I don't want to say a whole lot besides that it means the world to me that you, yes you dear reader, is tagging along even after only one veeeeery short chapter. I hope you'll like this one ;) And I mustn't forget: a huge and warm thanks to my sweet and kind beta Mik (queencarolinemikaelson on tumblr) - honestly, what should I do without your help, honey?
Chapter 2: Small Steps
He was leaning against the doorframe of her office, observing how she moved around the tiny space so gracefully, busy looking for things to put in a bag. He suddenly caught attention to the sign on her door.
"Caroline Forbes," Klaus said, while looking at the sign, testing the syllables on his tongue, both names coming out charmingly different because of the accent. Caroline almost had a heart attack, not having heard her colleague with the back turned towards her office door as she was gathering things to head off to the woods to investigate the crime scene. Irritated, she turned around to put the dslr camera and latex gloves in the bag and glared at Klaus.
"You scared the shit out of me, Mikaelson!" she said, shrilly. "Knocking would be the gentlemanly thing to do."
Klaus smiled, already growing fond of the prickly attitude she seemed so keen on every time he was around.
"It was never my intention to scare you, sweetheart. I just wanted was to see what lovely name stood prior to the archetypal, american last name you have been given. Oh wait - did you speak of me as gentleman? I am truly honored." He said teasingly, arms crossed over his chest.
Surprisingly he found himself actually enjoying her company even though this was only their second interaction: their bond, if you looked at it that way, already had that life affirming feel to it that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was glorious.
Caroline eyed him immediately, annoyed (and secretly flattered, but he could never know that) with the pet names that he seemed to throw in her direction whenever he spoke. "Mikaelson, again; enough with the petnames. I'm not your anything, I'm your co-worker who's actually trying to get some work done here rather than hovering in someone's office door, playing 'read all signs within a hand's reach'."
Klaus was about to reply her, when she held up a finger, glaring at him.
"I'm not done, smart ass. First of all, I don't see you as a gentleman," – okay she kind of did – especially because of the accent – but she was too proud to ever say it to him – "because that would require that you get to learn how to be one first, okay? And secondly, do you really want to get into a discussion about last names? Mine is firmly american, like my family for decades. Yours though? Mikaelson with a k? Sounds more German or Swedish or something, rather than British. Now get out of my office, I have a crime scene to find and investigate," she stated, slinging the bag over her shoulder, sending him a judging look before walking past him.
He smirked, those typical and Niklaus Mikaelson trademark dimples showing on his stubbled cheeks, before trailing after her down the hall, his eyes accidently falling lower and lower until he eyed her gorgeous ass in the tight, black jeans. She definitely got the material in her favour.
As she heard his boots clicking against the linoleum floor, she turned around only to have Klaus stand not more than a nose's length away.
"Uhm, why are you following me?" she asked, trying not to get distracted by his obviously handsome face and oh my god those dimples, as if he couldn't get any more charming.
"Forbes, I'm going with you to the crime scene," he stated matter of factly, staring into her captivating eyes.
"No, you're not."
"Love, you're not the only investigator at the station anymore, remember?"
"That doesn't mean you have to follow me like some lost puppy. I can handle this case alone, Mikaelson."
He licked his lips, eyeing her challengingly.
"Well Forbes, you seem like the kind of woman who likes to follow the rules because it's expected of you. I have a theory that you will miss crucial details during the investigation because you do not let yourself live a little and do something different, something unexpected. I, on the other hand, see rules and routines as a killer in themselves. They are meant to be bent and disobeyed. If the two of us make up our own protocol of how this investigation is best possibly solved, I think we will find the killer faster and more precisely."
She shook her head, walking away with a scoff. As they reached the car, he swiftly blocked the car door to the driver's seat so she couldn't get in.
"Move."
"No, I won't," he said teasingly. "Not until you give me your thoughts on the matter."
"I'm not going to deflect protocol just because you tell me to. Got it?" She hissed, in annoyance, glaring at him while he just smiled back at her.
"Why not, sweetheart?"
"No petnames!" She yelled, grabbing the handle but he didn't move an inch, still blocking her way.
"Tell me, why not? What are you afraid of?"
"I wouldn't have been best in my class at the police academy if I ignored protocol, Mikaelson. I like the structure and order that it brings to my work okay?"
"I may not have been the best in my class, but I did have the most successful solving rate during my time at the NYPD. Come on Forbes, live a little…"
Caroline eyed him judgingly, before replying with a sigh, "Fine… whatever. Show me how you do things and when that doesn't work, because it won't, we will do things my way, Mister. Got it? Now, move so I can open the door."
