A/N: I'm an evil, evil person. I feed on your feels. But that's what made me write this chapter so fast. You have no idea how much you motivated me with your reviews. (Yeah, I admit, I love when you yell at me.)
I love you guys. Thank you for your time, your words of encouragement, and all the opinions. I love to read your reviews and messages, you always inspire me.
The previous one was rather Caroline-centered, this one is focused more on the Mikaelson family. You missed them? Good! I'm so excited to see your reactions.
Chapter 19
scandalum magnatum
scandal of the magnates
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He doesn't know how long he holds Rebekah after crossing the threshold of the mansion. Probably forever and a half. He never had what she did—love and acceptance from Mikael was reserved for Mikael's own flesh and blood—but when her heart breaks into pieces in his arms, Klaus wishes he could mourn with her. Yet this loss isn't his to grieve about. This is what makes him an outsider in his own home.
It's too quiet in the mansion even though the staff is busy preparing the wake that comes tomorrow. Everyone's tiptoeing around the family members. Charles, the old butler, nods understandingly at Klaus as if he remembered all the pain Klaus went through as a child. Every time teenage Klaus run away from home and hid in an abandoned cottage in the woods nearby, Charles went after him to bring the kid home. Never in his life did the butler tell Mikael the truth about Klaus' hiding place. He knew Mikael would have just burned it to the ground.
"When is Mrs. Mikaelson coming? Should we wait up?" Charles gives Klaus a polite, encouraging smile, the one you give children along with a candy to comfort them.
But Klaus doesn't cheer up. Pursing his lips, he shakes his head.
The butler's face falls when he realizes his faux pas. "Oh. I'm sorry." Seeing hurt Klaus, even when he's a grown up, immensely saddens the man.
"Caroline's not coming? Why?" Klaus hears Rebekah sigh. She's still standing in the hall, traces of tears still lingering on her cheeks.
"Let's eat, shall we? We'll talk later." He squeezes her arm gently and heads to the dining room leaving his sister behind.
Elijah doesn't say a word as they dine. He's been always the silent one, aloof. He wore the Mikaelson name with pride and expected the same from the rest of his siblings. Stiff upper lip and the minimum of emotions. Back in the days Kol used to make fun of Elijah, calling him a Prince of Whales and making whale noises. But tonight Kol keeps to himself too.
Esther knew. She knew something tragic was about to come long before it happened. Now Rebekah's words during her stay in Chicago make sense. "I don't know, Klaus. She's been so... sad. Like something bad is about to happen." Mikael's trip to Japan before their anniversary ball wasn't for business. He went to see a famous cardiologist, to save whatever hope was left for him. That's why he didn't pick up a fight with Klaus that evening. He didn't interfere. Mikael was just watching him, with an unreadable expression on his face. It all makes sense now.
Their mother is regally sad when everyone's looking and utterly devastated when nobody sees her. She might have never loved the father of her children in the passionate, uncontrollable way she loved her gypsy, but she did love Mikael a steady, grateful love. Her husband knew it too well and came to accept it. Only sometimes, when they were alone, he stared at her with those pensive eyes, wishing she had this kind of ardent affection for him.
Now Esther looks at Klaus and thinks that when it comes to love life, of all her children Klaus resembles Mikael the most—no matter how paradoxically it sounds. The way he was looking at Caroline while in London was so heartbreakingly Mikael.
"So why isn't she joining us tonight, Klaus?" Rebekah finally breaks the silence. As the most emotional member of the clan, she just can't stand the eerie lull of the house.
Kol's eyes instantly fasten on Klaus. Of course Caroline's absence has been duly noted, but Rebekah's concerned tone puts him on a full alert. Even Elijah, slowly chewing on his beef, doesn't take his eyes off his married brother. Esther reaches for a wine glass, sending Klaus an anxious glance.
Klaus takes another sip of wine, and then clears his throat. "Caroline isn't a part of this family."
