It's been like forever and three days? Guys, so sorry. Real life is consistently kicking my ass. BUT I managed to squeeze out some words recently and finished both this and the next chapter so it won't be that long until the next one. Sorry again and let me know if you enjoy!
xx
She tries to, logically, go through everything she remembers from the dream.
There's so much emotion left over, though, and she feels like she's shaking but she's not and nothing feels real because the dream is what felt so real. She places her palms down on the duvet just to make sure she's here; so she has a grip on something tangible.
There was something between them, something intangible, that told her he wasn't – coming, staying, agreeing; whatever. He wasn't.
She feels close to tears and she doesn't understand because these emotions aren't hers. She feels like she's choking and she realises that it's because she's terrified.
What's happening to her?
"M-mom?" she calls out.
There's no reply and she wants to worry because it's getting dark outside but there's already a pit in her stomach so instead she lays back down, trying to get control of her breathing.
As a last resort she closes her eyes, hoping that maybe she can just get back to the dream. If she can get back to it, lucid, then maybe it will start making sense.
But nothing comes back to her.
Instead she still feels the emotion from it rushing around her veins, trying to tell her something.
I know that you're in love with me.
His mother murdered by you – oh, and you'd stabbed me.
She presses her eyes closed tighter, trying to get away from the knowledge sitting in her stubborn throat, but it won't go away. The reason she's so terrified, the reason the emotion won't go away; the reason she can't just slip back into the dream.
Because it hadn't been a dream.
"Are you asking me to stay, Caroline?"
"What if I were?"
She could never explain it aloud but it feels as if she's said those words; her body remembers them. The fear is another side effect of being trapped in a body that isn't completely her own. It knows things she doesn't and now her mind is in on the coup too.
She'd gotten back a memory.
The thought alone makes her want to break out into a cold sweat but she's a vampire and vampires don't do that, so instead she takes one last deep breath then forces herself back into motion.
Klaus had invited her over.
She doesn't want to pick apart the dream – memory; whatever. But as she's standing staring at her wardrobe she can't help it. It's almost harder not to think about it.
"Besides, I doubt your friends would be pleased at the intrusion."
"They might not mind. You were Team Us today."
He'd helped her friends? How? Why?
"Ugh!" she growls. "This sucks."
He'd freaking promised to be her last and now here he was, already completely sucking at it.
She's about to scream at her own brain to leave her alone when she freezes.
He'd promised to be her last? Her last what?
She stands like that for a few moments, trying to get at the memory that will answer that, but it's no use.
"Great. So the memories I do want, those I'm not allowed to have. But the one I don't, you're just gonna keep forcing on me?!" she complains, wishing she could side-eye her brain.
Her gaze lands on her clothing, reminding her what she's supposed to be doing.
Going to see the one person who has all the answers she needs.
Caroline pulls up to the Mikaelson mansion with a frown.
It still seems as intimidating as ever, not least because of the last time she'd been here – after Klaus had told her he was leaving. She'd asked him to stay; not to give up on her.
"Are you asking me to stay, Caroline?"
"What if I were?"
"God," she mutters. "Stop!"
Grabbing up her purse like it had personally wronged her, she climbs out of the car then makes her way to the front door. She's momentarily perplexed by whether to ring the doorbell or knock then ends up doing both, feeling jittery.
Klaus opens the door with an amused smirk but his expression quickly sobers.
"What's wrong?"
"Um."
She bristles a little, not having expected him to have noticed right away. And now she's not sure if it's because he knows her that well or if it's actually written all over her face.
"Nothing," she attempts a smile.
He stares, seemingly working out some equation in his mind, then seems to concede.
"You'll tell me later."
She rolls her eyes at that but breathes a sigh of relief when he steps aside to let her in.
"Hi, by the way."
He laughs shortly. "Hello, Caroline. Can I take your coat?"
She's forgotten she's even wearing one but it's not just because of her dream dilemma anymore – he's also looking at her again, the heat of his gaze dancing on her skin and, dammit, she was supposed to have slept this off.
She clears her throat as she removes her coat.
"So I guess we're staying here, then?"
He nods simply, hanging her coat, then from behind her seems to prompt her to walk. She frowns but obliges, heading forward into the dark house; trying not to pay too much attention to his breath on her back.
