CHAPTER SEVEN

I AM NOT OKAY

When they arrived at the Mikaelson mansion, Klaus showed her to a very large guestroom that had miraculously been prepared during their absence. Caroline was too exhausted to ask whether he had a house ghost doing these chores or simply ordered some of his Hybrids around. She barely noticed the room and told herself she would take a good look at it later. Klaus explained that his room was right across the hall and that Stefan and Elena would occupy the one to her left tonight. Damon's was to be a little further down the corridor. Caroline just nodded. She was dead on her feet, and the only thing she wanted was some sleep. Too many things had happened over the course of one morning, and there was only so much she could take. Klaus seemed to notice, for he just left after telling her he'd be downstairs. She barely managed to take off her shoes and jacket before collapsing on the bed. The last thing she noticed while drifting off to sleep was how ridiculously comfortable that damn bed was.

Silence. The smiling eyes of a young boy. Bluish-grey. An innocent face, full of untainted joy and expectation. Dimples. A contagious laugh. She smiled and reached out for him, but he drifted further away. She tried again, but he seemed to remain just out of her reach, if only by inches. 'Henrik?' she asked. He nodded, smiling at her, his eyes sparkling. All of a sudden, she started to feel cold. A shadow was passing across Henrik's features, and his face gradually turned ashen. His eyes were on hers and she could see the panic creeping into them as a hand slid over his mouth. A pair of dark eyes appeared in the blackness behind him and his eyes widened in terror. Then there was blood. It streamed from his eyes, his nose, his ears, smearing his face, flowing over the hand that was gagging him. The dark eyes behind him were filled with a sick pleasure that made her shudder with revulsion. Suddenly, the hand moved away from Henrik's face, and a single, agonized scream pierced the thick silence.

Caroline woke with a violent start, sweating and shuddering, her cry muffled by the pillow. An instant later, there was a short knock, and Klaus burst into the room. She stared up at him, still fighting to emerge from her nightmare, not yet sure where the dream ended and reality began. Instantly, he was at her side.

"Caroline. Look at me." She obeyed, still trembling. "You had a nightmare. It is gone now. You're safe, love."

"But he isn't," she whispered, still trapped in her vision.

"Who?" Klaus asked warily.

"Henrik," she barely managed to say. "He… was suffering. So much."

Klaus froze. "You… were dreaming of my brother?"

"Yes. They were the same images as this morning, only now there was a pair of dark eyes behind him. I could only see the eyes, nothing else. And a hand over his mouth. But I'm not sure if this was a normal dream, Klaus. It felt more like someone was manipulating it." Her thoughts were clearing and the haze seemed to lighten. She felt that she was slowly returning to the present. She looked at Klaus. He was as pale as he had been this morning while drawing Henrik's face. Unthinkingly, she reached out to put a hand on his arm. It was the first time she had ever touched him of her own accord.

"Klaus. Are you okay?" He looked down at her hand. At first, she thought he would push it away, but he covered it with his for an instant and gave her a faint smile before getting up.

"Of course. It seems our newest enemy of the state is quite the illusionist. We might need the help of that witchy friend of yours in the near future. If there is a way into your head, there will also be a method of blocking that path."

Caroline frowned. "Bonnie? I have no idea where to find her. You know she left town right after putting you back in your body, and I haven't heard from her since."

"No worries, love. I made it my business to know where to find Miss Bennett if need arises, which might in fact be now." His voice softened. "Are you all right, Caroline?" She nodded half-heartedly. "Will you be resting some more then?"

"No, I… think I'm fine." She didn't want to admit that she was actually scared of falling asleep again.

"If you like, you can join me in the study. Blood bag?" he asked with a smile.

"That would be great. I'll just freshen up a bit and will be right down."

He nodded and left. It took her a few more minutes to finally shake off the aftermath of her nightmare; it seemed crazy, but she was glad that Klaus had been there when she woke. His mere presence had been soothing, even though he had – again – been so deeply affected at the mention of his little brother. Well, maybe she could ask Elijah about that once he was back. There had to be more to this, and Klaus was very obviously not willing to talk about it.

