There you stand open heart; open doors
Full of life with the world that's wanting more
"Happy birthday!" Klaus watched from the bar as Caroline assaulted Matt Donovan with streamers, a hug, and a cupcake adorned with a tacky candle that proclaimed his age in colorful wax. The blond quarterback accepted the celebration occurring around him, thanking Caroline before turning his attention to Elena who handed him a present and kissed his cheek.
They laughed, all of them, as the friends they were, but it wasn't enough. From where he sat, he could see Caroline's falter and her eyes fall just a bit as Matt leaned closer to Elena and smiled down at her. It didn't matter if they weren't together, if they were all just friends. Caroline was always being chosen second, last, after Elena. It was always about Elena.
From where he sat, Klaus could see her eyes flicker towards him and for a moment, she met his gaze before beaming and turning back to her friends who didn't deserve her, in his humble opinion.
What Klaus didn't see was Caroline repeating his words, Beautiful, strong, full of light. It was the mantra that had been getting her through the days since her father's death. Since Esther decided she wanted to kill her family. Since Damon slept with Rebekah and Elijah left town and Elena became so 'woe is me'. Since Bonnie's mom was turned into a vampire and Elena couldn't understand why her best friend didn't want to see her. It was always Elena.
Klaus and Caroline realized that things needed to change.
But I can see when the lights start to fade
"What are you doing here?" She stood warily at the front door, prepared to slam it in his face at any moment. It was pointless really, especially since he was the big bad Original hybrid her mother had invited in. He could rip the door off its hinges and be drinking the blood from her heart like a juice box before she could run away. That's how dangerous her was and no matter how many expensive gifts or romantic drawings he gave her, that wasn't going to change.
"I brought you cake," he said, producing the coconut creme cake from behind his back, "I know casserole is customary for grieving families, but I thought you might like cake more. I hope you like coconut." He looked hopeful, baby blues shining and his dimples showing as he gave her a smile. Evil villains should not have dimples. It was unacceptable and made them blend in with the good guys too much.
"Who says I'm grieving?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest and trying to look stronger than she was. She wasn't. She was crumbling to dust with every unnecessary breath and he could see it. A blind man could see it.
"Then it's not a grieving cake," he said, "It's just a cake. Share it with me?" He looked hopeful and her mother was asleep and she didn't want to cause any trouble, but she didn't want to let him into her house even though he could enter at anytime and he just looked so hopeful…
"We eat out here," she said, stepping onto the porch and shutting the door behind her. He didn't object, merely followed her lead and settled on the porch steps a few feet from her with the pie in between them. Caroline didn't care if she looked like a fool, coconut creme pie was her favorite and she could really use the sugar after all the sympathy casseroles. So, not caring what Klaus thought, she broke off a piece of crust and scooped up some filling with her fingers and popped it all into her mouth.
"Technically," she said, licking her fingers, "This is a pie and not a cake." Klaus chuckled and mimicked her eating habits. She didn't mind. She also didn't tell him when he got coconut on his nose.
All I want is to keep you safe from the cold
"Tell me about your father." The pie had long been finished, but Caroline had worked up the energy to head back inside and it seemed Klaus was intent on becoming part of her porch. He was currently sprawled out staring at the stars.
"Dads are off limits," she said, shaking her head and staring at the front lawn. When she was little, her dad had turned on the sprinkler system and she'd run in the water wearing a yellow bathing suit with ruffles. She'd always loved that bathing suit and if she thought about it, it was her dad who'd bought it for her and instilled in her a love of the color yellow. But she didn't think about it because there were some things she just couldn't think about it.
"Are mothers off limits as well?" She turned around, bracing one hand on the deck so she could look at him. His eyes weren't on the stars anymore, instead they were watching her.
"He was a dad, she's a mom," she said, "There's nothing more to it." She turned back to the front lawn and her breath rose into a little plume before her eyes. It was nice, sometimes, not feeling cold. She could spend hours staring at the stars at night without her toes going numb. But it meant there was no use of warm sweaters or scarves. It meant she was dead. She didn't like being a walking corpse.
"My mother used to sing me to sleep," Klaus said and Caroline didn't need to turn around to see he was somewhere in the past. She just knew. "She'd sing me to sleep and kiss my forehead and call me her 'little prince.'" Caroline was rigid for a moment, staring at the front lawn where her dad had arranged a tea party for her one summer after she begged him for a week. The front lawn where they'd built forts and he'd taught her how to dance, or rather, where she'd stood on his feet as he danced them around the yard. She leaned backwards across the deck, mere inches separating her and Klaus. The stars above were like a promise. We'll always be here.
