A/N Welcome back to day three! We are officially now in Week Six of Klaroline AU Season, 2021. This week is all human. Be sure to check out the event on tumblr at klaroline-event. Thank you to everyone playing along. Your guesses have been amazing. I had so much fun writing Caroline and Klaus' back and forth in this chapter. We're about to find out what really happened, so buckle up. It's going to be a wild ride!

Chapter Three – Revelation

"The grave soul keeps its own secrets, and takes its own punishment in silence." – Dorothy Dix

6:47 PM – Five Hours, Thirteen Minutes to Execution

"Agent Forbes!" Klaus greeted brightly the second the prison door began to open. As a death row inmate in federal custody, he resided in Terre Haute Penitentiary about an hour outside Indianapolis. She'd called ahead to have him ready for questioning but asked they not reveal who was coming, hoping to catch him off guard. The delight all over his face gave her hives and did not surprise her in the least. He was chained to a steel table, wrists cuffed tightly in front of him, ankles shackled to the ground. They were in a cement room with a large plexiglass window for the guards to watch from the outside, but she entered alone. "I was so hoping you'd come pay me a conjugal visit on my dying day. Dreams do come true!"

"Seriously?" Caroline growled as she dumped her messenger bag on the cement ground in frustration and set down a plastic cup of water on the table. But only a cup for herself. She wasn't giving him anything unless he asked for it, and then she would ask for something in return. "You're going to die in less than six hours and you're flirting with me?"

"What else would you like me to do with you?" he asked tauntingly, an amused smile playing about his raspberry lips even as he sat chained to a steel table in navy blue prison scrubs, cerulean eyes roving over her body provocatively.

"God, you're insufferable," she groaned, rolling her eyes as she sat down across from him. At his raised brow, she scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "This isn't a conjugal visit, Mr. Mikaelson. It's an official one."

"Don't official interviews have cameras?" he asked innocently, both of them knowing the minute he saw one he wouldn't say a single word until she'd removed it from the room.

Caroline bit back a smirk as the weight of a digital recorder sat heavily in the side pocket of her black cargo pants. "You don't talk when there's a camera. Figured I'd save us the trouble since we're on limited time."

"Well, then you can see my confusion," he replied merrily. "If it wasn't an official visit, what else would bring you to me in the eleventh hour if not to indulge in your darkest desires?"

Leaning forward on her elbow, the agent pinched the bridge of her nose, a low grumble emitting from the back of her throat. "The only desire I have for you to indulge is to explain to me what you were doing in Boston at the time Stefan Salvatore was killed," she stated plainly, glaring up at him spitefully.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He replied casually enough but she saw the minute tightening of his jaw and barely there furrowing of his brows before he flashed her his most charming smile. "It seems you've been given some bad information, but since you're here…"

"Don't," she chided, holding up her palm to halt whatever lecherous suggestion he had in mind. Reaching down into her messenger bag, she pulled out the report she'd gotten from Luke and tossed it across the steel metal table. "This is a photo of you at a toll booth on the I93 an hour before the murder. Wanna explain that to me?"

Klaus peeked over at the document and simply shrugged. "It's fake," he replied dismissively, barely glancing it over.

"I have spent all day proving that it isn't!" she gritted out behind clenched teeth. "I have been working my ass off so that you don't have to die and you can't even look at it?!"

"Aww, I always knew you cared about me," he teased with a flirtatious wink. "But, as I said, it's fake." Leaning forward with a lewd grin, he raised his eyebrows, eyes flicking up and down her plain black shirt. "So, why don't we skip past the interrogation part of this visit and jump right to the conjugal portion of my last night on earth."

"God, what is wrong with you?!" Jumping to her feet, she grabbed the paper and held it right in his face. "That is you outside Boston an hour before you were allegedly in New York killing Stefan Salvatore! How can you deny what's right in front of you?" Without replying to her outburst, Klaus looked up at her almost pityingly and she realized how closely she was standing to him, his thigh brushing her knee. With an annoyed huff, she shook herself off and set the paper back down on the table, returning to her seat. "Do you seriously have absolutely nothing to say in your own defense?"

"I've had many things to say in my defense over the years," he quipped, "and the jury and judges ignored all of them."

"Because you confessed," she reminded him bitterly. "You confessed to a crime you obviously did not commit and here I am trying to help you-"

"Well, I didn't bloody well ask for you help, did I?" His aggravated shout had her eyes widening in shock. He'd been in enough prison fights before being transferred to the isolation of death row for her to know he had a temper, but he'd never once raised his voice at her. Glaring off to the side hatefully, the air around them shifted and she knew he wasn't going to say another word.

