Notes: Another busy day for me tomorrow so another Thursday update! Next week's might be late since I am set to head out to a cabin next weekend. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! I appreciate your thoughts (and they might have nudged me into expanding a few things and adding a couple of sections to this thing). This chapter contains two of my favorite parts of this whole fic so I hope everyone else enjoys them too!

Chapter Six: Pull Me Out

She hadn't lasted long, after Klaus had left. She'd paced, alternately staring at the television, and the table that housed the remote, the offer, promises, he'd made swirling through her brain on a loop. Eventually, she hadn't been able to resist, her thirst to just know too great. Caroline had settled cross legged at the end of the bed, and turned the TV on.

Pulling up the footage had been easy. The menus were simple to navigate and the security feeds were helpfully labeled with Aurora's name, and organized into hour long chunks. She'd been able to fast forward through the first half-dozen. They only captured Aurora's still form in the frame, the utter lack of movement too complete for just sleep. It seemed like Caroline wasn't the only person who'd been brought into Klaus' home temporarily dead.

What did it mean that her cell was so much cushier than Aurora's? Caroline had a bed, natural light, amenities. Aurora was the bargaining chip, was she not? There wasn't much Tristan wouldn't do to ensure her safety.

It had been a fleeting thought, while she'd looked for something noteworthy from the videos. Finally, she'd spotted movement. Caroline had watched Aurora wake, and survey her prison. Her nose had wrinkled in distaste, and she'd sprung from the small cot making a disgusted noise. And then she'd started yelling. First for Nik, and then for Lucien. For Nik again, and again and again. There were some epitaphs for Elijah, some threats about what her brother would do when he found out she'd been mistreated and demeaned. Aurora worked herself right up, turning red faced and her voice pitching up into a painful screech.

Caroline had been forced to turn the volume way down.

And she had been confused because she'd honestly always kind of thought Nik was dead, and that Aurora continued to talk of him as some kind of weird coping mechanism. She was so dreamy, so besotted, every time she'd spoken the name, even though she'd claimed they hadn't spoken in centuries. How could that sort of obsession endure for a person still walking around in the world? Wouldn't Nik have come for Aurora, at some point, if he truly loved her like she said he did? Caroline assumed that he couldn't be with Aurora and that he must have been long gone.

But now, Aurora seemed to expect he'd suddenly materialize, and sweep her from her prison on horseback or something. Slay those who dared harm a perfect, red hair on her head, never mind the fact that her jailer wasn't easily taken down.

Neither man she called for turned up but still Aurora kept shouting. Calling for blood, screaming about how they would pay for this, diatribes about how dare they put her in such a place liberally mixed in. Quickly growing bored, Caroline had continued to fast forward.

Until another person had shown up. A blonde woman, wearing killer heels and a bored expression. She had stared Aurora down through the bars of her cell. Caroline had recognized her, hadn't needed Aurora's simpering greeting to place the youngest of The Originals. Aurora had run a hand through her hair, straightened her dress before smiling sweetly, "Rebekah! So nice to see you, don't you look lovely? It's ever so bold, to attempt that shade of green with your coloring."

They'd engaged in some impressive passive aggressive sniping, vicious taunts hidden under pretty words and compliments. Eventually Rebekah had walked away, leaving Aurora fuming in her cell.

She'd ripped her cot from its anchors in the stone floor in her temper, leaving the metal a gnarled heap when she was through. Caroline thought she'd come to regret that, as she doubted Aurora would be offered a replacement.

More fast forwarding was required, Aurora occupied with doing laps around the small room, muttering under her breath. It was somewhat interesting, to see her so out of sorts, her instability closer to the surface than usual. She gesticulated wildly, pulled at her own hair, dug her nails into her palms and smeared bloody handprints on the walls and bars. Aurora was capable of hiding what she could be. Most people were easily fooled by the sugar sweet exterior and unthreatening appearance.

And Caroline knew many a person had been lured to their deaths because they hadn't seen the madness that Aurora's perfect shell neatly concealed.

But there was only so much of Aurora's wild tantrums that Caroline was interested in watching. She wanted answers, and Klaus had hinted that she could find some in these videos. And he hadn't lied about their existence, or the mini fridge. Maybe there was something. And even if there wasn't, if this was a trick, it's not as if she had anything better to do. Caroline kept looking.

