The Wolf

by yokan87

When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined. [It's The Originals Season 1, but Caroline is a witch and she's pregnant with Klaus' child.]

18. S01E18: An Unblinking Death

A/N: You guys! The Wolf got nominated for a KC Award, along with two other stories of mine. Holy crap! Thank you so much to everyone reading and commenting and kudosing and to whoever nominated this story for an award. I'm so flattered!

This chapter hasn't been beta'ed and I am HAVING ISSUES right now. lol I know I say this all the time, but I'm SUPER NERVOUS and as soon you read it you'll understand why. I really hope you guys enjoy it! Please, forgive me for all the mistakes you'll surely find. I did my best!

Also, holy c***, you guys! Last chapter got over 50 comments! =O I am SO incredibly flattered by your awesome support! I tried to go faster with this one, but... Like I said, I had ISSUES. lol But know that your messages were so appreciated and made me so, so, so happy and excited about continuing this story!

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"Can I help you find something, Niklaus?" Elijah offers courteously after hours listening to his raucous efforts around the house.

His brother has gone through four rooms already, leaving a trail of destruction behind him as he searches through shelves, desks, closets, wardrobes, dressers, trunks and anything else he can find, grunting incoherently as he does so.

Elijah was kind of enjoying it at the beginning, the dull satisfaction of rattling Niklaus' cage without moving a single finger. He knows exactly what he's looking for, of course - and he also knows that Klaus will never find it because he was very meticulous with hiding this precious item he so desperately seeks. Aggravating his brother wasn't why he did it, but he has to admit that it is indeed quite vindicating - not to mention entertaining - to watch him squirm, especially after yet another betrayal.

Now, however, Klaus' fruitless struggle has started to lose its novelty. It was fun for the first hour or so, but Elijah's grown tired of all the noise Niklaus makes as he tears down the house. The moodier he grows, the noisier he gets. He cannot stand to suffer quietly; the entire world needs to be aware of his fraying temper, loudly. Dramatic to the last strand of hair on his head, his little brother.

"Yes," Klaus grumbles as he pulls books out of the shelves in the study room. If he touches Elijah's collection of rare editions there will be war under their roof. "In fact, I believe you can. I'm looking for a book. About yay big, filled with our mother's most powerful spells. It appears to have been misplaced."

Elijah arches an unimpressed eyebrow, taking a seat behind the desk. "How very mysterious."

"Indeed. At first I feared the witches had succeeded in their efforts to obtain it, but considering their last attempt ended with me relieving a rather large tattooed gentleman of his hands, I began to wonder if the thief wasn't a bit closer to home." Klaus turns to him, scowling. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, brother."

"Well, admittedly, I did have a theory that your sudden interest in mother's grimoire was in some way related to whatever foolishness you've been conducting with the Crescent wolves. Therefore, I took it upon myself to carefully place it where naughty, little fingers could not pry." Elijah punctuates his sentence with a slight curl of his lips.

"And here I thought you of all people would understand I am simply trying to help those wolves, play Samaritan to the abused, champion to the underdog." He pauses, smirking, "So to speak."

"How splendidly noble of you."

Klaus scrubs a hand over his face, dropping the pretense of politeness, no longer keeping the bite out of his voice. "Have you ever considered that, like you, I am trying to keep Caroline safe, using our mother's magic to empower the people who have currently taken her in so that they are capable of protecting her?"

"Yes. Unless, of course, they decide to use that power to seek retribution for decades held in exile, in which case Caroline will suddenly find herself in the middle of an uprising, one that will only provoke further violence." Elijah stands to his feet, pointing a finger to his brother. "Your job, and I believe I made myself clear about it, is to get the mother of your child back to this home, where she will be safe under our protection. Unless you have resigned yourself to your daughter being born in a swamp."

"And however would you have me do that, Elijah?" Klaus questions, gesticulating frantically. "I can't cuff Caroline to a bed and force her to stay. I have asked her to return, I have told her this is her home. She doesn't want to come back."

"Well, convince her. If you can use your charm to sweet-talk the werewolves, all of whom loathe you, into going against the pledge they've signed, then you can surely put that nasty tongue of yours to better use and convince her to come home."

A shadow crosses his brother's eyes, and Elijah knows what's going through his mind even before he says it.

"Why don't you give it a try?" he sneers, schooling his face not to betray anything, which in turn betrays everything. "What was it that you said? That you would take whatever you want? I won't let anything get in my way, Niklaus. Not even you." Elijah cocks an eyebrow at his appalling attempt at copying his voice. The accent is atrocious. "Well, then. Go ahead. Confess your love, Elijah. Tell her how desperately you miss her."

So typical... He always finds a way to turn an accusation around and somehow make himself out to be some kind of victim. Niklaus, a victim. How so very ludicrous. Elijah does not rise to the bait, though, considering his brother calmly for a moment. "Do you want to know the truth, Niklaus? I would, gladly, if I thought there was any chance it would find echo in her, if it would bring her back. At this point, hurting your feelings is positively the last item on my list of concerns. But despite all your paranoid fabrications, I know better. What I ask myself is... Why haven't you done that yet? How much longer do you intend to hide from your responsibilities to that woman and her child behind some deluded idea that she's better off there, away from you and our family?"

"You don't know -"

"Oh, but I do know," Elijah cuts him off, tersely. "Your logic is absolutely flawed and nothing you've done for the past month and a half makes any sense, but I happen to speak fluent Niklaus. You hurt her, and now you're scared of facing the consequences. You've realized you have actual expectations to live up to, and stakes will be even higher when your child is born, and it terrifies you - of course it does. For one thousand years, you've lived for no one but yourself. You've satisfied no one else's needs but your own. Whenever things didn't go your way, or anyone defied your tyrannical rules, you just stabbed them with a dagger and left them to rot in boxes until you felt either gracious or bored enough to let them out. But that won't work with Caroline. It won't work with your daughter. Now, you have to make amends, correct your mistakes, and you're finally starting to understand how painful it is to care about disappointing someone who has no familial obligation whatsoever to let you off the hook. Caroline's not me, she's not Rebekah. She never took an oath. She doesn't have to forgive or tolerate you. You actually have to earn her respect, and that just drives you out of your mind. Am I close?"

Klaus smiles bitterly, eyes slitted. "What are you now? My new therapist? At least Camille was easy on the eye."

"I'm better than a therapist. I'm your brother. And it is beyond me why I still care, because it is clear you are hell-bent on self-destructing, even when life smiles at you in a truly miraculous way that you don't even deserve. You've spent so long, Niklaus, soaked in darkness that you believe the natural way of things is for life to be miserable, grim and grey. For hatred to come to you as easily as breathing. You revel in it, because it's easy. It's simple. And selfish. God forbid you ever find anything that brings you real joy, or worse - happiness."

Klaus' face twists into a grimace, the glint in his eyes positively mutinous. "Just give me back mother's grimoire and stay out of my life, Elijah."

"Would if I could, brother," he replies at last, around a deep sigh. "Unfortunately, as it was one hundred years ago, your life is my life, too. You risk turning New Orleans into a war zone. And I will not let that happen."

"The drums of war were beating long before we returned. I suggest you use a little less of this," he motions his hands like a mouth talking. "And a little more of these," Klaus finishes, touching his ears and pursing his lips in a discontent pout as he storms out of the room.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"That's it, just take deep breaths. Inhale... And release... Again."

Caroline keeps her eyes closed, trying to block out all the other sounds and focus only on Eve's voice. It helps, she said, but it's really freaking hard, especially when she's so uncomfortable lying on a comforter on the wooden floor with her knees bent, her legs slightly apart, trying to prop herself up on her elbows.

Deep breaths. In... Out... This reminds her of the yoga classes she took a few years back, the instructor trying fruitlessly to teach her how to control her diaphragm. "Your breathing is all wrong", she kept saying, but no matter what Caroline did, she never seemed to grasp what the right way of breathing was. "I'm freaking alive, aren't I? Then I must be doing something right, goddamnit", she grumbled - very lowly, to no one in particular - when she walked out of the class to never go back.

Now, years later, she's starting to regret that decision. Maybe mastering the not-as-involuntary-as-one-might-think movements of her diaphragm would be really helpful during birth. Not that Caroline ever thought she would be doing this in such a… old-fashioned way.

"Breathing is the secret. It helps you focus, keeps your mind distracted from the pain and discomfort," Eve explains. "It keeps you relaxed and allows you to hear exactly what your body is asking of you, like the right moment to start pushing."

Well, personally, Caroline thinks relaxing is in direct contradiction to going into labor. She's in a moderate amount of discomfort after a while in this position and already the only message she's getting from her body is something on the lines of get me the fuck out of here.

Labor will be only about a billion times worse.

"Remind me again why I can't have an epidural?"

"You don't need an epidural," Eve says, smiling. "You're just worried."

"You think?" she snaps. "You haven't seen me freaking out, Eve. I'm worried now; when a little person starts pushing to come out of me, I'll go full birthzilla. You sure I can't do this in a hospital, with all the doctors and the drugs?"

"Honey, the werewolves have been having babies out here since before you were born. I've delivered dozens of babies myself."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" With some difficulty, Caroline pushes herself up into a sitting position. Every day is an adventure trying to figure out where her gravity center has gone off to. "I'm not a werewolf. Not even close. And don't tell me my child is, because unless you tell me werewolf babies are born the exact same size of a puppy, it doesn't make a difference."

Eve chuckles, shaking her head. "Stop worrying, Caroline."

"I'm sorry," she sighs ruefully. "I'm sorry. But just so you know, you should expect to get snapped at a lot when this little decides to out. I'm a worrier, it's what I do. I worry about everything, and bringing a child into this world is only the most important thing I've ever done. We're mere weeks away from it and I still have no clue what the hell I'm doing with my life, so yeah, I'm a little concerned over here."

Eve leans forward, places a comforting hand on her shoulder, catching her eyes. "Breathe," she says. "Every new mom has a moment of insecurity. It's a huge responsibility. But when the time comes, you'll know exactly what to do. Trust me."

