Author's note: This was written for Klaroline Bingo klaroline-events. Prompt: Pain. As an Original, Klaus thought he understood death. But it took meeting one brave human to show him how little he actually knew.

Warning: The angst is back. This idea came to me when I had a health scare earlier this year and I wasn't quite ready to work through it until now.


"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."
― Isaac Asimov


Klaus was a selfish man. But he couldn't be selfish about this. This was not about his pain. He watched Caroline's blue eyes light up as she cradled the delicate blue flowers he'd given her. It was foolish, but he imagined that his gift brought color back to her cheeks. She was far too pale. Klaus had met Caroline when he was traveling through the Andes, searching for a powerful shaman to assist him with locating the final ingredients needed to break his hybrid curse. He'd been in a right strop when he tore through the mountain village, dripping blood and chunks of flesh, and it wasn't until he'd paused at a stream to wash off some of the gore that he heard the sweetest, most sarcastic voice.

"If you keep scrubbing that hard, you'll rub off all your glitter."

From her impish grin, he assumed his expression was quite comical, but for the first time in centuries, he found himself at a loss for words.

"You're a vampire, right? Seriously?! How do you not know about Twilight?"

For the first time since that half-witted shaman had betrayed him, he burst out laughing.

And that was the moment his life changed. Because Klaus had never met a human so full of life like Caroline was. But Caroline was dying. As he thought of the pain she'd endured, he could feel his temper flaring, wishing he could unleash his fury at this indifferent world.

"Stop it, Klaus," Caroline's melodic voice commanded, taking him by the hand and leading him out into the garden. "It's not your job to be angry at my cancer. Trust me — I'm angry enough for both of us."

He watched her fussily arrange the brightly colored flowers in the lopsided vase she stubbornly kept from his disastrous pottery lesson, frowning when he noticed how her knees started to shake. He guided her to the plush daybed, mindful of his supernatural strength as he felt how painfully thin she was underneath her gauzy dress. "Trust me, sweetheart, I was furious at the world ages before you came along."

"Yeah, but I'm special. Something about beautiful and full of light, blah, blah," she said with a wink. "And before when you were pissed off, you'd just slaughter a village until you felt better, but this is different." Her voice took on a more serious tone, and she slid her gaze away from his. "It's metastatic breast cancer. I have tumors throughout my body. I can't be cured; the best I can hope for is to keep up my herbal treatments here."

He shook his head, doing his best to quell his anger. None of this was her fault. He knew when she'd first been diagnosed in the States, she went through the conventional chemotherapy before moving to targeted therapy treatments, but each time the cancer grew back. Finally, she'd exhausted all of her options, and instead pursued a variety of alternative herbal therapies that eventually led her to Argentina. "The kenaf seed extract and aromatherapy seem to be working," he murmured, placing a kiss to her temple.

Caroline laced their fingers together, a familiar note of caution in her voice as she gently reminded him, "It's true in lab trials, the extracts killed cancer cells better than some of the other herbal supplements I've tried. But with metastasis, there's peaks and valleys — sometimes the disease is stable, and other times it progresses."

"But you're stable now," he blurted out, hating the uncertainty in his voice.

Her smile was sunshine and joy and all of the sweet promises Klaus fervently wished he'd known centuries ago. How different his life would've been. "It's like I reminded my doctors when they tried to talk me about of moving down here. It's about the quality of my life, Klaus."

They were distracted when a vibrant blue and green hummingbird appeared, hovering over the orange and yellow bell-shaped flowers. He heard Caroline's heart flutter in excitement, and he did his best to ignore her shortness of breath.

Turning away, he observed the hummingbird, an odd sense of peace washing over him as he observed, "Such an extraordinary thing, mercilessly beating its wings just to stay alive. I've never witnessed a creature with such fire in its soul, fighting to earn every moment of its life." He glanced back at her, his gray gaze intense while his voice was barely above a harsh whisper as he said, "Except for you."

"Are you always so charming," she asked dryly, reaching up to poke at one of his dimples. "Or, do you normally let your dimples do all the work?"

Klaus gave her an indulgent smile. He loved her sheer cheek; the way she never backed down from him even after she saw what he was. She was glorious. His equal in every way. "Let me turn you," he pleaded, "my blood can heal you, and then you can be with me."

"Ask me tomorrow." She laid her head on his chest, palm resting over his heart. "I'm always surprised that I can feel your heartbeat. It's strong — like you."

"And I can hear yours," he replied gruffly, her erratic pulse sending him into a panic that he did his best to cover up with a smirk.

"Isn't it amazing?"

Klaus found himself leaning into the warmth of her embrace, protectively draping his body against hers as they watched the hummingbird flit from one flower to another.

Amazing.


"You're going to drop me," Caroline said with a giggle, her voice muffled against his shoulder and Klaus cradled her against him.

"Nonsense, love. Even as a lad, I carried deer that weighed more than you. Even some of our goats." As she rolled her eyes, he hastily added, "But you smell much better."

