AN: Another incentive written for klarolinegivesback and the very awesome lynyrdwrites, who has an excellent taste in ships and kittens. Thank you so much for your donation and I can only hope you like this story.
This is a Klaroline/Marvel crossover with Caroline as Tony's daughter and Winter Soldier!Klaus. Chronologically, it takes place after Civil War (there might be some spoilers ahead) but it's not really canon-compliant with Marvel Cinematic Universe, I just picked what I love from it :)
Triggers: mentions of mind manipulation.
Most people would say being the daughter of a billionaire was like living a dream.
Well, those people clearly didn't know Tony Stark.
For the better part of her childhood, Caroline had no idea who her father was. She had spent the first fifteen years of her life on Asgard with her mother Elizabeth, who happened to be the youngest sister of Odin. All she knew was that her father was a human, the fact Loki had never failed to allude to during their many squabbles. Her parents' fleeting relationship sparked during the war between Asgardians and the Fire Demons, a conflict that had somehow spread over to the furthest edges of Nine Realms, including Earth.
How could her father have come up with an idea that she needed protection, that it would be safer for her not to be associated with Tony Stark, Caroline would never understand. Having grown up among gods and half-gods, she couldn't imagine anything that she wouldn't be able to handle. What were the mere dangers of Earth in the face of Odin's wrath or the fights between Thor and Loki that had shaken the palace grounds more than once? Sif's anger whenever the God of Mischief would pull one of his silly little pranks on her?
To think for a second that whatever human perils awaiting her on Earth would scare her off, after she had experienced life among gods and the politics of the Nine Realms, was a sign of significant arrogance on part of her father.
After all, Caroline was far from being a plain half-god. And she wasn't a god, either.
She was something else entirely.
Here, on Earth, Caroline could be, and usually was, viewed as a teenage girl, too young to know what's best for her. When in reality, she was so much more. She was so much older. Her skin might have been young but her scales wore the wisdom of her ancestors and the history of Nine Realms. Human years were irrelevant for her kind, it was the miles flown under her wings that mattered. There was nothing she feared and nothing she couldn't face.
Although perhaps, in retrospect, it was Caroline who had been the arrogant one.
For whatever she had thought she knew, whatever she'd been certain she was prepared for, it hadn't made her ready for...him.
Since moving to Earth to live with her father, Caroline had been slowly getting to know all the Avengers. Natasha, with her deadly grace and vigilant eyes, who had been teaching her hand-to-hand combat and knife-throwing. Her barely-there smile, that still managed to warm her skin, was something she wasn't giving right and left and Caroline considered it a personal accomplishment when after weeks of training, she had been favoured with one.
Then there was Steve, acting like a giant awkward teddy bear most of the time and yet, barking orders with the voice of steel at missions. His old-fashioned demeanor making you wish to strangle him at times and yet, he commanded loyalty like no other. Caroline knew he would take a bullet for her as well as put a bullet in anyone who dared to dream of hurting her.
If there was one thing Tony Stark and Steve Rogers agreed on, it was the absolute priority of Caroline's safety. That, and the hobby they made of scaring off all of her "suitors", as Cap would put it.
After a short while, she was deeply integrated with all of them. She loved talking to Clint and Sam, drowning them in details of her dating life during their coffee runs, without which both of them would be grumpy all morning. Rhodey was a ball of sunshine, even during the worst of his rehabilitation trainings and it seemed like he's made it his life's mission to put a smile on her face. Wanda was always curious of other realms, the happiness that gleamed in her eyes at Caroline's tales clouded occasionally with a shadow of grief.
Over time, they all bonded together around her, over shared secrets, covert missions (that her father allowed her to take part in after months and months of arguments and some professional nagging courtesy of Pepper) and spilled blood. No exceptions, with their little quirks, faults and pain, she wanted it all and she was ready to take it and give even more in return.
They had all become her family or actually, something more. They were all hers.
