A/N: Wow guys, I have to say you all are amazing for reading and reviewing the last chapter. Chapter 10 got 75 reviews all on its own! That's crazy. I guess it disproves my theory that long chapters discourage you.
With that said, I know you're probably looking at this chapter, thinking, 'um, you took this long to update and this is all you have?' I promise it isn't. Originally I expected this chapter to only be 5,000 words or less. I didn't think I'd have enough content. It turns out, Chapter 11 turned into a behemoth chapter of 17,000 words and counting, so, I decided to split it up to give you something to tie you over until I can post the second part. The second part should be coming in the next couple of days. I'm just finishing it up and then it will be sent to my amazing beta - livingdeadblondegirl - to review.
In the meantime, I hope this will suffice. Not everything that I previewed in the last chapter will be in this part, but I think you'll enjoy it, nonetheless.
Please let me know what you think!
He sighed as he walked reluctantly to the car with his luggage. Though he and Caroline had seemingly resolved their issues, he felt something pulling him back.
Placing his luggage in the trunk, he glanced at the back of the house briefly, noticing Caroline peering out the French doors.
As much as he knew he needed to settle matters in New York, there was a part of him desperately inclined to stay behind for reasons, he sensed, that went beyond a guilty conscience.
Kol and Bonnie were quiet in the car when he climbed in the backseat. They were eyeing him expectantly - especially Bonnie.
He could almost feel her eyes literally stabbing him into a million pieces.
It was her protective concern over Caroline, he knew. He could understand it. Bonnie was just looking out for her.
"So is this going to be a roundtrip or a one-way trip?" Kol asked as they set out for the airport, posing the question that he knew both him and Bonnie were eager to know the answer to.
Of course, they knew before Caroline did that he fully intended to return; he told them after he made plans with Marcel.
However, Bonnie was quick to point out then that Caroline could very well decide that his return was not something she would necessarily welcome. He got the impression that was outcome Bonnie was hoping for.
Apparently, the two of them had eavesdropped on his entire confrontation with Caroline, and while Kol had lent him some support, arguing that Caroline should have let him speak, Bonnie's uncomfortable silence signalled to him that she was firmly on team Caroline. He supposed he couldn't blame her or hold it against her.
"It's going to be a roundtrip," he informed them as they drove out of Mystic Falls.
He gauged a look of relief from Bonnie's side profile and he swore he could have heard a drawn out breath leave her lips. Perhaps he had made the wrong assumption about her.
Kol seemed shockingly amused.
"Is she still pissed though?" Kol wondered.
"She was, when she first thought I was leaving for good," he explained, "but after I told her why I had to go back, she seemed to understand."
"So she's okay?" Bonnie piped up clearly concerned about the state he had left her best friend in.
He nodded.
"She's fine," he replied.
"You guys are fine?" Kol inquired further.
"Yeah...I think we are," he answered feeling content that he had been able to leave on good terms with her.
Although, he wasn't exactly sure what the nature of those good terms were. At least he was conflicted about what he wanted them to entail.
He wondered if the goose bumps he noticed on Caroline's arms when he touched her meant that she was conflicted, too.
As quickly as the thought came, it went. He was reading too much into her reaction and her seemingly self-conscious effort to pull away from him after she had noticed it.
He was treading a fine line as it was. He wasn't even going to attempt to cross it now.
Thinking about it; thinking about her like that was bad enough.
He promised her he wouldn't screw this up.
They were going to make this work with Grayson. They could be co-parents, and hopefully friends. It would certainly make things easier than being at one another's throats all the time.
Now, more than ever, he wanted to prove to himself, to her, and everyone else that he could do this.
After he settled things in New York, they would just need to get into a routine; one that he could follow without overstepping any boundaries that would get him into trouble and call his commitment into question again.
By the time their flight landed in New York, it was well after dinner.
Caroline would have already put Grayson to bed, unless of course he was still putting up a fight, which he had done all afternoon while she was out.