Eventually, Klaus himself showed up. Aurora's demeanour had changed drastically, the second she'd laid eyes on him, calming instantly. She'd licked her lips and slinked to the bars, hips swaying, mouth twisted in an alluring pout, "It's about time you came, my love. Are you here to let me out?"

He'd reached a hand through the bars, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Let his fingers linger on the curve of her neck. Aurora had leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Klaus had sounded regretful, when he'd pulled back. "I'm afraid I cannot do that. Not with your brother unaccounted for."

It was then that Caroline had been given a shock. Aurora's face had turned mullish, and she actually stomped her foot, "You cannot hurt him, Nik. The two of you need to stop this silly feud of yours. Honestly. It's been centuries. Can't we all just be friends? Family, like we were meant to be?"

And as crazy as that assertion was (seriously, where had Aurora been?) it wasn't the thing that left Caroline blinking in shock. It was Aurora calling him Nik. Nik, Aurora's Nik, was somehow Klaus?

She'd paused the video to absorb, to consider what the new piece of information meant.

The man Aurora had always spoken of, the great love of her existence, was Klaus Mikaelson. Not dead, obviously.

Caroline had difficulty reconciling what she knew of the two. Nik had been described to her as sensitive, tortured. Gentle and kind. The Klaus of her nightmares was nothing like that. And she'd yet to make up her mind about the Klaus who'd visited her a few hours ago. He hadn't hurt her, though he'd seemed to run through a fair number of emotions. They'd been fleeting, and hard to read but Caroline had seen them. Nevertheless he'd been in control of himself, calculating. Not the kind of guy who wrote love letters and picked flowers and promised happily ever afters.

She'd turned the video back on, wanting to know more.

They'd gone back and forth about Tristan for a while. Klaus prying - trying different angles from feigned concern to subtle threats - and Aurora either hiding her knowledge of her brother's plans expertly, or being entirely clueless. Caroline would bet on the latter. Tristan loved Aurora, deeply and to a degree that had always made Caroline a smidge uncomfortable. It was a possessive and controlling love, intense and seemingly suffocating, at least from Caroline's point of view. But he was well aware of her capriciousness, the uncertainty of her shifting moods. He wouldn't trust her with his schemes.

Klaus seemed to reach the same conclusion, steering the conversation away and towards Lucien. "You cannot be mad at me," Aurora had told him coyly. "You were ever so distant and a girl must keep herself entertained. Lucien understands what you mean to me. And he's a dear, and wants me to be happy."

But Klaus seemed unconcerned, and if he was jealous Caroline didn't detect a single flicker of it. He'd drifted closer, but not near enough for Aurora to reach out and touch him, his hands clasped behind his back. "Lucien told me you'd made the acquaintance of an old friend of mine. Caroline. He said he saw her at your home in Paris."

Aurora had let out a giggle, leaned in close, and gripped the bars. "Come now, Nik. We both know she was more than your friend."

"Do we?"

Aurora's words had dripped with mockery, "You got a bit infatuated, didn't you? Poor thing. You must have been frightfully bored, in that little town, to be taken by such a simple trinket. She's pretty enough, I suppose. And much brighter than Tristan assumed. Proved very useful. I don't blame you, my love. For taking advantage of a distraction in my absence."

"Yes, I'd gathered all of that," Klaus said dryly, keeping a careful distance from where Aurora was pressed against the bars. "I'm afraid the whys elude me, however."

Aurora shrugged, dismissive. "Tristan spotted her, recognized her, just after he defeated you. Took her, thinking she might know something that could help him track Marcel, or Freya, or any of your more dogged supporters. High pain threshold, that one. And stubborn. Impressive, really. It took ages for him to get even the littlest scream."

Caroline had fumbled for the remote, stabbed at buttons until the feed stopped, unable to hear any more at the moment. She'd swallowed hard, and felt as nauseated as she could ever remember feeling. Her eyes stung, moisture gathering.

God, she'd been so freaking stupid.

Klaus was telling the truth. He'd known her, before all of this. Aurora and Tristan hadn't. They'd never been her friends. She'd been a pawn in their sick little coup all along. They'd tortured her. Taken her memories. Used her.

How could she have fallen for it? She'd helped them, and they'd stolen everything from her. She wants to scream, or cry. Maybe punch a wall. But Caroline can't move, her muscles locked as she swallows convulsively.