"My dad tortured me," she said, because in the moment, that was the most defining point of her relationship with her father, "He thought there were a cure to being a vampire, so he chain me to a chair and gassed me with vervain. He'd hold a blood bag in front of my face and took my daylight ring so he could let the sun shine on me and burn me. He wanted me to associate human blood with pain. And it hurt, the torture, it really did hurt. But what hurt even more was that he thought I needed to be fixed. He thought there was something wrong with me. Even after he'd been killed and was transitioning, he still thought there was something wrong with me. Something so wrong that he would rather die than be like me forever."
She didn't realize she was crying until Klaus was wiping the tears away. She turned her head to see him watching her, a pained and remorseful expression on his face. It made her cry even more. She must truly be pathetic if even the big bad Original hybrid was taking pity on her.
"I'm sorry," he said, "For insinuating your relationship with your father was not as complex as mine. It was a terrible assumption on my part."
"I wish you'd been right," she sobbed and continued to sob because there was so much she hadn't allowed herself to feel and she just needed to feel, "I wish it was simple. I wish he'd just gone and never come back. I wish he'd tried to kill me instead of fix me. I couldn't be fixed and he didn't see that and it would've been better if he'd just killed me because I wouldn't have to feel any of this."
She sat up, sobs making her useless heart rattle and she swore she'd drown on her own tears at any moment. Her unnecessary breath was ragged and she wanted to die in that moment just to turn everything off. She didn't stop sobbing until Klaus was there, holding her head steady between his hands, hands that had ripped hearts out and severed heads from their bodies. Hands that were now cradling her face and forcing her to look at him.
"I can help you turn it off," he said, "I can make you turn it off." He meant it, she could tell, the way his eyes grew serious and sad and pained all at once. He would compel her to turn her emotions off so she wouldn't have to feel anymore. He would do that, for her, but he… he didn't want to. She could see it in his eyes and the way he wasn't smiling anymore and that made her cry all the more.
"He bought me a yellow bathing suit when I was six," she cried because she had to focus on the unimportant stuff that was becoming the only thing that mattered, "And he bought me a crown and taught me how to dance and called me his princess. But then he left and then he tried to fix me and then he died and I told him not to leave me and I thought, I begged, that he would tell me loved me, but he didn't. He said dying was a human thing and I just wanted him to tell me he loved me and stay with me forever and he didn't. He didn't. He was always leaving and this time he left forever."
Klaus held her as she sobbed into his chest because she needed something sturdy to hold her up and he needed something to hold onto or else he might fade away and die from a broken heart. He'd always wished his father would've tried to fix him. At least he could have been around Mikael instead of running from him. And that's what he'd wanted- to be around his father. He was tired of always having to run. To leave. Just like Bill Forbes had left.
Let me raise you up
Let me be your love
Caroline awoke in her room that was still painted the pale yellow color it had been since she was seven and her dad bought her a pair of yellow corduroys and she'd worn them to school everyday for a week despite how unfashionable that was. She awoke in a room painted yellow in a bed with a comforter that had yellow flowers on it and yellow trim on one of her pillows. She awoke in a yellow room in a yellow bed to find a bright yellow dress laid at the foot of her bed. It wasn't pale yellow and it wasn't a plain dress with yellow flowers. It was bright, obnoxious, canary yellow. It was the color yellow she'd always liked, but her dad never bought her anything that color before.
Caroline awoke in a yellow room in a yellow bed with yellow pillows with a yellow dress. Caroline awoke crying. But then she was smiling. And things didn't hurt quite as much anymore.
All that's made me is all worth trading
Klaus watched Caroline from the edge of the forest as she stood at her father's grave. The funeral had been a small affair she'd refused to attend and while it was customary to wear black when in mourning, she stood before Bill Forbes' grave wearing a canary yellow dress with ringlets in her hair and bright red shoes. And she was smiling.
"I'm going to prove you wrong, daddy," she promised and then looked up, staring at Klaus as he watched her, "I don't need to be fixed." He smiled at her then and turned away, returning her privacy as he thought, That's my girl.
I will let go of all that I know
"Oh look, if it isn't Miss Mystic Falls." Rebekah was bitter, as she'd always been, and she was opting to take out her bitterness on Caroline Forbes since Elena, as the doppleganger, was strictly off limits. It's always Elena.
"Oh look," Caroline said, "If it isn't the insecure Original who has to flirt with boys at high school to feel better about herself." Klaus was there, standing between them and holding Rebekah at bay as his sister attempted to rip out Caroline's throat.
