#then klaus would taunt him because hes dead and he cant do anything

[current-obsession-hoard]

Ben: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

[negasonicimagines]

How to Save a Life

request: so, um hi! i love your blog and i was wondering if you could write a yukiosonic x reader fic where the reader is a medium (like they can see/communicate with the dead) and like they hate it cause its scary so reader is like always jumpy and tired cause they cant sleep and yukio and ellie help them with that. if not thats cool but thanks

notes: I based the reader’s medium abilities on Klaus from The Umbrella Academy, because I got that sort of vibe (compared to Melissa Gordon from Ghost Whisperer) from how the reader was described in the request! Also, I’ve been dying to write something using How to Save a Life by The Fray, so I’m glad I finally got the opportunity. This is probably a lot angstier than you wanted, anon… Feel free to ask me for a redo.

warnings: attempted suicide, suicidal themes, allusions to Wade’s shitty childhood, etc. overall tw.

You jolt awake from a nightmare, a bus explosion that quite a few of the students here died in, apparently. You’re not sure whether or not you’re happy to see the moon in the sky outside.

There’s a girl hanging herself from the ceiling fan over your bed.

You sob.

“Shh, babe, it’s okay,” Ellie, who’s still awake and on her phone, tightens the grip of her arm around you as you hide your face in her chest, not wanting to look at him.

“I think we need a room transfer,” you whimper.

“We haven’t even finished unpacking from the last one…” Ellie reminds you.

“There’s a girl hanging from the ceiling fan above our bed,” you inform her, refusing to look at the ghost. You know that she’ll start to talk eventually, but pretending you don’t see them usually deters them.

“Christ,” she exhales. “I’m so sorry, babe.” Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp a bit as you weep.

Yukio had been spooning you, and, at your trembling, wakes up.

“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry,” she sleepily apologizes, nuzzling you gently and rubbing your back. “Everything’s alright, I promise we won’t let them hurt you.”

“Thank you,” you respond. Their touches soothe you, but you don’t fall asleep, even once they do. Her feet keep brushing over your leg as she sways with the draft that must’ve been occurring when she died.

The morning slowly comes, and she doesn’t fade away. Some do. You get up and go to the bathroom, completing your morning routine.

“Morning, Y/N,” she says, upon your return.

“Leave me alone, please,” you request.

“Don’t you want to know what drove me to this?” Her head is turned to the side and her body dangles limply from the rope. You ignore her, sickened.

You go to the nightstand next to the bed, averting your eyes. You unplug your phone, and upon lifting it up to look at it, coincidentally in the direction as her ghostly body, the hanging girl swings herself towards you with a loud shout.

You yelp, stumbling backwards and falling. She cackles at you.

“Y/N?” Ellie sleepily asks.

You don’t say anything, hoping she’ll fall back asleep, and open the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out the knife Wade got you for your last birthday. You stand on the bed, sawing at the rope. She falls to the ground, crawling towards the corner of the room before standing.

“Come on. What’s your name? What do I gotta do to get you to leave me the hell alone? ‘Cause I’m one more of you away from hanging from a ceiling fan myself, pal.”

The girl looks surprised at your outburst.

“I- I don’t know. I’m gonna just…” She phases through the bedroom door. Adrenaline rushes inside of you. You didn’t often confront the apparitions, many of them made vengeful and corrupt by their prolonged time on this spiritual plane. You didn’t have the means to help them all move on, and many of them didn’t want to.

It’s draining.

Ellie whimpers.

“Babe?” You ask, turning back to the bed. She’s sitting up, on the edge.

“You- You wanna- You’re- You’re suicidal?” She asks, brows furrowed and eyes watery as she stares at her hands in her lap.

“I- Yeah. I am,” you confess. It hurts to say. “Things have been r-really hard for a really long time, and- And even though y-you and Y-Yukio’s support makes things a lot easier, and you both are s-so important to me… I- I can’t do this anymore,” you sob, hiding your face in your hands. Ellie cries too, but not before standing and embracing you.

“You can, Y/N. You can. We need you, too. You make things easier for us, too. Shh, baby… Shh…” She rubs your back as the two of you hug. “I hope you understand that I- I’m not gonna be able to leave you alone for a while.”