Rebekah opens her mouth to question her brother, but Kol's faster. "Last time I checked her last name was Mikaelson. Care to explain?" He shoots, an ironic smirk playing on his lips. He knows what's coming, and he will not hesitate to derive sadistic pleasure from his brother's discomfort.
"Yes, Kol, I'm actually glad to explain and finally drop the façade of a happy husband." Klaus is doing his best to sound as sarcastic and cold as possible. "Caroline has never been a part of this family. We got drunk in Vegas, we got married, and so the poor girl needed to fix her mistake. But, you see, I'm done with her mistakes, so here we are. Cheers." He raises his glass at Kol and downs all of it at once.
Even Kol's jaw drops. Not that he wasn't suspecting it—for the past few months he's been practically living only to expose Klaus' lie. Yet the moment his conspiracy theory is proved, Kol somehow needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not some sick dream. He wonders if the same will happen to other conspiracy-obsessed weirdoes when they eventually find out that yes, humanity is actually under the control of shape-shifting alien reptiles.
"You cold-hearted bastard." Rebekah spits.
"Yeah, you cold-hearted bastard!" Kol, on the other hand, is in awe.
"You've been lying to me! Straight in the face! While I have been nothing but supportive to you no matter what! You put a dagger in my heart, Nik!"
Klaus shrugs nonchalantly. "What can I say, Bekah, I'm the naughty brother."
"I don't know what happened, but you loved her. I saw it. You cared."
"Poppycock." He pours more wine into his glass, spilling some of it onto the snow-white tablecloth. "You see what you want to see, dear sister."
"And you, dear brother, you are a sad story."
Klaus bangs his hand on the table, the cutlery dancing from the impact. "You know what's your problem, Rebekah? Your curse, your tragedy?" His tone is no longer mocking. Now it's spiteful, full of venom. "You love being lied to. You are so desperate for love that you accept every lie as long as it tickles your fancy. Ask your dearest Stefan whom he dated before you. Ask him when he comes tomorrow. Let me give you a little clue, though. When she chose Damon, your knight in shining armor chose you as his consolation prize. I wonder if the protagonist of his book is really based on you."
Color drains from Rebekah's face. "That's not—"
"That's exactly what you are!" Klaus brandishes a silver fork at her. "This, princess, is your sad story. So don't try to convince me what I'm feeling, because you are totally oblivious and incompetent in that department."
"Niklaus, enough!" Esther's voice thunders around the room.
"No, mother, please let him psychoanalyze me." Rebekah snorts. "Let him torture all of us because his sorry ass got rejected by a girl. Again."
"Believe me, I will. We can seat and eat, or I can reach down your throats and take out your insides, because I'm a monster. Choice is yours."
Even Elijah notices that Klaus does sound like a maniac now. Kol simply revels in the chaos their brother has ensued. He actually starts to clap slowly. "Well done, brother. Well done."
"Not a word from any of you!" They all stop and stare at their vexed mother and her trembling hands. "If you can't honor your father's memory with simple dinner, I don't want you at this table." Too exhausted to raise her voice again Esther mutters massaging her temples. "To your rooms, all three of you. Now."
Klaus stands up and grabs a bottle of wine, then and waves it triumphantly at Rebekah. Seeing his brother exit the room, Kol jumps to his feet and follows him. Rebekah wipes her mouth with a napkin and throws it onto the table, then stomps out of the room, her footsteps echoing after her as she goes.
Just when all the troublemakers leave, Esther and Elijah notice Finn and Sage standing in the doorframe, shock written all over their faces.
"Um," Finn frowns, "what did we miss?"
:-:
"How long has she been doing this?" Katherine gulps. She, Damon, and Vaughn stand in the hallway of Klaus' apartment, afraid to get any further.
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you! I wish nothing but the best for you too!"
Vaughn clasps his hand at the back of his neck and grimaces. "Can we re-program her somehow?"
"DON'T FORGET ME! I BEG! I will remember you said—"
"Jesus Christ!" Damon covers his ears.
