A/N: So, news! This has turned into a three-shot. I couldn't resolve the conflict in just this one chapter, so you'll have to wait probably another week for me to get the final part out. Sorry.

Either way, thank you so much for the support! I'm really not sure how you'll feel about this update, but know that the final part will be all happy and funny. This is the angstiest it'll get.

It cuts off at a weird bit, but I really hope it doesn't ruin the effect.

Enjoy!


When the Bleeding Stops Part 2: Fool Me Twice

She was cold and she was so thirsty. Stefan had brought her to the old boarding house, laid her on one of the fancy sofas and then left to make some phone calls. If she tried, she would be able to hear his hushed words, but the venom was taking effect quicker than she remembered.

When Stefan came back a few minutes later, his face having taken on a very unattractive grey sheen, she didn't even have the energy to smile.

This was how it ended for her. One stupid werewolf bite to the hip and she was a goner.

Three times. She'd been bitten by a werewolf three different times, but there was no one here to save her now. The one person that could help her was off trying to take over the world, or something of that nature.

Funnily enough, Caroline wasn't afraid. She'd come to terms with the idea of living forever when she was still a teenager, and though the notion was romantic, the reality was just depressing. Living forever would mean she'd have to watch her mother die. It meant never being able to settle down for more than ten years because soon enough people would realise that she wasn't actually getting any older.

She was okay with dying. Well, not really. It hurt like a bitch and Stefan looked like he was about to start crying. But at least she wasn't scared.

"Can I get you anything, Caroline?" Stefan asked when he took a break from pacing the living room, his beautiful hair sticking in every direction.

Caroline thought for a moment. Did she want anything? Need anything?

Klaus. She needed him to come rescue her. Offer his wrist like the responsible little hybrid he was. But he'd probably forgotten all about them, just like she was still trying to forget about him. Good thing she was almost dead. She could finally stop torturing herself about sleeping with him. And about maybe falling in love with him.

"Nothing, Stefan. But it would be nice if you sat still. This beautiful persian rug isn't going to last any longer if you don't stop marching on it."

The green-eyed vampire smiled crookedly before sitting next to her, lifting her sweaty legs onto his thighs. He absently stroked her shins with his thumbs, completely lost in thought, that smile vanishing as quickly as it came.

A few moments later, as Caroline tried thinking of anything to take her mind off the excruciating pain radiating from her side, Damon, Elena and Bonnie stormed into the living room. Their eyes widened when they caught sight of her.

Stefan zipped up from the sofa and pulled the three of them into another room. Caroline could hear more hushed voices, but her strength was almost all gone. She could barely bring herself to blink.

"Caroline," Elena hummed, kneeling next to her. Her suntanned hand stroked Caroline's clammy cheek. "You're going to be okay," she said.

Caroline almost laughed. "I'm dying, Elena," she croaked. "But, yeah. I think so too."

"Your mom is on her way. She's worried."

Shifting her head so she was facing Elena, Caroline tried to lift her lips, giving up after a few seconds of mind-numbing agony. "Thank you. For being here."

"Of course we're here. Matt's almost here too. So is Jere. You're going to be okay," she said again, and she smiled at Caroline like she truly believed that.

"I'm tired, Elena," Caroline mumbled. "And my head hurts."

"Shh. Don't close your eyes, Caroline. Keep them open. Fight," Elena begged, her words leaving her lips in pants.

Caroline couldn't stand this. Everyone showing up to say goodbye to her? How unreal. Just a few hours ago she was sitting at the Grill with Stefan, lying to him about missing Klaus.

Now Elena was crying two inches from her face, smoothing Caroline's unruly hair from her sticky-as-cotton-candy forehead. Soon the sheriff would arrive, and that would be Caroline's undoing. Watching her mother sob for her as she lay cold and dying was not something she wanted to witness.

The front door opened and shut. Two new sets of stomping feet entered the house.

