Idk what came over me writing this so fast. This is more of a characterization chapter than plot, and I got to write grams again who may be my fave character. Short but I kinda want to just roll with my instincts so here you go.
BTW - I was so excited at having three reviews on the last chapter. I know this story isn't the type to get a ton of reviews, and I'm really ok with that, but seeing three was like !? YAYASYAs. Thank you guys, really made my week. A thank you to the silent readers as well, it's really good to know that some people are continuing with this story.
More notes at end because I can't ever shut up.
Caroline closes her eyes to shut out the look on Bonnie's face. She understands it, of course, Caroline knows the weight of guilt and can recognize it in Bonnie's pulled brows, the glassy stare. But pity and shame aren't what she needs right now. She's very much aware of her sacrifice, but she would do it again in a heartbeat, and she just wishes everyone else could move on already.
She lets her irritation cover the ache her heart and excuses herself from the room, heading downstairs to try to find some quiet. She spots a door in the kitchen she's never noticed before, probably because it resembles the neighboring cabinetry and has no handle. But today she can see light limning the door and she pushes, hearing a click and feeling the door rebound into her hand.
The room inside is empty, carpeted unlike the rest of the house, thick plush carpet she feels her feet sink into. There are divots in the rug, equally spaced; something - several heavy things - tamped down the carpet at some point in time. She kneels down and scrabbles her hand along the floor, fluffing up the fibers in one of the indentations. It's quiet in here, the low hum of a fluorescent bulb the only accompaniment, and she finds herself lying down on the floor staring up at that bright light.
She thinks of time stretching out through the years, and how her mom will no longer have any of it. She thinks of her dad, and she wishes none of this was a choice because she's tired of others making it. She wants to shove vampire blood down her mom's throat and snap her neck and force her to drink when she wakes because then, then Caroline won't be so alone.
The thought flits across her mind that maybe she's better off staying here, and she feels sick that she even entertains it for a moment. But there's nothing much back there for her; she would miss Matt, and what her friendship with Elena used to be pre-Salvatores, but other than that? There's not much to be missed. There's no Bonnie with her now-familiar dry wit, no adorable Josh, no Abhi, no... Klaus. She's surprised at her thought, tries to take him off the list, but he's already there, and just try to unthink an idea.
Regardless, she has to go back, has to be with her mother as her life wanes. There is nowhere else that she could be.
Tired of angry, useless thoughts, Caroline lets the fluorescent hum lull her to sleep until the click of the door wakes her up hours later. Rebekah is leaning against the doorway, carriage somehow still impeccable even with the casualness of her pose.
"Not sure if you're done feeling sorry for yourself, but I don't really care. My flight to New Orleans leaves in a few hours. You're going to get up and go explore the city and enjoy what little time you have left here." She thrusts a pair of tickets at Caroline, who rises to standing and grabs them, confusion in her eyes.
"Like I'm supposed to go celebrate the fact that my mom's going to die?"
"Look, I don't have time for the whining, but if you look at it logically, you really didn't have many options. Without Bonnie alive, the spell she cast to bind you here can't be undone properly. You'd be worse off than you are now - stuck here, with the cure and no way to go back and actually use it."
Rebekah's voice turns soft for a moment. "For what it's worth, I respect your choice, even if the intent was stupidly noble."
Caroline snorts at this, then waves the tickets at Rebekah. "Why are you doing this? Why try to be...your version of nice to me now?"
Rebekah curls a hand around the door jamb, eyes taking Caroline's measure for a long moment before she responds.
"Because he's different with you," Rebekah says simply. With those words barely in the space between them, she slips out of the doorway, leaving Caroline to stand there, staring sightlessly at the tickets in her hand.
"Ooooh oooh I call the wingbacked chair now that Rebekah's gone!" Josh's eyes are alit as he races into the living room, landing in the chair after an impressive sock slide across the hardwood floor.
Bonnie shakes her head with a smile that's ragged at the edges. It doesn't go unnoticed.
"Bon - she's ok with it. She's out now, trying to have fun on some weird I-REALLY-don't-want-to-call-it-a-date-with-Klaus, but Rebekah forbade me from going with her. Anyways, you need to learn to be ok with this too."
