I wrote this chapter back in November, long before I was aware of the current TVD story-line involving Liz Forbes. I can't say I'm sorry about that.
She was in Berlin when she got the call.
Touring Europe was fun; Germany was beautiful. She'd eaten her share of sausages, roamed cobbled streets, walked through amazing museums and parks; squeezed into packed regional trains. She'd loved Cologne, Munich and now, Berlin. She'd walked through churches, Residencies and castles.
The history of Berlin left her winded.
She wondered what it had been like to live through some of it. Her grandparents had died before she'd ever been interested. She taken an unnecessary number of history classes in college, but this was different.
She supposed she could call Rebekah. The blonde original always had one or two bitingly funny comments about historical events. And since Rebekah had invited herself along on Caroline's last three trips, she'd had ample opportunity to hear her commentary.
Barcelona had changed things. Her talk with Bonnie. Caroline didn't know exactly how it had altered the invisible path she walked, but she could feel it sometimes. Saw it, in that narrow-eyed way the Rebekah watched her.
She hadn't been given details on what happened to Tyler; Rebekah simply said he still lived. Per her request. Caroline hadn't asked anything else; part of her understood Rebekah's expression. Knew whatever life Tyler lived, it wasn't living. She was still coming to grips with that.
She'd never even heard another vampire whisper that Kol lived. But if Bonnie said she'd brought Kol back, then he was alive somewhere. Sometimes she worried about that - the Kol from Mystic Falls had been erratic - but most of the time, she refused to. He wasn't her responsibility and what would she do? She'd saved the world once. Taking responsibility for everyone else's problems was Stephan's thing.
There were other, more pressing matters, anyway - Bonnie had magic; Klaus had left New Orleans; and, her mom was finally considering retiring. Just the thought made her beam. In the bottom of her suitcase there was a list. A secret, hopeful thing that was crumpled and wrinkled with age.
It was those few, treasured places Caroline wanted to take her mom. Places she was waiting to see. She wasn't ready to tell her Mom about that list, yet. It'd become something personal and it wasn't finished yet. After Barcelona, dragging Sheriff Liz Forbes out of Mystic Falls was like shifting a mountain.
But she was making progress.
"Are you just being stubborn at this point, or was staying at the Villa really that traumatic? Personally, I liked the pool and my bed was amazingly comfortable."
Liz sighed into the phone. "Caroline. It was like staying at the Devil's Resort."
"True." She admitted. "But it was comfortable."
And safe. And that was more important. Which her Mom had understood or they'd have never gone.
"You'd hardly expect anything less." Her mom had groused. "Easier to temp someone with marble bathrooms and silk sheets."
"Mom!"
"I'm old, not blind. Or stupid."
Caroline rolled her eyes. "Forbes woman are never stupid. And seriously, why this sudden concern? I'd told you what happened and you agreed."
"I worry." Liz murmured into the phone. "We live in a world with monsters, baby. I know you can take care of yourself but some things... I just worry."
Her mom was right and wrong. The world was filled with monsters and she'd finally - mostly - accepted the truth. She was a monster. But being a monster was something else. It wasn't about letting her inner-vampire loose or reigning it in. It wasn't about blood or even about killing. It was compromise, it was acceptance and it was boundaries. And a soul-deep knowing that those things were always going to change.
And Klaus... he was her own personal temptation. She hadn't forgotten what he was capable of destroying. But she'd started... she'd seen what he was capable of building. Knew part of it was his doing - his villa in Barcelona; Rebekah dragging her into remote, amazing places - the rest were consequences of living in his world. As a vampire. She'd once accused her family of being like a cult and Rebecca had laughed.
"We're responsible for every vampire in existence. You're either for us or against us. You should be less interesting if you want us to go away."
It was kind of nice, having Rebekah as a friend. Even if Rebekah made Klaus' temper seem controlled at times. She was spiteful, petty and unfailing snobbish. But there was a vulnerability there, one she begrudgingly showed and got bitchy about later. And her balls-out attitude was admirable if amazingly irritating.