“Yeah.” You sigh. Suicide watch, again.

“I just- I thought you were doing better.” She pulls away from the embrace, wiping your tears and smiling sadly. “But you’re not.”

“It’s just easier to manage sometimes,” you remind her.

Yukio stirs in her sleep before her eyes flutter open.

“What’s goin’ on?” She asks you, sleepily.

“Nothing,” you lie. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie to her, Y/N,” Ellie scolds.

“She just woke up,” you protest.

“What’s wrong?” Yukio insists.

“Y/N’s suicidal again,” Ellie informs her, and your other girlfriend sighs. They’re so tired… Of you.

“We’ve got a mission today,” Yukio reminds. “I can text Wade.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you argue, but Ellie just shakes her head.

“You said you’re one more asshole ghost away from killing yourself. And this school is full of ‘em. So, if assigning that living asshole to keep you from doing so is what it takes to keep you safe, then we’re doing it.”

You know better than to argue. Your girlfriends get dressed and ready, and the three of you go to breakfast, meeting Wade there. You don’t say much as they discuss the situation, a lump forming in your voice at how tired they sound. You’re a leech, you know, constantly draining their energy.

You remember how you used to make them so happy, and now you’re just a burden. You stress them out with your constant problems, never taking a break from being miserable and pathetic long enough to take care of them. You don’t touch your food, avoiding Wade’s trained eyes.

There’s a rather sad-looking woman sitting next to him. A cancer patient, bald and in a hospital gown. She’s still pretty though, a natural radiance exuding from her. You watch her watch him, no malice in her gaze whatsoever.

“My beautiful boy,” she says, a hand literally ghosting across his cheek.

“Oh,” you respond, eyes filling with tears. She looks to you in surprise.

“You can see me?”

“Of course I can. I see dead people. Kind of my thing,” you tell the woman. Apparently, she wasn’t aware of you.

“I- I can’t stay for very long. I’m supposed to have passed on, but… I have to watch over him, keep him safe. I keep slipping in and out of this plane. It’s my time.” No wonder you hadn’t encountered each other yet.

“I- I could watch him for you,” you offer quietly. Wade observes your conversation, but doesn’t say anything because you don’t appear to be in too much distress.

“Would you?” the woman asks.

“Sure. Wade and I are friends, sort of.”

“We are!”  Wade insists. You and the woman smile.

“I’m Hailey,” she introduces herself.

“I’m Y/N,” you offer her your hand to shake. She tentatively reaches out, and, finding that she can touch you, is ecstatic. She goes to hug Wade, but slips through. “You can touch me because I’m a medium. But, if there’s anything you want me to say…” You sigh. “I don’t know if he’d believe me.”

“I doubt he would,” Hailey admits. “But- But can I have a little bit more time? Just one more day?”

You nod.

“Wade, listen, I’m fine. I will text you every hour on the hour. I just… Need some time alone, okay? I feel awful about making Yukio and Ellie worry so much, and I want to do something special for them.”

“Yeah, if you explain to me what that all was about. Is it… Is it Vanessa?”

You look to his mother, sighing.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He doesn’t push it, and you go back to your room.

You set up a blanket fort over the bed, hanging yarn from wall to wall to support the sheets, putting a white one at the foot of the bed and finding the novelty phone projector you’d gotten Ellie for her last birthday, so that you all can watch something on Netflix together.

You lay out fluffy PJ’s (a set each of you owned in different colors) for them both to change into, knowing they’d probably want to after a long day.

Then, you go to the kitchen, making cookies for them. Sugar for Ellie, chocolate chip for Yukio.

After they cool, you put them on a plate and wrap it with saran wrap so they’ll retain some of their heat until Ellie and Yukio get back. You take the treats back to your dorm, going to the bathroom and freshening up before changing into your own set of PJ’s.

You texted Wade throughout the hours it took to prepare, informing him of your feats. You were endlessly taunted and stalked by the spirits that loved to torment you, the entire time, but you insisted upon doing it yourself, and alone.

They arrive home in the early evening.

“Honey, you were supposed to rest today,” Ellie scolds, but hugs you, lifting you off the ground a bit with excitement. When she lets you go, you speak.

