Old Love
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, title inspired by Eric Clapton's song of the same name.
Rating: M
Spoiler: 4.24
A/N: Thank you for all the fantastic feedback! It's nice to be back in the writing world with such a reception :). Thank you also to my beta, Cathy, who is quick and efficient and always a great sounding board for me. I hope you guys like this chapter. More to come soon!
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"Тhere isn't much I wouldn't do for you. Тhe stupider, the better."
- Richelle Mead (American author)
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September 2039
Berlin
She sits at her kitchen table, a half empty bottle of cheap wine at her right and her phone to her left.
A part of her has always known that this day would come and that it wouldn't be at all what she'd hoped but rather everything she'd feared. All day she has felt strange, waking up with a sinking feeling that she couldn't quite shake.
Now she knows what that was and can't help but think that Stefan was entirely right about her vampirism. Perhaps a part of her immortality had amplified some of the more unsavory parts of her human personality, but with that came the added self-awareness and emotional intelligence she has now learned to trust.
That can be the only explanation for how unsettled she has felt all day. Her body and mind already knew that something was brewing, and that her stay in Germany was about to become infinitely more complicated.
The knot beneath her ribs tightens at the thought, and she reaches for the bottle, wishing for the alcohol to bring her a reprieve from the situation. She knows how she feels about this but her mind still hasn't truly caught up.
She also can't stop remembering the last time she saw him and the deal she made with his siblings.
"Contact me only if something goes wrong…only if he needs me."
That had been her way of assuaging guilt for not sticking around even though neither sibling judged her for it. If anything, they were both sympathetic, understanding the position she was in: wanting to be there for someone who had grown important to her, but needing time to herself to lick her wounds…to mend her heart after suffering a betrayal.
That's why the moment she saw that text message, the weight in her chest grew, threatening to crush her with anxiety and guilt. There was no reason for Rebekah Mikaelson to contact her unless…something was terribly wrong; unless it was a situation that neither she nor Elijah (the Originals, for fuck's sake) could handle.
And what could that something be if not for what Caroline had feared most from the moment she left New Orleans. Her fear had only been confirmed when she read the message from the blonde Original.
And now, she can't even touch her phone anymore, just keeps staring at it like it will give her foresight, center her emotions and force her to come up with some sort of plan…because she knows she only has a bit of time before the inevitable happens…before he happens.
The thought spurs her into action and she takes one more swig of the wine before deciding that she needs a real drink, and she knows just the place. She grabs her phone one last time though, reading over the message from RM just once more…just to confirm.
Inevitably, it leaves her with the same dread, guilt, and strange exhilaration.
She leaves without it.
I know we promised not to contact you but it's bad, Caroline. Nik's turned it off and for a while we were able to keep him under control but now he's disappeared…just be careful.
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Her mind is miles away from the darkened, emptying street and perhaps that's her first mistake.
Her second is trusting her instincts to warn her if something is amiss, which they fail to do, because, duh, she's not concentrating at all. So when she pushes the door open to find her favorite bar completely empty, save for one occupant, she cannot conceal her surprise.
And it's enough to give Klaus the ammunition he needs.
"Finally, darling. You've kept me waiting for a good two hours now." He pauses, and she swears it's for dramatic effect, "but then again, what's two hours in comparison to thirty years?"
His amusement never wavers and neither does the coldness in his eyes; and even though it's been close to three decades since she's been afraid of Klaus, a shiver runs down her spine involuntarily. He can tell immediately of course, and the smirk he gives her, along with the blatant onceover, leaves her throat uncomfortably dry.
"Shall I interest you in a drink?" He asks, as if reading her mind and there's a split second where Caroline swears she sees a flicker of something in his eyes, some emotion that tells her that even in his current state, Klaus would never purposely hurt her.
And despite her better judgment, she listens to her instincts, which are now on full alert.
"Well since you compelled all the patrons of my favorite bar to get lost, along with the bartender, I guess I have no choice but to drink with you." She snipes back at him, but it has no effect on him.
The sting is unexpected, but this time she is prepared and betrays nothing of what she feels. She knows logically that this has nothing to do with her. After all, she has seen many a vampire switch off their humanity since Elena, but the thing, Caroline quickly realizes, about Klaus without his humanity is that he is still just as captivating.
He still exudes his usual confidence laced with a good dose of arrogance, but whereas others she has seen without humanity, Elena included, come off as a true blank canvas, Klaus is still replete with color, his spirit still somehow shines through.
A strange sense of urgency suddenly fills her, a growing desire to force him back to his infuriating, at times pompous, and tenacious self, because this Klaus is quite possibly the most dangerous version of the man she has ever encountered.
"I should warn you," he begins, sliding a tumbler of scotch towards her at such a speed, she's only able to catch it because she is in fight mode. His impressed look shouldn't have any effect on her whatsoever, but it does.
