#was in quite possibly the worst pain of my life bc my feet flared up

[mars-ipan]

morphine :)

[lalainajanes]

I teased this one ages ago! Sorry, rl got in the way! Do me a favor and cross your fingers that my bosses agree to start letting ups work from home a couple days a week next year bc that will make my life waaaayyy easier.

You’re Better Than Normal (Part Two) 

Part One

Caroline shifts from sleep to wakefulness violently, with a jerk and a gasp. She can’t trust the fuzzy place between the two.

She’s yet to manage a decent stretch of rest. She dreams of walls that shift closer and closer no matter how hard she tries to force them back. Of Bonnie fading and weakening when no rescue comes. Of Bonnie hanging in there until Caroline gets so thirsty.

Those are the worst.

She fights her way out of the nightmares and her body reacts accordingly. Each time she wakes she’s rigid, ready to use every ounce of her strength to get free.

Klaus is always there to remind her that she is.

This time her palms slam into his chest when she tries to spring to her feet. She snaps into lucidity when his body gives in a way the ground wouldn’t. He inhales sharply but makes no other noise of shock or pain, just grabs her wrists firmly. “Caroline, wake up.”

Caroline’s eyes pop open, only to close quickly when the light stings. She relaxes as the memories – of the last few hours, of yesterday - flood her. She inhales deeply in relief before she slumps back down. There’s a lamp on the bedside table, the shade off so it’s as bright as possible. “Ouch,” she grumbles, tucking her forehead against Klaus’ chest.

He laughs and his hands glide up her arms, his thumbs rubbing circles against her stiff shoulders. “You seemed not to appreciate the lack of light the last, oh, half-dozen times you woke.”

She’d been so sure she was back in the cave when she’d found herself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unbroken darkness. Her throat had tightened, her breathing growing ragged and painful. Klaus had asked what was wrong and parsed the issue from her frantic gestures and garbled words.

He’d left the bed long enough to solve the problem, had brushed off her weak protests that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He’d said he’s gone weeks without sleeping while on the run, without slowing or resting, so he wouldn’t even notice a few nights spent awake in the comfort of a bed.

When it had been silence that made her uneasy, he’d talked. About what Caroline’s not quite sure because the words had mattered less than his voice.

She’d grown used to noise while she slept in various hostels and hotels in Europe. People shifting across the room or through too thin walls, city noise streaming in through open windows. Birds chirping and trees rustling the few times they’d ventured somewhere more rustic.

The cave had been quiet.

“Sorry,” Caroline says, not for the first time. “For, well, you know.”

Keeping him up, invading his bed, being so freaking needy. It’s an ever-lengthening list.

She bites back a moan when he digs into a particularly tight knot near her spine. “Stop apologizing,” Klaus chides.

Again.

The first ‘I’m sorry’ she’d muttered had been mortified. They’d moved to a bed but she hadn’t allowed Klaus even a fraction of an inch of personal space. Each time she barrels into alertness she’s half on top of him. Her hands are always on his skin, gripping too tightly.

He’s yet to complain.

She sighs, turns her head to rest her ear against his heart. “It must be almost morning.”

“Nearly.” He doesn’t seem particularly eager to start his day.

“Bonnie’s still asleep?”

“Yes. We’ll know when she stirs,” Klaus promises. Elijah’s with her, he’d explained. That there were plenty of other vampires he could have posted but Elijah had offered, reasoning it was best that someone familiar attend to Bon.

“How long has it been now?”

“About fourteen hours.”

So an hour longer than when she’d last asked. She’s kind of impressed that Klaus doesn’t sound more annoyed. “I’m…”

This time Klaus doesn’t allow the apology. “Worried about your oldest friend, I know. If she’s not up in another few hours I’ll send someone to fetch a doctor.”

“Have house calls made a comeback in the twenty…” Caroline pauses abruptly, lets the joke die. She doesn’t even know what century it is.