And she does. Caroline has been slowly but surely slipping into a state of panic as she gets closer to her due date, but all it takes is a few reassuring words from Eve and immediately she feels better. Sure, it's temporary relief, only until her mind can come up with new and improved ways to freak her out, but it at least keeps her from falling apart by losing it completely all at once. Eve has this aura of peace and harmony around her, exuding a kind of quiet confidence that makes it impossible for anyone to disagree with her. And even when you do, you just want her to be right so badly that you can't help but trust that she knows what she's saying.

When she first approached Caroline about delivering the baby, it sounded so crazy an idea that Caroline laughed. Caroline Forbes, having a baby in the middle of a swamp? It had to be a joke. But then Eve started introducing her to moms with toddlers and babies, and she realized it was serious. And more than that, Eve actually seemed to be very good at it.

The idea of not having any doctors - or drugs, mostly drugs - conveniently around still scares the shit out of Caroline. She's her mother's daughter, after all. Being ready and having contingency plans B, C, D and E is kind of her thing. But now she can't really imagine not having Eve there with her, even if she does end up going to a hospital. It would scare her all the same.

"You're right. I'm being difficult," she concedes. "But it's not just giving birth that's doing my head in. Actually, that might be the least of my concerns. Once I get the baby out I will have a baby. And then what? I don't know if I'm ready for this. I haven't read all the books I was supposed to, haven't done all the researches, watched all the millions of specialized YouTube channels, haven't talked to a pediatrician... What if I... well, suck?"

Eve tilts her head to the side and makes a face. "You're the only one who doubts yourself, Caroline. I don't think there's anything in this world you can't do, let alone be a mom. You'll be great."

She tries not to smile, but Eve's absolute certainty tug the sides of her lips upwards anyway. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

"I hope you're right. As fun as it is to imagine Klaus changing dirty diapers, I'm pretty sure that I'll be doing this alone," she mutters, bitterness edging into her voice.

Eve gives her an enigmatic look, shrugging. "I somehow doubt that."

Caroline narrows her eyes at the other woman. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying. You might -"

The loud roar of a motorcycle engine outside interrupts Eve. They both turn to the open door, craning their necks to try and see what's going on. No one is allowed to come this near the camp with any kind of vehicle because of the children running around.

"Stay here," Eve says, leaving to go check out what all the fuss is about.

"Eve!" Caroline whines. She could use the help getting up. On her own, she holds onto the bed and pulls herself to her feet. When she steps out, Jackson and Oliver are already approaching a guy she's never seen before on a motorcycle, parked right in the middle of all the tents and trailers - exactly where he's not supposed to be.

"Who the hell are you?" Jackson demands.

"Who's in charge here?" the man retorts.

"Who's asking?"

The man gives Jackson a good once over and, apparently satisfied with the conclusion he gets to, smiles.

And then everything goes up in the air.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus stifles a tired sigh as he hears Elijah crying out for him.

What has he done now?

"Niklaus!"

"Here we go," he mutters, putting down his brush and cleaning his hands with a cloth before walking out to the walkway overlooking the courtyard.

When he sees the desperate expression on Elijah's face, however, a cold shiver runs down Klaus' spine.

"There's been a bomb," Elijah says urgently. "In the Bayou." He pauses, swallowing down hard. "I can't reach Caroline."

His brother is not even done speaking before he's dashing out. Klaus is unaware of even thinking, but suddenly he's moving, jumping from the second floor and jetting out after Elijah.

They barely speak on the way to the Bayou - Klaus drives like a madman while Elijah keeps trying to reach Caroline, his grunts growing increasingly angrier every time he gets the voicemail beep.

Klaus' head is spinning, his pulse raging inside his skull. A bomb. Of all the things he's lost nights of sleep over, obsessively worrying about, a bomb has never been one of them. It never occurred to him, fighting a supernatural war against witches and vampires, that one of them would use something as banal and lowly as a bomb. He suddenly feels naive for disregarding such a human threat. It's easy to forget that, however powerful, werewolves - and witches - are still mortal.

They drop the car by the road and flash themselves the rest of the way to the camp. The scent of fire and blood and some other strong, acrid smell slam into his senses before the sounds consolidate. Screaming. Crying. Painful wails. He tries to quell his hammering heart, punching ferociously against his sternum, tries to smother the bile rising to his throat. But all his efforts to rein himself in are rendered useless when they finally get to the site of the explosion.

Fear lashes through Klaus as he takes in the devastation all around. He spots the remains of something bent and twisted in the middle of the camp, charred and still smoking. That's where the acrid smell is coming from, and suddenly he realizes what it is. "Wolfsbane," he tells Elijah. "The bomb had wolfsbane in it."

Whoever did this wasn't just looking to scare the wolves. They wanted to kill them. Once the werewolves trigger their curse, their bodies become naturally stronger, more resilient, and they can heal small wounds almost as fast as vampires. The attack was meant to weaken them, make them unable to recover from even non-lethal injuries whilst causing as much pain as possible. Those wounded fatally would be dead within minutes.

Elijah presses his lips tightly together, his eyes flashing. "Let's find her."

The damage wasn't small. The tents and some of the motorhomes closer to the explosion are ruined. There's blood all over, dozens lying around. Nobody seems dead, not the ones he can see, but some are in bad shape. The place is engulfed in chaos and it's hard to focus on anything over the sounds of mayhem. Klaus' eyes rake over every single person as they make their way through the camp, and when he sees a mane of blonde hair on the floor, for just a split-second, panic licks through him like wildfire. His mind isn't clear, and all he thinks is please, please, please, let it not be her, let this not be true, let her be alive.

"Oliver!" Elijah bellows next to him, catching sight of Jackson's sidekick.

The little man approaches them with murder in his eyes and a bright purple bruise on the side of his face. His light hair and clothes are all blackened and covered in dirt. He must've been close to the explosion.

"Caroline?" Elijah demands, going straight to the point.

Oliver bobs his head towards the cabin she's been sharing with that woman, Eve. "In there."

The two of them dash off towards the place, and Klaus notices the glass windows have been blown apart. He stops a few feet away, balling his hands into tight fists, unable to move any further. A paralyzing fear coils around Klaus' stomach like a snake, a foul taste in his mouth. He doesn't think he can take if Caroline... If she is...

He gives his brother a meaningful look, a silent plea passing between them. Elijah nods his head shortly and goes ahead first, his throat moving slowly as he swallows down nervously.

Klaus keeps his eyes trained on his brother's face, holding his breath. Elijah hesitates for a moment before pushing the door open. He takes a couple of steps in, and his shoulders immediately sag with relief. Klaus' heart lurches, the pressure in his chest easing away, and he takes a steadying breath at last. Elijah turns back to him, nodding, and only then he follows his brother into the cabin.

Caroline is sitting on a chair by the bed, her head bent low, hands folded across her lap. She looks disheveled; dirt on her hair, a tiny speck of blood on her cheek, her clothes sullied. She couldn't have been far from the explosion. Klaus' eyes rake over her with surgical precision, in search of any signs of injury, but she doesn't seem to be hurt. Not physically, at least. When he finally walks in, she lifts her head to look, and he can see her tear-streaked face. The pain and sorrow in her eyes hit Klaus like a punch to the stomach.

For a long moment, Caroline is all he notices, but then, slowly convincing himself she's safe, that he can look away and she won't vanish right before his eyes, he finally pays attention to her surroundings. Jackson is standing not far behind her, his face severely bruised, blood running down the sides of his head and staining his shirt. The expression on his face is hard and grim, his eyes darkened and feral. He looks stiff, like a person who tries to stop himself from shivering, and Klaus realizes he must be hurt, even though there's no pain registered anywhere on his face. All Klaus sees there is something he's extremely familiar with: wild rage.

The reason for Caroline's anguish and Jackson's rage is lying on the bed. Eve. Her face is stained with blood, but her skin is ashen, her lips pale like wax, her face awfully peaceful. But there's not a breath left in her lungs. Not a beat in her chest. She's gone.

He exchanges a look with Elijah.

"What happened?" his brother questions quietly.

"They attacked us," Jackson replies, his voice a low, angry rumble. "Those bloody vampires."

"How do you know it was the vampires?"

Jackson's eyes cut to them like thunder. "A guy rode in here on a motorcycle, took off his helmet and blew himself up, his tank filled with wolfsbane. Who do you think compelled him to do that? Those cowards," he snarls.

Elijah turns to Klaus, keeping his voice low. "I'll go find out who gave the order for this." He glances at Caroline, his gaze softening for just a moment before he turns away again. "Stay here."

Klaus feels a protest rising to his lips, but it drops almost as quickly. He looks back at Caroline, her short gasps of breath ridden with grief as she tries to swallow back the tears, and feels terribly inadequate. His presence is hardly associated with comfort. And he doesn't even know if Caroline wants him to be here. Elijah would certainly be better at it than he ever could, just as he was when she was struck by the cursed fever that almost cost them their daughter. Klaus retaliates, explodes in rage; he lashes out and avenges and self-destructs. Violence is the only way he knows how to process sorrow and sadness. Seeing Caroline like this... It makes him itch to spill blood.

He ran away from his responsibilities before, let his brother's collected sobriety take his place, because he couldn't bear to see Caroline in such pain and not be able to do anything to make it better. And just like then, he feels that the best he could do for her right now might to chase after the culprits for the attack and paint the city red with their innards whilst inflicting a slow, horrible death upon them for what they've done, even if the order came from Marcel. Klaus is exceedingly good at paybacks.

However... There's something different this time. Something bigger, stronger, holding him in place, keeping him from bolting. A new sense of accountability he never had before. He understands with sudden clarity that there is a job for him here that goes beyond whether or not he'll be any good at it. He wants to make sure Caroline will be ok, that she'll be safe and that the baby is unharmed, and he realizes... This is his part. No one else's. Doesn't matter if he hasn't got a clue of what to say, if Elijah would know how to soothe her pain more effectively. Being here, with her, is what a father should do, and for the very first time, Klaus feels like one, even if for terrible reasons.

They didn't just hurt the woman he loves, who happens to be pregnant. They hurt his family.

"I have to go check on the people," Jackson announces. He gives Caroline's shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. And then it's just the two of them.