"Are you serious? She sacrificed her only chance at her mom's cure for me. Don't even tell me you'd be ok with that sitting on your shoulders. There's no way, Josh." Bonnie sighs and bends over the coffee table, idly picking at some wax leftover from one of her castings. "I wish Grams were here."
"Well, you can talk to her. I installed Skype on her computer last time I was there, showed her how to use it." Josh's gaze skitters up and back down as he talks. Bonnie knows he's uncomfortable with her stern words, and loves him all the more for still trying.
"Wait - did you just say Grams has Skype? This I have to see." Bonnie throws the wax she's been playing with at Josh to get him to look at her, and her smile is real this time, growing bigger when she sees his eyes light up anew. He scrambles off the chair, words rushing out about getting his iPad from upstairs. He's back in a flash, tapping away at the screen in his hands before looking up and squinting at Bonnie. "What time is it over there, anyways?"
"12 hour difference, Grams will be up." Bonnie says as she scoots over on the chaise lounge, patting the seat beside her. Josh slides in and sits the tablet on the coffee table, angling it to face them as the call connects.
"Lord, that noise scared the bejesus out of me." One corner of Grams' head is visible in the screen and Bonnie giggles, tension already draining from her face at the first sounds of Grams' voice. "You almost just found out how computers react to hexes." The corner of her head moves a bit, springy dark curls tinged with grey. "Can't tell you how glad I am to see your face, girl. You had us all worried."
Bonnie's smile slides off her face. "Yeah, I'm still here."
Josh gives her a moment, interrupting with a "Hey Grams! Can I call you Grams? Sheila? That sounds weird. Can you just adopt me so I can call you Grams on the up-and-up? My grandma disowned me when I came out, which I didn't really mind because all I remember from visiting her was old people smell and butterscotch candies. Which I hate to this day, fyi. Oh, and move your camera, we can only see the top third of your head."
There's a shuffling noise and wheezing laughter as Grams' face comes into view, head shaking side-to-side in amusement. "Boy, you can call me Grams any time you like. But I know a distraction when I hear it. Now what's wrong?" Even through the computer screen Sheila Bennett's eyes seem to pierce and Bonnie leans down, combing her hair back with both hands.
"Caroline had to use the cure on me. You know, the one we came here to Delhi to help her find. The one we've fought demons for. The one she was going to use to cure her mom's cancer," Bonnie finishes with a mumble.
"So you're feeling guilty and moping around. I see. That doesn't sound like my granddaughter."
"What am I supposed to do? They didn't give me a choice!" Bonnie throws her hands up, frustrated.
"Oh so that's what you're focusing on. Girl, your guilt is clouding your brain. Let me see the cure." Grams lifts her chin at the screen, every inch a demanding queen. Josh is all flailing limbs for a moment before he shoots off the chaise, cartoon style, reappearing with the stone heart moments later.
"It's still warm," he comments as he sets it in Bonnie's lap.
"What's that glow?" Grams asks, squinting.
"What glow?" Bonnie and Josh ask as one, looking confusedly at the dull grey stone.
"I can see it plain as day, a dull pink light shining up. Josh, honey how do you do the screenwhatsit on this thing so I can show you?"
"Screenshot? OK, you see that button that looks like four loops? Should say command below it. Press that, and the shift key, and the number 4."
"Lord, child, slow down." They can see Grams looking down at the keyboard, a hand comes into view scanning across the keys. "Oh there, I see it."
A few minutes later Bonnie and Josh are staring, brows raised, back and forth between the screenshot Grams sent and the seemingly inert stone heart.
"Do you think it...just needs recharging? Like some weird heart battery?" Josh asks.
"That thing looks ancient, sounds it too from what you've told me. There's no way we can really judge, but if it were up to me I'd say it's still got some juice left in it." Grams looks up at Bonnie and pokes at the screen. "You never give up that easily, girl. Let this be a lesson learned."
Bonnie nods her head with a rueful smile. "Right as always, Grams. Thanks for pulling my head out of my ass." At Grams sharp look, Bonnie claps a hand over her mouth, mouthing a 'sorry!' behind it.
