Morning stories

"Well, well, well, and what do we have here?"

She stops in the doorway and turns. "Rebekah" she sighs feeling resigned to whatever taunting the youngest Original has in store for her.

"A former Miss Mystic Falls sneaking out of my brother's bedroom before dawn," Rebekah looks delightedly mischievous. "Scandalous"

"It's not what it looks like ok," she says and when the blonde raises an eyebrow she clarifies. "I didn't have sex with him."

"Oh I know that," Rebekah dismisses with a wave of her manicured hand. "Or I'd have been kept up all night listening to you screaming his name. Women always do with Nik."

She's ignores the sudden flush she feels at the reminder and is readying herself to make some dismissive retort when she sees something playfully malicious touch Rebekah's eyes and the blonde speaks first. "But then you know all about that don't you?"

She closes her eyes in frustration, she'd forgotten that Rebekah knows about her indiscretion with her big brother. "I'm not having this conversation, I have to go"

As she leaves the house Rebekah falls into step beside her and resumes talking. "I'll walk you, we should chat"

"Seriously? Why?"

"Because" Rebekah answers thoughtfully as they make their way down the mansion's impressive drive. "If you'd just been here for a shag that would have made sense but you're sneaking into Nik's room for what, companionship, solace? That's far more intriguing"

"God, I came to say thank you ok?" she really just wants to get away from Rebekah now and forget his awkward encounter ever happened. "I was tired so I fell asleep. No big deal"

"Hmmm," the blonde hums. "Well I suppose thanks were in order, Nik risked a hell of a lot to get you back"

"I know" her voice comes out far softer than she intended and the tinge of wonder in it isn't lost on Rebekah who's own expression softens.

She thinks about what he risked and she knows it wasn't going against Silas, or the chance of being trapped on the other side that his sister is talking about. She'll never be able to ask Klaus about it so perhaps seeing Rebekah this morning might hold an opportunity after all.

"Rebekah?" she says carefully. "Can I ask you something?"

The original makes an unbothered face, which she takes as an invitation to speak.

"Mikael?" she makes that hated name a question.

"Ah?" she can tell this isn't what Rebekah expected and yet the blonde seems to understand. "Ok, ask away"

"So Klaus is the baddest of the bad, right? Most powerful creature on the planet, laughs in the face of danger blah, blah, blah"

Rebekah looks disdainful. "So he'd have us believe"

"But he didn't laugh in the face of Mikael." She shakes her head, this has been buzzing around in her mind since she got back. As she'd lain awake last night in her own bed, she'd thought of how rigid he'd been with fear, how he'd faltered under his father's abusive words. "I never thought I'd see him scared of anything, but," She pauses; it feels raw to say this out loud, personal somehow. "He was so afraid Rebekah, I could feel it."

Rebekah looks at her with sharp appraising eyes for a moment. "Some things just run too deep I suppose," she says eventually. "I don't generally share my brother's secrets but as he does seem so inexplicably fond of you I'll tell you

"Mikael was cruel and violent with all of us," Rebekah says her eyes on the road as they walk. "But he was especially vindictive with Niklaus. Whatever happened, whatever went wrong it was always somehow Nik's fault. I don't remember a time when we were children that he wasn't black and blue."

They pass a bench in the town square and Rebekah sits down, staring into space, eyes looking far into the past, shuttered and unknowable. She sits too as the original continues. "He was just a child and Mikael would beat him so hard I was often afraid he would die."

Her heart tightens with compassion and she tries to picture Klaus as a beaten frightened child. It's not as difficult as she'd have imagined, she has, she realises now, seen the shadows of it in his eyes.

"Do you think he knew?" she asks, searching for a reason for such cruelty. "That Klaus wasn't his?"

Rebekah looks at her for a moment still unnaturally cool considering the subject. "No" she says eventually. "I think he just hated him.

"Mikael was a brute," Rebekah explains and finally emotion touches her eyes. "He wanted a warrior and he got an artist." Her expression turns fond. "When we were little Nik would carve these tiny figurines for me out of maple. Father would beat him horribly for it. I begged him to stop," a smile flickers over Rebekah's red lips. "But he knew I loved them so he never did."

