A/N: So... this is a weird one. It was actually inspired by a dream I had concerning a fandom I was a part of in... well... 2002. So, quite some time ago, and the fandom is long dead since the creator abandoned her work. So I made some modifications and decided to attempt a Vampire Diaries sci-fi. This is the result. Call it an exercise in something unusual. I didn't see much in the way of sci-fi for this fandom, so I can only assume there isn't much interest in it. Regardless, this is my contribution. I sort of had a mix of Star Trek, Ender's Game, and Megami Kouhosei in mind while writing this, if that helps explain anything that I fail to in writing.
I don't plan for this to have more to it, but that could change depending on the level of interest. I have far too many projects to work on to dedicate my time to something that hardly has traction, much as I love this fandom. I recognize how unfinished it is, but it really is more an exercise than anything, plus I am admittedly curious if any sort of futuristic sci-fi AU fanfic would be well-received in this fandom. If not, it will remain an exercise piece. If so, I'll work on it, though it will take a back seat to ItSOCC and CK.
Either way, I had a blast writing it, and I hope reading it is nothing if not intriguing for you guys. It was definitely a concept that plagued me until I put it to paper, and it feels good to get that demon to rest a little.
Critiques, as always, are welcome with open arms.
Pain wrenched through her body, ripping her from a dark oblivion. She registered the agony before bloody hues of the sky filtered through the jagged crevice above her. The ground beneath her was hard and damp, yet blessedly cool pressed harshly against her screaming injuries.
Corporal Caroline Forbes was amazed to find herself breathing.
She inhaled slowly and deeply, focusing on where the pain most radiated. Her ribs were sore but didn't seem cracked or broken. Her vision was fine, though the impending darkness struck her with unease. Slowly she forced herself to sit up, biting back a groan as she did so. From there she shifted her appendages, taking grim note of her bloodied clothes, swollen left wrist, throbbing shoulder, and splitting headache.
But at the very least, she was alive—and mobile.
Caroline used the rapidly dimming light to survey her surroundings quickly. She appeared to have fallen into some sort of cave, where the only light came from the scarlet sun trickling mockingly through the cluster of trees that must have broken her fall. And, it seemed, the failed parachute still seemed to have saved her life. It remained visibly dangling from the outside foliage, battered and torn as she was, yet boasting of how it, too, had softened her landing from fatal to injurious.
There was also a man she didn't recognize three feet away from her. Setting her jaw, Caroline made her way over to him as softly as she could on her hands and knees, biting her tongue each time agony shot daggers up her arm and to her neck. First she checked for breath and a pulse, both of which he had.
Strange, though. He wore civilian clothing, but from Earth. And he was visibly human, not at all the grotesque image of her enemies. Caroline had no clue how he had gotten there, but since he was breathing and helpless she set to tending his wounds. One leg was visibly broken, and the other sported an ankle the size of a cantaloupe. Cuts and abrasions decorated his face, though he wasn't bleeding profusely. Unfortunately Caroline had little in the way of medical aid given her—and apparently his—confusing accident.
No matter. If he had the will, he would live.
For the time being she shifted his swollen ankle into a small freezing puddle. His pants were torn enough to set the other leg. Her splints were a poor imitation, given all she had were spare suspension lines and her harness. The fact she had any of her equipment left on her body was a testament to the strange life on this planet. Whatever those "trees" were made of, they had snipped through her heavy-duty parachute like sewing scissors through rice paper.
There was still light when he finally opened his eyes.
Caroline sat as comfortably as she could beside him, studying his passive expression as he took in the situation. A long, low hiss escaped when he shifted, as though his injuries had finally woken as well.
"Keep quiet," she murmured.
He turned his head. The first flickers of emotion lit his eyes then; amusement and a tinge of dark curiosity.
"Once it's night we'll get moving," she continued in low tones. "I don't know how we'll get out, but it should be safer in the dark."
The man nodded once. His eyes were indiscernible in both color and thoughts in the dimming daylight.
"What's your name?" she asked.
The corner of his mouth curled self-deprecatingly. "Does it matter?" An accent danced in his voice, lifting his O's and pressing down on his R's.
With a cool shrug, she answered. "Not really."
"It's rude, you know. To ask for a name without giving yours first."
