XVIII.
The sun hadn't come out yet. She woke up with a sudden paranoia going around her mind. Caroline supposed it could have everything to do with the fact that Klaus Mikaelson was currently wrapped around her in bed. Or it could be anything else too, as far as she was concerned.
She had to leave soon, of that she was sure, because she highly doubted Klaus wanted to give his family explanations when they inevitably noticed her walking out of his room and their home. And she, too, didn't want to have to talk about this with her friends, not until she knew what kind of answers she wanted to give to their questions. Questions that, she imagined, would be nothing if not very aggressive in nature.
Especially when coming from Elena, she knew, judging by their quasi-fight the night before. Bonnie, Caroline thought, might be more inclined to understand, given how very personal she had become with the Mikalesons herself.
Klaus shifted by her side, and gave out a sigh to her neck. She smiled, and allowed herself to relax for at least another ten minutes. Surely, the world as they knew it wouldn't burn down to ashes in ten minutes. Okay, maybe fifteen, so long as she could forget that them being like this wasn't really normal, or moral, if she was being honest. But then, the morning seemed to have come with a slightly cooler air, and he was warm in her arms, and there was that.
They had kissed, and that was a sobering enough thought to make her stiffen. Kisses, and flirting for that matter, weren't viewed as platonic, not that anyone would ever dare to call her and Klaus platonic, in any capacity, but still. Caroline had thought she could get away with calling themselves friends, but this only if they could fit the terms.
And they didn't, she doubted they ever had or ever would. In a perfect world, she knew, this wouldn't be such a bad thing to consider. But then there were other things to ponder about alongside.
Like a ring, and a wedding, and a future she no longer cared for, but had already committed to. She scoffed to herself, why would Alaric even want to stay engaged, it wasn't as if he was a lovesick puppy who couldn't handle the truth. He was an adult, they all were, and if she were to, for example, stop lying to him and to herself, she highly doubted he would remain in denial.
Klaus shifted again, and his hand pushed her closer to him. At this, she considered if he'd woken up, maybe sensing what she was thinking about. But no such luck, he was still breathing deeply and his features remained relaxed and soothing to her eyes. Perhaps there was a way in which she could keep him like this; unaware of anything wrong and unconsciously happy. His reality would permit him anything but, of this she was certain.
Caroline might've managed to make things a little better the night before, but she knew she couldn't work wonders. Everything he had told her was still true; Hope was in danger and Marcel was dying, with velocity increased it seemed. In a couple hours or minutes he would wake up to the fact that he not only still had to deal with all this, but that Caroline had also been added to his list of concerns.
She supposed she could help with that, and try to clear things up for herself instead of having to torture him with uncertainty. They wanted each other, that much had become clear. Except, that sentiment wasn't enough to make life-altering decisions. For a moment, she wished that was all that was required, and maybe someone else could make all the very difficult speeches she would inevitably have to utter aloud.
She sighed, and moved her body slightly down so that she could bury her head on his chest, Klaus only let his hands mold onto her. She recalled all of the realizations that had been going through her mind before she had succumbed to sleep. Some had stuck rather permanently in her brain and it was making it harder for her to part from Klaus.
She lifted her hand, and ran her fingers through his arm, then his neck. His hand jumped on the small of her back, but he remained blessedly asleep. Caroline bit on her lip as she stared at his face, she could hardly believe the amount of wariness that plastered on it when he was awake. Forever young and all that he may be, he wasn't immune to the aging inside.
Caroline sighed again, and this time she didn't even think about it when she brushed her lips softly to his. Then she went back to nuzzling against his chest. His breathing changed very suddenly, and she knew, without looking up, that he had opened his eyes. His hands tightened around her too.
"Love?" his whisper was strangely loud to her, and the darkness around them was no more, she noticed. "Did you just kiss me, or did I dream that too?"
She chuckled, "No, I did. Problem?" He kissed the top of her head.
"Not at all."
"What did you dream?" she asked, lifting her head slightly. Her fingers on his hair, soothing.
"Oh, you know, the usual," he told her, as if she truly had grounds for knowing. Still, something told her she could guess correctly if she tried.
"Which is?" she pushed, and now his eyes landed on hers. He was smirking, and Caroline knew he was pointedly ignoring anything other than her at the moment.
"It's a recurring one actually; my family's at a ball. Where, I don't care to dwell on, but we're dancing. And the lights are suddenly off, and then they turn on, and there's a writing on the wall," she frowned when he paused, and was actually concerned for him, "it's some wretched color purple, but somehow I know it's blood. Somehow too, I know whose it is, but I can't do anything."
There was a small silence as she considered his words, she saw his brows furrow, and she let her hand cup the side of his face for a second. "Why?"