She can feel a frown deep between her brows; it's so strange to hear Rebekah talk about her brother like this when they're so often at each other's throats. The original notices and snorts. "Make no mistake Caroline, Klaus have given me plenty of reasons over the centuries to hate him but there are times when he's the brightest thing in my life."

Rebekah stands suddenly her movements a little jerky, embarrassed, like she's said too much, she probably has. "Right," the blonde says her tone turning catty and defensive. "You should shower, you'll want to wash off the smell of my brother's bed before you see your boyfriend."

That makes her cringe inside. God she hasn't even thought of Tyler, she's been so lost in Rebekah's tale and before that, if she's honest, so lost in Klaus' arms. "Thanks for the advice" she retorts and turns to go.

"And Caroline," Rebekah's voice is chilling as it stops her and she turns with a prickle of fear to look at the original. "Nik isn't as tough as he makes out, so don't toy with him," it's unmistakably an order and she's more than willing to acquiesce without the threat that follows. "Because if you hurt him I'll make sure they can't find all the pieces when they bury you"

She scrubs extra hard in the shower and layers on lotions and perfume. If Tyler caught the faintest whiff of his sire on her she knows he'd completely lose it, she'd sensed the tension in him last night at the mere mention of the original and she's afraid of where his hatred might lead. Her best recourse, she decides as she approaches Tyler's house, is to keep his mind off Klaus.

Tyler has gone to town on the breakfast; the smell of pancakes, coffee, and most enticingly, bacon, draws her to the kitchen where he's bouncing around in the bright morning sunshine.

He kisses her and spins her round and she laughs like a child in the glow of his enthusiasm. It's a perfect morning filled with laughter and lingering kisses and so much love between them that she thinks he must surely be her other half.

Except, that when they sit together on the sofa and lose themselves in endless kisses her mind wanders. She thinks of Klaus, and of Rebekah's story, of an abuse that started a millennium ago and has hounded him literally and emotionally for centuries. He's the very definition of damaged goods and that should make her more wary than ever but instead it makes her hurt inside for him and makes her arms, even as they wrap around Tyler, ache to comfort him.

They make plans to meet the gang for lunch at the grill and she leaves ahead of Tyler wanting to check in with her mom the way. But her mother is AWOL and she ends up getting there first.

At the bar Kol and Klaus Mikaelson are talking and languidly sipping neat scotch. God he looks good, why does he always have to look so good? The thin material of his Henley clings to the lean lines of his body like a lover and she can imagine the heat of him from across the room, that unnatural werewolf heat that contrasts so starkly with the own unnatural coolness. His lips form a smile around the rim of his glass and Jesus she's still just standing there like a freak watching him.

"Caroline," Kol greets bombastically and raises his glass to her. "My fellow survivour"

She walks over to the pair, tensely avoiding looking at Klaus. The intimacy of the night before bangs about in her head making it impossible to face him. "You'll have a drink with us darling?" Kol tips his head to his brother. "Nik's buying"

Now she has to look at him, but where she thought there would be an awkward intensity there is just an eye roll and a feigned reluctant sigh. "So it seems," he says easily and smirks at her. "My brother is determined to drink the whole town dry before he finally sleeps, you may as well get some before it's all gone"

Kol just lifts his glass in a tipsy toast and she shakes her head in amused resignation. "Ok"

After a moment Klaus gives her a questioning look.

"Wait," she smiles a sugary smile. "I'm deciding what's the most expensive."

He laughs and when their eyes meet they dance with something warmer than simple shared mirth. "It's decided then." Kol interjects. "Champagne cocktails. We are celebrating after all, Nik get your wallet out"

She's on her third when the others arrive laughing at Kol, who is flirting outrageously with one of her cheer squad, and leaning, she realises only in the reflection of their surprised expressions, a little too close to the original at her side.