To get a more solid grip on reality, Caroline gazed around the room, taking in everything she had missed earlier on. There was a large wooden desk, a cozy sitting area and floor-length windows leading to the vast gardens. Not to mention the gigantic flat screen. Plush cream-coloured carpets covered the floor. The entire room breathed elegance and taste. At least you won't be uncomfortable during your preventive custody. She hopped off the bed and started to unpack her bags, neatly hanging her clothes in the wooden closet. Grabbing her bag of toiletries, she ventured into the en suite bathroom. Wow. This was really something, she had to give it to Klaus. It was all white marble and dark woods, with a large bathtub and a separate rain shower. When turning on the mirror lighting, she started to laugh incredulously as a TV jumped to life within the mirror. Seriously? Still giggling, she went to try out the lavish shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she strolled into the study. Klaus was standing next to the window, slowly twirling a glass filled with some golden liquid. He didn't turn around when she approached him, but silently motioned with his glass towards a small coffee table where a blood bag and a couple of empty glasses were laid out. Caroline glanced at the bag. B positive. What else. She emptied half of the contents into a glass and moved to join him at the window. Sipping the blood, she closed her eyes and finally felt some life starting to flow back into her system.

"You're not feeding often enough," he noted. Caroline sighed.

"I know. But with everything that's going on, I just… tend to forget."

Klaus shook his head at her, raising his eyebrows. "You are definitely the only vampire in history who is able to forget about feeding."

"You don't seem too desperate for blood either. You didn't so much as look at my glass."

He chuckled softly. "Ah well, sweetheart, I am an Original. We do not require to feed as often as your average vampire. Present company excluded, as not average." She felt a faint blush colour her cheeks. "And I am usually very discreet about my feeding habits. You don't reach the blessed age of a thousand years if you are unable to exercise a certain amount of restraint."

"Which you have perfected."

"I do not want to appear immodest, but yes, I can say I have."

"So nothing could ever shake your self-control?"

His face split into a wide and somewhat lewd grin as he turned to her fully and locked his eyes with hers. "Well, love, I wouldn't go that far," he teased with a wink.

Subject change. Stat. She sipped her blood and let her eyes wander around the study. There were books on every wall, from floor to ceiling. Some of them seemed to be very old, judging by their bindings, and Caroline hoped to have an opportunity to take a closer look while she was confined to the house. Klaus noticed her interest and gestured towards the book shelves.

"Please feel free to borrow whichever book engages your interest. I will be more than happy to point you in the right direction if you are looking for anything in particular."

"Some of these books seem to be very old, and you probably can't really carry them around with you all the time. What do you do with them when you're on the move?" Caroline asked, intrigued.

"Well, most of the time, they are being stored in one of our properties around the world, and whenever we settle down somewhere for any length of time, we have them shipped to the place in question. None of us like to be without them for too long. So is there anything you would like to take a look at?"

Caroline thought about it for a moment, then she asked, "Do you have anything on Thomas Cromwell by any chance?" Klaus looked at her appraisingly. "Most people would have asked about Henry – but then you are not most people, are you?" He smiled. "As a matter of fact, I have a couple of books on him – not to mention some writings by him, but we'll leave those for another day." Setting down his glass, he walked towards the far end of the study, to a shelf that seemed to hold some more modern books. After a quick glance, he pulled out two volumes and carried them to her. "This one," he held the book out to her, "is a work of fiction but surprisingly accurate nonetheless, with the added bonus of being highly entertaining. The author is British, and I think it is one of the finest books I have read in years." Caroline took it and looked at the title. 'Wolf Hall'. How fitting. "If, however, you prefer strictly non-fictional material, I would recommend this one by Robert Hutchinson. It is a rather compelling biography, and it does not deviate too much from reality. Maybe you should just start reading a couple of pages from each book and then decide which one draws you in the most."

Caroline took both books from him and settled on the nearest couch. "So… did you know him then?" she asked, trying to somehow wrap her head around the fact that Klaus had probably witnessed very many of the historical events that had unfolded over the last thousand years in person. It had never really dawned on her just how many things he must have seen during his very long life.

"I did indeed. He was a very interesting man. Exceptionally intelligent, with a very strategic mindset and a rather modern take on many things. You could say he was way ahead of his time. You have to keep in mind that it was a very turbulent era in England. The king had absolute power, and just the wrong word, the wrong expression on your face could make you lose your head, and I mean that quite literally. It was a great feat for a blacksmith's son like Thomas Cromwell to have risen to such a singular position of power and to have kept it for any length of time. It turned out to be a cruel twist of fate that he was executed for treason. For all I know, he was the only man at Henry's court who was actually truly loyal to the king."