“Well, I wanted to do something nice for you guys. I know that you both do a lot for me, and that this doesn’t make it all up, but I wanted to start. I need to take care of my babes, too, not just the other way around.”

Yukio shakes her head, but kisses you on the cheek, giving you a one armed hug. They both change into their PJ’s, you unwrap the cookies, and they get on the bed, hidden in the fort.

You enter the fort, placing the plate on the bed behind the projector.

Ellie and Yukio squeeze you between them, both “holders” while you’re more of a “hold-ee,” in terms of cuddling. They share you like you’re giant stuffed animal as you three munch on cookies and watch various things on YouTube and Netflix.

Every time you feel yourself nodding off, you jolt, not wanting to be the first to sleep. Wanting to watch over them, to make sure they rest.

Eventually, they fall asleep, and you take the phone out of the projector and plug it up to charge. You put the toy away, and keep an eye on them. They both look so tired, even asleep.

You realize what you have to do.

You write the letter in your notebook, tears blurring your vision as you do. You love them so much. You tear the page out, taping it to the door and leaving.

You climb up the stairs until you make it to the roof of the school. There’s a garden up there, but you don’t even stop to admire it.

The cool air of the night is relief against your wet, burning cheeks as sobs escape your throat. You approach the edge, looking down nervously.

You hear a clang against the rock of the ledge behind you, and turn. It’s a grappling hook.

“Wait, wait!” Wade calls. “I’m a bit out of practice with this. Whew!”

As he climbs up, you know it’s now or never. If Wade gets up there, he can stop you for sure.

It’s gonna hurt, you’re aware, staring over the edge once more. You’re not sure if you should step off or jump. Stepping off is a little easier, but it doesn’t put you at a far enough distance from the building.

You decide to dive, but Wade grabs your arm before you can complete the action.

“She was- My mom was-“ his breathing is shaky, and you continue to cry, hiding your face in your unrestricted hand. He takes you in his arms. “She was in my dream tonight. She told me to stop you, and then she said good- Good- Goodbye… You promised her you’d watch me.”

“I’m nothing but a burden to everyone I care about, Wade,” you tell him. Like it isn’t obvious. “They’re so tired of me. I’m so tired of me, of this horrible curse that everyone calls a goddamn gift.”

You both shake and cry, and you know he’s not letting go of you anytime soon.

“You are not a burden, Y/N.”

“I used to make them so happy… And now they’re just exhausted, all the time. No matter what I do to show my appreciation, I know that nothing will ever be enough because they’re what’s keeping me alive,” you insist.

“Then why are you up here?” Wade asks. You just shake your head.

“I need to free them.”

“They can make that decision for themselves. If they didn’t love you they wouldn’t be with you,” he attempts to convince you.

“They just don’t want blood on their hands,” you disagree, and he holds you tighter.

“That’s not true, Y/N… That’s not true,” Wade repeats it over and over again as you cry in his arms, the tears and the listening and the five other (dead) people on the roof wearing you out.

“I- I can’t go back to that dorm right now,” you tell him. “I don’t want to wake them up, for them to- To miss out on more sleep because of me.”

“You can hang out in my room,” he reassures. “I’ve got a small couch you can sleep on, if you manage to sleep.”

You nod, and he leads you down the stairs. A spirit appears. An old man with cruel blue eyes and a cigar in his mouth. His army garb, Canadian, lists his name: Wilson.

You’d heard enough about Thomas Wilson to know he was bad news. He must know Hailey is gone. Who knows how long he’s been watching, waiting? You’re disgusted, and you deck the spectral piece of shit in the face.

“Leave him the hell alone!” You demand, and the creep narrows his eyes at you, rising up from the ground and shoving you backwards. You fight back, taking out all your anger and hatred of your abilities on someone you knew deserved it.

At the end of it, the bastard flees, and you’re left with bruised knuckles and a stunned Wade Wilson.

“Who was that, Y/N?” He asks.

“Your parents are quite attached to you, Wade. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be keeping my eye on you, like I promised.”

As the two of you proceed to his dorm, you explain: “Spirits can drain people. Hence why I’m such a mess all the time. I’m a medium, the rules that apply to normal humans don’t apply to me. If a spirit has a place in your heart and is trapped on Earth, they can take energy from you.