She steps away jerkily, feeling as if she's been caught with her hand in a hybrid shaped cookie jar. Mercifully Tyler isn't with them and whatever snide remarks were forming on Damon's lips are driven away by a sudden greater concern.

"Sweet Elena," Kol croons and the air crackles with something ominous. "And Jeremy my old mate. I've been looking forward to catching up with you two"

Damon moves slightly in front of Elena, instinctively protective and Bonnie does the same for Jeremy, the Gilberts do inspire such devotion.

"Time to go Kol," Klaus says calmly and Stefan's eyes flash gratefully to the hybrid.

"Nik, don't be a buzz kill," Kol leers threateningly at Elena who visibly shrinks away from the sadistic glint in his eyes. "If the beautiful Caroline can make peace with her murderer I'm sure I can do the same with mine."

Klaus' eyes skim across her face skittishly and his mouth opens a little then snaps shut. She wants to reach for him then, to tell him it's ok, that she gets it. She knows he lashed out, the way he does all hurt and impulsive and that he never meant for it to go that far. And that he saved her and she forgives him. But everyone is here and she can't get the words out of her mouth.

"Enough Kol," he growls and his tone is so dark that a chill runs up her spine.

"Seems I hit a nerve brother?" Kol quips but he's not stupid enough to push Klaus right now so he huffs theatrically, pulls the cheerleader to his side and acquiesces. "Ok let's move this party"

Klaus' eyes flash briefly to hers and she fancies they are laden with something heavy and troubled, then he's leaving and she wants to call out to him but doesn't know what she'd say.

"Kol," she calls instead and when both brothers look at her its Klaus she favours with a smirk. "Don't eat her ok, she's the top of the pyramid."

Fortunately Tyler is late and by the time he arrives she has already managed to deflect Damon's questions about her being. "So cosy with the brother's grim" as he put it. Bonnie steps in, and Jeremy too so smoothly that she realises he must know about her and Klaus as well, and between them they move the conversation to safer ground.

But her stomach is still churning when Tyler arrives and she feels like she dodged a bullet. She determines she can't take the chance again. Decides, with more than a tinge of reluctance, that tomorrow she'll tell Klaus to stay away.

Tomorrow comes with a jaunty golden sun and a warm breeze that caresses the bare skin of her arms as she makes her way to the mansion. On the steps a burly man carrying a large box brushes past her and loads the box into the truck that stands outside. She rushes inside and up the stairs.

"Be careful with that," she hears him bark and follows his voice to his studio where other men are packing canvases into crates.

"Klaus?" she questions drawing his eyes to her. "What's going on?"

"Caroline? Wh-" his next words are cut off by the clatter of a toppled easel and Klaus again turns on the men. "I said be bloody careful."

"Klaus what's going on?" she repeats trailing after him as he intercepts a gawky youth who's just picking up a bronze statue.

"I'll pack that mate," he tells the boy. "It's even older than I am"

"Klaus just stop," her voice rises, momentarily drawing a few looks from what she's realised are removal men before a glower from the hybrid sends them all scurrying.

"Sweetheart-" he begins but she cuts him off.

"You're leaving?" she's aware she sounds a little shrill. "Were you going to tell me? Where are you even going?"

The gawky boy is watching them with interest and she imagines she must look like the crazy girl he's having to moving house to escape but she can't help it, she's utterly blindsided by this.

"New Orleans" he says and gestures with an open hand for her to go ahead of him into his bedroom and away from prying eyes.

"What? Why?"

"During my hunt for a way to bring you back I contacted a coven in the French Quarter with whom I've long had an understanding." He walks over to the window and looks out. "They informed me of a great betrayal"

"Ominous and melodramatic Klaus, but not really explaining anything"

"When my siblings and I arrived in New Orleans three hundred years ago it was little more than a port in a swamp. My family built that city and it was our home for two hundred years." He makes his way over to the decanter on a table in the corner, and seriously what sort of alcoholic has whiskey on hand in their bedroom?

"Ok?" she prompts as he hands her a glass.