She closes her eyes, tries to breathe through it. Control, she tells herself, mouthing the word but not making a sound. Get it together, Caroline. Control. You can't lose it, not now.

She repeats it, over and over again, until the words bleed together, a continuous hum in her mind.

Caroline startles at the soft knock on her door. She glances at the window, surprised to see it's gotten dark. She clears her throat, swipes at her face. She hadn't been aware of the tears falling, but her fingers come away wet. She calls, "Come in!" barely managing to keep the quaver under control.

The door opens and a woman Caroline's never seen before enters, a soft smile in place. Her eyes take in Caroline for a long moment but she's polite enough not to comment on what a wreck she must see, "Hi. I'm Freya. And this is…" Caroline looks past the elusive Mikaelson sister (Tristan had never managed to find a decent picture of her, and it had always bothered him) and she almost falls off the bed when she spies the other person in the room.

She recognizes the woman. Has seen those green eyes in her dreams, sketched and destroyed the lines of that face over and over again. It's not exactly the same, a little older, a few faint lines marking years and worries that hadn't been there before. Still beautiful, and achingly familiar. And watching her nervously. "You," Caroline breathes out in wonder. "I know you."

A laugh bubbles out of the woman, her face lighting up. And then she's hurrying over, flinging herself at Caroline with such force that had she been human it would have knocked her over. She's being squeezed, but she's not uncomfortable at all.

Something about this feels like home and her eyes close. She breathes deeply and returns the embrace gently.

The woman pulls back, her expression stern, "God, Caroline you scared the crap out of me! Klaus said you didn't remember!"

Caroline shakes her head, apologetic, and eases away slightly. "I don't. Not really. Actually, you should probably tell me your name if we're the kind of people who hug."

The woman's face falls, and she steps back, her hands balling at her sides. "I'm Bonnie. Bonnie Bennett. And yikes, it's really weird to introduce yourself to someone you've known since preschool." She offers Caroline a cautious smile, and Caroline finds herself returning it. Bonnie shakes herself, "Oh! Sorry. I am here for a reason. But what did you mean when you said you knew me?"

"I…" Caroline glances at Freya, who's backed off and is perched on the back of one of the armchairs. She's used to thinking that the Mikaelsons are enemies so the idea of letting something personal slip in front of one of them is daunting.

She's going to have to do it though. That conditioning had been purposeful and it's faulty. Caroline's refusal to entertain the idea that Tristan wasn't who he said he was had gotten her nowhere. She's got to start listening to her gut and her gut says that Bonnie is trustworthy.

Caroline takes a deep breath. "I have dreams. Sometimes you're in them."

Bonnie's eyes spark with interest, and she grins. "That's actually great news! Your memories can't be gone then, can they? And maybe I can help. I made a slideshow. It's probably not up to your standards, but Klaus was all 'chop chop!' and menacing. It's just us, in Mystic Falls. Your parents, all of our friends from when we were kids. Do you want to see it?"

Caroline nods, throat tight. Freya steps forward with a laptop, hands it to Caroline and retreats once more. Bonnie settles next to her on the bed, reaching over and tapping keys until an image pops up. It's a blonde woman, a baby in her lap, both covered in cake and grinning.

She knows even before Bonnie says anything, reaches out to touch with a shaky fingertip. "That's your mom. Liz. She was the sheriff in our town."

Caroline's next inhale is unsteady, and the picture fades into another one. A blonde toddler in a yellow dress, held aloft in a man's arms. "My dad?" She asks, just to be certain.

Bonnie nods, reaching out to take Caroline's hand. "Your parents got divorced. Your dad moved away."

Her next question comes out small, and soft, "Did they hate vampires?"

"They did. But they didn't hate you, Caroline," Bonnie rushes to assure. "You managed to prove that not all vampires were what they assumed. Turning made you better, strong. Made you realize what was important. It took me awhile to accept it, them too. But they came around."

"I want to see more," Caroline tells Bonnie, eyes trained on the screen. She watches intently, as the pictures come and go. She grows, goes through a pretty intense awkward stage, all gangly limbs and bad posture. She sees other people she recognizes, faces that had popped up in her dreams. They're young in the photos. Happy and seemingly innocent in stills. Bonnie narrates quietly, offers little stories. Tyler, her first love. Elena, their other best friend. Her little brother Jeremy, their friend Matt. Damon and Stefan Salvatore, the vampires who'd kind of changed their lives. And not always for the better.