Oh, lovely. He was one of those, the type to act a complete prick in the face of precarious situations. Caroline rolled her eyes. Yet she obliged. "Corporal Forbes."
"Ahh."
They lapsed into silence. Caroline kept her senses open, waiting for any unusual sounds, sights, or smells. Soon enough they'd have to move. Then, she thought with an inward smirk, he was really in for a surprise.
Darkness began to creep in, but she didn't find it any harder to see. If anything her vision sharpened, adjusting with inhuman speed to her new surroundings. Nighttime really did transform everything, even with nocturnal vision.
"You're quite striking, you know."
She shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. "Noted."
This time his smile came in full, though it was just as mocking. "I mean it. It's always surprising to find such lovely women in the Marines."
"You're not in the military." Her voice flattened. It wasn't a question.
"No," he agreed. "But my opinion remains."
"Why, you're choosing now to get into my pants?"
His smile vanished. His lips were full, his eyes intense. "Are you opposed?"
Caroline wished she could say she was surprised. As a woman in a man-dominated military, this was nothing new. Even wartime failed to diminish the human race's broad capacity for sex under a wide variety of circumstances.
If she were to be strictly honest, she wasn't completely against the idea. However….
"I'm impressed you can think about sex when both your legs are so messed up."
He continued to keep his tone quiet. Civilian or not, he was on the same foreign planet as her and they were glaringly aware of what dangers befell them should they be discovered. "I'm willing to let you set the pace."
Caroline couldn't help but smile at his brazenness. "Even if I was willing… why?"
The man surveyed her up and down, though in the glimmers of dusk he couldn't have possibly made out much more than a silhouette. "Odds aren't in our favor for survival. And, if I'm to be honest for once in my life, I prefer to go out with a pleasant memory in an otherwise depressing existence."
Caroline jolted a bit. She'd been prepared for all assortments of answers, but his blasé forthcoming had taken her by surprise. Stupid, she told herself. Her very training kept her expecting the unexpected, particularly on an alien planet.
Then again, she was always more surprised by her fellow man than the enemy.
Perhaps for that very reason, she began to remove her tracksuit, unzipping it from the front down past her navel. She wore nothing underneath, not even a bra. There was no need in the suit, as it was designed with women in particular in mind to keep their breasts from painfully jiggling when running or in highly tumultuous impact scenarios. And anything else was just silly and superfluous. She slid her suit down, not bothering to remove her boots. She'd need them if they had to make a quick escape.
Caroline wasn't worried. Even now, as excitement began to course through her, alertness sharpened her mind outward. She was, after all, inhuman—no, superhuman, she reminded herself. And if this man had a death wish, well, she'd do what she could, but Caroline wasn't about to deter a civilian who didn't even belong here from jumping into the open flames of death.
She knelt beside him, softly warning him to leave her left side alone. He implicitly agreed, remaining prone on his back even as his breath quickened a notch. Caroline quickly found his jeans, leaving little time for foreplay. He didn't need it—he was already hard and eager.
Men. Seriously.
Still she straddled him, unbuttoning his fly and pulling out his rigid cock. Perhaps it was the impulsiveness of the situation, the danger threatening to suffocate them in unknown territory, or just the simple fact it had been months since her last sexual escapade, but Caroline found she was wet enough to be ready. She rubbed his tip against her, sucking in a soft breath as he sighed his appreciation.
But then, to her surprise, his hand shot out to stop her, pushing his cock away from her entrance. Caroline opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but the man silenced her by sliding his fingers inside. He cupped her firmly, beginning to tap a probing rhythm while his thumb brushed at her clit.
Despite his injuries, he visibly enjoyed himself. Though he couldn't have seen much of her, Caroline saw his eyes were fixated on her form, his lips parted as he sought to bring her pleasure. And she wasn't one to give an inept man a pity moan—which made her gasps that much more meaningful.
If they survived beyond this, she would ensure he knew that.
Caroline couldn't help but enjoy herself, the stifled panting of their passion quiet yet contrastingly rising in pitch as they continued. Trickles of cold water through their dank cave easily muffled their gasps, yet his intake in particular hit her ears in a primal cadence.