"And I smell bullshit."

Her delighted giggles made his heart feel like it was breaking and healing all at once. They came to a stop at the blanket he'd spread out on the dock, and he carefully laid her among several pillows. Lake Lacár was a magnificent sapphire blue today, and Klaus knew he'd always see Caroline's fierce gaze reflected in its still waters. Gesturing to the wicker basket, he said, "I thought you'd enjoy a picnic."

He shyly handed her a glass, pleased that the witch's freezing spell had kept the smoothies the perfect temperature. "This has ginger in it. I thought it would help with your nausea."

She beamed at him, taking a sip and nodding enthusiastically, "Delicious. You're too good to me."

He ducked his curly head, cheeks reddening slightly. "Many things have been said about me over the centuries, but 'good' never was one of them. I'm not a good man, sweetheart." Snorting derisively, he added, "I'm not even a man."

Setting aside their smoothies, Caroline huffed impatiently. "Who the hell cares? I certainly don't. You're smart and tough and fiercely protective. You're basically a Rottweiler with dimples." She leaned forward, briefly brushing her lips to his.

Every time they touched, Klaus felt as though his soul was sinking into hers a little more, and he welcomed how his loneliness seemed to vanish. He cupped her cheek, thumb lightly grazing the sharpness he found there. "And you are a cheeky minx."

Caroline grinned, gazing across the water at the people paddling their kayaks. "Hey, when you finally get around to breaking your curse, will you take on more wolfy characteristics?" She placed her hand over his heart, her voice endearingly curious as she questioned, "I mean...do you feel your wolf now?"

Klaus was stunned — no one ever had asked him that before. "Being cut off from my wolf is...hurtful. Sometimes I fancy I can feel it move through me, but I'm never sure. My birthright is there, trapped in my blood and bones." He sighed heavily, "And it's beyond my reach."

"Nothing is beyond your reach," she swore vehemently, "you're Klaus Mikaelson. You're the man who survived an unspeakable, violent childhood and now has powerful supernatural creatures as his minions." She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, dryly adding, "And you fearlessly attempted to teach me how to make alfajores."

"And then generously replaced your oven and repainted your kitchen."

Caroline playfully elbowed him in the ribs. "Okay, seriously? The first two fires were your fault. The third and fourth ones...meh, we'll call it a draw."

Lips curling into a devious grin, he kissed her soundly, delighting in the tiny surprised squeak she emitted as he ran his hands down her back. He winced slightly as he felt the harsh ridge of her spine. She shuddered in his arms, and at first, he was alarmed that he'd hurt her, but then she moaned against him, dominating the kiss and he was lost within her.

With a gasp, she finally pulled back, resting their foreheads together. A hitch in her voice was apparent as she said, "Just need to catch my breath." Klaus found it endearing when she giddily told him, "I can feel my pulse. It's racing! Isn't that amazing?"

"Amazing," he agreed, cursing his supernatural hearing that told him her heart was pounding far too haphazardly. Needing reassurance, he lightly touched her chest, the feel of it moving with every breath both a blessing and a curse. "Will you let me turn you?"

"Ask me tomorrow." Caroline's sunshine smile always filled him with warmth. He refused to see how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

When a jewel-toned hummingbird briefly hovered over the blue flowers near the edge of the water, her eyes lit up excitedly. "Do you think it's the same one from the garden? Aww, he's alone again. I hope he finds a friend soon. Everyone needs someone."


Klaus knew something was wrong the moment Caroline didn't answer her door. The morning felt different. Everything did. He took the spare key from the hideous ceramic frog she'd insisted on buying when they visited the village market because 'it looked lonely.' He loathed the panic in his voice when he called out, "Caroline?"

He found her lying in bed. And far too still. And he could smell —

No.

Cursing his supernatural senses, Klaus flashed away, unable to be in her room a moment longer. That wasn't Caroline anymore.

Needing to feel close to her, he found himself in her garden. She loved being surrounded by flowers and once she'd grown too weak to tend them, she'd enlisted his help to keep everything blooming. Suddenly, a blue-green hummingbird flitted to the vibrant, bell-shaped flowers, and despite his sorrow, his lips quirked when he saw the hummingbird had brought a friend. Caroline would've liked that.

Caroline was gone. But she didn't have to be. There was magic Klaus could use; a powerful coven was cheaper than buying an election these days. The right promises of power and protection coupled with the proper threats and even the most discerning of witches would pledge their loyalty.

He clenched his fists, trembling. She would be whole again. Ageless and beautiful. And his. Except Caroline never wanted to be anything more than what she was. Human. All she'd ever wanted was more time. He saw it in her earnest gaze and bittersweet smile every time she rebuffed his offer. 'Ask me tomorrow' was her way of telling him she craved another day at his side as a human.

Klaus was a selfish man. But he couldn't be selfish about this.