used against her; he was the one she would let go to save. In a life that would stretch on indefinitely, he was her biggest regret.

Caroline Forbes had finally learned to love. And in learning to love, she had lost. She loved Matt Donovan, but she could never have him.

Matt was the only boy her human self had ever loved. Matt alone. The final tie to her humanity. Whatever the future held, an eternity of blurred days, of darkness and blood, of fear and misery and guilt; whatever horrors and brief glimpses of happiness, whatever new feelings or loves, she knew a part of her, the most human part of her soul, would always love Matt Donovan. A part of her would always remember him, the warmth of him, his blood rushing through her veins. She would always remember, and she would regret.