Klaus lurches as Caroline tugs at his hand, her grin impish and eyes dancing above the sadness for the moment. He holds her back for a moment with an outstretched arm, drinking her in with a singular intensity; eyes tracking her movements and noting the brief falter as their gazes catch. He likes these moments, when she reveals herself and something in her admits the pull they have towards each other. He thinks of the text he sent to Richa, questions he's asked Kol to research yesterday, about the boundary between worlds and if it can be kept open.
He'll pay dearly for asking, but the idea of letting her go at this point is simply unacceptable.
"Come onnnnnnn," we're going to miss it!"
Klaus pulls out of his reverie and follows along, relishing the feel of Caroline's warm hand in his.
They snake through the Delhi traffic, flashing past the BMWs of the Punjab traders and the billowing diesel smoke buses. The more expensive cars muscle their way through the traffic, lower-end models ceding defeat and pulling out of the way, a vehicular caste system.
Finally reaching the open space of the Jantar Mantar, Klaus scans the familiar architecture and draws breath to break the silence. Caroline lays a finger against his lips, shushing him.
"I'm sure you ate whoever built this and you wanna tell me all about it, but not now."
Klaus' eyes darken at her touch, and Caroline looks away nervously, trying to withdraw her hand. Klaus grasps her wrist and drags her index finger down over his lower lip, cants his neck to bring his mouth up to the back of her hand where he lets a whisper of a kiss linger. His eyes track her throughout, watching her swallow nervously with a satisfaction he can barely contain. Caroline is stubborn - he knows acknowledging her reaction to him in the moment will just make her dig in her heels more.
For now, he's fine with making sure there are lots of those moments for her to pretend to ignore.
"Come on then love, I thought we were in a rush?" He can't resist teasing. He has forgotten, maybe never even really known, how much fun it is. He feels like...well there's no way he remembers what it was like to be human, but he feels like what those drunken sods at Rousseau's look like, all flirting glances and hopeful eyes.
Caroline glares in response before turning away, clearly done with his teasing. She immediately begins bobbing up and down on her toes and races ahead a second later, an excited "oh my god, look!" filtering back to where he stands, an almost fond grin left in the wake of the whirlwind force that is Caroline Forbes.
Jantar Mantar's most evocative building rises up before them, the lavishness of the Misra Yantra's curves a backdrop to a group of musicians dressed in traditional garb. They pull their instruments close, nestled on either side of two stone archways that lead deeper into the structure, the sound of plucked strings tuning filling the air.
"It's some sort of Hindustani classical/modern fusion." Caroline says, reading from the ticket stubs.
She stands with Klaus on a swath of cracked pavement as a metallic droning noise begins to spiral up into the air, joined after a moment or two by a rhythmic tapping. Dancers emerge from the archways, their motions deliberate. Feet strike heel first, then toes down slap-slap, the arm extends an offering slow and smooth, the knee bends deep, the bells at the dancer's ankles sing.
Klaus watches her face and lets his smile curve with hers. Her face brightens as a violin sings above the drone and the dancers bloom across the pavement in front of the musicians, limbs reaching out, spreading in synchronicity. He sees the dance in his periphery, he sees it reflected in her eyes illuminated by the flickering torches set up around the perimeter.
Caroline turns to look at him, studying his face with a serious expression. "Why aren't you watching the dancers?" Her head swivels back to the performers. "They're amazing. So beautiful," she finishes with one quick glance back at him.
"Did you forget how much of an 'old man' I am?" Klaus teases lowly, eyes still on her face. "I've seen dance throughout the ages. You, however, are something altogether new." Caroline swallows awkwardly and her eyes dart about, still focused on the dancers. He watches her a moment more, but can tell he's making her nervous. Normally he'd be all for it - after all, it's that same power of control he's normally so fond of - but tonight it ruins the light that shines in her eyes. So he turns toward the performance and clasps his hands behind his back, smile playing at his lips.
