Anonymous asked: Kc+ Zombie apocalypse au.


Caroline awoke slowly, the burn of vervain still a lingering ache in her bones. She had her theories, but they narrowed themselves out of consideration when she realized she was tucked into a very fluffy bed and wearing sinfully soft nightgown. With a hand rubbing the crick in her neck, she reluctantly sat up. "Klaus!"

Honestly, she was surprised he hadn't been sitting in the room already, likely filling yet another sketchbook with her face while she was out. But no, he flashed through the door with an impish smile. "Hello, love."

Oh, she wanted to throw a pillow in his face; instead, she clutched to her chest as she glared. "You can't just go kidnapping me every time a global crisis happens," she seethed.

"It seems I can," he countered, settling himself in an armchair near the bed. "Had I asked, would you have accompanied me to a safe house for an indefinite amount of time?"

The answer was obviously no, but only because she hadn't heard of any such crisis requiring quarantine. They were mostly immortal - indefinites could quite literally last forever. "You still have to ask," she eventually sighed, recognizing a lost fight not worth fighting if they were really in danger. "What the hell happened, then, to spook you?"

He licked his lips in irritation, probably disappointed that she wouldn't give him the joy of an argument. "A plague of some sorts, and those affected are presenting strange symptoms. Vampires are showing an immunity-"

"Then-"

"-but humans are proving to be contagious and fallible. It's spreading, and spreading fast."

"If anything, you're the plague, wreaking havoc wherever you go. I haven't heard anything about this one."

Smirking, he seemed to be laughing at her. "You've been back in the states for too long, I'm afraid. The rest of the world has been all too aware of developments. I have taken precautions many times over the centuries, with safe houses such as this one."

Caroline chewed on her lip. "We're not affected, though."

"Blood stores will be," he pointed out, not unkindly as she struggled to process. "I have a few families on staff, well taken care of. Young, with children."

A chill rolled down her spine, and she clutched the pillow a little more tightly. "You're planning for generations' worth of blood."

With a sad turn of his mouth, he folded his hands in front of him. "Can't be too careful, sweetheart."

"Yeah," she breathed, wanting nothing more than to roll over and sleep through the worst of it. Indefinites really sucked.