Baby Klaus. That is all.
Supernatural wars. Possessed witches. A spell gone wrong. Nothing unusual in Caroline's life, really. But alas.
When she had mindlessly picked up her phone just a few hours earlier, hearing Rebekah's nervous voice on the other side had been quite the surprise—it had been over a year since she had last seen or heard from any of the Originals, after all—but what the older blonde vampire had gone on to tell her had somehow managed to shock her even further. If 'shocking' was even the right adjective for what had happened (and Caroline seriously doubted that there was any appropriate word to use in such a situation at all, to be honest).
Nonetheless, now, four hours later, she found herself holding a baby. And not just any baby, nope. Baby Klaus, which do not even, okay?
Apparently, while trying to somehow disconnect Esther from the world of the living through Klaus' blood, something (someone) had caused the Originals' trusted witch to lose control of herself and her magic (well, duh), and Elijah and Rebekah had suddenly found themselves sharing their extremely large and non-baby-proof at all mansion with a very tiny, very cute, and very chubby Klaus-turned-toddler.
They were confident that they could find a way to get Klaus back to his normal age and status pretty quickly, but they also knew that they couldn't do that if they also had to take care of a baby in the meantime. Apparently, then, it didn't take very long for Rebekah to convince Elijah that the young vampire that their brother was in love with but had needed to leave behind in Mystic Falls was the only one to be trusted with a baby Klaus, and tadaaaa!
Baby for you, Caroline Forbes!
She just looooved to win at existence, didn't she?
Heaving a somewhat tired sigh, Caroline eyed the baby again, holding him in her arms at a good few inches distance in front of her. His big, blue eyes blinked up at her, a slight pout on his parted lips as his legs kicked almost excitedly underneath him, as he was obviously starting to get impatient.
Oh, Klaus being impatient? Who would have ever thought!
"God," she muttered under her breath, "I can't believe this is really happening."
Cradling the baby closer to her chest, she moved towards the cream white couch positioned right in the middle of her living room, bringing along the bag full of necessities that Rebekah had been so kind—enter snort—to gift her with when she had almost literally dropped baby Klaus on her doorstep.
"You're lucky I used to babysit for the Gardiners," she said, shaking her head as she sat down with him cuddled into her.
Klaus babbled nonsensically against her, one of his tiny hands gripping onto the yellow blouse she was wearing and pulling, trying to get even more of her attention (goddamn needy babies). When, after a moment, she finally turned to look down at him, he was opening and closing his mouth over and over again, making tiny, wet bubbles exit his lips.
Already halfway exasperated, Caroline searched the bag for a washcloth and then proceeded to slowly and carefully wipe all the saliva away from Klaus' face.
"Of course you would be an extremely messy baby," she sighed. "And I still need to feed you, this is just great. Although you could just be grumpy out of natural disposition, really," she mumbled to herself, reaching out for the bag once again. Baby Klaus was already way too fussy not to be hungry.
Turning the bag around and making its contents pour down on the couch with the hand that wasn't holding Klaus, Caroline quickly found a box full of baby food jars. She took one, together with a tiny spoon.
Looking baby Klaus over, she added, "Seems like your sister forgot to pack you a bib, but you should probably thank me were we to rid you of this ugly onesie. Maybe I should take a few pictures for future blackmail," she pondered out loud, slightly cocking her head to the side.
The baby seemed to frown at that, his chin trembling slightly, and, since the last thing that Caroline needed was for him to start crying, she quickly uncapped the jar and scooped some formula onto the plastic spoon.
Although he seemed initially hesitant—probably wondering if she was trying to poison him or something (old habits did die hard)—he quickly gave in and let her feed him quite uneventfully for a few minutes... well, until he decided that baby food was way more fun to throw at her than to eat.
She glared down at him (note to self: glaring at babies is not effective in any way whatsoever), trying to stop him from getting both of them even dirtier as he toothlessly giggled and started to get agitated all over again. Considering that his normal, hybrid self was used to maim and kill twenty-four/seven for fun, Caroline didn't doubt that the baby was going to get bored with everything they would do pretty quickly.
Right then and there, she made a mental note to smack adult-Klaus really hard right on the head as soon as he would be back.
Spending over half an hour changing baby Klaus into clean clothes and then swiftly getting a new shirt for herself as well, Caroline decided to try a different approach.
Sitting at the kitchen table with Klaus in her arms, she opened one of her many pink and fluffy notebooks in front of them, a variety of colored pencils perfectly lined up on one side.
Judging by how tiny and demanding he still was, baby Klaus was probably just around one year old, but he still was Klaus, after all, and Caroline figured that there was no harm in trying.
Rocking him slightly on her knees, she pointed towards the pencils.
"Why don't you choose one, mmh?"
The baby looked up at her with big, wide and confused eyes, not moving. He blinked and she sighed.
"All right, I'll choose for you."
(And, excuse you, but the fact that she ended up picking the medium blue one was completely accidental, okay?)
Taking Klaus' tiny right hand in hers, she arranged the pencil between his fingers and then moved it towards the blank page in front of them.
As soon as the colored tip touched the paper and marked it, baby Klaus squealed excitedly in surprise, wiggling around and starting to gurgle non-stop. Caroline couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. She would sooner stake herself than admit it to anybody else, but she found this version of the hybrid to be quite adorable and almost wished that she could keep him that way forever.
For less than a second, she wondered if, given a second chance, he would grow up to be the same kind of man (or non-man) that he was now, before shaking her head and realizing how silly she was being.
—"I intend to be your last."—
Even if she wasn't ready to take him up on that offer—promise—just yet, she already knew that, eventually, she would, that the day would come when she would inevitably show up on his doorstep, waiting to discover the whole wide world together with him, and she couldn't exactly do that if he remained a baby, or human for that matter. Although she wasn't quite sure what, exactly, he even was right now.
Refocusing her attention on the baby in her lap, happily flailing his arms around, she smiled. In his excitement, the pencil that they were using had been thrown all the way to the other side of the room, so Caroline quickly provided him with a new one, guiding his tiny, fisted hands around the page (although, second note to self: if a baby wants to quote-unquote-draw the least straight line possible on Earth towards the left instead than towards the right, he will).
Laughing and doodling away on page after page, they spent their afternoon in a mess of paper and colors, before baby Klaus eventually started to get sleepy. After all, he did have quite the eventful day and he hadn't napped once yet.
Carefully standing up from her chair, mindful of how delicate he currently was and not wanting to shake him up too much as she moved, Caroline lay down on the couch with him in her arms. Once settled, she started to slowly rock him back and forth while soothingly caressing down his back in the hope that he would fall asleep without troubles.
She watched in slight awe as his eyelids slowly started to close over his shining blue orbs, his eyelashes fluttering tiredly against the upper side of his red, chubby cheeks.
As the baby's breathing evened out and she protectively cuddled him closer to her, wrapping a long, woolen blanket around his tiny body, Caroline realized for the millionth time that, of all the human things that she might ever miss, having children was not going to be one.
Even before the supernatural had entered her life, she had always been incredibly success-driven (planner of every single event that their town had ever seen, chair of the Mystic Falls beautification committee, Miss Mystic Falls, and on and on the list went) and, maybe because she had never exactly had one herself, a family had never really been part of her plans.
Sure, children could love you unconditionally—her mom was the most important person in her life, after all—but, as her eyes trailed over the tiny bundle snuggled into her, she realized that, maybe, she already had that someone willing to cherish her forever in her life.
And, just maybe, she was going to let him.