But she always answered Caroline's phone calls. Showed up in all the random ass, small towns and snubbed Caroline's choices and forced her to make new ones. And she seemed to generally care - outside of whatever started the weird girl-bonding. Caroline had never called Rebekah on it, had never asked, but she didn't doubt that Klaus was responsible for that first meeting.
Sometimes she wondered what Klaus thought of that, if he even cared that she was friends with his sister and then she pushed that thought aside. She had another couple of decades - or more, really; she'd shove vampire blood down her mom's throat if she had to - before she'd worry about Klaus.
So when her cell rang with a number she didn't recognize, Caroline answered it without worrying. Rebekah changed her number frequently, and took great pleasure in calling Caroline to gossip. Bonnie was off doing something witchy - she'd carefully not mentioned for who - and she might've destroyed another phone.
"I just updated your contact card. You seriously just changed it again?"
"Living it up, Barbie? Enjoying yourself?"
Caroline stopped walking, no longer paying attention to her surroundings. The glorious park around her disappeared in an instant. Instead, she scowled into the phone and tried not to worry.
"I'm pretty sure I told Mom not to give you my new number. And Elena hasn't asked for it. We both know Bonnie would rather light you on fire. What do you want, Damon?"
There was a pause. And that pause left her heart hammering. "Damon?"
"I'm sorry, Caroline." His voice was odd, muted. "Liz is gone."
The world went sidewise. Shuddering at the sudden, terrible vortex in her chest, she blinked slowly. "Gone?"
"There was a robbery. Some out of town kid, held up the grill. She was picking up lunch for the station." Damon paused. "I didn't get their fast enough."
Gone. Gone. Gone. Dead. What was left of her world spun under her feet. She shook, chest heaving for air she didn't need.
What did she say? How...
"Thank you for telling me." The words were flat, automatic. Mom. Mommy. Oh God, Mom.
Another pause. Then roughly, "that's it? No more questions? She was your mother, Barbie. You can at least care enough to come home and plan her funeral."
Caroline nodded again, feet moving into the tree line of the park. "Sure. Thanks. I'll call later."
She sat blindly once she was no longer visible and watched her hands shake. Something terrible was sitting in her chest and she didn't know how to handle it. Too much. This was too much and if she cracked an inch, she was going get sucked into the vortex; then rage and ash and blood would all that was left.
Picking up her phone, she fumbled with it twice before she got her contacts open. Swallowing, she dialed half-blind. She took another slow, even breath and tried not to think.
Not yet.
"What?" The impatient voice cut through the line and for a moment, she could think.
"This is Rebekah's number." Her lips felt numb and her voice cracked. She found her breath heaving without her permission; that suddenly her composure disappeared. Her phone slipped through her fingers and she knotted them tightly, staring blindly at green grass.
"Caroline? Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
Too much, too much. Pressing her face to her knees, she struggled with the monster in her chest. She thought she might've been crying, but she couldn't hear herself over the rushing in her ears. She grappled for something, anything to hold onto and slowly became aware of Klaus talking. She had no idea what he was saying, but the familiarity of his voice helped.
Finally, slowly she came back into her own skin. She'd fallen on her side and curled up on the grass like a child. Blinking past the tears that clouded her vision, she felt exhausted and numb.
"Klaus?" Her voice was a thread of sound, and for a moment she dreaded the inevitable silence as she found herself alone.
"Caroline," his voice was harsh, rough in ways she hadn't heard before. "I need to know where you are. Rebekah says Europe. Did you make it to Germany yet? I can't hear anyone in the background."
"She gave me your number." She said slowly. "Said it was hers. Why?"
"You can yell at her in person. Where are you?" Klaus voice was slightly cajoling, a little like iron.
"My mom died." Caroline ignored the heave of air across the phone. "Damon called. I talked to her this morning. Someone killed my mom."
Everyday. She called her mom every day. Had set up a Skype phone so she could call as cheaply as possible. Now...
"I'll have your location when I land." He said, and she heard the sounds of car doors shutting moving. "Are you at a hotel?"
"Outside." She touched her daylight ring, fisted her hand instead. No. Carefully, she reached for her phone instead and looked at the screen. She'd been on the phone for nearly forty minutes.