Except, perhaps, the long-lost friend turned into a Hydra assassin with an icy gaze that nothing and no one could hide from. When he looked at her, her second skin prickled to get out and fire burned deep in her chest, the creature inside of her dying to take its claim despite all the warnings of her rational mind.
Like she'd said, she wasn't ready for him at all.
[Longing.]
Laughter filled the streets. Hot summer air rested on his damp skin. There was a fair in the city and Brooklyn smelled of cotton candy and sweat. It smelled like home.
[Rusted.]
His bones ached, the way they hurt an old man just before the rain. With each excruciating screech of metal, shivers would crawl up his spine. Joints crackled as he forced them to move, muscles that had been long forgotten, burned, crashed under the weight of the passing years.
He hurt all over.
[Seventeen.]
How long had it been? How long since the Whisper started sipping poison in his ears? Since he stopped being who he once had been? He felt so bloody old.
[Daybreak.]
The Voice was resilient. For what seemed like eternity, it had been his only companion and now, it was the only thing he knew. The Voice poured like honey but its words were iron and blood.
Only blood, blood...Blood.
[Furnace.]
The blaze and smoke were everlasting, they seared down to his bones, marrow melted. All the memories were torched, and all the feelings incinerated, till there was nothing left in him. Nothing but the barren desert. And all it remembered was the agony. The agony and the Voice.
[Nine.]
The monster had many heads. And every time you cut one off, a new regrew in its place. Hail. Hail to the monster.
[Benign.]
Soft and pliant. Lax. And ashes piling on his bones. His mind was lagging behind, his skin crumpling from dryness. Inferno turned into frost. Frost that could never end. It would be better if it didn't.
[Homecoming.]
What a strange word it was. Home. The Voice kept telling him he had none. Home was the seat of the electric chair he had been tortured on. The smell of blood and metal. Once, there had been this vague sense of something else, something more, like the girl with straight blonde hair and a whiny voice. A skinny boy with pale blue eyes. Yet, no matter how hard he struggled, with each whisper of the Voice, the glimpses faded further and further away.
[One.]
The silence had been overwhelming at first. It screamed at the inhumane frequency, it pierced whatever had been left of his soul. He thought himself deaf and after the ages of loneliness, even the Voice sounded like the sweetest melody. What a treacherous swan song it was.
[Freight car.]
Sparks coming off rails reflected in that boy's eyes. Tortured and guilty. His grasp was weakening even though he was trying so damn hard.
It was a long way down.
Nik.
Nik.
Nik!
Hold on.
Who was this Nik? Who was this boy with pain etched on his face?
It was a long way down, steel edges and ceaseless darkness. And he couldn't hold on, not any longer.
Nik!
He descended into the pits of hell.
Good morning, soldier.
Hell. How entirely fitting. Hell was emptiness. Hell was blankness. It was a red star on his arm, redder than blood.
Ready to comply.
Comply! Comply, comply, comply…
Klaus woke up with a silent scream dying on his lips and cold sweat glistening on his face.
He hated the cold. But he didn't know anything else. Even if he did, he couldn't remember it.
Taking long deep breaths to slow down his raging heartbeat, he threw back the sheets sticking to his damp skin. He swiftly jumped into his sweats, having decided one could never be too careful roaming around the Avengers Tower, even if it was the cold dead night. With so many of them occupying the same space, going in and out on the missions, you never knew who else could be awake.
Once he arrived at the kitchen, Klaus smirked, already regretting his choice to put on the pants.
She was there. The ruffled curls and sleepy eyes gave her this adorably dishevelled look, one that still managed to knock the breath out of him. The strap of her top just refused to stay in place, slipping off her shoulder in the most enticing manner, as if it's sole purpose was to tease Klaus.
She was Tony's daughter, for fuck sake's. And their relationship had been strained enough already and that was an understatement of a century.
What kind of relationship you had with someone whose parents you had killed?
Even if he had been under Hydra's influence, his hands like an appendix of someone else's body, his conscience bleached.