Their quiescence seemed to intensify the moment, and soon she felt herself orgasm. Heat emanated from his body as he recognized what happened, and she could have sworn he was staring straight into her eyes, his own gaze burning, frothing as though his oceanic eyes mimicked Poseidon boiled the sea. The way he almost seemed to look at her sent chills through her that hardened her nipples. He reached up with his more injured arm, cupping one of her breasts and letting out a louder sigh that bordered on a groan. He was content to play with her nub with his fingers, and his gentle worship of her body set her off again. Illicit sex was always fun, but this was so much different than the backseat of a car outside her high school at night, or making love in the park just yards away from a bonfire. Caroline welcomed her second orgasm, both stunned and delighted by her body's rapid response.
But she was still alert, and a dreadful sound made her freeze. She quickly climbed off the man, zipping up her suit and taking a knee before him to re-zip his fly. The slick proof of their passion covered his and her fingers. She hardly thought of it but to lick them both clean.
The man sighed again, this time in resignation, and muttered, "That could have been so erotic. Such a waste."
"Shut up." There was no malice in her voice as she scooted closer to his head. Then, without waiting to explain, she propped him up and slung his least injured arm around her neck before standing. She stole a quick glance at his surprised—and oddly enough, still amused—expression before she gingerly swept his legs from under him and picked him up as though he were a child. The man hissed in pain. "Sorry. It's gonna hurt. Try to keep quiet."
And with that they fled. The cave was not finite; at least not in a way that was immediately noticeable. The water had to come from and go somewhere, and the floor of the cave seemed to slope steadily down. The deeper they went the less light there was, until even her nocturnal vision made navigating the area difficult. Silently cursing, Caroline paused to get another good look before she chose a nook. She laid the man down, sliding him in feet first. He grimaced and occasionally grunted, but protested very little. For a civilian, he was apparently well-trained. That or simply used to excruciating pain.
Either way, it was immensely helpful.
Caroline didn't stop until she could feel he was a good distance inside the nook. The opening was low, well below her knee when she stood, and wide enough for one grown man to fit somewhat comfortably.
"Pinches my feet," he muttered.
Well, it was close enough to comfort.
"Don't move. Don't breathe if you can help it," she warned in a fierce hiss. "They can't smell worth a pretty damn, so just keep quiet. I'll come back for you."
"Sure thing, sweetheart."
In any other situation she might have stomped on his foot for calling her in such a patronizing manner. Instead all Caroline could do was hope she was right and they both lived long enough for some light to filter back in.
In the meantime, she needed her own hiding place.
Caroline felt along the walls, daring to crawl in hopes of a crevice similar to the one she had shoved the strange man into. It was much further from him than she liked—after all, how long would it be until she saw another human again, if they both survived?—but she couldn't afford to be picky. Wriggling into the hole meant her life, so she took it.
Her space was roomier than the man's, but also a bit lower. Good thing she was slim and relatively small-breasted. The tracksuit kept her comfortably cushioned even as it was thin enough to be little more than a layer of dermis. The very same material had left her with much fewer injuries than her new companion. Earth could say what they wanted about the cold-heartedness of the Marines, but cold hearts wove some damn fine survival fabric.
The skittering of many feet—if they could be called that—continued to draw nearer. Caroline made herself as flat as possible, pretending she was one with the strange stone that encased her in her time of need. For a moment she could have sworn many of them paused a ways down, closer to the stranger, but then they were active again, all forty of the individual feet. She kept her eyes open despite being unable to see anything but vague motions of black against obsidian at this point.
Then they skittered past her, the legs against stone akin to nails tapping with light scratches against metal and chalkboards. Caroline kept her breathing even, though the neurotic part of her wanted to screech and beat the annoying bastards to a bloody pulp.
She could have. And would have. But for the fact she was weaponless. And outnumbered.
And these abominations had taken a serious liking to the taste of raw, sanguine human flesh.
The alien creatures were quick, yet it felt like forever before Caroline deemed it safe to move. She had to be certain they weren't going to circle round back the way they'd come—at the same time, if that was their intention, waiting too long could put her in a position to find out on far more abrupt terms than she liked.
So really, it was pure instinct and a lot of luck that guided her out into damp stillness again. There was still very little light, but her eyes were well adjusted at this point. Lying in wait had other advantages, such as getting used to new environments.
