A/N: So, until their moment in the latest episode, Klaroline has been nothing more than a crazy shipper dream for me. Now that it's canon? Oh sweet Jesus let the fics begin. Lyrics are from Hilary Duff (my guilty pleasure). The song is called Cry (obviously).
.:.
Cry love, cry war, cry innocence that is lost forever more.
.:.
He was created at the beginning of time. He is literally thousands of years old—with a couple of hundred on the side. He's seen everything that there is to be seen and done everything that there is to be done. He's tortured people to the most sadistic end. Murdered people using simple terror. Seen the corpses of people who have elected to take their own lives, instead of face the fear they know he will bring.
She is young. Created to be nothing more than a tool in someone else's game, that's all she ever thinks she'll be. A small person in a game played by stronger people. She's surrounded by them—the witch, the saviour, the fighter and the martyr. She helps them because it's all she can do. Where else does she fit in? Not with the human who can't stop seeing her as a monster. Not with the hybrid who would serve a master blindly than be by her side. Not with the father that would have her brainwashed and burned. And not with the mother who can't even bring herself to look her in the eye.
There is no metaphor in the known universe that can fully show how young Caroline appeared to Klaus. Maybe there were some to show how old he was to her: like the oldest tree in the forest to a sapling. Like a hatchling turtle following the path of it's one hundred and fifty year old grandmother. Like the feeling a young man gets when he steps into a castle he knows held battles over thousands of years ago. But there is nothing for how young she appears.
.:.
When she meets him for the first time. Really, really meets him. The first time he actually speaks to her and bothers to learn her name, it's with a smirk on his face. She knows he's the bad guy. All kinds of bad, she reminds herself. Maybe even evil—(but she doesn't really believe in evil, so that just pulls up a load of new questions).
There's something in his eyes. There's no kindness there and no sympathy.
But at the same time, there is no pity. For a moment, she revels in the idea of someone looking at her without that expression. Elena, every time she decides that Caroline's being shallow. Bonnie, every time she decides that Caroline's being stupid. Tyler when he decides that she's actually no fun. Matt when he decides that she has too much fun.
All there is, in those depthless eyes that have seen so much, is a careless indifference.
And it's pure bliss.
"Well, you're a bit different, aren't you love?"
The accent takes her off guard. She hadn't expected him to sound so absolutely suave while being the most terrifying villain she's ever had to face. And by face—it's just the moment that Damon had run off to find Stefan and Elena, and she's left here with Alaric, staring down at the oldest vampire in the world and thinking that maybe if he kills her slowly, it'll give Alaric time to run.
"Run, Caroline!" Alaric shouts, apparently having had the same idea.
Klaus knocks him unconscious with a flick of the wrist.
"What's your name?"
She squares her shoulders and juts out her jaw (in the way that she's practised in the mirror a couple of times so she knows she looks fine). "Caroline Forbes."
Klaus just grins.
.:.
She spends the next day with Bonnie. It's one of those days that Bonnie hates the world because Elena is more interested spending time with Damon even though Caroline could tell that Damon and Elena were always the endgame.
But still, Elena is a bit busy dealing with Damon. Stefan's still on his 'revenge' kick and Tyler is happy running around without any freewill. As far as she can tell, even Jeremy's been sent away in some bizarre plan of Elena's. And Matt is never anywhere.
So Caroline doesn't mind sitting through Bonnie's complaints. Her mother (Bonnie's mother, that is) is coming back to town sometime soon and Bonnie doesn't know whether or not to tell her that she is a witch and everything that that entails. I mean, Bonnie reasons, surely Sheila (Grams, Bonnie calls her) had told her mother (Bonnie's mother) that they were witches. Surely, she knew right?
When she asks, Caroline had to really focus to recall what it is. "Oh no," she coos as though she had been paying the closest attention. "I'm sure you're mother will understand anything you tell her. I always liked your mum."
She didn't. Not that she hated Bonnie's mother. She just hadn't seen the woman since she was four. She couldn't remember anything more than a strange indifference to her.
Whatever.
She's certainly not telling Bonnie that.