With time, Tony had grown to be gracious enough to allow him an apartment within the walls of the Avengers Tower. Because despite all the fighting, dark secrets and quiet betrayals, in face of all their differences, Tony still, unyieldingly, cared about Steve - and Klaus had always been the Cap's brother of choice.
It was one of those things Klaus had noticed the blonde in front of him and her father had in common - they were warriors, each in their own right, profoundly loyal and devoted to those they considered friends.
Lethal yet caring.
The prudent decision would most certainly be to greet her and then go on about his business. However, rational thoughts had left him approximately around the moment he laid his eyes on her sunshine hair and smile.
Caution was overrated, anyway.
"Couldn't sleep, sweetheart?" Smirking, he felt a rush of satisfaction as she visibly stiffened at the sound of his voice.
He knew very well she wasn't afraid of him. Caroline had never feared him, even when she'd learnt of his part in her grandparents' death. But she was aware of his presence, her body tensing whenever he was around and the possible reasons behind it brought about an unusual giddiness.
"Seems like I'm not the only one," she stated drily in response, taking a sip of warm milk she was nursing in her hands.
He sent her an amused grin as he headed to the fridge, grabbing a huge box of ice cream out of it. "No rest for the wicked," he grinned at her while propping a spoonful of it into his mouth.
Caroline shuddered at the sight, repulsed at the idea of something that cold touching her tongue. "Well, you said it, not me," she replied, her vigilant eyes noting the slightest changes in his expression and cringes of his muscles. The fact was, he might have smiled at her but it lacked the usual warmth. The warmth that always seemed to caress her skin whenever he would look at her and the creature crawling under her human exterior adored it, preening under it. Also, the fact he hadn't addressed her in his typical manner, with one of this British endearments she pretended so hard to hate, spoke volumes of his actual mood.
Klaus could feign all he wanted but she knew something was bothering him. And, despite all her efforts to crush it down, there was this deep need gnawing at her bones to know.
From all the Avengers, the Winter Soldier was the hardest one for her to read. Naturally, it might have been partially due to the fact that he was just about the newest addition to the team, even if his history with certain members, not excluding her father, ran deep.
He was so full of contradictions that the puzzle drove her dragon mad. Caroline could recognize the deep devotion he held for Steve, the steel will to protect all of them obvious with every calculated strike he threw during ops. On the other side, more than once she could see the ruthlessness of his nature, the cold chill of winter reflecting in his irises anytime he would take life. Sometimes Nat would spoke of him too, and when she did, Caroline could see the shadow crossing her eyes, like the old wraith that was lingering in the far corner of her mind.
It wasn't enough to stir her away though. Because as violent as he could get, as cold and closed as he sometimes was with her, Klaus had never once hurt her. More than that, he listened to her, in fact, every time she spoke, she could feel his hunger to know her tingling underneath her scales.
Hunger that very much mirrored her own and that, right now, prompted her to dig deeper.
"So what was the nightmare about?" she prodded, cocking her brow as Klaus choked on the spoonful of ice cream he took into his mouth.
Gulping loudly, he sent her a quizzical look. "How did you know?" he asked, face molding into the iron mask he presented to the most of the world.
That would just not do.
"Well, apart from the fact that it was etched all over your face till a minute ago? Call it intuition," the blonde coaxed him to answer.
For a moment, she wasn't sure he would respond as he kept fiddling with a spoon, his eyes studying the table in front of him. "I did have a nightmare," he finally whispered.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Caroline offered delicately, her gaze flicking to his fingers which were holding the spoon in a tight grip.
"I...it's...it's always the same. There's this man and his face is always blurry but his voice...He's repeating the words and I'm losing control. All control. I'm turning into a machine." The skin on his fingers turned paler and paler as he clutched them more forcefully, the spoon breaking in half with a crack.
From across the table, she reached to cover his hand with hers, thumb flicking to rub his palm in a soothing gesture. "You're not a machine. You won't go back to that. Just remember that you have people here that you care about, that care about you," she reassured him.