"Caroline, God," Matt cried from the doorway. Jeremy was by his side, his dark eyes bunched.

"Oh, be quiet. Don't scare her," Damon chided as he strolled in, a glass of some amber liquid in his pale hand. "Want some, Blondie?" He offered, raising an eyebrow.

Trust Damon to still be an ass in the midst of a crisis.

Elena frowned. "What do you think, Damon?"

"What?" He chugged the alcohol in one gulp. "It might help take some of the edge off."

Caroline gasped a small laugh, but stopped when everyone's face fell. Stefan zoomed in from wherever he had been, phone pressed to his shoulder, face frozen in fear. Bonnie followed close behind.

She mentally checked Laughing Quietly off as something not to do when dying in a room full of overly cautious vampires, witches, and humans. "I'm fine," she wheezed. "It was a—" cough "—laugh."

"Seriously," she added when they continued to look at her as if she were about to expire right then. Judging by the amount of pain she was in, though, that probably wasn't too bad of a guess.

"Well," Stefan said calmly, but Caroline still felt his eyes on her every few seconds. "Now that we're almost all here, I think we should sit and relax." He took a seat on the floor, folding his legs like he was a child.

Slowly, everyone snapped out of their stupor and joined him.

Here she was, nearly dead and surrounded by people who loved her.

I don't want to die, she realised suddenly, the pain of that recognition almost as powerful as the poison running rampant through her veins.

"Story time, brother?" Damon asked mockingly, his knee glued to Elena's. Caroline saw her best friend's fingers twirl calming patterns over the raven-haired man's back.

Was he scared for her too?

Stefan smiled sadly. "Yeah, why not? You wanna hear some tales of the Civil War, Care? World War II? The Roaring Twenties?"

Her eyes gleamed when he mentioned the twenties and she nodded once, her neck protesting. That was when Klaus and him had first gotten to know each other.

"The nineteen-twenties, then," Stefan conceded, and he launched into a captivating spiel of his time during the Jazz Age.

.1.

Caroline's mom arrived shortly after Stefan had finished explaining how his persona ended up in one of F. Scott Fitzgerald's novels.

The werewolf venom was still spreading. Her skin trembled with every tiny movement, so she'd taken to lying as still as possible.

It had been three hours since the attack. The sun was gone. Her hope was gone.

I don't want to die.

Stefan rushed to Liz straight away, his hands clamping over hers.

"Is he almost here?" Her mother asked, forehead creased. She looked so very old, Caroline noticed.

Who?

"He's just reached the town limit. Shouldn't be long now," Stefan whispered, and the sheriff's mouth opened, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Caroline, honey," her mom hushed, eyes full of unshed tears.

"Don't…cry," Caroline said, surprised at how weak her voice sounded.

"You'll be okay," Liz informed her determinedly. "I promise you."

Through the haze of venom and beyond the frightened faces of her friends and mother, Caroline began to suspect there was something they weren't telling her. But just as she was about to ask what that something was, the darkness pulled, jerking her so violently that her mom jumped back.

"Caroline!" She heard someone, maybe everyone, scream.

Her eyes slammed shut and she opened her mouth, a gargled cry echoing around the room.

Make it stop, make it stop! she pleaded, and it stopped.

.1.

"Argh! Why didn't you call me sooner?" Someone was angry. Someone was pissed beyond redemption.

Hands trailed her sides and if she wasn't comatose, she might have giggled. She was very ticklish.

"We…we couldn't find her. She'd already been lying there for two hours when I got to her."

"Not good enough!" The voice bellowed. She groaned inwardly at the invasive noise. "You were all supposed to be protecting her!"

"Stop it, this isn't helping anyone!"

"Can you save my daughter or not?"

"Do something. She's not responding."

"Please."

"Help her!"

"What in God's name are you doing? This isn't a strip joint!"

"I need you all to shut your mouths! Stefan, help me take her shirt off."

