So this is my first drabble-ish Klaroline story. I hope you enjoy it.
I just want to note that I have never seen TO, nor have I seen most of TVD season 5, so this may not be canon compliant. This fic is also un-beta'd so all mistakes (of which I'm sure there are many) are all mine.
The woods were eerily silent. Caroline could hear branches creaking and leaves rustling in the wind. Otherwise, she was met with nothing, as if the woods had emptied themselves of all life. The towering trees and thick underbrush were oppressive and unwelcoming, yet she pressed on, inextricably drawn deeper into the woods, step by step.
Only hours ago, Caroline had been sleeping soundly in her dorm room, wrapped up in comforters and dreams. She had awoken suddenly, filled with dread and an inescapable drive to go home. She had thrown on whatever clothes she could get her hands on, and flashed to her mother's house. Standing outside her childhood home, she'd felt no sense of calm or reassurance. She had been sure something was wrong, that her mother was in danger, that she needed her. Yet her she was, bathed in the light of the nearby streetlamp, looking up at her mother's window, listening to a steady heartbeat and slow deep breathing. Everything was fine.
Caroline glanced around her neighbourhood, looking for anything out of place, any sign of a threat. The street was still. And then, almost without even thinking about it, she began walking, purposefully into the woods. Her long, confident strides took her further and further away from the lights, until she was relying completely on her vampire senses to see her way through the blackened trees. The journey was a strangely out of body experience, her feet leading her forward as if they knew where to go, but her mind remained confused. Her body lend her into a tangled mass of trees; branches cut at her arms and caught in her hair. Just when her mind began to rebel and question the action of her wayward body, it hit her: blood.
The smell overwhelmed her olfactory glands, and she had to breathe through her mouth to control the input to her brain. The scent of blood, death, and something else, something vaguely familiar, permeated her every pore, and her body propelled her forward, moving even faster, as if desperate to reach the source of this sensory onslaught. Just as Caroline began to think she would be stuck in a tangled maze of branches, never reaching her goal, her body broke free and staggered out into a clearing.
Beams of moonlight illuminated the grass in front of her, allowing Caroline to take in the scene. Bodies, or parts of bodies, were strewn around the open space, and the tattered remnants of a tent fluttered pathetically in the night air. Looking slightly to her left, Caroline saw a form, shrouded in darkness. Approaching slowly, once again unable to stop herself despite raging internal protests, Caroline moved closer until she could see the features of the figure before her.
It was a man, seated on the ground, leaning against a tall oak tree, gulping down what appeared to be a bottle of whisky. His blond curls were matted with blood and his body was caked in crimson, with streaks of dirt smeared across his limbs. He wore absolutely nothing else. Caroline quickly stopped her inspection and kept her eyes on his face.
"Klaus?" She said hesitantly, her voice echoing loudly through the otherwise soundless forest.
"I killed my child today." He stated, never acknowledging her presence. "I ripped its heart right out. It only took a little tug: so small, so fragile. Utterly defenseless against me. The future of our family, Elijah's hope for my salvation, dead at my hands." Klaus sat, staring at his hands, like Lady MacBeth, except his hands were bloody, literally and figuratively.
"Klaus…" Caroline began, but she no idea what to say, or how to feel. He had killed his child, no, not even a child, an infant. The rumours out of New Orleans were that Klaus' heir was still in utero. The whole supernatural community was waiting with bated breath to see just what the baby would be, and, no doubt, how it could be used to their advantage. She knew she should feel disgust, disgust at the man who could kill a defenseless child, but she felt only sadness: sadness for the child, who never had a chance at life, and sadness for the man, sitting alone by the tree staring at his hands as if he wasn't even seeing them.
"It's not the first time I've killed a child. We used to do it quite frequently, especially during plagues. Orphans used to wander the cities, lost and starving. It was merciful: a quick, clean kill. Rebekah used to sing them lullabies." He said softly. "What's one more?"
"This wasn't just one more Klaus." Caroline said, sitting down on the grass beside him. "This was your child. It's different." Surely it had to be different?
"My heir: A demon and a pawn. Its life was over before it even began." He replied, he voice dull and soulless.
Caroline looked at Klaus, his eyes like deep, bottomless pools, haunted by his present and his past. She leaned back, settling in against the tree behind them, feeling the dark and quiet of the night envelope them. Sometimes it was hard to even begin to comprehend what it must be like to be a thousand years old: how many years Klaus and his siblings had run from their father, how many people he had killed, and how many people he had watched die. The world, humanity, must look so different through his eyes. Caroline shifted slightly, moving her body right along side Klaus', her hip touching his, her shoulder leaning into the side of his chest. Slowly, she raised her hand and placed it on his knee.
"Did it ever have a chance? The baby?" She asked, her voice echoing in the silence of the grove.
"No." His cold, dead voice replied instantly. "There was never a chance. The baby was only a weakness. Its birth, its life, would have brought nothing but death and destruction to our family. It would have ripped us asunder."
"And you couldn't protect it, or your family. There's no dagger and box for a baby." She whispered sadly.
"No there is not." He paused, and Caroline watched his hands twitching, fingers curling and uncurling. "I made a choice and I would make the same one again, and again." Klaus' voice was rough with harnessed emotion.
Caroline could hear his unspoken words, his hidden doubts.
"They'll forgive you." She said with quiet confidence.
She almost jerked in surprise when his hand touched hers as it rested on his knee. He wove their fingers together and squeezed her hand tightly, almost painfully, and after a moment of hesitation, she squeezed firmly back.
Please review! You're input is amazing :)