With a bitter smile, he nodded towards his metal arm, "Oh, but I very much am, sweetheart. And people I care about? I care about Steve. That tiny kid from Brooklyn who befriended the new guy with a foreign accent and too many bruises on his face. Who always sought trouble but he never failed to look out for me. And yet, when push came to shove, I was dead set on ending him. I could think of nothing else but ripping him apart, like I was ordered to do."
"But you didn't," she insisted, cradling his other hand as well and Klaus could swear he felt some of her warmth reaching the steel of it, even if it was impossible.
"It doesn't matter. I still managed to do far worse. Your grandparents being the most shameful example," he lowered his gaze, as if unable to meet her eyes.
The dragon roared, disgruntled at the turn of events. Flames of fury licked at her insides over what Hydra had made him do and how much he loathed himself for it. Perhaps it was better Klaus wasn't looking at her right now as he missed the fiery glint lighting up her focused glare. "Is that why you're always so protective of me? Out of guilt?" she asked, soured by the nagging suspicion.
Sweeping tongue over his lower lip, the action that stirred tension in her whole body, Klaus pondered the question, his fingers trailing over her knuckles and wrist, outlining the creases on her palm. "No," he denied decidedly, his eyes locking with hers at last and Caroline swallowed hard at the earnest expression hovering behind them.
They sat like this for quite some time, shadows moving across the kitchen as the sun began to rise. In friendly silence, he just kept stroking the smooth skin of her hand, making her dragon preen under the touch and it was as if he was aware how much she appreciated the soft caress. The ice cream he had been eating earlier melted completely when he mysteriously spoke, "I like your warmth."
The words murmured in a matter-of-fact tone made her glance at him questioningly.
"It's emanating from you, love. It's part of you," Klaus continued, smiling at her confusion. "Even if it's insufferably greedy of me, I wish I could wrap it all up around myself. Yet, there is this one person who, with all of ten words, can make me forget it in a matter of seconds. And then all I'll ever remember will be the cold. That's what keeps me up at night," he croaked, losing the smile immediately, his voice hoarse with stifled emotions.
Her heart broke a little when he confessed his biggest fear and Caroline could clearly see how lost he became in his past and these cursed words that still held so much power over him. His expression turned detached when she pulled her hands back from his hold but she only did so to stand up and stroll over to him on her way out of the kitchen. She stopped beside him and leaned over, whispering soothingly into his ear, "Sleep tight, Mikaelson. I won't let you lose yourself."
"Where's Nat?" Caroline's startled voice cut through the gym as she ambled in, frowning at the sight of Klaus that welcomed her instead of her favourite red-head.
"Why so disappointed, sweetheart? I'm wounded," he drawled, raking over her lithe form appreciatively. It was clad in a fitting top and tights and Klaus had never been more grateful that fabrics close to body were preferable during sparring.
In truth, Caroline was not disappointed at all. She revelled in the heat of his gaze, letting her own eyes trail up from the mess of his sand blonde curls, down to the necklaces hanging around his neck and the hard planes of his chest protruding against the elastic material of his t-shirt.
"That didn't answer my question," she retorted, tongue dancing over her suddenly dry lips.
Klaus followed the movement with that intense stare of his, one that seemed to be reserved exclusively for her. "Romanoff was sent to Budapest with Clint. Silas has been spotted there just hours ago. I took the liberty of replacing her this morning," he explained, his muscles suddenly growing tense.
Before she started opposing to the idea, Caroline realized something, propelled by the dark shadow haunting his eyes.
Silas, doctor of medicine and Hydra operative, had been the one to brainwash Klaus into Winter Soldier.
It must have been hell for him, to stay put on a mission like this one.
"Did my father…" There were no words to ask this delicately. And she was too blunt to try.
Klaus cocked an eyebrow at her hesitation. "No, sweetheart. Even your father wouldn't be able to make me stay," he finished dryly. "Steve suggested it would be better, actually."
