hey old friend, whadaya say old friend

[beanchaointe]

[Stiles has told Lydia several times that she doesn't need to stay in Mystic Falls. She's refusing to listen. Things are starting to get worse here, and whatever impending storm is coming is going to be here soon. She puts herself out and about in town when she can, trying to see if she can catch something that might give her a clearer idea of what's going to happen.

What she isn't expecting, is to run into a familiar face.

She's having another text argument with Stiles about her current life choices when she catches a familiar set of cheek bones out of the corner of her eye. She turns towards them, eyes narrowing before she asks:]

Jackson?

Comments

[phonetically]

What's your name, what's your name. Elena! Elena, you in there? Elena?

( Her name echoes in his mind as he regains more memory of being attacked and crawling away enough to roll down. Caroline had yelled her name.

Caroline has Lydia. He has to trust she does. )

No alone --?

[beanchaointe]

[Caroline's head pokes out of the window, and there's the light pop pop! of gunfire in response. Not close to her, but embedding themselves in the trunk of the car.

A warning shot, whether it's intentional or not. Caroline ducks back down into the car, before she turns, trying to assess who's out there, if she can.

"The people who hit us are looking to finish the job."

The car jerks with the gunshots, and Elena stirs, briefly, but not enough to be conscious and help herself. Her eyes flicker open then close again, succumbing back into unconsciousness.

Lydia's head is spinning. She can still taste Caroline's blood on her lips, and there's a panic, bubbling in her chest. It's been so long since she's had to scream for someone, and she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to scream for any of the people in this car.

But she can feel it coming, like her heart pounding against her rib cage.]

We can't be here. We can't be here, we have to go.

[phonetically]

Elena can barely - no, she can't move. If we can -- find cover and then get out of the car. Make a run for it...

( It's then that he checks his waistband, feeling behind himself. )

They have my weapon. Fuck. That's a weekend of paperwork. And ( To the car. ) Not our biggest issue. Maybe -- your blood, Caroline? Give her your blood and we can -- make a break for it.

[vampireboulevard]

I can't.

[She wishes she could, but it was a sacrifice Elena made when she decided to be human again.]

It won't work on her. Just ...

[She reaches into the back slowly, unbuckling Elena's seatbelt, and reaching one hand up to brace her.]

Lay her down slowly, try not to jostle her too much.

[phonetically]

( He doesn't understand, but, listens to her instructions, carefully trying to brace both her head and back. He tries not to move anything else, tries to keep her as flat as he can. Leaning over he, he manages to lay her down he himself sliding almost off the seat. He's sat up now, giving her the room. )

[vampireboulevard]

[Caroline leans between the seats again, checking Elena's pulse and it's steady. That at least is something of a relief. But that doesn't really mean anything unless they can get Elena out of here.

She straightens again, to try and examine her further, when Lydia's arm reaches out to land on Caroline's.

"It's too late."

Then, somewhere in the distance, she heard the dry click of a slide being drawn back. Her head turns towards the blaring of the lights, and shouts as she turns to cover Lydia.]

Get down!

[phonetically]

( It's too late. The angle Stiles is at, pressed up against the window makes it impossible for him to miss any of the bullets that now careen into the side of the car, riddling both he and Caroline. It's sudden, at least, Stiles slumping over and then dropping to the seat onto Elena. )

[beanchaointe]

[The bubble pops, and though Caroline's weight hits her from the side, it doesn't stop the scream. No matter how much she tries to hold it back, as though it might hold on to some kind of hope that the moment isn't final, but she can't.

It starts like she's saying Stiles, but eventually the scream fades into just a sound, that carries out of the car and into the dark of the woods.

And when it fades, she turns back towards the back seat, seeing the body of her friend and tears springing to her eyes.]

No. No, no, no ...

overnight placeholder

[phonetically]

( is dead. )