Caroline was really intrigued now. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but she would read the books first. It would be fascinating to see where they were and weren't accurate. But she wanted to keep Klaus talking, it took her mind off things and apart from being utterly interesting, she found it very relaxing. As long as he kept the conversation to neutral topics.

"So would he be the person you admired the most during that very long life of yours?" she asked with a small smirk. Klaus smiled and raised an eyebrow. "You make me feel truly old, sweetheart," he said with mock chagrin, grabbing his drink and dropping onto the couch opposite her.

"All right, an interesting question. My first reaction would be to say that the people I admired the most were predominantly nameless. Soldiers who fearlessly faced a superior enemy on the battlefield, knowing perfectly well they would not live to see another sunrise. Men and women who fought to their very last breath to defend their families and died for their loved ones. Those were the ones I admired immensely, and I do to this day. But let's move on to personalities you would actually find in a history book. Thomas Cromwell was an interesting man, but I would not name him as one of the people I admired the most." He set down his glass and brought his fingers together, a pensive expression on his face. Caroline watched him silently. She liked this side of him. He had seen so much, known so many historical personalities, but he never sounded smug or condescending when he spoke of it, and he was seriously pondering her question. She took another swig of blood and waited patiently. After a moment of consideration, he spoke again.

"Offhand, I would single out two persons. I am quite sure Elijah would heartily disagree with me on those two," he chuckled. "The first one was Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand. Have you heard of him?"

Caroline racked her brain. She had always loved history, not that anyone knew about that. She was a cheerleader, for crying out loud. What would that do to her reputation? Concentrating, she let the name flow through her head and tried to make the connection. Klaus waited quietly, giving her time, sipping his drink. Then her eyes lit up.

"Napoleon!" she exclaimed. "Wasn't he one of Napoleon's politicians?"

"I'm impressed, Miss Forbes," Klaus replied, inclining his head and raising his glass to her. "That wasn't an easy one." Caroline flushed with pleasure. Not that she cared about what he thought. Um-hm. "He served many rulers, but he is mainly remembered for being Napoleon's foreign minister and chief diplomat. As you may have noticed, intelligence is one of the things I admire the most, and he had it in abundance. But there were many intelligent men throughout history. What made Talleyrand so unique was his uncanny talent for pulling everyone's strings. He was the best diplomat I have ever encountered, and the workings of his cunning mind were fascinating. He was extremely educated, a remarkable gourmet and very fond of women. I can safely say that the conversations I had with him were amongst the most inspiring of my life."

"So why would Elijah disagree with you on that?"

"Elijah appreciated Talleyrand's education and wit as much as I did. He did not, however, agree with his politics and his intrigues behind the scenes of the European courts. Elijah despised Napoleon, at least in the later years, and he always felt Talleyrand was putting his talents at the services of the wrong master. We had quite a few disagreements on that particular topic, especially in view of the fact that Talleyrand's feelings towards Napoleon were rather ambiguous. It is blatantly obvious, I believe, that I do enjoy mind games, and Talleyrand was a master in that field. For a very short while, I actually even considered turning him, but…" he trailed off.

"But you felt that he could become too dangerous an adversary," Caroline said matter-of-factly.

Klaus' lips twitched. "And again, the lovely Miss Forbes hit the nail on the head. That was my motivation exactly," he confirmed, casting an appreciative glance at her. "One has to be very careful in the selection of one's enemies."

"You don't say," Caroline replied pointedly, which earned her a chuckle. "So who was the other man you admired the most?" she asked curiously.

"Ah, but it was not a man, it was actually a woman." Oh. Wow. She must have been really good in bed if she is one of the two people he admires the most. Bothering you, is it? Oh, leave me alone!

"Why do I have the distinct feeling that your mind is just a little bit in the gutter right now, love?" he snickered. Busted. Caroline blushed violently. "Where else would it be? We're talking about you after all!" she snapped, trying to disguise her embarrassment.

"Which means that whenever we're talking about me, your mind wanders to the gutter? I can't really find that bothersome, sweetheart, and I think we should touch on that topic with far more frequency," he chuckled, genuinely amused now. Caroline rolled her eyes, pulling another chuckle from him.

