A/N Dark and angsty. One of the things I love about writing is that I can change things I can't in the real world. This drabble is about me and how I wish things could have been. I actually debated about posting it because I know it won't be popular. A couple of my friends pushed me to put it out there in case someone can relate, and they reminded me I have to write for myself. I love turning Klaus from a monster into a man and having Caroline fall in love with that man, but that isn't really how it works. At least, it hasn't with my monsters. I wrote this for myself and I'm ok with it if you choose to skip it. I have many happier drabbles to come. If you do decide to give it a chance, and don't hate me at the end, I'd love to hear what you thought.

He Keeps Her in the Dark

"He knew himself a villain – but he deem'd the rest no better than the thing he seem'd; and scorn'd the best as hypocrites who hid those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. He knew himself detested, but he knew the hearts that loath'd him crouch'd and dreaded too. Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike, exempt from all affection, and from all contempt." Lord Byron

Klaus eyed her as she stood at the edge of her stone balcony. Caroline was still as ravishing as she was when he'd stolen her more than a decade ago. Well, not stolen. Acquired. She'd begged him not to kill Tyler. He wasn't a man of mercy. However, he was a man of opportunity. He'd seen a chance to have her as his own and he'd taken it. Come with him. Be his. Tyler could remain alive in Mystic Falls and they would leave her tiny town forever. Everyone had told her not to do it, but what choice did she have? Klaus Mikaelson was a man who got what he wanted, one way or another, and he wanted her. She supposed it was always just a matter of time, so she'd agreed. He'd been delighted.

It hadn't lasted.

The first few years had been a constant battle of wills. It was exhilarating, the rush born of her defiance as he tried to tame her. It hadn't lasted. In the beginning, she'd had a lot of freedom. The longer they were together, the more control he took away from her in his desperation. She could come and go as she pleased, provided she didn't go far, and wore a locator pendant. She'd stay gone all day and come back late at night. He didn't like that. He'd warned her one too many times not to stay out after dark. She hadn't obeyed. That was the end of that. Her phone was the next to go. Then, the laptop, followed by the tablet. Eventually, he'd even taken away her TV. Admittedly, that had been petty. She was allowed to have books, but only those of his choosing. He bought her the finest collectibles money could buy. She'd read them once and toss them in a pile.

Perhaps expensive books hadn't been the way to go. Women liked designer clothing and fine jewelry, right? He'd filled her closet with everything imaginable. She'd thrown his bracelet back in his face and had continued to wear her same outfits from back home. Well, that wouldn't do. He'd told her this was her home now. She could wear what he set out for her or she could wear nothing. The first time she'd reluctantly put on a dress he'd selected, he'd had everything not to his liking removed. That included everything he didn't pick out himself. He liked her in fine silks and cashmere and lacy lingerie.

Not that he saw her in lingerie back then. There were some lines even he wouldn't cross. Of course, if he'd known eleven years ago that she'd hold out this long, he may have spent less time trying to make her love him than just enjoy having sex with him. He'd assumed he would make her love him and she'd beg him to take her. That hadn't happened. So, he took what he could get. He waited while she showered and watched her dress. She'd fought like hell the first time she'd come out of the bathroom and found him leaning against the wall with a smug grin.

That was the end of letting her have hardcovers.

After she'd lobbed a copy of Tess of the d'Urbervilles at his head, he'd pinned her against the wall and told her if she ever tried that again, she'd regret it. She'd screamed at him to go ahead and kill her. It was better than spending one more second with him. He'd been shocked when he'd realized she was serious. He'd venomously reminded her that Tyler's life, and all of her loved one's lives, were contingent upon their deal. If she died, the deal was void, and he could kill whoever the hell he wanted. That was the first time he saw her cry.

He hated seeing her cry.

She'd furiously wiped away her tears as she dressed in front of him for the first time. True to his word, he hadn't touched her. Only watched as she slipped into the tiny dress he'd selected. Then, he'd locked her in her room for the day and told her they would try again tomorrow. Her parting words had been that even Thomas Hardy had the mercy to kill off his protagonist. If anyone had told her Klaus cried that night, she wouldn't have believed it. He was a man devoid of humanity, incapable of mercy. The next morning, she'd done it without complaint, but the look of pure hatred she gave him was scorching. Again, he locked her up and told her they'd try again. Upon hearing her protestations, he told he didn't just want her to do as he said, he wanted her to do it without the attitude. At the end of week, he'd decided she'd passed his little test. She hadn't, really, but he'd begun to suspect that she was doing it on purpose to avoid spending time with him. That was not acceptable.