"A few more steps."
Her frown deepens. "A few more steps to what?"
She's about to turn around to interrogate him properly when suddenly –
"SURPRISE!"
"Oh my god!"
The light switches on and it takes longer for her eyes to adjust to the number of people present than the sudden contrast.
"Oh my god."
A chorus of "Caroline!" breaks out and she slowly begins to realise that the insane amount of people is made up of her family. Like, the entirety of it.
"Oh. My. God."
Now she does spin to glare at Klaus as various aunts begin to make a beeline for her.
"Why?" she accuses.
He looks sheepish. "It was your mother's idea."
She opens her mouth to protest but suddenly she's being whisked off with wondrous comments about how she hasn't aged a day and too quickly she loses sight of Klaus completely.
Klaus sighs for about the fiftieth time in the past half hour.
It's been almost double as long since he's even had a glimpse of Caroline and he's swiftly being reminded of the PTSD he'd suffered the last time he'd had to host Caroline's every living relative.
They're a rather busy clan, too; they've nearly tripled since.
The ballroom is packed to the rafters, as is the lounge, and there are even a few stragglers in the kitchen. It's taking significant willpower not to take one outside and have a nice long drink just to take the edge off.
Instead he takes a swig of his drink, trying his best to ignore the bustle of humanity in his home. These people are all here for her. That means he has to tolerate them. The problem is that he, too, is here for her and they are what he's gotten to deal with instead.
"Oh, Klaus!"
There's relief in the exclamation and he turns sceptically – not undeservedly. It's Caroline's great aunt Jacqueline, who is pushing 99 and should really just surrender to the afterlife at this point.
"Jacqueline," he forces a smile as she wobbles her way over to him. "Are you –"
"Where's the bathroom?"
He frowns for a second then answers with a sigh.
"It's –"
He breaks off, though, remembering the last time he'd directed her somewhere and proceeded to spend the next hour finding her in all sorts of rooms that were not the one he had directed her to.
"I'll show you."
He's learned not to expect a thank you, so immediately begins walking.
"Why is it you need such a big house, anyway?" He's opening his mouth to reply to this but she's already moving on: "My home was nowhere near this large and it had everything in it I ever needed – lived in it happily for forty-nine years. I'll tell you what else, too, my husband built it with his own two hands – what did you do, open the web and type in how many bedrooms you wanted?"
Klaus has never quite been able to work out whether she doesn't like him or if she's simply prickly with everyone, but he decides not to rise to her dig. He hasn't drank nearly enough.
"Then again, Caroline does like her pretty things."
She gives him a look like that's supposed to mean something, and he's just about to go back on his resolution not to rise to her insults when she moves swiftly on again.
"Where's that charming brother of yours?"
"Elijah," he grunts out, now mainly attempting to focus on his footsteps rather than how he'd very much like to alter her pace toward the afterlife to breakneck speed.
"Yes, Elijah."
"I wouldn't know, we haven't been in touch recently."
"Why is that?"
He grits his teeth. "Creative differences." He stops, pointing at a door. "The bathroom."
"Thank you, dear," she lays a shaky old hand on his arm that he makes an effort not to recoil from.
"Have you perhaps seen Caroline recently?"
She thinks about it.
"Near that unnecessarily large staircase, I believe. At least I think it was her – I haven't really seen anything all that well for a good fifteen years. Speaking of which, keep a lookout for my teeth, would you?"
With that she disappears into the bathroom, Klaus staring after her in horror.
Jacqueline's tip leads him to a blond Forbes.
"Liz," he greets, standing beside her, attempting to bury his irritation at the old woman's visual incompetence.
"Klaus," she smiles. "What do you think of my party?"
"It's fine."
"Fine as in the old-fashioned elegant, or fine like meh?"
"The latter." When she glares at him she reminds him of her daughter. He smirks. "You should leave the party-planning to Caroline."
"Well she couldn't very well organise her own surprise party, could she?"
He folds his arms. "Not least because she wouldn't have."
"Excuse me?"
"I think we're both aware that this is not the way Caroline would choose to spend a Friday evening."