“Second,” Klaus tells her softly, his palm flattening on her back like he’s braced for her to rear away.

Caroline doesn’t move much, lets the news sink in. Honestly, she’s kind of relieved. She’s had no real way to guess – Klaus and his siblings will look the same if a hundred or a thousand years had passed. “Are we talking early twenty-second century?”

Hey, she’s always been an optimist.

“Mid,” Klaus says, a touch regretfully. “Just on the cusp of late, mathematically speaking.”

That startles a choked noise of amusement from Caroline. She taps his chest lightly, “Nerd.”

Klaus doesn’t react much to the teasing but then he’s definitely been called worse. “Do you want a specific date? Or would you prefer to ease into it a bit?”

Caroline takes a deep breath, then another. She’d told herself she’d face her problems head on in the morning. It’s time to stop procrastinating. “No, let’s get it over with. How long did I spend molding in a cave, Klaus?”

She shivers involuntarily, remembering just how long it had taken for the water in the shower to run clean.

His hand starts to move, gliding up and down the length of her back. It’s an attempt at comfort that she wouldn’t have thought Klaus capable of, once upon a time. “One hundred and forty-seven years.”

She’s always been a fan of numbers. In goals that could be measured. Timelines. When Klaus gives her the number – the length of time she’s been gone – her brain whirls, trying to quantify it.

One hundred and forty-seven years equals two human lifetimes, almost. It’s roughly ten percent of Klaus’ very long life. Almost eight times as many years as she’d lived. Caroline can’t decide whether she should laugh or cry or scream.

“And a few months, I believe,” Klaus adds softly.

A few months doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things but Caroline does appreciate precision. It had been the very beginning of spring when they’d returned to Mystic Falls. After a winter in Greece neither she nor Bonnie had been happy to find their hometown chilly and damp. “What’s the date?”

“September 30th. Twenty-one-sixty-four.”

“Huh. Just in time for my…” Caroline thinks for a minute, “…172nd birthday.” She’s technically older than Stefan had been when they’d met. Damon too, she’s pretty sure.

“I know,” Klaus murmurs. “I’ll have to scrounge you up a gift.”

Caroline lifts her head, glad he’s given her an opening to quit obsessing over a length of time she truly can’t even fathom. She glares at him playfully, “You’ll scrounge? You, a birthday enthusiast, will scrounge for a gift for the first birthday I’ve been aware of in a century and a half?”

He smiles at her and shifts so he’s propped against the bed’s padded headboard, easily moving Caroline with him. She stretches out her legs, wonders if she should move. Discards the idea when Klaus’ fingers sink into her hair. He matches her feigned outrage with a taunt, “I know you love surprises so I wouldn’t want to spoil anything. I may have a suitable item or two laying around.”

Hmm. Would it be rude to snoop? Probably. Is she going to do it anyway? Of course. Hopefully cake is still a thing in the twenty-second century.

“I hate surprises.”

She feels his amusement this time, rumbling through his chest under her head. “I’m well aware, love.” Klaus rubs at the base of her skull and Caroline finds her eyes drooping, unable to form a clever comeback. She knows she won’t sleep properly but a few more minutes of rest might be a good idea.

She wants to be sharp when Klaus’ guests arrive.

* * * * *

Caroline paces, waiting for Bonnie to wake. It's been at nearly eighteen hours and Caroline’s worry is mounting. Bonnie seems okay – she’s not too hot or too cold, doesn’t look like she’s in any pain or distress. She looks like she’s just sleeping well.

Kol’s insisting that’s exactly what’s happening, that it’s normal for witches to need to rest after big spells to recharge. He’s made the proclamation at breakfast, while double fisting blood and bourbon, in the most man-splain-y way possible, and Caroline’s temper had flared.

"Bonnie is not a freaking battery!" She’d snapped, her hands hitting the table hard enough to send cutlery rattling. Kol had leaned forward, his lips twisted condescendingly. Whatever he’d been about to say had been cut off by the warning look Klaus had leveled his way. It had promised retribution and so Kol had refrained from snapping back.