They grabbed food at the airport with Kol while he waited for his connecting flight back to London.
He probably just would have left the airport then and headed to his apartment, but Kol had made the horrific suggestion that he and Bonnie split on a cab.
While it was a welcomed idea from an economic standpoint, he really didn't feel like being trapped in a cab with someone who didn't seem particularly fond of him.
He wasn't about to refuse though and make things even more awkward.
"I should probably think about heading to the gate," Kol announced after they had finished their greasy fast food meal.
It dawned on him then that he hadn't attempted a run or been to the gym in nearly a week.
Bonnie let out an audible sigh clearly displeased about his brother's departure back to London.
The three of them stood from the table.
"Behave yourself, mate," Kol said with a subtle warning tone as they gave each other a brotherly hug.
Finn aside, it was beginning to sink in more and more that Kol was the only brother he had left.
"I will," he assured Kol.
"Look out for Grayson...and Caroline," Kol added.
He nodded.
Kol seemed satisfied with his reassurances.
"Have a safe flight. Give me a text when you're home. Perhaps I'll see you in the summer?" he suggested, quickly recalling Kol's planned return to New York.
"Hopefully Bonnie and I can make it out to Mystic Falls. Or you, Caroline, and Grayson could come to New York?" Kol proposed.
"We'll figure something out," he concluded. "I'll let you two say your goodbyes," he said to Kol and Bonnie.
Bonnie looked at him appreciatively.
"I'll meet you at the main terminal exit," he told Bonnie, eager for a cigarette.
"Okay," Bonnie agreed.
"Second hand smoke is a killer," he heard Bonnie say from behind him as he took a drag from his cigarette.
Knowing exactly the point she was trying to drive home, he frowned guiltily. With his craving for nicotine suddenly diminished, he put the cigarette out in a nearby dispenser.
She looked satisfied with his response when he turned around to face her.
He was about to mention Kol as a neutral topic of conversation, but he faltered when he noticed her watery eyes. She had been crying.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
She nodded reluctantly and he extended his hand to hail them one of the circling taxis.
He put both of their bags in the trunk and got in the back beside her.
Being that he lived in Brooklyn and she in Manhattan, he would be dropped off first.
They were both quiet.
He felt awkward.
Though they both lived in New York and she was dating his brother, he didn't have much of a relationship with Bonnie.
The last time he had seen her was in the summer when Kol visited New York for a week.
In every case, Kol had been present and their conversation was mostly confined to casual small talk. He got the impression, even then, that she wasn't his biggest fan.
Now that they were alone, he wasn't sure what to say.
He considered asking about Kol's extended upcoming stay for the summer, but he wasn't sure if it would just make her more upset, and in turn, make her dislike him more.
"When do you plan to go back to Mystic Falls?" Bonnie questioned; an inquisitive attempt to combat the piercing silence.
"Friday morning before the trial," he informed her.
Bonnie glared at him uncertainly.
"The hearing isn't until the afternoon," he reassured her. "I'm on a flight back to Virginia at six in the morning," he grumbled in minor protest.
That return flight had been the only one available to him for the airport closest to Mystic Falls. He was most definitely not a morning person, but he had no choice.
The fact that he had even booked a return flight to Virginia seemed to appease Bonnie's concerns.
"Is your return for real?" Bonnie asked him questioningly.
He arched a confused eyebrow in her direction.
"I booked the flight," he emphasized.
"No, I mean, is your return real as in that when you come back you're going to really be there for Grayson and Caroline?" Bonnie probed.
"It's real," he confirmed.
Bonnie eyed him suspiciously.
"I want to make this work," he reiterated, hoping to convince Bonnie of his intentions.
"Well in order for it to work, you need to take the initiative to be involved with Grayson's care. He's not going to wait for you. He's growing every day. He needs someone to look up to," Bonnie explained.