Caroline crept back toward the unnamed man. She knew her footfalls were quiet, yet in the vast dank void each nudge of her toe echoed in her ears. So her hearing was sharpened—yet she didn't hear what she expected, such as the shallow, ragged breaths of an injured human. He had to be uncomfortable by now.
Unless, of course, he was dead.
Caroline closed her eyes briefly. No. That was a possibility, but not likely. Soldier casualties were to be expected, and yet… this man was undoubtedly a civilian. Some poor, stupid sap who had somehow snuck along for a joyride.
Plus, even with her hardened core it made her shudder to think that if he was dead, she had been intimate with him not too long ago. It was hard to shake the image of his deft fingers with corpse-like coldness after that.
She finally did find him, and when Caroline knelt on the ground, she couldn't hear his breathing. Cursing in her head, she reached in and began to pull him out. His body was cold—
—but not that cold, she realized. She bit back a sigh of relief when he stirred, apparently woken by her touch. The man blinked sightlessly in the dark.
"Appreciate you coming back for me," he wheezed.
"You sound like crap," she replied.
He scoffed, but she caught the dim curve of a smirk on his lips.
Caroline almost smiled back but caught herself. She straightened up, keeping her voice quiet but firm as she spoke. "Look, they could be back any minute. I'm going to have to carry you again. You have to keep quiet."
"Oh, sure," he said. Caroline was unsure if he was mocking her or not. "Swaying in your gentle embrace should lull me right to sleep."
"I could leave you," she said darkly.
His smile was dazzling. "But you won't. Will you, sweetheart?"
God, she'd let this man touch her? Apparently a nice, short nap had awoken the prick in him. Caroline heaved a long-suffering sigh before sweeping him off his feet and cradling the man in her arms again. This time she wasn't gentle, and his muffled grunt said he knew it.
Without a word she pressed back toward where they had come to earlier. It was no safer than going the way of their enemy, but she had no idea if they were to circle back or not. This was unfamiliar territory with a vicious species. She had to rely on her gut now that military tactic was only going to serve her so well, and her gut said to try going in the opposite direction.
Soon they came upon the area they had crash-landed, and just as soon they were past it. There was nothing left. Any scraps that had been left in their wake appeared to have been—cleaned? Stolen?—by the aliens. The crevice that opened up like a lazy yawn to the sky revealed little; the sky had clouded over in their absence in dusky purple hues, hazily covering what looked to be an enormous moon. The planet had two, Caroline recalled from her flight over, and were in far closer proximity than Earth's.
Earth seemed so, so far away now.
Grimly, Caroline forged into unfamiliar territory. There always seemed to be just enough reflective light for her to see. It took her a while—because she was more concerned with running, not because she was dense—to notice that the rock around them appeared to glow with small glittery bits scattered throughout.
After some time, the man muttered something. Caroline decided it was a good time to take a break, so she came to an easy halt and lowered the man to the floor. He winced when she did so, but appeared relieved when his damaged leg came in contact with another blessedly cool stream. Caroline took the opportunity herself to remove her boots and soak her feet. It did feel lovely.
Only when they had both had a chance to relax a little did she scrutinize him again. "Were you trying to say something?"
The man smiled wryly. "Just that there is a macabre beauty to it all."
She had to agree. At least, as far as their surroundings were concerned, which she certainly hoped was what he spoke of.
"You shouldn't be talking in your condition. Or when we're in motion," she told him.
He leaned against the jagged rock behind him, weariness sketching his features. "I'm certain you can handle them."
"Thanks," she said coldly. "But that's not the point. We're not in a favorable position."
She half expected him to make a snarky remark about her earlier position, atop him. But if he had those thoughts, he wisely kept them to himself. "Right."
"If we're going to survive, we need to set some ground rules," she said grimly, removing her feet from the water. Wonderful as it felt, they were going to have to move again soon. Caroline shook loose drops free as she spoke. "First, be as quiet as possible when we're on the move."
The man didn't move to acknowledge, not even a nod. She supposed she'd have to assume he was listening.
"Second, we don't engage if we don't have to. We run. Survival is our top priority now."
The man opened his eyes but still said nothing.