Caroline fights the urge to drain the glass in one go, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's getting to her.
If possible, his smirk widens as he warns her.
"I'm not going to turn it back on just because you ask me to."
"Oh really?" She asks, making sure there's the right amount of incredulity in her voice.
"Don't play dumb, Caroline. It doesn't suit you." His tone is colder now, more detached, but it also sounds rehearsed, as if he's spent decades perfecting the voice of the Big Bad Wolf.
This observation reminds her of why he turned off his humanity in the first place and a subsequent bout of guilt hits her. Perhaps if she would have stayed, if she hadn't left New Orleans when he was so clearly in need of her presence.
But no.
It's not her fault he turned it off, he's a thousand year old vampire in full control of his decisions, (including concealing the impending birth of his child from her).
While she's had plenty of time to heal over that particular discovery, it does not mean she has fully forgiven him. The ironic thing about immortality is that when one has nothing but time on her side, certain wounds take longer to heal.
"My dear sister messaged you for a reason. She and Elijah are so damn hopeful that you'll be the answer to their prayers," Klaus scoffs at this, grabbing the bottle to refill both their glasses.
Caroline doesn't stop him; it's apparent now that he's had his switch flipped for quite some time (decades even) and has absolutely no desire to reunite with his humanity.
"And you are of a different opinion?"
He turns to her then, that empty gaze studying her critically for a moment, before his lips dissolve into a leering smile, "you're good sweetheart, but you're not that good."
The glass nearly cracks under the pressure of her tightened grasp but other than that, Caroline gives him no other indication of her desire to jam something sharp and wooden through his chest for that lascivious comment.
"Understood." She replies coolly before taking another drink, "so why did you come here then?"
This time, the calculating glare comes from her, and she holds it for as long as he lets her, hoping she can dig something, anything out of him. There has to be something in him, a flicker of some emotion that made him seek her out, otherwise it doesn't make sense.
Why come find her? Why now?
They stare at each other for a long time, and with every passing second, Caroline starts to lose hope. It's unsettling how he looks exactly the same yet so very different, the same slightly tousled light hair, the same defined jaw dotted with stubble, the full red lips, and those damn necklaces peeking out from underneath the collar of some shirt that's currently in style.
And it strikes her so suddenly and so intensely how much she has missed him that Caroline almost doesn't catch the subtle change in his expression. The barely imperceptible softening in his eyes makes her finally pinpoint exactly what it is that differentiates him from other vampires who have flipped the switch.
Klaus doesn't want this. A part of him, no matter how small, is fighting against this.
This knowledge gives her clarity, reassurance that on some level she can help him fight this and be successful, but only with the right plan.
"I got bored." He shrugs nonchalantly, "there is only so much fun to be had stateside before you realize there is a whole world at your disposal across the pond. You seem to have caught on to that rather splendidly, my dear."
His compliment speaks volumes, confirms that even without his humanity, Klaus is still very much partial towards her.
Somehow it feels like they're finally on a level playing field, even if she knows that means next to nothing where Klaus is concerned.
"I don't believe you." She narrows her eyes purposefully, bringing the scotch to her lips without looking away from him.
His expression changes to something unreadable but Caroline doesn't miss his gaze growing darker. Still for some reason it doesn't scare her like it would have before his compliment.
"Don't make the mistake of thinking that I care if you believe me or not."
But she doesn't believe him. It's not boredom that brought him here. Especially not when his own sister had assumed he would come to find her.
"You not caring, Klaus, doesn't make it any less true." She counters, channeling that inner Caroline that used to bring teenage rivals down to their knees with just the look in her eye and a flip of her hair.
He stares at her in silence for just a moment, before letting out an uncharacteristically loud laugh. It's then that the first signs of his inebriation actually come through and a part of her wants to laugh with him. But a bigger part aches for him, physically aches.
He's so close to his breaking point; she can literally picture him with one foot off the cliff, balancing on the precipice.
She doesn't want to think about what that implies for why he's here. In truth she may never know his real reason for finding her after so many years without his humanity. Instead, Caroline takes a healthy swallow from her glass, summoning all the liquid courage she can get, before fixing him with a challenging stare again.
"Prove it."
"I'm sorry, love?" He raises an eyebrow at her, acting as though she's so insignificant that he doesn't bother allotting her a moment of his attention even though they're the only two people in the bar.
Caroline wonders if he even realizes that he's playing right into her trap.
She leans closer to him, sliding to the edge of her stool as her knees part to accommodate his. She watches as he tracks the movement of her thighs, bare skin sliding against his clothed legs. At his reaction, Caroline mentally pats herself on the back for choosing a short dress to wear that morning.