"It was one of the few times my family has been truly happy, in no small part thanks to the presence in our lives of my ward Marcellus Gerard"

"Wait a minute, ward?" she's pretty sure she knows what ward means but she can't fit the concept of having one to the image of Klaus she has in her mind. "As in adopted?"

He sits on the bed and without thinking she sits beside him head spinning at this revelation. She knew there was more to him than she'd imagined only weeks ago but she hadn't been ready for this.

"When I found him Marcel was a mere child. A nameless boy, the bastard son of a slave and a plantation owner, beaten and despised by his father," he looks at her sideways with a gleam of wry sadness in his eyes. "I could relate"

She gives him a tight sad smile and he continues. "I killed his father and took him in. I raised him among my family and when he was grown made him, at his request, one of our kind. Marcel was willful at times, challenging too, as sons' are I suppose but for two hundred years he was a part of my family as we ruled New Orleans in prosperity and contentment."

He pauses, looks out of the window and far into the past and she watches his profile and wonders what else he hides beneath the charming megalomaniac he shows the world.

"What happened?" She asks eventually and she can't help but reach out her fingertips to brush encouragingly over his hand. He looks down and turns his own hand over so her fingers are in his palm. She takes the invitation and tangles their fingers together squeezing slightly.

He tips his head enquiringly at the gesture but she just keeps her focus gently on him and waits. "Mikael" he says eventually, of course, what else could make him this vulnerable?

"Eventually he found us and when we fled the burning city it was in the belief that Marcel had perished at his hands. A belief I have now discovered to be entirely mistaken"

"But that's good news right? That he's alive"

"Alive and ruling New Orleans as if it were his own," he stands suddenly and the raving villain is back in full snarling technicolour. "My city! I have no intention of letting Marcel take what is mine"

"But you weren't there, " she tries to reason with him, to send this ugly irascible version of him away and get back to the man who's hand had felt so warm in hers a moment ago. "It was his city too. Did it occur to you that he's just carrying on the family legacy?"

"Marcel saw an opportunity and he made a power grab." Klaus insists and she sees he's walled up against reason, against any softening. "A decision I will ensure he regrets"

"You don't know that, you don't know anything, it's just rumours right?" she insists. She can see his paranoia now bubbling up to the surface, bringing violence and wickedness with it and she hates it, hates him like this. "Call him like a sane person instead of charging off across the country on a vendetta, hear his side"

"There's nothing to hear," his voice rises to a shout and she stands and meets his anger with her own.

"Stop," she commands. "Just stop being so stubborn, he could have good reasons-"

"For what? For taking my city? For stealing my kingdom? For choosing power over family? For not finding us?"

"He hurt you," she tries hard to sound understanding despite that she's so angry with him. Angry that he's showing her this side of himself again when she'd been getting so comfortable with his better self, angry that he won't listen, angry underneath it all that he's leaving. "I understand-"

"You understand nothing!" he rounds on her with a snarl. "I thought him dead, it was decades before I could even speak his name so keenly did I feel his loss. And all the while he-"

"I get it." She cuts in. His anger is driven by pain but it doesn't excuse that his go to response is viscous retribution. "But when the people we care about hurt us we don't swear bloody vengeance Klaus, we reach out to them and we try to forgive them"

"No when people hurt us we punish them. We make them feel our pain a thousand times. Anything less is weakness, anything less is invitation to be hurt over and over again until we can bear no more of it." He's a thousand years old she thinks as he turns his spitting bitterness on her, unbendable and irredeemable why is she even trying to talk sense into him. "Save your bleeding heart Caroline, your naïve notions of forgiveness are for children, fools and weakling and I am none of those things"

He is truly a monster she knows that and he made her care about him, made her care and now he's leaving, the bastard. "Fine then go!" she spits. "Go to New Orleans take back the city crush your son. Be just like your father," she's panting like she's just run a sprint and even as she decides she truly can't abide him her traitorous voice cracks and she's saying words she never meant to say. "Or stay, just stay here and be… Be better. Be someone I don' t have to hate myself for caring about."