She lets out a sobbing breath, wiping her face with the dirty back of her hands. Klaus shifts his weight on his feet, bowing his head, until his eyes settle on Eve's still form again. He recalls the last time he saw her, right after the fiasco at the witches' festival. How warm she was towards him, how understanding, even though he'd never spoken to her before. He'd seen her with Caroline around the camp, and knew they were sharing a cabin, so he figured they must be close, but on that night he felt just how much the werewolf woman really cared about her. They were friends. In a city where everyone wants everyone else dead, a true friend is as rare as a peaceful day. And now she's gone.

Sadness descends upon him, then, along with an impossible sense of loss. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, crouching down next to Caroline.

She keeps her eyes on her hands, covered in dirt and shaking. Klaus wants to reach out and steady her, but he holds back. "Eve was a good person," she chokes out.

"I know."

"She hadn't even triggered her curse yet. There wasn't a bad bone in her body."

"I'm sorry, Caroline."

She shakes her head, turning her face just enough to look at him. "What kind of monster would do that?"

He hates the ache on her face, hates the tears pricking at her eyelashes, the way her chin quivers. It pierces his heart, makes him want to put his arms around her and shield her from anything that would dare harm her. Klaus feels the familiar simmer of rage at the pit of his stomach as it rears its ugly head inside of him, bringing with it the undisputable certainty that he would burn down the whole world if anything ever happened to her.

"I don't know," Klaus replies softly. "But we will find out. And we will bring them to justice."

There's a long silence before she speaks again, tentatively. "Do you think... Do you think it was me?"

"What do you mean?"

"The target of the attack. Do you think they were aiming for me? For the baby?"

Klaus clenches his jaw. That was the first thing to cross his mind, in fact. Caroline has been at the heart of many of the attacks orchestrated across town. It's hard to tell what the goal behind this was - to hurt the wolves, to kill his child, to send him a message... Until they know for sure, no possibilities can be discarded. Whoever it was, they have to be annihilated. That's the only certainty.

If it really was Marcel, he would have more reasons to want to take down a few wolves than just Caroline, but getting her would be the perfect revenge on both him and Elijah. It could also be the witches, of course; they want the wolves gone as bad as the vampires and have also tried to murder the baby several times before, claiming she is the devil incarnate. Or it could be someone else entirely. In New Orleans, you never know. Friends are few and enemies never seem to stop climbing out of the sewers when you least expect.

Klaus' mind goes back to Genevieve. After completely ignoring her for days, he gave her a parting gift that is likely to have made her quite miffed: the mutilated hands of the man she sent into the compound to steal the grimoire. Part of him realized at the time that perhaps meekness was in order when dealing with a powerful witch, but temperance has never been one of Klaus' strongest marks, and he just couldn't stand the sight of her anymore. He figured he ought to make a strong point in order to get the message across. Now he wonder if his petulant impulsiveness has made yet another innocent victim.

He avoids her eyes as he speaks, swallowing past the uncomfortable lump in his throat. "I don't know. I suppose it could be anything."

Caroline takes another deep, broken breath, straightening her back. She looks long and hard at Eve, and then stands to her feet, wiping her eyes, her expression completely changed. Where there was only sorrow and grief, now there's a fire burning, like sheer determination.

"What are you doing?" he questions as he pulls himself up as well.

"I have to go help," she says, trying to walk by him.

Klaus puts his hands forward, standing rooted in her path. "You need to sit down for a bit, love. You've been hurt."

"I'm fine."

"What about the baby?"

Caroline places a protective hand on top of her belly. "She's ok."

"Still -"

"Klaus," she cuts him with an edge in her tone. "There are people out there who got seriously injured. Who are terrified. Elders. Children. People like Eve, who don't have the strength or the power to heal. They need help."

"It's not safe for you to stay here," he pleads. "Whoever did this could come back to finish the job."

"These people welcomed me here with open arms and I might be the very reason they were attacked. I'm staying," she says with a steadfast resolve Klaus knows only too well.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Good. You're welcome to help. They're your people too."

Klaus sighs as Caroline marches out of the cabin. He glances at Eve's body again, feels a pull in his chest. "I'm sorry," he mutters under his breath, covering her with a sheet before chasing after Caroline.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The air outside the cabin is noise and madness, and there are so many people in need of help that Caroline barely has any time to think. It's terrible, but she welcomes the chance to do something productive instead of letting grief consume her whole.

As far as she can tell, Eve was the only casualty, but some people got severely injured. Luckily, the worst cases seem to be wolves who had triggered their genes, so the healing process is quicker, although still made slower by the amount of wolfsbane in the bomb. She uses a few quick concoctions and a spell to ease away the pain and make them more comfortable while they heal.

The camp is overcrowded with people from all over the place, but the biker man seemed intent on reaching the Crescents, driving into the heart of their area. The chaos it generated, however, meant there were lots of children getting lost from their parents, people desperate to find family and friends and a few getting hurt as they tried to escape. Many have already fled, she notices. She can't help but feel responsible for that, too. It was her presence that dragged all these pilgrims here.

She's just finishing patching up the arm of a girl who got cut in the trees as she ran away from the explosion when a woman named Karen taps her on the shoulder, a grim look on her face. "You should come with me."

Caroline follows Karen for ten seconds before she starts to hear the biting sounds of a fiery argument. And the loudest - and angriest - voice is quite clearly Klaus'.

He said he wouldn't let her out of his sight, but there was a lot to be done around the camp and it seemed to her like it was a waste of manpower to have a hybrid just walking around her like a shadow when the wolves could clearly use a hand with the heavy lifting and carrying the injured to the treatment cabins. Not that the werewolves were eager to take Klaus' help, or that he was all that happy to offer. But Caroline's persuasive glares spoke louder in the end. If he was going to stay, he might as well make himself useful. They are distant relatives of his, after all, descendants of his clan. Even if they are not exactly warm toward him, they're still his people.

The amount of work quickly swamped both of them and they ended up getting separated. At least he was helping out, Caroline thought, going where he was needed rather than wherever she went. Maybe she should've been the one to keep an eye on him.

She finds him bickering with Tucker, the ribs guy, and his wife, Fatima.

"What is going on here?" she demands, pulling Klaus back a little.

Julian, the couple's teenage son, is lying on a gurney on the ground, his face sick and pale, coughing up blood. There's a large wound right under his left shoulder, and it seems to have pierced his lungs. He just turned thirteen a couple of weeks ago, she was at his birthday. Too young to have triggered his curse.

"Oh God," she mutters grimly.

"Apparently these parents of the year here want to see their son dead within the hour," Klaus accuses.

Caroline frowns, confused, looking from Klaus to Tucker and Fatima. "What?"

"That freak is trying to poison him!" Tucker spits out angrily, pointing a finger at Klaus' face.

Caroline puts a hand on his forearm and gently pulls it down, more to his safety than anything else. It won't take much for Klaus to rip off his finger or break his arm like a twig. "Poison?"

"I'm simply trying to feed him my blood. In case it isn't obvious, the child is going to die."

"You vampires are the reason this happened in the first place," Tucker yells again while Fatima quietly weeps. "Stay away from our son!"

"He's a werewolf, too," Caroline blurts out before Klaus can retort with something offensive and absurd that will only anger them further. Werewolves consider vampires to be abominations. It is in their nature to hate them, oppose them, fight them. To drink their blood is unthinkable, an outrage, especially to a proud and old pack such as the Crescents. After everything they've suffered at the hands of vampires over the years, and what has happened today... The last thing they want is to accept help from one. But Klaus isn't wrong. Julian is going to die. At this point, he wouldn't even survive the long ride to the nearest hospital. "Before he was turned into a vampire, he was like you."

"Can't you do anything, Caroline?" Fatima asks, her voice small and frail. It breaks Caroline's heart; she's still pregnant but already she's been in Fatima's place, afraid of losing her child. She knows exactly what how suffocating and despairing this helplessness is.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I can't heal him. All I can do is remove the pain, but... He's dying, Fatima. He's too severely injured, his body is filled with wolfsbane and he hasn't triggered his gene yet. He's too weak to resist. Klaus' blood will heal him and in a day or two it'll be completely out of his system." She pauses, lifting her eyes to Tucker. "You've been gracious in welcoming me into your camp, even though I'm not a werewolf."

"Your daughter will be one of us," Tucker grumbles.

"Yes. And that's because of him," she says, taking a hold of Klaus' arm. "He's where the werewolf side came from. I know you don't want to do this, and I can totally understand. But I also know that I would do anything to save my daughter. It's just a tiny bit. Please."

Tucker and Fatima exchange a look heavy with implication, their faces contorted with doubt and anguish, and then they turn away. Caroline nods at Klaus but, before he crouches down next to the boy, she motions for him wait, walks away for a moment and returns with a bowl. It'll probably be easier for them if they don't have to see their kid feeding directly from Klaus' vein.

He bites on his hand and lets the blood drip into the bowl. Caroline's lips curl into a bare hint of a smile as she takes it from him, holding on his arm for balance as she kneels down next to Julian.

"It's ok, sweety," she whispers. "You're going to be alright. Drink this." She puts a hand on the back of his neck to crane his head and takes the bowl to his lips. He's so weak he doesn't even know what she's giving him, just makes a face at the taste. But a second later, his entire body goes slack and he stops coughing, his breath normalizing as he lies back down. The color returns to his cheeks, still shy because of all the blood he lost, but the wound on his shoulder is instantly closed.

Caroline sighs in relief, looking up at the parents as their eyes brim with tears.

"You're welcome, by the way," Klaus grunts, and Caroline slaps his leg as she pulls herself up, glaring.

She wraps a hand around his arm and drags him away then, leaving the parents to care for their son. "Don't push it."

"They would've let their child die out of some misbegotten prejudice -"

"Because they're scared. Everyone thinks it was the vampires who attacked the camp. They're not fans to begin with and right now they're feeling less than gracious towards anyone with fangs. Just... Let them be. They've suffered enough." She pauses, her tone softening. "And you did something very nice for that kid. You were incredibly rude…" Klaus rolls his eyes. "But you insisted to save him. Thank you."

He nods almost bashfully, that blazing indignation dissolving into something far gentler as his eyes settle on her. "Caroline -"

"Help!" They both swivel their heads around, to a guy standing close to the trailers. "There's someone trapped under here! I need help!"

Caroline just looks at him and Klaus is already stalking off towards the guy. The effort doesn't even register on his face when he lifts the entire thing up on his own while the other man dives underneath to rescue whoever got trapped. It's like the trailer is made of cardboard.

