Notes: On the plus side, this one's pretty much all Klaroline! Not really romantic yet, and it's maybe a touch more serious, then most of this story. But I thought it was kind of necessary, to move things along. The reviews for the last few chapters have been so nice! Really motivating me to finish this moving forward section, so thank you all!
Caroline: Age 24, Klaus: Age 30 (November)
"Of course you're out here. Alone. Brooding. In the dark. It's a little creepy, Klaus. I gotta be honest."
He smiles down into his glass, hearing Caroline's voice ring out from the patio doors. The click of her heels on the deck tells him she's coming closer. She shoves his shoulder, until he shifts over, and plops down next to him on the outdoor loveseat.
"Mother didn't hide the strong stuff as well as she thought," Klaus says, holding up the bottle he'd found hidden under the sink in the guest bath. "It's as if she thinks we can't be trusted to behave in a civilized manner."
"Gee, I wonder why?" Caroline replies sarcastically. "I mean, I'm highly entertained by you guys and your sneaky insults, but I'm used to it. Sage too, and Katherine's kind of scary, all on her own. But it's a bit much, for a mild mannered school teacher. I think your mom wanted to make a good impression."
"Mild mannered? Is that what you're going with?"
She knocks the side of his arm with her hand, "He was one of my very favorite teachers. So be nice. And I'm almost positive that my mother's done a thorough background check on him, and she still approves enough to ask me to work on you guys, so you can relax."
"Fine, fine," Klaus replies, heeding the gentle reprimand, while also idly wondering how he could get his hands on whatever information the sheriff had compiled. In truth, there truly was nothing overly offensive about the man his mother was seeing, and had decided to introduce to her children on this particular holiday. He was faring better then Klaus had expected, thrust into the chaos that occurred when all of his siblings were in the same room. It was just strange, and awkward, and Klaus wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it.
The mood inside was somewhat strained, with both Elijah and Finn doing their damnedest to be polite. Rebekah and Kol were snarky, like sharks circling injured prey, and Henrik more interested in the parade of hors d'oeuvres coming from the kitchen. Understandable, since the kid had been living on dorm room food. Klaus had kept mostly silent, content to observe, only adding commentary when he couldn't resist.
Caroline's presence had been a pleasant surprise. Klaus hadn't expected her to be in attendance at Thanksgiving dinner, had been shocked to open the front door of his mother's house and see her grinning on the other side, a stack of pie boxes in hand, and her friend Enzo in tow. Last he'd heard she was supposed to be spending it with her boyfriend, and his family, somewhere further south.
He might have gaped at her, for a few too many moments, which had caused Caroline to raise an eyebrow, and ask if he was ever going to let her in. He'd stepped aside, and she'd brushed past him, throwing a, 'Happy Thanksgiving, Klaus!' over her shoulder, before disappearing into the kitchen. He's heard Rebekah's raised voice exclaiming Caroline's name, shortly after, so he assumed that Caroline coming home had been a surprise to his sister as well.
Enzo had lingered, clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. "I've never actually done Thanksgiving before. But Gorgeous thought that a travesty, since I'm going on eight years here, bribed me with pies."
"There will be plenty of those," Klaus had told him. "Come on in, and I'll introduce you to the rest of my family."
"All eleventy billion of them? I can't wait."
Enzo had slotted in nicely, his charm smoothing a few awkward moments. He'd made small talk with Finn and Sage about their wedding plans, gave Elijah and Katherine advice about the renovations they were making to their D.C. apartment. He'd made an effort to include their mother's boyfriend, had coaxed stories about Caroline's high school self from her former teacher, citing his need for blackmail material. And through it all he'd pestered Rebekah, at every opportunity, until she'd been flustered and snapping at him, much to the room's general amusement. It was something that Klaus had noted was becoming a habit of Enzo's. One that both he and Kol were tolerant of, because it was entertaining, even if they were watchful of it becoming more.
Rebekah might be a grown woman, technically, and more than capable of eviscerating a suitor she wasn't interested in herself. But she was still their little sister.
Not that she'd ever see it that way.
