I continue not to own The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, any characters within, New Orleans, or Baton Rouge.
Baton Rouge was lovely in its own right, but certainly held no candle to the glamour, vivacity, or peril of New Orleans. It was far more peaceful. The state's capital boasted more sprawling land, open area, green foliage, and mellow southern hospitality. Out here golf courses were the pride and joy, tying intimately with home-style southern Cajun cooking on every course. The vocal drawls were more readily apparent, and the shopping was less eclectic with a definitive lack of local witchcraft.
Hardly the city to explore when one was traveling the world, thought Caroline wearily. Yet there she was, holed up in a second-rate hotel with the faded cream blinds drawn tight, lying upon a plain blue plaid bed that had seen better days. All the necessities were with her—hair dryer, clothes, elegant pearl earrings—
God damn it, why had she brought any reminders of him?
"I was wondering the same thing," Bonnie's familiar dry voice echoed from the bathroom.
Cringing, Caroline propped herself up on her elbows. "Seriously? I was talking to myself?"
Her friend poked her head out, expression equally tired but eyes kind even as her mouth twisted deviously. "Don't worry. No one important thinks you're any crazier than before."
"Gee, thanks."
Bonnie responded with a deep nod of her head before disappearing back into the commode.
"But honestly, why?" Caroline said aloud, this time with intent. "I said I was done with this crap years ago."
"I said the same thing about magic," Bonnie answered. "Yet here we are."
"I really am sorry," said Caroline apologetically. And she was. The least she could have done was whisk her dear friend out of the city as soon as humanly possible. Once her favor to Klaus had been fulfilled, Caroline had ensured her bags were already in the trunk of the car and had done her damnedest to take the long way around to Baton Rouge.
Bonnie at last emerged, fully clothed but for the boots that lay upon the second bed. Her style had matured with her visible age in the past ten years, as she'd traded slinky, fashionable tops for fitted, equally fashionable if calmer shirts. With her hair cropped so close to her face she looked every bit the casual working woman in her weekend jeans. Age combined with early experience had added a few lines to her expression, yet it somehow served to make her appear a little witchier as well. Her innocence had long been replaced with shrewd conniving.
In somewhat crude terms, Caroline had to admit that Bonnie was one hot middle-aged woman.
"I just have one question," her friend asked.
Why Klaus? Why help him? Why help an abomination brat who lacks even the slightest modicum of manners?
But to Caroline's surprise, her friend sat down beside her and posed her question gently and very, very differently. "Why stop here?"
That… was a good question, Caroline had to admit.
Baton Rouge was hardly a significant distance, maybe an hour or so away from the opulence of New Orleans by car. So putting space between her and Klaus was barely effective. And while a nice enough city, it wasn't exactly on her list of Grand Places to Visit in Her Undead Life (and yes, she had such a list named precisely that). About the only pull she could name without humiliating herself was that Baton Rouge had just as delightful an assortment of homemade Cajun cuisine as its sister city. Even that was too shallow to be a legitimate excuse.
So with honesty that pained her, Caroline admitted, "I don't know if I really want to leave."
Bonnie crisscrossed her legs, nodding sagely.
Now that the dam had cracked, Caroline felt the overwhelming urge to keep talking. Her words spilled over in a tumbling force. "It's not like I don't realize how stupid and insane this is. And it's not like he's changed so much that you can just look at the guy and say, 'Hey, wow, you redeemed yourself! Good for you! And your daughter is just a stellar example of that!' Because, let's face it, he's pretty much exactly the same rude, violent, mean person he's always been, and that brat is exactly what you'd expect. And don't even get me started on her mom, even if she has apparently mellowed the hell out since betraying us all to this very same person! I mean, ugh, is it bad enough I've already slept with the guy, do I really need to make it worse with emotional attachment?"
An eyebrow shot high on Bonnie's face. "Is that a rhetorical question?"
Caroline groaned and flopped back on the mattress. "I don't even know anymore. He's got me all confused. I put all this behind me years ago. I don't even know why I came here."
Bonnie remained quiet for a long, uncomfortable stretch of time. Then, with disturbing softness, she said, "But you did. And you're still pretty much here." When Caroline just stared at her, she kept her face blank and said, "I think if you meant to leave, you'd be long gone. And I think if he was going to go after you, he would have by now."
Now, why did that hurt so much? Caroline turned her head to hide her wince.
"I also think," added Bonnie in softer tones, "that you should talk to Elena if you want advice."