"And third, I'm in charge."
He stared.
Caroline felt her hackles rise. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, Corporal."
Okay, now he was definitely mocking her. Caroline jammed one foot back into a boot, glowering at him. "You're super peppy in a pinch, aren't you?"
His lip curled. "My most sincere apologies. I'll keep this in mind next time both my legs are rendered useless on a planet with cannibalistic Apis and my fragile civilian, non-government enhanced human life is in the hands of a Marine drone, lovely though she may be."
The venom with which he spat his words was not new. Back home, even in their dire situation, many a civilian distrusted both government and military factions.
Still, that was back home. Caroline stood once her feet were covered again, her hands squarely on her hips as she eyes him with new distrust. "Between the two of us, I'm the one with the training. I highly suggest setting aside your undeserved snark toward my job until we make it off this stupid planet alive."
The smile he flashed was sharp and nasty. "Nothing in your training will ever prepare you for the unknown, sweetheart."
"Oh, and fourth rule," she said, kneeling to pick him up again. "Stop calling me that."
He snorted derisively, but went mute once she took her first step.
They moved that way for what must have been hours. Even with her superhuman abilities, the act of carrying a full grown man wore on Caroline as the day—did time pass in days, here?—dragged on and they continued to encounter the same jagged, sparkling rock with the same cold rivers that she didn't even know if they were safe to drink. Not that it stopped the oversized man-child she carried from drinking, and mockingly offering her a taste. Caroline determinedly stuck to what limited supplies she had, but even those ran low very soon.
If her ship hadn't crashed and very possibly exploded somewhere above them, Caroline had actually brought useful tools. A small backpack device that served to test water or other liquids for adequate human consumption, a scanner to detect fatal levels of known hazards such as radiation in pliable foods, and a thermoluminescent device to monitor her daily gamma intake. Without those she was vulnerable to the dangers of the planet, dangers that the idiot man she was crazy enough to continue vying for his survival seemed more than happy to ignore. He drank the water, wet his finger and tasted for salt levels in their surroundings, even washed his abrasions without thought to whether or not he would become infected.
He was just as likely to die of his own stubbornness than the alien enemy, Caroline realized.
There came a point when they stumbled across daylight again. This time it was from a narrow hole toward the top of their imprisonment, too narrow to climb up even if they could get a foothold on the slippery, jagged stone that surrounded them. But it did bring some relief, knowing enough time had passed that it was daylight. Caroline chose to stop in that area, setting the man up into a small nook in the cave where his legs could prop up slightly and provide some minor relief.
"So," she said calmly, earning a suspicious glance from the stranger. "It looks like we'll be stuck together for a bit, provided you don't, I dunno, slit my throat in my sleep."
"I won't, so long as you don't tempt me," he said in a brittle, sweet voice.
Caroline ignored that. "It'd be easier to know your name."
He blinked, apparently taken aback by the request. He shouldn't have been, she thought. He'd asked for hers, and she'd even fooled around with him without knowing what to call him.
Slowly, as though expecting her to have a violent reaction, he said, "Klaus."
It sounded vaguely familiar, but Caroline couldn't place anything serious to the name. Yet she filed away his reaction for later, in case something clicked. "A German name. I always thought the language was kind of coarse. Strikes fear," she said cavalierly.
Klaus bared his teeth in a move not quite a smile. "It's derived from Latin, actually. Niklaus."
She liked that a bit better, but common etiquette dictated she call him what he chose to introduce himself as. Caroline shifted from one foot to the other, nodding. "Any siblings?"
His lips pressed together in a thin line, and his eyes went cold. Apparently that was too sore a subject for him. Instead he shifted gears on her. "I'm more interested in what drew a fashion designer to the Marines."
Caroline jolted inwardly. She took great care to mask it, but the damage was done.
How does he know that?
The conniving, uncanny way he looked at her said that he knew she'd been caught off guard. If anything he grew absurdly more confident, his pose lackadaisical in spite of the sheer agony he had to be experiencing.
"Jeunesse Blanchefleur, the young white flower," Klaus mused coyly. "Subtlety is clearly not your strong suit."
"You didn't exactly ace the class, either," she bit back.
"Fair enough."