"Don't touch her like that!"

"Liz, I know she's your daughter and you've got hang-ups about her virtue, but I need to see what I'm dealing with here. The wound is on her hip, yes? The hip that just so happens to be covered by both her shirt and her trousers." The voice sounded indignant, like it didn't have time for all the other voices.

"Liz, why don't you come with me and Bonnie. We'll make you some tea."

"I'd like a glass of bourbon, if you've got it."

"Damon, get Matt and Jeremy out of here."

"Stefan, are you okay?"

"Damon, now!"

"Damon, I'm fine. Go."

There was silence. She felt cool metal run along her stomach.

"Don't cut her."

"I'm being careful."

Someone lifted her up into an awkward sitting position. Her head lolled to one side, resting against a hard shoulder. Her shirt fell off of her.

"We need to get her jeans off too." And so her jeans went too.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Go be sick somewhere else, I've got her now. Go on, Stefan. She's going to be fine," the voice said, but it didn't sound very convincing.

"I've got you, love," it said, holding her upright again, and instantly she was calmed. "Open your mouth, come on."

She tried telling her jaw to loosen, but it wouldn't listen.

Warm fingers pulled on her chin until her teeth popped apart. "Good girl," the voice applauded. "Now suck," it told her, pressing a sweet-scented liquid to her lips.

As if on instinct, she latched her mouth around whatever was offering her the metallic, tasty treat and she suckled it like a newborn child.

When the voice told her stop, she again didn't listen, but the liquid was pulled from her nonetheless. She would whimper if she could find her voice.

"Sleep now, love."

She could do nothing but comply.


The sun was far too bright. It scorched her eyelids until she groggily decided it was probably time to wake up.

Boy, did she have a story to tell Elena and Bonnie. She had started dreaming in vivid detail when she became a vampire, but never before had a dream felt so real.

Klaus was there, for heaven's sake, patching up her werewolf bite. He'd stripped her!

She opened her eyes.

The first thing she realised was, this was not her bedroom. This wasn't even her house. This wasn't even her dorm room.

If anything, this looked like the Salvatore's place. Red and gold and old wood everywhere.

"Ah, sleeping beauty awakens," lulled a soft voice beside the bed.

She startled, thrown by the familiarity and warmth in those few words; they sounded absolutely relieved. And then another thought came to her: it had not been a dream.

Well, fuck me.

Turning her no-longer-aching head in the direction of the voice, she frowned. "What are you doing here?" She asked, her throat dry. There was an incessant pulsing in her teeth that told her it was probably time to indulge in some blood.

"Well," he said, raising his eyebrows playfully. Something told her he shouldn't be allowed to do that. It was too…attractive. "Saving your life."

Groaning dramatically, she pushed her irrational thoughts aside and tried to focus on anything but the wild vampire king sitting in extreme proximity to her. "So it really wasn't just some horrific nightmare?"

Klaus' eyes widened for a moment, like he was suddenly afraid of some beast Caroline couldn't see, but in an instant he'd gotten his smug calm back. "It was pretty horrific. And a nightmare for just about all your friends. But no, it wasn't bad dream. It was definitely real."

She was about to get up. Storm off, make some big show of how unaffected she was that he had come back to Mystic Falls. But one shift and she felt the silkiness of the sheets covering her body glide over her bare stomach and legs. Shit, she was naked.

Of course she was naked. And of course she was naked in a room where Klaus was her only companion.

"Problem, Caroline?" He asked, wearing a conceited grin.

She shot him a like-you-don't-already-know look. "What did you do with my clothes?" She paused, gathering the duvet and pulling it up so it covered her bra-clad chest. Caroline sat up and raised an eyebrow. "Better yet, tell me why I'm not wearing any."

"You aren't totally naked. You've got your underwear on. I'm not that much of a pervert, you know," he assured her casually.

Why did he have to be such an ass to her? She did nearly die just a few hours ago. At least she thought it was just a few hours ago.