Everything about this situation is awful: her friend is dead, people are injured, scared, in need of help, of guidance. But all the work and the mayhem are having a numbing effect on her. Caroline is certain that, once the adrenaline wears off and there's no one else to patch up, no more cries for help, no more lost children to be reunited with their moms, the true weight of this tragedy will hit, hard, and it'll all feel a thousand times worse. But suddenly she finds her lips curling up into a tiny, timid smile.

Klaus stayed to keep an eye on her and, instead, he's been going up and down the camp, helping out despite the obvious glares being shot in his direction. He'll find no warm feelings for him in this place, but that doesn't matter in a time like this. Klaus just ignores the general scorn and goes wherever he can help. And, for the most part, she didn't even need to ask. Things would be a lot harder without a vampire around to give a hand. For starters, Julian would be dead.

Caroline's even afraid to think it, but... In the light of tragedy, he might actually be starting to show some progress.

She returns to the communal cabin, now turned into a makeshift infirmary to tend to the wounded, with mattresses spread on the floor so people can rest and heal while their werewolf genes fight the poison in their systems. Caroline stops by to check on some of the people she's already seen to and then goes back to mixing more of her concoctions. Eve taught her about this one, which only uses herbs native to the Bayou area. Her eyes fill with tears again and she starts crunching the herbs with a lot more intent.

And then another bomb goes off.

And another.

The whole structure shakes and rattles, there's a collective scream, followed by sobs and curses.

"Is everyone ok?!" she yells, blood turning to ice in her veins. Everywhere she turns there are terrified wide eyes, but nothing seems to have been affected here. The explosions were big, but it sounded like it came from a bit further, around the heart of the camp, where the biker man detonated the first bomb.

Once she's certain everyone's fine there, she goes out. Her head spins, blood draining from her face. For the second time today, she is engulfed by the sensation of walking into a nightmare. People are running from side to side, screaming, crying... Her heart contracts painfully as an all too familiar panic crashes onto her.

She follows the dark smoke rising in the air and makes her way across the camp, going against the flow of people running from the explosions. Two of the motorhomes are on fire. She spots Oliver walking towards her, a little dizzy, nearly tripping over his own legs. Caroline rushes towards him, steadying him up.

"Are you ok?"

He coughs. "Yeah. Just my ears are ringing."

"What happened?"

"More bombs. Under the trailers," he says between coughing fits.

Caroline curses under her breath. "Was anybody there?"

Oliver shakes his head. "He yelled for us to get away. We all ran. Some people were thrown off their feet, but... I don't think anybody got hurt."

"Who yelled?"

"Klaus."

Caroline's stomach turns as she whips around to the fire. The trailers are completely destroyed. Just huge metal carcasses, all blackened and twisted into an unrecognizable form. No one could've survived a blast of that magnitude if they'd been near enough. If Klaus told everyone to run, that means he saw the bombs first. And if he did, he would've run himself. So where the hell is he?

She lets go of Oliver, her eyes frantic as she searches around for him. "Klaus!" she yells, her voice coming out scratchy with despair. "Klaus!"

"Caroline." She spins around, but it's Jackson. He trots over to her, grabs a hold of her wrist when she tries to go in the direction of the explosion. "You can't go there."

"Have you seen Klaus?" she asks uneasily, not quite keeping the rising exasperation at bay. God, her heart his beating so loud she can barely hear Jackson.

He shakes his head apologetically. "I only heard him. He saved a lot of lives."

"But where is he?!" She shakes him off, starts ambling again. "Klaus!"

Despair claws at the back of her throat, her vision blurring from the tears pricking behind her eyes as she continues to call out to him. Horrible fright uncurls inside of her and Caroline feels the last of her strength ebbing away. She covers her mouth with her hand and bites down a sob. It's too much. Today has been too much. The attacks. All the people who got hurt, who lost their homes, who went through the horror of trying to locate their loved ones in the middle of all that chaos. Eve.

If anything happens to Klaus...

"Klaus!" A howl of pure anguish, hot tears flee-flowing down her face now.

"Caroline, you can't go there," Jackson repeats in a patient tone, trying to gently hold her back while she fights him off. "It could explode again."

"He could need help!"

"He's immortal."

"It was a fucking bomb, Jackson!" she snaps at him.

"Caroline."

"I have to find him!"

"No. Look." Jackson bobs his head to the side.

She follows Jack's gaze and finds him, coming out of the wreckage of the farthest trailer with someone in his arms. He's limping, his face ashen and hardened like he's concentrating really hard on staying up, blood covering his left cheek and his neck. He's slow, too slow for someone of his strength, someone who can lift an entire freaking trailer with his pinky. He's hurt.

But he's alive.

Alive.

She draws a hoarse, sobby breath, feeling as something tiny and fragile tugs inside her chest, relief washing through her.

"That's Jimmy," Jackson says urgently as he rushes towards Klaus, taking the boy from his hands. Jimmy whimpers, and Caroline sees a large gash on one of his legs. It looks ugly, but not fatal. "Oliver!" Jackson shouts, beckoning his friend over. "Take him inside. Ask someone to bandage his leg," he commands, passing the boy over to Oliver, who then rushes with him towards the main cabin.

And then Klaus collapses, falling on his hands and knees with a loud, pain-laden grunt.

Caroline lets out a horrified gasp when she finally gets a look at his back. It's... Destroyed. Burnt. Bloodied. His clothes frayed, torn apart. Chunks of metal and wood, some as big as stakes, are buried deep into his flesh, keeping his wounds from healing. The amount of pain he must be in...

"There..." he grits out with difficulty, blowing air through his nose. "There could be... More..."

Caroline looks at Jackson, who nods with understanding. "I'll take my guys. We'll search through the whole camp." He turns, already barking orders at his men.

"Klaus..." Caroline whispers, leaning over. "Can you stand?"

It takes him a moment, but he manages to pull himself up, nearly crumpling down again in the process. She catches him, putting one of his arms around her shoulders, careful not to touch his wounds. "Come on," she murmurs, guiding him across the camp to Jackson's private cabin. It's further away and they'll get more privacy there. She's sure Jackson won't mind, given the circumstances.

The walk is slow and arduous. Klaus is stiff, his teeth clenched so tightly Caroline can see the strain on his jaw, trying really hard not to give in to pain. When they make it to the cabin, she helps him to a chair, making sure he straddles it so she can have a good look at his back. Klaus all but collapses on the chair, his knees completely buckling under his weight. The way his breath is shallow and harsh, the damage probably goes much deeper than what she sees on the surface. Hemorrhages, shattered ribs, lacerated organs... He'll be dead in just a bit if she's not quick. Not that it would be entirely bad; if he's dead, he won't feel any pain while she works on cleaning his wounds to allow his body to work its magic. But Caroline doesn't think she can stomach any more deaths today. Not even a temporary one.

Now that they're inside, the smell of burned flesh fills her nostrils. She swallows down hard as bile rises to her throat, mashing her eyes shut to keep from retching. How Klaus can stand all of this, fight through the pain, walk out of that fire with someone in his arms and his body not only in shatters, but likely filled with wolfsbane as well, is a testament to how strong he is. No one else in this world would've survived that explosion in one piece. The threat of tears pricks at her eyes again, but she shakes them off, drawing the air in slowly.

Ok, Caroline, she thinks to herself. Focus.

She searches around a bit for a bowl and fills it with water, taking also a piece of cloth and a pair of scissors. The first thing she does is a spell for the pain. The way his wounds are, it won't matter that much, but it'll at least help him relax. Immediately he seems to recover some of his energy, which she takes as an incentive to keep going. Then, she starts to cut his clothes off of him, as gently as possible.

"I hope you didn't like this jacket," she speaks with a lightness she does not feel, trying to distract her own mind. Klaus winces every now and then, but bears it incredibly well.

The work is slow and methodical; parts of his shirt have literally adhered to his skin where the burns were worse, and she tries to cut around those, removing the pieces of charred cloth bit by bit. It's clear Klaus used his body to shield that boy from the explosion, absorbing the worst of the blast. Yes, he's an immortal, but other vampires would've been toast for good there. Who knows what the hell happens when an Original gets blown to shreds? Do they grow back?

Twice today Klaus has saved the lives of people he couldn't care less about, and not because anybody asked him to. He just... Did the right thing. The heroic thing. He's been around all day, helping, making himself available and useful. She'd rather not have to be cutting pieces of his clothes off his skin now, but... He did something good. Something great. And Caroline can't help the little part of her that feels proud of him. The greatest part of her, however, is still very much scared.

Once she's done with the scissors, she helps him remove the remains of what used to be very expensive shirt and jacket. It gives an even clearer view of the terrible injuries he's sustained. It'll take forever to pull it all out piece by piece. It'll be torture and he won't resist it. Caroline will be damned if she'll have Klaus dying in her arms today.

"Ok," she says, taking a step back. "I'll remove it all at once, but it's gonna hurt like a bitch. Are you ready?"

"Do your worst," he hisses out.

Caroline shuts her eyes, puts her hands forward and concentrates. It's a very delicate spell and she never used it to remove little bits of stuff from someone's body. If she goes too deep, she risks ripping him to shreds. But it's Klaus, and it's important, so she'll get this goddamn thing right if it's the last thing she does.

She chants lowly under her breath, feeling as magic roars through her skin, heat rushing through her as the spell starts to take effect. A light breeze sweeps in through the windows, and then, all at once, all the debris stuck to Klaus' flesh and attached to his skin are pulled out. A roar of pain rips from his chest, his whole body going rigid, but almost as soon as it's over, he starts to heal. Caroline wets the cloth in the water, wiping the blood off his neck and back. She feels his heart hammering away inside of him, his breathing harsh still, but not like there's something scratching his lungs, and slowly it goes back to normal.

In a few seconds, his skin looks as smooth as ever. Not a single scar to tell the story of his heroics.

Klaus stands up, turns around. He still looks unusually pale, blood stains around his ears and the corners of his mouth, but his expression has softened considerably, even if she can still see the ghost of pain in his eyes. The way he looks at her just then - with a warm intensity, a desperate kind of need that finds echo in her chest - disarms something in her. It's like the flip of a switch: Caroline goes from holding up to falling apart.