Admittedly, the prospect of being the person Grayson looked up to in life was intimidating, but he didn't want that to be anyone else but him.
"I know," he said. "I want to be involved. I want to be that person for Grayson," he told her.
Bonnie nodded cautiously.
"And you need to be respectful of Caroline. You're both Grayson's primary caregivers, not just her. You need to help each other...look out for one another," Bonnie urged. "Caroline is nice to a fault; trusting too easily, always willing to see the good in people and give them second chances. Don't take advantage of that," she warned, "too many men already have: her father, Tyler," Bonnie listed, "you," she said, glaring accusingly at him. "She doesn't need to be let down by you a second time."
He suddenly got the impression that Bonnie's anger towards him with respect to his treatment of Caroline went beyond this past weekend.
Mention of Caroline's father also intrigued him.
"Don't be the rule, be the exception for her. Prove to her that you deserve her trust; that she can depend on you to be there for her. That's how you'll make things work with her," Bonnie told him.
She glared at him intensely, as though to emphasize her words contained more than just their straightforward meaning.
He agreed passively, unsure of how to respond to Bonnie's stern advice.
They continued the rest of the cab ride in relative silence until they pulled up in front of his five-storey Williamsburg apartment building
"You're really only a subway ride away. I'm on the Lower East Side," Bonnie observed casually, as he began to dig through his wallet for his portion of the fare. "Maybe you should bring Caroline and Grayson here in the summer when Kol comes back?" Bonnie suggested receptively. "I'm sure Caroline would love to visit the city."
He nodded.
"Kol just needs to give me some dates," he said, handing Bonnie his fare money.
He opened the door.
"Listen, Klaus, I know it doesn't seem like it, but I really do want this to work for the three of you. I just don't want to see Grayson or Caroline get hurt," Bonnie admitted.
"I know," he said understandingly, putting one foot out onto the wet pavement.
"Take care of them for me," Bonnie instructed him as he climbed out of the cab.
"I will," he assured her.
He grabbed his luggage from the trunk and headed for the door up to his apartment.
"Klaus?" Bonnie called from the open car window.
He glanced over his shoulder curiously.
"Caroline's favourite food is Mexican or Italian," Bonnie hinted with a reassuring smile, waving at him as the cab proceeded to move.
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the cab pulled away.
He checked his mailbox before he opted to take the stairs to his third floor apartment.
Unlocking the door and stepping inside, he dropped his suitcase in the small hall.
The bathroom light was still on from when he had hastily packed his bag to leave for the airport just a few days ago; when he still thought there was a chance his brother would survive.
He shut the light off before stepping back out into the hall and removing his shoes.
Being back, he wondered how he managed to live in such a cramped space. Elijah and Elena's was a sprawling estate compared to what he lived in here. The square footage of his apartment was probably less than Elijah and Elena's main floor.
Though for New York, his one-bedroom apartment was a rare find: boasting a suitable location, reasonable rent, and a modernized appearance.
He had to sacrifice living in Manhattan for it, but Brooklyn wasn't bad. It enabled him a decent living space and afforded him the opportunity to lease a postage stamp in Chelsea, for the studio and gallery that he shared with Marcel.
Throwing his mail and keys down at the dining room table, which was already littered with half-complete sketches and old mail, he removed his coat and then went for the fridge.
He was sure there was probably some rotting food in there that would need to be discarded, but he was also certain he had a few beers tucked away, and after the day he had and the hangover he was still trying to recover from, he was in desperate need of a drink to unwind.
With the beer secured, he began the process of cleaning out the fridge. If he didn't do it now, he'd probably forget until he had to return to Mystic Falls.
An odorous fridge and a messy apartment in general were not exactly conducive to earning him money if he hoped to sublet it while he was away.
When he was done with the kitchen, he brought his luggage through the living room to his bedroom.
He didn't bother to unpack what was there; there was no point. He was only going to have to pack it all up again when he filled his larger suitcases with more of his things.