"Because everyone's dancing still, and no one seems to care about the blood on the wall. There's Hayley in this red dress, and Elijah without a suit. And they seem fine with it too, so I just go along, thinking I don't want to ruin everyone's perfectly fine evening because I'm paranoid." His voice sounded like it was about to crack, and her eyes were narrowing with thought.
Caroline was sure that if she hadn't dropped out of college and had actually taken that psych class she wanted, she could've maybe given a diagnosis, or just an informed analysis of what this could mean. She supposed Klaus' dreams were more specific than most, and he hadn't seemed restless in his sleep, on the contrary, he'd been very relaxed.
Perhaps he'd become an expert on never dropping the mask, or the shield around him, or whatever other metaphor he preferred for his trust issues, even in his sleep. But, as she realized, he was dropping the mask now, as she really doubted he ever told people about his dreams, so she had to follow up.
"What does the writing say?" he tensed slightly, but then gave out a sigh and pressed his chin to her head.
"There will be no peace," he cleared his throat, "Melodramatic, I know, but the truth is that actually happened once. The lights and the party, and the blood. It had something to do with witches obviously, and it wasn't traumatic exactly, not for me anyways, but it's interesting that that's what my brain chooses to replay." He said, holding her closer. She hummed in thought.
"So everything is as it happened in real life, nothing ever changes in your dreams?" she asked, genuinely interested and hoping to help.
"No, it does. The ball I dream about is much more sophisticated," she snorted, and he tugged at her hip, "And sometimes Hayley's dress is not red. And there's also times in which they're as frantic to get answers as I am, but that's not often," he admitted. Caroline nodded and lifted her head again to watch him, he was staring right back.
"And this time, did something change?" He looked to be considering his answer very thoroughly. Then, after a moment, he nodded.
"You were in it. In that dress, the one I gave you," she smiled at him, "The wall was the same, and Elijah was teaching Hayley how to dance that ridiculous waltz your hometown loves so much," she gave him a look and he grinned, "You helped, Caroline," he finished after a pause.
"With the wall?" He kissed her forehead and then gave a short nod.
"With everything." His eyes met hers again, and she thought she could also hear the words he wasn't saying.
She stroked his cheek, tender and careful, as if he would or could break. He stared down at her, with a question in his eyes that she couldn't quite make sense of yet.
"I dreamt about being locked up down there with Damon," she announced, seemingly concentrated on the seams of his sweater.
"Is this a ploy?" His tone was serious, but she could see the amusement in his face, "I'm sorry, love, but he's staying there."
She shook her head lightly, "No, I know, I wasn't being subtle. I really dreamt I was there." She frowned at nothing for a moment, as she knew she hadn't ever been to the dungeons, but of course, had a pretty good idea of how not so very cozy they must be.
"That would never happen, Caroline." He sounded very certain, but she couldn't help the questioning look on her face.
"No?" She licked her lips in consideration and saw his eyes trail the movement, "Certain things have a way of becoming reality, even when we would never expect them to."
He gave out a chuckle and started stroking her hair, "Very insightful of you, love," she rolled her eyes, "but be sure, that even if I or anyone had the necessity to isolate or incapacitate you, you would never spend a second in that place."
Their gazes met, and she recognized another kind of assurance in his eyes, one that ultimately calmed her down. Strange, as she hadn't been aware that her dream had riled her up that much. So she nodded and searched for his hand to hold.
"A dagger then?" she said, with a smirk on her lips, one he mirrored after a second.
"Not funny," she smiled a full and truly genuine smile now, "besides, I don't believe I've told you but not so long ago Kol made it his life's purpose to create a dagger that could actually hurt me. Not that I gave any of my siblings the satisfaction of actually using it against my will, but, it really wasn't that bad."
She laughed into his chest, "So then your family was just being dramatic?" She asked, with pointed sarcasm. "You don't think missing a century's worth of happenings is a big deal at all?"
"I didn't say that," he tried to amend, "I just said it wasn't that bad, it's like taking a nap. Granted, with something buried in your chest, but a good rest nonetheless."
"Therapeutic," she provided.
"Yes, exactly," he was pensive for a second, and then went on, "maybe, don't ever tell Rebekah I said that?"
"Obviously. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul that Klaus Mikealeson secretly likes being daggered." He smirked at her, "It would make you seem much less threatening, and we can't have that."
"We can't." He agreed.
There was light now coming through the windows and it made the pause she had allowed herself scream at her that it was over. That very soon they would have to get back out there and resume everything that was giving them trouble. It was positively cruel that she was perfectly aware of everything and yet so very reluctant to make anything about it.
"Will you be okay today?" She asked, stroking his arm again. He didn't even need to think about it before he answered her.
"No," he gulped, "but there's really no time for another breakdown. I imagine Hayley knows this too, so I expect we'll be acting a great deal for a day or two."