She's silent for a long time, when the last image fades away. Until the screen goes black, the laptop shutting down. Bonnie stays put, her hand warm and wrapped tightly around Caroline's. "I want them back," she blurts out, turning to face Bonnie. It's more than a simple want, it's a need. A hole she can't imagine never filling. "Klaus said he had a witch friend," she says slowly, remembering his vow to help her. Caroline turns to Freya, who lingers near the door, words coming fast and frantic. "You're a witch, right? Powerful? Did he mean you? Can you fix me?"

Freya's sympathetic, "I am. And I could try, if you'd like. But I don't think he meant me." She nods at Bonnie.

Caroline turns back to Bonnie, eyes widening in surprise, "Huh. You're a witch too?"

Bonnie laughs. "Well, that's a good deal less skepticism than the first time I told you. Yes, I am. And I'm assuming that Klaus meant me, even if he and I are far from friends." Her tone makes it abundantly clear that she's not a Klaus fan. Maybe that was a witch thing. "Because while I hate to admit it, Klaus did kind of get you. He'd have known you'd be leery of a stranger poking around in your head. Especially now."

"Oh, I definitely am. But it really can't get any worse, can it? Worst case scenario, I lose everything, start all over. Been there, done that, doing it again really can't turn out any crappier, given what we all know, right?" She keeps getting louder, maybe a touch hysterical. Bonnie tugs her hand away from Caroline's, shaking it out. Caroline winces, not having realized she'd been squeezing, "Oops, sorry. Are you okay?"

"Fine, don't worry about it." Bonnie stands, faces Caroline. "Don't move, okay?"

Caroline nods, takes a deep breath as Bonnie's hands come up. She touches Caroline's head, her eyes going out of focus. A few moments of chanting and Caroline begins to feel pressure. Nothing unbearable, but it's not exactly comfortable or pleasant. Bonnie yelps, just as it begins to worsen, her hands dropping like they'd been burned. Freya rushes forward, "What is it?"

"A lot of magic," Bonnie says, her eyes turning stormy. "Like, layers. Fail safes. It definitely took time, more than one witch."

Caroline throws herself back on the bed with a groan rubbing her temples, "Ugh. Of course it did. Couldn't make anything easy, could they? You know, I never really liked them. Tristan and Aurora. And I always felt terrible about that. Am really regretting that right now."

A laugh bubbles out of Bonnie, and Caroline shoots her an annoyed glare. She claps a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. "Sorry. It's just… that was very you. And I've missed you."

Tears spring to Caroline's eyes once more, and she lets out a watery laugh of her own. She's spent so long feeling alone, unsure if she had a single connection out there to anybody who would even remember her, let alone miss her. "That's actually really nice to hear."

And then Bonnie's laugh turns strangled and she's hugging Caroline again. Caroline closes her eyes once more and breathes in, wrapping her arms around Bonnie's smaller form and committing this moment to her memory. When Bonnie pulls back she looks determined, and a little intimidating. Appearing, for all her diminutive size, like she's not someone you want to mess with. "I will fix this, Caroline. I promise. Just let me do a little research. Klaus has an insane collection of books. And I'm going to ignore the fact that he probably got a hold of most of them by really sketchy means. Because I love you."

"And I'll help," Freya says, smiling kindly. "Now, Klaus will be along shortly, to let you out of this room."

Bonnie makes a disgusted face, "Yeah, I had to drink his blood to get in here. Super gross, and kind of makes me wish I could be compelled to forget about it."

Caroline's eyes narrow, trying to process what that means. She's never had another vampire's blood (that she knows of, anyway) uneasy about the intimacy of it, considering that she was typically conning the vampires she interacted with. That she'll evidently be having some of Klaus' takes her aback. "Uh, what? Can't you just poof the barrier down? I don't know if you guys know this but bloodsharing is kind of a big deal."

Freya looks apologetic, and amused, "No. I'm sorry. Not with the spell I used. Klaus was the anchor. We're going to do a similar one when… well, when it's time."

Bonnie's brows are raised high, "Um, Caroline, what did Klaus say to you? About how you guys knew each other?"