"All right, all right. No, my admiration for the woman in question had actually nothing to do with sex. Well, mostly not," he added with a mischievous gleam in his eyes that made her snort. "I am talking about Catherine the Great." Caroline stared at him incredulously.

"You knew Catherine the Great?"

"Indeed I did. She was exceptional in almost every way. I have never met a woman with that kind of determination and focus. She was brought to Russia from Germany in order to marry the future tsar, a young, naïve girl who knew nothing of the world, of politics, of anything. Between her retarded husband, her powerful aunt-in-law who ruled the country at that time, and the scheming courtiers, she had to go through a very hard school during her first years in Russia. It shaped her. She was a quick learner with a keen mind, and she made a point of becoming a true Russian and secure the loyalty of those who really counted at the time – the military. Her rise to power – by overthrowing her husband – was brilliantly schemed and ruthlessly executed. She managed to hold on to that power for thirty-four years. An utterly amazing woman." Caroline could hear admiration and even awe clear in his voice, and she didn't want to think about why she disliked that so much.

"Did she really have that many lovers?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice.

"Most of the history books exaggerate. She was by no means chaste, that much is true, but it weren't hundreds of lovers like popular culture suggests."

Caroline cleared her throat. "Were you one of them?"

"Yes."

Her eyes widened. "You are saying that you made love… to frigging Catherine the Great?" she shrieked, fascinated and appalled at the same time.

"No. I did not make love to her. I slept with her. There's a huge difference. There were only two men Catherine had ever allowed to become so close to her that what they did could actually be called lovemaking. Grigorij Orlov, who was instrumental in her rise to power, and Grigorij Potjomkin, the love of her life. Everyone else merely served as a distraction."

"That's not very flattering for you, is it?" she remarked with a sneer.

"I understood her. She reminded me of myself in many respects, and we had quite a few things in common. I was as much a distraction for her as she was for me. There was nothing flattering or unflattering about it. It was an arrangement, and it worked well for both parties."

Caroline shook her head. She would never understand that kind of arrangement. How could people have sex for any length of time without any emotional involvement? Well, whenever need arose, she could always ask Klaus. He seemed to be an expert on the subject.

"So… any other famous conquests?" she wanted to know. Or did she? Too late.

"A few."

She waited expectantly, but he just smiled and took another sip of his drink.

"Oh come on! You aren't going to tell me? I thought men got a charge out of things like that," she pressed.

"I don't consider bedding a woman an achievement to boast about. It is something to be privately enjoyed and then confined to memory." There was a knowing smile on his face that made her uncomfortable.

"And that's all there is to it?"

He watched her closely while putting his glass down and leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees. She squirmed under his intense gaze.

"What else should there be, Caroline?"

"More than just quick enjoyment and a faint memory, that much is for sure."

His gaze became ever more searing. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything. Caroline became increasingly nervous under his burning eyes, but she held her ground and didn't speak. How on Earth had she maneuvered herself into a conversation about love and sex with him?

The doorbell rang, announcing the support troops. Saved by the bell. Klaus got up, his eyes never leaving hers. "I am looking forward to continuing this conversation some other time, love," he murmured, a wicked smile spreading on this face as he left to get the door.

That makes one of us.

The evening was surprisingly uneventful and even enjoyable. Stefan looked distinctly uncomfortable, but did not go out of his way to be unfriendly to Klaus. After a lavish dinner that seemed to appear out of nowhere and was served by two silent men Klaus had apparently hired, Stefan went over to the bookshelves in the study, after some perusing chose a thick volume by Schopenhauer and settled near the fireplace. Damon rolled his eyes, making a snide comment on how Stefan should probably read something to cheer him up rather than digging deeper into the writings of a man who had said things like 'There is no doubt that life is given us not to be enjoyed, but to be overcome; to be got over'. Stefan just gave his brother a dirty look and delved into the book.

After reciting the contents of the various crystal carafes to Damon, Klaus grabbed a drink and excused himself, leaving the friends to themselves. Seemingly intent on distracting Caroline from Tyler, Klaus and impending doom, Elena pulled her into a conversation about school, the latest celebrity gossip, upcoming movies and some TV shows she had been watching, spending so much time inside lately. They ended up having a heated debate on how Sherlock had faked his suicide, which was when Damon finally emerged from his glass and joined the conversation, dishing out some ludicrous theories of his own, making them laugh and try to outdo each other as to who would come up with the most outlandish scenario.

