Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has read, favourited, and reviewed. I very much appreciate it. I'll be travelling for work, so the next chapter will not be posted for another 2-3 weeks. Also, from this point on, the story goes AU entirely.

Chapter 3: alas my love

Alas, by what rude fate
Our lives, like ships at sea, an instant meet,
Then part forever on their courses fleet.
~ Edmund Clarence Stedman, "Blameless Prince"

Sometimes, God help her, Caroline thought that she loved Tyler because she was supposed to love him. It was easy, natural, like breathing in the open, clean air after smog. Tyler understood and accepted who and what she was, because he had been there too; there had never been hesitation in that regard, as there had never been in her own acceptance of him. She could see past the bully he used to be, because he had been stripped down to the barest bones of existence, as she had been, and chose the light side.

He needed her, and oh what it was to be needed in this world when she'd only ever been second-best.

The way that he looked at her when he found Klaus's drawing, wounded in only the way that she could wound him. She wished she could take it back and hide the drawing beneath her stack of books or pile of clothes, where Tyler would have never ventured. In all her wishing, it almost never occurred to Caroline to wish that she had never kept the drawing at all.

Like now, when she sat with him on the bleachers of the abandoned gym and he noticed his absent charm bracelet which she had forgotten. Forgotten. If that wasn't a sign that something was rotten in the state of Denmark … her thoughts flashed back to the drawing and Tyler's expression. It was the first time she had seriously thought, coherently, that she should not have kept it.

"It's okay, Care," he protested when she fumbled her explanation. "As long as you like the bracelet."

Her eyes dropped to their twined hands. "Of course I love it, Tyler," she said again, eagerly like she had when he had first given it to her. She did love it, and her eagerness did not wholly stem from that drawing and dress and bracelet that she should not have kept. Caroline's lips pursed together in silent self-scolding, because remembering too that curious fluttering in her chest when she first unrolled Klaus's parchment. His idealised portrait of her and thanking her for her honesty, the straining jittery anger yesterday when he ordered her out of his home. But he'd revealed himself to her too, a glimpse of the long-dead past that had formed him.

As if that should matter.

I am Skuld, that shadowy, foreign voice whispered again in her head, drawing chills down her back. As it had so often since she stood before that old tapestry and listened to Klaus tell her about Norns and fates and world-building.

But Caroline shook her head. She had other priorities, such as quieting the unease of the boyfriend who had declared that he would fight for her. Her heart fluttered at that declaration too.

Such as the fact that Klaus's psychotic mother had herded them together, like cattle for the slaughter. And Matt and Jeremy had gone to help Elena. Matt and Jeremy.

Everything else seemed petty in comparison. Even creepy voices in her head.

So, she kissed Tyler because (for the moment) they were together and alive and she could kiss him, and never again worry about an accidental, but fatal bite, to silence any complaint about his missing charm bracelet and to soothe her unintended hurt away. The standard Caroline go-to method with Tyler. Even when she sometimes missed their talking, really talking, when she had just been his friend guiding him through a new existence with hope.

She was here with him and that was all that mattered.

Their 1920s finery looked startling, at odds with the spartan scenery of the abandoned gym. It was a perfect metaphor, she thought, for neither of them fit anywhere anymore. Even when they kissed, alone, almost desperately on those same bleachers like teenagers had always done, it felt like trying too hard. To fit into what they used to be.

She wondered if Tyler felt it too, even after breaking his Sire bond for her. It wasn't that she did not want Tyler. She did, almost as much as he wanted her. She burned beneath his eager, clutching hands, which seemed to need that flesh against flesh for the world to make sense.

But, acceptance did not equate belonging, not matter how hard she willed it. That was the gist of the matter. She still needed to feel that sense of belonging which had been hollowed out since the night of her death. Even as a human, it had been fleeting. For one brief moment before the accident that broke her life into carefully defined sections "before" and "after," she'd felt the stirrings of belonging. When she was just Caroline with a beating heart that Matt had almost loved.

Being needed in the peculiar way that Tyler needed her – helped.

Even if it was difficult to live up to, be the girl for whom someone tortured himself. It was a heady responsibility, smothering, which she both recoiled from and embraced.

But then, You mark my words … it won't be enough for you. How Klaus had scolded her for ruining his life. The audacity. That he could even mean it. She wished that she had not believed him. His words muddled her insides until the suffocation returned – which she tried to blot out with Tyler's kisses until she could not breathe and forgot that she did not need to.

She loved Tyler, because he loved her and it was selfish and she was selfish. But, when he pulled her into him and whispered hotly that he'd always need her, it didn't feel selfish at all. Even when she couldn't breathe.