"Sometimes it lasts in love," they hear Caroline sniff loudly, "but sometimes it hurts inste-eh-eh-eh-ead!"
After a long moment of silence the group ventures into the living room.
Seeing Caroline's butt as she's crawling on all fours Katherine throws her fists up in exasperation. "What the hell are you doing?!"
The blond sits down and wipes sweat off her forehead. "Stress cleaning."
"Stress cleaning? Care, this place is already spotless!" Katherine's afraid to even touch anything, it's so clean.
"I know. It's my third round."
"Really?" Damon narrows his eyes at her. "Because your neighbor said something about a pig being slaughtered here."
"How did you get in here?"
Damon dangles a set of spare keys in front of Caroline. He got it from Klaus years ago in case of some bachelor emergency. "BROTP, darling."
Vaughn, a cop's son, is the one to ask the right questions. "What on Earth happened? Where's Klaus?"
Dark circles under her eyes, bitten nails, nervous glances. Everything about her—Adele included—screams sheer madness. Caroline shoves her hand into the pocket of her sweatpants and takes something out, her cheeks flushed with guilt. Biting her lower lip Caroline sighs, "I might have worn his toothbrush out. But it did wonders to the old lamp in the bedroom."
"She's crazy." Damon shudders.
Vaughn's stare seems to say, should we call an ambulance? A shrink? A SWAT team?
Katherine's a woman of method. "We better have her legally incapacitated before she moves from Adele on to Taylor Swift."
:-:
Like any of his siblings, Klaus has never been much of a churchgoer. It's hard to believe in some mysterious higher being when your mother has a room stuffed with crystal balls, Tarot cards, runes, and astrology compendiums. But when he sees Rebekah sitting alone in the corner of a pew, her eyes red from crying, he realizes he crushed her. As if one heartbreak wasn't enough, he crushed her hopes and dreams—just because his own got shattered. He wishes to be one of those people who can find consolation in something beyond themselves. But all he believes in is Klaus Mikaelson, and Klaus Mikaelson doesn't bow to those who defy him. So he sits down in a pew across the aisle and throws a guilty glance at Rebekah now and then. If Stefan's not here already, it means the angry yelling and crying coming from her room last night were aimed at him.
Loosening his tie, Kol sits next to Klaus. The younger Mikaelson got so drunk last night Klaus can still smell alcohol on him. Kol may look like Elijah's younger clone, but he's got Klaus' temper. That's a trait they share, except Kol is even worse at dealing with his emotions. Maybe Klaus made a mistake leaving for Chicago, leaving Kol behind. Bitter and angry at life, Kol crawls into bottle after bottle, the only way he can suppress the sadness.
Esther and Elijah stay calm and collected. They greet the guests, accept condolences, nod politely. Mikael's business partners, who hold forty per cent of the shares, come not only to pay their respects but also to see if the company is left in capable hands. Finn and Elijah are doing their best, working under pressure.
"You have one job, brother." Elijah mutters under his breath on their way from the cemetery. "Keep Kol away from trouble or we're broke the moment he drops his pants and yells pudding."
It's not that easy, though. Babysitting Kol is like babysitting a tiger cub. Klaus has to hide him in the garage because that troublemaker was one step away from a stunt hundred times worse than pudding.
"This is what I missed." Kol takes a swig from a bottle of Jack. They sit in their father's old school Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud II, the jewel of Mikael's collection. "The two of us connecting. Spitting in the face of mother's rules."
Klaus chuckles. They used to spit in the face of everyone's rules, to be honest.
"Hey, let's go and paint the town red, just like the good old times."
"Don't you think we shouldn't bunk off father's funeral, Kol?"
Kol hangs his head as the grin vanishes from his face. "He's dead. Not that he cares."
This is the first time Klaus sees Kol's eyes darken not in anger, but in pain. It gnaws at his brother, it makes his heart sink. Greedy for more, it reaches out for Klaus' heart too, even though it's not his pain to feel. Or maybe it's just what Klaus tells himself to sleep better at night.