Over all the chatter, Caroline found herself straining her ears to make out what Klaus was doing, but she couldn't hear a thing. Only when they started considering calling it a night did he reappear in the doorway. Damon decided to stay in the study, only having managed to drink his way through half of the carafes so far and clearly aspiring to cause as much damage to Klaus' Single Malt supplies as superhumanly possible. The other three silently followed Klaus upstairs, where he showed Elena and Stefan to their room. After Elena had made sure their room was right next to Caroline's, she hugged her and disappeared into the guest room, followed by Stefan who gave Caroline a warm smile before closing the door.

Caroline walked the few steps to her own room, acutely aware of Klaus following her. When she reached for the door handle, he softly asked, "Will you be all right, Caroline?"

Turning around, she had to swallow at the concern in his eyes. "I'll be fine. Thanks for… letting them stay over, Klaus," she murmured.

"Goes without saying." He smiled and then handed her a small sachet. "These are spelled herbs," he explained at Caroline's questioning look. "Boreal wormwood and lavender. They will not be able to keep the warlock from manipulating your dreams – we need some more intense magic for that – but they will take off the edge and make the visions less painful. Keep the sachet next to your head on the pillow."

"Where did you get these?" she wondered. Then again, he was Klaus – he had probably managed to spell them himself.

"I happen to have a few useful things lying around. You need to get some rest, and until your friend Bonnie is back in town, which could be another few days, this will help at least a little bit."

"Thank you," she said quietly, lowering her eyes, not wanting to let him see how much she really dreaded going back to sleep. But, as usual, he did see. Taking her hand, he brought it up to his lips, as always without touching them to her skin.

"Don't let fear get the better of you, love. Once it does, it is very hard to get rid of again."

Caroline looked up at him, surprised. "Has that… ever happened to you?"

He lowered her hand, but didn't let it go for another instant. The ghost of a smile crossed his handsome features. What has handsome to do with anything right now? "I had better head back to the study before Damon finds the hidden supplies of the really expensive stuff." He brought his face a few inches closer to hers, and she had the strange feeling that her non-beating heart had just missed a beat. "Get some rest, sweetheart." With that, he turned and left. Caroline stared after him, a little short of breath. Which had nothing to do with him. Of course not.

With a shaky sigh, she entered her room and got ready for bed. After brief deliberation, she decided to start reading Wolf Hall. The book captured her immediately, and it was not until she heard a single uttered sentence from the room next door that she looked up again.

"I am not having sex with you in his house, Elena!"

Caroline's eyes widened. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from going into a round of giggles, but she failed miserably. Hiding her face in the pillow, she desperately tried not to listen to the heated conversation that followed.

Get some rest? You've gotta be kidding me.

When Klaus arrived downstairs, Damon was standing in front of a shelf of works on philosophy, drink in hand.

"Trying to find an answer to the question as to why we are all here?" Klaus asked with a slight sneer, stepping up to the carafes, inspecting the leftovers and pouring himself a glass of Zyr vodka. He supposed the earlier conversation about Catherine was partly to blame for his choice, as vodka wasn't his usual drink. Mystic Falls was apparently messing with his drinking habits, as he normally preferred wine and champagne to spirits. Damon was still scanning the rows of books.

"No need. Most of us are here for no reason at all, and you are here to make our lives miserable," he replied evenly. "Isn't there a philosopher who wrote something slightly positive about the world we live in? I think I will need to convince my baby brother to read some more cheerful stuff. His brooding's getting worse by the day, and it's starting to be contagious."

"Try Leibniz," Klaus replied absently, looking out of the window. Then he froze. He felt some shift in the atmosphere, a strange kind of energy seemed to be vibrating in the air, apparently originating from the far edge of the gardens. Would that bloody warlock actually be crazy enough to come anywhere near the house? He abruptly set down his glass. "I will make a quick round of the grounds. Join me?"

Damon cast an astonished look over his shoulder. "This is becoming a bit of a bad habit, Caligula. But since there is nothing better to do and I'm not nearly drunk enough to pass out… why not."

