Part 4

He still clouded her judgment. It was the accusation that Alaric threw in her face. He clouded her judgment. Since she was a young vampire, unwillingly caught in the snare of his abashed grin when he never even made an effort to hide. Until now with decades behind her, caught up in the fervent nobility of sacrifice that made his eyes shine.

She was trapped. Her judgment clouded. And why did it have to come upon her so late?

Or maybe not late at all, and she had just stubbornly refused to admit it?

There had to be a way. He told her so himself, in that rushed flow of despair his words tumbled together. There was a way, but his daughter had no time.

Why did he have to be so noble now, and why was that her heart's point of no return?

She loathed and adored bullheadedness of his. It was this persistence that drove him to chase her for years. Without it, he would have brushed her off the moment she denied him. His arrogant generosity was the reason the school existed. His obstinate willfulness was the reason he was a legend.

But it was why he would soon just be legend.

Tonight, the girls she bore inside her were going to be instruments of his destruction. And then, strong brave foolish stupid noble loving self-sacrificing—he would end it all.

If she were a better woman, knowing how deeply he felt for her, she would stand there and be the final sight he saw.

For the life of her, Caroline was not going to watch him die. She was not so kind, after all.

Her judgment could be clouded, but her heart was not. If this was the last day, then for once, Caroline Forbes was going to throw caution to the wind. Tonight there would be no rules, no one to cajole her, no one to blame.

Tonight was going to be her choice.

Caroline tucked her girls into bed with a kiss on each forehead. She had given clear instructions to Alaric. Once the spell was done, he was to take the twins away, quickly. One day when they were older, once they comprehend what their roles were tonight, there would be nightmares. She did not need them to include seeing Klaus Mikaelson stake himself.

Caroline steeled herself against the cold numbness that ran through her.

"My brave girls," she said to them, "I am so proud of you."

For no one else in the world would she put her daughters through this. But when he pleaded with her, when he beseeched her, and she looked into those blue eyes.

Caroline swore that this could be the very thing that would wash away all the blood, all the pain, all the terror of one thousand years. And she and her girls could be part of that. If only for this one final time, they could give him a gift.

"And I'm sorry," she whispered.

A small hand wrapped around hers to comfort her. Caroline looked down at Lizzie. "Is this going to make you sad, mom? If it is, Josie and I will take care of it. No one can make us do it."

"No, no," Caroline paused. But she never wanted to lie to her girls, not when she could help it. "And yes."

Josie sat up on the bed, then frowned. "What do you mean?"

And then Caroline felt the tears in her eyes, dabbing at them, laughing softly to hide the emotion. "Sometimes we feel opposite things at the same time. Sometimes you feel so sad, and happy too."

Lizzie shrugged. "I feel like that most of the time."

Caroline nodded. "And it's perfectly fine. Get some sleep. Tonight, your dad will take you to do your magic. I'm just sorry I won't be there. But your dad will be there. He'll keep you safe." Caroline stood, then approached the girls, kissing each forehead tenderly. "Thank you for doing this for Mr Mikaelson, girls."

"We're doing it for you, mom," Josie said somberly.

When Caroline closed the girls' bedroom door behind her, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Taking deep, calming breaths, willing her heart to descend back in her chest, so long had it been stuck in her throat that it would have choked her if had been a creature that needed to breathe.

When she sufficiently collected herself, Caroline straightened. Her mind was clouded; her heart was not. Her feet moved of their own volition. He did not need to tell her where he would await those last hours before the ritual. Caroline made her way through the maze of the corridors until she emerged in the residential wing, a private area cordoned off from students.

Caroline pushed open the door to Stefan's old room, now converted into a small library of the most precious of their books. Klaus looked up, unsurprised. Of course he heard her yards away, maybe more. "Care for some bourbon, Caroline?"

A small smile touched her lips. "Where did you find bourbon?" The way he swirled the liquid in that glass, right near where the precious treasures were, was just asking for trouble. He lowered the small leatherbound he was reading.

Klaus did not bother answering her. If he wanted something, he could so quickly fetch it. He was one of the most supremely overpowered supernatural beings, after all. Nothing defeated him truly. Nothing could kill him, except when he decided it could.

The faint smile faded.