"We are in public, Bekah," he scolded and pushed her backwards. She pouted and huffed before storming away, slamming the door of the grill behind her. Klaus turned to see Caroline, completely unruffled by the situation. The blonde smiled at him and gestured to the bar.
"I recall you inviting me for a drink once," she said, "Does that offer still stand?"
He bought her a drink. And dessert. It wasn't her birthday, but she ordered the birthday special and when it came with candles, she insisted Klaus blow them out.
"We'll pretend it's your birthday today, okay?"
Your love is changing me
"This is pointless," he argued.
"This is fun," she countered, "And it benefits the community. If you want to hang around in Mystic Falls and win everyone to your side, participating in community events is important."
The current community event they were participating in was painting a newly erected gazebo in the town square after a windstorm tore down the older one. Klaus' paintbrush was covered in white and Caroline's was covered in a pale yellow she'd convinced Mrs. Lockwood- who had donated the gazebo- would be the perfect trim color.
"Painting will win everyone to my side?" he clarified, giving her a pointed look. Her hand darted out and she painted the side of his face yellow and laughed as he tried to wipe it off.
"Maybe not everyone," she said.
May I hold you as you fall to sleep
Caroline wasn't expecting anyone to use the gazebo the first night after it was painted. Something about fumes and wet paint and all that. Really though, she'd wanted to be the first to enjoy it and yet, someone was already standing on the railing, their torso disappearing into the covered roof.
"Excuse me," she called, stepping up the stairs and entering the gazebo, "What are you-" She trailed off as her eyes looked up to see Klaus painting the roof of the gazebo.
"What are you doing?" she asked, "Get down. This is not the Sistine Chapel and you are not Michelangelo." Klaus laughed and complied, dropping to ground and smiling at her.
"You're right," he said, "I'm not, but he was a magnificent artist and a great drinking buddy and the Sistine is worth seeing. I'll take you, if you'd like." She tried to ignore the fact he'd gone drinking with Michelangelo- who else did he know?- and tried to ignore the fact he was offering to take her to some beautiful, far off place again. A smarter girl would've said yes by now.
"You didn't answer my question," she said instead of asking questions like, Who else did you know and will you really take me to Rome, Paris, and Tokyo?
"Look up," came his easy response and Caroline's head dutifully tilted to the ceiling where she was a mass array of…
"You painted stars." Bright, canary yellow stars arranged into constellations she knew and others she would be happy to name if he'd let her. She flinched as something cold hit her cheek and she raised her hand to swipe at it. Paint. She looked at Klaus and saw his finger was smeared with yellow paint. She wanted to get mad and yell and complain about how he had ruined her makeup, but she couldn't. He looked too hopeful and she was too afraid to ask what he was hoping for.
"Could you teach me how to paint?" she asked. His eyes lit up. She found she didn't really care about much else so long as he kept smiling like that.
May I love you; may I be your shield
"You're warm," she said sometime later when the ceiling of the gazebo was efficiently covered in canary yellow stars. Somehow the floor of the gazebo was deemed comfortable enough to lay on as they went about stargazing and somehow Caroline had decided Klaus' shoulder was an efficient pillow.
"How are you warm?" She couldn't help but burrow her head into his shoulder because he was warm and she was tired and she was going to leave it at that.
"Werewolf thing," he said, "We always run hot." She shook her head, blonde hair falling across his neck and he picked up a strand or two, running them through his fingers before dropping them.
"Tyler wasn't like this," she said, ignoring the way he subtly stiffened beside her, "He was always too hot. You're jut warm." She turned away from him and looked up at the stars they'd created, head resting against wood as she picked out the constellations she knew and named a few others.
"What about that one?" she asked, pointing to a cluster of stars that looked like a crown, "What should we call that one?" Klaus followed her finger and when she was sure he was looking at the right grouping of stars, she dropped her hand.
"I was thinking we could call it Caroline," he said. Her head tilted to the side so she could look at him and she wanted to yell at him and say he was the bad guy and lecture on how bad guys weren't supposed to say things like that. But she couldn't, because he looked so hopeful and while she didn't know what he was hoping for, she knew she looked just as hopeful as well.
"I thought you'd want the crown to be named after you," she said and he smiled, that small, easy smile that showed his dimples and made his eyes light up.
"I'm starting to realize I'm not always the victor." Her hand found his. They continued to look at the stars.
He'd take her to the Sistine Chapel one day. She would hold his hand. Together, they'd prove her father wrong.
They didn't need to be fixed.
When no one is around, may I lay you down
[song fic inspired by "May I" by Trading Yesterday