Klaus grew more and more desperate for her affection as time marched on. Perhaps kindness was the way to go. He'd tried to charm her day and night. Showered her with compliments and affection. Taken her to cities all over the world, as he'd once promised. It hadn't fooled her. She still refused to even consider a basic friendship with him. Trust was earned, she'd said. Friendship was a privilege, not a right, she'd said. Love was not for sale, she'd said. He'd said obedience was not an option. She'd told him to get the fuck out of her room. That was the first night he'd punished her.

He'd wanted her as his partner. If he couldn't have that, a slave would have to do. Slaves grew to love their masters, right? He'd read about it in books. Of course, it hadn't worked with Stefan. He didn't have any logical reason to believe it would with Caroline. If he thought about it too closely, he knew he'd never seen it in his thousand years. So, he simply didn't think about it. He was a man of action, not introspection. He'd hit her. Spanked her. Paddled her. Hard. She'd kicked and screamed the entire time. It hadn't worked. Of course, it had taken him the better part of a year to figure that out. Fortunately, her body healed quickly. Her mind? Not so much.

The hybrid's next idea involved grounding her like an errant child caught drinking stale beer in the woods after curfew. Locking her away in this gothic mansion by the sea overlooking rocky cliffs was similarly ineffective. Sure, she'd complied with small orders, which actually constituted about 95% of their time together but only because there was no reason to push when it didn't matter.

She wasn't suicidal.

Yet.

After a year in the mansion, he finally lost control. He was a very physical person. He loved touching her as much and as often as he could get away with. Over time, she had largely stopped fighting every small brush of skin on skin. Back then, she still sat straight as a board when he'd throw an arm around her on the couch or when he pulled her into his lap. Once in a while, he'd catch her off guard and she'd scream at him, but she knew better than to actually retaliate. One day she forgot. He'd snuck up behind her and pulled her against his chest while she was making breakfast. He held her in his arms all the time, but since she hadn't seen him coming, she acted on instinct. Her gut reaction was to sling the cast iron skillet at his head, scalding him with bubbling bacon and eggs.

That had not ended well for her.

Klaus bit her. He didn't even think about it. His skin hadn't even regrown from where the grease had sloughed it off before his fangs were buried deep in her neck. He managed to restrain himself from making it hurt too much, but his bite still carried the venom of a werewolf. Two days passed before he finally relented and fed her his blood, not that she'd asked for it. At least, not at first.

Caroline hadn't wanted it.

The fading blonde had told him to just let her die. No, that wasn't what she really wanted, she'd said. She wanted to be free. If death was the only way, she'd take it. His voice was evil when he'd reminded her that her death nullified their deal. She'd told him he wasn't going to let her die, so what did it matter what she wanted anyway? He said it didn't, but that he would be merciful if she begged him for it. She'd not-so-politely informed him that biting her precluded mercy. He'd mercilessly reminded her that there were things yet he could take. Even after a thinly veiled threat to keep her naked and chained, she'd refused. He'd shrugged and walked out of her room for over a day. Her smile was triumphant when he finally returned. She'd been convinced he wouldn't truly let anything happen to her.

She knew she was his greatest weakness.

The Original couldn't have that. His smile hadn't reached his eyes when he told her she was too far gone for his blood to heal her. It was a lie, but she didn't know that. That was the first time he'd seen her truly afraid.

Klaus hated seeing her afraid.

He'd learned to deal with seeing hatred painted all over her beautiful face, but fear? That was far worse. Instinct told him to heal her on the spot just to get that look out of her eyes. Unfortunately, his ego often overrode his instincts. His Caroline wasn't afraid to die herself. She was afraid for those she loved to die. He wasn't among them. That realization had infuriated him so deeply that he nearly did let the venom take her. It wasn't until she was minutes away from death that he'd offered her a new deal. Stop fighting. Submit to him. Do everything he said without the attitude. She'd refused on the grounds that he clearly wouldn't let her die.

Well, she had him there.