"What are you doing here, love?" She stepped forward, holding his gaze. "If you think you can change my mind—" Klaus trailed off. His fingers grazed her cheek. "Please don't."

She glanced at the time. Caroline took the glass from him and placed it on the edge of the bookshelf. Then she grabbed the book, glanced at the page where he lingered.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

"Macbeth, Klaus? So typical," she murmured.

"Creeps in this petty pace from day to day," he recited to her, not needing the verses to share, "to the last syllable of recorded time, And all have lighted fools, The way to dusty death."

"You are so melodramatic," she said gently, teasingly, half meaningfully.

If she was truly so convinced that he would kill himself, no one could truly stop him. This was Klaus, willing to die for his child. And Caroline was going to face however long her immortal life was, now knowing it was going to be lonelier than how she anticipated it for all his promises, in the searing solitude thinking of what could have been. And she would live no matter how cold the nights would be, willing to walk alone for hers.

Wordless, she took his hand and led him out of the library, to the bedroom she occupied. At the sight of the bed, Klaus paused. She turned to him and met his quizzical gaze, as if the decision was warring inside him. Any other day, any other night, there would be no hesitation. She could read the thoughts that whirled in his mind.

Her judgment was no clouded now. No. The next step was clear as a day with a ridiculously large rainbow screaming that the rain was gone.

Caroline released his hand, then rested hers on either side of his face, the stubble forming prickly against her soft skin. She leaned forward and kissed one cheek, inhaling his scent. Sandalwood. Musk. Mist. God, she would this. If only she did not waste those years. But that was always the end, was it not? Regret for not having had more. She turned to the other cheek, expecting the same rough stubble, until she found her lips buried in the soft, cushioned kiss.

And her lips parted, her mouth pliant under his. He deepened the kiss, his free hands now grasping at her waist. His mouth slanted against her. She stumbled backwards towards the bed and he held fast to her. The backs of her legs hit the edge of the bed, and Caroline tumbled backwards, taking him with her as he held fast.

When their lips parted, Caroline looked up to him lying on top of her. He bent down for a taste of her lips. The teasing humor was gone. She could see it in his eyes. He knew it as much as she did. What this was. What this meant. Whatever came afterwards, whatever lay beyond for him, he could remember or forget.

For Caroline, it would be seared for eternity like a brand.

But her mind was unclouded, her heart clear.

They could have done so many, lived so much, if he only fulfilled his promise.

Quietly, somberly, she sat up on the bed. Klaus watched her as she stood. The moonlight streaming through the curtained window provided some illumination once Caroline switched off the light. The faint silver light coming from the window framed her, bounding off the golden halo around her head.

Caroline reached for the buttons-

The words spilled from his lips unbidden, "Marry me."

Not again. "You're dead in a few hours." By his own hands. "No."

She could not help or hide the flare of anger that Caroline knew was apparent in her eyes.

He rose from the bed and walked over to her. Klaus took her hand and brought it up to his lips. "I swear on my own daughter's life, if there was ever anyone who could make me stay—"

And the anger inside her, once an ember, sprung to life. So did the paralyzing pain.

She looked at him, saw in his eyes the acceptance and that peace.

Instead, Caroline reached for the bottom of Stefan's shirt and pulled it off him. Any other day she would have thought this uncomfortable, laughable even, to take off her dead husband's clothes off a man in that dead husband's old living quarters. If Stefan could see them now, he would probably find humor in it too, and then remember who they were and wince. But Stefan was calm, and secure, and safe.

And Klaus, to her, at least—he was always—

Not calm. Yet not violent.

Secure, but insecure.

Safe. But he made her the most afraid she had ever had in her life.

He made her fear her own death twice. And terrified her of what comes after his.

Caroline's breath caught in her throat. She slowly divested herself of her clothes. When she dropped the last of them to pool around her ankles, Caroline peered up at him from under the cascade of her hair.

It was the very first time she stood in front of anyone fully naked. His eyes roamed over her pale skin made paler by the full moon.

He took off the rest of his clothes, then in a split second he was before her. Caroline rested her palms on his chest. Slowly, she ran her fingers, traced the muscles, until it rested right there. That very spot. Caroline brought her lips over his heart, placing fluttering, soothing kisses, willing her soul to burrow deep within to rest against it.