Suddenly, she feels everything - exhaustion, fear, grief, it all hits her like a blow, aching and heavy. Her composure slips away from her, all that strength that's kept her up and going all day drains away as though someone has just pulled a plug inside of her. For a few heartbeats, she just stares at him before her face crumples and violent sobs wreck through her chest. She finds herself reaching out, burying her face in the curve of his neck, and being instantly embraced with just as much ardor. Klaus places a gentle, long kiss on the top of her head, and it's ridiculous that he is comforting her when he's the one who almost got blown up just now, but it's exactly what he's doing, and she needs this - needs him - more than she needs her next breath.

She lets it all out, the whirlwind of emotions that have struck her cold today. All the grief, the loss, the helplessness. The terror that shook her to her core. For a minute there, all reason abandoned her and the fact Klaus is nearly indestructible didn't reach the rational part of her brain. All she could think was that a bomb had gone off and it was virtually impossible for anyone, supernatural or not, to survive that. All she could think was that she'd lost him, that she'd lost Eve and then she lost Klaus, and it was too much for her to bear.

She wants to scream, to rage and to disappear. But, for now, she resigns herself to wrapping the scent of him - not of ash, or blood, or wolfsbane; of Klaus - around herself and never, ever coming out.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It's a powerful outpour of emotions, an avalanche of anguish and dread and anger, all mashed into one, and by the way her fingers are digging into his skin and how tightly she's holding him, Klaus knows that Caroline just needs him to be there. No words necessary. For once this is something he can give her without botching it all up. He breathes her in, shutting his eyes as his hand slides up and down her back in a soothing caress.

She's not the only one who needs a moment, though. Klaus takes a second to gather his thoughts, quiet down the riot in his own head. He's no stranger to violent attacks of this sort, but it's not every day he gets subjected to such agonizing, incapacitating pain he can barely tolerate it. His wounds have all closed, and the ache itself is gone, but the phantom sensation of it lingers, echoing across his nerves.

He wasn't sure there would be anything left of him, to be honest. He could feel himself disintegrating under the heat and the sheer force of the blast. He was about to dash off when he saw the boy, a gash on his leg keeping him from getting away fast enough, paralyzed in fear as he realized he was going to die there. Klaus didn't really think; he just grabbed the kid and turned his back to the parked trailer, ground his teeth hard, and hoped for the best.

He wasn't scared, didn't fear for his life or anything of the sort, but the last thing that occurred to him right before the bomb went off was Caroline. If she was far enough away from there, if she could somehow get caught up in the explosions. He knew he'd be helpless to do anything about it, at least for a while, too weakened by the injuries he was about to sustain. If there was anything left of him at all, that is. And that made him worried - for a fraction of a second, anyway. Then everything went up in the air and there was no more room for anything but the excruciating pain, especially with his eardrums ripping apart and his vision exploding in a burst of white.

Now, with Caroline safe and in his arms, he finally relaxes, letting go of a breath that had been firmly lodged deep in his lungs for over a month. Despite the awfulness of everything, it's as though all the sharp edges of his soul have been temporarily soothed. It won't last long, he knows; the moment they leave this cabin, the outside world will be ready to charge at them again. And again, and again, until their enemies have been all taken down, one by one. The war isn't over. But for just the briefest of moments, he allows himself to pretend that it is. All that matters in the world to him is right here, in his arms.

Caroline cries until her tears are reduced to hitching breaths, and eventually she stops quivering. Klaus pulls gently away, slackening the embrace just to look at her. Her eyes are red and her face is devastated by grief. It crushes him to see her like this; makes him want to tear the ones responsible for causing her such heartache, limb by limb - with his teeth.

He puts a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. She's desolate, yes, but it surprises him to see such relief in her eyes, such tenderness.

"Are you really ok?" she chokes out.

He offers her the most sincere smile he can. "Never better."

"Do you even know what happens if you get blown up?"

"I suppose I never got to find out."

Their moment is interrupted by the cabin owner's inconveniently timed arrival. "Oh. I'm sorry," Jackson says, a little flustered. "I didn't mean to -"

"It's ok," Caroline says, stepping away from Klaus, much to his chagrin. She wipes away her tears with her fingers, and Klaus is astonished - and a little marveled - to see how quickly she pulls herself together, a competent armor snapping into place as she assumes a near professional posture. "How's everything?"

"We didn't find any more explosives. Seems like that was the last of it."

"Anyone else got hurt on the second blast?"

"No." Jackson fixes his eyes on Klaus then, a hard expression on his face, but a grateful look in his eyes. "What you did out there - alerting everyone and then protecting Jimmy... You saved a lot of people. Thank you."

The earnestness in his voice leaves Klaus a little thrown. He supposes he's not used to hearing people genuinely thanking him for anything - perhaps because he's not used to doing selfless deeds that warrant that kind of gratefulness. He doesn't know what to say; instead, he just nods.

"Anyway," Jackson continues. "I'll give you guys some privacy."

"Jackson," Caroline stops him before he turns around to leave. "He's gonna need to borrow one of your shirts."

"Absolutely not," Klaus objects.

Jackson smiles shortly, giving Caroline a pointed look and shutting the door behind him.

Caroline turns to him with a questioning frown.

"I'm not going to dress like a swamp boor."

"Really? You're gonna be a snob now?" She shakes her head, shuffling over Jackson's dresser and going through the drawers after a shirt.

"I have standards. These people wear flannel."

"Standards and no clothes."

She picks a plaid button shirt - what a surprise - in black and blue patterns. Klaus rolls his eyes, but doesn't resist when she helps him put it on. While he does up the buttons, she wets the cloth again and cleans some of the soot and dry blood still left on his face and neck. Then she smooths the shirt across his shoulders, the faintest hint of a smile that does not meet her saddened eyes tipping up the corners of her lips.

"You look handsome in official werewolf attire," she says.

"I didn't know you had a thing for werewolf attire."

"I don't," she says. Only for you, her eyes add.

He smiles, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, his hand cupping the side of her face.

So strong, his Caroline... A lesser person would've crumbled so spectacularly by now, but she relents, more resolute and courageous than ever. He's known she's made of tougher material than anyone ever gave her credit for for a long time, but even he feels like he's terribly underestimated her. Granted, her hand has been forced by less than favorable circumstances, but she's made it through. He watched her today, how people looked up to her with respect and admiration, how considerate she was, how careful. They're not even her people, and werewolves are a notably suspicious and proud group, but she has somehow won them over. They trust her, are willing to follow her lead. And all through chaos and grief, Caroline kept herself poised, perfectly in control, always focused on what had to be done rather than on her own feelings, eating away at her. It was only when it was just them alone, to his eyes only - and not before she'd taken care of him as well - that she broke down, picking herself back up right after. And Klaus has no doubt that she's ready to go back outside and start it all over again.

She's a natural born leader. Has always been. At the helm of the ship and in the eye of the hurricane is always where you'll find her. Never cowering, never running. And for once, Klaus is not jealous or worried that she might want to ditch him for the werewolves. He might feel like that in a bit, it's almost inevitable; right now, however, he's just proud. So extremely proud of his little witch, proving to be even more extraordinary than he thought despite her young age. Caroline Forbes never ceases to amaze him. No wonder both he and Elijah have been so desperately captivated; she's one in a million.

"I need to check in with Elijah," he speaks after a moment. "See what he's uncovered, tell him about the other bombs."

Caroline sighs, her shoulders sagging with resignation. "Ok."

"I would feel much better if -"

"I'm not leaving, Klaus," she says, mildly, her voice shaking a little, but with force behind it, and in a manner that does not invite debate. She holds his gaze steadily, her blue eyes wide and bright. "They need me here."

Klaus knew that would be her answer even before he'd finished his question, but he had to try. "Do promise, then, that if you see, hear or sense danger, you will run from it, not to it."

She puts three fingers up in a promise gesture. "I swear."

"And stay close to Jackson. He'll jump in front of a bomb for you, that one."

Her gaze slides away from his face. "I'm not sure that's a very reassuring thought at the moment."

"Caroline," he croons, cupping her face with both his hands. "Please, stay safe. Please."

She grins softly at him, covering one of his hands with her own. "I'll be ok. You stay safe, too. Try not to get yourself blown up, ok? Let's not find out what happens if you lose body parts."

Klaus' lips curve into a lopsided grin. "I'll do my best." He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, breathing her in one last time before stepping away.

Right before he walks out, Caroline calls him again. He stops, turns back to her. "Thank you," she says, her voice rich with affection and gratitude.

Klaus smiles and then blurs away.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The way everything unfolded in the Bayou, it seems too obvious that it was vampire business. Which is precisely why Elijah had a distinct suspicion that it wasn't. And he was right.

A stranger on a motorcycle blowing himself up with a tank filled with wolfsbane screams compulsion. It would've been only too easy to trace it back to the vampires. If they wanted to cause an impact, they would've done it with their own hands, sending their message with blood, like they did on the Fête de Benediction. Moreover, whatever differences Elijah may have with Marcellus, and however little his esteem for the man might be at the moment, he simply cannot believe that he would blow up bombs in the middle of the Bayou, knowing the damage he could've caused to innocent people - including a certain pregnant witch. Chances he would've hit anybody of interest were slim. Marcel is a vermin, but ultimately one with morals; he wouldn't put pregnant women and children in harm's way. There isn't much Elijah can believe coming from that man, but he does believe that.

He had to confirm it, of course, use a bit of raw strength to enforce that his patience is finished, so Marcel will do well not to test it further. A line was crossed today and peaceful resolutions are no longer on the table. From now on, threats will only be answered with force and any attempts against his or his family's lives will be met with the exact brutality it warrants. Given Marcel's response, Elijah is sufficiently convinced that the order for the attack in the Bayou did not come from his rather lavish living quarters in Algiers. If it was vampire doing, it was a rogue one, with their own agenda.

He gave Niklaus a full report on his findings when his brother called to inform him of the secondary explosions - the ones that nearly tore him to shreds, apparently. If the attacks were meant to taunt the Mikaelsons, then its purpose have most definitely been accomplished.

