Author's note: This was written for Klarosummer Bingo and is the sequel to Chapter 110 in my series, A Beautiful Symmetry. Caroline is in a loving, fulfilling relationship with a wonderful man. Everything is perfect...until the headaches begin, bringing with them unpleasant memories of a life that isn't hers.
I also published a new Klaroline story, A Good Bet, that I hope you'll check out!
Prompt: Uffizi Gallery
Warning: Angst. Vague references to domestic abuse. Also, this is a fusion with Dollhouse. If you're familiar with Dollhouse, you know it opened a dialogue with its audience regarding free will, implied consent, and slavery. Just FYI for potential triggers.
"Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others."
― Fyodor Dostoevsky
Caroline was dancing. No. That's not right. She was falling while dancing. Pulsing lights of reds and purples swept across her bare form as she writhed among silk fabric that kept her airborne. She squinted at the red light. She hated red. It just was so angry. Later on, when the hands reached for her, grabbing at her skin until angry welts appeared, she would giggle and beg for more. Because that's what they programmed her to do.
A fantasy doesn't get a say.
Caroline blinked rapidly, rubbing her forehead with a wince of pain. Where had that come from? When she tried to think too hard about the memory, it was...blank. Only pain.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" The note of concern in Klaus' voice was apparent, and he pulled her back to him, leaning his head on her shoulder as they studied the painting before them.
Gentileschi's Judith Beheading Holofernes was a powerful, provocative work, signaling the triumph of a powerful woman. And Caroline hated it. There was a visceral ugliness that washed over her as she examined the flex of Judith's arm as she forced the blade into Holofernes' neck. Good — he deserved it. "I'm fine," she told Klaus, kissing one of his dimples. "Just a headache."
"You've been getting them more frequently," he murmured worriedly.
She quickly shook her head, blonde curls playfully brushing his cheek. "Not really. I promise, it's probably just the sun and a little too much wine." Klaus was such a thoughtful, sweet man and she cared about him a great deal. He'd been so excited to take her to Florence and had rambled on about taking her on a private tour of the Uffizi Gallery. She couldn't ruin this for him with something as silly as a headache and a handful of bad dreams.
He gently tugged her hand, pulling her away from the painting that had set her teeth on edge. "Let's take a quick tour of the Roman sculptures on our way out, hmm? I've asked Isobel to prepare a late supper for us at the villa."
She squealed excitedly, "I love Roman sculpture! The second century saw some of the finest creations that modern art could never hope to duplicate!"
As he led her to the gallery showcasing the ancient classical art, he casually commented, "I seem to recall your thesis involved the statuary excavated from the Trajan Baths."
Klaus was such a thoughtful, sweet man and she cared about him a great deal. "Wow! That's amazing you remember that; I love how you remember all these little details about me." It was odd how she registered the flash of sadness in his eyes, as though she'd brought him out of their happy bubble.
However, their peculiar moment was forgotten the moment the famed Farnese Hercules came into view. "Isn't it magnificent," she sighed, completely awestruck as her eyes drank in every graceful curve of the unusually large sculpture. "While standing at more than 10 feet certainly makes this work imposing, for me, it's always been his eyes that makes it so memorable. There's a sadness there that you don't expect to see in a depiction of a classical hero." A fond smile tugged at Caroline's lips when she added, "I actually had a screaming match about that with my Ancient Roman Politics TA senior year. He was such a asshat — especially after my work inadvertently exposed his improperly documented research."
Klaus' gaze seemed to bore into the statue, his tone wistful as he commented, "Perhaps the sculptor captured the moment that Hercules realized he wasn't a hero."
There it was again, that melancholy that occasionally crept into Klaus' voice. They shared a passion for art and would have spirited discussions, but sometimes he'd get a faraway look in his eye as though he was reminded of something unpleasant and needed to carefully weigh his words. "You know what? I'm starting to get hungry. Let's get out of here," Caroline told him with a warm smile, tugging him past the Sleeping Eros, Cupid with Bow, and the series of ancient altar pieces.
The Uffizi Gallery no longer made Klaus happy and it was important to her that he was happy. A slight twinge at her temple made her frown, and she blinked rapidly until it went away. He squeezed her hand, favoring her with a pleased grin, and Caroline felt her heart flutter. Klaus was such a thoughtful, sweet man and she cared about him a great deal.
There were diamonds on her skin. Even in the low, soft light, the enormous chandelier with its sweeping arcs of crystal cast a glittering pattern on her bare body. Klaus' bedroom was a sensual fantasy of gold and cream silk and exquisitely carved marble. Everywhere she looked, everything she touched, set her senses ablaze. Caroline had been here countless times before — she was sure of it. However, there was a nervous energy that lingered in her bones, telling her that this was new. Ouch. She sat up with a frown, rubbing her temple again.
