Words are Weapons

A new canon story through TO 2x18 and TVD 6x17.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

There were a lot of good things about not having emotions. There was no shame in finishing the ice cream carton off. There was no guilt in drinking that eighth shot of tequila. There were no qualms buying those leather pants she'd always wanted. She had the body to wear them. Drinking from the vein versus bunnies or blood bags wasn't anything to feel regret over. There was no fear when a strange blonde woman coughed to get her attention.

Pulling back from Stefan's embrace, Caroline Forbes quirked a brow at him.

"Do you want to kill her?" she asked with her arms draped over his shoulders.

"Your turn. Try to play with her first. It's more fun," he said lightly, stepping back.

Caroline spun around quickly, hair and skirt twirly madly.

The other woman raised her hands and began to chant, sending both vampires to their knees. They held their splitting heads in their hands.

"You're not what I expected," the witch said. She'd certainly found the right person, but the vampire before her didn't match the memories.

Her voice held a hint of something old-fashioned or maybe English wasn't her first language, Caroline noticed through the pain. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. Join the club.

Struggling to her feet, Caroline brushed off her palms. Whoever was in charge of sweeping the Scull Bar was not doing a good job. Come to think of it, that could be the guy groaning in the back room. She lightly brushed off her white dress, frowning at a smudge.

"If you came here to listen to some amazing karaoke, you're in luck," she snarked, checking out her manicure while she calculated her escape routes to get away from the witch.

"Who are you?" Stefan asked as he drank straight from a whiskey bottle they pilfered from the bar's extra supplies when he rose to his feet. They'd gone through everything behind the bar within a few hours. The back room was their next stop. It made Caroline's singing and dancing more bearable to him. Once she started singing, it was like she couldn't stop.

The witch walked towards them from the doorway. "My name is not important."

"Not Important, I'm afraid the bar is closed," he said with a smug smile.

"I'm afraid I'm not here for you," Freya Mikaelson retorted and broke both of his wrists with a twist of her hand.

Caroline whooshed over to grab the falling whiskey bottle before it hit the floor, shrugging when she saw the witch's shocked look. Stefan writhed in pain with neither woman paying him any attention.

"Something is different about you," Freya mused aloud as she circled Caroline.

"I've been parting my hair a little further to the side," she said with a hand on her hip, dropping the now empty bottle to the ground with a crash. The shards bounced off her leather boots and she didn't flinch, but Freya did. Now someone would definitely sweep the floor.

Caroline could use Stefan as a vampire shield to escape. She could vault over the upended table and be out of the door within seconds. Or she could find out what was going on and what it meant to her.

"What do you want?"

"You're my insurance and you're coming with me."

Caroline laughed lightly. "Why would I do that?"

Freya smirked and Caroline didn't like the look on her face. She was already at a disadvantage and Freya looked like she just figured something else out.

Freya did figure something out. The memories she'd seen of the blonde vampire were of her being protective and strong, but there was something missing now. Her humanity seemed to be missing. She heard of such a thing with vampires. This could work to her advantage.

Stepping over to Stefan, Freya picked up the biggest piece of broken glass near him. Eyes on Caroline, she pressed the glass into Stefan's chest. His hands were still useless and blood poured out of the wound.

There wasn't a flicker of anything in Caroline's eyes.

Tossing the glass away, Freya put a hand on the blue pendant hanging around her neck and put her other hand on Stefan's chest, looking into his eyes. He too appeared to be missing his humanity.

Chanting again, she dug around in Stefan's mind and turned his emotions on for him.

Instantly, his eyes became bleak. Freya stood and watched him crumple in on himself.

"Caroline," he whispered, looking around in horror. Guilt and shame weighed on him and his eyes closed in pain.

Freya watched Caroline's reaction and saw how she stiffened, not in empathy for her friend, but with concern that the same thing could happen to her.

"I can knock you out or," Freya started when Caroline made a break for the doors. Snapping her neck it was. Caroline fell in a heap in the doorway.

.

.

.

Rubbing her sore neck, Caroline looked around the furnished studio apartment. She hadn't ever been there before she knew within the first few seconds. She could hear a heartbeat in the room with her and traffic outside. Looking out the window from her perch on a bed, they weren't on the ground floor.

Seeing Freya, she stood up. "How many times did you snap my neck?"

Freya pointed to the new bracelet on Caroline's wrist, ignoring the question. "That will keep you in New Orleans."

She walked to the door and Caroline stopped her with more questions. "New Orleans? Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

"It's not you I want something from. Your presence is enough, Caroline," she revealed as she closed the door behind her.

The door closed with a final click. How long had she been out? Who was that woman?

Caroline's fingers went to her wrist first, but the bracelet wouldn't budge. At least it wasn't ugly. It was gold with a blue stone in the center.

She tried the door next and it opened which had her breathing a little easier. Her back rested against it when she closed it to think.

There was only one person she knew who was in New Orleans. It was someone she didn't want to see.

First things first though. She needed blood, vervain, and a shower.

Noticing the brown leather bag on the bed sitting next to some keys, she found her pocketbook and toiletries on top of her clothes. Her phone revealed missed calls and messages, but she tossed it aside. Taking a shower won as her top priority.

Putting on some navy shorts and a white top when she was clean, she caught her first glimpse of New Orleans when she stepped outside. She also spotted her first meal. Letting him live by not draining him dry to keep a low profile until she figured out the situation she found herself in, her eyes glittered. Her year without humanity just took an interesting turn.