Caroline leans over him, pulling him out of his thoughts, flicking on the space heater, rubbing her hands together. Klaus glances over, sees she'd not thought to grab a coat, and shrugs out of his suit jacket, handing it over to her. She takes it with a faint smile, wrapping it around herself before leaning back and following his gaze out into the empty backyard, "So, what are we doing out here? Contemplating the secrets of the universe? Plotting on how to murder poor Mr. Mitchell? That back corner looks like an excellent place to bury a body, don't you think?"
"I believe he said to call him Greg," Klaus points out.
Caroline makes a face, "Nope, can't. Too weird. Teachers don't have first names."
He sees her point. Mystic Falls is a small town, and run ins with his former teachers commonplace. He'd never quite been able to make himself address them familiarly. The man Esther was seeing, Gregory Mitchell taught music, at Mystic Falls High. And, since the only one of the Mikaelson siblings who'd had much of an aptitude for music was Elijah, (who'd stayed behind when they'd moved to America, having already completed secondary school) they'd never been the man's students. Which made things slightly less awkward, than they could have been otherwise.
But, even if he'd never been an authority figure to Klaus, that didn't mean he had to like he man.
Even if his mother did seem happier than she'd ever been before. It was possible that was just a natural reaction to finally being rid of the last teenager in the house, since Henrik had started university.
Klaus doesn't bother saying that out loud, knowing it's a weak justification that Caroline will not have. He attempts to steer the conversation away from what he'd assumed was her purpose on seeking him out, "Why the change of plans, sweetheart?" he questions. "Trouble with that boyfriend of yours?"
And it's not that Klaus is hopeful, that the answer will be yes, not really. He'd met Caroline's current paramour, when they'd come up to visit Rebekah over the last September long weekend. His name was Jesse, and they'd met at school, where he'd apparently been a classroom rival of Caroline's. She'd rejected his advances, at first, but Jesse had been persistent, according to the tales Klaus had heard. They'd seemed affectionate, and easy with one another, in a way that had made Klaus feel very, very single, and just a small bit sick to his stomach.
But Caroline's quick with a denial, and the soft smile that steals across her face convinces Klaus that she's not lying. "No, nothing like that. Jesse's great. Understood when I told him I was needed here. As it was all very last minute. I was mom-ed. Double mom-ed, actually. By yours and mine."
Klaus turns to her, curious about what that meant. "And what did they say, that made you change your plans?"
"Just that my insanely awesome buffer skills might be needed, over dinner."
"Buffer skills?"
"It seems your mother was nervous that certain people would take issue with the fact that she's, you know, actually trying to have a life. After raising a ridiculous number of children. Mostly on her own. That I might be helpful in convincing said children that it wasn't the end of the world, since I am the spectacularly well-adjusted child of divorced parents."
The look Caroline favors him with is pointed, and entirely unimpressed. Klaus refuses to squirm, but he does feel a small wave of guilt. He knows that she makes very good points, but their mother has never brought any sort of suitor around, in the seventeen years since Mikael had died, and Klaus isn't one to embrace change. Is it a crime, to need a moment to adjust?
Caroline seems to hesitate, and he hears her take a breath, before she speaks again, sounding uncertain, "Is it about your dad?" she asks gently. "Rebekah never talked about him, much. But she was super little, when you guys came here, I always figured she just didn't remember him very well. And Kol doesn't do sentimental. But you were older. Were you two close?"
The bark of laughter Klaus lets out is involuntary, and harsh sounding. He immediately feels bad, when Caroline recoils from it, the light pressure of her against his side receding. "Sorry," she stammers, sounding chagrined. "I didn't mean… you don't have to…"
He can see her fingers twisting together, anxiously, in her lap, and he tries to reassure her. "It's fine, love. Honestly. I was not at all close, to my mother's late husband. Who wasn't, as it turned out, actually my father."
Caroline stills, and he sees the gleam of her teeth, worrying her lower lip, as she processes the new information. "I didn't know that," she finally says slowly, stealing glances at him.