Because if there was one person Klaus attempted to listen to, it was surely Steve Rogers. And perhaps Caroline.
"So what do you say, Caroline? You're not afraid of a little sparring session, are you?" Oh, how he goaded her, and with that evil grin on his face. "I dare you."
He really shouldn't have said that.
"You're on," she bristled through her teeth, excitement coiling down her abdomen. Her dragon was out and ready to play, her teeth sharpening and her nails prolonging, so much that she would need to watch out not to claw out his eyes.
Or worse. That would be such a shame, after all, the creature in her protesting at the thought of Klaus being hurt, even by her own hands.
Circling around the mat, they held one another's gaze, assessing the opponent. His eyes widened upon noting the subtle changes in her body and the feral expression etched on her face. Then, it happened so fast, neither was certain who threw the first punch. Their bodies fell into the focused dance, both expert at foreseeing the other's reaction, as if they were one.
It spoke of his prowess that she only noticed something was amiss after long minutes. Klaus wasn't using his full force and he avoided hitting her with his metal arm.
He was giving her damn preferential treatment.
And that, the pride of her beast could not take, anger flaring in her chest. "You're taking it easy on me," Caroline growled, losing her reason. She blocked left hook and latched her foot around his ankles, with intention of knocking him down.
"I would never," he grinned, literally sweeping her off her feet with a kick of his leg. Taken by surprise, she landed on her back and he followed, pinning her between his body and the mat.
The room filled with their heavy breathing, two chests moving in one rhythm. His knee moved between her thighs, her hands imprisoned in the tight grip of his over her head as he propped himself on his metal arm. They stared at each other in a fight of wills and she just couldn't stand the victorious smug smirk twisting his lips. At same same time, she was so utterly exposed and it wasn't a bad feeling at all, quite the contrary, she could already smell the arousal pooling in the apex of her thighs. All she could hope for was that Klaus' senses weren't that acute.
Or that they were and it would distract the hell out of him.
The shiver crawling along the surface of his skin told her he wasn't immune to her either and that was something Caroline was set on using to her advantage. Raising her foot, she rested it against his side and trailed it along his leg, hip and arse. His breath hitched and the grip he had on her loosened, allowing her to free her hands swiftly.
She smiled triumphally, bracketing his torso between her thighs, her fingers latching onto the leather band he wore around his neck. "Necklaces on the training session? Seems like yet another mistake after underestimating me," she mused with satisfaction, playfully tugging at them and drawing him nearer in result.
Tracing her cheek with the steel finger of his artificial arm, Klaus gifted her with the cheshire grin that highlighted his adorable dimples. "Maybe that's exactly what I wanted you to do with them?" he asked, the sparks that were surely glinting in her eyes, reflecting in his now golden irises.
Possessively, she pulled him by the necklaces in her hand, her mouth closing over his with a loud moan they shared. They rocked against each other, his hips cradled between the soft valley of her legs, her hands sinking underneath his shirt. Her dragon was awake and roaring loud, with scraping teeth and gnawing claws.
Klaus could feel every inch of her glorious body molded to his own and the wonderful heat she radiated was melting the very memory of ice from his mind. He tasted fire on her tongue that delved into his mouth and claimed dominance over the kiss. Angling her head so that he could devour her deeper, he wondered, like many times before, just what exactly Caroline was.
Who was this creature with rings of fire around the irises of her eyes and the way she set everything on her path ablaze, much like she'd done to him? He loved the possessive manner with which the fiery blonde was claiming his lips right now, her clawed fingers drawing patterns on his back - something that should probably alarmed him and yet, he was too consumed by the hot sweet swipes of her tongue to care.
Caroline had to keep her breath under control so that she wouldn't puff little flares of fire in his face. Which was close to impossible, with how he strived to push her over he edge of sanity. His hands busy with kneading the muscles of her inner thighs and skillful lips nibbling on the sensitive skin of her mouth. In the end, she just couldn't hold it in any longer, fire blazing from her whole frame. Yet, when she detached herself from him, scared to see the consequences of their passion, she registered none. Her fire didn't scorch him, even though it should.