"Besides, the company could run without me," she said stiffly. Her tone was a little too defensive, she knew, but he'd somehow figured out a part of her she managed to conceal from most of the public. Clearly something about this man was off, if not dangerous. "Marines needed volunteers, I was a good candidate, and I'll have work to come home to once this war is over."
"Provided we win," he said shrewdly. "You have an awful lot of confidence, love."
Caroline bristled. "I told you not to call me that."
Klaus's mouth curved. "No, love, you told me not to call you sweetheart."
"No nicknames," she snapped.
"I can't see how we'll get along, then."
"We don't have to. We just have to survive."
"Well, I'd prefer to get along. It raises my chances of sleeping with you again."
Caroline's eyebrows shot up at that. Damn, this guy was bold. She'd be lying if she said there was no appeal to it, but that didn't make his statement any less crass.
"Not likely," she said coolly. "Pity lays aren't my thing."
His stormy eyes clouded further. But his smile juxtaposed the sinister light. "I'm glad to hear the first time wasn't a, as you call it, 'pity lay.' That means a lot, Jeunesse."
The instant she opened her mouth to snap at him for yet another nickname, Caroline realized she was dealing with a crafty type. Somehow she knew that if she reminded him of her rule, Klaus would condescendingly explain the difference between a nickname and a pseudonym.
Un-freaking-believable.
With a low groan, Caroline leaned against the cold wall opposite of her new… antagonist? Yes, that seemed to be a good word for him. There was no doubt he was doing all he could to push her buttons now that they had a moment of peace.
"I should have left you to die," she said heavily.
Amazingly, he had nothing to say to that. Klaus just shrugged.
If only she were on Earth, thought Caroline bitterly. She'd have gone sweet and quiet, used her spare time to dig up dirt on him, and used it against him like he was using her former career against her. And it wasn't that she was ashamed of being a former fashion designer-turned-Marine. But it reminded her of all she'd given up, the emptiness in her chest that had settled after her mother died of an aggressive brain cancer; how she sought the government and danger and massive changes both mental and physical just to cope with the pain once it became clear that liquor wouldn't do it for long, and hard drugs were not an option.
Well, she'd certainly attained her goal. Here she was, running away from Apis, with no good equipment and an asshole of a civilian somehow stuck in her side like a bur. And every step of the way, said asshole of a civilian chose to be a contrarian and needle her. How he thought that a useful expenditure of his energy, Caroline couldn't fathom.
Smart as it would be to keep moving, she was exhausted and needed the rest. Even super-soldiers needed to recuperate.
"We should take turns sleeping," she said flatly, not wanting to engage in more conversation than necessary. "You go first."
Klaus looked at her scornfully. "Don't be an idiot." When she opened her mouth to retort, he added ruthlessly, "As previously noted, you're the most capable of present company. I won't be of much use rested or unrested. You will. The least I can do is wake you."
He was right, of course. Caroline had come to the same conclusion well before he'd voiced it. But a deep gut feeling told her he was dangerous, perhaps as dangerous as the Apis. If she closed her eyes in front of him, what would happen then?
They analyzed each other for a few tense moments. Klaus was the first to move, and it was to heave a sigh and roll his eyes heavenward.
"I promise not to let the Apis nibble on your lovely innards," he stated.
Caroline scowled.
"I swear on my dear sister," Klaus added with utmost reluctance.
It could be a trick, a ploy on her sympathy… and yet, thought Caroline, he had been utterly unwilling to mention siblings before. This could just as easily be a brief moment of sincere clarity. Both seemed equally likely, and she wasn't certain whether to trust her training or her gut. Both were useful, and either could steer her wrong.
She looked around, grabbing some small rocks from the ground. Most were black and grainy, reminiscent of basalt from Earth. Deliberately, Caroline placed a handful next to Klaus, pinning him with her hardest stare.
"You hear the slightest thing, and you wake me up," she hissed. "Even if you have to use these."
Klaus's mouth twitched, as though he badly wanted to make a smartass comment. Instead he hefted a couple of the stones in one hand, ruminating upon their feel and weight.
"Have a good sleep, Jeunesse," he murmured.
Trying to make peace with her unease, Caroline made herself comfortable sitting against the opposite wall and tried to do just that.