Unless she played by his rules.

Klaus was damn good at getting under Caroline's skin, but she wasn't a baby investigator anymore. There was one definitive way she could always keep him talking. But, in a world of black and white, it delved into the grays that she always did her best to ignore. Internally kicking herself, she gritted her teeth and inhaled deeply through her nose. "Hypothetically speaking…" As soon as she managed to choke out the two words she hated behind gritted teeth, she closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the mischief dancing in his, but when she opened them again, she knew she had him. His lips quirked up in a devious smile and while they both knew he would never admit to anything outright, maybe if she gave him enough rope, he'd hang himself just enough to justify reopening the investigation. "If a person were to confess to a crime they did not commit, why would they?"

His mouth curled up behind his gruff stubble as his eyes twinkled merrily. He'd lowkey confessed to half a dozen smaller crimes to her over the years, but not once had she been able to use a single word he'd said. It infuriated her and he knew it, which only added to his enjoyment of watching her squirm. "Oh, there are a number of reasons, I suppose," he mused, carefully watching her. "Fame and notoriety come to mind. Some people just love being the center of attention."

"No kidding," she muttered under her breath. "I don't know. It would take an especially desperate type of narcissist to confess to a death row offense just to be in the spotlight."

Klaus' smile wavered but only slightly before he forced his annoyance down. If there was anything she'd learned he hated, it was questioning his overinflated ego. "Well, I can think of a few other reasons."

Caroline smiled, pleased that she'd kept him talking. "Enlighten me then."

"Perhaps a person thought at the time that they would eventually get out of it." His tone was bitter at that. "I mean, the criminal justice system is hardly perfect. There are plenty of ways to escape a guilty verdict."

"Such as jury tampering," she suggested sweetly. "Twice."

Klaus looked down at his bound hands and then up at her with a mischievous grin. "Jury tampering is hard to prove. Twice." His first two trials had been declared mistrials after several of the jurors came forward that $50,000 in cash was slipped under the door of their hotel room with a note that said, 'Not guilty.' When Caroline questioned him about it, he reminded her he was in jail and couldn't possibly have done such a thing, but he wished her luck finding the guilty party. She never did.

Resisting the urge to flash him her middle finger, she gathered her thoughts and smiled sweetly before going in for his biggest sore spot. "But, if it turned out that wasn't going to happen, I imagine they would recant before dying, at the very latest. Unless, of course, they were covering for someone they were afraid of."

The minute she saw his eyes narrow, she knew he wouldn't be able to resist negating that horrible accusation. "Or, he was covering for someone he cared about very deeply. Not everyone is a coward, Agent Forbes."

There. They both knew he hadn't said it in so many words, but Caroline would have bet her life on it that he was covering for one of his siblings… but which one? Leaning forward on her elbows, she tilted her head to the side and spoke as if talking to herself. "Well, that would leave a lot of questions for the original investigators. You know, even after cases are closed, sometimes people in law enforcement go back, look things over, find things they may have missed the first time around. It would really be a shame if a person were put to death only to be exonerated posthumously and the guilty party arrested anyway."

For the first time, Caroline looked over at Klaus and didn't see the charming man always trying to play games with her. In an instant, he'd transformed into a calloused and hardened criminal capable of the worst kinds of evil. The intensity in his gaze gave her shivers, but she held her head high and waited for him to speak. "I imagine it would take quite the cold hearted detective to let a man die for no reason."

The agent shrugged casually and continued in an almost amused tone. "Or a curious one," she quipped. "I suppose it would be easier to have a cold heart if that detective was left with no answers and simply wanted the truth of the matter."

"And if she did have answers?" he bit out, hands clenching as he tried not to curl them into fists, never one to give away what he was feeling.

"Hmmm," she hummed speculatively. "I suppose it would depend on what those answers were."

"Hypothetically, of course."

Humoring him so he would keep talking, she nodded her head. "Hypothetically."

"Well, hypothetically," he continued innocently, flashing her puppy dog eyes, "I imagine a person would have confessed because they felt they were guilty of why the crime was committed in the first place."

"Oh yeah?" she asked curiously, watching his body language carefully. "Why might that be?"