She smiles toothily. "Klaus, your job is to give my daughter everything she wants. My job is to know what she'll want before even she does." He's about to protest but she continues: "Speaking of keeping Caroline happy, you can't be doing a very good job standing here talking to me, can you?"
He glares, which only makes her look more amused.
"I would be at her side if only I could find it."
Liz attempts straightening up to get onto her toes and peruse the crowd which, considering she needs a walker just to get around, makes him smirk, but it quickly disappears with her answer.
"I swear she was here a minute ago."
"Fantastic," he sighs.
Her eyes still on the crowd, she lowers her tone.
"How are things going?"
He glances at her but she doesn't make eye contact and he diverts his gaze to the partygoers too. For the past few hours they'd been so busy getting the party together that the topic hadn't come up, and now he's not sure how to respond.
"…This afternoon went well."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning… things seem to be going well, but I've thought that before."
"You're scared."
"I'm not in control. And I don't know what she's thinking. Especially with those bloody diaries influencing her."
"For the better."
"For now."
Finally she looks at him.
"Are you worried about something you did back then?"
Yes. And there was also a fair amount of things he'd said that he wasn't proud of.
But it isn't only that – he doesn't know what will set her off. Like how last night he'd entirely unintentionally upset her; unearthed insecurities he hadn't anticipated being a problem.
"We both know I don't exactly have a blemish-free record."
"She knows that too."
"Yes and the first go around it already took time to understand the extent of that. Now –"
"Klaus, she woke up and you told her that you'd killed hundreds of people for her. I think she understands."
He fidgets. He knows technically that's true. But he can't help thinking that something is going to go wrong and he won't see it coming.
He can't be blindsided by losing her again.
"She's not going to run," Liz seems to read his mind.
They're quiet for the longest while, watching one of Caroline's relatives drunkenly tell a story about outrunning a dog. His listeners are just drunk enough to appreciate the seventieth telling of the tale and Klaus thinks of when Caroline had prepared him for meeting the cousin in question.
"He has this story about a dog chasing him thinking he was a burglar. I'm pretty sure it was just chasing because he was running, but the point is, you don't even have to listen to it. Just point out at some point that the thing could've had rabies and he'll love your cute serial killer ass, I promise."
The memory stings.
"I miss her," he admits quietly.
He misses her knowing everything they had shared, yes, but it goes beyond even that. He misses touching her – really touching her. He misses holding her; her weight atop him. He'd waited thirty-five years with the knowledge that when she woke – whenever that would be – that he'd get to touch her again.
But, mostly, he misses the way she'd looked at him.
Having lived over a thousand years, he's confident in claiming that there is no feeling that matches up to being looked at by Caroline Forbes as if you were her whole world. As if you belonged to her. As if she loved you.
Liz shoots him a glance, sympathy tucked into the corners of it.
"I know."
Her frail old hand lands on his wrist and he tries to force himself out of thinking this way.
Caroline had asked him to choose and he had.
Her mother removes her hand. They've been friends long enough for her to know that the moment has passed and that that kind of vulnerability makes him uncomfortable.
"Go get us drinks," she announces.
"Get your own drink."
"Has anyone ever told you that you have no manners?"
"Yes. You. Every other week. However, it doesn't change the bar being right over there."
She laughs. "Have you noticed the walker?"
"I'm still convinced it's just for show," he teases. "I'm older than you."
"That explains why I'm so much better looking."
He chuckles then begins to head toward the bar and she grins, not unlike the way Caroline does when she gets her way.
"Merlot!" she calls after him.
Getting to the bar, he quickly thinks through the last call he'd had with her doctor.
"Take Liz a drink. Rosé spritzer – half a glass, then she's cut off. It interferes with her medicine."
"Yes, sir," the bartender nods.
"And pass the scotch."
With the bottle in hand, he heads off in a different direction. Clearly, finding Caroline is not in the cards, and without her the entire night is pointless. He may as well find a quiet room and wait for the storm to pass.
With a swig from the bottle, he pushes open the study door then recoils on instinct when he's met with vampire fangs and red eyes.
He's about to react when they simultaneously realise who the other is.
Caroline's vampire features disappear as her eyes round.
"Klaus! Thank god!" She takes a breath. "Please get me out of here."
