She ascended the face of the cliff without any gear, taking hold of craggy rocks and exposed tree roots with her bare hands. When she reached the pinnacle, she took a moment to behold the scene before her. The waterfall, the lake below, the untouched bit of the world seeming as picturesque as a postcard. Caroline Forbes drew a deep, calming breath through her nostrils. It's just a precaution, she told herself. You're just checking. You'll just make sure. And when you find stony Silas still trapped in his watery grave, you'll know.

The doubt had crept in slowly. It seeped in through the seams little by little until Caroline was swimming in it. It wasn't one thing; it was a culmination of tiny moments, a feeling of being in a waking dream, something just shy of reality. Like something was missing. Like Stefan was missing.

Three months ago, Caroline walked into the Salvatore Boarding House, snatched a bottle of honey-colored whiskey from a cabinet, uncorked it with her teeth, and took a generous swig. She plopped down on an overstuffed sofa next to Stefan and extended the bottle to him. And for the smallest moment, a span of time so short it almost didn't register, he simply stared back at her, bewildered. It was nearly immeasurable, the bit of time it took him to be Stefan-like, to do all the appropriate Stefan things: take the bottle and drink, commiserate while passing it back and forth, let her talk too long about the still-absent Tyler, and reassure her it would all be all right in the end. He was like an engine that didn't turn over on the first try. Caroline noticed, but she reminded herself she wasn't the only one enduring a little heartbreak. He had been off since Elena made her choice. It wasn't so strange.

A week later, she tried to make him smile. She told him he was wearing his "hey, it's Tuesday" face.

"It's Friday," he answered.

Since then, dozens of little things – the worst of these a flashing instance she looked up to find him staring at her. She could have sworn the expression on his face was an immaculate rage, an undiluted hatred that took her breath away. It disappeared in the blink of an eye, transitioning unnaturally into a warm smile. But the image of his face twisted in anger - anger inexplicably directed toward her - bore into her mind.

There were other moments he seemed to not know the right thing to do or say, time he seemed to be looking up the answer in an invisible book. Like Silas had those times he waltzed into their lives, wearing someone else's skin and seeming just so slightly off.

But Silas was gone. Or as gone as something with that level of immortality could be, hidden away and unreachable beneath the water.

Damon shrugged off Caroline's concerns. So did Elena. Both were under the impression that Stefan not being his normal self was not any cause for alarm under the circumstances. They were uncomfortable when she brought it up, like she was intentionally trying to guilt them by forcing them to think of the brother brushed aside.

So Caroline ignored it, too. She told herself she was inventing a distraction to avoid thinking about Tyler, who had been free of Klaus' mandate for months and still hadn't returned to Mystic Falls.

But the feeling gnawed away at her until she couldn't take another day of uncertainty. She'd just check. And when she found Silas right where Stefan left him, she'd have her peace of mind, and no one needed to know that the neurotic, compulsive Caroline had temporarily taken the helm.

Or she'd find an empty safe with Silas somewhere on the loose and Stefan God knew where.

You're just checking, she reminded herself again, and she leapt from the precipice. She plunged beneath the water and kicked her way up to the top. The waterfall roared in her ears, stirring the water and emitting a cloud of fine mist all around her. She dove below the surface and squinted through the muddy water and the flood of bubbles roiling under the falls. Finally, her eyes adjusted, and she made out a black rectangular box, tilted slightly and buried a foot deep in the sediment of the lake floor.

She swam toward it and inspected the safe. Closed and in tact. So far, this was shaping up to be an entirely unnecessary journey. She pressed her ear against the door and began to turn the knob slowly, stopping and reversing at the "click" her ears picked up, thinking briefly that vampire hearing would make her an excellent bank robber. Three stops, and the handle was free to push down. She yanked the door hard, and it loosed a cloud of murky dirt through the water. As it settled, she saw inside the safe - a face, grey and cracking. Silas in all his stony glory.

When the eyes of the face opened, Caroline let a silent scream escape her mouth with a stream of bubbles that floated upward. The still, grey figure before her wasn't Silas. It was Stefan.