"Oh, well, thank you so much for that," she mumbled sarcastically.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love. You don't have to be shy around me."

Caroline rolled her eyes, a blush making its way from her toes to her hairline. She hid her face, but knew Klaus had already seen her reaction to his statement. "Just…why? Couldn't you have not stripped me down? Or could you not resist?"

"Yes, that's it," he agreed jokingly. His expression darkened suddenly, making Caroline uncomfortable. "I couldn't stay away."

And there was a hidden message in what he said, something Caroline detected. Something sad and lonely and true.

Klaus stood up, wandering over to the second window in the bedroom. She watched him thrust open the curtains. She shielded her eyes from the powerful streams of light. Thank God she was still wearing her ring.

"I had to see what had happened," he told her quietly, his accent drifting to her as if he were singing her a lullaby. "Stefan called me and I didn't believe him, but he was terrified, I knew that much. When I got here, I just had to see."

"Had to see…?"

He glanced at her, his eyes piercing her non-existent soul. His gaze went to her hidden hip. "Your wound." Holding his hands behind his back, Klaus started walking around the room, observing little trinkets here and there that lined the walls. His movements reminded her of when Stefan was pacing last night.

...At least she thought it was night.

"How long was I asleep?" She asked when Klaus paused in front of a wardrobe. He opened the doors, revealing a large expanse of period clothes. It looked like a closet from one of her old drama camps.

Klaus began flicking through the different outfits. "Two days."

Two days? Caroline inhaled sharply, a wave of dizziness washing over her. "That's…a long time."

Pulling out a top that looked like it had travelled there from the 60's, Klaus held it up to his chest and smiled at her, though it was nowhere near as teasing as it had been earlier. "It was a bad bite. You needed a lot of time to recover."

"And…and where is everyone else?" All of her friends. Stefan. Her mom.

Klaus put the shirt back and closed the wardrobe doors. "I told them I'd watch over you. They were looking a bit peaky."

So they hadn't just left her. He'd made them leave.

A question popped into her head and was out of her mouth before she had a second to think about it, "Why did you come?"

Klaus looked confused by her inquiry. "You were dying…"

Biting back a snarky remark, Caroline rolled her eyes. "Okay, yeah, but why are you still here? I get that Stefan called you about saving my life, that's understandable, but what's keeping you here?" And she did get it, why Stefan contacted Klaus. He was the only one who could save her life and he seemed to get here quick enough. She was even thankful that Stefan had swallowed his pride and called the baddest-of-the-bad hybrid. Caroline hadn't wanted to die. Klaus had, once again, given her another chance at life.

But why he hadn't left yet—why he hadn't left the minute her wound started to heal—was creating a storm cloud of bewilderment inside her mind.

Klaus came and sat back in the chair beside the bed. Caroline looked down at him, taking in the creases marring his gorgeous face. He looked terribly exhausted. It almost broke her.

"We weren't sure how long it would take for you to get better. You weren't waking up. I wanted to be here when you did."

The words sounded foreign and uncomfortable coming from Klaus. She was so used to him demanding respect and fear, so used to him shouting that he never cared about anything other than himself and his family. Listening to him talk about staying with her until she woke up was the strangest thing.

"How did it happen? The bite?" He asked when she didn't respond.

Caroline shook her head in a vague attempt to gather her thoughts. She bunched her eyebrows together, trying to remember. "I had been drinking, I think. Um, Stefan and I were talking, I remember that. He said something that pissed me off, so I stormed into the woods looking for something to drink. I get thirsty when people make me angry," she explained. Fear started to prickle down her spine as she recalled her quest for blood. "I, uh, heard a noise as I was…hunting…but I thought it was nothing. The next thing I knew, a werewolf had grabbed me by the hip. And it wouldn't stop shaking me—" she broke off when she noticed the solitary tear dribbling down her cheek.