Packing had crossed his mind, until he noticed the small canvas propped up on the easel by one of the tall rectangular windows that overlooked the dreary car-lined street below.
He usually preferred to keep his painting confined to his studio, but when he was working on something smaller he sometimes opted to take it home, especially for the natural light his bedroom provided.
To the untrained eye, the painting looked finished, but he was a perfectionist and had left the painting for days, scrutinizing its imperfections.
He thought about prepping his paints and brushes to make the changes he had decided upon before he left, but the inspiration wasn't there. His mood for it was lost. It was a completely abstract piece, commissioned by the customer to incorporate as many vibrant colours as possible. The dark March night coupled with his less than vibrant weekend, left him unenthused about it. It would be a challenge to complete before he had to return to Mystic Falls, but he also needed the income.
He considered hopping on the train and heading over to the studio to work on the other larger commissioned piece he had to finish before he left again, but it was already starting to get late, and he knew Marcel would already be gone.
Packing it was, he supposed. He would spend tonight packing and then he would head over to the studio early to work and cross paths with Marcel.
He pulled out a larger suitcase from underneath his bed and started on his closet first. There weren't many clothes to pack, luckily, but there were personal effects that he didn't want left behind in the event that someone would be occupying his apartment while he was gone.
Looking around, he wondered if he should even bother re-signing the lease to this place in a few months. Once he had Grayson this apartment would be much too small. He would need at least two bedrooms for when Grayson came to live with him. Just the thought of Grayson being here with him filled him with a competing feeling of excitement and anxiety.
With the remainder of his clothes easily packed, he got to work on the top shelf that contained old sketchpads, portfolios, and small boxes filled with more items: books, CDs, personal documents, and mementos.
Reaching for the highest box first had proven to be a mistake when he lost his grip and it had came tumbling down onto the floor beside him.
"Fuck," he muttered, stopping short to censor himself, but quickly remembering that Grayson was hundreds of miles away.
Luckily, he had stacked wisely and the top box was only filled with what appeared to be paper, photographs, and a few small objects.
He crouched down to examine the contents more closely.
This was the box was mostly filled with Henrik's things.
He picked through the items, pausing first to examine the necklaces on top. Some were handmade by Henrik and others had beenpurchased. All were gothic inspired or modelled after jewellery from ancient civilizations; both of which Henrik had an interest in. He never saw Henrik without one until he gave them to him to keep and wear, knowing that their father would see to it that he wouldn't be buried with them. Their father loathed Henrik's interest in jewellery; he frequently called Henrik a 'girl' for wearing the necklaces. He wore the necklace Henrik had made especially for him just to spite his father in support of Henrik when they were younger. He hadn't worn any of the necklaces since Henrik's death, even though Henrik had encouraged him to; he didn't want to lose or tarnish them. Elijah had a necklace from Henrik too, somewhere. He assumed it would be a matter of time before he found it once he returned to Mystic Falls.
Setting the necklaces aside, he glanced down at the photographs underneath.
They were photos of him and his siblings when they were younger. Their parents were absent from every single one.
He felt his throat swell when he came across a photo of him, Elijah, and Henrik. It was Henrik's fifth birthday. He and Elijah were teenagers. Henrik had spread icing from his birthday cake on their faces.
For a brief moment, he found himself smiling as he replayed the memory in his mind, until it dawned on him that he was the only one from this photograph remaining. Both Elijah and Henrik were now gone.
He sighed, moving on to sort through the other items.
There were a few sealed collectors comics and personal drawings of Henrik's at the bottom of the pile.
He had always admired Henrik's knack for drawing at such a young age. It had taken him a lot longer to perfect his ability.
Of course, he couldn't keep all of Henrik's work, but when he passed, he had made a point of taking his favourites - which were often Henrik's favourites - and the ones that had been eerily left unfinished. His other siblings took some too from what he could recall, but the rest were thrown out after his mother had went on a particularly nasty drinking binge and decided to rid the house of what remained of Henrik's things.