Caroline nodded her understanding and felt an echo of the pain that had been so overpowering the day before. "Well, when you don't feel like acting, or Hayley for that matter, you can come find me." She made to give him what she expected to look like a reassuring smile, and found that he was eyeing her with seriousness, "that is if you haven't decided to compel me right away."
He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it almost instantly. He closed his eyes as he told her, "I haven't decided yet."
"That's okay," she assured him, aiming to sound nonchalant. He opened his eyes again. "Maybe Hayley should have a say about it too."
"Yes," he frowned, "she should, but I wasn't lying before, Caroline, I really do trust you. More, perhaps, than I do some of the members of my family."
"I strangely know who you mean," she thought out loud and he chuckled.
"Who doesn't?"
"And I wasn't lying either," she continued, "I trust you too, and I'll be okay with whatever you think is the right thing to do."
He looked slightly troubled with her words, and Caroline wished she could help it. But at last, some things just couldn't be mended so easily. Some things just had to be felt and dealt with. And this was one of those.
"Love," he whispered, and she broke her train of thought to look at him once more.
"Yes?"
"Kiss me again?" the blue of his eyes was darker, "or one last time, whatever you-"
She'd brought his lips down to hers before he could carry on whatever it was he wanted to ramble about. And it felt very different, kissing him in the daylight, as if it only served to make it- to make them more real. Slightly less reversible.
She felt the complications rise with every second they shared wrapped in each other's arms. Skin touching and mouths colliding with no trace of urgency, but with only tender emotion. As if they had a chance to become so normal and ordinary. As if their kissing had the opportunity to turn routinary.
They parted at the same second, like they'd both heard some sort of alarm go off. The light was brighter, and his hand was sliding off her waist. They locked gazes for a second longer, and there was another silent understanding; certain words just couldn't be uttered in bad timing, or else they lost all meaning.
Moments later she was putting her jacket back on, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed where she had found him the night before. He had an insipid smirk on his lips as he stared at the floor. Then, in sync with the silence, she followed his eyes as they landed on her left hand, and she felt a nausea that appeared to have been waiting for its grand entrance.
The ring felt looser on her finger, almost as if it wanted to slide off itself and escape the unworthy host.
"We'll talk about it," she said, with no need to clarify the pending subject to which she was referring to, "but I need to think and...talk to him first too."
"Not something you can do over the phone, I imagine," he replied, and it sounded more like a question than anything else. His eyes stayed glued to her hand.
"No," she thought she sounded a bit desolate, and this made him look up to her. He stood, and leveled gazes with her.
"What I said at your graduation...that, it hasn't changed, Caroline," her eyes widened in spite of herself, "not even when I wanted it to. So, if-"
"You know, a lot has changed in our lives, Klaus," she paused and took a step closer to him, "enough to be noted, at least. But the one thing I always hoped and kind of knew would stay the same, is us. Promises or not."
He raised a brow at her, but then offered her a smile, as easy going as he could manage. Yes, they would have to come to terms in the near future, but the both of them knew not to be hasty, or more than they'd already been.
The prospect of forever gave them nothing if not time, but fortunately, Caroline was all too shamingly aware that they'd waited long enough already.
/
Even as she practically tiptoed downstairs, she knew her cover would be blown one way or the other. After all, this place housed only the most skilled of supernaturals, and the very first vampires of the world. The notion that she could somehow get out undetected was laughable at best. Still, Caroline had a strange trust in their, possibly existing, policy of not interfering. Hopefully, a new house rule too.
A door was slammed, and she cringed inwardly. Caroline considered hiding for a second or two, but then, as her attention roamed around the courtyard for the responsible of the noise, she knew the person in question would be more concerned with other things.
Namely, getting to her room without collapsing to the floor.
So there was Rebekah, heels in hand and a pink skirt riding up her legs. She was openly struggling to stand still long enough to direct herself correctly. Caroline didn't even think about it twice as she sped to her and held her up before she could fall on her face.
Rebekah leveled eyes with her for a second and raised a brow, her lips pouting. She let herself be held, and then her heels fell to the floor as she used Caroline to support herself. She let a chuckle erupt from her throat.
"Walk of shame?" She asked, with a grin on her face, as she finally let go of Caroline and stood on her own.
Caroline took a good look at Rebekah as she stepped back. The original seemed to be a different person than the one Caroline had run into the night before. No more was the sophisticated and spotless Mikaleson. The blonde was a wreck; her clothes disheveled and her hair all over the place, her bright pink lipstick had smudged on over to her cheek. And judging from the overwhelming smell of alcohol, and well, everything else, Caroline had enough to conclude that she was utterly drunk and hopeless.
"I think that would be you," she replied under her breath, and Rebekah let out a laugh. She pulled her skirt down; Caroline watched, concerned.
