Title: "Deceptions"
Author: Lorelai Love Spencer-Meraz
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (TV Series)
Setting: Episode 3x21 - Before Sunset
Notes: *DISCLAIMER *All publicly recognized characters are the sole property of LJ Smith, Julie Plec, Kevin Williamson and the CW Television Network. I own absolutely nothing except the plot of this particular one-shot. *Disclaimer Ends/Rant begins* If I did own anything, there is no way in hell that there would have been a damn party over Klaus' death because 1. It would've been Alaric who got mummified or 2. Caroline would have shown a bit of appreciation at having been saved and wouldn't have thrown said party; if anything, it would've been Tyler, who in all actuality did have something to celebrate. *Rant ends*
Please read and review; if you'd like me to write a particular one shot, request it. :)
When she finds out that it's Klaus and not Alaric that's been desiccated, Caroline's dead heart lurches in her chest. She convinces herself that it's just fear. Fear of being tortured again, of having to constantly look over her shoulder, fear of what her life is going to become now that the Salvatores have so stupidly eliminated the lesser of two evils, all in what she's sure is a futile attempt to once again save Elena.
The bitterness in that thought surprises her and for a nanosecond, Caroline feels a wave of overwhelming guilt. It's not like Elena asked for this, she reminds herself. It's not like she wanted to be so important – or more specifically, wanted her blood to be so important.
But as quickly as the guilt arrives, it leaves and the bitterness from before takes its place. Because as much as Caroline knows that Elena doesn't mean to hurt anyone, she also knows that her friend thrives off of the attention, off the chance to play the martyr. No, she's not the seductress that Tatia was or as devious as Katherine, but in her own way, she's as much a manipulative bitch as her ancestors.
"Caroline? Caroline!" Tyler waves his hand in front of her face and she's rocketed back to reality. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes. Yes!" A wide smile spreads across her face and she throws herself at Tyler, the unexpected movement nearly tossing him on his ass. He buries his face in her neck as he hugs her.
"You had me worried for a second, babe," he says, his voice muffled by her hair. He doesn't need to explain; she knows that in that brief second when she was frozen, all his unspoken fears had clawed their way to the surface.
She pulls back from him, her deep blue eyes searching his brown ones. "You don't need to be. You're safe, we're free…that's what I – what we've - wanted all along."
If that's what she's wanted all along, why then does she feel like she's lying when she says those words?
Caroline feels uncomfortable.
After their moment, she and Tyler broke apart and her subconscious assaulted her.
You're a liar, Caroline, and everybody knows it.
Tyler needs to be afraid.
Who the hell are you trying to fool?
Rather than acknowledge the thoughts, she pressed on and, in true Caroline fashion, threw together a victory party because (as Bonnie explains later): "We've been after Klaus for so long; we have to enjoy it for at least a day."
And I have to distract myself somehow.
But now, as she downs another – what is it, her third? – shot of tequila, she feels like a snake that's gotten too big for its skin.
This is wrong.
If it wasn't for Klaus, she wouldn't even be throwing the damn party; she'd be among the many casualties in this supernatural war that most people in Mystic Falls – if you don't count the Founder's Council - don't even know about. Like her father, Caroline would be dead at the hands of Alaric if it wasn't for Klaus. And yet here she is, downing shot after shot under the guise of celebration while the real villain counts down the minutes until nightfall.
No, she hasn't forgotten all the bad that Klaus has done, but she knows that karma has exacted at least some revenge on him; as much as she loves her history teacher – or rather, who he used to be before his alter ego took over – she can't help but hate the fact that he has yet to pay for what he's done. Maybe if I had straight brown hair and big brown eyes and a Petrova ancestor, I'd finally get some justice. The sardonic thought puts a small smirk on her face that disappears when she catches Elena staring at her as their other friends are chattering and drinking away.
"What?" she asks.
The brunette shrugs. "You're really loving the tequila today. Are you okay?"
To avoid snapping, Caroline downs another shot and nods. "The tequila is making sure I am," she says when her glass is empty. "Don't worry, Elena. I'm just enjoying our victory. You should too."
Elena doesn't look convinced. "Caroline…"
"Elena, if the terror of being tortured mercilessly for the third time in my eternal life, followed by the crippling uncertainty of what will happen when the sun goes down and the immense relief of knowing that the man I love is okay, hasn't earned me the right to love tequila as much as I want right now, then I don't know what does," she hisses.
Her outburst silences her friends as they watch her and it takes every fiber in her to not growl. "I'm fine, Elena. I always am."
Another lie.
Hours later, after cleaning up the party mess and saying her goodbyes, Caroline lets herself into her house and calls out for her mom, only to realize that she's alone, as usual. But tonight, that's how she wants it.
She takes a quick shower and jumps into bed, hoping that a good night's rest will take away the heaviness in her heart that she's been trying to hide.
"Hello, love."
She isn't in bed anymore. Instead, she's standing and an unnatural cold – even more than hers – is coming from behind her as the whispered words dance in her ear. She whips around and gasps; he's a walking mummy. But even when his skin is grey and veined, looking like it could turn to dust at the slightest touch, there's something beautiful about Klaus.
"Klaus."
Her heart grows even heavier and her eyes fill as her hand flies to her mouth to mute the sobs that are building in her throat but one manages to escape and with that, the dam breaks. The tears she's fought off and pushed back and hidden fall down her cheeks in sheets and torrents.
"Don't cry, love. I'm right here. And this is only temporary."
Her laugh is sarcastic. "But you're not! And it's not! And…damn it…I'm so sorry, Klaus." A fresh round of tears slides down her face at the last part and Klaus cocks his head at her.
"For what, love?"
"Sorry for the party, sorry you're like this, sorry they did this!"
His face darkens. "Not nearly as sorry as they'll be."
A flash of fear shoots through her and Klaus' face softens. "Anyway love, don't be sorry. You didn't do this to me."
"But the party – "
"Was part of you keeping up appearances, Caroline. But appearances don't matter; what's in your heart does." In less than a heartbeat, Klaus' arms are wrapped around her and his face is a mere inch from hers. "I see what's in your heart, Caroline. Even if you don't."
When his lips touch hers, they are unexpectedly warm and their heat draws her in, making her respond eagerly. For the first time in this day from hell, she feels light and truly free.
Just when she's about to deepen the kiss, the heaviness hits her full force once more. Her eyes dart around the room and she realizes that she's laying down again, completely alone in her room. The realization chokes her and claws at her throat and the dam breaks once more as sobs wrack her body and tears slip down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Klaus," she chokes out. "I'm sorry. I'll make this right somehow. I promise."
For once, she isn't lying.