One of the drawings he noticed was the birds of a feather image Henrik had started upon shortly before his death. Henrik explained that it was a metaphor for their sibling relationships; for family. Thus, he always had had a particular affinity for it. Following Henrik's passing, he intended to use the image for a tattoo, but had never gotten around to it.
He picked up the paper and considered it awhile longer. In lieu of Elijah and Elena's deaths and his commitment to Grayson, completing the image now and immortalizing it with ink seemed more than appropriate.
In the midst of packing, he stopped at the beckoning of his inspiration.
Grabbing a few of his sketching pencils from their small box on the sill and a few blank sheets of paper for planning, he took the original drawing out to the already cluttered dining table and got to work.
He drew for about an hour until he was satisfied with the finished product.
Taking a few more minutes to appraise it, his attention was snapped away by the buzzing of his cell phone.
With that noise, he realized how quiet his apartment had truly been. He found it uncomforting. It had been the type of silence he had always revelled in. His concentration appreciated it. A weekend spent in Mystic Falls, however, had suddenly rendered it unsettling.
When he expected to hear Bonnie or Kol playfully bickering, he didn't. When he expected to hear Caroline's sweet voice with Grayson, he didn't. When he expected to hear Grayson's wails, he didn't.
There was a lonely quality about his apartment now that wasn't there before he left.
While he wouldn't go so far as to say that he missed the sound of Grayson crying in and of itself he missed the reassurance it brought him; the reassurance that he wasn't alone.
He stood up from the table and washed his hands off before going to retrieve his phone from his coat pocket.
The complaint of his phone reminded him that he had yet to text Caroline like he told her he would, and he wondered if maybe a message from her had triggered the sound.
Instead, it was a text from Marcel, asking him if he was back in the city yet.
He replied quickly, telling Marcel that he would see him at the gallery in the morning.
The clock on the wall said it was already half past ten, but he decided to text Caroline anyways. If she was already asleep, she would get his message in the morning.
He selected her name, but hesitated about what to say.
Although they had resolved things before he left to an extent, they weren't exactly the best of friends either, so he wasn't sure how to address her.
He knew he was over-thinking this. All he needed to do was send her a simple message.
So that's what he did; he texted a brief message confirming that he had made it to New York safely a few hours ago.
With the message sent, he headed for his bedroom.
He might have had the chance to shower this afternoon after his argument with Caroline, but with Grayson's cries and the short time before he had to leave for the flight, he certainly didn't get a chance to nap. He attempted to on the flight, but he was never keen on falling asleep with a stranger seated right beside him. So, needless to say, he was exhausted.
Sleeping in his bed would be a welcomed change to the couch in Elena and Elijah's family room, or sleeping next to Vicki as he had the night before.
He stripped himself of his long-sleeved shirt and jeans and opted for a pair of sweatpants.
After he returned from the bathroom, having washed his face and brushed his teeth, his attention was brought to his phone vibrating on the nightstand.
He picked it up as he sat down on the mattress.
His unexplained nerves relaxed when he found it was only a reply from Marcel, agreeing to see him in the morning.
As he went to return his phone to the table surface, it began to vibrate in his hand with a message from Caroline.
He sucked in a breath and read the message.
After the three of them left, she felt their absence immediately.
She hadn't been alone in the house with Grayson since before Elena and Elijah died.
It felt even more sombre and empty.
Grayson's successful afternoon nap had rendered it even quieter.
While Grayson napped, she made space in the spare bedroom for her things.
When that was done, she filled her own laundry basket, snuck into Grayson's room for his, and stripped the sofa bed in Elijah's office to begin the laundry that had to be done.
She was just about to retreat to the basement to start the first load when Grayson woke up in a crying fit.
His nap had barely lasted more than a half-hour.