Klaus smiled triumphantly and then crossed his arms again (did he just flex a little?). When he still didn't move, she huffed.
"Let me guess… You want to drive the car?"
"Correct," he laughed, as he leaned in closer to snatch the keys from her hand. "So move it, Forbes."
Klaus watched, still smirking, as she growled in frustration and stalked to the passenger side.
She was going to get her revenge some day.
"God, you're unbelievable! Just drive! East side of the town, down the main road," she grumbled before taking her seat in the car, leaning back to stare angrily out the window.
Men and their fucking cars.
"It must be somewhere around here…" Caroline mumbled, as she and Klaus walked through the woods, trying to locate the horrifying crime scene.
They separated and each walked in opposite directions, still within shouting distance, and that was when Klaus suddenly yelled.
"Forbes! I think I found what we are looking for!"
Caroline hurried in his direction and when she saw the bloodied body she could easily understand why Claire Sullivan was so shaken and terrified.
Hoards of flies were hovering around the body, blood and flesh, that was already beginning to rot, providing a feast for them.
Caroline took out the latex gloves, giving a pair to Klaus a well, and also the dslr camera and began taking pictures of the scene, documenting both the body's position, the state of damage and the surroundings.
She then dug into her bag to fetch the sterile equipment she'd need to collect blood, and potential evidence. With a pair of tweezers she collected some hair from the bloody forest floor.
When she turned around, she stated to her own horror that Klaus was crouching in front of the dead girl, gawking at her with an intense stare, quite frankly ruining any evidence that was in front of the body.
"What are hell are you doing?!" Caroline yelled irritated.
Klaus got up and in offense raised his hands while stepping back. "Just trying to understand the motives behind this frightening crime, Forbes. And here I thought we were doing things my way… But you are too busy playing a forensic?"
"So you're suggesting that we just walk away from here without any evidence whatsoever? That we should just sit down and wonder why this murder happened and guess our way to the murderer?"
Klaus rose from his position by the body, and walked towards her as he began to speak.
"No. I just think we should stick to the investigative part on this case and leave the medical examinations to the professionals. All I want to understand here is why this poor thing was left the way she was; why all the theatrics? Why the separated jaw? Why it was necessary for the killer to tie her up like this and leave her for show in the crowded woods. He could just have killed her and buried her somewhere where she would never be found."
As Klaus spoke, his eyes lighting with a spark she'd not seen before, Caroline was forced to consider his words.
Why had the killer done these things? Why had he or she left the body out in the open?
They were questions Caroline never thought to ask. And she was left asking herself a big one 'why had she never asked why?'
She hated that he was actually this good at his job. And she hated even more that he had been right.
Of course - he could not know this. At least not yet. Maybe one day she would give him the praise and tell him how valuable his methods actually were.
And then it hit her, being best in class at school and best in the field were two completely different things.
What if her need for structure, for control and deep down also her need for doing the right thing had limited her to a protocol-following, average investigator?
She swallowed a lump, suddenly realizing that Klaus was looking at her, expecting an answer. "Okay."
The look on Klaus's face showed both amusement but also amazement. "Okay? Is that your answer? You're not going to suggest that my methods are illogical, maybe even irrational? For the hour that I've known you, Forbes, I must admit that I expected you to stand your ground and tell me how foolish I am for qualifying my methods as investigative."
He had hit a nerve and she felt how his words and assumptions made her explode in frustration.
"I am not an average investigator, okay Klaus?! Yes, I have a need for control and order, and yes I like to follow protocol because that is a safe-zone for me that I know I master perfectly! But yes, seeing you in the field and seeing how you would want to solve this crime is new and strange to me. Just give me a freaking second to adjust, okay? I agreed to do things your way and so we are. But me picking up evidence and photographing the crime scene is necessary, so just deal with it okay? Because I am far from average and maybe that is why Shane put us together on this case: we're both good at this job and with our different approaches we could, perhaps, find the killer more efficiently," she said – completely short of breath after her long speech – throwing her arms up in the air, before stalking away to continue finding more evidence. She would not give him the pleasure of seeing her frustration.
"I never said you were average, Forbes. Because clearly, you aren't!" he said loudly, making Caroline turn around to face him again. The honesty sparkling in his eyes didn't go unnoticed.
Wow, the asshole actually complimented her.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments as they stared intensely at each other, the sound of crows in the woods scraping and the flies hovering over the body echoing through the air.