"Now, no need to get feisty, love." She cleared her throat, and directed her attention to the top of the stairs. Caroline followed her line of sight, but the railing was empty. "I was at a business meeting, it simply ran long."
Caroline smirked at this, bending down to pick up Rebekah's shoes and handed them to her. Sure, she'd seen her drink before, she'd seen her break down, but never had she had the utter pleasure or displeasure, as the case may be, to be in the presence of a completely uncensored Rebekah Mikaleson. What a dream come true, and what a way for karmic punishment to make its way to her so quickly.
"Clearly," Caroline allowed. "Do you need help getting upstairs?"
It was ridiculous, Caroline could see, but she couldn't help the maternal instinct that she often got when her friends were in need. Not that she would call Rebekah a friend, per se, but she wouldn't describe her as an enemy either. She would lean towards friendly acquaintance if she had to pick a term.
Rebekah gave her a once over before opening her mouth to speak, "I'm perfectly capable, Caroline," she pursed her lips, "but thank you. Should I prepare for a tantrum of some sort?"
Caroline frowned at the question, and tilted her head slightly. She considered what she could mean, and she hoped she wouldn't have to acknowledge the only logical choice. But of course, hoping that the Mikalesons could take a hint and let things go would always end in disappointment.
"Nik, I mean," she clarified, without needing to, honestly. Rebekah was perhaps too drunk to sense the awkwardness currently emanating from Caroline.
"I don't think so," she responded, after a pause. Rebekah smirked, as if the other blonde had just said something .
"Left him in a good mood then?" she fixed her skirt again. Her smirk faltered when she seemed to be losing her balance, she took a step back to recover, and then assessed Caroline as if nothing had happened.
She wondered, very briefly, and rather late too, what had happened to Rebekah. And also, why she was like this, sloppy and so unlike herself. But then their eyes met, and Caroline thought she could see something beyond the amusement she was using as a cover. Then, as a strange revelation, she remembered the broken woman that had almost begged them to help save Marcel.
And Marcel was nearing death. She had forgotten Klaus wasn't and couldn't possibly be the only one who was hurting. So, with this in mind, Caroline swallowed the biting remark that had almost left her lips, opting for the more mellow side of her temper.
"Not really any of your business, Rebekah." She told her, crossing her arms in front of her. The other's eyes widened slightly, as she seemed to be considering something of great importance.
"Oh," she frowned, "well, I lost the bet then. Would it have hurt you to wait another day? Really, Caroline-"
"What?" Now her own eyes were wide with disbelief. Rebekah waved a dismissing hand, as if she had said nothing distressing at all.
"Kol and I got bored one night," she explained, rather offhandedly. "So what's with the ring then?"
Where the others had been considerably subtle with addressing the situation, drunk Rebekah was anything but. She took Caroline's hand from her chest and looked at the accessory in question with a near clinical obsession. Caroline tried to pull her hand from her grasp but failed.
"Isn't it terribly small?" Caroline scowled at her now, refusing to patronize her about this. She just wouldn't have any conversation with Rebekah about this. "Well, I've seen worse, honestly. Your professor doesn't have an eye for jewelry, but then again-"
"I'm not talking about this with you," Caroline interrupted, figuring she might as well be clear about lines to be crossed.
Rebekah let go of her hand at this, and her face, astoundingly so, was sobering, "And my brother?" she looked up again, "Did you speak with him about this?"
Caroline gulped, and then looked away from the original, crossing her arms again. They had just attempted to talk about it, but really, they hadn't discussed everything that would entail...giving into this. They just hadn't been thorough, and Caroline supposed that she couldn't go ahead with only wishful thinking on her side. A lot of things could go wrong, and she wasn't about to entertain the idea of ignoring them until they came knocking on her door.
She pursed her lips before she answered, "This too, is none of your business, Rebekah, really-"
"I know," she said, holding a hand up. "I just- I mean, you'll talk about it with those friends of yours, right? And of course, their enlightened advice will make you go back to being unhappy with them. As in, choose the professor, because, what? They just like him better?" She wrapped her arms around her body, "Is it a horribly off guess?"
Caroline honestly gaped at her for a moment or two. Then she made sure she had heard right, waited for the punchline too. But none of it came; Rebekah was serious, staring her right in the eye.
"What- why do you care?" She ended up asking, at which Rebekah shrugged.
"I think we've all been rather unhappy for a while now, no?" She sighed. "Besides, you have to talk about this with someone…"
"You?" Caroline couldn't bother to hide her apprehension at the idea. Even while she knew Rebekah had expressed a valid point just now. Bonnie and Elena may be her best friends in the entire planet, but that didn't mean they were the best at putting their biases aside, or that their advice had in any way, shape or form ever helped.