So when he plunged the stake, he would take all her memories of tonight with him.

She could swear he knew the mindless flow of her consciousness, because he buried his fingers in her hair and gently, he turned her to face him. He brought his lips to her cheeks, once, twice, several times until her tears were dry.

She loathed him, and she cherished him.

Those kisses were the most painful ones she had ever suffered.

Caroline lay back on the bed and Klaus followed. Her legs parted, giving him access. When he buried himself inside her deeply, Caroline gasped and raised herself on her arms, watching him. She swallowed deeply when he hit those parts of her that triggered sparks of lightning in her brain. Caroline threw her head back, panting with every thrust. Her breath coming in sharp exhales as he buried himself deep, deeper still.

And then she was looking down at him and he crawled on all fours. She held her breath, watching him as he moved down. She sucked in a sharp breath when he placed a kiss on the taut skin below her navel. Her belly quivered as he drew lower still. He placed a kiss on the juncture between her hipbone and her thigh.

"Marry me," he pleaded with her, burying his nose in the golden curls hiding her lower lips.

She loathed him, and she loathed him, and she loved him, her mind screamed.

Deftly, Klaus hooked his arms underneath her knees. Her legs parted and she gasped. She felt them open for him, the wetness of their earlier activities still warm, cooling in the air. Her breath, her body, all her trembled as he rested her legs on his shoulders.

"Klaus," she sobbed.

And then he buried his mouth into her moist softness, delving deep as his thumbs and insistent tongue parted her to explore further. Caroline could not help the mewling sounds that came from her throat. She swore she was crying, or mewling, or shouting—extremes that she could not even tell apart. He laved deeper, the sensations washing over her so violently she racked and thought she was drowning.

She loathed and she loved and she loved and she loved.

The explosion of bright light took her so high she knew not when she would touch the ground. On her next conscious thought, Caroline saw herself back on the bed, idly caressing his dark blonde curls as the rested on her chest, his nose nuzzling her breast.

Sensing the shift, he glanced up at her, his eyes glinting like his lips. "Welcome back, love." Klaus placed a kiss on her lips, and she tasted the unfamiliar taste, knowing it was her smeared on his lips. In that position, Caroline felt him against her thigh, strong and hard. Eagerly she parted her legs, making room for him.

She felt him at her entrance. Caroline reached down, and sucked in her breath at the smooth and sure way he slid inside her. He thrust in and out so smoothly, without uncertainty, as if deep inside his body knew he belonged inside her. Her vision narrowed into tiny pinpricks even as she moved with him, matching his pace. Klaus rested his forehead against hers as they moved. Caroline held his gaze until she could not hold anymore. A cry erupted in her throat and she felt his warmth spill inside her.

Few things she could think of that could get her spent, completely exhausted. She curled beside him, using his arm as her own pillow, burying her face in his chest. Caroline twined her legs around him, letting exhaustion take over her.

Caroline stirred moments later. He was above her, searching her face.

He was beautiful. He was hers.

And soon he would be gone.

But now, he was hers,

Wordless, Caroline cradled his hips between her legs. She reached down, never breaking his gaze.

Come home, love, she thought to herself.

He pumped his hips, plunging into her core. Caroline's back arched. She hiked her legs around his hips, higher and tighter, holding in as much as she could. She could not bear to have space—air—between them. Tonight he was a part of her and she of him.

Go on, love.

He came, spent himself, and Caroline caressed his back, easing him down.

And she slept, tired, satiated, holding on to him tightly as if she could stop what would come.

Caroline woke up in the dead of the night, alone, the bed cold. A prologue to the rest of her forever, she thought. She sat up on the bed. And then she heard it. Midnight.

She was not going to watch him die. Alaric would take care of the girls. Klaus could have his noble final act. Why subject herself to that pain?

Marry me.

If she were a better woman, knowing how deeply she felt, she would stand there and drink in the final sight of him.

Caroline picked up a robe and sped to the site. She knew the moment that the Hollow entered him, and saw the desperate action as he clawed for the stake. The girls were ushered away quickly by their father. Caroline moved towards Klaus.

And then Hope and Elijah took him away.

She was going to New Orleans.

tbc