They quietly left the house, making their way through the vast grounds in complete silence. Klaus let his senses roam the surroundings. All of a sudden, he started to feel a light pressure within his head. It didn't hurt, it was not even uncomfortable, it was simply there. At the very same moment, Damon dropped to his knees, holding his head and letting an agonized almost-scream escape him. Klaus' eyes narrowed. That bastard was indeed here. Leaving Damon where he was, he systematically started searching the nearby woods, running a wide perimeter at first, then gradually closing in. When the strange vibration in the air increased as he passed a small clearing, he paused. Invisibility spell? Very possible. He decided to stop playing hide-and-seek and looked around, relaxing his stance, straightening up to his full height.

"Why don't you show yourself, warlock? Afraid to face me, are you? You know your pathetic little headaches will no longer work on me ever since the curse was broken, so you prefer to stay hidden in the fog of magic. Whilst I fully gather your motivation – namely cowardice – I do admit to being the slightest bit disappointed that a warlock as great as you seem to believe yourself to be is too pusillanimous to hold his own when meeting me in the flesh."

A cackling sound came from… where? It was all around him, so that he could not make out its exact provenance. "Oh, we have met in the flesh, Niklaus Mikaelson, and I assure you I more than stood my ground during that particular occasion."

Klaus' blood froze in his veins. That voice. That disgusting, nauseating, high-pitched voice he would never forget, even if he lived another hundred thousand years. No. It was simply not possible.

"Surprised, are you?" the voice sneered.

"Prelati. You are dead. You died, together with that depravity you used to serve. You were burned at the stake, six hundred years ago."

"May I remind you that your mother, too, managed to come back from the other side? It takes some extraordinary circumstances and helping hands on both sides to accomplish that feat, as you well know, but here I am. Very much alive, if I may add. And I do take offense in your calling the Baron de Rais a depravity. He was a visionary, albeit not a very bright one, I do give you that."

The dungeon inside his mind cracked open with an almost audible bang. It nearly made him double over. If there had ever been a time Klaus needed to put on a truly stellar performance, it was now. Mustering up all the strength he had accumulated during his centuries of war and cunning, he completely disguised the nausea that came over him in the face of someone who had been part of the worst nightmare he had had to endure in a thousand years. His face split into a wolfish grin, but he refrained from turning. It would have been cheap showmanship, and that was beneath him even in a moment like this.

"Well now, is this not a happy occasion! It will be my utter pleasure, warlock, to end your life in person this time," he almost purred. "And please rest assured that I will take my time. If memory serves, the Spanish Inquisition – which you regretfully missed – gave birth to some very creative methods of inflicting pain on the truly deserving. Combined with modern life-prolonging measures, I shall be able to pride myself on extending your voyage from life to death to unprecedented lengths."

There was a long silence. The pressure in his head subsided, and in the distance, Klaus could hear a faint moan of relief from Damon.

Then the warlock spoke again. His voice was still eerie, but Klaus detected a minimal strain. Good. "You have no idea who you are up against, Hybrid. Last time will seem like a walk in the park compared to what is awaiting you."

Last time. Klaus suppressed the urge to run amok against his invisible fiend, his emotions boiling up inside him like a geyser. But he kept his nonchalant façade, knowing it was what would unsettle the warlock the most. He could never let him see how deeply he was affected by those two little words. Last time. "Let bygones be bygones, warlock. It has been a long time, and my memory is sketchy. Let us focus on the present and your lamentably very short-lived future," he snickered, one corner of his mouth pulled up in a cruel grin.

Again, there was a slight edge to the squeaky voice. "Your cockiness has served you ill before."

"Ah, but now I am older and wiser," Klaus said in a low, menacing tone. Another silence. He focused all of his senses - and there it was. An almost indiscernible hint of subdued breathing to his right. He concentrated solely on that one sound, assessing its position and level. It came from about 60 feet away, somewhat below his own head. Without further ado, he flashed. His hand touched a piece of fabric, but it slipped through his fingers. Damn! This had been his one opportunity, as now the warlock was prepared and would be moving around. Miscalculation – the root of all failure.

"You are good, Hybrid. And very fast. I will have to give you that. It shall be a great pleasure to watch that brilliant mind of yours fall apart."

Klaus had the distinct feeling that the warlock was not certain what to make of him. It was rather evident in the man's voice that he had expected another kind of reaction entirely and was now unsecure how to proceed. It might just have bought him some time to work out a way to take down that scum and to protect his family. And… Caroline. He immediately banned her from his thoughts. He needed to focus. With an almost indifferent voice, he spoke into thin air.

"Failure is a much better teacher than success. I never fail twice, Prelati."