Klaus shifted his weight from one leg to the other, breaking eye contact by looking down at the ground and before Caroline could react he was looking straight at her again.
"Clearly, Shane put us together on this case, Forbes, because we would make a great team, just as you just said. But this case also reeks of rareness because it's not everyday little town Mystic Falls is the scene of such beastly murder. So, how about we shake hands and get over this little spat, and just accept that we each have a special way of doing things, but that this is strength, not a weakness, hmm?" Klaus suggested, holding his hand out to her.
Not needing much time to think about it, Caroline smiled softly.
"That sounds like a deal," she said while approaching him, giving him her hand and in that very moment they both felt a jolt running through their bodies, an undeniable spark igniting and flowing between them.
He smiled back at her; he couldn't help it because her smile was like that first warm breeze of summer on a spring evening with a just as beautiful sunset painting the sky in an orange color with a hint of pink. He held her hand for maybe a bit too long but he didn't care. He truly enjoyed her presence; hoped to get to know her better during the many hours they would spend together.
Without warning the sound of Caroline's scream filled the air and echoed through the dense woods, giving him no time to react before noticing that she was clinging to him for support, her nails digging into his shoulders.
What had caused her sudden embrace was the decaying body. The jaw had broken off the skull, and the noise as well as the gruesome sight had scared the crap out of her. The vision of the body was now more disturbing than it had been, even to her experienced eyes.
Realizing their closeness Caroline found herself staring at those full lips before stepping back, releasing her firm hold on his broad shoulders. "I'm sorry, that was unprofessional… I just–," she laughed nervously. "I just didn't seen that one coming."
Klaus laughed now as well. He genuinely believed that only policemen could laugh about a jaw breaking off the skull of a dead girl. Because he couldn't possibly believe that they laughed because it felt good being in each other's arms.
"We should get back to the station… I got what we needed for Stefan to run some DNA tests. Then he can collect his team and they will pick up the body for further investigation, and we can focus on questioning Claire Sullivan. We should also check up on all the joggers that exercise here, if they saw or heard anything strange the past few days. Maybe that can help us."
"Sounds like a plan. Here," he said before tossing the car key, smirking as he did so.
"Okay Claire, just tell us how your routine was prior to your jog this morning," Klaus said as he scribbled artistic drawings of nothing on his notepad. This questioning was as easy as a morning swim in the kids' pool; they all knew Claire sure as hell didn't kill that girl and, literally, leave her to rot. And Caroline was next to him in the office where they always held the interrogations and questionings, so he didn't have to be looking at the shaken woman; he knew Caroline would do that because that was just her nature.
Claire Sullivan had regained some of her color since this morning, obviously still shaken and terrified of her find, but she wasn't as pale as earlier.
"Well… I work as a doctor's secretary so I didn't have work until 10am, so I got up at, probably 7:45, dressed for my morning jog, woke up my dog Ozzy and then we just ran from my address towards the woods as we always do."
"Is your route always the same?"
"Not always… Well today I opted for a different route and we ran through a part where it isn't as crowded because I just hate it whenever Ozzy meets another dog, you know. He always wants to play and that's perfectly fine, but it just ruins the flow of my jog."
"So you didn't see anything suspicious on the way to the crime scene? Didn't meet anyone you didn't know or hadn't seen in the woods earlier?" Caroline asked, leaning over the desk, showing Claire that she had her full attention compared to Klaus who drew doodles (very professional) on his notepad, not even present in mind, just in body.
"No, not that I remember."
"Any tire tracks? Anything would be helpful, Claire," Caroline suggested, sending her a calm smile.
"No I'm sorry, officer Forbes."
"It's okay Claire, here," Caroline said while handing her a card with her number. "Just call me if you think of even the slightest wondering from the morning. Really, any lead to help us catch this killer is of greatest help. Now go home and get some sleep. I'm sure Ozzy is excited to see you."
Claire rose, shook hands with Caroline before leaving the room.
As soon as the door closed, Caroline snapped the sketchbook from Klaus's hands.
"Next time we question someone, please be here and do your job, Mikaelson! Now Claire Sullivan will walk away from here and think that one of the detectives didn't even care that she found a bloodied body on her morning jog!"
"Forbes, all I care of is finding the killer. Claire will get through this, I'm sure"
"Ugh you're too much! Have you always been this arrogant?"
"In fact, yes, I have. And why should I care about Claire during an interrogation when you care enough about the woman for the both of us, hmm?"