The vivacious blonde had always been able to see right through his façade. He was in love with her and she knew it. At least, that was what he thought. She knew he wasn't capable of real love. Real love didn't involve force or coercion or blackmail. If he truly loved her, he would let her go. She'd said it before, but that day she didn't. There was no point. Had never been.

That day, Klaus confessed that she was right. He wouldn't, couldn't, let her die... but he could always bite her again. Perhaps one day he would really lose control and his venom would overpower his ability to heal her. What would happen to her friends then? She'd cried again that day. A few tears slid down her cheek before she sniffled and opened her bloodshot eyes. An infinitesimal nod of her head had sealed their new deal. She agreed to obey him in all things, always and forever. While he was getting his way, he was still furious that her reasoning was to save a man who was not him. He'd petulantly warned her that it was one last chance.

She could read between the lines on that one.

Her captor wasn't saying that it was her last chance to survive. He was saying it was Tyler's. If she disobeyed again, if she fought him, stood up to him in anyway, her former lover would be dead. It should have nullified their deal, but Klaus wasn't a man who played fair. He didn't say it. He didn't have to. Once Tyler was gone, he'd just start moving down the list until everyone she'd ever known was dead. He had her and she knew it. She'd stupidly pointed that out. His next word chilled her to the very heart he'd tried so hard to warm.

Compulsion.

Klaus told her if she disobeyed again, he would compel her to do so. She was terrified to lose her friends and mother, but she was more terrified to lose herself. If he compelled her, she would be truly at his mercy. She would do anything for him... and she'd like it. All because he said so. Her captor never knew what Damon had done to her, but she couldn't forget. Perhaps if he had, he would have known her love couldn't be forced. That all of this was bound to end in hatred. Perhaps he never would have taken things so far. Perhaps she'd never know. She had only one choice: obey. She'd sealed her fate the second his blood hit her lips.

Caroline never defied him again.

Klaus loved it. His little blonde distraction did everything he said perfectly and without complaint. If he said come sit on his lap, she came to him. If he told her to let her body relax against him so he could gently stroke her hair or rub tiny circles on her thigh with the soft pad of his thumb, she relaxed. If he said put on this dress, she stripped without a word. He liked that part a lot. Her clothes had gotten smaller and smaller over the years. Half the time, he kept her barefoot in lacy panties and sheer camisoles that concealed nothing. That was when he'd started painting her.

At first, she'd burned a hole in his heart with the hatred in her eyes. As the years went on, that light began to dim. She lost her appetite. As a vampire, she didn't need actual food to survive. He'd taken away her meal privileges every time he'd locked her in her room for bad behavior. While it would hurt and she'd be drained of all energy, they both knew it wouldn't kill her to go hungry... but if she didn't drink enough blood? She would desiccate. She hadn't cared too much when she felt her afterlife slowly depleting. It wasn't that she was trying to die. She just wasn't trying to live. It had taken him a while to notice how grey she was getting.

Caroline had been posing in the nude for several hours as he painted her the first time she'd collapsed. He was furious with her for not taking better care of herself, but he was even more livid with himself for failing to notice. He was so delighted that she was finally doing as he said that he hadn't been paying attention to the slow and agonizing death of her inner light. He'd informed her he was taking control of her diet. It had been one of her few remaining freedoms. Losing it came as a blow. She was to eat every single bite and drink every last drop he served her or else. She hadn't fought him on it. She simply just obeyed. As her depression worsened, human food began to feel like sandpaper in her mouth, but she forced it down day after day to appease her jailer.

Even though she'd never given him to cause to doubt her word, he began insisting on knowing her whereabouts every second of the day. He'd said it was to assure that she didn't do anything to hurt herself. Really, it hurt him to be away from her. He made her ask permission every time she needed to use the bathroom, or sit outside, or leave his company at all. He never once denied her, but when she did, he followed her. He'd even gone as far as to attach a leash to the loops on the back of her cupless harness bras. He liked being able to see her breasts, convinced as he was that one day she would give in to his advances. She'd simply stood there when he'd hooked the metal chain to her mid-back. He'd warned her that if she disobeyed, or tried to take it off, it would be a dog collar. She didn't like that idea. Since she hadn't been planning to disobey anyway, complying with his insanity hadn't mattered. Very little continued to matter. Eventually, he had relented on the leash, though he frequently reminded her it was an option if she looked at him the wrong way.