"Yes, me." There was a smile to her lips again. "You know I love my brother, Caroline, but I'm not blind when it comes to him. Not anymore," she sniffed, "I think I may be able to offer you some very unbiased and- well, educated council when it comes to matters of the heart. They didn't call me the emotional one for a thousand years for nothing."
Caroline let out a small laugh at this as she assessed the vampire one more time. It was true that she needed to talk about this with someone who wasn't Klaus. During the last two years, anything that had left a bruise on her heart, she had placed on the back of her head, willing it to disappear. Up until, a few weeks ago, she had started losing herself because of it.
"So?" Rebekah inquired again. Caroline sighed, letting her hands hang at her sides.
"Fine," a surprisingly big smile was headed her way, "Now?"
Rebekah looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Caroline had the sudden urge to know what time it was; clearly not late enough that the other occupants of the house had bothered to come out of their rooms.
"God no. I'm sleeping this off, and you, well, you're doing whatever it is that entertains you in that sorority apartment of yours." Caroline gave her a stern look. "We'll meet at six. Rousseau's."
"I-"
"You have a phone, don't you? Look it up. And no, I'm not meeting any earlier, bloody hate the daylight these days." Caroline opened her mouth to say something, but the original stopped her with a finger in the air. "And please, love, can't you find any other clothes to wear? I swear this is the fifth time I've seen you in the exact same-"
"Rebekah," she scolded, annoyed at the moment. Unhinged Rebekah had the prospect of being a good show, but right about now, Caroline wished she had moved along and left her to her own devices.
"Right, well, six?" There was a rather large doubt in Caroline's head, but she knew it was too late to back out, and so she nodded. "Perfect."
"Can't wait," Caroline responded, with a hint of sarcasm she expected to go right over Rebekah's head. Which it looked like it did, judging from the unwavering smile.
She watched the other vampire stumble towards the door she knew led to the dining room and seconds later she disappeared from her sight. Caroline stood alone in the middle of the courtyard once more, and sighed heavily. This family she had known for a while, but she believed she'd never had any sort of...civility in their meetings.
As in once, they'd been at each other's throats nonstop, and now she'd made a date to chat with Rebekah. And Elijah was asking for her help and proposing timetables. Hayley had been perfectly friendly, and honestly, very much pleasant in their words. And then there was Klaus…
How very refreshing and not at all what she had been expecting. Like a present she wasn't sure she wanted to return or cherish for the rest of her days.
She was out the gate and crossing the street when she came to. The lock on the building door stuck and wouldn't give for a solid minute, but then she was upstairs and struggling with another key. She wasn't very surprised, when she caught sight of Bonnie eyeing her with a frown from the kitchen counter.
She gave her friend a wave, as she tried to escape from her plain and solid gaze. But of course, she didn't get very far before she was stopped.
"You're alive," Bonnie commented, blowing off steam from her coffee mug.
Caroline took a deep breath and then turned to look at her friend, giving her one of her most convincing smiles, "I am."
Bonnie set her mug on the counter and analyzed Caroline very openly, she almost squirmed under her attention. "I came home late last night. Elena was worried sick, she said you two had a fight?"
Caroline frowned at her friend's words. She had been trying to avoid thinking about her talk with Elena as a fight in big proportions. She knew that once a disagreement had the potential to last years, it was better not to give it all the energy and drive she would give other things. Besides, fights with Elena were more often than not, unnecessarily draining.
"I wouldn't say we fought." Was all she said, and Bonnie nodded.
"She said you were defending Klaus, not that this surprised me," Caroline held the need to roll her eyes, "she said you were attacking Damon?"
Caroline scoffed, "Bonnie, look, I know he's like your bestie or whatever, and normally, I don't have any issue with him but-"
"Caroline, wait," she interrupted, "I'm not bringing this up to- to scold you."
"No?" She raised a brow at her, curious.
"No, because I get your problem with Damon, and I know he's not your favorite person, or someone you'd necessarily consider a friend. And I respect that, so should Elena." She paused to take a breath, and took the mug in her hands again. "But what I really wanted to say is...I understand why you would defend Klaus, and his family, because if I'm being completely sincere, I think I would have too."
This rendered Caroline speechless, as she just stared at her friend. Bonnie took another sip of her coffee. And there was silence, for a moment and then the next, and she couldn't think of what to say, so instead she gave Bonnie a nod, and the ends of her lips quirked up.
"So, you don't have to tell me where you spent the night if you don't want to, Care. But just so you know, you can talk to me about everything." She smiled. "These past few weeks, everything's kinda' shifted for me too, and trust me when I say, I will be here for you, whatever happens next."
/
Damon woke up to hammering. Whether it was real or in his head only, he couldn't tell anymore. He groaned out loud, cursing his reality for the thousandth time. The noise ceased the longer he kept his eyes open, he noted. Maybe he was growing more insane with every hour that passed.