A few minutes later, he feels her turn to study his own profile for a moment, and he lets a smile cut a satisfied dimple in his cheek, hears her scoff with irritation. The music wraps around him, the sitar singing its lament so foreign to Western ears. The torchlight flare creates hulking shadows of the dancers, and their silhouettes stretch up the walls of the Misra Yantra behind them, as if the gods the dancers portray have been summoned to act as their shadows.
There's definitely magic in the air enough for it, which is why Klaus truthfully isn't surprised at the low chanting he hears undercutting the music. He grabs Caroline by the arm, pulling her away from the crowd to her shocked complaint.
"There are witches here. Three guesses who they might be casting on?"
"But our cloaking charms-"
"- are not a failsafe. Magic can always beat magic. Come with me, let's see who dares to try to ambush the Original hybrid." Caroline barely has time to roll her eyes at this before they're speeding back behind the musicians. She hears the witches now, the melodic rise and fall of Hindi, the sound coming from a circular building that looks like pictures she's seen of Rome's Coliseum, arches circling the structure from top to bottom. Klaus pulls her in close to whisper fiercely at her ear. "There are six witches, just as many vamps mixed with wolves. Bodyguards. Follow my lead." He lets her go and she nods, shivering at the loss of warmth, an unbidden thought popping into her head before the urgency of the situation kicks it out.
She waits a moment, gaze searching the building for a signal from Klaus - she's not quite sure what to expect - then races forward as she hears the cadence falter with a wet, gurgling sound, the slow slide of something down the stone. She arrows into the building through one of the open slats, almost losing her balance when she sees the floor is not fully solid. It radiates with gaps like spokes from a large central column where the witches continue to chant, one space empty and one with a witch draped over a gap in the floor, legs disappearing below.
Caroline raises her head, gaze wild, blue-black spreading veins lending her eyes a sunken-in look. Her chest heaves with irrelevant breath, too close to her humanity still to lose the instinct spurring lungs to breathe deep, and she knifes a hand behind her, catching a vampire in the windpipe. He chokes out a scream and she takes him to the floor, her feet straddling one of the gaps. She punches downwards and the vampire catches it in a fist and twists, breaking her wrist. Caroline snarls and spins to her left, both feet on one of the slats. She bites back a snarl of pain as she twists her hand out her attacker's grip and slices downward with her left hand, cutting into the vamp's chest and tugging at the heart.
She looks up, eyes greeting chaos. Most of the witches are down, their chanting forever silenced. She sees Klaus snapping the neck of a werewolf who had sought to flank him. Her eyes are scanning the room for the remainder of the supernaturals when she feels a hand clamp on her upper arm, roughly spinning her. It's a wolf, if the growl deep in the chest is anything to go by. Caroline flinches back, her wrist still stinging from the earlier break, and she trips on one of the gaps, crying out at the pain as she falls through the floor and her damaged wrist dangles helplessly in the werewolf's grasp. He pulls her up with a grin and an extra twist, and pulls her close in a mockery of a dance. She sees the fangs descend just as a witch screams "No! She is not to be har-" The voice cuts off mid-sentence, Klaus ruthless in his killing efficiency.
Caroline can feel the werewolf pause and it's all she needs, catching her balance and bringing a swift knee up into his groin; stamping on his instep for good measure. He groans and lets her go and she punches upwards, hearing his neck snap from the blow with a sickening finality.
She feels surprisingly fine - there's no uncontrollably spinning moral compass this time, just a sense of solemnity for the loss of life. She cocks her head to the side, considering.
Self-defense is self-defense, and Caroline realizes that somehow over time she has actually become someone that truly values her own non-life. She wonders if this is the first step, if this is what leads to that desensitization to life she talked about with Bonnie and Josh, then shakes her head to clear her thoughts. The least she could do was not be self-absorbed when honoring the dead.
Wiping her fingers clean of blood, she bends down to gently lower the wolf's eyelids.
Idk if they actually have concerts at Jantar Mantar, but they totally should. It's a super cool looking series of buildings originally built to perform astrological calculations in 1724. Totally on the list if I ever get to India. I def recommend googling to look at pics. The heart-shaped building is the one the musicians played in front of, with the dancers coming through the arches.
ALSO DID YOU SEE THE COVER?! HUGE thanks to mrsagentcooper for being her awesome self.