Klaus shifted in his chair uncomfortably, hands clasped tightly together in front of him. It took him a lot longer to respond than he usually did, always quick with an answer or a question of his own. She waited patiently as he gathered his thoughts. "Perhaps they would feel they should have been there to protect someone but weren't." His voice was barely a whisper and he had to look away, unable to meet her eye, but the guilt was coming off him in waves. She would never have thought him capable of remorse, but as she looked over at him, she couldn't deny what was right in front of her.

Caroline gulped down her sympathies and schooled her features back to a professional. "No one is responsible for a crime someone else committed, no matter how much they might feel it. The guilty party should still be brought to justice."

Forcing down his emotions, the condemned man barked out a laugh at that, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Oh, Agent Forbes, always so determined to stick to the letter of the law. Your parents were both in law enforcement, if I remember correctly. Is that why you became and FBI Agent?"

"We aren't talking about me." Caroline knew that game, having fallen for it far, far too many times as a young agent. "We're talking about making sure an innocent man isn't put to death."

Klaus flicked his gaze up to her, silently assessing her like a predator sizing up its prey. Once again, she felt a chill race down her spine at the emptiness she saw behind his topaz eyes. "I imagine if a man were released after going to such great lengths to protect someone, it would not go well for the person responsible for apprehending the guilty party." His voice was cold and she could feel the threat lingering between them.

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down defiantly, refusing to be cowed even though she could feel fear running through her veins. She had no doubt that if he ever got out and she'd been the one to arrest whatever sibling he was covering for, he would hunt her down to the ends of the earth. But when had a little death threat ever stopped her before? She'd been an agent for 15 years; it was hardly the first time someone had said such things to her. "Not everyone is afraid of doing the right thing."

Sensing their conversation was not going the way he wanted it to, the prisoner sat back and smiled pleasantly. "No, of course not. Prisons are meant to be reformatories, isn't that right?"

Unsure where he was going with this, she nodded warily. "For those who can be reformed."

"Well, surely any man willing to go to his death to protect someone must have some redemptive qualities," he mused, watching her reaction. She raised a brow to tell him to keep talking. "Hypothetically, if a person were to spend so much time behind bars only to be released – and the guilty party were never to be apprehended – I imagine he would keep his hands clean after that, especially if the one he was covering for never committed another crime after the one in question."

"Interesting theory," she said in a lighter tone, playing along. "It would seem awfully strange for the guilty party to remain undiscovered, though. These things have a way of coming out. After all, it's not just one investigator working a case."

"Well, perhaps the guilty party were to catch wind that an investigation may be coming their way," he suggested, eyeing her closely. "They may feel the need to take a vacation, perhaps to a country far, far beyond the reach of extradition. The one who confessed would likely even join them upon release, never to be heard from again."

Caroline could feel it coming. If she played her cards right, she could get him to tell her what really happened. She hated lying, even hypothetically, but if this was the only way to get answers, she'd just have to say what he needed to hear. "I suppose if a detective was curious enough to agree to such a thing, they would need a very good reason to suggest that vacation. And it would only happen if the guilty party had never even been suspected of another crime."

Klaus looked at the detective shrewdly from across the steel table, tapping his nails against the surface, wrists still shackled firmly in place. "You know, I've it heard it said one's career choice says a lot about them as a person," he mused speculatively. "Take my sister, for example. Rebekah works with social services. That's a rather interesting career for an heiress who could just as easily have been the next It Girl. But instead of bouncing between the Hamptons and Malibu, she chooses to stay in New York City in a studio apartment she can barely afford, refusing all our family's money."

"It's blood money," Caroline replied coldly, arms crossed over her chest. "All that says is that she'd rather help people who were hurt by men like you."

"Not like me," he corrected her, shaking his head. "She counsels women battling a different kind of monster." The prisoner leaned forward on his forearms as far as he was able, piercing topaz eyes boring into hers. "What does that tell you?"

Caroline's face fell, arms dropping to her lap as a chill raced down her spine and she had to avert her eyes. Rebekah worked with the Special Victims Unit. The weight of realization sat heavily on her shoulders as her lips parted to form a little 'o.' The gleam is Klaus' eye was triumphant as he sat back in his steel chair, but he said nothing, watching her curiously to see what she would do with all he hadn't said. She thought back on the crime scene photos. An entire clip from a Glock 19 had been fired at him, half of them landing in the wall despite Klaus' expert marksmanship. But it was where three of the seven bullets that hit him that finally made sense. He'd been shot in the head twice, once in the shoulder, once in the thigh, and three in the groin.