He couldn't really tell what time it was, not ever. His only clues being that of the strange ray of sunshine which sometimes cracked through the tunnels, and Elena's morning visits. He coughed as he got up from his previously slouched position on the floor. It had been weeks since he had gotten a breath of fresh air; since he had eaten a decent meal; since he had taken a shower. He took it as bad timed punishment.
Elena had nicely brought in and out a toothbrush and water, to keep him away from becoming utterly disgusting. He certainly missed the days of being locked up and a vampire; it was much easier really, where hygiene was concerned.
Elijah Mikaelson was the one who came in more often than the others; the first few days to check on his wounds, the next just for the enjoyment, he supposed. Kol had stopped his sporadic therapeutic visits, thank you very much. Damon clearly felt much better not having to endure the beating of his lifetime every other day. Klaus, however, had come in only three times. Once, when he and Elijah had gotten him out and on the top of a roof. Fucking psychos. Another time, to bring in the vampire kept inside a structure of bricks, nearly killing the man in the process. And the last, had been to offer him a deal of a lifetime.
Give the cure up for the chance to become a vampire again. So far, the hybrid hadn't come back for his answer. Damon gulped, still not sure of what it would be. He knew, that if Klaus really wanted the cure, he would take it. At least now, he would be getting something out of it too.
However, Damon wasn't as stupid as people thought him to be. He had seen Katherine practically decompose in front of his very eyes when her body had been drained of the cure. And if Katherine hadn't found an alternative, he highly doubted anyone ever would.
Still, he couldn't forget that the originals were experts at getting what they wanted. If Klaus Mikaelson put it on himself to find a cure for the cure. Huh. Then, Damon held a glint of hope that maybe he could get it done.
And in that last thought, remained his endless dilemma. He was hopeful, which meant he wanted it. It was no secret to anybody, that he had loved being a vampire. Had fallen in love with everything about it. Stefan had once spent an entire day trying to crack some sense into his head, saying that it wasn't right that he wanted to become human for Elena. Damon was aware, however, that Stefan would've done it for her too had he been in his shoes. Still, he had to admit, that he didn't much enjoy living life without the upper hand; without compulsion and inhumane strength.
If he ever told this to Elena, she would be devastated. She remained convinced that being human was the best possible thing in the world. That cutting ties with the supernatural was the only way to be happy. Damon had agreed with her for a long time, this on top of being utterly blissful living with her. He supposed being human was the best thing when you didn't have accumulated enemies on every corner. The originals capturing him and his current state, convinced him that had he been a vampire then, he could've at least put up a fight.
The unalterable truth remained, he would have to pick the cure or pick Elena Gilbert, love of his life.
The choice had seemed simple at the beginning. He had fought for Elena for so long that, giving her up for something as crude as vampirism sounded ridiculous. He had put his relationship with Stefan in jeopardy countless times for her too. And Elena had managed to save him from becoming someone unlovable, she had changed him. He had known what he would say to Klaus: that he could go fuck himself and he could wait another fifty years for the cure if he wanted to.
But then, Klaus didn't come around. And his mind started playing tricks. He started second guessing himself. Maybe he began to see things as they were. That maybe he was no good without being a monster. That he had made a terrible mistake in taking the cure in the first place. He had ruined Elena's life by getting her involved with him. But really, that had been Stefan. Whatever.
Now, he was sure he wanted the power back. Knew he missed the bliss drinking blood straight from the vein had given him. He wanted to be the Damon Salvatore that everyone either loved or despised. So, he only wished there was a way for him to get everything he ever wanted. Elena and vampirism. Two fundamentally opposite things in his mind.
"You look awful, mate." Kol said from the gate, a wicked smile in place and arms crossed in front of his chest. Damon looked at him, not able to hide his startle.
"Yes, well, this is no five star hotel." Damon replied with scorn. Kol laughed, now walking closer.
"At least you're still alive. If I'd had a choice in the matter, trust me, lad, you wouldn't be." Kol spat, but his face didn't hold any believable anger. Not towards Damon anyway. No matter, the former vampire believed he had become Kol's favorite anger management dummy.
"You've mentioned that." Damon threw back, with a pretty grin. Kol smirked and looked away from him, to the pile of bricks that held a vampire inside.
"Oh, and who might you be?" He yelled, walking closer. From the square that had been left unfilled, the eyes of another monster stared back at Kol. No answer came, like usual. Many had tried to get a word out of the man, no one had been capable. "Ah, don't talk much, do you? You should probably give your cellmate some tips on that."
Damon rolled his eyes, exhausted of hearing his voice and accent. His time in solitude and utter silence had accostummed him to a certain standard of calmness. He heard Kol chuckle again, his tell on an upcoming uninterest.