The hybrid shuffled closer to her, his finger reaching out and gathering the salty liquid onto his forefinger. A sinister spark of want spread through her at his touch. "Do you remember what the wolf looked like?"

She blinked, forcing her dangerous thoughts to halt. "I think it was brown and white. But a pale brown, like the colour of apple cider." She could see the monster when she closed her eyes, how vicious it looked as it tore through her flesh.

"Hey, hey," Klaus soothed, moving from his chair to the bed as her body shook with silent sobs. He pulled Caroline's head to his chest, and she didn't bother to care when the duvet slipped down her body, revealing her white lace bra. "It's okay. You're safe now."

I'm safe, she said to herself. I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe.

Who was this man holding her? Last she heard he was trying to take over New Orleans. But she felt so safe, so warm, in his arms. This wasn't Niklaus Mikaelson, the baddest vampire that ever did live. This was her Klaus, the guy who'd spent so long trying to woo her. The guy who'd succeeded in his task.

She was being foolish when she expected that one time to be enough. Stefan had been right, she missed him. She craved him.

Ugh, why? What was the point? He was going to go to New Orleans soon and she couldn't just follow him there.

"Caroline," he murmured. Caroline raised her head, holding in another attack of sobs. He gave her a small smile and swiped her cheeks. "I've got to be honest with you," he said, his face falling.

Caroline's chest tightened. "Wh—what? What is it?" She stuttered.

Scared blue met wary blue.

"Klaus, what is it?" She repeated more urgently.

Klaus let out a puff of air. "When I left," he began, his voice (if she weren't mistaken) shaking, "I took Haley, Tyler's friend, with me."

Where was he going with this?

Pressing her head to his chest again, Klaus continued, "and it was because she is pregnant…with my child."


When she awoke again, she mustered the energy to get out of bed and went to the full-length mirror in the Salvatore's bedroom. After ordering Klaus away she'd somehow managed to drift off.

Red blotches stained her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with pink. The look did not suit her.

Sadness didn't suit her.

But she wasn't just sad. She was disappointed. And she felt used.

He'd told her everything. Everything!

Genevieve, the…baby. The Camille chick.

When he'd come to her in the fall, he'd seemed so wanting. Wanting of her. She thought she was special. He made her feel special.

She wasn't special, not to him.

Caroline abandoned the mirror and went back to the bed. No one else had been up to see her, so when she saw a fresh pile of clothes and a folded note on top of them, she was thoroughly perplexed.

Caroline, the note read on its upside. She recognised that handwriting. Caroline crumpled it up and threw it in the wastepaper basket.

Maybe she was a masochist. Maybe that's what she turned into the minute Katherine snuffed her with a pillow. No, scratch that—there was no doubt in her mind she was a masochist. And it wasn't Katherine that had turned into one. It was Klaus.

She craved him like she craved blood. She just got really good at pretending it wasn't true. Seeing him aways came with a mix of pleasure and pain, and she got the biggest kick out of those feelings.

Elena had it right—the bad boy just couldn't be turned down. But she had to try, because at the moment the pain was overpowering her.

Was she always just an itch to him? An annoying tease he only pursued because she didn't immediately give into his charm?

Well, he'd scratched her now. Scratched her so hard she was bleeding.

Dressing in silence, Caroline came to the conclusion that she should go downstairs. She didn't know if anybody was at the boarding house, but this room was too stuffy, and all she could hear within its walls were the words pouring like werewolf venom out of Klaus' mouth.

The lighting inside the house was dimmed, giving everything inside a glow. Sitting casually on the sofa she believed would have been her deathbed was Stefan, a book in hand. He turned his head when she reached the bottom step.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of her, inspecting her closely. His hands drifted from her cheeks to her shoulders to her waist.

"I'm fine, Stefan," she assured him. Lies, lies, and more lies.