"It would still be …" Tyler began, breaking away from her, his brow furrowed. Even when she had been kissing him, he'd still been thinking of playing the martyr, luring out Esther to wipe out Klaus – and himself. No one had ever really been eager to sacrifice themselves for her, not really, not when they'd been tested – and here was some sort of possiblity. Suddenly, it didn't seem so romantic.

"Don't finish that thought," Caroline scolded him. "Anyone dying is not a best case scenario, Tyler, especially you."

Klaus dying too, somehow that was not acceptable. When she thought of him the day before, when he had shown her some part of his past, when he had dismissed her. In a flash too quick to be remembrance, she saw him still tracing the lines of that faded tapestry in her head.

Do you believe in anything more powerful than yourself, Klaus?

I did once.

Did you?

But it has been a long time, love.

He'd lived for over a thousand years. Klaus not existing was somehow not acceptable anymore.

Just a snip and no more, a lifeline cut. It seemed crueller than hell.

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, his hat long discarded on the floor by her feet. "If we just knew that you would be safe," he insisted.

"I don't want a martyr for a boyfriend. That's not what I signed up for," she protested.

"None of us signed up for this."

"I know that, but this is not an acceptable solution." She stood and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look in her eyes. Ever since he bit her and she almost died, he was hesitant about meeting her eyes, even when she told him again and again that it was not his fault. Though now, she suspected that he hated that night for a different reason altogether. But, she could not put that reason into words, and she would not bring up Klaus now between them. "I need you," she said simply, authoritively.

Caroline wandered the hallways when Tyler left to check on Bonnie's progress. She had no wish to witness any macho territory contest between Tyler and Klaus, nor did she wish to distract Bonnie. The poor girl had enough pressure with the Salvatore brothers and Klaus breathing down her neck.

She also liked the bit of solitude that the hallways afforded. They were not so omninously big and echoing as the gym, which was filled with too many bad memories of high school events gone wrong. Honestly, why anyone chose this venue, why she chose this venue for the decade dance was beyond her at the moment. Had everyone (including herself) forgotten the absolute magnet the school had become for horrific dance disasters? Seriously, she should have had her head examined for agreeing to it. Even if there would have been less funds for decorations, they should have rented another place. At least, then, perhaps, they would have one high school memory without someone dying.

Unlikely. Given that they lived in Mystic Falls.

Still, a nice thought.

She rolled her eyes at their collective naïveté and tore down a poster urging students to break out their fedoras and flapper gowns for a night of 1920s reverie.

God, didn't that just sound tragic?

She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and rounded the corner, hoping that it was Tyler or Stefan with good news.

Instead it was Klaus.

His expression melted into a peculiar form of alluring, almost gentleness.

The ragged poster was still in her hands, so she moved towards the bin (closer to him, but that's not what she was doing, you know? – moving towards him). She missed the bin, which made her face burn. If vampires could blush. Could they? Anyway, clearly, her more concerning problem was that she missed the bin, because – weren't her vampiric skills supposed to prevent that? They usually did.

Except when Klaus was around they seemed to stumble out the door.

He looked down at the crumpled poster and back at her with a smirk on his face.

"Caroline, a lovely surprise as always."

She rolled her eyes. "Hardly a surprise – there are, what, seven people in the entire school?"

"Exactly," he paused, drawing too close to her even though he was still out of arm's length. She noticed the distance, because he was a predator and she was supposed to notice that, you know. He made her nervous. "I was under the impression that you were hiding from me?"

"Hiding? I don't think so," she scoffed, though she had made a concerted effort to avoid where he might be. But that wasn't hiding was it? "I was merely enjoying some alone time with my boyfriend."

"Right."

"What are you doing at a high school dance, anyway, Klaus? Isn't that just a little bit creepy?"

"Rebekah begged me," he replied.

"Creepy," she murmurred again.

"You look stunning," he said, drawing his eyes over her form and choosing to ignore her disparaging remark because it didn't suit him.

He was soo arrogant.

"Don't even," she began to protest.

"Am I not allowed to tell you how beautiful you are, love?"

"No, you are not, especially when you've been walking around torturing and terrorising people."

Klaus paused for a moment, as though weighing his options in how to respond. Then, he smiled in that smarmy way of his, "But I'm not torturing or terrorising anyone at the moment, Caroline."

"Hmph." She bit her lip to keep from smiling at him, because, really, when he chose, it was very easy to forget the monster he was. Even when he said outrageous things. "I told you that I was too smart to be seduced by you."

He seemed to enjoy her reminder, damn him.

She broke his gaze and cleared her throat. "How is the spell going?" she asked, eager for a change in subject. She turned back to the hallway, moving further away from the gym, but also further away from Alaric's classroom, where the Salvatores and Tyler and Bonnie continued their work.