"I have very powerful allies in this world, Hybrid. And in the other. You are being hated by a great many who would trade their souls to see you destroyed." He paused again. "But enough of that. I will leave you for now. Please do not fail to give my best to the lovely Miss Forbes, boy." Klaus stared into the empty space, not quite sure he had heard the last word correctly. Then there was another sudden change within the atmosphere. The warlock was gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Damon demanded as soon as he caught sight of Klaus emerging from the woods. "And why was I the only one getting his head massacred?"

"I'm an Original and a Hybrid, mate. Things don't usually have the same effect on me than they have on an everyday vampire like you." Damon snorted, but otherwise let it pass.

"That was different from what the little witchy things usually do."

"That's what Caroline said, too. I am not sure what that means, but I fully intend to find out."

"So did you bury him right there and then, or what took you so long?"

"Invisibility spell. I couldn't see so much as a shadow. No way to take him down."

"My, my, Big Bad. Getting sloppy, are we?" Damon snickered, never one to miss an opportunity to provoke him. Klaus just rolled his eyes. He needed to be alone. His façade was still up, but now the dungeon was open and memories flooded his mind. He had to close it down again, and that could only be achieved once he was by himself and could focus on sealing the dark pit again. He had practiced this over such a long time that it was almost an automatism by now, but this time was different. It felt like a gashing open wound, with blood gurgling out of it in spouts, and it was tearing at him stronger than it ever had since… last time.

"Let's get back to the house. I do not think he is planning on coming back tonight."

"So what is this all about, Klaus? Did you eat his firstborn, or why is he so pissed at you? I mean, not that I blame him," Damon said, eyebrow raised.

Klaus managed to put on a small smile. "If I started to mull over the reasons why everyone I ever met actually hates me, I would be very busy indeed."

"But you know the guy."

"We have met before."

Damon gave an exasperated sigh. "You are not going to tell me anything, are you?"

"There are some things I need to figure out first. I will have to speak to Elijah tomorrow, and there is some research to be done. It won't do anyone any good if I started circulating half-baked theories."

"That guy tortured Caroline and gave me the most unimaginably painful headache in history. So you should really start to share, J. Edgar, because you are not the only one involved here," Damon growled, starting to sound seriously upset.

"In time," Klaus replied in the final tone he usually reserved for his younger siblings. "There is nothing I can tell you right now that would be of any help to anyone. I will fill you in when I see fit."

Damon hissed. "You are getting on my nerves with this Illuminati secrecy crap!"

"Careful, Damon."

When they returned to the house, Damon went straight back to the study, more set than ever to drink his way through the most expensive of Klaus' supplies. The Original walked up the stairs, desperate for the solitude of his room. When he had almost reached it, he noticed Caroline's door open a small fraction. Not now, he thought. He was not sure for how much longer his façade would hold up, and she was the last person he wanted to see him weak and vulnerable.

She stood in the doorframe now, gazing at him questioningly. A small portion of his brain still registered just how beautiful she looked, with no makeup, wearing white pajama pants with a blue tank top that hugged her figure perfectly. But he could also see the wariness in her lovely face. Realization hit him then – she was relying on him to keep her safe, however much she may abhor the thought. And he had not yet figured out how to do that. He felt himself starting to crack, something she couldn't be allowed to see.

"Go to sleep," he hissed at her sharply, hoping to upset her enough so she would just turn on her heels and head back to her room. He should have known she wasn't that easily put off. She just nodded, her face unwaveringly serene.

"I saw you leaving the house, and I felt something strange in the air. Is he… here?"

Klaus nodded curtly. "He was. But he is gone now, so you should be able to sleep unperturbed tonight."

"What happened, Klaus?"

He looked at her impatiently. "Nothing of significance. There are a couple of things I need to consider, and I would appreciate it if you just let me do that," he replied, intentionally harsh. Then he saw a strange look cross her face.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay," she murmured softly, turning around and disappearing into her room. Klaus stared at the closed door, unseeing. She wanted to know if he was okay? It was the first time anyone had cared about that in centuries, and it frightened him. If she could disarm him like this with such a simple question, how would he ever be able to be who he needed to be in order to keep her and his family safe? Silently, he entered his own room, locking the door and leaning against it. His eyes dropped to the floor, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he was in for a rough night.

No, Caroline. I am not okay.