"Seriously, Mikaelson. Police work isn't just about finding the killer and receiving a medal for it. We have to be there for the victims and witnesses as well, so do better next time!" she huffed before walking out the office, slamming the door.
It pissed her off that he didn't seem to care; about the case, about Claire, about anything! Having been there herself, Caroline just felt that familiar itch of annoyance that she had faced for the first time when her mother was killed.
Sure, the officers back then had been there for her and done what they had to do in order to solve the case of her mother's death, arresting her father and sending him to jail. But the way they had just worked through the case like it was routine; like it was nothing but a folder that had to be filled, well documented and filed in the archives. Their disinterest in the people involved in the crime back then had given Caroline a wound that would never close entirely.
This wound in her broken soul was also one of the reasons she had chosen to become an investigator, she wanted to make a difference to all the victims that tended to be forgotten.
And Klaus's obvious lack of interest in Claire's fright and fear of having found the body of a young woman just scratched that wound open again.
Hopefully her little speech would make it through that thick, annoying skull of his.
Watching the now closed door, Klaus just smiled at Caroline's spat. He did care; just not about Claire Sullivan. He wasn't a fan of showing how much he actually treasured the people close to him, and clearly he was successful in hiding his compassion since Caroline Forbes, the most caring woman he'd met for a long time, couldn't look past his shield.
Digging down into the desk drawer, he found the piece of carved wood he held so dear.
A wolf.
"Nik, wait up! I have something you!" Henrik yelled as Klaus was about to exit the hellhouse that was their family home.
He watched his youngest brother run up the stairs, hearing his small feet run across the floor upstairs to his room and moments later those same feet were running back the same route, down the stairs so fast the he worried his baby brother would trip and fall down the staircase, breaking a leg.
Henrik smiled as he ran to him, short of breath when he stopped and handed him a small leather bag.
"I made it on woodwork class last week. Mr. Harris was so pissed off when he saw I was just sitting in a corner, whittling this for you. We were supposed to make a bird house, but honestly that is just bollocks. Come on Nik, open it!"
Klaus patted Henrik on the head before loosening the leather string holding the bag together. In the bag was a small piece of carved wood, beautiful both to the eye and in the details.
Henrik was just like himself at that point, quite the artist with an eye for the beautiful things.
"A wolf," he stated, feeling the smoothness of the wood and elegant carvings between his rough fingertips.
"I made it just for you, Nik."
He smiled, genuinely happy for this small present that held so much sentimental value to him already. "Why a wolf, Henrik? Did I really scare you that much with the bedtime stories during the years?"
Henrik laughed, punching him on the arm and Klaus instantly faked a shriek, making his baby brother laugh even more. Their bond was the most symbiotic between all the siblings they had.
"No, Stupid! Because you are a wolf, Nik."
"Henrik, I don't howl when you listen to that hideous hip hop of yours! I simply yell at you to turn down!" Klaus laughed as he tickled his brother.
"Stop, stop! I surrender!" Henrik said between giggles until their father came into the hall, telling them to shut it.
They feared their father, but together they could laugh about situations like this one because it was simply just an innocent moment between two brothers and how on earth could a person be mad about that?
Accidently Klaus dropped the carved wolf, and Henrik glared at him as only a brother can; with a sour expression that between brothers secretly showed how much they cared about each other.
He picked up the wolf and gave it to his older brother again. "You're a wolf Nik, a lone wolf. Just like those I've read about in my books. You're misunderstood and you want to be a part of something. But Nik, you're the best brother I have. So you'll always be a part of me. But please don't tell Kol or I'm pretty sure he will beat me up with his bat!" Henrik whispered. "You don't have to keep it if you don't want to, I know you could make one yourself that's way better."
Henrik was about to turn around and run to his room upstairs, but Klaus stopped him, crouching before him and held the gift up between them. "Henrik, never think so low of yourself, okay? I will keep this because you made it for me and the best gifts are the spontaneous ones. I really appreciate it, baby brother. Now, go, do children stuff."
"I'm not a child, Nik! I'm nine!" Henrik teased before running off to his room.
Klaus rose again to fidget with the carved wood, surprised of how well his younger brother knew him. Henrik hadn't even reached his teens, but he had a capability to read people like open books and that was a true gift of his.
A lone wolf.
Misunderstood.
Part of something.
He was a lone wolf for sure since he wasn't the type to have a long term relationship. He had dated girls yes, but nothing serious. He very much enjoyed being himself; enjoyed the freedom in his own loneliness.
Like an omega wolf trotting through snow covered woods, observing packs from a distance; always left out and never a part of the big whole.