"Nothing much. Just that he didn't do what Tristan said he did. That he knew me, before all this. Why?" Caroline glances at Freya, who's studiously avoiding her eyes. Bonnie looks like she's swallowed something sour, and is shifting awkwardly on her feet. "What?" she asks slowly. "What am I missing?"

Bonnie sighs, "It's… complicated. And I'm not even entirely sure about a lot of things. But trust me, you don't need to worry about drinking Klaus' blood."

"Too late," Caroline grumbles, crossing her arms. "Yesterday I was convinced he was going to torture me to death and today I'm supposed to happily guzzle his blood? Vampires only do that during sex, FYI."

Freya coughs loudly, turning slightly pink. Caroline winces, "Right, sorry. That's your brother so probably awkward to talk about." She looks at Bonnie for help, only to find her hiding a laugh. She swings an arm around Caroline's shoulder in a comforting gesture, "Don't worry, Caroline. You'll be fine. And you'll totally understand why this is funny once I fix your memories." Her expression turns mischievous, a wicked smirk tugging at her lips. "Or, hey, ask Klaus. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to explain it to you."

The witches can't seem to hold it together after that. And Caroline's left looking back and forth between the two while they giggle at whatever joke has gone entirely over her head.

She makes a mental note to get revenge at some point.

As eager as he'd been, to return to Caroline once his sister and Bonnie had left her, Klaus had made himself wait and give her time. He longed to push now that she knew some of the truth, but he sensed he would gain little from it, that Caroline would withdraw and keep her own counsel if pressed. Klaus stayed away, gave her some time to process, and occupied himself with his plans.

Both Aurora and Lucien's cell phones had begun ringing, not long after they'd breached Elijah's stone cell. Lucien had evidently played his part well (and had managed to kill the guards Tristan had on his tail neatly and without Aurora noticing). Calls and texts had continued to flash across the screens on the flight from Europe. Klaus knew Lucien was itching to answer, dying to taunt Tristan and make him suffer with the knowledge that his grip on the power he'd claimed was slipping.

Klaus had forbidden it, wanting to be safely ensconced in New Orleans. And he wanted Tristan to think that Lucien was also a prisoner, just in case they needed a little double dealing. To that end he'd sent a photo once they'd arrived, Lucien hung by his wrists, his neck at an unnatural angle. He'd protested, of course. But Kol had been too quick.

But he'd sent nothing of Aurora yet. Let Tristan stew, question the safety of his beloved sister. When the time came he'd send Kol and Rebekah, have them collect something of Aurora's to send to Tristan. They'd bicker, but it would keep them occupied. Rebekah would advocate ripping out Aurora's hair, Kol would likely favor removing a hand. As long as they got a clear video Klaus would leave them be.

He'd instructed Elijah to have another go at Aurora, talking only – to see if her hatred of his brother, and his meddling, would cause her to speak more freely. And, even if it didn't, watching her lose her composure while Elijah remained cool and condescending would at least be amusing.

And then he'd decided to check in with Kol and Rebekah.

Until they were needed, his youngest siblings were at loose ends and Klaus was growing impatient with them. Kol had been in and out of the house since they'd arrived – claimed that he was feeling out the remaining New Orleans covens, getting an idea of which would be amenable to supporting them in overthrowing Tristan. But Klaus hadn't seen much of his younger brother and that made him nervous. He sent Rebekah out to fetch Kol, see that he'd not gotten into trouble. She was incredulous at being reduced to errand girl, and had stomped out in a huff.

Klaus hoped Kol managed to mind his tongue, once Bekah found him. They'd not made any great effort to hide their presence in the city, the whole point being to draw Tristan to them. But a messy scene, something that had to be tidied, and hidden from the humans, was not something Klaus wanted to deal with.

Finally, Klaus had left Freya in charge of the Bennett witch, after he'd stopped by the room Freya used to practice magic in. He'd demanded the particulars of how Caroline had taken the things Bonnie had imparted – all the better to tailor his own approach. The witch had been close lipped, reluctant, but Klaus had gleaned enough to know that Caroline was softening. Hesitantly, and maybe a touch unwillingly, but that was to be expected. She had no solid memories of her own, and hundreds of lies and half-truths to work through. She'd never been one for blind trust, her natural intelligence and her life's experiences teaching her caution. There was no chance that all that she's learned recently would have done anything but heighten that tendency.