Elijah was on his way to the Lycée to interrogate the witches next, but Klaus wanted to do it himself. He could tell by the distinct thrum in his brother's voice that Genevieve would find herself in quite an unpleasant predicament. Elijah hardly thinks she would ever straight-out claim responsibility over the attacks, and Niklaus has always been more skilled in the arts of painfully extracting truths from uncooperative subjects anyway, so perhaps it was best that his brother conducted the interrogations himself. Klaus was out for blood, and for once Elijah did not tell him to restrain his most savage instincts. They hurt Caroline, killed her friend, nearly blew his brother apart... A private session with Niklaus' unleashed rage is the least whoever did this deserves.

As soon as that was resolved, Elijah was prepared to conduct another conversation with his brother reinforcing the importance of bringing Caroline back home, now more than ever. It surely wouldn't be hard to convince Niklaus to swallow his pride, given the circumstances; Caroline, on the other hand... Knowing her, she'd want to stick around to make sure everything and everyone would be fine and well cared for. Klaus said she refused to leave when he did, wanted to stay and help whichever way she could. She had a rough day, to say the least, and Niklaus, in a rare bout of selflessness and maturity, decided not to insist, afraid of starting a fight and making things even worse for her. But the matter would have to be discussed anyway, sooner rather than later.

Imagine his surprise, then, upon returning to the compound to find Caroline in her old room, sitting on her bed, absorbed in some distant thought.

Elijah halts, instinctively scrutinizing her for signs of injuries, wondering what else could've happened in the Bayou for her to come home. His mind immediately conjures up the worst scenarios - that she's been attacked again, that more bombs went off, that she's had another episode like the one that made her leave the compound over a month ago.

Physically, she looks ok. Fresh out of a shower, with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, comfortable in an oversized sweater. But the expression on her face is wholly poignant. She looks faraway, haunted, as though seeing something he cannot. Not for the first time, Elijah finds himself wondering whether staying in New Orleans was the right call for them, after all. Perhaps they should've just given up on this pointless war as soon as the link to Sophie Deveraux was broken and gone somewhere far, where their problems couldn't have followed and Caroline could've had the peaceful, uneventful pregnancy she deserved. Hindsight truly is the mother of all tortures.

Still, just the mere sight of her back at their home, in her room, alive, breathing, safe, is enough to quiet some of the riot that's been slamming through Elijah's head all day. He breathes out in relief, a tight knot of worry finally coming undone in his chest.

He knocks softly on the door, withdrawing her from her thoughts.

"Hi," she greets, blinking at him, a taut smile on her face that does not meet the grief in her overbright eyes.

"Didn't expect to see you here," he says. "Niklaus said you'd be staying in the Bayou."

"Yeah, well. I stayed while I was needed. They were preparing for Eve's funeral." She stops, swallows, then ploughs on. "It's, uhm... Very traditional and personal for the pack, so... I figured it wasn't appropriate for me to stay. I said my goodbyes and left."

"I hardly think they would've minded."

She waits a beat before shaking her head. "It didn't feel right."

"I'm so sorry, Caroline. My relationship with the wolves wasn't the warmest, but Eve always stroke me as a remarkable person."

"She was." Caroline's eyes rim with tears before she blinks them away. "Anyway. Did you find anything?"

"Only that it wasn't the vampires."

Her brows snap together. "Are you sure?"

"You can never be 100% sure of anything in this city, but I wouldn't put my money on it. If it was the vampires, it wasn't Marcel."

She hums thoughtfully. "It has to have been the witches, then. And if it was them..." She grinds her teeth, a fire in her eyes. "It really was aimed at me."

It was the first thing that occurred to Elijah, in fact. The attack was meant to scare Klaus more than it was meant to scare the wolves. They targeted the Crescents to show his brother that his dealings under the table, trying to undermine the other factions by empowering the werewolves, would bear consequences - and that they'd start by getting to what would hurt him most. The mother of his child was far more vulnerable in the Bayou than any of them would've believed, and if the werewolves were made stronger, their adversaries would fight even dirtier. It's exactly what Elijah warned him about.

But Caroline doesn't need to hear any of that right now. Either way, it's not her fault. She already lost a friend today, there's no reason why she should be made to feel guilty over it. Elijah can agree with his brother on at least one thing: the drums of war were rolling long before they arrived. If anything, it's what brought them here to begin with.

"I wish I could offer you something more substantial, but... At this point, we can't discard anything. Niklaus is investigating the witches as we speak. We might know more when he comes back."

She shakes her head, sadness and guilt radiating off her like steam. "It's my fault those people got hurt," she speaks darkly. "Wherever I go, people die. I shouldn't have taken this to them."

"Don't blame yourself, Caroline. You did no such thing."

"They were fine before me."

"Fine? Half of their pack was stuck in wolf form while the other half withered away in squalor. You gave them hope, you helped them figure out how to break the curse. They know they're being targeted as a form of retaliation for daring to have a voice, and you're the one who helped them find theirs. It's why they truly care about you."

"And what good did that bring them?" she counters flatly. "I was thinking... I would like to move back in", she starts tentatively. "If you'll still have me."

"You don't have to ask. This is your home, too."

"But I don't want bodyguards following me around like a shadow, telling me what to do."

Elijah grins. "I'm sure Niklaus can be persuaded."

She pauses, looking rattled and unsure. "Is he still seeing her?"

"No, he's not. Genevieve hasn't been here since before the festival, and I'm sure you noticed they had quite a spectacular fall out."

"Yeah, I heard," she mutters drily. "She was trying to steal from him."

"Not to condone my brother's actions, because I've been very outspoken in my displeasure with his... indiscretions. But rest assured, Caroline, there were no feelings there. He was in a worse place than usual, thinking less than he normally does, and saw an opportunity. He was using her. It was purely business. I know what Niklaus looks like when he's truly involved and trust me... That was not it. She never meant a thing to him. No more than a tool."

She chews on her lower lip, regarding Elijah with a studious crease between her eyebrows. "Do you think… Does he really want me here?"

And this question, right here, is what makes Elijah want to plow his brother's head into a wall. There's something fundamentally wrong with Klaus if Caroline would still doubt that at this point. The entire world and their mother has sorted what those two feel for one another ages ago, but they continue to toe around the line between love and hate as though that's even an option anymore. Like it isn't obvious on which side they both are.

Then Elijah remembers something.

"Come with me," he says. "I have something to show you."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

There's a strange sparkle of excitement in Elijah's eyes as he beckons Caroline to follow him, and her brow crinkles with curiosity. They don't go very far, though; in fact, they don't even leave the room.

There's a door on the other side of her bedroom which Caroline doesn't even remember is there most of the time. It leads to a sort of antechamber connecting her room to Klaus' studio, and for the whole time Caroline lived at the compound, it was empty. Klaus never used it either, not even to spy on her - that she knows of, anyway. Every time she checked, the door was locked.

Elijah pushes the door open now and steps aside, a small smile plastered on his face. "Go on," he says, bobbing his head towards it. "Take a look."

Caroline gets what the sparkle was about when she finally peeks inside.

She cannot believe her eyes.

Caroline didn't think anything could break through the veil of anguish and sorrow that settled around her today, but her heart swells, trips over a beat as she gingerly steps into the room, an unexpected warmth unfurling inside of her.

The walls have been painted, long silky drapes adorn the single window and a soft beige rug now covers most of the floor. There's a gorgeous rocking chair right under the window, so much like the one her grandmother used to have on her porch when Caroline was a kid. But what really knocks the wind off Caroline's lungs is the crib in the middle of the room. Huge and beautiful, all in dark wood, with an intricately carved headboard and a cute brown teddy bear inside. The most gorgeous mobile she's ever seen hangs above it, tiny crystals dancing and glinting under the soft light.

"Niklaus did everything by himself," Elijah says after giving her a few moments to process. "I wasn't even aware that he'd put a baby room together until a few days ago. Found it by accident."

She walks over to the crib, touching the soft material of the pillows inside, the bear. And then she reaches up to play with the mobile. Everything she had been postponing out of fear and indecision, of not knowing what to do, or where to go, or even if she'd make it this far. Everything she could've possibly wanted. Right here.

"I think it's safe to say he wished for your return. Your daughter should be raised by her parents, in our family's home, Caroline," Elijah says, smiling softly. "Welcome back."

He leaves her to her thoughts, correctly assuming she'll take her time here. Caroline scrutinizes every single detail, goes through all the drawers on the dresser, all the toys on the shelves, the paintings on the walls. She's enraptured by the largest one, of New Orleans' skyline at night with a full moon shining bright over the Mississippi. She doesn't have to ask to know Klaus painted it himself.

Caroline feels as though a tiny, fragile flame has been lit up in her chest, filling her with hopefulness despite the horrors of the day, reminding her that not all is lost. Not yet. It's hard to remember sometimes there's a reason behind all this, why she's in the middle of this crazy, unfair war. That reason has been growing inside of her for just over eight months.

She can't help but smile, trying to imagine Klaus putting the room together on his own, choosing the furniture and the toys, the little dresses and shoes lined up inside the dresser. Must've driven him crazy. She can just about picture him going into a store and asking for one of everything. And make it fast, will you, sweetheart, I don't have all day. She huffs out a ghost of a laugh. It's an endearing thought, and it makes her think of the conversation she had with Eve just this morning. As she moaned about her fear of being alone with an infant in this world, the werewolf just smiled in that knowing, gentle way of hers. I somehow doubt that.

It was just this morning, but it already feels like a million years ago.

Caroline realizes now that Eve could see right through her and Klaus' muddy relationship, as though she knew she'd end up right here, back at the compound, even before the idea ever occurred to her. To think that her friend won't be there to deliver the baby, to hold Caroline's hand through mind-splitting pain and tell her how to breathe as though it was the simplest thing to do while she tries to push a tiny person out of her... Eve will never see her inexplicable faith in Klaus pay off in the form of this room.

She feels the threat of tears burning behind her eyes again, her pulse straining as she tries to keep up with her emotions.

Music playing outside catches her attention, and she moves to the window. A marching band is passing by the street. So different from the quietness of the Bayou. She has missed the French Quarter. Even with war raging on and blood running through the streets, this city always seems to choose to celebrate life, even in death.

Especially in a day like today, Caroline can't help but admire that kind of resilience.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus leans quietly against the doorframe, taking a second to just appreciate the miracle of this moment.