“Other than mediums, though, kind, good people are often preyed upon because they have a place in their heart for everything. Since your mother and father have places in your heart, they were able to latch onto you and keep their place in this plane. Your mother didn’t take much, which is why she was slipping in and out of the afterlife. But Thomas… He packed quite a punch, even if he was waiting in the wings prior to Hailey’s passing on. You should start feeling a lot better soon.”

“You really are something special, Y/N L/N,”  is all Wade says in response. You make it to his room and he flops onto the bed.

It’s nearly three AM, you realize upon looking at the digital clock on his nightstand. You curl up under a throw blanket on the love seat, sleeping a lot more soundly after crying, after standing up for yourself and Wade.

There’s a banging on the door. You ignore it, hiding from the sunlight under your blanket.

You hear Wade get up and stumble to the door.

“They- They’re-“ Ellie sobs, and you remember that you never retrieved the note. You also hear Yukio’s wails, both of them crying heavily. Were they really so upset you were gone?

You hear the crinkling of paper, and Wade mutter “Shit.” He walks over to you. “Kid, wake up. We didn’t think to get the damn note.”

You remove the blanket from over you, standing up, and your girlfriends cry harder, now with relief.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize weakly. They shake their heads, and Wade gestures with your head for you to go to them. The three of you embrace.

“Don’t- Why- I-“ Yukio doesn’t know how to start, still sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

“We should’ve- We should’ve known you would feel-“ Ellie attempts, but neither of them can stop crying long enough to piece together their words.

Eventually, though, they manage to steady their breathing.

Ellie holds your face in her hands, a devastated expression still on her face.

“You are not a burden, Y/N. You are my best friend. You are caring, and smart, and funny, and beautiful. I never want to lose you. Never ever.” She kisses your forehead deeply, before releasing you.

Yukio wraps you in a tight individual hug.

“I’m never letting you go,” she whimpers, before quietly continuing: “Never ever. Ellie and I are happy to help you. You deserve to be loved, to be supported. And we both know that you love and support us back, in every way you can. We’re in a relationship, not working on a group project. Being kind to yourself if one of the best ways you can show your love for us.”

You sniffle as she lets you go, and look to Wade.

“I’m sorry,” you say to him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Wade embraces you in the same fashion as Yukio, though due to height he just smushes your face into his chest.

“Don’t thank me. Thank…” He gets choked up. “You know. And thank you.” Wade releases you, holding your hands after and inspecting your knuckles. “I won’t forget this.”

“Neither will I,” you respond, looking back into his eyes. You two now have an understanding.

He lets go of your hands. You look to your girlfriends.

“Let’s go home, honey,” Yukio suggests, and you nod tiredly. You’d only gotten four hours of fitful sleep. Your girls take your hands and lead you to the room.

The fort, the room is in shambles, still smoldering.

“Christ,” you breathe, shocked at the mess.

“The news that you were dead didn’t quite go over well,” Ellie remarks, sounding rather desolate. Her tone is that of tiredness.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again.

“It’s- It’s fine. As long as you’re doing better, as long as you’ll let us help you get better-”

“What if I’m never better? What if I’m just another ghost, sucking away the energy of good people to maintain my place here?” you lament, sniffling.

“Baby, it’s not like that, I promise,” Yukio attempts to reassure you. “We love you so much, and no sacrifice is too great-”

“You shouldn’t be making sacrifices for me! I’m worthless!” You shriek, finally truly snapping, at least verbally. “I am nothing! All I ever do is take, and take, and take, and I give nothing back except for pain and misery and exhaustion.”

“Nothing at all? Not cuddles, not music recommendations, not a confidant, not a pillow fort and cookies after a long day? Not reassurance? Not a sense of fulfillment? Nothing? Not even love?” Ellie storms off to the closet, bringing out an old Converse shoe box. She opens it, tips it over, and various little things come out. Scraps of paper, movie tickets, gum wrappers, a couple tubes of lip balm, and more.

“What is all that, Ellie?” you wonder.