Stefan stepped away from her so they were at least an arm's-length apart. "I know, Klaus told me. He said your hip was healing faster than he'd hoped. Though he did say it would probably scar."

"How do vampires scar? That makes absolutely no sense."

"Werewolf venom does things to us," he informed her. "It messes with our systems. It has the ability to leave scars."

Caroline threw up her hands in a huff. "Great!" She exclaimed loudly. "So now I'll have a damn scar from that stupid thing. Amazing. I'll never be able to wear a bikini again!"

"Whoa, what's got you all worked up?" Stefan frowned at her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Caroline stuck her chin up. "What do you mean?"

"Care, of course you can wear a bikini. The scar'll be hidden by your bikini bottoms," he explained. "So, I repeat, what's got you all worked up?"

Caroline said nothing.

A look of annoying realisation blew across Stefan's face. He smiled at her. "Klaus. He looked a bit miffed when he stormed out of here. What did you guys fight about?"

Only one thing Stefan said stuck out. "He's gone?"

Stefan frowned again, the V in his forehead deepening. "Back to NOLA, yeah. Said you didn't need him anymore—Care," he said, concerned. "What's the matter?"

Caroline fought against a sniffle, but couldn't hold back the sharp gasp that filled her lungs. "God! He's such a bastard," she cried. "He fucked Haley! He went on and on about how bad Tyler was for doing it, when Tyler didn't do anything, and then he went and he did it! And he got her fucking pregnant! How does that happen? How…I…Stefan." She choked on his name and collapsed into a chair.

"Caroline Forbes," Stefan cooed. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me that I'm stupid for trusting him. Say I shouldn't even be thinking about him. That I can't be upset about this because it doesn't affect me in the least," she pleaded, needing someone to snap her out of her misery.

"I can't do that."

She glared at Stefan through hazy eyes. "Why not?" She snapped.

"Because it isn't true. None of it. I've told you time and time again that it's okay to like Klaus. He's not my favourite person in the world, but he's clearly, weirdly in love with you." Caroline started to protest, but Stefan held up his hand. "Ah-ah, no speaking yet. I'm not done. What I'm trying to tell you, Caroline, is you can't be afraid of this. Be afraid of what this guy does when he's feeling rejected and angry. He obviously used Haley because he couldn't get to you. And this whole baby thing? I've got no clue how it happened, but Klaus told me himself that he and Haley have agreed the child is the only reason they're even talking to each other."

"But…Stefan, he's a father. Responsible for another human being!" Then she stopped. Anger lit within her. "He told you? He told you and said nothing to me?" She accused.

Fearing the worst, Stefan backed up a few feet. His green eyes shone with defensiveness. "Yes. Yes, he told me. But it was only when we thought you were going to die. He said that if he could go back in time and change anything, anything in his life at all, it would be that mistake."

Caroline stormed to her feet and placed her clenched fists on her hipbones. "So you and him are chums now, huh? Best buds again?"

"Of course not, Caroline," he chided impatiently. "But when he saw you fighting for your life, he just started talking. About everything. About you. He's old, Caroline. He doesn't let things like girls get to his head. But you've always been the exception."

Caroline, again, remained silent. She didn't want to hear this. Stefan was typically very good at being on her side. She wanted him to shout with her about how lame and asshole-y Klaus was, not praise him.

"Look," Stefan sighed. His shoulders slumped and he looked exhausted. How had she not noticed before? Because you're a selfish bitch sometimes whose main concerns are your own problems.

Right.

"Klaus doesn't necessarily deserve your forgiveness right away. He made some awful choices. He's always going to be damaged, but trust me, please, when I say that he's trying. And you deserve someone who tries. Someone who gives up the parts of themselves that make them bad so they can be good for you.

"I'm not going to say anything else on the subject," Stefan said, and she believed him. "You can do what you like with the information I've given you, but know, Caroline, that Klaus has always tried with you."

And again, she believed him.


A/N 2: Well? Wanna kill me yet?