Which could only mean one thing, she realized, as they shared a bewildered heavy-lidded look.
She had already marked him to be hers.
The annual gala for Tony Stark's foundation was an event all Avengers gathered for, none of them willing to pass on the opportunity to raid the open bar.
It was a function Caroline hadn't attended at first, her father set on protecting her from the cruel world he lived in and was devoted to change. Nevertheless, no one, even the relentless Tony Stark, could survive his daughter's unwavering attitude for long, especially since she had Pepper on her side.
Hence, right now, she was dancing with Steve, refraining heroically from wincing any time he would step on her toes.
She was already planning dance lessons in her mind for him anyway. It was perplexing, how someone so graceful and agile during combat could be simultaneously so hopeless at dancing. Finally, as the first notes of waltz resounded across the ballroom, it was her father who stood to her rescue.
"Cap," Tony nodded towards her dancing partner in acknowledgement before unceremoniously stealing her from his arms. "Take a pity and dance with your old man, darling girl," he sighed miserably, although the gleeful spark that crossed his gaze contradicted the words.
Rolling her eyes at her father's theatrics, Caroline fixed their dancing frame and fell into the rhythm of the waltz. "You know, this feigned humility doesn't suit you, dad. Like you would ever think of yourself as old," she scoffed at him.
"I truly cannot help my dashing ways," Tony mused, waltzing lively across the ballroom, other couples swiftly retreating before them. Completely disregarding the tempo of music, he twirled her around playfully, making his ferocious blonde ray of sunshine lit up in laughter.
The gesture made her think of a little girl learning to dance with her dad, standing on his feet to make herself taller, something she was deprived of by the decisions of her parents. Yet, Caroline couldn't hold her resentment for long, for when she had descended to Earth from Asgard, she hadn't only gained her father - she'd gained a whole family. And perhaps even something more, she pondered, as her eyes caught the sight of Klaus sitting by the bar with sulking Steve and Natasha.
Her attention partially shifting back to Tony, she kept casting subtle glances at metal-armed soldier while sassing back at her dad's daring statement. "When is Pepper back from her business trip anyway? Your ego passes the border of insufferable while she's away."
That remark earned her a scowl. "Have you no respect for your elders? Who on Earth taught you those manners?" he chided her but there was mirth colouring his voice that assured her he couldn't be happier with her sassy ways.
Well, she was her father's daughter, after all.
With a corner of her eye, Caroline noticed Klaus following her every move with predatory gaze, the smile curling his lips both subtle and dangerous. The dragon under her skin preened under the attention, reaction she couldn't hold back, with goosebumps covering her skin. Focusing on the conversation, she shot back with a huge grin, "Oh, you did, dad. And, you know, a bunch of arrogant Asgardian gods."
"Well, at least you'll have no problem upholding the Starks' reputation. It would be most unfortunate if you ended up a polite young lady," Tony grimaced as if the thought caused him actual pain. He noted the distracted expression on his daughter's face as well as the looks she kept sending towards the bar. He sighed when he realized it was Klaus who caught his daughter's attention, "Care, darling, I thought you had better taste. He's a dangerous man."
"I'm not a child anymore, dad. I've never really been a child. Besides, I can take care of myself, you know that," she met his concern with a stern tone.
"I know you can. But you'll always be my little girl."
"Ugh, I hate when you use that card," she huffed but grew serious when she noted the grave look in Tony's eyes. "I'll be careful, I promise," she added, squeezing his arm in reassurance.
"You can always eat him if he misbehaves," Stark cheered up at the thought. "He must have a death wish anyway because he's heading our way."
"Dad. That's not letting me take care of myself," Caroline scolded him persistently, just as Klaus approached them, a slight smirk adorning his dimpled face.