"I need to call Damon back." Her mom deserved a nice funeral. How much did those cost? She couldn't think.
She hadn't planned for this. Hadn't needed too. Not yet. Not yet.
"Don't worry about Damon." The ice in his voice should've worried her. Instead, she curled into herself and tried to stop the heaving in her gut, that endless wrenching in her chest. Pressing her fingers to her face, she realized she was crying again.
"Rebekah is going to deal with the situation until you arrive. Take careful, even breaths, Caroline. I'll be there soon."
Caroline nodded, and just tried to breath. The monster under her skin felt hot to the touch, the veins under her eyes pressing against her fingers. The struggle was terrible and it was only the knowledge that her mom would hate it that allowed her to leash her rage.
When she opened her eyes again, her phone was dead and it was dark. Slowly, gingerly she sat up. Her chest hurt. She had no idea what time it was or how long she'd sat, wrestling her grief.
Everything ached.
She picked up her phone, paused. Klaus. She'd called Klaus. No. She'd called Rebekah and Klaus had answered. Slowly, she starting walking back to her hotel.
Switching phone numbers was a practical joke that would have been a minor annoyance. She might've even talked to him. Seen if Klaus would try to follow up later with a call before she changed her number. Her lips trembled and she bit down hard. And instead, he'd listened while she fell apart. Shattered with grief that still sat in her chest a violent, tangible weight.
Klaus who was now on his way here.
She couldn't find it in her to care. She didn't think she'd turned anything off - her chest hurt to much. But she wasn't processing either; she felt numb.
Caroline stopped outside her hotel and just... looked at it. She'd wanted to bring her mom here. Had refused to send pictures, had demanded her mom take a few vacation days and join her. And spent half an hour teasing and demanding.
Retire. Travel. Relax.
Dead. Killed by a human boy. Murdered.
Hot rage boiled up, ignited the vortex in her chest and for a single human heartbeat she wavered under the weight of it. Footsteps, loud voices and laughter taunted her; the monster under her skin flared to life as she spun.
She hit a solid chest, and arms like bands folded around her. Heat pressed against her on all sides, and she shoved against it. She wanted to rend and burn. Not comfort.
"Shhh, sweetheart. I've got you." Klaus held her, rocking slightly. "You're safe. It's okay to let go now. You didn't hurt anyone."
Fingers digging into his back, she shook. She wanted to rip and tear until the hole in her chest wasn't so empty, until the world burned. But no matter how hard she struggled, her fingers clutched at him and she couldn't break his hold.
It was impossible to hold that kind of rage forever, and it burned to coals. Slowly, ever so slowly she relaxed into Klaus and let herself cry instead. His hands moved to her hair, to her hip and she didn't know the language he murmured at her temple, but it didn't matter.
She didn't want to move.
His shirt was wet under her cheek.
She gave herself a moment to breathe him in, to accept the comfort he was offering her. Finding the strength to pull the tatters of her emotions together took two tries. Shifting slightly, she sighed heavily when he refused to budge.
"I'm okay." She murmured. "You can let go."
"No."
But he stepped back enough to see her face, hands settling on her shoulders. His eyes moved over her features, and he nodded. "How much do you have with you?"
"A bag. A suitcase." She let her eyes close. "It was supposed to be short trip."
Warm hands cupped her face. "Someone will get them for you. I have blood bags on the plane, you need to eat. Then I'll take you home."
Caroline blinked her eyes open. "My home's gone."
Now what? How did she do this? Orphan. She was an orphan decades early and she wasn't ready. Her center of gravity was gone and she was reeling.
His thumbs brushed her cheeks. "Then you can stay with me while you find a new one."
She blinked sticky lashes open and looked at him. He was furious, but the way his hands cradled her face told her the fury wasn't at her. For her? She fisted her hands in his shirt, desperate for what he was offering, but not quite willing to take it. But he'd flown from... somewhere. For her.
So she followed where he led.
The flight to Virginia was quiet. She fell asleep somewhere over the ocean after two blood bags, and woke on the double bed in the back. Klaus had taken off her shoes and tucked her in. Everything smelled like him. So she laid there - wrapped in blankets and the scent of him, mind numb and exhaustion deep in her bones. She drifted off the second time to the sound of sketching. He woke her when they landed. Setting a blood bag in her hands, he disappeared to make arrangements.