"I said, prove that the only reason you have come to find me is out of sheer boredom." Her voice drops an octave on purpose, hand sliding across the bar closer to his forearm, brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt, but just barely.
As if to show dominance, Klaus unexpectedly slides his hand high up her thigh, knuckles skimming the hem of her dress but not pushing it further up as she expects. It feels incredible anyway, and Caroline has to consciously remind herself not to get lost in the sensation of his cool fingers on her heated skin.
"Oh yeah? And how do you want me to do that, sweetheart?" She doesn't realize how close he actually is until she feels his breath on her cheek. The proximity works in her favor though and she leans back just enough to look him squarely in the eye.
"Kiss me."
This time she is prepared for the flash of surprise in his eyes but not quite so for the subsequent burst of heat in her belly. It's Klaus who leans back this time, but only a fraction and only, she is sure, to give her a moment to absorb the enormity of what she's requesting.
Still, the silence gives Caroline a moment to gather her thoughts, to remind herself of the end. With a flirtatious smile, she leans forward.
"What's the matter? Is the Big Bad Wolf afraid of little Red Riding Hood?"
In a flash, she finds herself pressed up against the opposite wall of the bar, a little winded but still on high alert, not fully surprised by Klaus' impulsivity. However, that doesn't last long, for a second later, she becomes fully aware of both their proximity and the dangerous glint in his eye.
A wave of dread nearly cripples her as realization dawns. Her plan might actually work but in order for it to happen, she has to…she has to give in.
Swallowing back the last trace of hesitation, she meets his gaze head on, hoping that he doesn't see right through her, doesn't feel out her true motives. When all she sees staring back at her are pools of darkened lust, she realizes that perhaps him not caring is what will actually make this work.
It also saddens her, because she knows it as surely as she knows that the sky is blue that Klaus with his humanity intact would question her motives the second she asked him to kiss her. Hell he'd probably anticipate her inquiry and give her ten million reasons why she wasn't ready for this step.
And that is exactly why she has to do this. She cannot allow him to succumb to this shriveled up existence for eternity, not when he is doing it out of guilt and grief, and especially not when they have yet to see the world together…
The last thought enters her mind unbidden and she works hard to push it away, which isn't a problem with the growing distraction that Klaus is presenting.
"What's the matter, love?" He murmurs knowingly, fully aware of the effect he's having on her, "having second thoughts?"
He says this in a tone that absolutely infuriates her and it's not difficult to play the part of an irritated and frustrated Caroline.
"Absolutely not," She snaps back, grabbing the back of his neck roughly as if to prove a point.
"So what are you waiting for?"
If possible, his eyes darken even further and his body goes completely rigid, as if preparing for an attack. Caroline can't help but feel like vulnerable prey at the moment.
But she has no time to contemplate her position as he leans forward, his breath brushing the corner of her mouth as he stares at her almost indulgently, "don't say I didn't warn you, sweetheart."
And then he dives in…literally.
His kiss is scorching, sending jolts of liquid fire spiraling through her veins. It feels like she's just found shelter from a raging snowstorm and hadn't even realized how cold she was. When his tongue traces her lower lip, seeking entrance into her mouth, the moan that leaves her throat sounds foreign to her ear. The throb of arousal growing deep within her, however, is unmistakable and she finds herself giving in, losing focus.
Especially when one of his hands slides down, gripping the skin of her bare thigh again, but this time taking it one step further and wrapping it around his waist, leaving her completely exposed.
His assault on her mouth doesn't waver, even with his hands wreaking havoc on the rest of her body. She is nearly losing her battle with self control. The part of her that's so completely enamored by him, that has wondered for decades what it would be like to give into her attraction for Klaus nearly takes over.
But then…
The heat generated between them suddenly becomes stifling. A beat of panic begins to drum inside her as she feels his grip on her thigh tighten to an almost bruising degree. She can barely breathe out his name in warning as his lips drag possessively across her jaw and to her throat. If Caroline had a pulse, she knew it would be throbbing in protest against his mouth. But as it stands, all she can do is grip his shoulders, using every ounce of her strength to snap him out of his reverie.
She is, however, no match for him, especially not when he is nearly mad with abandon. Physically, he puts everything of himself into their embrace, smothering every inch of her body but it's without regard, because he isn't emotionally invested at all. She's just a plaything to him and though she anticipated this, it still hurts...hurts so fucking much.
But if there's anything Caroline has learned over the decades, it's that she will never not be a fighter. She's simply not programmed to be a victim anymore, not since Mystic Falls, since Silas. She made a promise to herself then that she would never be a victim again and this is no exception.
The thought fills her with adrenaline and before she knows it, she's digging her foot into the side of his hip and shoving him with all her might. Klaus stumbles back quite a few feet. It looks like she literally knocked him off balance as he stares in bewilderment, breathing heavily.