"May I have this dance, Caroline?" he asked with all the suave that he got.
And he got plenty, alright.
Letting go of her arms, Tony turned to him with a warning look and answered instead of her, "I suppose you might risk it, just remember to keep your hands to yourself or I might just cut off your other arm." With a wink at her, he strode away, pulling his phone from jacket pocket to call Pepper and inform her of this latest development.
Who was he kidding, she had probably known already.
"It appears your father doesn't like me, love," Klaus stated painfully, swinging her to the slow beat of music, her body drawn close to his in the most delicious way.
Caroline looked up at him with a crooked smile. "No kidding. How perceptive of you, it must be all that assassin training paying off," she mused before she bit her tongue. Why did she have to mention that?
A shadow crossed his darkened eyes but it seemed Klaus was determined not to spoil the rare moment they had together. "I am a man of many skills," he quipped, his brows perking up suggestively. "Dancing being one of them." Hands secured on her back, he dipped her almost to the floor, only to fling her back to his chest, their mouths inches away.
"Oh, but I am not so easily impressed, Mr. Mikaelson," she drawled, nails scratching the nape of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that she revelled in.
"Do I at least make a better impression than your teenage prom date?" he joked and to see him so mirthful for a change, in her company at that, left Caroline's dragon smug and satisfied.
"I went with Thor, actually," she couldn't help but poke his bubble of arrogance.
He literally pouted at that and Caroline couldn't stop from laughing because of the sulking expression he sported so well.
Planting a long claiming smooch on his lips, she kept giggling at his silly ways.
Hadn't he known, he had already been hers?
And dragon didn't part with her treasures.
Fury blazed through his veins.
Silas had escaped them. Escaped him. Again.
The Hydra operative had proved to be extremely resistant to murder, which was unfortunate, considering Klaus could think of nothing else. Except the gorgeous blonde fighting at his side.
In a completely unoriginal fashion, Silas had ventured outside Earth and brought the Chitauri to conquer the globe.
So far, Klaus had assessed their chances of winning to be 70 to 30, although he was only truly set on one thing - killing Silas.
With the grim thoughts filling his mind, he thrust his metal arm into the ribcage and ripped out a Chitauri's heart. Taking a look around, his heart sank with dread at the lack of Caroline by his side - she had been there almost the whole time. He signalled at Steve, who seemed uncharacteristically calm about the blonde's disappearance, and then rushed through the trashed streets of New York to find her, killing aliens on his path. There was this ominous out-of-place growling that reverberated through the air and Klaus felt compelled to follow it, as if the sound was calling to him.
Never had he been happier to see Tony Stark, the man emerging from right around the corner in his Ironman suit and flying his way. "Don't go that way, my daughter decided to get a little frisky," Tony stopped, grimacing over his words. "That sounded so wrong," he disappeared without further explanation.
Which wasn't needed anymore, as a giant freaking dragon flew right over his head, spewing fire right and left, Chitauri army scattering in panic.
Yet, Klaus couldn't resist but step closer, admiration filling his features as he took in the regal creature that possessed Caroline's vibrant eyes and her unique scent. He neared her with no fear, somehow knowing she wouldn't do a thing to harm him.
He belonged at her side.
Fascinated, Klaus watched her tear apart the spaceship, her enormous wings moving with grace and fangs cutting with lethal accuracy. It wasn't until he felt a chill ran up his spine that he sensed danger. He trembled at the overwhelming cold that still haunted him in his nightmares, the Voice he hated with all his being hitting his eardrums.
Longing.
He spun around, meeting the freezing gaze of Silas, his dark eyes glimmering with malice. His opponent was over 100 feet away and Klaus ran towards him with all his might.
Rusted.
His bones started aching and he collapsed onto the ground, his muscles trembling.
Seventeen.
No!
He thought of Steve, the kid in the back-alley always defending what was right. But the image was slipping away, slowly deteriorating into the blankness.
Daybreak.