Finally, having run out of things to occupy his time Klaus makes his way upstairs, pointedly ignoring the amused expression Marcel does not bother to hide as they pass one another in the foyer.

Klaus knocks, waits for Caroline's call before he enters. She's curled up on an armchair, watching the TV. She turns her attention to him immediately, and Klaus is pleased that though she seems wary he detects none of the hatred, the frustrated, helpless rage that had been in her before. And her color's better, suggesting she'd at least fed. Caroline seems to struggle for something to say, her mouth opening and then snapping shut as she rethinks. Eventually she jerks her thumb towards the TV, "She's really not a fan of your brother, is she?"

Klaus smiles, chances a glance at the screen. Elijah looks as unflappable as ever, despite the fact that he's been at it for nearly an hour, asking Aurora calm, pointed questions and receiving nothing but vitriol about how he'd ruined her life, Klaus' life, and evidently the lives of a whole host of others, in return. "It's perhaps one of the few instances in which Aurora's reactions are perfectly reasonable," Klaus admits. "Spending a century compelled to believe you were another, living in fear the whole time, close calls in which you barely survived. All things Elijah caused, none very endearing."

Caroline blinks for several seconds, "That… does not sound like a fun time. And I should know, right? I guess ten years is nothing so I shouldn't complain, right?"

The joke falls flat, her tone laced with bitterness, and Klaus doesn't comment, save for a small smile. He gestures to the chair across from her, "May I?"

"It's your house."

"Ah, but it's your room. And what sort of host would I be if I took such liberties?" Klaus teases.

She rolls her eyes, but Klaus detects a hint of amusement. It's familiar, and edged in exasperation. Very much the Caroline he remembers. The one who'd often tried to hide her genuine reactions, and only show him those she believed to be acceptable. "Hate to be a broken record, but 'guest' doesn't really apply to those who've been kidnapped and held against their will."

Klaus settles into the seat, leans back and studies her. "I do intend for the unwilling portion of your stay to be as brief as possible. And, in my defense, I'm sure you can agree that the circumstances appear to be extenuating."

"Maybe," she admits grudgingly. "Still, don't expect a thank you fruit basket."

"Pedestrian. Not your style, Caroline Forbes."

She startles, at her full name, or maybe at the way Klaus had said it. With more affection, admiration, than he allows almost anyone else. He'd always been fascinated by her will, the grit and drive and ability to persevere that he'd not often glimpsed in others, even those much older than Caroline. It's still there, more apparent than ever, even if she doesn't know it. Klaus lets her reaction go without comment, knowing she'll not want to explain it. Her eyes narrow, fingers tapping against the arm of her chair. "I'm still not 100% sold on your version of events. I have questions."

She wouldn't be Caroline if she didn't. "I'd expect nothing less," Klaus tells her. "Ask away, sweetheart."

"You knew me," Caroline begins, the words coming slowly. "Before I left Mystic Falls, from what Aurora said?"

"Correct. I showed up just before your final year of high school, after you'd been turned."

Her nose wrinkles slightly in distaste, "Do you make a habit of hanging out with high school girls? Because that's a little weird."

Klaus finds himself chuckling, "No. Not before, or since. Unless you count Rebekah, I suppose, but she quickly grows bored with playing at school. It was somewhat inevitable as your friend Elena was what brought me to Mystic Falls."

"Still weird," Caroline deadpans, crossing her arms.

Klaus ignores the dig, to continue his explanation. "I had to return to break my curse, and become a hybrid. Elena, several of your friends were… involved in that." Rather unwittingly, and with great reluctance, but Klaus sees no point in rehashing the finer points at the moment.

"Doesn't sound like sunshine and rainbows," Caroline says knowingly.

She'd always been perceptive, "It was not. We were on opposite sides, for a time. You were dying, the first time we really spoke. My fault, if I'm being honest."

Her head tips to the side, chin coming to rest on her palm as her eyes remain focused, measuring. If she's looking for a lie she won't find one. "And why are you? Being totally honest, I mean."

Klaus shrugs, having expected the question, "Because I meant it when I said I'd return your memories, love. Lying would gain me nothing but a few days of your good graces. Besides, your dear friend Bonnie would eagerly and gleefully debunk any falsehood I told you."