When Klaus fell into step beside her, it occurred to Caroline that she had given him a opening, practically invited him to walk with her and keep her company. Why hadn't she dismissed him? She could have, should have walked away – you know, in the opposite direction. One glance at his profile showed that he realised the same, for his smirk remained, though it was different. He met her eyes briefly, his own glowing with a triumph she did not want to feel and she was certain that she must be blushing again. She did not want to seem that she desired his company, because she did not. Not at all.

She just felt immensely awkward for giving the impression that she did, in fact, want him to stay with her and talk to her. Civilly. Like he had tried to do during the ball and outside the Grill.

"Nothing yet," he replied, irritably, "though I have no doubt that your friend will come through for the doppelganger."

Well, that was charitable – for Klaus.

Their steps echoed too loudly down the corridor and each clip clop rang in Caroline's ears. Their feet were just out of sync, a cacophony of steps that set her nerves on edge that Tyler or anyone would hear them walking together, and come out accusing her of something, though she knew not what. She had done nothing wrong or anything to encourage Klaus. Not really. But the unease that she could do something wrong, that he would do so with her if she allowed it, alarmed her.

They neared the end of a hallway and Caroline led them to the left further away from the gym and classroom, without knowing why or even that she did it. If they kept going, taking lefts, they would circle the whole school and may not even meet one of their party. Surely that was wrong. She shouldn't be alone with him.

"Bonnie is a powerful witch," she said for the lack of anything else.

Klaus was evidently finished with this line of conversation for he did not answer. He seemed entirely content just to walk with her at the moment and stare at her profile, which was strange after their argument yesterday – when he accused her of ruining his life and had thrown a knife and kicked her out, and walked away from her at the dance. Not that she wanted him to do differently.

But she didn't understand him.

"What do you want with me?" she ventured, her confusion creeping into her softened voice. Afraid that anyone may hear.

He stopped and so did she, but he wouldn't look at her now. He looked everywhere else, down the hallway, the ceiling above her head, his brow furrowed in frustration that she just would not understand.

Because she did know, she did, what he wanted with her on some level. How he looked at her. Sometimes, it seemed plain as day. That she brought it up now when they could all be dead soon did not seem to surprise him. Not that he would accept that outcome, not for him or her for, or any of the other vampires at the moment – just to spite his mother. Except, what he wanted with her should not matter to her. Yet, it did – for the both of them – it mattered. Because every time that she saw him or heard him or about him the question rang in her head.

"I want," he began, returning his eyes to her, bluer and serious, like the night she had drank from him and he promised her a thousand birthdays, "to show you what the world could be."

She swallowed, nervously, overcome, because she was just eighteen, and beautiful words still affected her, whomever might say them. But, she could not be affected – with him. It was dangerous. This wasn't a romance novel and he wasn't some grey Byronic hero. "Don't say pretty things to me, Klaus," she replied, irritated by his fall back onto seduction. "You could say it to almost anyone. What do you want with me?"

His mouth snapped shut, his jaw working, and he looked away from her. "Will you never believe that I just fancy you, Caroline?"

"What does that even mean?" she asked, frustrated. "I don't know what it means with you."

He ran one hand through his curls, mussing them, and groaned. It was such a normal guy reaction from him that she just stared. "Are you seriously going to have a relationship talk now?"

"What?" she exclaimed, "No!"

"Then what are you talking about sweetheart?"

"There would actually have to be a relationship," she continued her train of thought, startled by his choice of words, "in order to have the talk."

Now he stared at her in astonishment.

Stop talking, Caroline, she scolded herself.

He did not immediately reply, and though his expression retained that strange seriousness that seemed to belong only to her, there was amusement as well. She amused him. He enjoyed her. She'd never been so aware of that fact until this moment she she had been deliberately goading him. "You make me crazy, Caroline," he said.

"Well, that is not a very difficult thing to do," she retorted petulantly.

He narrowed his eyes, and would have said something else, they heard the distant murmurings of Bonnie on the other side of the school, chanting. They could feel the power in it. So, instead of replying, he bowed to her, briefly, like a hero in a Jane Austen novel, and walked away in that direction.

Caroline frowned, feeling as though she had been dismissed, and annoyed by this sudden development between them. She was supposed to be the dismisser. Was that the right word? Was it even a word?

In any case, that was three times in the last two days that Klaus had walked away from her. Twice today, in fact.

And, she really should not be following him.

Damn him.

"Where do you get off saying that I have ruined your life? You are most certainly the villain here. You are the very definition of a villain," she called.