The silence stretched between them as neither said a word. When Caroline finally looked up long minutes later, her face was pale and her eyes had lost some of their shine. Their gazes met and they both knew she knew exactly what happened, the truth lingering tangibly between them. Her eyes burned as she swallowed hard, quickly bringing her plastic cup of lukewarm prison water to her suddenly parched lips. Blinking a few times, she schooled her features back into the mask she wore so well.

Clearing her throat, she broke the silence in a practiced tone of professionalism, although the underlying sympathy was undeniable even to a man who hadn't heard a kind word in fifteen years. "If something happened…" She inhaled a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and sitting up straighter in her uncomfortably cold metal chair. "If there were extenuating circumstances, the court would take them into account. Especially if the defendant was sixteen at the time."

With a dry chuckle, Klaus shrugged one shoulder casually. "When it comes to premeditated murder, I'm fairly certain sixteen is old enough to be tried as an adult. Isn't that right, Agent?" Frowning, Caroline nodded, knowing they both knew he was right. "And even with extenuating circumstances," he continued, the words emphatically dripping off his tongue like they were the most foul of profanities, "the best lawyers money can buy would only be able to plead such a crime down to second degree murder at best. I admit that I'm not as up to date on current sentencing statutes as I once was, but the last time I checked, that still meant at least twenty-five years in a federal prison, twenty with good behavior. That's an awfully long time for what many would consider justifiable homicide. And that's a best case scenario. It's just as likely that person would end up taking the place of the original confessor on death row." He flashed her that same angelic smile. "Hypothetically speaking."

"Hypothetically speaking," she repeated with a nod, both of them knowing they were way beyond that. As she considered the man sitting across from her, she'd never been surer in her life that Klaus Mikaelson was innocent. He was still a monster, of course, and had gone unpunished for more crimes than she could count – murdering his stepfather probably among them. But he hadn't done this, and he didn't deserve to die for it. "Justifiable or not, none of us have the right to take the law into our own hands. One person can't be the judge, jury and executioner. Vigilantism isn't justice."

"How fortunate that I've never claimed to be a vigilante, then." He smirked at the way she narrowed her eyes. "And that I confessed years ago to being the guilty party."

Caroline shook her head, gazing over at him sadly. "Why did you?" she asked quietly, eyeing the prisoner contemplatively. "You'd been investigated for plenty of other crimes and never confessed to a thing. Why this one?"

Klaus' gaze softened as he looked over at the agent who'd helped convict him and was now offering him salvation. Surely, she of all people could understand why he'd done it. He'd grown used to being chained like an animal over the last fifteen years, but as he longed to take her hand, the shackles on his wrists had never felt heavier. He couldn't help but feel if he could only reach out and touch her, he could make her understand… and leave him to die in peace. He sighed, his tone so low she barely heard him. "Have you ever loved anyone, Agent?"

The blonde shrugged. "Sure. Everyone has."

"Then wouldn't you do anything for them?"

"I wouldn't break the law," she replied defensively.

"Wouldn't you?" She looked up at his eyes and was surprised at the genuine pain she saw there. He'd been so arrogant, so aloof, so resigned to his own fate that she'd doubted there was anything real about him. But his topaz orbs were glistening with emotions he'd tried so hard to swallow that he was choking on them right in front of her. "Haven't you ever had someone you would do anything to protect, no matter the cost?" His voice cracked as he stared at her imploringly, pleading with her to understand. "Haven't you ever loved someone that much?"

Klaus' gaze was magnetic and she found it hard to look away as she thought about his question. She wouldn't have thought him capable of love when she'd taken his cold and callous confession fifteen years ago, but as she watched him carefully, she realized she'd been wrong. So wrong. Had she ever loved someone that much? She'd had a string of boyfriends, none of them serious as she was more married to her career than she ever could be to any man. She had close friends she'd known since childhood and she knew she loved them, but not that much. She was close to her father, but if she was honest, she wouldn't do it for him, either. Her thoughts fell on her mother. Liz had been dead for ten years but they'd been closer than close, and Caroline had cared for her during the final months of her life. But as she thought about what the condemned man was asking, she knew none of those loves ran that deep.

Finally shaking her head, the agent answered his question, voice a breath above a whisper. "No."

With a sigh, Klaus leaned back in his metal chair, ankles uncomfortably bolted to the cement ground. "Well, that explains it. If you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation." His lips turned up in a small smile, but there was something sad about it that she found unsettling. It was like he was sorry that had been her answer.