Caroline never looked at him the wrong way. She barely looked at him at all, unless of course he instructed her to do so. She followed his instructions. She obeyed. She was perfect. And she was his. Everything about her drew him in, but now that he had her, the distance between them had never felt so wide. He watched her for several minutes in silence. Took note of the way she stared into the night, at the jagged rocks down below. She was quiet. She didn't fight him anymore. Did as he said. Existed for him. It was what he wanted, wasn't it? Looking at her standing there, he finally knew what she was thinking. Perfect clarity chilled him to the bone as he truly saw what he'd done to her. Her heart used to race when he came up behind her. It didn't now. It drummed a slow and steady rhythm.

She wasn't afraid of him. It should have delighted him. It didn't.

It was terrifying.

His precious pearl wasn't afraid because she wasn't anything. She wasn't even Caroline. She'd become a shell of herself. When they'd met, she'd been a hurricane, a force to be reckoned with. As he watched her from mere inches away, she was just a gust of wind. She didn't even flinch when he rested his palm against the small of her back. The luxurious turquoise silk barely-there dress he'd wrapped her in was soft beneath his skin, but he recoiled as if he'd been burned when she simply stood there. No matter what he did, she didn't react. Her eyes, once sparkling sapphire, were now a dull mist as she focused on something far in the distance.

"You're thinking about jumping." It wasn't a question.

"You'd catch me." It wasn't a denial.

With perfect clarity, it finally dawned on him in the black of night: the stars can't shine without the sun. He had tried to lasso the moon and he had failed. Her submission should have been his greatest victory. It was his worst defeat.

"And if I wouldn't?" he asked cautiously, clasping his hands behind his back to keep himself from reaching out for her. She was right there. She wasn't there. She was gone and she'd never been his. She would never be his.

"Then I'd hate myself."

That was puzzling. He tilted his head to the side as he examined her carefully for any sign of deception. He found none. Hadn't expected to. She hadn't lied to him in a long time. There was no point. He always knew. This wasn't a lie. It was an omission. "How's that, then?"

The melancholy blonde quickly cast him a sideways glance before looking away as though the mere sight of him caused her physical pain. "For being too fucking scared to do it." He'd warned her never to lie to him. Had punished her for doing so. It wasn't nice, but it was the truth.

Klaus felt his heart clench at her evasive answer. He wasn't sure how to interpret her response. "You're afraid to die?" he asked, a speculative edge to his husky accent.

"Afraid I wouldn't," she confessed with a sigh. That was it. Her entire explanation. She said no more, and he didn't ask. He knew. She was numb. She barely had any emotions at all. Not happiness or anger or sadness. Even her capacity to fear him had been diminished. She wasn't afraid for her friends anymore, nor for herself.

She had only one fear left: hope. She was afraid of hope.

Hope was the worst thing for her. Hope that he'd ever let her go. Hope that he'd ever truly care for her. She couldn't have hope. Couldn't dare to dream. She was long passed dreaming. Long passed trying. Long past sighing when the stars shine bright. He'd stolen her hopes, broken her heart, and taken her dreams overnight. The only dream she had left was one of sweet death. In death, she would be free of him. Death was her hope.

And he knew it.

She knew he would never let her die. There was no hope for death. He'd made that clear five years ago. He'd had this image in his head of how things would go. He'd take her away from the prying eyes and righteous, hypocritical judgement of her friends, and she would give him a chance. See the good in him. See that he loved her. Love him in return. Then, they'd live happily after ever. Always and forever. That was what happened when serial killers bullied their prey into blind obedience, right?

The world didn't work that way.

Klaus was a Beast, but Caroline was not his Beauty. He'd always hated that story. He'd thought the Beast an ineffectual moron for ever allowing her to leave. Of course, he'd loved Belle and she'd loved him in return. The hybrid king and his prisoner shared no such affection. The antihero of the story became so because he finally gave the woman he'd once imprisoned her freedom. He showed her that his love for her was real. Tangible. Nobel.

Is that what love and nobility boiled down to in the end? Sacrifice? He didn't know. Or rather, he did know, but wished he didn't. He'd been around for twenty lifetimes. If he looked in the mirror for too long, he saw the characters of Lord Byron dancing behind his eyes as they laughed at his misery. In that way, that was all he had. Misery. And Caroline. He had her. He knew what he had to do. Or rather, he knew what not to do. He had to not put himself first. For once.