"How dull. In my time, prisoners used to be a lot more entertaining." The original said to Damon and walked back closer to him.
"Klaus didn't give you any favourite treatment, then?" Damon pointed, biting his tongue as soon as he had spoken. He really just couldn't hold himself back sometimes.
He supposed, at least, he would take amusement where he could.
"You really don't learn, mate." Kol said, followed by a small laugh. He came closer to Damon, squatting to be on his eye level. Raising Damon's chin with his fingers, Kol smiled again. "Watch your back when you get out of here."
Last thing Damon saw was the threat on his eyes, before he got knocked out cold.
/
Unbeknownst to many, Klaus Mikaleson actually had a heart. And though most of the ones privy to this well-kept secret thought this was only the truth when it came to his family, they couldn't be more wrong. He'd had a heart, and emotions, so many of them in fact, for a number of worthy people.
He could make a list to help the skeptical, but if he was standing by his honesty, he could admit he had forgotten the name of several. Nevertheless, only the most important remained. A list would turn out to be unnecessary as it turned out.
Well, despite this, he liked being seen as the heartless bastard so many had labeled him as. It provided a sort of comfort, as it ridded him of high expectations and disappointments. With this label, he possessed the freedom to only show affection when and with whom he wanted. No need to wear masks the rest of the time as he'd always thought Elijah did. As he wouldn't ever deny that sometimes, maybe more often, he was that insensitive monster he was understood to be.
It helped a lot, also, when one wanted to reign a city filled with ruthless creatures who could overpower him if they actually tried. Not that he had given them a reason to, in present.
Today, however, he was exposed and so was his heart. This, because he was walking down the street with his daughter in arms and Hayley walking beside him. Two of the most important people in his life just there, presenting a reachable target to their enemies.
Some of the locals and tourists paid them no mind, why should they, after all. Only a mother, a father and a child, making their way through the crowds, destination unknown. But here and there he spotted turning heads and narrowed eyes headed their way. Most likely vampires or witches, werewolves who weren't all that happy with the current regime.
He felt defensive and surrounded, and so he held onto Hope tighter. Hayley was saying something, but he wasn't listening, at all. And Hope was waving at the strangers she thought could only be friends, nevermind explaining to her that they all were potential enemies in making.
Vincent Griffith had an apartment on the second floor of some old age apothecary building. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually live in the church where all witchy business was handled. They had to go through the store first, and the handler had to invite them in, which he did with obvious reluctance.
Hayley took Hope in her arms once they had climbed up the stairs, and Klaus knocked on the door. They looked at each other for a second, a silent question in their eyes. As in, should we just run instead? Away from New Orleans and danger. There was also a silent no from and to each other.
One thing Hayley had been fairly adamant about in raising their daughter was that they would teach her to be brave and good. To do the right thing always. Of course, Hayley Marshall's daughter would never be a coward, she would always be the hero.
Davina opened the door and smiled, for once she didn't scowl when she saw Klaus. And in any other situation, he might have made a comment about it, but he believed he had learned better than that. The witch in question might despise him and with reason, but she did love his daughter and he would never deny Hope protection and care, no matter the source of it. Besides, much to his displeasure, she was his sister-in-law now.
"Hey," Freya said, as she stood from the purple couch facing the window across the wall. Bonnie Bennet was next to her, and she tried to smile at them, her hands clasped in front of her.
"Let's get this over quickly," Hayley said, not bothering with addressing any of the witches. Klaus could see, she was still angry, as was he.
When he'd gone downstairs in the morning, Elijah was gone and so was Freya. He had intended to talk with his sister, but it seemed his luck only got so far. There was only Hayley, pushing their daughter to eat her food. He'd sat down with them and negotiated with Hope that if she ate her fruit now, they could go for ice cream later.
Hope, ever the sneaky negotiator, said she would only eat if she could get two scoops of whatever flavours she wanted. Hayley had whispered to him that if their child couldn't sleep in the night because of the sugar, he would be left alone in the possible battle.
Vincent had called him only minutes later, telling him that they needed them to get Hope to his apartment. Assuring that his daughter wouldn't feel a thing as they drew her blood. Obviously, their moods had almost impossibly worsened.
"Hope, sweetheart," Klaus began, helping her onto a chair, "remember what we told you about always wearing your bracelet?" She nodded.
"Yes, dad. See! I'm wearing it." He smiled at her, and watched as Hayley picked her up and then sat her down on her lap.
"It's to protect your magic," Hayley told her, "do you remember aunt Freya telling you about it, your magic?"
Hope nodded again, and searched for Freya across the room until she found her, smiling at her brightly. "She says she'll teach me how to use it someday."
"Right," Freya spoke up, making her way through the furniture and her peers. Vincent came out of a room then, and eyed the new additions to his home as if he hadn't been expecting them. "And I will, Hope. But today- today we need your help with something."