Caroline couldn't handle that pitying look and averted her gaze. Picking up her plastic cup, she sipped lightly at her water, the metallic taste of a poor filter heavy on her tongue. "Mr. Mikaelson-"

"Klaus," he said softly, cutting her off. She looked over at him in surprise, eyebrows furrowing together. "Call me Klaus." He smiled at her softly and she found herself returning it, realizing the simple dignity of being addressed by his first name was probably one he'd been denied for years. The more she talked with him, the less convinced she was that he was the monster she'd always thought him to be.

"Klaus," she repeated with a nod.

"Thank you," he said, the tiny hint of dimples present in his cheek. "I'm hours away from my death. Surely we can dispense with the formalities after all these years."

"You shouldn't be hours away from your death!" the agent huffed, emotions warring within her as she struggled to process all that she had learned about how she'd gotten things so wrong. "I have evidence to prove your innocence. You didn't do this, and you know you didn't. You don't deserve to die for something you didn't do! All you have to do is say this is you in the photo and a judge will grant you a stay of execution and we can reopen the investigation!"

The deep blue of his prison uniform made Klaus' topaz eyes seem impossibly deeper as he looked over at her sadly. He shook his head as he simply shrugged one shoulder, silently asking what more she wanted from him. "She's my sister." Caroline held his gaze, the tension between them thick as both knew the other wouldn't back down. "Whatever evidence you have won't change that, and nothing on this earth will convince me to recant my confession or get me to admit I was in Boston that day." Her gaze was steel as they stared each other down, but he could see the chink in her armor.

A war was waging behind her sapphire eyes and all he could do was hope she'd do what he considered the right thing. He'd spent the last fifteen years protecting his sister, rotting away in a tiny cell for a crime he didn't commit but had confessed to anyway. He saw her resolve waver in the way her jaw unclenched and shoulders slumped the tiniest bit. He was getting to her, making her question everything she'd ever known about right and wrong. With a sigh, he was the first to look away, allowing her to relax. She exhaled hard through her nostrils, again sipping her water.

Neither said a word for a long while as he waited for her to make a decision. Eventually, Klaus realized she wasn't going to. Not yet. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, something almost familiar about it, like they were actually friends after being enemies for so long. "Agent Forbes-"

"Caroline." She didn't know why she said it, but when his eyes snapped to hers, she gave him a slight nod. "After all these years, you can call me Caroline."

"Caroline," he repeated, tasting the word on his tongue as his dimples fully emerged for the first time in years. "My original trial concluded twelve years ago and I was sentenced to death. I've spent the time since asking the federal government not to kill me. But never once have I said I didn't do it, or that I don't deserve to be punished. All I've asked is that my sentence be commuted to life in prison with no possibility of parole. Last year, my final appeal was denied and the date of my execution was set. This date." She nodded, well aware of the facts of his case, having followed every step of a very long road. "That's the only thing I've asked of anyone for as long as I can remember, not to die. But as I find myself facing the alternative, I'm forced to ask the opposite." She swallowed hard as she looked over at him, the desperation in his eyes making her gulp down her emotions. "Let me go," he implored her softly, tone pleading. "Caroline, please. Don't do this. I came to terms with my fate long ago and I have no regrets. Tell your boss I said it wasn't me and leave the case closed. Let me go knowing it wasn't all for naught."

The agent looked up at the cement ceiling, exhaling in a whoosh. "You're asking me to break the law."

"I'm asking you to do the right thing."

"The right thing according to you," she snapped, trying to convince herself she had any clue how to respond. Dragging her hands down her face, she felt so tired. And confused. Her world had been turned upside down and inside out so many times in the last few hours that she didn't know what was right anymore. "I have to do what I think is right."

Klaus could feel his heart thundering in his chest, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple despite the heavily air conditioned cold surrounded them. "And what is that?" he asked, and for the first time, he sounded afraid.

Getting to her feet, Caroline shook her head, a lost expression on her face as she shrugged, speaking more to herself than the man shackled to a steel table begging for death. "I have no idea." Turning her back, she walked to the door and waved to the guard to come open it.

"Caroline-"

"I'll be back," she promised, looking back over her shoulder and giving him a nod.

Klaus returned it with a forlorn gaze behind his topaz eyes, his fate resting in the hands of the woman who'd helped sentence him to death and now wanted to take back her biggest mistake. He watched hopelessly as she walked out the door, left alone to wonder if he'd ever again see the light of day.

He hoped not.

A/N And there you have it, folks. What really happened. If you were in Caroline's shoes, taking everything into consideration, what would you do? Let me know in the comments! See you tomorrow! (No concrit please.)