Author's note: This was created for the Klaroline Fall Bingo Event klarolinefallbingo. It's a sequel to Chapter 119 - Part 2 - What Makes Up a Monster, in my series, A Beautiful Symmetry. Also, the KC Awards are happening soon, and I hope you'll consider nominating my writing!

Warning: Some angst

Prompt: Fake blood


Why did she do this to herself? Caroline stabbed the makeup brush into the foundation palette a bit harder than necessary, watching a couple of the extras giggle and fawn all over Klaus. Despite his worldwide fame and countless industry accolades, he'd somehow remained the same generous, down-to-earth man he'd been when she first met him two decades ago. Not that he'd remember her. She'd made sure of that.

One of her fangs dug into the tip of her tongue, pricking it just enough to sate her monster. Monsters shouldn't have regrets. What they'd had together should've been a brief fling, but instead feelings happened, and she ended up compelling him to forget. It had been for the best — he was close with his siblings and he desperately wanted to be famous — that combination spelled disaster for her kind.

But Caroline couldn't stay away. Almost as though she was doing penance, every few years, she'd find her way onto the makeup team for one of his movies, feeling the need to check up on him. However, she hid behind a wall of cheerful professionalism, making sure not to let him get close again. Her heart could only take so much.

"My apologies, sweetheart."

Klaus' accented voice was a buttery warmth that flowed over her. Straightening her spine, she replied dryly, "It's such a pity to have to drag the Great Klaus Mikaelson away from his fan club so that he can do his actual job."

"Might want to mind that sharp tongue of yours, love; when you get a bit older, you'll find that youth and beauty only get you so far in this business."

Arrogant little bastard. Tucking back a grin at Klaus' assumption that he was older than her, Caroline tightened the collar of his protective cape a bit more than strictly necessary. "Sharp tongues have their uses," she muttered, carefully reapplying the coagulated blood gel to the prosthetic gash she'd crafted along his cheek and neck. "You'd be surprised how many movie sets this sharp tongue has talked me onto."

That smirk of his deepened, dimples cutting into his cheeks. Fake blood had never looked so good. "Perhaps you're a secret fan of mine? Consider me flattered."

"I've caught a couple of your movies." No need for him to know she'd been the lead special effects artist on the set of the highly acclaimed paranormal drama, Ghostly Secrets. And the blockbuster sci-fi movie, The Price of Ambition. Or a handful of others where she'd purposely managed the other makeup artists to avoid him becoming too familiar with her face over the years. Fuck, that was pathetic.

He seemed charmed by her terse tone, chuckling as he replied, "I have to admit, I've had a good run in this town, but lately everything just feels so predictable. A table at Pearl's, drinks at Boarding House — the days all run together." Klaus frowned, leaning forward as he became more invested in what he was saying. "And you should see the scripts my agent's been sending me. Bloody awful drivel that's even lazier than my old Hell's Hybrid movies."

Caroline's blue eyes widened, and she hated the way her sluggish heart suddenly began to pick up its pace. It's just words. It doesn't mean anything. "Then quit. You've probably made enough to last you several lifetimes."

"But what if I want to live more than several lifetimes?"

His cheeky question made her hand tremble, and she accidentally nicked underneath his chin while carefully trimming the loose edge of his prosthetic. Damn it. She quickly sliced her finger, dabbing a tiny bit of blood in the wound so that it would heal instantly. "Not sure the planet could take the weight of your ego for so long," she teased, doing her best to strangle the hopeful butterflies that fluttered inside.

"You wound me, sweetheart." His tone turned speculative as he added, "I suspect my younger brother would've enjoyed you."

Caroline busied herself applying a thin layer of adhesive to the smaller prosthetics, unsure of what to say. A few years ago, Kol's death had made global headlines when he died in the plane crash that also took their sister. Her heart had ached for Klaus, but she stayed away, knowing that if she saw him grieving, she'd compel him to remember her just so she could comfort him. She couldn't be selfish with him.

She'd been proud of the way he'd grown from the tragedy, taking the time he needed to grieve, before returning to the spotlight. There was a quiet strength to him now, a matter-of-fact confidence that had been lacking when they first met. "Your family would be proud of you," she murmured, briefly squeezing his shoulder so she wouldn't do something stupid like give him an awkward, way-too-familiar hug.

"Thank you." Klaus paused, gray eyes regarding her in a way that made her wonder what he saw. "You're very easy to talk to — maybe we could have a drink after we wrap for the day?"

No. You can't go through this again. "I doubt you're lacking for company. But I'll see you tomorrow," Caroline replied gently, flashing him a smile that made her face hurt.

Undeterred, he winked, telling her, "Challenge accepted. I'll earn your company eventually, love."


The speedboat revved its engine, the stunt driver taking sharp turns through the narrow canal as he waited for Klaus to get into position. The studio always shamelessly plugged the fact that Klaus was one of the few leading men who'd perform at least one major stunt per film. Why did he always have to pick the most dangerous ones?

Caroline carried the last makeup case to her car, resolutely staring ahead once she saw the safety coordinators and trainers buckling him into his harness. She never could stomach watching those scenes. The first explosion still made her jump, despite her anticipating the loud boom. However, it was the unexpected second explosion and shattering glass that made her gasp. Something was wrong.

She followed the screams to the center bridge overlooking the canal, the crowd pointing at the side of the skyscraper that Klaus was supposed to parachute past and shoot a grappling hook into the speedboat below. Instead, several cables had snapped in the accidental second explosion, and the wall of shattered glass showed her that Klaus had been slammed into the side of the building.

No. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes, and she didn't bother restraining her strength as she shoved people out of the way. She had to do something. But there was nothing to be done. The crew frantically retracted the remaining cables on the crane, pulling him back to the roof. But it didn't matter — he wasn't Klaus anymore. Just a body. She cursed her enhanced senses, hating how the staff still had hope as they watched. Because they couldn't hear how the air stopped inflating his lungs. How his heart had stilled. Caroline closed her eyes, sending a silent goodbye out into the universe. For he who he was.


The morgue was crawling with parasitic reporters, all salivating at the thought of capturing a grisly morgue picture of the famous Klaus Mikaelson's corpse. Caroline compelled her way onto the hospital's staff, the heightened security a minor annoyance that she fortunately understood how to navigate.

She brushed aside the curls along Klaus' forehead, the ghastly bruising much more faint than when he'd first been removed from the destroyed set. Suddenly, his body jerked violently on the slab; Klaus' eyes opened with a gasp.

There. Confusion clouded his gaze as he stared at her, the compelled memories rattling around in his mind as he sorted through them. "Caroline," he asked uncertainly, before recognition colored his tone as he exclaimed, "Caroline! It's been so long and I've missed you. I didn't even realize what I was missing, but I felt it all the same. I felt you."

Caroline didn't know when she started crying, but soon she found herself wrapped up in his arms. He murmured against her curls, "What happened?"

Time to discuss those several lifetimes he'd mentioned.