"I can help," the little girl said, excited beyond her understanding. Klaus stiffened, and clenched his fist by his side. He was ever so lucky that other people were so willing to explain to his daughter what he could not. Not yet, at least, or in great depth.
"See, we're having trouble with a- a spell, sweetheart," Davina stepped in, leaning over slightly, "And we're missing one final ingredient, and you know...you know you're special, right, Hope?"
The child nodded again, but this time she wasn't as confident in her affirmative. Hayley put her arms around her and Klaus looked away. "You are," Hayley whispered to Hope.
"They need to take some of your blood, love," Klaus said, and everyone turned to him like he'd said something wrong. He scowled at all of them. He didn't believe in going around circles when something needed to be said. "But don't worry," he added, "you won't feel a thing, I promise."
Hope looked momentarily terrified as she turned to look at her father, "I don't like needles, dad."
Klaus felt like his heart, which was very much not a thing of the myths, was breaking with each second they spent in this place. He came down to his knees in a flash and took Hope's hand in his. He noticed Hayley was holding her even tighter.
"There's no needles, sweetheart." He felt worse that it was all he could say to her to make it better.
"It'll be with magic, Hope," said Freya, taking a step closer and no longer tentative. As if coming in to the rescue. "And like your dad said, you won't feel a thing."
There was the longest pause as they all waited for Hope to say something. The child had never been one to talk much, but she was always enthusiastic when she was with her family. Klaus feared, for a moment, that Hope would plainly state she didn't want to do this. Because then, he knew, neither Hayley nor he would ever force her into this. They would run if they had to, they would forego whoever had to die if Hope said the word.
But then, Davina was sitting on the floor and smiling at Hope. "Look, I'll show you," she pushed her sleeves away and showed her bare arm to his daughter, then she whispered something and ran her index finger through the flesh. A cut appeared, and her face was the same: unaffected and cheerful. "It doesn't hurt, it's like a tickle."
Hope was staring, seemingly fascinated, but she kept quiet still. Maybe waiting to see what happened next, as was Klaus.
"See, this is how we get the blood," she turned around and made a gesture to Vincent, who handed her one of the vials that rested on his dining table. The young witch grabbed it, and then handed it to Hope, "Hold this for me?" She nodded, grabbing onto the small glass container.
"Bis tincto sanguine fluctus," Davina whispered, "bis tincto sanguine fluctus," and then again, and again. The murmurs of her spell ceased, and from the cut of her skin, an elegant and thin flow of deep red started floating up and out of her veins. Almost like a string, it moved with her hand gestures, and it slowly made it to the vial in Hope's hands.
Klaus turned to look at his daughter, who was watching the ordeal with awe, and a wonderment he wished he saw more often in her eyes. She was smiling now, no longer concerned with needles and the prospect of pain, she even seemed excited again.
Once the vial was full, Davina stopped the movement of her hand, and the blood stopped flowing. She whispered something again as her index finger moved through the wound on her skin, and it closed. As if nothing had happened at all. "See? Everything is okay, and it didn't hurt one bit."
The room was silent once more. Vincent, Freya and the Bennet witch stood on the sidelines with nervous looks on their faces. Klaus and Hayley shared a look again as Davina took the vial from Hope's grasp.
"Do you want to do it, baby?" Hayley asked her daughter, her voice cracking a bit. But Hope turned over her shoulder to give her mother a smile.
"Okay, but can I hold that thingy again?" Klaus let out the breath he had been holding in, and pressed his palm to his forehead, attempting to calm down once more.
"Sure you can," Davina said, standing up from the floor.
"We only need to take a little bit more, is that okay?" Freya asked her niece, who nodded as if she had been unaffected by the prospect the entire time.
Klaus stood from where he had been kneeling and assessed the movements of the witches. Vincent handed Freya what was closer to being a bowl than it was a vial. His heart skipped a beat. The Bennet witch moved around the table and started skipping through the pages of a grimoire. In this, he caught Davina's gaze, who nodded to him after a moment.
Freya walked closer to them and offered Hope the container, with a smile that Klaus recognized as ungenuine. His sister was probably as nervous as he was, and not once did she try to make eye contact with either him or Hayley.
Klaus watched as Hope offered her arm to her aunt, and then there was the whispering of, "Bis tincto sanguine fluctus." Again and again.
He had to close his eyes, as he replayed in his mind the assurance Caroline had gifted him the night before. Maybe she was right, knowing that he would need her when the act was over.
/
I really hope you enjoyed this one. Longest chapter yet.
I don't think I can thank you enough for the continued support, this story is for you, my wonderful readers. Honestly, your comments on the last chapter had me crying and kept a smile on my face for days. Thank you a hundred times.
Chapter 19 will be posted this time next week.