Without any choice, obviously, she dropped the laundry at the top of the stairs and tended to Grayson.
He had an attitude for the rest of the afternoon and evening, even when she attempted to feed him. The feedings were twice as long as they had typically been over the weekend since she had to coax him to eat any of the formula and baby food she had prepared.
After seeing the grocery receipt at the bottom of one of the bags and noticing the cost of the formula, she had to hold back the expletives she wanted to use when she had to pour the unconsumed remainder down the sink. It was something she wouldn't tell Klaus about, knowing that he paid for the pricey necessity in the first place.
When she fed Grayson before bed she offered Grayson some of Elena's breast milk to see if that made a difference in his appetite. Perhaps the formula was the problem. It was not, however. Grayson was still unenthused about eating.
His lackluster appetite worried her, but she decided to wait until tomorrow to see if there were any changes before she let herself fall into a complete panic.
The extended feedings and his general fussy behaviour meant that she didn't get him to bed until nearly nine at night and that her phone call with Bonnie, once she arrived back in New York, only consisted of a short hello and goodbye and promises to talk later.
She almost didn't want to disturb him when she put him to bed, but her arm had been numb from his weight since he had fallen asleep against her chest after an hour of protest.
Luckily, he remained asleep when she put him down in his crib, and she made a stealthy escape from his room so as not to wake him.
At that point, she was starving, having been unable to afford herself the time to make something to eat when Grayson was awake. So, she ended up eating cereal for dinner, too tired and annoyed to be bothered to make anything else.
Once she was finished eating and the laundry was in the washer, she took advantage of the small home gym Elena and Elijah had in their basement. She only used the treadmill - with Grayson's monitor in the cup holder and her water on the floor - but it was better than nothing. She obviously hadn't had time to make it to the gym this past weekend and she was in desperate need of something to work off her stress. In any case, the small TV they had mounted to the wall made it even easier to tune out her thoughts and relax.
Still, it was difficult not to think about today and the days that had preceded it.
Despite the fact that she and Klaus had settled their differences before he left, she was still annoyed with him, especially in lieu of his absence tonight. Having him here would have made things a lot easier.
But she knew she couldn't think like that. She couldn't resent him, as Bonnie had warned her. He was going to New York for legitimate reasons, all of which, when settled, would enable him to return to Mystic Falls to help take care of Grayson. She had to understand that. She had to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust what he told her before he left was true: that he intended to keep his promise and that he wanted to be the dependable father figure Grayson deserved.
There was still an unsure part of her, however, given their distant and recent history, that urged her not to hold her breath, that told her come Friday, she would be the only one present with Stefan at the hearing to solidify guardianship of Grayson.
She didn't want to think like that, but it was hard not to consider the worst case scenario. She had to be prepared in the event that Klaus opted not to return like he said he would.
She sighed shakily as she recalled the sick feeling that hit her when she saw Klaus in the hall with his bag. She thought he was leaving; she thought he was running away for good, and she had scolded herself for allowing herself think, for a second time, that maybe someone could prove to be the exception for him.
But then, at the last minute, when all hope seemed lost, he proved her immediate assumption wrong and told her he would be back.
She wanted him to prove her wrong again. She wanted him to be there on Friday. Grayson needed both of them.
His assurances seemed sincere, but her insecurities kept her guarded. She supposed she was cautiously optimistic.
This was his chance. If he didn't take it, then there was no more that needed to be said in regards to his commitment. His words could only go so far; there needed to be action to back them up.
She couldn't let worry over what Klaus may or may not do consume her. She had to focus on what she had control over, her own actions. Regardless of what happened Friday, she would still be there for Grayson come Saturday.
Feeling grounded by that fact, she took an exercise break to switch the wet laundry over to the dryer. By the time the clothes were dry, she had worked up a significant sheen of sweat and decided to end her exercise there for the night. She folded the laundry and went to bring it upstairs.