.:.
The next time she sees him, she's been crying and no makeup can cover it up.
He leans against one of the headstone and watches casually as she sobs, her back resting against Jenna's gravestone. She feels a little guilty—as though she shouldn't be allowed to mourn for Jenna because she wasn't her aunt, or her girlfriend. In fact, she didn't even really know Jenna. She didn't know her middle name or her favourite colour and yet she died for her—if she hadn't been vamped, then Caroline would have been killed.
It just makes Caroline cry harder.
Until she noticed that he was there. Watching.
She notes his casual stance—one leg casually cross against the other at the ankle, arms cross across his chest as though he trying to keep warm, and his blonde hair, curling at his neck and shining in the moonlight, so it looks almost soft.
She stops herself crying instantly.
"Do you feel guilty?"
His question breaks the silence that she created by ceasing her sobs. She knows the right answer immediately. Yes.
Yes.
If anyone else had asked, she knows what she would have said.
Yes.
Yes she feels guilty. Because Jenna took her place and no one deserves that and even though it wasn't her fault at all, she wouldn't be human if she didn't feel at least a little guilty.
But it's not anyone else asking.
It's him.
And no one knows better than him that she's not human.
Sure, if could be made to look like her fault—but not really. If it's her fault then it's Damon's fault as well—he saved them, didn't he? And it's Elena's fault because she was so adamant that no one die but her. But it's not her fault. She sits by the grave because she feels sad. She feels horrible that Jenna died and because she didn't care enough about her to find out her favourite colour.
But not guilt.
So she says so.
"No." She says evenly, keeping her eyes trained cautiously on him. "But you should."
Because if anyone should feel guilty, it's him. He's the one that killed her. He's the one responsible for her death. He's the one who's hand committed the crime. She wonders if he thinks about what her favourite colour was.
She pushed the thought away before she looks at him again. Sure enough, there is just a smirk on his face.
"They're going to figure it out eventually, you know." He tells her.
She nods. She knows. Some of them already have. She can tell from the way that Damon treats her—keeps her down, calling her names and making sure she knows that there is every line for her to cross and if she does, she'd done for. It's why Stefan spent so long trying to save her. Trying to keep her sane and on the vegetarian diet. Because they know how she feels and how her emotions function, and in someone whose emotions were as hidden on her sleeve as Caroline's, they know how dangerous that is.
"It won't be the same." He continues.
She wants to snap at him that obviously things won't be the same because she's a goddamn vampire, and the Original vampire had just decided to show up and throw his stone in when everything was finally getting sorted. But she doesn't. He's powerful, and she's barely a match against Damon—and that's only when her Dad's life is in danger and Damon is feeling a little pushover-y because no matter what he was saying, he was trying to win over Elena with his brother out of the picture.
So she just shrugs and nods. "I know." She sighs.
He looks at her closely. "You're doing well then."
.:.
He gives her a couple of days to ponder his last little sentence. That little beauty of confusion and bewilderment wrapped up into one awesome parcel of stupidity.
Oh, god, she hates him.
.:.
She paints her nails blue. It's an odd shade but it's the sort of alternative thing no one would expect her to do.
No one notices.
.:.
She spends the next couple of months organizing another school fundraiser—a day of charitable activities done by all the seniors, topped off by a themed school dance with an entrance fee of four dollars. The funds raised will be going to the starving children in Africa. As she does the work, she begins to think. Are there vampires in Africa? Surely, there have to be.
Are they as starved as the rest of Africa's inhabitants? Because, the humans must be sick and malnourished and wouldn't that mean that the vampires are too? Or would they just leave? Come to America or go to England and eat substantial stuff.
When she asks Bonnie, the witch looks at her like she's just told her she's going to go and kill puppies and kittens and then throw their bodies into a meat grinder.
"Oh, my god, Caroline, what's wrong with you?"
For a minute, Caroline doesn't even understand what's happened. Instead, she's hit with the hurt that Damon had lied about being able to turn off, and she bows her head. Not because she's embarrassed by the question (it was perfectly reasonable, wasn't it?) but because she doesn't want Bonnie to see just how weak she is.