Caroline seems to accept that, her posture relaxing slightly. "Well, clearly I didn't die."

Klaus smiles, "No. You asked me to save you, and I did. You were suffering from a hybrid bite, and my blood is the cure."

"Hybrid bite," Caroline repeats, growing accusatory. "Did you…"

"Not that time. Your boyfriend, Tyler, was a hybrid. He bit you, on my orders, as a test of his loyalty."

"Tyler," Caroline says the name almost to herself, like she's testing it out. "Bonnie showed me pictures. And he's popped up in my dreams."

Klaus perks up, at that new tidbit of information. Perhaps Caroline's memories weren't as deeply buried as Tristan had intended. He rather hoped so, that they could be restored before Tristan arrived in New Orleans one final time. She deserved that, to have a chance to confront him. "Dreams?" Klaus asks, leaning forward. "What dreams?"

Her face creases in embarrassment, like she hadn't meant to mention them. "It's nothing. Just… sometimes I wake up from a dream, and it felt so real that I'm disoriented finding myself in a bed. I wondered if they were memories, and it's looking like they might have been. I knew Bonnie's face and when she showed me the pictures so many of those people, my friends I guess, were familiar too."

"Is it always faces?"

Caroline shakes her head, "No. Sometimes there's no one there. It's just a room, sharp and detailed. Smells, sometimes. Or even activities. I remember running, at full vampire speed, whipping past trees and laughing. Eating a bunny, for some dumb reason. And there's one where I'm dancing, like really fancy expert dancing, with a guy who knows what he's doing. His face is never clear."

It's a struggle not to grin at that last sentence, to show just how pleased he is with it. There's a chance she's speaking of one of her friends, perhaps Stefan. The younger Salvatore is a passable dancer, certainly better than Caroline's peers, for all that he'd hated the activity. But somehow Klaus is sure that he's not the one Caroline's remembering. "Interesting," is what he says, striving for casualness. "And curious, as you and I once attended a ball."

"A ball?" Caroline repeats skeptically.

"Yes. Thrown by my mother. A tedious attempt to exterminate her wayward children. You wore blue. And diamonds. We danced."

Caroline lets out a small disbelieving noise, "You think you're the guy in my memories? Ego much?"

"To spare," Klaus agrees, unashamed. A thought hits him, and he unfolds himself from his seat, pushing it and the table into the wall. "In fact, let's do a little test, shall we?"

"What kind of test?" Caroline wonders, brows high as she watches him clear furniture away.

"Dancing. The steps. It wasn't a simple waltz in your dream, I imagine. Something a little more complex. I'm wagering I know them." Klaus stops in front of her, holds out his hand. "Dance with me, Caroline."

She eyes his hand, obviously struggling with whether to take it. Her curiosity is warring with distrust, the battle plain on her features. Klaus decides to sweeten the offer. He pulls his hand away, swiftly bites into his wrist and speeds over to a glass. He lets his blood drip in, enough to let her out of the room, and offers it to her as he approaches her chair once more. "So you can flee if I step on your toes," he jokes lightly.

Caroline takes the glass delicately, careful not to touch him. She looks down at her lap as she brings it to her lips. Klaus turns away, hiding any reaction to the sight, his fists clenching momentarily. He's deeply regretting their current circumstances, would like nothing more than her fangs buried in his skin right now.

He has very fond memories of the last time he'd had the pleasure.

He waits until he hears her stand and set the glass aside, glances over to find her licking a drop from her lower lip contemplatively. She meets his eyes for a moment, her cheeks going slightly pink. Caroline clears her throat, shifting her gaze so she's no longer looking directly at him, "I've had your blood before," she says slowly. "To cure a hybrid bite, like you said."

"More than one."

Caroline's face twists, "That sounds painful. Werewolf bites are supposed to be an awful way to go."

"And hybrid venom is exponentially more so."

"Past-me had seriously questionable survival skills," Caroline muses. She holds her ground, as Klaus draws nearer, her spine straightening and chin lifting. He moves slowly, taking one of her hands and setting it on his shoulder. She doesn't pull away, merely shifts restlessly when he sets his palm on her waist.