As she started for the stairs to the main floor, she made note of the open door to the storage room Klaus and Kol had been rummaging through the other night. Setting the laundry basket down, she turned on the light and entered the room of shelves and boxes. She'd helped Elena organize this room a few months after her parents and Jeremy died. It was distressing and disturbing to think that she would have to go through all of it again now that Elena and Elijah were gone.
She peered into one of the open boxes Kol and Klaus had left on the floor. It looked like a bunch of electronic related items that she hadn't the first clue about.
Knowing if she rifled through the box she'd be down here until dawn tackling a job that required more than a few hours, she nudged the box aside with her foot before shutting off the light and returning to the laundry basket.
She didn't feel right about going through Elena and Elijah's things without Klaus there anyways.
After she put what clothes she could away - Grayson's would have to wait until morning - she showered and got ready for bed, in hopes that Grayson would decide to sleep through the night. Surely he was tired, he had slept terrible the night before, Mikael and Esther had the audacity to interrupt his morning nap, and his afternoon nap was barely worthy of mentioning. Perhaps she could get some decent sleep tonight.
From the bathroom, she could hear her ringtone sound from the bedroom.
Worried that the noise of her ringtone might wake Grayson, she spit out her toothpaste hurriedly and rushed into the bedroom to silence the sound.
Her breathing hitched slightly when she recognized the sender of the message she'd received.
'Klaus.'
She really hadn't expected him to text her so soon, if at all. She kind of regretted asking him to in the first place. In hindsight, it had probably made her look desperate and pathetic. She could have easily discerned from Bonnie that he had made it to New York without any issue, but she had asked him to text her anyways. Her pride aside, she wanted him to keep in touch if only for her peace of mind.
But was it only for her peace of mind? The reappearance of goose bumps on her arms and the anticipatory clench of her stomach said otherwise.
She read the message, brushing her concern aside.
'I made it to New York with Kol and Bonnie a few hours ago.'
Though she knew that already, thanks to Bonnie, she felt an added sense of relief.
Sitting down on the bed, she texted him back.
'That's good. When are you coming back?'
He paused and considered the question more than he needed to.
Of course, it was a question motivated by general curiosity. There was no eagerness there.
'Friday morning. My flight leaves at 6 am,' he replied, leaning back against his headboard.
Her response came quickly.
'Okay,' it read simply.
He knew this was the logical end to their text conversation, but for some reason, he felt inclined to keep it going.
'How is Grayson?' he wondered, genuinely concerned about how he was given his distressed state earlier.
He felt guilty for not being there to help her. That guilt he felt was only exacerbated by how big of a jackass he had been the night before.
'He hasn't been eating much. I didn't get him to bed until 9.'
It seemed as though Grayson was getting worse, not better. His body swelled with anxiety. Though he knew he had to be in New York to handle things, he suddenly felt helpless. What could he do for Caroline or for Grayson over the phone? Absolutely nothing.
'Maybe you should call Meredith?' he suggested, unsure of what else to say.
He waited impatiently for her to respond.
'I am going to take him to the hospital tomorrow if he doesn't get any better,' she assured him.
'Okay,' he answered.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious - whether due to his lingering guilt or concern - he quickly texted a follow up message.
'Sorry if I woke you up. I should've assumed you were sleeping after your day with Grayson,' he apologized.
There was a delay in response and he waited nervously.
'I'm just getting ready for bed now,' the reply finally said.
He felt himself tense inappropriately at Caroline's revelation.
Shielding his eyes with his hand in embarrassment, he tried to wipe out the thoughts that had entered his mind of Caroline; they were curious thoughts about what she looked like when she dressed, what she was wearing, whether she was texting him in bed as he was her.
'Same,' he replied casually, hoping his own delay in response would not rouse her suspicion.
'Did all the bars close early because they knew you were coming back?' her next message said, clearly meant to be teasing.
An amused smile crossed his face.