“It’s something I’ve been keeping since our first date. You’ve caught me, okay? I’m a sentimental bastard. But thank god I am, so I can show you just how fucking wrong you are,” she explains. You don’t respond, and she continues: “Movie tickets to Fifty Shades of Grey, our first date. You bought those, even though I didn’t want you to. We were planning to go as friends to take the piss out of it, but I finally grew a pair and made it a date. We still mocked it to no end, but I finally fucking kissed you after. Finally.

“You gave me this piece of gum in Geometry right before the midterms. Your last piece of Extra gum, Rainbow Sherbet-flavored, before you were gonna be able to go into town that Friday. For luck, you said. And I actually fucking passed it.

“A birthday card. You were the only one who remembered my birthday, and- And-” Ellie’s smiling, and so are you, but your eyes, hers, and Yukio’s are overflowing with tears. “I don’t understand why you can’t believe that I love you. That we love you. You’ve done so much, for both of us. Yes, we support you. But what kind of partners, what kind of human beings would we be if we didn’t? And you support us in return.”

“I- I guess… I guess you’re right,” you acknowledge. You really hadn’t thought of yourself, your efforts, as equal to hers and Yukio’s.

“I don’t have a shoe box, but I promise that I treasure you, too,” Yukio says, hugging you from behind. “Let’s clean up this room,” she suggests. You nod, and the three of you get started. Dismantling what’s left of the fort, moving a rug to cover the scorch marks in the carpet, and the like.

At the end of it all, you three snuggle in bed, both of them holding you. You’re in between them as they both lay on their sides, arms around you and (partially) each other. You’re warm, safe.

“I love you both so much. I’m so sorry that I almost abandoned you.”

“We’re just glad that you’re okay, sweetheart,” Yukio replies, squeezing you a little tighter.

“We really are. Please, please tell us if you start to feel that way again. I’d be glad to go through the box with you.”

“Maybe we could get a notebook or a journal to catalogue all the items. We could pass it on to, I don’t know, someone. Maybe publish it,” Yukio suggests, and Ellie nods.

“That’d be pretty cool,” Ellie responds. “What would it be titled, you think?”

“Ingredients of Love? Nah, too cheesy. Y/N?” Yukio asks, but you don’t respond. You’ve drifted off to dreamland, in the security of their arms, knowing that they love you and that they’ll always keep you safe.

[cupcakemolotov]

Time Travel + KC?

So sorry this took so long!!! Mentions of violence, gore, a tiny bit of angst.

When Bonnie Bennett had told her that time travel wasn’t a matter of moving forwards or backwards, but sideways, Caroline had laughed at her. The entire concept seemed impossible. One reality was more than enough. Bonnie had simply shaken her head, that familiar exasperation, and continued on with her little pet project.

Caroline had teased her occasionally, would sit on her back porch in Mystic Falls and debate the concept with her for hours.

“Somewhere there’s a me who actually likes Damon? Impossible.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes and took a slow sip of her beer, skin flushed in the heat of a Virginia summer. “Probably. Although it’s probably more likely that there is a reality where Damon is less of an ass.”

Caroline snorted out a mouthful of beer. “You like Damon.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t realize how ridiculous he can be,” Bonnie said with a grin, handing her a napkin. “But it’s not every decision that branches, I think. Just the big ones.”

“Like what?”

Bonnie purses her lips. “Maybe you’re human.”

Caroline tipped her head back, stared up at the sunset. “That seems so strange.”

“Who knows?” Bonnie shrugged. “It’s just a theory. For all we know, certain events are set in stone and are bedrocks of a healthy universe.”

“Hey now,” Caroline protested, waving her beer. “That’s Batman logic, from the comics. Have you been holding out on me?”

Bonnie turned scarlet and spluttered. Caroline had teased her mercilessly, but all the while, a little thought had niggled at her. She’d shoved it to the side, refused to dwell on it. A promise she wasn’t certain she’d ever accept.

Caroline treasured that memory. The certainty of her friend that somewhere, things were different. Because for the last fifty years, everything had gone to hell.

Figuratively and literally.

Humanity had learned about vampires, about witches, and the war that knowledge had sparked was devastating. Too many people died. I’m the end, it was humanity that gained a foothold, and what was left of the community had gone deep into hiding.

“They’ll kill them eventually,” Bonnie had told her one fall day as they hid out in the caves of Caroline’s childhood. Mystic Falls smelled of blood and old fires, the woods scared by carnage the air still remembered.