"Neither did I," Klaus tells her dryly, taking a sip of his drink. "Until I was 12." He rolls up his sleeve, turns his forearm over so that she can see a faint scar that runs up across his forearm. "Kol and I were playing with knives. And a watermelon, while mother was preoccupied with Henrik. I think he had an ear infection, was completely miserable. Sliced my arm open, quite nicely, blood went everywhere. Kol nearly fainted. Was taken to the hospital, needed stiches, all of that. Father realized, upon paging through my chart, that our blood types were entirely incompatible."
Caroline traces the faint white line that remains on his skin, her expression contemplative. He'd always wondered, if she knew this particular sordid bit of their family history, if Rebekah had confessed it at some point. He wouldn't have been surprised, as close as the pair of them had always been. Or even angry, despite the fact that he's never let a soul, outside of his family, in on the truth of his paternity. He trusts Caroline. Enough to tell her this, because he's confident in her loyalty, knows one skeleton, however large, won't change how she thinks of him, or of his mother.
"Is that why your parents were getting divorced?"
"No, not exactly. He was well aware of the affair my mother had had. They hit a rough patch, separated, for a few months. It's possible he always suspected I wasn't his son. But he got harsher, not that he was ever the doting type, when it was confirmed. Picked on everything I did. And then he hit me, when I brought home a less than stellar grade in a science course."
Caroline's hand wraps around his arm, and he catches a brief, black, look of anger on her face. "I've never been so glad that a person's dead before," she mutters tightly. She winces, once the words are out, "And I probably shouldn't have said that out loud."
Her hand drags down his arm, but Klaus catches her fingers, giving them a comforting squeeze, before they can leave his skin. "I'll not tell on you, I promise. And it was likely easier, on all of us, in the end. Things were just beginning to get messy, Mikael's lawyers aggressive, when he had that heart attack."
She tangled her fingers with his, and they sit in a silence more comfortable than it should be, with such a heavy topic. "Have you ever met your biological father?" she asks eventually.
"I haven't. Maybe someday. Mum has let me know that she's no qualms with telling me who he is, but I've never asked."
Caroline nods, in understanding. "Well," she drawls, "it's not like you don't have enough family around to make you crazy as it is."
Klaus chuckles, glad she's sensed his need to move on to lighter subjects. "Precisely. And you know better than anyone what a handful they are."
"It's true," Caroline says, nodding solemnly.
"Speaking of handfuls, do I need to have a talk with your dear friend Enzo, about his clear infatuation with my darling sister?"
Caroline snorts, "Please. That ship has sailed. Rebekah is totally into him too. She's just refusing to give in. It's fifty-fifty her being a snob about his job and not wanting to make things weird about admitting to wanting my roomie, and best male bud, after she practically made me sign an 'I won't sleep with Klaus, unless I really, really, mean it' vow in blood."
He tries not to react, to that new little piece of information, but it's difficult, because he'd like to know more. Has always been curious, about what exactly, Rebekah had said to Caroline about him. It'll eat at him, wondering what 'really, really mean it' would entail. Perhaps Caroline notices, guesses what he's thinking, because she drops his hand, crossing her legs and shifting over slightly. She lets out a giggle, a slightly nervous sound, "So I thought throwing Enzo into the mix would be a good idea. Wasn't sure if I was up to buffering you, Rebekah and Kol. Though Sage's talk of bridesmaid dresses is a stroke of genius. I thought Rebekah was going to have a meltdown when the words 'peach taffeta' came out of her mouth."
"She resisted stabbing Sage with her fork, however. So that's progress."
"Now that would have livened up dinner."
"Probably scared Gregory away too."
Caroline huffs, annoyed, and elbows him. "And you would have loved that, wouldn't you?"
Klaus doesn't know about loved. "It would have eased my mind considerably," he admits.
"Oh come on, Klaus. Don't be a dick. Your mom's a smart lady, and newsflash: still kind of a hottie."
Klaus grimaces, "I'm certain that statement's out of bounds, love. Definitely not something I needed to hear."