He tried moving but it was like his body wasn't his anymore, his mind detached from all the decision-making. Bile rose in his throat, mixing with the poisonous honey of the Voice.
Furnace.
Caroline. She was so damn warm and he loved it about her. With the last drop of will, lasting in the corner of his mind that she had taken over, Klaus forced himself to crawl towards Silas, hell-bent on ending this once and for all. He thought he could hear the echo of her sweet giggles as she danced with him, the softness of her skin against his cheek. He would never be cold again.
Nine.
He screamed in agony as the memories were being ripped away from him. Stolen.
Steel. Machine. Fading laughter.
Empty.
Empty. Empty. y.
Benign. Homecoming. One. Freight car.
All he could hear was the Voice now. Good morning, soldier.
The choir singing. y.
Ready to comply. Comply. Comply. Comply!
An empty smile and hollow eyes.
Upon the Voice's orders, he headed towards the man in a red metal suit.
A menacing shiver crept over her scales, warning Caroline that something was fundamentally wrong. She chewed on a Chitauri, scrunching her nose at the vile taste when torturous screams of pure agony reverberated across her rough skin.
Klaus.
In desperate haste, she moved her wings, following her instinct to close in on his location. What she found, froze the blood rushing through her veins and it was a sensation her creature abhorred.
Klaus was fighting her father, with Silas watching nearby and even from the sky above, she could see the clear glee in his eyes. Pure hatred filled her heart and all she longed for was killing the man violently but it had to wait.
First she would need to stop her father and her man from killing each other.
With delicacy that she only had for those that were hers, Caroline closed her claws around Klaus, pulling him away from her dad. Tony looked relieved and with a nod of understanding, encouraged her to fight for what she held dear.
Caroline flew to the nearest rooftop, Klaus thrashing against her embrace. She propped his body against the concrete wall and landed before him, trapping him in a cage of her wings.
Maddening anger overtook her, at the sight of his compelled body and imprisoned mind, reflecting in the blankness of his features.
He was hers. Nobody should make him forget that. Nobody should dare to touch him.
Willing herself to focus, the dragon reached out with her mind.
Klaus stared at the creature before him both in disbelief and awe, if he even was capable of such emotions in his state. In a mindless attempt to get out, he pushed against the thin skin of her wings, the she-dragon growling at him in response. Somehow, in spite of Silas' control and the steel shadow clouding his memories, he knew it was a female and that there was something familiar about her.
Then, a raspy melodic voice, so much different than the Voice, echoed in his vacant mind.
Don't let him win, Klaus.
It was rough, but sweet, her tone wrapping him up in a warm cocoon just like her wings.
It wasn't so cold anymore, he realized.
You're mine. Don't you dare to forget that.
Hers…
The echo of her sweet giggles as she danced with him, the softness of her skin against his cheek.
Fierce eyes defying him as she lied trapped beneath his body, the wicked smile curving her lips when she titled her head to steal a kiss from him.
The same fire blazed in her eyes right now, as she was boring her ferocious steady gaze into him.
Come back to m e. Come back.
Angling her head, she nudged his jaw with her muzzle expectantly and nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder, nostrils widening in a deep breath of his scent. Lazily, Klaus reached out to pet the dragon, her back arching in pleasure at the firm touch of his rough hands. Caroline snuggled into him more and he continued to stroke her, smiling in delight at the low hum reverberating from the depth of her chest. A wave of images flooded his weary mind, a violent current that ironically, brought nothing but peace.
The battle was slowly dying down as they were resting on the concrete ground, city of New York spread before them. Klaus was cradled comfortably in the valley of her wings, dozing off, but he managed to voice the last coherent thought on his mind, "Thank you, Caroline. You brought me back."
The dragon smiled, with yellow flickering through her eyes.
Of course she did.
The dragon never parted with her treasures.
AN: Thank you for reading and I would really like to know your thoughts on this one. I know it was an unusual setting, so...? How did you like it? Please let me know :)
Till next time!