For a moment, she yearns for the return of his body, but it's overshadowed by the immense relief running through her.
It nearly numbs her, but not enough, because suddenly she feels it.
The dull throb of pain at the base of her neck and the accompanying lightheadedness can only mean one thing.
She succeeded.
For the first time in years, Caroline cannot quite decipher how she actually feels. The surge of guilt is now dueling with a sick sense of triumph. A hint of self-preservation kicks in but it's not enough to stave off the sudden ache in her heart as she finally gathers herself and chances a look at the man in front of her.
If she's fighting an internal battle with her emotions, then Klaus looks like he's in the middle of a war and one in which he can't make sense of anything. At least he's at least feeling something. The relief is palpable. She's done it; she's forced him to confront his humanity instead of escaping it.
Still, Caroline isn't sure whether the impending tears stem from sadness or joy. Shutting her eyes, she leans against the wall, working on blocking out the discomfort.
Without sight, her other senses are amplified and she can hear his heavy breathing, can feel his shock and profound rage, and when she runs her tongue over her lips, she can taste him.
The sudden burst of arousal snaps her eyes wide open and she is confronted with the sight of him.
"What have you done?" He whispers, and his accusation is clear, but the resignation in his tone betrays just how exhausted he actually is. How much of a toll fighting his humanity has taken on him.
The validation Caroline feels is almost like an antidote to the symptoms of a werewolf bite.
"I did what needed to be done to get your stubborn ass to snap the hell out of this."
She refuses to feel guilty for this and though judging by how truly angry he is, there will be hell to pay, she doesn't care. This is for his own good damn it, and it's about time the Original Big Fucking Bad accepted help from someone else.
Klaus narrows his eyes at her, hands curling into fists at his sides as a myriad of emotions flashes across his face. She can see him battling with himself, slowly getting used to having to navigate through the mess of emotions to find logic.
He's getting used to feeling again.
Well good. He doesn't get to turn it off, get a free pass just because he has suffered loss. He doesn't get to be that selfish, not when they have all dealt with it.
After all, Caroline has never turned her humanity off. Not when she discovered that her oldest friend sacrificed herself to resurrect the boy she loved; not when she realized that for months, her Stefan was drowning at the bottom of a river while the rest of them thought he was being a major jackass, because he lost the girl to his brother. And she didn't even turn her humanity off when she realized that with Klaus' permission or not, Tyler was never coming back.
She hasn't thought about any of this in years, had assumed these wounds to be healed, and now that she confronts them, the tears finally fall. The tight rope of control she's been walking ever since she got that text from Rebekah finally snaps. But Caroline refuses to give Klaus the benefit of seeing her crumble, so she angrily wipes her eyes and braces for a verbal attack; ready to defend herself.
However, she doesn't get a chance to. In a flash, Klaus is besides her once more, the sleeve of his jacket rolled up, as he braces himself against the wall and brings his exposed wrist to her lips.
"Drink." He orders, dark eyes blazing, breathing barely controlled as he reigns in his anger.
"Now." He adds menacingly, and she has the nerve to peer at him almost apologetically from beneath her lashes, as she carefully takes his wrist.
She sees his gaze softening as the spicy and sweet taste of his blood fills her senses; and she can't help but think that this is a hundred times more intimate (and arousing) than the violent groping that transpired just minutes earlier.
Caroline doesn't stop even when she's had her fill, treasuring this moment between them and committing everything to memory. Cataloguing the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way she can feel him vibrate with anger.
Selfishly, she takes everything that he gives her, trying to fill the chasm his inevitable departure will leave.
He must be thinking the same (or at least she wishes so) because even though he unexpectedly rips his wrist away from her, Klaus draws her into his arms. Caroline doesn't fight him, isn't really sure which one of them needs this more. Her guard comes down and she wraps her arms around him, holding on tightly as his cheek presses to the side of her head.
She's so lost in him, in the comfort he provides, that she doesn't even realize he's speaking until he's tearing away from her, hands on her shoulders as he searches for confirmation.
"Don't ever do that again, not for anyone, especially not for me."
"Promise me." He grits through his teeth, grip on her shoulder tightening as if he can will it into her, "promise me, Caroline."
It's the way he says her name that wakes her from her daze, prompting her to nod her head, even when she's burning inside, anger simmering at his audacity. He has no right asking her to promise him anything, not when he broke his.
"Say it." He demands anyway, because that's who Klaus is. He takes what he wants without regard for anyone or anything.
That's ultimately what makes her acquiesce, because at least that Klaus is back, hopefully all the good parts with the bad.
"I promise."
When Caroline dares to look at him again, the flicker of gratitude in his eyes is unmistakable, but in a flash he's gone and she knows that image will haunt her until the next time she sees him.
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