Only later does she try and figure out why she thinks of Bonnie as the enemy.
.:.
Bonnie's mum comes by to visit her mum. Caroline is at home, curled up on the couch and watching the television and trying to not focus on the awkward silence between herself and her mother when the door knocks and she steps inside.
Instantly, Caroline knows that Bonnie has told her everything.
And even if she'd left the witch life behind as Bonnie had guessed (hey, it's not like Bonnie was telling Caroline anymore. Elena was back from her full on Damon time and ready to be her best friend again), Caroline knows she knows.
She pushes the blanket off herself and stands to her feet.
Vanishing to her room it takes her mere seconds to fix her make up again, and slip on the perfect pair of heels to go with her outfit. She's outside again in a moment, before her mother or Bonnie's have left the doorway. Caroline stops for a moment, and smiles. Greeting her with a light smile ("Mrs Bennet!" because she can't remember her first name) she smirks slightly as she pulls away from the hug.
She knows from the touch that Bonnie always goes on about that now there is no way for Mrs Bennet to not know exactly what she is.
Caroline takes a step back, before turning to her mum. "I'm going to see Elena, 'kay Mum?"
Liz merely nods before she's out the door.
It's only when Caroline walks through the door to the grill and sees her reflection in the shiny mirror behind the bar that she realises what she looks like. Dark eye shadow, heavy eyeliner and loads of mascara—pale pink coloured lips and a black ensemble.
She'd subconsciously made herself threatening.
Staring at that version of herself in the mirror, Caroline smirks.
.:.
Later that night, Caroline finds a slip of paper on her pillow.
You're doing better, love
She rips it up and throws it in the bin.
.:.
Tyler bites her and its every bit a stab in the back.
Even if it feels like she's being stabbed all over.
.:.
"Happy birthday."
He offers her his wrist.
.:.
Elena comes over to get ready before the big dance. Way back before everything (before her parent's dying and Stefan saving her and their whole supernatural romance) Elena was a huge fun to be around before parties. Now, she's just sort of quiet, and always talking about Damon and Stefan and their eternal dramas. How had she ever endured it?
Caroline thinks about telling her about Klaus. About their conversations and how he actually seems to like her some of the time and about how that idea doesn't even worry her.
She quickly puts the thought out of her head.
No. Whatever it is that Klaus is doing, she can handle. She'd not some barbie that needs a Ken to save her—and she's certainly not going to let another barbie tell her Kens to do it, because she doesn't have any.
Klaus is her problem.
.:.
The theme of the dance is period. Again.
Like they haven't done that enough.
Only this time, it's the eighties, and she's wearing gogo boots that she bought online and a cute little gogo dress that hugs her in all the right places. She's done her hair up so that she looks every bit the part, and her makeup is immaculate.
She's going without a date tonight, though, and she makes sure to tell everyone that that doesn't bother her, only so they know how much it does.
.:.
She's dancing with some boy from her calculus class when she feels him behind her. Frowning slightly, she lets herself be pulled swiftly from her partner's arms and into his arms and then their dancing slowly around, blending in perfectly with the rest of the high schoolers.
Even then...
"What are you doing?" she hisses instantly.
He smirks his smirk at her.
"Hush, luv," he tells her. "We're dancing."
She huffs, and stomps her foot slightly (a move that she regrets because now he's chuckling and oh how she wishes she could just hit him. Just once.)
He sobers up. "Don't do it, Caroline." He warns her. "Don't forget who I am, just because I'm being so... agreeable."
She decides he's right. He is an Original, after all. Actually—he's the original. She should probably do well to remember that.
"You know," he continues, strangely casual as he swings her around the gym floor. "I'm beginning to admire your friends. I'm even a bit glad that I waited to kill them off."
Caroline blinks, and then furrows her brow in confusion. She doesn't have to ask for him to go on.
He tells her more. That ever since Stefan had taken his family he'd been planning on devising the perfect ruin for every one of their gang. But nothing he could have done can beat what they have done to her.