"Not a point I can argue," Klaus replies softly. He'd often thought the same thing, mystified by Caroline's willingness to take risks for people who didn't deserve her loyalty. He takes her free hand and draws her closer, watches her face intently as he speaks, "Except to say that it wasn't death on your mind, when you asked me to bite you that last time. Nor was survival what you were after when you sank your fangs into my throat. Not with the way your thighs tightened about my hips."

Caroline's jaw drops, a gasp emerging, and Klaus grins and easily sweeps her into the dance. She's blinking rapidly, stuttering out bitten off syllables and shocked noises. Her mind's racing but still she dances, her movements unthinking, automatic, following his lead beautifully, even without the benefit of music. The steps aren't typical, like he'd said, but she knows them, and it's not until he spins her, pulling her back into his embrace that she manages a coherent sentence, "So you're saying that we… you know."

Klaus can't resist taunting her, "Not certain what you mean, sweetheart."

Her nails dig into his shoulder, and Klaus winces exaggeratedly, "Careful now. I'll heal but walking downstairs with my shirt torn to ribbons will invite all sorts of questions. My siblings are awfully nosy."

Caroline brushes that away, "Please. You've got to have a room somewhere. I'm sure you can sneak better than anyone else in this house." She flounders for a moment, and Klaus can feel her nerves in the tension of her muscles, the rigidness of her spine. "I thought you said we were enemies! And now you're implying that we…"

Klaus pauses, and Caroline stumbles into his chest. "Were enemies," he stresses. "And then we were friends. And for one very long, very satisfying, afternoon we were more than that."

Caroline's forehead creases, her brows drawing together, "So sex? That's all it was? I guess I can see that. You're attractive, we're vampires..."

Klaus shakes his head, and steps to the side, Caroline's body once again flowing perfectly with his. "That's all it could have been, at that particular moment. But we're immortal, love. Things change. I had every confidence that it would be more than just a stolen moment at some point. And I was reasonably certain that whatever feelings you had for me were far more complicated than you ever would have admitted."

She's quiet, staring at a distant point over his shoulder. Her body remains slightly stiff, the distance between them more formal than it had started out as. Klaus sighs, and executes another spin, more complicated than the first. He slips behind her, rests his hands on her waist, pausing her motions. "But of course that's only speculation on my part."

Caroline swallows audibly, but doesn't reply. Nor does she attempt to pull away from him, and Klaus will count that as a small victory. "You're free to leave the room," he tells her. "Wander anywhere you wish on the grounds. I'm afraid I can't let you leave the property just yet. Tristan can't enter, but it's entirely possible he's got people lurking in the city."

Caroline nods, and inhales shakily. "This is just… kind of a lot," she says, a note of apology there.

One Klaus neither needs nor wants. "I understand, Caroline. You needn't feel guilty for a thing. Everything will sort itself out. I will ensure it."

She nods again, steps away from him, taking a few steps towards the door. She stops when Klaus speaks again, "This room remains safe for you, sweetheart. You and I can enter freely, my siblings and your friend Bonnie. That's it. And they'll not disturb you, should you decide you need some time to sort out your thoughts."

Caroline turns to look at him, an expression of guarded gratitude on her face. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, "Thanks. And, in the interest of honesty, you might have been right."

"About?" Klaus asks, mostly because he wants to hear her say it.

"You being the mystery dancer guy."

Klaus smiles at her, and walks over so he can escort her out the door, "It would be a travesty if I didn't know what I was doing, at my age, don't you think? But I'll accept the compliment, of course."

Her reply, and a tiny amused snort comes immediately, arch and dryly amused, "Geez, you really don't try to hide the ego thing, do you?"

Klaus laughs, and Caroline joins in. She doesn't startle when he rests his hand on her back, doesn't resist when he steers her in the correct direction. She listens as he explains where they're going, gives her a general layout of the house and its current occupants.

It's progress, more than he'd hoped. He's eased Caroline's fear of him and gained a tiny bit of trust, if Klaus isn't mistaken. It's all he can do, for now.

He'll have to pay a visit to Bonnie later. Impress upon her how important it was that she work quickly. Because while Klaus enjoys Caroline's company, he can't help but feel like something's missing. He'd always knows that she'd be different, when they next met. She'd settle in some ways, grow in others. And she has, but it doesn't feel authentic, with their shared experiences erased. He wants to give them back, and he'll stop at nothing to make sure that he can.