She let him.
She let him tuck her into a car, let him drive without comment on his choice of music or car. Watched him sit in the driver's seat and visibly worry. She felt like a passenger in her own skin, but she found she couldn't let him.
Face pressed against the glass of the window, Caroline sighed. "I'm not going to turn it off."
The leather under Klaus' hands creaked. "You'd already have, if that was your intention."
She ran her thumb along her daylight ring. "My mom doesn't deserve that. For me to push it aside and to forget. She is worth hurting over."
If she could figure out how not to let it swallow her. How to not get sucked into the rage. She blinked rapidly, not willing to cry again. Not yet.
"The people we love always are."
She tilted her head, looked at him. Klaus didn't look tired, but the set of his jaw told her he was still angry. Her fingers twitched with the need to brush against the corners of his mouth, to assure him she was alright. Caroline wondered what it meant that nearly twenty years had passed and none of the draw between them had lessened. It shimmered between them, muted only by her grief.
"I'm sorry you had to come get me."
The car jerked at the speed that he braked. Klaus turned to face her, eyes narrowed. "That's not something you need to apologize for."
Caroline sat up, pushed her hair out of her face. She'd usually be embarrassed about her appearance, but she hadn't worked up that much caring yet. "Why not?"
She'd fallen apart. She was still falling apart. She supposed he could have hung up; left her to her breakdown. Instead he'd gotten on a private plane and fetched her. Stopped her from hurting someone. Anyone. Herself.
"Why'd you call Rebekah?"
Caroline frowned at him. "Apparently I called you."
He reached out, pushed her hair away from her face. "I'm grateful. But why?"
Because Rebekah always answered. Because Rebekah might've bitched, might have handled things in ways that Caroline would never have dreamed as acceptable, but Rebekah would've answered.
She shook her head. "It made sense then."
Because Damon got her number from somewhere. Stefan? Elena hadn't called her. Bonnie might not know yet. How did she tell someone that? She just... couldn't.
Klaus didn't push. He turned the car back on and pulled back onto the road. Caroline leaned against the window and let herself drift. Her mom was dead. She'd have to figure out how to process that. She would. Maybe tomorrow.
Damon had called her. Anger pulsed in her chest. She knew Liz and Damon's friendship hadn't been the same since she told her mom about that relationship - without admitting to the abuse. But he'd sounded torn up anyway. She decided right then that she didn't care. She got to be selfish.
Liz was her mom.
She wondered what arrangements Rebekah had... Rebekah. Wait. Caroline sat up. Looked at Klaus.
"Did you say Rebekah was already in Mystic Falls?"
"I believe Elijah went with her."
Caroline stared at him. He glanced over, mouth tugging up in one corner. Her stomach flipped at the expression behind his eyes, the desire and possessiveness she hadn't see in sixteen years. The softer, terrifying emotion she refused to name. All there. Studying her with blatant familiarity.
"You called us, sweetheart."
She didn't regret it. Not even when she knew that door she'd kept firmly closed was now cracked. Because he was here with her, driving her to her mother's funeral and acting like nothing had changed between them. He'd take advantage of any opening she gave him this weekend, but he was here...
She swallowed. "Thank you."
A quick glance in her direction. A softening of the brutal line of his jaw. "You're welcome, love."
Caroline looked back out the widow, but she didn't see anything. She was too busy wrestling with the realization that when Klaus had told her that he'd wait, he'd meant it. Until that moment, she hadn't realized she hadn't really believed him. Oh, he'd put her first. Had dealt with Tyler, had willingly explained himself when she'd asked. But those things had also worked in his favor.
Flying to Berlin to find her before she broke completely under her grief wasn't completely unselfish, but he could have just as easily found her later, gained her favor by picking up the pieces. Instead, he'd refuse to let her break at all.
'You're safe. It's okay to let go now. You didn't hurt anyone.'
She swallowed. That was the second time he'd told her she was safe with him. This time, she'd believed him.
That didn't terrify her as much as it should've.
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