Caroline had no need to ask why. The parallels were there: girl falls for undead, violent psychopath despite knowing better, and is scorned for even entertaining the idea of pursuing things further.
"Maybe," she conceded.
But before she could even halfway entertain the idea of pulling out her phone to text their mutual friend, something banged heavily against the locked door. Caroline sprang up with inhuman speed, grabbing Bonnie by the arm and yanking her behind the bathroom wall before a second blow exploded through the room with the cracking intensity of a gunshot. Splinters sprayed and ricocheted.
Snarling, Caroline said, "That is not the way to come after a lady!"
"A real lady doesn't run, baby vamp," a familiar voice said—lacking a distinct accent, which both wounded and stunned her. Caroline began to step forward, but within the space of a breath dark, catlike eyes bore down into her with fiery potency.
"Marcel," she stated flatly.
The man shot her a cynical smile before his gaze grazed over Bonnie. "Hello again."
Bonnie set her jaw and stared back.
"Why, Hope is fine, thanks for asking," said Marcel with mock pleasantry. "And your flight has been reimbursed, so thanks for letting us know you'd miss it."
Her head held high, Bonnie said, "That was never my problem to begin with."
"No, with you witches, it never is," Marcel agreed. The air around him seemed to darken. "French Quarter or Bennett, witches are all the same deep down inside."
"Get out," Caroline snapped.
His demeanor immediately smoothed over to a more pacifying state. "Now, wait one moment, baby vamp. Once I go, you're coming with me." He cast a sideways glance to Bonnie. "Your cougar friend can always come with, but you're still the main priority."
"Call me a cougar again," Bonnie said with chilling calm, "and I'll help detach your eyeballs so you can experience watching yourself die."
Marcel smiled sharply at her response. Caroline couldn't help but feel she had somehow landed in the midst of a moment of creepy supernatural pickup artistry—only she wasn't sure if the moves were on his or Bonnie's end.
Evenly, Caroline said, "Are you going to drag me kicking and screaming? I promise, we can take you. Even if you are his protégé."
His wicked eyes roamed the lines of her face. Whatever he was searching for, he found it, because the curve of his mouth was sly. "Now, why can you suddenly not bear to say Klaus's name?"
"I can," she retorted even as her ears lit up.
Marcel's good humor vanished. "Look, this is none of my business. And quite frankly, if Klaus finds out I came after you, he'd have my head on a pike to set an example. Even if I was his protégé," he added sardonically.
"So why come?" Bonnie asked frigidly.
The line of Marcel's mouth hardened and set. "I'd be a fool not to encourage one of the few good things in Klaus's life. Regardless of what he's done or what he is, there are two relatively good things about him: how he loves his daughter, and how you affect him."
Caroline folded her arms beneath her breasts, telling herself not to waver. "That doesn't make him my responsibility."
With a shrug, Marcel only said, "It's just strange that after all you've done for him, you'd run now. And with such pathetic results."
Oh, she should have gone further, Caroline realized. Her teeth clamped together almost painfully as she considered pouncing Marcel and tearing out his throat. Yet she also berated herself for her silly, private thoughts: how the notion of Klaus pursuing her had made her tingle with excitement and desire; the idea of being around him with his daughter gone and selfishly taking his time alone; hoping that once she sent Bonnie back to Oregon she could get in touch with him again and pick up where they left off….
But all of that was ridiculous. Fantasies of a teenage girl who refused to stay completely buried, the returning memories of a life she tried to leave behind but, ultimately, could not completely escape. Adulthood seemed constantly out of her reach, and Caroline had to wonder just how often Klaus was going to force her to slide back into her petty old ways.
Even if those petty old ways were always a part of her… and that part of her Klaus found desirable.
In that moment Caroline realized the ultimatum placed before her, and the expectant stares of her friend and Klaus's confidante. She had a choice to make, to stay or go, and just as before she was no closer to an easy answer.
As though reading her mind, Marcel stated, "I'm not leaving until you make a decision, baby vamp."
A decision, or his?
Didn't matter, apparently. Caroline closed her eyes and sank down on the bed, burying her face in her hands as Bonnie wrapped comforting, solidifying arms around her. But even with that reassurance, Caroline knew Bonnie had been right before.
She needed to call Elena.
A/N: One more chapter to go. It seemed fitting to end on Klaus's POV since we started with Caroline's. I am a couple episodes behind on each show, but I hope everything remains relatively in-character.
Critiques always welcome-and next chapter, we'll see if it ends in a way anybody either expects or wants!