When he started putting the room together, he didn't really know whether Caroline would ever want to come back, was painfully aware that the nursery could become a reminder of what he'd lost, what he'd ruined. A museum of his own failures. But, for once, Klaus decided to remain hopeful. And if Caroline ever did entertain the thought, he wanted her to feel at home, as at ease as she did in the Bayou, with the werewolves; to know that she was wanted. Her and the baby both. That this is, and would always be, their home.

He had no idea what kind of thing he was supposed to buy for a baby, so he enlisted Camille's assistance. He's hardly her favorite person, but all he had to do was say it was for Caroline and the baby and her disposition was instantly softened. She compiled a list, which he then took to a store. The hardest part was hiding it from Elijah. He was certain his brother would appreciate his effort, maybe even offer to help, but this was something Klaus wanted to do on his own. His daughter isn't even born yet and already he collects terrible failings as a parent, and it's hard to imagine that will stop there, given his history. In a way, the nursery was an apology, a manner to calm his spirit and quiet down the panic that threatens to take over every time he tries to picture himself as a father, making room for the baby in his home as he made room for it in his heart. He's certain Camille would say it was therapeutic, and for once he wouldn't immediately disagree. It was a good way to pass the time, brought him more peace than he could've expected.

And all the while, he had Caroline at the forefront of his mind.

He imagined her exactly like she is now, standing by the window, holding the baby in her arms, or maybe sitting on the rocking chair he put right on that corner. The light there is perfect.

It seems surreal that she's actually here now, her stomach still beautifully swollen. Klaus stays very still, committing the moment to memory in its tiniest details. He needs to put it down on paper later.

"I see my brother has spoiled the surprise I prepared," he speaks after a long silence.

Caroline whips around, startled before her expression smooths into a thousand-watts smile that lights up her face, despite the obvious pain still darkening her eyes. He hasn't seen her smile like that at him in… He can't even remember when the last time was. It tugs at something deep in his chest.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Soon. When the moment was appropriate. Our encounters lately had been few and fueled by hard feelings. I never got a chance." His eyes flicker away from her, taking in the rest of the room, then back. "Do you like it?"

"Do I like it?" She lets out a soft puff of air disbelief. "I love it. It's... perfect. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. It was the least I could do after… Everything."

"I spoke to Elijah," she starts, wringing her hands nervously. "I would like to - I mean if it's not - If you would have me -"

"Yes," he cuts her off. "Please."

"But I have conditions." Klaus arches his eyebrows at her. "Don't go getting all paranoid on me again. No bodyguards, no house arrest. And you have to loop me into - well, everything."

He expected her to say that, and he's ready to accept her demands, however trying they might be. At this point, he hardly thinks there's anything he would deny her. If she asked him to move out so she could move in, he would. "After today… It'll be tough, but I'll do my best."

A shadow crosses the delicate lines of Caroline's face, the smile dropping off her lips. Klaus immediately regrets mentioning the events in the Bayou.

"Did you find anything with the witches? Elijah mentioned you went to investigate."

"It wasn't them."

Caroline scoffs. "Did Genevieve have anything persuasive to say in her defense?"

Klaus stands up straight, taking a tentative step closer to her. "I don't trust Genevieve, Caroline. I never did." He speaks urgently, desperate for her to believe him, to understand, his gaze unflinching. "She was a very short-lived mistake that never meant anything to me. It should've never happened to begin with, but I'm done with her. I've been done with her for a while."

"But you believed her anyway."

"I didn't just take her word on it. The biker man who blew himself up. He owed a debt to the casino. To the humans who own it. And it was mysteriously cleared after the attack."

She frowns. "Why would humans want to harm the werewolves?"

"That's what I intend to find out. But you may rest assured that whoever did it will be brought to justice. I won't let them walk free."

Caroline sighs, her shoulders sagging with weariness as though under a heavy weight, and he can tell she doesn't feel the least bit reassured. They haven't exactly been great at keeping the city under control, and the latest developments only complicate matters further. If it had been the vampires or the witches, it would be easy to understand, therefore easier to fix. But what could Francesca Correa possibly want to achieve by detonating bombs in the Bayou?

Elijah doesn't like her, says she's impishly ambitious. The way she took over for Father Kieran was particularly prickly for Klaus. He' personally chose the priest to hold the reigns of the human faction, and he proved himself to be quite reasonable. Then a few days after Francesca cornered Elijah with her demands, the priest fell mysteriously ill, no longer able to fight for his place. There's something going on there, Klaus is certain of it. Far too many conveniently timed events for it to be chalked up as mere coincidence. He just can't see the bigger picture. Historically, humans have always kept to their corner for obvious reasons. What could this woman possibly have that allows her to play such a dangerous game with creatures far older and more powerful than her?

One thing he knows for sure, though. If Caroline had been harmed today, at this hour, New Orleans would no longer stand. He wouldn't bother asking questions, wouldn't give anyone the benefit of the doubt. There would be no witch, no vampire and no gangster human left to tell the sad story.

"When I arrived in the Bayou and saw all those injured people, weeping, crying out for help, for a moment..." he trails off, recalling the terrible second he mistook a blonde woman for Caroline. "I thought that my selfishness and my pride had caused your death, scaring you away from here, forcing you to take refuge there. I thought... Because of me, you and our daughter had been killed." His voice is low and grave. Even saying these words makes his heart split. "In a thousand years, I can't recall a time I felt so frightened.

"I've wronged you in so many ways, Caroline. I lost my mind to madness when I thought you and Elijah were... I acted out in frustration, said some unforgivable things, and didn't seek you out as I should have. I knew you believed me to be indifferent when I kept my distance and I did nothing to change that. But I was there every night. Watching you. Making sure you were all right, well cared for... Happy."

She blinks slowly at him, a light frown between her eyebrows. "What?"

"Your friend Eve saw me. She assured me you were well. I believed you were better off without me, that you were in peace, so I fought down my heart's desire and stayed away when all I wanted was to ask for your forgiveness and beg you to come home. Elijah pestered me with it every single day, but I ignored him. The truth is... This place... It felt dead without you here. You were the only good thing in my life, Caroline. The only light. And I did everything wrong by you." Klaus pauses, throat bobbing, his heartbeats thundering through him as he holds Caroline's bewildered gaze steadily. "I'm sorry it took you losing a friend for you to return home," he starts. No hesitation. No uncertainty. His voice strong and steady. "I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you all this. I'm sorry that I hurt you, that I made you want to leave, that I let you think I didn't care. I'm sorry, Caroline. I'm so sorry."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline is transfixed. She blinks, slowly, paralyzed in a state of shock. Did Klaus just...? Did he really...?

"I'm sorry, Caroline. I'm so sorry."

She stares at him, mouth hanging slightly open, watching as dozens of emotions flit across Klaus' face. Emotions she doesn't think she's ever seen there before, not this clearly, worn as plainly as he flaunts his rage and temper. Fear. Sorrow. Shame. Regret.

She can feel his agony.

Caroline had been waiting to hear that for weeks, but dreading it at the same time. As much as she'd wanted to forgive him, she didn't just want empty apologies for the sake of it, just because someone - Elijah - put him up to it. She wanted Klaus to mean it, to believe his own words, and she feared that, when he finally decided to apologize, she'd be able to see right through it, to the emptiness of his promises and the convenience of his gesture. It would only break her heart all over again.

But not even in her wildest dreams did she think Klaus would ever be so... Open. Remorseful. And sincere. It kind of leaves her a bit winded.

She hardened herself to him, and with good reason; she was mad about their fall-out and his lack of accountability, bitter over Genevieve. But the truth is... She had always been willing to yield, just waiting for him to do the right thing, say the right words, push a little harder. It seems unfair that it is in the wake of tragedy that they're finally finding a way to talk, really talk, but Caroline cannot imagine making it through a day like today without him. Klaus is the one her heart goes to for comfort. In the middle of all this chaos, since her very first day in New Orleans, he's been home to her. Not the plantation, or the compound, or the Bayou; Klaus.

Silence stretches between them as her mind reels, and she doesn't realize she's been quiet for an awkwardly long time until he turns around to leave, probably thinking she's unmoved. It's the exact opposite, actually.

"Klaus," she blurts out, and he stops, spins back with expectant eyes.

Caroline chews on her lower lip and, making a decision, walks up to him, her heart pounding insanely against her ribcage. She lifts her hand to his face, the tips of her fingers grazing his chin gingerly before she cups his cheek. The throbbing pain inside her chest quiets down, its rough edges dulled by the warmth humming through her.

His eyes drift close as he relaxes into her touch, and Caroline carefully studies him. His fair lashes, the shape of his cheekbones, the roughness of his stubble under her fingertips, the ridiculous perfection of his jaw line. Klaus is so beautiful. It's easy to forget that sometimes, with how insufferable he can be. He looks tired, though. Every bit as exhausted and beaten as Caroline feels. A kind of weariness that runs deeper than bones and muscles, seems to eat away at her very soul. And yet she is struck by how much at ease she is in this moment, by how she simply unwinds being this close to him. It reminds her of better times. Easier times. When Caroline dared to believe that maybe things were on the up at last, after waking up to find him gazing at her with sheer adoration.

"You were there for me today," she speaks, just above a whisper. "You were there for everyone. More innocent people would've died if it wasn't for you."

Klaus opens his eyes, peering at her in that way of his, heat rising in her belly. "You weren't the only one who was scared," she continues. "For a moment, I thought… When I didn't see you… I thought I'd lost you." Her voice comes out brittle, vibrating with emotion, and she has to fight back the tears pricking behind her eyes as the familiar fear and despair that threatened to take over her rear its head again.

He covers the hand on his face with his own, bringing her back to the moment, keeping her grounded with a piercing stare. "I'm a hard one to kill."

Caroline smiles shortly. "You said you didn't do what you wanted, didn't follow your heart's desire," she starts. "What is it that you want?"

"I want you," he replies, not missing a beat. "I've always wanted you, Caroline. Only you. I want you and our daughter here, safe, with me."

Caroline leans in, studying the new intensity in his dark blue eyes, the full lips that populated so many of her dreams back in Mystic Falls, before she would even allow herself to admit how much she'd wanted to taste them. The memory of their kisses sparks between them like a fire ignited out of thin air. "Ok," she says, a tiny grin dancing on the corner of her mouth. "You get a second chance. Don't screw up."