"You know what?" He grabs Kol by the shoulder. "You're right. Let's ditch this party."
:-:
When Caroline asks Katherine to give it to her straight, Katherine isn't a subtle little creature. "You screwed up. You fucked it up because you couldn't stand the thought that you were wrong about him in the beginning."
Caroline is lying on the couch, her body wrapped so tight in a blanket that only her head shows. She looks like an emo fish washed ashore.
"Am I a horrible person? Tell me what an awful person I am."
Damon opens his mouth to chime in, but Katherine shoots him a deadly glare. Don't.
"You're one of the least awful people I know, Care. In fact, I think you're trying too hard to be a role model."
Caroline sighs. "Says an actress with thousands legions of fans."
"Do you really think I got where I am today by following rules and setting an example?"
"But I am a lawyer! I am supposed to be a role model!"
Damon rolls his eyes, unable to hold back a sneer. "Just relax, for God's sake! Role models forge their failures into victories. You haven't been a role model, you've been a jitterbug. A killjoy on tenterhooks. A control freak on crack. A Tibetan monk that—"
"Fine! Ugh! I get it!" Caroline starts shaking and fidgeting, trying to sit up, but her burrito suit effectively cramps her movements. "Just… help me up."
Vaughn pulls her into a sitting position so she can unwrap herself from the fabric.
"I'll call him, okay? I'll call him and I'll admit to him that I am stupid and boring and shallow and a terrible person!"
Her friends stare at her awkwardly. "Um, Caroline, I don't think this is what he wants to hear."
:-:
Finding company at a bar has never been a problem for Klaus and Kol. As soon as they enter the place, two beauties are at their sides, seductively sipping at their drinks.
"Klaus, meet Amanda and Chelsea. Ladies, this is the infamous member of the clan, one and only Klaus Mikaelson. Give him some love, shall you?" The girls giggle and let Klaus kiss their hands, a charming smirk playing on his lips as he does so. His eyes are instantly set on the blonde one, Amanda. Kol winks at his brother and wraps his arm around the redhead as they head to their table. The brothers raise their glasses in a silent toast to the old good times of debauchery and fun.
They stop counting bottles after the fourth. The bar is spinning around them, the music fills the room, the voices blend into an indistinct hubbub. Klaus' hands drop to the girl's waist while he's burying his nose in her hair. She's warm, her skin smooth, so nice to touch. It doesn't matter her face is now a blur, he prefers it this way. Words flow and fade, nobody cares. He might have said something about how he loves the ever-present London fog, she might have said she's half-Australian and she misses the sunny beaches. Who cares.
Kol disappears somewhere in the back of the bar along with his companion and another bottle. The blond catches Klaus looking around for his brother and grabs his chin, turning his head back to her. When she whispers something with a playful look on her face, all Klaus sees are her blue eyes.
He's too drunk to lock the bathroom door, so she does it for him before she hops onto the sink and pulls him into a kiss. When their lips finally part, he doesn't know where he is anymore. Everything is hazy but it feels good. Oblivion feels good. So he goes for her neck, sucking at it, biting, licking. Caroline likes it, she likes how his stubble tickles her sensitive spot halfway down her neck. Caroline wraps her legs around his waist and reaches for the buckle of his belt. His hands join hers and they fumble to unzip his dress pants.
"You're married." She takes his hand and brings it up to see the wedding ring. He blinks at her, confused. But then she throws her head back and laughs. "You naughty boy. Don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets."
Suddenly irritated, Klaus grabs her by her hips and pulls her into him, their bodies crash. "Please," he grunts between the kisses he's placing on her collarbone, "don't talk."
Caroline giggles when his tongue ventures between her breasts. Buckling her hips forward, she urges him to skip the foreplay and move to the best part of their encounter.
He looks into the mirror at the reflection of his hand buried into her hair. His wedding ring. Suddenly Caroline's hair isn't the stranger's hair anymore. Her eyes aren't the icy blues of his wife.