But Caroline's merciless, "Too bad, Klaus. Facts are facts. I'm sure there have been plenty of men sniffing around, over the years. And she's turned them all down, right? So she must like Mr. Mitchell, to risk all of you being brats, and making her feel guilty, about her trying to move on and do something for herself."
Klaus eyes her with interest, taken aback at her vehemence, "You seem very invested in this, sweetheart."
Caroline lets out an aggravated sigh, "I've been trying for years to get my mom to go on a date or two. I feel bad, that I'm so far away, and I honestly don't see myself living here, ever. I just don't want her to be lonely."
"You do realize that you've just spent the last half hour lecturing me on respecting my mother's choices, don't you?"
She makes a frustrated noise, her head tipping back against the chair, "Yes, I am well aware of the hypocrisy, thank you. I can't help it, I just…"
"Want everyone to be happy," Klaus finishes for her. "I know."
"Right. And I am 100% convinced that they would be, if they listened to me."
Klaus lets out a laugh, nudging her affectionately, "Of course you are. Tell you what, I'll indulge you, for a minute. Give me your best advice, oh all-knowing one."
She takes him rather more seriously, than he'd meant her to, her head rolling to face him, studying him intently for long moments. What she says, is not what he'd expected, "Are you happy, Klaus?"
He doesn't think anyone's ever asked him that, and never so bluntly, so Klaus finds himself giving the question some thought. He finds that his answer is neither a decisive yes nor a firm no, but something in between. Wonders what it would take to make it one or the other.
They're both startled, by the scrape of the door opening, Klaus somewhat relieved, as he's saved from articulating the thoughts that had begun swirling through his mind.
He doesn't even have to look over to know that it's Kol. Because whenever he and Caroline are alone, it's inevitable that Kol will pop up, and interject himself, into whatever moment they're sharing.
"Well, well, well, isn't this cozy?" Kol crows, striding over and planting his hands on the back of the seat he and Caroline are sharing. "Moonlight, close talking, liquor. Almost romantic, isn't it? Whatever would that boyfriend of yours say, Care-bear?"
Kol dodges the hand Caroline attempts to smack him with, "Shut up, Kol. What do you want?"
"Dessert, mostly. Mum said your attendance was mandatory. Though I wouldn't say no to a share of that bottle Niklaus was rude enough to find and hoard for himself."
Klaus passes it back, and Kol drinks deeply.
Caroline tuts disapprovingly as she stands, straightening her dress, "And things are peaceful inside? No one's entrails are extrails?"
"Nope," Kol says cheerfully. "Rebekah's talked Sage down from peach, and the despoiler of mother's is arguing with Elijah about opera, or something equally boring. Enzo's teaching Henrik how to count cards, while Finn looks ever so slightly more pinched than usual."
Caroline considers that, and shrugs, "Not great, but not as bad as it could be, I guess. And dessert can only make things better, right?" She smiles at them both, spinning on her heel and making for the door.
Kol waits for her to be out of earshot, "Why is it that all I can think, after that ever so optimistic statement, is 'Famous last words?'"
"Because you're a realist, brother," Klaus tells him, heaving himself to his feet. And maybe he should have gone a little easier on the bourbon, in the slight swaying he does, to find his balance, is any indication.
Kol snickers, "Never took you for a lightweight, Nik."
"I'm fine," Klaus insists.
"I'm sure you will be, after some more food. Just try not to say anything stupid in the meantime, alright?"
Klaus can't believe that Kol had the nerve to say that to him, with a straight face. "I'll manage," he says dryly. "Can you say the same?"
"I feel like I've been exceptionally well behaved this evening, actually. I've not gotten cozy with any blondes, unlike some people."
Klaus grits his teeth, forces himself to ignore the barb. Brushes past Kol, to head inside the house.
Where he'll attempt to make an effort, with this man his mother seems to fancy. Because it was the right thing to do, and because Caroline had come home, because she thought it was important. Klaus didn't want her to feel like she'd wasted the trip.
Besides, it couldn't hurt to get to know the man. Just in case he was the bad sort. It was only intelligent, to keep one's enemies close.
Next time: A wedding…