He stops short and looks at her so keenly that she squirms. "I'm not saying stay with me. But as your friend I'm telling you," she steps boldly towards him and stares him down. "That this is a mistake, that you are better than this."

He narrows his eyes, his ancient ornery mind doesn't bend easily, she knows that, so she keeps her gaze steady and tries to convey in her eyes faith in her own verdict. "Perhaps," he says, flippancy replacing anger, just another defence, just another wall. "Or perhaps in the end I am forever, inevitably, Mikael's son"

"You don't have to be." She insists, she never has been one to let people get away with being less than their best, her father taught her that. "Come on seriously, your Klaus fricking Mikaelson you can be whatever the hell you want."

And just like that she's through, like she's been swimming up through dark cold water and she's finally broken the surface and into the light. His eyes are blue and wet, and she thinks they might have been almost black a moment ago and his expression is soft with uncertainty.

"Caroline. New Or-"

"No, shut up," she snaps. "Just stop talking about New Orleans ok, the whole thing is crazy"

"Perhaps it is, but the truth is Caroline I had always planned to leave, this business in New Orleans merely gives purpose to my leaving"

"I don't understand" she feels her brow draw downward in a frown and her curls bounce against her cheeks as she shakes her head. "Why?"

"Because of you," he looks into her eyes and she's struck by how sad he can look sometimes. Sad in a way she thinks only a creature as old and lonely as him could possibly be.

"You're leaving me?" In her mind she blames old neuroses and whiskey too early in the day for the slip and corrects herself quickly. "I mean because of me?"

"Sweetheart," he reasons. "I've brought you nothing but misery from the moment I arrived in Mystic Falls surely you must want me gone"

She thinks about it, hadn't she come here to tell him to stay away? Her reason, or perhaps her excuse, for being in his house today had been to demand what he is now offering: freedom from him. She finds with the reality of him actually going that she doesn't want it at all.

"Yes" she confirms softly. "You have brought me and everyone I love nothing but misery and yes I should want you gone"

He looks down and she sees all his buried humanity flowing under the surface, all his pain and regret. She's been here less than quarter of an hour and he's shown her a terrifying kaleidoscope of who he is; bright and dark, wicked and sweet, vicious and vulnerable. She finds that in the reflection of those ever changing colours she can't deny him. He is too thrilling, too tragic, to beautiful, to let go. "But" she continues and turns his face with her palm so she can look into his eyes. "When the people we care about hurt us, we reach out and we try to forgive them"

His hand comes up to cover hers where it lies on his cheek he feels warm and human on her skin and his eyes are so damn wet that she can't stop herself tenderly brushing her thumb across the sharp line of his cheekbone.

He watches her searchingly for moments and she stares back with open honest eyes then he moves to the door and for a moment she's afraid he's going to tell her to go. He doesn't, he opens the door and calls through it. "Mister Goodall, be a good chap and put it all back won't you"

She smiles uneasily at him but he doesn't return it. "Are we friends then?" he asks softly, hopefully.

She nods and he glances bashfully downward. "It's been a long time since I had a friend Caroline" he admits. "I may require some tutelage on the subject"

"Well then lucky for you, I happen to be an excellent friend," she smiles now and it feels warm and natural on her face. "Case in point, my first act as officially your friend: Stopping you embarking on a giant self-destruct and spiral into evil"

"Hmm," he's smiling back, they're both sort of grinning at each other like idiots. "Or possibly thwarting my pursuit of what is rightfully mine and weakening me in the sight of my enemies"

She rolls her eyes cheekily. "Tom-ay-to, tom-ah-to"

A/N hope you liked it. I know its slow burn but we are edging Klarolineward i promise.

So who watched the crossover? The originals is so so good at the moment and getting a bit of Klefan in it was marvellous.

My fantasy future for the show is that as TVD may get cancelled they're planning to leap The Originals forward 3 years for season 4 and start it with Caroline in NOLA searching for Klaus. I know I know its unlikely but i can dream. (Or maybe write it myself in fanfic land)