Red light. Purple light. Everything was coated in it and it hurt her eyes. She used to tell him that she felt like spoiled meat, thinking he'd laugh.
The kiss to her shoulder startled her. It was too gentle. She didn't know gentle. Where did that come from? Of course she knew gentle. Klaus was such a thoughtful, sweet man and she cared about him a great deal. She pulled him in for a kiss, relishing the feel of his hands as he caressed her sides.
"You're exquisite," he breathed, a hint of reverence in his voice that made her heart race.
She playfully nipped his earlobe, whispering, "It's nothing you haven't seen before. You act like this is the first time."
Something unreadable flashed in his gaze, but he favored her with a small smile before fusing his lips with hers, descending into heated, raw desire that made her clutch at his back with a helpless moan. He suddenly pulled away with a furrowed brow, panting as he moved to the far side of the bed, muttering to himself distractedly. She didn't catch everything he said, but there was something about a hollow shell and somebody named Kol had warned him.
Alarmed, Caroline gingerly approached Klaus, reaching out a hand to comfort him. "Hey, what's wrong," she asked, confused and a bit worried.
When he snapped his head up to reply, a stranger suddenly sat before her. Dirty blonde curls were replaced with dark locks, and an icy blue gaze swept over her with disgust.
He would reach for her, grab at her flesh until it purpled. And then he would yell.
"No! Damon, I promise, I'll be good," she begged, coming out of her hazy memory that left her shaken and more confused than ever. Who was Damon?
It comforted her to see that Klaus was Klaus again, pulling her into his arms as he murmured soothing things in her ear. "Love," he began carefully, "I need to ask you something...odd." Taking a breath, he hesitantly asked, "Are you experiencing memories that don't feel like they belong to you?"
"I...it's not memories exactly. More like nightmares," she muttered, rubbing her forehead with a wince as the pain returned.
"I'm going to help you," he vowed, kissing her head as he rocked her gently. Caroline settled against his chest, anxiety and gratitude dueling in her mind until she eventually drifted to sleep.
Furious bellows woke her, and she quietly crept out of the bedroom, making her way to the spiral staircase. Klaus held a man by the throat, slamming him against the wall so hard a vase fell off of the foyer table and shattered. "Did you know, you little prick," he screamed.
"That you hijacked my best friend for this sick little rendezvous," the man replied, breaking free of Klaus' hold as he continued, "We're brothers; you knew how much it meant to me that there was someone in this world who cared about me. I warned you away from her and you didn't care, you selfish bastard!"
"Kol, you rented a hollow shell from the Dollhouse and had them fill her up with fake memories of a friendship that never existed!"
There was that word again, 'hollow shell'. And Kol — he'd mentioned someone named Kol. Who apparently was his brother? Frowning, Caroline slightly leaned over the bannister, not wanting to miss a word of the bizarre fight below.
"A bit rich, mate, coming from you," Kol venomously spat, "You had the Dollhouse force-feed her memories of a relationship that doesn't exist!" Cocking his head to the side, he asked sarcastically, "I bet you made the Dollhouse scoop out every memory of me and our friendship, didn't you? So, how long has your fake relationship been going on? I know this is your first outing with her, but how long does she remember it's been, you bloody hypocrite?"
Hot, angry tears built in her eyes, and she couldn't stop trembling. This didn't make any sense. She remembered that she and Klaus had been together for months now — it was impossible to think this was their first date. And she didn't recognize Kol at all — why did he think they were friends? And what the hell did a dollhouse have to do with this?
"That's not important now," Klaus retorted with an unsteady breath. "We need to talk about Caroline. And the fact that the Dollhouse lied." The steel in his gaze returned with a vengeance as he seethed with barely controlled rage. "She didn't make the choice to sign a contract and become a doll — the choice was made for her."
None of this made sense. A doll? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Klaus and Kol rambled on about things that she only vaguely understood — private detectives and lawyers who uncovered...things she wasn't ready to hear. Their righteous indignation and burning need to punish whomever they saw as the bad guys felt hypocritical to Caroline, but only because she was starting to realize that she knew things or maybe she once knew things but then they were taken away...
Caroline winced as another headache pierced her skull. Swiping at her tears, she tried to cling to what she knew to be true. There were memories dancing just below the surface, and they scampered away every time she tried to touch them.
Klaus was such a thoughtful, sweet man and —