'Funny, but I'm tired and it will be an early morning at the studio tomorrow. There's lots of work to be done.' he explained to her.
'There's lots of work to be done here, too,' she quickly reminded him.
Before he could type out a response, a follow up message quickly came.
'I need you to fuck me when you get back.'
His eyes practically fell from his face in shock as he reread the last message to confirm what she had said.
She had definitely said, 'fuck,' he concluded.
He also concluded that it had to have been a typo.
His face went red with second-hand embarrassment as he snickered at her mistake.
He waited for her to send a speedy recovery message, but it didn't come.
'Are you sure?' he asked playfully, wondering if she had realized her error.
'I can't do it by myself!' the annoyed message came almost automatically.
He erupted with laughter.
'If you insist, sweetheart,' he replied. 'Although I think you meant help, not fuck, but either way,' he texted back boldly.
He probably should have refrained from sending the last part. He hoped she received it as a joke, and not a real offer, even though he knew deep his intent was questionable. He was pushing the boundaries.
In no time at all, he had a response.
'OMG! OF COURSE I MEANT HELP! STUPID AUTO-CORRECT! I'M GOING TO BED, GOODNIGHT!' she said.
He literally laughed out loud at her reply.
'lol, whatever you say ; )' he teased, following that up with a simple, 'goodnight.'
With a smile still playing on his lips, he climbed under the comforter and shut off the bedside lamp.
He went through his messages a final time, pausing on the slip up she had sent to him.
'I need you to fuck me when you get back.'
It wasn't a real request, he knew, but he couldn't help the small jolt of electricity that shot through his body as he read it a third time.
Despite logical protest, his mind wandered over the sinful replies he might have sent to her had the message been truthful.
With his imagination consumed by a lustful fire and the appendage in his pants beginning to stir, he tossed his phone back onto the nightstand.
She felt a rush of sickness hit her when she saw his response.
'If you insist, sweetheart,' he replied. 'Although I think you meant help, not fuck, but either way.'
In a sudden burst of panic, she checked her previous messages.
'I need you to fuck me when you get back.'
She groaned in humiliated agony. She wanted to curl up under the duvet and die.
Her fingers must have slipped when she was typing the message and then auto-correct did the rest, putting the nail in the coffin of her embarrassment.
She couldn't believe she had sent that to him without realizing. She had never 'sexted' someone by accident before let alone on purpose.
Quickly she texted him an exasperated reply, intent on clarifying in case he got the wrong idea.
She literally peeked through a parted hand at his reply.
'lol, whatever you say,' he said, followed by, 'goodnight.'
Though it was a tame jab, she still cringed.
She was certain he wouldn't let her live this typo down.
And despite her embarrassment, she found herself going back through their exchange.
'If you insist, sweetheart,' she reread. 'Although I think you meant help, not fuck, but either way.'
Her eyes clenched shut at his flirty, but teasing, quips.
Surely that was all they were.
'lol, whatever you say,' she read again.
She scowled at his suggestive remark and was almost tempted to send him another message to reaffirm that she had truly meant to say, 'help.'
However, she decided against it, knowing it would only make her intentions look suspect.
Her message was supposed to say, 'help,' not 'fuck,' she lamented to herself.
She did not want him to fuck her contrary to what the subtle ache between her thighs might have suggested.
The message was a mistake and there was no truth to it whatsoever.
Her attraction to Klaus Mikaelson and their subsequent one-weekend stand had been a complete one off - a mistake, as Klaus had so eloquently put it - it wouldn't happen again.
Frustrated, she tossed her phone on the nightstand beside her and rolled over to the opposite side of the mattress.
A/N: So what did you think?
As promised, the next chapter will include another long distance conversation and dinner with the Salvatores. Marcel will also be making an appearance!
Oh yeah, if any of you are from New York City, sorry if I butchered any of the details. My knowledge is limited to a night of research on various neighbourhoods, a New York City transit map, and what I've seen on television, aha.