As for being misunderstood, Henrik was right about that as well.
Their father was obviously the biggest piece in that puzzle; ever since the Mikaelson's realized that Klaus wasn't Mikael's biological son, but the result of an affair Esther had kept a secret for all those years, Mikael could never look at him the same way again.
Their relationship suddenly changed to the complete opposite. Mikael would terrorize Klaus to the point where Klaus felt fragments of himself shatter into millions of pieces, the guilt of being another's son tearing up his soul and foundation.
During the years of psychological terror Mikael managed to build a rage inside of Klaus that didn't need much triggering before he exploded.
He wasn't proud of this rage he felt growing inside of him every day, and to conceal it he built a wall; a facade of disinterest to people around him. To all people but his siblings, Henrik especially.
To them he dared to show his old, loving, kind self because he knew he could trust them. They had shown him that multiple times during the years when they stood up for him whenever Mikael had one of his rage tantrums.
Usually it was Elijah who literally stood up between Klaus and Mikael to prevent a fight from happening, always being the moral brother to talk down their father, suggesting him to walk away and let off steam in another and more rightful way.
Sometimes during the darkest hours of the night, Klaus would find himself waking up, feeling a hole in his soul. A hole Mikael had left in him.
At some point he had finally realized what could fill up that hole: love.
Sure, he wanted to be a part of something, just like Henrik had just told him. But family was a constant. At least it was to Klaus and he knew his siblings would always be there for him. Okay, probably not Finn, but he wasn't worth it either.
It was a whole other 'something' Klaus realized he needed to fill up that deep, dark hole in his life.
Companionship.
Having something truly special with another human being that wasn't family, that didn't share the same, cursed, dark, gruesome blood as he did.
But being the omega, the lonely wolf, he may hoped for love to find its way to him, but didn't expect it; because who could love the beast? Who could love the wrong one? The wrong son, the wrong existence?
He fidgeted the wolf between his fingertips, watched how it had darkened in color over the years; felt how it still had that smooth feel to it that always seemed to calm him and gave him a sense of timelessness.
Henrik's gift always left him in his own little bubble and he'd suddenly realize that he had been sitting with the carving for a long amount of time.
Like now.
Caring.
"... Do better next time!"
He did care. He cared way too much.
But why would Caroline urge him to show it?
Growing up with siblings was the worst test for him and especially with this expanding need to hurt people, life just seemed so completely unfair and tragic.
While reading an old book about torturing methods used during the Middle Ages, that familiar sound of his older sister's bed banging against the wall kept occupying his, mind causing him toss the book onto the desk.
Whenever his parents weren't home, his popular sister didn't hesitate to invite guests over, especially male ones, to satisfy the post-teen need for sex, attention and acceptance. After the first five boys he had given up on finding out who they were and just prefered to spend his evenings locked inside of his room. Sadly her room was the one next to his, so it was inevitable for him to NOT hear her moans and curse words as said boys used her for nothing but release.
He had noticed that they didn't even stay with his sister, always climbing out the window and down the vines that grew up the house wall, leaving her alone after her own wish.
"If you ever tell mom or dad, I will kill you," his sister had once told him when he had asked about what boy that kept coming to her room whenever Elias and Dorthea Jones-Zervas were working, golfing, boating or at some cultural event because of their high status in town: "I'm 19, so I can fuck who I want to. And by the way, you're the biggest creep for even listening. Stop that or I will tell mom about that sick book you found at the Library!" she mocked him, pushing him into the wall, before going to her room to clean up after some copulation.
Anger rose like a fire within him. He hated her. Celena Jones-Zervas was known for her beauty; for her perfect grades; for her volunteer work at high school. But in the subculture of town all youngsters and teens knew her for her big, dirty mouth; for the fact that she continuously throughout high school had fucked the same teacher to earn said good grades and for screwing everything that gave her the slightest hint of attention; these were they boys who took the climb to her room window.
At several moments, like whenever their mother was around and Celena kept being in her good graces and living up to the 'perfect daughter' image, he found himself wanting to just make her shut it. To do something about that big, annoying, evil, cock-sucking mouth of hers.
Then, one day, in the book from the Library, he saw a picture that lead to great inspiration.
A picture of a jaw torn from the skull, resting beautifully on the top chest of the fine drawn body.
Okay so that was chapter two! I hope you liked it ;) And I also hope these flashbacks aren't too confusing to read because I love writing them: they give the story more depth I think :) Please leave a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Nat