Klaus paused mid-stride, though he did not turn around. "That is quite the delayed reaction, love."

She caught up to him, glaring.

His eyes blazed, clearly relishing the sight of her anger. Even directed at him. That was not indifference, and she knew it. She hated that he knew it too.

"Caroline, love, as much as I enjoy our little spats, I was actually in the middle of something. So, if –"

"What? Scaring Bonnie into fixing your mother?"

He rolled his eyes. "Killing my mother preferably."

Caroline really did not know how to reply. She certainly wanted Esther dead. Permanently – as in not popping up now and then for her own special brand of genocide. Except Esther was his mother. She could not imagine ever getting to the point where she wanted her mother to die, or worse, killing her mother. Nor could she ever imagine dealing with parents who conspired for your demise for a thousand years. She pitied him for that.

It would make him seem more human, if his manner was not so flippant. His manner and tone in the most dire circumstances were too light and off-putting and dangerous. He never reacted as you expected, and though he seemed entirely aware of his effect on people, there was no hint of artifice. The natural predator, a feline grace aware of its attractiveness. Every part of his being played to that advantage.

And yet, he did not scare her now. At least not at this moment. Because he did not wish too. Even after she scolded him and rejected him. She remembered reaching out almost to touch his hand just the day before and how his unexpected vulnerability had moved her inexpressively. She could almost see it in him with his Perhaps one day, and that fleeting moment when he saw her turn the corner just now. That instant his face lightened. It made her breathless.

He moved towards her again and she was still thinking about the peculiar way he looked at her, could see it gliding into his expression again. Fascination. How could she fascinate him?

"Shouldn't you be with Tyler, declaring your undying love in the face of danger?" Caroline almost envied the dripping disdain in that one sentence. No amount of anger or disgust had ever enabled her to achieve that level of disdain in her voice. Yet, his rough, husky tone was especially suited for it. Even that was attractive. That she could recognise that trait as attractive, she would not concede aloud, even to herself.

Still, she rolled her eyes. Because wasting that much disdain on she and Tyler when his mother was still out there free? Sometimes, she swore, Klaus was just ridiculous. It was an uncomfortable, almost affectionate thought that she would never share with anyone, least of all him.

He still moved closer and she hadn't even noticed. His hand suddenly cupped her cheek and tilted her face up to his, and her chin jutted out towards him. She almost thought that he would kiss her, but his stare was still harsh, distant and close at the same time, if that was possible. She didn't know how he could touch her so gently and gaze at her like she was his last drop of blood and mention Tyler in the same breath. She couldn't think about Tyler now. The guilt would eat her up later, but she couldn't think about anyone else with Klaus so close that she could feel his unnecessary breath on her lips.

"I won't kiss you, Caroline, until you ask me too," he said as though he could read her mind. And maybe he had, pulling the flitting images dancing behind her lids. Those dangerous images she did not want to entertain or admit, that frightened her even for their existence.

She hardly knew how they had got from bickering to this. She swallowed and with some semblance of steadiness, she answered, "I'll never ask you too." She still trembled.

"You will," he insisted with an arrogance that would have made her snap, usually. Except now she felt girlish and breathless and something else she did not recognise.

He still smirked, but the corners of his mouth melted into that gentle smile again.

"I won't," she repeated, a little firmer. She hoped her voice was firmer, though she suspected that it was just a breathy and weak as she feared.

"Another time, love," he said, "when I am not so preoccupied." He moved out of her reach and for the third time that night walked away from her. Deliberate, solid steps, assured of himself and his place in the world. Even when his mother was trying to kill him.

He pulled at something inside her. She didn't know, could not feel what it was exactly, except that it disconcerted her. She didn't understand it. She didn't even like Klaus, not really, but she could not dismiss him as she should.

He rounded a corner and disappeared from view, but she still stared after him, trying to settle her thoughts, which she suspected were written plainly across her features. Confusion – like the confusion that Tyler called into question after her dance with Klaus.

She swore that the next time she saw Klaus she would be firm and unaffected and she would tell him to leave her alone forever. She would. Except, the next time she saw him, he saved her and she thanked him and felt his hand against her mouth for days.

Afterwards, much later, when everything was wrecked and she looked back to that moment in the hallway, she could not see it but as fate. Knowing what had been hurdling towards them had made every backwards glance seem somehow sacred – a lost time, an Eden even in all its perils and vampires and witches. Klaus's turning away from her in the hallway was a break in the path already set. Returning to claim his mother's body. Returning to save her. It seemed so incongruous an action. A turn and no more. All out of proportion. Even if it had been the closing of another chapter, the death of another world. And her life arranging itself around another point in time – "before" and "after" Klaus.