He didn't want to.

He had to.

In a thousand years, no revelation had been more haunting, no task more daunting. He closed his eyes, not that she could see his inner turmoil. She didn't look at him unless he instructed her to do so. Then, she would. She followed his orders always. She obeyed him completely and without hesitation. It was what he'd wanted. Demanded. It wasn't now.

Now, he fucking hated it.

Klaus missed her fire. He missed the way she fought him, the way she stood up for herself, the way she only said no. He hadn't realized until that moment just how much that flame had dimmed... but it hadn't burned out. Somewhere, deep inside, he had to believe that the way she feared hope meant a part of her knew it did exist. He wanted her to have that. He wanted to give back what he'd taken. Return what he'd stolen. He wanted her flame to ignite. He wanted her to shine.

Most of all, he wanted her to live. He wanted her to love. He wanted her to be as strong and as beautiful as she'd been. Who she was now was not the woman he'd fallen in love with, if that's what he'd done. Maybe he'd never loved anyone. Maybe he never would. Elijah had always spoken of his little brother's redemption. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps not.

Perhaps the only way to be redeemed was to stop doing things that required redemption.

It was to that end that he finally opened his eyes and looked at Caroline as she gazed off in the distance. "What if you could walk out the front door?"

"You'd never let me," she replied in a monotone without missing a beat.

Klaus sighed and ran his fingers through his dirty blonde curls. How he hated this. "What if I did?" His voice sounded choked. Pathetic. Desperate for everything and nothing all at once. For the first time in a long time, he heard her heart rate accelerate. She slowly turned to him and he saw it. That spark of the girl she'd once been. It was small but it was undeniably there. Caroline was still in there. Somewhere. Not here. He was never going to find her in this place. She would never be herself as long as he kept her here. He took a step towards her and focused on her eyes. Looking for the light. "What if I said you could go right now?"

Caroline sucked in a deep breath, her throat painfully constricted as she bit out, "Then I'd run and never look back."

And there it was. The truth. He'd known it all along. Given the option, she would never stay by his side. Not after all he'd done. There was never a world in which a man like him ended up with a woman like her. She was all that was good and he was all that was not. He had to force himself to say the words that set her free. "Then go." When she stood there motionless, no doubt in shock, he walked past her. Facing the rocks, he gripped the stone rail to support himself. To contain himself. To make sure he wasn't weak. After a brief moment, he tried to look back over his shoulder, but his body wouldn't cooperate. Instead, he added in breath barely above a whisper as his profile glowed in the moonlight, "You're free, Caroline."

The stunned blonde immortal wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. It could have been a test. Her mouth fell open but no words came out. She had nothing to say to him and hadn't for as long as she could remember. He knew that. As hard as it was, he had to help her understand that he was serious. "I'm saying you can go. I'd say you can stay, but we both know you won't. I won't come after you, nor your friends. Run back to your life and never think of me or this place again."

Her dull blue-grey eyes darted between his silhouette and the world beyond her prison. Was he truly setting her free? She stood rooted to the spot as a million emotions coursed through her veins. Fear. Hope. Confusion. Clarity. He gripped the stone so tightly that the coppery scent of his blood filled the space between them. It broke him as a man and as a monster to do it, but he strengthened his resolve and added firmly, "Go, and go now before I change my mind."

So, that's what she did.

She ran as far and as fast as her legs would carry her and never once did she look back at the Beast she'd left behind. She ran home to her friends and family and they greeted her with open arms. The ones she loved held her close and stood by her as she found herself again. It took a long time, but eventually the light returned to her sparkling sapphire eyes as the fire burned within. She became someone new. Someone stronger. Stronger than she'd been before he'd kept her in the dark.

Caroline was the light – and that light was beautiful.

Klaus watched her as she ran across the rocky terrain. Ran from him. From the darkness. Closing his eyes, he whispered to himself, "Goodbye, my love. My dearest love." A single tear ran down his cheek as she faded from view one last time. He never went after her. Never saw her again. He let her go. With utter finality, he knew one thing to be true: they both ended up where they belonged. His goodbye made her strong. She was free... and he was alone.

In the dark.

"She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes."