IV. Glad You Came

I'll take you by the hand

Hand you another drink

Drink it if you can

…

Stay with me I can make,

Make you glad you came

I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Why haven't I left yet? Why am I not actually surprised that I dreamt of Klaus? Why attack that man? What am I trying to prove? That it's not as bad to crave the darkness if you're in it?

I feel like I should avoid Klaus as much as possible, after what happened yesterday.

But I don't.

So when he asked me if I would come with him tonight to the home of an old friend of his—Marcel, I think his name was—I said yes. He didn't mention yesterday, or the man, though I know he must have seen me, none of it.

Now I'm trying to figure out what to wear. Everything in my closet looks like I dug it out of freaking Richard Simon's wardrobe today. I shouldn't care. I shouldn't be going in the first place.

I decide on a flow-ey black mini dress, with crochet flowers all over it. I wear my hair down. I'm nervous. My hands are shaking.

There's a knock at the door and I jump. Chill the fuck out, Caroline. "Come in." I call. Klaus strolls in, wearing jeans, a vee neck tee, and some ridiculously expensive-looking blazer. I am so screwed. "You look stunning, love." He says, all silk and honey, reaching out and trailing his hand down my arm. Goosebumps rise on my arm, and I don't want him to see, so I turn quickly and search for the right shoes. "Did you want something, Klaus?" I blurt, angrily. I still haven't really forgiven him for what he did yesterday, compelling me. Like it was nothing. And his ability to make me shiver like that in spite of my anger.

"Oh, it's nothing really. There's a Guatemalan fellow waiting downstairs in a taxi, but I'm sure he can wait"; I roll my eyes. "Some things are more important." He continues. He points to a pair of strappy silver pumps I have lined up in the closet. "Those." It's not really a suggestion, so much as a command and I really want to refuse, just to piss him off. But they are perfect. I sigh and yank them on, grumbling to myself.

We've finally arrived, and I could not be happier to have an excuse to get wasted. There's flashing lights, bass driven music, and trays going around with all sorts of strange looking, Technicolor drinks everywhere. This is a party.

Almost everyone here looks to be vampires, and it makes me somewhat nervous. I've never seen so many at once. And those who aren't vampires, humans, are either walking around dazed, compelled, being fed on—in public—or, strangely enough, look like they know what's going on, and don't care, excited and a little bit afraid, like being right up against the bars of the lion's cage at the zoo. But there are no bars here, they're in a slaughterhouse.

The scent of blood is in the air, like a sweet perfume, and I grab a drink off the nearest tray. Klaus has my elbow and is leading me through the crowd, looking for his friend I guess. I don't mind, not really. I don't want to be alone here, I'm far too sober.

A lithe, black man with a shaved head and trimmed facial hair comes up to us, throwing his arms up in welcoming. "Klaus! My mentor, my sire, my friend!" Klaus lets go of me to embrace him. "Marcel. It's been too long, friend." Marcel looks at me from over Klaus's shoulder and raises an eyebrow. "And who is this?" He asks, pulling away from the hug. His eyes are so full of mirth it's uncomfortable.

Klaus turns to face me, taking my hand, and pulling me forward a bit. "This," He says, squeezing my hand lightly "—is Caroline…" He wants to say something else, I know he does—a qualifier, something to label me untouchable to anyone else—but he refrains, and I'm grateful. I don't think it would go over well if I attacked him here.

I do a little wave, feeling awkward. Marcel doesn't respond for a moment and tension rises in the air. "Well. Any friend of Klaus is a friend of mine!" He throws his arms around me and it startles me. I hear something that sounds like a growl come from behind me, and Marcel chuckles. "Some things never change." He laughs, stepping backwards.

I feel like I'm out of the loop.

I look from Klaus—who seems to have been put off by something—to Marcel and want to say something to break the tension. "So how long have you known Klaus?" I ask, genuinely curious. Klaus answers for him, "Over a century, love." I grimace slightly. It sounds so much more wrong to hear him call me that in public. "That long?" I giggle, "So how many times have you tried to kill him? I think the family record is eight."

Marcel laughs a deep, resonating sound. "I like her!" He laughs, clasping Klaus on the back. Shit. He looks mad.

Klaus puts on a toothy grin that looks more threatening than happy and replies, "Yes, well that makes two of us." He puts an arm around my waist, pulling me to him, a possessive gesture. Then the weirdest thing happens. Klaus and Marcel seem to have a flipping staring contest, with Klaus's arm stiff around me, and a static sort of energy in the air. Just as quickly as it started, it stops, and Marcel chuckles, tells us to enjoy ourselves, and that he'd find Klaus later, 'to catch up'.

"What the hell was all that about?" I hiss, moving out of his reach.

"I can't say I know what you mean. I met and old friend, said hi, and now we're free to join the festivities." He answers, grabbing a drink off a passing tray.

"That thing that just went on there, with the staring, and the grabbing, and the weirdness, you know what I mean."

"Oh, that. That was—marking my territory." He says, casually, taking a sip of his drink. "Your territory," I repeat, dumbfounded. Me, he means me. "I am not your property, Klaus." I narrow my eyes and toss back the entirety of my drink, placing it on the nearest tray. I flip my hair over my shoulder and huff, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I came out to have fun tonight. And I can't see that happening with a grumpy Original keeper." I walk away from him, and I'm so giddy at the thought of the look on his face that I don't even think about where I'm going or what I'm going to do.

"Ouch. That has got to hurt." Comes a voice behind me.

"Hello, Elijah." I smirk, turning towards him. "I'm not worried. She'll come around eventually. I always get what I want, in the end."

"Maybe more than what you want." He hedges, and I look at him curiously. "Come, brother." He says, gesturing for me to follow him.

He takes me to some abandoned cemetery building, and I've had enough of these games. "Enough, Elijah, why am I here? What's going on?" A woman walks into view, around the decrepit building. Her. I recognize her. Hayley, a wolf I had sex with, one drink-fueled night all those weeks ago. "What is this, then?"

Elijah gestures Hayley forward, and she speaks, arms crossed. "Look, this past week has been hell for me, so I'm just going to say it. I'm pregnant."

"And what concern of that is mine?" I demand, stepping forward. "It's yours, brother." Elijah answers.

I laugh. What kind of joke is this? "You can't be serious. Vampires don't procreate."

"You are not all vampire, Niklaus. It's true, brother. Listen."

I narrow my eyes, but unconsciously do as he suggests, my hearing picking up on a tiny, rapid heartbeat underneath the wolf's own. Anger overcomes me. Everything has been going so well. This can't be. I swiftly put my hand over the wolf's throat, shoving her up against the wall. I hear Elijah shouting for me to stop, but I ignore him. "LIAR." I roar, "Who else did you sleep with, huh? Who the fuck's pup are you trying to put on me?" I squeeze, hard, and briefly imagine myself snapping her worthless, lying neck.

"No one!" She chokes out, "I swear! It's yours; I just—can't do this on my own! I-I—" Twin steams of tears are running down her face. I hear the truth in her words and a strange tight feeling in my chest burns as I realize that this is real. I slam her head against the wall. I smell blood. She just won't shut up.

Elijah wrenches my hands off of her, and I let him, unsure of what I'd do to her otherwise. I don't want this. "Klaus, enough." He growls.

He places her gently behind himself and approaches me. "Niklaus, you have a duty now, to someone other than yourself. You can't run from your problems, not this time." He's right.

"Right you are, Elijah." I murmur, and see him visibly relax. "However—what I can do, is kill her." I rush forward and am met by the wall of my brother, pushing against me. I grab him by the collar and toss him, throwing him into a large oak tree. I advance on Hayley and she backs up, tripping slightly before breaking out into a run. Silly girl.

I speed in front of her, and she gasps, turning and running back in the opposite direction. I'm just about to reach her when she disappears.

"You cannot kill her, Klaus, I will not allow it." Elijah shouts from a tomb above me. I look up, and he's grasping the wolf, making sure she doesn't fall. "You think that's going to stop me?" I taunt.

He sighs. "No." So he hasn't lost his mind after all. "But I think I know what will." I leap up to the peaked tomb entrance, balancing easily. "What are you playing at, Elijah?"

"Tell me, does Caroline know about Hayley, at all?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "She certainly doesn't know about the pregnancy. How would she feel, Klaus, if she found out that you learn a girl is pregnant with your child, and you try to kill her? How many decades would that set you back—how many centuries?"

"Don't you dare threaten ME." I bark.

"I do not wish to, brother. But you are quite impossible to reason with. I cannot have an unborn child and its mother murdered because you aren't willing to accept responsibility."

There is a long pause, in which I try to come up with any way out of this that does not involve killing my brother.

I glare at the wolf, and hiss at Elijah, pointing a finger at her, "I want nothing to do with it."

He nods his head and says softly, "We will see."

I'm slightly tipsy. I giggle to myself. I used to be the kind of person that would lecture someone to death for drinking in a strange place, with people you don't know. But I'm different now. I'm not so afraid anymore.

A man comes up to me, all arms and legs and shaggy blonde hair. "You look beautiful." He says, and I can't help but inhale at the very human scent of him. "You smell beautiful." I reply, laughing. He grins. "I'm Jared." He says, extending his hand. I take it. "Caroline." His eyes sparkle. "Caroline, you want to go somewhere a little quieter?" He sweeps three fingers on the side of his neck, and I think it must be a gesture used here. Yes, please.

I've heard from Stefan that some vampires find humans that like being bitten. They get addicted to it, and nobody really cares that they know the secret because they would never jeopardize their fix.

I'm thinking that that's what Jared is, as he leads me through various hallways to an empty room. It's dark in here, and I know he can't see. He doesn't really need to, I find out, there's not much furniture here, a few odd chairs and lounges, but the majority of the space is taken up by massive pillows, absolutely covering the floor.

He falls back onto the pillows, getting up on his elbows to sweep his hair off his neck. I'm paralyzed by the sight of it, by the thought of the blood. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I'm about to say so when Jared calls out to me, "Come on, no need to be shy, Caroline. Take a taste, I won't bite."

My resolve, shaky to begin with, crumbles, my fangs lengthen, and I drop down to his body.

I've spent the past hour drinking heavily and looking for Caroline. I don't really know why. I just need to see her. Need to look upon her face, to know I still have her.

I stumble a bit and I realize that I'm more intoxicated than I thought.

I wander the grounds, eventually coming to a door, the scent of blood lingering just beyond it. I open it without thinking, and there she is, my angel of light, gulping down the blood of some blood-junkie, her dress ridding dangerously high up her thighs.

"Caroline." I blurt out, and it takes a moment for her to stop, and turn around. "Klaus?" She says, licking her lips clean, and I have the strongest urge to do it for her. "Where have you been?" She asks, her pretty mouth frowning slightly. Her eyes fade back to her natural, perfect green slowly.

"No questions about that, love." I move to sit next to her and she scrambles off the Junkie, grabbing a pad of gauze out of the box on the nearby couch. She hands it to him, and he presses it to his neck. His eyes are glazed.

"This is James." She says, gesturing. "—Jared," he corrects her, but she doesn't acknowledge it. He gets up, smiling and heads out the door, and "You two have fun!" He calls back, closing the door and Caroline's sweet face scrunches up.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," I start, "he is not a blood bag. Technically." She shoves me good-naturedly, and giggles. "Don't ruin my blood high, Klaus." She leans back on her elbows, and I have to remind myself that I'm not thinking straight. "I'm on vacation." She justifies.

"Do you know what a blood high is, sweetheart?" I say, catching sight of a spare bit of blood that she neglected. "It takes a lot more than one thin boy to trigger it." She looks at me sideways, smirking "I think you have a much higher tolerance than I do, Mr. Runs-with-Rippers." She has a point.

I move closer to her, tilting her face towards mine gently. "You have a little something, right here." I say, tracing the mark of blood gingerly with my finger. I can feel her jaw moving as she swallows. "Is that our thing now?" She mumbles, her voice slightly airy.

"Allow me." I lean in, and dart my tongue out to lick at the stain. She shivers, and says hoarsely, "You're drunk." Incredibly so. I smile, dragging my tongue against the side of her mouth again. Her eyes close.

"Are you afraid you'll take advantage, love?"

I lick the length of her bottom lip, then take it into my mouth and bite down, careful not to draw blood. She inhales and her mouth opens, and I press my lips against hers, hungrily, tired of waiting.

She's intoxicating. Her mouth tastes like his blood and I devour it, trying to burn into my memory every motion that makes her breath hitch, every feeling, everything. I twist my hand through her hair, pulling, holding her in place, using my other to press her body against mine. She tries to pull away but I don't allow it, and it's not until my kiss wanders to her jawline, and we're both panting that she is able to voice her concern.

"—Klaus," I crush my mouth back to hers, forcefully, painfully, urging her to give up. She does, kissing back with fire, gripping on to the back of my neck, my back.

I feel like I'm running out of air, though I don't need it. Something in the back of my mind is telling me that I should stop this before it gets too far.

Caroline's hand wanders to my thigh, and I realize that if it goes much farther, I won't be able to stop it.

I pull away, holding her still for a moment so that I don't have a temptation to change my mind. I'm able to calm my breathing before she is, so I simply watch her, observing. She's looking at the ground; probably horrified at herself. I embrace her, feeling her small rib-cage expand and contract quickly. I kiss her softly on the mouth, trying my best to behave.

"Let's go home."

AN: This one's a bit longer. Good thing? Bad thing? I have no idea, tell me.

The addition of Hayley will have some messy consequences, so if you do have a passionate moral stance about pregnant women in fiction, you should probably stop reading.

Tell me what you think. Much love-Midden.

Reminder: Klaus is meant to be dark. Lying, killing, tricking, all very Klaus-ey things.