“Who?”

Bonnie looked up from Elena’s coffin, her face tired. There was more white than black in her hair now, deep lines around Bonnie’s eyes and mouth that spoke of the decades they’d lived. She limped, on cold mornings, her movements hesitant and slow. In her coffin, Elena was still young, with no idea of the hellscape that awaited her.

They’d moved her early, and Bonnie had finagled just enough magic that she’d go undetected. Caroline wasn’t sure this was the future that Elena thought she’d wake too, the Salvatores missing, their childhood homes gone. But human Elena had a chance to thrive, in the end. Her humanity would protect her.

“The Originals.”

Caroline jerked, and swallowed hard while looking away. It was fall, the leaves brown and red, the occasional splash of yellow. There was little comforting here, the remains of multiple childhoods scattered around her. “Yes.”

No one knew when or how they’d gone missing. But it’d become clear when they’d never made a single appearance when New Orleans was ransacked, when humanity had started to win, they’d been taken before the first skirmish.

She’d die that the day they were killed. So would thousands of others. The witches and lone werewolves would be all that was left of the Supernatural legacy. The uncertainty of it, the cold knowledge that she couldn’t do anything about it, left dead a knot in her stomach.

Sometimes, Caroline wondered if she’d see her mom again.

“I’m sorry.”

Caroline turned to look at Bonnie then. “Why are you sorry?”

Her friend took a deep breath and looked up, eyes wet. “That this happened. That I can’t extend my life to help you fight anymore. For everything.”

“You’re not to blame for other people’s choices, Bon Bon. You’re my best friend. There isn’t anything to forgive.”

A sudden wind blew at Bonnie’s hair, and Caroline’s heart started to pound. Bonnie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Caroline tried to move, to warn Bonnie that this was too much magic, that the hunters would find them. But she couldn’t.

“I made promises too. Please don’t forget me.”

Oh, Bonnie.

It was her last coherent thought. There was a sensation like her bones melting, then everything melted sideways.

There was a hybrid watching her.

Caroline glanced down at her burner phone, the small hairs on the back of her neck tingling as she walked down the snow filled street. The world she’d found herself in had been a shock, and she was nowhere near finding her footing. Here, the war that had so decimated her life had raged, but instead of humanity, it was the Originals who had prevailed.

She hadn’t been surprised to hear stories of the atrocities committed by the Mikaelson’s. The ruthlessness. Whatever understanding of the universe she might have had previously no longer applied here. Humanity was in ruins, carefully cultivated and organized. There were pockets where resistance fighters still held territory, but those were diminishing every year.

Now, whose line you belonged too was everything. Vampires were at the top of the food chain, and it was a ruthless world, where your life was lived at the mercy of the Original who made you. Caroline had done everything she could to avoid letting anyone discover that she belonged to Klaus.

But hybrids were a problem. Whatever magic Klaus had bargained for with the witches, it was the hybrids who could suss out a line just by the scent of a vampire. More importantly, whoever a hybrid roamed, Klaus wasn’t far behind.

She needed to get out of the city.

She had been unable to figure out where the universe had changed. It was clear that Klaus had Elena, but Caroline was uncertain about her role. She’d found her grave, set prettily next to her mother’s, but that could have meant nothing.

Turning sharply into an alley, she froze. Heart leaping into her throat, lungs stuttering in her chest, she went absolutely still at the sight of Klaus. He was waiting for her, shoulder braced against the alley wall, eyes ringed in yellow.

“Hello, Caroline,” he drawled, smile a slow, dangerous blade. “That is what you go by, is it not?”

“Yes,” she said shortly, spine iron straight as he pushed off the wall and moved towards her. There was nothing welcoming in his expression, every instinct she had burning in warning. Klaus was angry, and she was the target.

“You’re a hard vampire to track down.” He said, tone nearly conversational. “I admit, when I received the first report of your existence, I expected you to come to me. Imagine my surprise when you didn’t.”

“Why would I?”

A hint of dimple left her stomach flipping, and then he was close enough to touch. Her fingers itched to reach for him, to confirm he was real. It’d been seventy years since she’d seen him, felt him, and she found that the monster she’d cultivated to survive craved his touch.