She comes even closer, and when Klaus finally cuts the last inches between them, Caroline feels a click, something fundamental inside of her sliding into place.

He grabs the back of her neck, his fingers sliding through her hair. It's wanton need and months of ill-resolved feelings, all mashed into one. Klaus kisses her like he's got a single minute to live, with a ravaging despair. Some things, it seems, don't change; Caroline feels exactly as she did after their first kiss. As soon as he touches her, or kisses her, the smell of him, the warmth, it all makes her knees grow weak and her body simply surrenders.

They tumble back together, and he presses her slowly and deliberately against the wall behind her, the palms of his hands smoothing up and down her back, her hips. Caroline pulls him as close as it is humanly possible with the mass of baby between them. The nervousness morphs into a thrill of anticipation, and for once it's not a bad thing, not an agitation that makes her feel sick. All the tension that had settled between her shoulder blades melts into a shiver that makes the fine hair on the back of her neck stand to attention. She lets out a breath that is half a moan against his mouth, ready to lose herself in his arms. But then Klaus breaks the kiss, his eyes closed, pressing their foreheads together.

"You'll be the end of me, Caroline Forbes," he breathes out, his voice raspy and thick with sentiment. She smiles, biting on his lower lip, sucking on it and then kissing him again.

Klaus cups her face, pulling away just enough to look at her. His eyes are alight with passion, but somehow still soft, so tender that it sends goosebumps trickling down her neck. Almost nine months, on that fateful sunny morning, she woke up to this same look in his eyes and felt that she'd found something. Something precious and inexplicable that she didn't even know she'd been looking for, but that made her feel complete somehow. She remembers that moment to a fault, the exact second she realized she was at a total loss for Klaus Mikaelson. Her heart skipped a fundamental beat, and when it picked up rhythm again, it was beating just that tiny bit different than before. Oh, goddamnit, was her first thought. She knew then that, against all rhyme or reason, she was falling in love with him. It felt huge, life-changing, breathtaking, and she had no clue just how huge it was then; her entire future was being shaped in that morning. Almost nine months and an impossible number of ordeals later and she still feels the same flutter in her chest, the same buzzing under her skin. Everything has changed, the whole world turned upside down, and yet this one thing perseveres - a little worn, a little tested, but greater than before, stronger.

Love has never come easily to Caroline, and she's come to understand that it's part of the job, so to speak, of where she was born, the people she befriended - witches, vampires, werewolves, doppelgangers... In the middle of all that, there was no way she could ever hope to have a normal life. Nine to five job, marriage, children... That kind of stuff happens to other people. Witches will always have the apocalypse knocking on their door, no matter how hard they try to hide from it. Supernatural creatures are magnets for crap - as Damon Salvatore made evident. Being with Klaus, though... It's a whole new, unexplored level of complicated. You have to fight him in order to love him; he does not sell it cheaply, that's for sure. But there's not a lot in this world that compares to it, to looking into those millennium-old eyes and knowing that she is all he sees. To feeling his heart racing underneath her palm and knowing that it's for her.

It feels exactly like coming home. Her entire life has been shaken to its core, but in that kiss, in Klaus' arms, it all snaps back into place.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus didn't mean to kiss her.

More accurately, he didn't mean to kiss her now, when she's so obviously devastated by grief. He always wants to kiss Caroline, every second of every day for a good many years now, but he doesn't want to feel as though he's taking advantage of a rare moment of weakness on her part. Caroline has been leaning onto him for strength today, and he's glad just being here for her, for whatever she needs. If he can make her feel better, make her forget the horrors she's lived through today at the Crescents' camp - if he can offer her just a mere second of solace, he'll do it.

It was just stronger than him, having her so close, so pliant, with so much affection burning through the cobalt of her eyes. One second her face was inches away from his, the next, his lips were on hers, devouring, desperate, the consummation of months and months of neglected feelings. Then she was kissing him back, with just as much eagerness, and before he knows it, they are a tangle of limbs, pressed together as though trying to blend into one.

Klaus is raw with the need to touch her, to feel her. Her sinful moan against his mouth goes straight to his groin. He just wants to take her to bed and debauch her again, make her shake with want. Every cell in his body aches for her, filled with a visceral desperate hunger.

He breaks away for air abruptly, pressing his eyes shut against the desire unraveling inside of him. "You'll be the end of me, Caroline Forbes," he whispers, fully knowing that if he were to die right now, it would be with a smile on his face. The light in her eyes just then glows brighter than he's seen in an excruciatingly long time, like he didn't think he'd see again, not directed at him. He sees the sun in that smile, breaking through the storm clouds that have shrouded his entire being for weeks.

Caroline is this blazing, merciless ball of chaos that came into his life disrupting everything with its crunching energy, tearing apart everything Klaus thought he knew or wanted. The utter foreignness of it repulsed him as much as it attracted him, and for the longest time he didn't know how to call it. An overwhelming feeling that takes over his entire being, holding the pendulum of his life and changing its very course. It made him desperate to make her smile, to hear her laugh, do just about anything to see that wondrous sparkle in her eyes. It drove him insane. But now, as he looks into those beautiful blue eyes, he thinks he finally understands it.

Happiness.

It's rapturous, makes no sense and, at times, is akin to torture. It's addictive, like the worst kind of drug, and he cannot imagine himself without it. Without her.

But now is not the time.

He presses his lips against hers once more, meekly, and then he flashes away from the room. He wanted to pillage every last breath from her mouth and claim it for himself, but he couldn't let it go any further. Not tonight. Not after what she's been through.

Caroline is vulnerable, made brittle by grief. He knows she wanted him, too, could hear her heart pounding, feel the need in her touch, the earnestness of her gaze. And that is enough to soothe his cravings. To know that she is back of her own free will, that she wants him still, is enough. For now, anyway. If he stays too close, he won't be able to stop himself, so he leaves. If he knows Caroline at all, she'll want to spend some time in that room, getting herself acquainted with every detail, all the while compiling a mental list of all the things still missing.

As much as he's waited for this, fantasizing about this moment, about having her in his arms again, he won't be losing his mind over it. Not when he practically has a skip in his step from so much joy. Caroline needs rest, and it's probably for the best that she sleeps on everything that's happened, reassessing her own feelings about it all once the pain and the terror aren't fogging her thoughts. He's waited almost nine months. A few more days won't hurt.

He comes down from cloud nine as soon as he returns to his room, though. Elijah is there, looking rather forlorn, watching the street from his window with a glass of bourbon in his hand. A perfect imitation of what Klaus looked like on most days for the past month or so. How the tables have turned... And all it took was one kiss.

"I trust," Elijah starts, sipping from his drink, half of his face bathed in shadow. "And hope that you won't take Caroline's return for granted and will put an honest effort into doing right by her this time around."

Klaus clasps his hands behind his back. "Is this your way of reminding me of your threat? That you'll be waiting for me to fail again so you can take what you want?"

"Despite what you might think, Niklaus, I want you to be happy."

"More than you want to be happy yourself?"

His brother lifts his face, finally meeting his gaze, a tiny smile ticking up the corner of his lips. "I've come to realize over the years that one thing hinges inherently on the other."

Klaus watches him carefully, thinking of all the ways this throwaway line could be weighted. Goodhearted approval, camaraderie, accusation, resentment. Elijah has this way of leaving the emphasis empty sometimes.

"Well," he speaks after a moment, changing course. Caroline aside, the two of them have many more problems to discuss. "I won't be completely happy until we find the ones behind the attacks on the Bayou." Klaus takes a seat behind his desk. "First Marcel's massacre. Now bombs. Are you ready to give up this doomed treaty?"

"Very occasionally, Niklaus, you are, indeed, right. This isn't something I speak lightly. You being right this time means a number of terrible things I wanted very hard to overlook in favor of staying hopeful. I was wrong. The people of New Orleans never meant to take their pledge seriously."

"I take no joy in being right, brother. Not this time."

"Somehow, I doubt that." Elijah pauses, walking over to him. "This alliance with the wolves. If it is to succeed, I believe you'll want this." Elijah puts down their mother's grimoire in front of him, tapping his finger twice on top of it.

Klaus blinks at him, suspicious. And then he realizes - this demeanor, his sagged shoulders, the lack of fight... Elijah is defeated. Perhaps even feeling guilty for what took place today in the Bayou. It feels wrong to see his big brother, always so haughty, so imposing, like this. Klaus feels almost sorry for the part he's played in unearthing the truth about the peace treaty. But he was right, after all.

"Seems I have Caroline to thank for your change of heart," he says, opening the book to inspect that the spell that interests him the most at the moment hasn't been removed.

Elijah walks by him, and Klaus can hear him filling his glass again. "The rifts in this city run far deeper than I even imagined. These tribes, these factions... They're families, and families will choose to fight for their own, always." Elijah returns with two glasses, offering one to Klaus as he leans back against the desk, looking down at his brother with a sharp, cold glint in his eyes. "Mayhem has descended upon our home. And if I'm to choose a side..." He raises his glass in a toast. "To our victory, brother."

A smile breaks onto Klaus' face and, after a moment, he raises his glass as well, knocking back his drink.

It seems he didn't just get Caroline back tonight. He also got his brother.

Klaus hasn't felt this invincible in a very long time.

TBC

---

WELL. Here we are, then. lol

So you can see now what those CONCERNS I mentioned above were about. I don't think anything I've ever written in my life has gone through as many rereads and rewrites as this chapter. lol It's a MAJOR point in the story, the culmination of a LOT of things and I really, really wanted this to work. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Those of you who have watched The Originals probably noticed that I twisted this episode quite a bit. There are lots of differences in comparison to the show, but plot-wise the end result is still the same. Aside from the obvious (having to switch Elijah for Klaus), there are other reasons why I felt things made more sense like this. I'm not gonna go into details because I'm not sure anybody wants to hear me rambling here. lol But I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Also, totally silly, but the opening scene on this chapter is one my favorites from the entire story. Like maybe top three. I know, it makes no sense. Nothing happens, it's just an incredibly passive-aggressive conversation,. Elijah. ❤

I hope you guys liked this chapter and if you did, if you don't mind, I would really love to hear your thoughts. :) Your comments and continued support really means the world to me. Thanks for reading!