He stops and stares at her, his mouth agape. What the—
A second later the bathroom door bursts open, and a furious blonde in black storms in. "You narcissistic backstabbing wanker!"
A hand grabs the back of his neck and he stumbles backwards.
The world starts spinning around him again until his forehead comes crashing against the bathroom stall.
And then Klaus Mikaelson goes out like a light, knocked out.
:-:
A killer headache is the first thing that wakes him up. Someone opens the curtains and blinding sunlight comes in, frying Klaus' brain. "What the hell! Someone turn off the sun!" He presses a pillow to his face, finding some comfort in the darkness. But his head is still pounding like a drummers' parade. He peeks from behind the pillow only to see Esther standing in front of him, her arms crossed.
"Did you have fun yesterday?" She doesn't sound angry. She sounds bitter.
Klaus doesn't say anything, just covers his eyes with the pillow again.
"We opened Mikael's will. You should have been there with us."
"Yeah," comes Klaus' muffled snort, "as if my being there to hear I'm the disgraced bastard meant anything."
He hears paper unfold. Esther clears her throat. "I, the undersigned, Mikael Philip Mikaelson, do hereby, after mature deliberation, declare the following to be my last Will and Testament with respect to such property as may be left by me at the time of my death. My wife Esther Mikaelson will receive the family mansion and all the possesions in it. To my son Finn I bequeath the sum of 250 000 pounds and additional 100 000 pounds to establish a trust fund for his children. I appoint my son Elijah the CEO of Mikaelson Investments and bequeath my car collection to him. My daughter Rebekah will become the rightful owner of the apartment in Paris and will receive a sum of 100 000 pounds to fund her own enterprise. To my son Kol I bequeath my watch collection and the vineyard in Burgundy."
"How generous of him." Klaus mutters into the pillow.
"To my son Klaus I bequeath the apartment in London."
The pillow falls to the floor.
Esther continues, not paying attention to the fact that Klaus now sits up, dumbstruck. "All my shares will be equally divided between my wife Esther and my children, Finn, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, and Klaus Mikaelson, making them shareholders and members of the board at Mikaelson Investments."
"What is it?" Klaus' tired face gets even paler. "What the hell is it, mother?"
"It's your father's will. Now I recommend you should take some aspirin and clean up. Elijah is waiting for you in his office. This company is now in need of a good corporate lawyer." His mother folds the paper again. She's still disappointed with her son, but seeing him struggle with what he's just heard softens her heart a little.
"I—" Klaus props his elbows on his knees, clutching at his head, his breathing uneven. "I don't understand. He made it clear so many times that he loathed me and that I was cut off. What is it? Some afterlife mind-game on his part?"
Esther sits down next to him and puts a hand on his knee.
"He showed me this after you and Caroline left after the anniversary ball. I asked him the same thing. You know what he told me? He's my son. That's all he said."
"This is ridiculous." Klaus hisses. Suddenly he's sweating. Mikael never gave him even a crumb of affection. He never acknowledged Klaus in any way. He was the bastard son, the black sheep, the rotten apple. And now the man has the audacity to piss him off from the grave. To make him feel like he had a father. How dare he.
A barely visible, sad smile appears on Esther's lips. "You would be surprised how much you two have in common."
:-:
Nothing keeps you in America now, Elijah reasons. Your family, on the other hand, needs you. Finn has just become a father. He can't dedicate his whole time to the company. Rebekah, well, she's not cut out for this kind of business. She'll spread her wings and start something on her own as soon as she gets the money. And Kol… We all know what Kol is. A college dropout, drunk and disorderly for a living. He has to leave a mental kindergarten first before he takes part in a board meeting. Their siblings are shareholders, but they won't run the company. Yet this is a company their grandfather built along with their father. It's their legacy.
"I can't do it alone, Klaus. I need a good corporate lawyer. Someone I can trust. Family."
"You want me to move back to London and join the company Mikael banned me from years ago."
Elijah doesn't even hesitate. "Yes."
"I'm terribly sorry Elijah, but I cannot accept your offer." Klaus says firmly. "I would rather divide my ten percent of shares between all of you and live my life as a free man."
There are moments in life when Elijah Mikaelson loosens his tie, too. And in those moments he deliberately forgets his manners.
"Cut the crap, brother. There is nothing in the U.S. you couldn't have here, freedom included. Nobody needs you more than your family now, so please do me a favour and get the fuck over your oh-so-proud self."
And then he casually brings a cup of green tea to his lips and takes a sip.
Klaus stare at his brother wide-eyed, equally shocked and impressed. This is a face of Elijah he's rarely seen in their long history of a tug-of-war—the cheeky straightforward one. If Elijah were more like this on a regular basis, he would be a king of London's financial elite.
"So, will you reconsider?"
:-:
Days pass lazily, much to Caroline's annoyance. Every time she picks up the phone, her hand starts to shake.
She's given him time to cool down, a whole week. She's rehearsed every word she's going to tell him, for God's sake! Yet her hands don't cease to tremble.
So when one evening the caller ID shows Klaus calling, Caroline freaks out. She jumps away from her phone dropping it in the process. Then she picks it up from the floor and holds it like a piece of China porcelain. Finally, after many oh-my-Gods and one very strong fuck she picks up.
"Hello Caroline."
"Klaus." She breathes out. "Hi." Damn it. What was she going to tell him again?
"Did you get the affidavit?"
"Did I get… what?"
"The affidavit stating we live separately and apart. I sent it by mail." She's never heard him sound so official. "You need it to file in for divorce."
"Yeah, about that… When are you coming back? We need to talk."
Caroline's heart is beating so fast it would easily just jump out of her chest and run to win a hurdle race at the Olympics.
Klaus stays silent for a while, collecting his thoughts.
"I'm not."
Her heart just stumbles over the first hurdle.
She stifles a nervous laugh. "What do you mean, you're not?"
"Well, looks like Mikael had a sudden change of heart at his deathbed. He included me in the will—"
"Wow."
"—so I'm moving back to London for good. Elijah's the new CEO and he needs a trusted lawyer."
Her heart runs into the second hurdle and falls down along with it.
"Oh."
"I've already made some necessary arrangements with my clients. About the apartment, you can stay there until you find a new place. Then give the keys to Marcel—you know, the art dealer—and he'll put the apartment on the market." Klaus makes a speech like he's closing a business deal. "And about our divorce, I believe you can do the rest of paperwork. I'll come to Chicago when they set the date and I'll take the rest of my things back to London."
She won't make it to the finish line.
"So this is it?" Her voice breaks. "You're not coming back?"
He brings his clenched fist to his mouth and squeezes his eyes. "No. My family needs me here." And he doesn't have any reason to come back.
She's quietly swallowing tears, unable to utter a word. Strained silence drags on. Klaus can her hear uneven breathing.
"If this is all—"
"Klaus."
He waits.
"I know you're in love with me." She shoots. She's drowning, clutching at straws. Desperation is clogging up her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
"But that's not exactly what's bothering you, is it?" Running his hand through his hair, Klaus lets out a deep sigh.
"Goodbye, Caroline."
Just after he hangs up, a slow clap echoes in the room. Rebekah's standing in the door, her face twisted in disgust.
"Congratulations, Nik. The Most Miserable Mikaelson award is yours."
"Sorry to steal your crown this year, little sister."
"Yeah. Good luck sleeping at night." She turns on her heel and walks away.
Rebekah's right, though. He doesn't sleep. He spends his nights in the hidey-hole of his art room. He barely needs light to paint because all the colors he uses are dark and gloomy. He would call it post modern art, but it would be an insult to post-modernism, or art for that matter. It's just some doodle of that rejected little boy he used to be. He's got enough decency to call a spade a spade.
Usually his eyes give up at 5 am and he falls asleep. String quartet is playing in a corner. He tells her how ravishing she looks in that dress. She laughs him off, but she's blushing nevertheless. People glance at them from above their champagne flutes. They stand in front of a huge painting, some landscape he painted once. Now he sees there's not enough shades of green in it. But she's impressed. The compliments he pays her—some dull comparison to a princess, Jesus what was that?—they're so lame even Kol would think of something more original. Klaus' palms are sweating. He would show her the world. Let her live a richer life. Big cities, art, and music. Rome, Paris, Tokyo. He'll buy her off—what else could an emotionally handicapped rich boy offer? But she's immune to his pseudo-charm. Your father didn't love you so you assume no one else will either, she says. And that's why you intimidate people or try to buy them off. But that's not how it works. You don't connect with people because you don't even try to understand them. And she leaves him in the room alone, slapped across the face with her honesty.
He finds her at a bar. They had a little spat, yes, but he's over it already. Caroline shakes her head at him—he may be, but she's not. He and his expensive jewelry and his romantic drawings can leave her alone.
She gets another panic attack, so he holds her in his arms and whispers, it's okay, it's me, you're safe. He's not sure whom he's assuring, her or himself.
She hates his alpha male ego. She scoffs when he asks her to dance with him, but he's got that melancholic Gatsby vibe she secretly likes. The life she leads, he whispers as they dance at some monochrome party, it won't be enough for her.
The wedding cake Liz chose for her big day is awful. He hates cherries.
They are not involved. He'll never be a father of her children. She didn't mean it, she swears. But his demons are out. He yells at Caroline as they stand in the middle of the dance floor, I should have turned my back at you ages ago. She just shakes her head. She feels sorry for him. Then she's gone.
Was it worth it to see her smile? Tyler Lockwood is wearing Klaus' wedding ring and looks at him triumphantly. Yes, he made her dream night come true. Klaus has him choking against the wall. I will allow you five seconds before I rip your heart out of your chest. Tyler sneers, she's already ripped yours.
He wakes up sweating heavily, his whole body shaking in fever. His nails dig into his flesh—he just has to make sure it's not another dream. His wedding ring is still on his finger.
Until we get divorced, I will bring you nothing but misery.
He clutches at his head, tearing his hair out. "Stop hounding me!"
:-:
Caroline stares at their marriage certificate.
This is to certify that the undersigned Reverend Andrew Young did on the 12 day of April 2012 at Mystic Chapel, Nevada, join in lawful wedlock Klaus Mikaelson of Chicago, Illinois, and Caroline Forbes of Chicago, Illinois, with their mutual consent, in the presence of Meredith Fell and Alaric Saltzman.
She digs up a photo Vaughn took with her phone at her mother's reception. They are sitting by the table, Caroline with a spoon in her mouth grinning goofily at the camera while Klaus is looking at her, laughing. She brushes his face over with her thumb. She misses him when she wakes up. When she's at work, she realizes she's still waiting for him to text her like he used to do. She can't even look at Chinese. And when she goes to bed alone, she hugs a pillow and listens to the silence that reigns in his vast apartment.
They should have gotten at least one wedding photo in Vegas. Something she could hold on to now. A scrap of a memory. She googles up the Mystic Chapel. Was it nice? She doesn't even remember the place at which she got married. She deserves to know at least that. Ugh, she winces at the photo. What a tacky place. A white gazebo with colorful lights draped all over it. And this leopard-print carpet. Monstrosity.
She scrolls down the search results until something catches her eye. A fake Vegas reverend caught up red handed. Alarmed,she clicks on the entry.
Andrew Young, 49, was charged after he carried out a fake marriage every day for over two years. The alleged offences took place at Mystic Chapel in Las Vegas, Nevada. Many marriages served the purpose of facilitating illegal immigration. The fake reverend was arrested in May, following an investigation into sham marriages by an undercover police unit. So far it is the biggest sham marriage case Vegas has seen so far.
Caroline clasps her hand over her mouth.
They don't need their marriage declared null and void.
It actually never happened.
:-:
.
.
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A/N: *laughs diabolically and disappears in a puff of smoke*