“Why? What other use would you have for this particular face?” Klaus queried, touch deceptively gentle as he dragged a single fingertip along her chin. “Tell me, where did you get it?”

The realization that not only had she known Klaus, that she likely was dead in this world, shook her. Cursing mentally, she pushed his hand away and set her chin stubbornly. “When did I die?”

His eyes flared, yellow taking over the blue entirely. Veins crawled beneath his eyes, and the double fangs that were such a threat sent a hot bolt of lust through her gut. Those feral eyes narrowed, and his head canted as he took a slow breath. She should have been embarrassed by the way she knew he could smell her unexpected arousal, but it was the slight hint of confusion that made her wary.

“A witch can mimic many things,” he nearly purred, gaze calculating and dangerous as he stepped so close her breasts brushed his chest. His hands cupped her jaw carefully, and she nearly shuddered at the danger in that delicate hold. “How she looked, how she sounded. The feel of her skin, but I’ve yet to find one who managed to mimic so accurately the smell of her arousal. Who are you?”

Caroline knew down to her bones, that if he didn’t like her answer, he’d kill her. But backing down wasn’t a choice. Her hands came up to grip his wrists, nails biting into his skin for all that she made no move to tug him away. “Did you know that Bonnie has a pet theory about time travel?”

She exhaled slowly at the way he went still and watchful, thumbs brushing her cheeks. She didn’t the caress as a sign of softening, if anything it heightened her alarm. As if he was indulging a need he couldn’t help, that he wouldn’t have the chance to sate again.

“Perhaps.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Stop being an ass.”

The sudden feeling of the brick wall against her spine nearly drove the the air from her lungs. The veneer of calmness was stripped from his face, and his smile was a terrible thing. “Caroline Forbes died warning me about a human uprising that planned on wiping out the supernatural. When I found the remains of her body, they’d cut her into pieces, burned her heart and left her head on a spike for me to find.”

Her vampire face crawled to the surface, and she bared her fangs. “We don’t know what happened to you in my world. You just disappeared.”

“Did I?” He taunted. “Why should I believe you?”

She growled, and he blocked her kick easily. Tossing her head, she glared. “Let go.”

“Wishing for death already?”

She head butted him and he snarled, teeth white and sharp near her throat. “Do you know what it’s like to die from a hybrid bite?”

She pressed her mouth against his ear, refusing to flinch at the threat. “Of course I do. Twice, in fact. I also know how hard I come with your teeth in my throat, my thigh.”

She’d have missed the slight shiver, had they not been locked so tightly together. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wiggled against him. “You want proof? Let me go.”

Caroline had almost expected the bite, the sharp burn of his teeth, and she bit her tongue viciously to hold back the whimper. His head lifted a moment later, and he looked nearly dazed, eyes slightly unfocused. She ignored the cool sting, the way her blood slid against her skin as she shoved him back.

Holding his eyes as they refocused, something she couldn’t read gathering behind his eyes, she yanked off her jacket, and let it fall to the floor as she reached for her hem. Yanking her shirt off, Caroline spun and showed him the lines of her back.

The scars no vampirism could heal.

There was a long silence, and the burn was starting to hurt when his fingertips grazed across her back. “What is this?”

She bit her lip at the ice in his voice. “I take it the human faction never got this far?”

A breath, then the breadth of his palm spread across the worse of the scarring. “No.”

“Bonnie thought magic could eventually counter it, but it would bring too much attention to try. Humanity found a way to damage vampires in a way they couldn’t immediately heal. Magic, we think. I got this one, rescuing Bonnie from a witch concentration camp.”

He spun her around with no warning, and Caroline hissed a complaint. His face was unreadable as he bit into his wrist and offered it to her. She took it with relief, but the sudden tightening of her chest at her first taste of him, the burning behind her eyes, caught her off guard. She swallowed frantically, until he pulled away. Then, carefully, he pushed her a bloody curl away from her chin.

“Tell me about the Bennett witches thoughts on timetravel.”

She licked away the taste of him from her lips, shuddered. “Sideways. She believes it’s a matter of going sideways.”

This time his hold was almost tender. Something wild behind his eyes. His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a need she’d never heard before.

“Caroline.”

Then he wrenched her neck, and her world went black.