Well, he reconsiders. He probably could have equalled it. Look at who he is, after all.
She pauses in the dance for a moment and she can see in his eyes that he's interested to know what she'll say to him.
"I hope you never find your family."
.:.
She expected a fight. Maybe she even expected him to kill her.
Instead, he grins.
"That's my girl."
.:.
She waits for the dance to finish, subtly maps out exactly where everyone is in the building—the one who would care that she is dancing with Klaus—and then leads him in the opposite direction. When they're out of the gymnasium, she turns to face him.
"What is this?" she demands, and continues without a breath. "One of your stupid games? Because I can tell you I am so not interested. If you're going to kill me, than do it, but you better not be expecting me to beg or cry because I'm done. I'm done crying about the stupid things—and I know that if you want to, you will. And another thing. Buddy, I am so not your girl."
He kisses her.
.:.
Well.
She wasn't expecting that.
.:.
It takes a few seconds but then she's kissing him back. He's erupted a thirst in her belly that's far worse that the thirst for blood. It's the thirst for more than that. The hunger for a connection, combined with the fact that this is so dangerous and, well, he's just a little bit super hot.
And, if Elena can love Damon instead of Stefan, then Caroline can sure as hell kiss Klaus.
And, she decides, if the thousand years on this earth have taught him anything, it's how to kiss. Within seconds, he's got her pressed against the cement wall so hard she can smell the dust that the pressure on the material is creating. They're grinding away at the substance and the evidence is floating around in the air with them.
There's a bang and when they pull apart, Caroline realises with a jolt that the person who has witnessed this—him—her—this—is Tyler, and he's staring at the two of them like it some sort of horrible joke.
Caroline feels guilty.
Klaus looks at him.
"Go back inside, Tyler," he orders swiftly. "And don't tell anyone what you've seen here tonight."
Tyler stares at them for a few more seconds and for a swift second, Caroline thinks he's going to refuse. To tell everyone that she was just making out with their enemy—the one she dumped him for listening to.
Then he smiles. "Okay." And he turns around and vanishes back into the dance.
The guilt vanishes with him.
.:.
The next few days are interesting. She spends the first thinking about it. What did he mean by 'his girl'? Did that mean exactly what she thought it did? And what about the note? The one that told her she was doing well—the one that he had clearly written for her?
What was she doing well?
She spends the next day thinking about Tyler. Would he tell? Klaus had left him to remember the event—but told him not to tell anyone. It wasn't a compulsion, just advisement—but it got him to do a lot, didn't it? It got him to wane Jeremy off the vervain. It got him to bite her, didn't it?
The next day she spends with him—in a house that's empty—looking for new tenants—but furnished for viewings.
Well, maybe not in the house. In the bed, would be more accurate.
Again, it dangerous and he's hot—and he's just so damn good that she can't stop and think about it. She wants him.
.:.
It's that afternoon—the afternoon after the morning of mind-blowing sex and nothing else—that she realises what she's done. She's standing in the front yard of the house, and she's figured it out.
She's literally slept with the enemy. She's betraying everyone who'd ever looked after her and claimed to love her for a monster who thought she was something to be possessed. A monster who she was sure was playing a game with her—one that she had yet to figure out.
Oh god. What has she done? She's a traitor? And she's an idiot. She's disgusting. No wonder everyone wanted someone else. No wonder Elena and Bonnie preferred each other to her. No wonder her mother couldn't look at her and her father would rather see her dead.
"Uhm, excuse me, Miss?"
In the instant it takes for Caroline to spin around and murder the person who's addressed her, it clicks.
The body falls lifelessly to the ground as Caroline turns and spins and looks up at the eyes she knows are watching her from the window.
He wasn't playing a game with her.
He was moulding her.
.:.
Here you are, and so am I.
And we cry.
.:.
A/N: So I've never submitted anything in present tense. Nor from Caroline's perspective. Maybe a little from Klaus's, but nothing like this. If it's crap, let me know. If not, I'm happy to continue it (but only if I get the response I'm looking for, and only maybe one or two more chapters.) Lyrics to Hilary Duff.
xx