Or snapping Caroline’s neck.

She'd left the breakfast table (and it's weird, unidentifiable, array of food-like things) in a huff. After a few wrong turns she’d found her way to the room they'd deposited Bonnie in last night. She'd been soothed by Bonnie's strong heartbeat, by the steady rhythm of her breaths. She'd relaxed enough to accept the glass of blood Rebekah had dropped off, had even remembered her manners and muttered a thanks.

Rebekah had left quickly, telling Caroline to yell if she was too dim to remember how to work the shower, leaving the door ajar.

She'd downed the blood quickly and rinsed the glass (managing just fine, Rebekah). Bonnie’s a little uneasy about the whole blood drinking vampire thing. Better than she had been but, when they’d been travelling together, Caroline had gotten into the habit of hiding her meals as much as possible.

Unable to sit still any longer, nervous energy thrumming through her body, she'd started to move.

It takes fourteen strides, from wall to wall, and she's never been more grateful for Klaus' penchant for opulence. She's making lists in her head. There’s so much she’ll need to know, a million things she'll have to do. Like, how's she going to go about getting a driver's license? Do people still have those? Or is there a retinal scan, or some creepy microchip implanted in your body? Caroline had never been much for sci fi movies, something she deeply regrets now that her life has become one.

She's got her ears focused on Bonnie, however, recognizes the little annoyed noise Bonnie always makes when she's about to wake up. Caroline's in the chair beside the bed in under a second, legs pulled up under her, trying to look casual and like she's not freaking out.

The attempt is pointless, Bonnie's known her forever, and it only takes a second before her green eyes sharpen and focus on Caroline. "How bad is it?" Bonnie asks, resigned because she’s way too accustomed to doom and gloom.

They’d been doing so well on their own. They’d been away for months without even the tiniest threat of danger.

Caroline chews on the inside of her lip for a second, considering how to answer. She can't lie, won't lie, but a little stalling might be a kindness. Just until Bonnie has a chance to shower and eat. "Honestly? It's not great, Bon. But we're alive. We’ve got… help.” She’d almost said friends but that would have been pushing it.

Bonnie closes her eyes again, “This bed is an improvement over the cave.”

“That’s the spirit. I felt a bajillion times better after a shower.”

When Bonnie sits up and kicks the blankets aside, the sheets are no longer white. She makes a disgusted face at the grit and grime covering her body, "Gross. I can't believe I fell asleep like this."

"You were right out," Caroline tells her. "Rebekah tucked you in and you didn't even notice."

"Weird. I wish you hadn't told me that."

Caroline cracks a smile at the mildly disgusted look Bonnie wears, "Don't worry. I have it on good authority that Nice Rebekah will be a fleeting presence. We'll probably miss her once Bitch Rebekah rears her ugly head."

"I heard that!" Rebekah bellows from several rooms away.

Caroline looks away, from Bonnie. She'll start giggling if she doesn't and that will likely not endear either of them to Rebekah.

Caroline’s stronger than she had been but Damon will be too. If things get violent, well, she wants all The Originals on her side.

Once she's swallowed down her laughter she stands, brushing her hands together, "You'll have to bear with me. Everything in the bathroom is crazy fancy and I've only been in it once. I'm pretty sure there's no boil humans alive setting though."

"Are you sure?" Bonnie asks dryly. "You're aware of just who lives here? Might be something they do for fun."

Klaus, with his impeccable timing, chooses that moment to poke his head in the door, "Now why would we overcook a perfectly good meal?"

Bonnie glares, dark and deadly, and Caroline hastily steps into her line of sight, in case she starts throwing magic around. "He's joking, Bon. Klaus just doesn't realize that he's not actually funny."

She shoots him her own quelling look, more exasperated than upset, and he merely smirks back, leaning against the open doorway. "Nonsense, my sense of humor is delightful, everyone says so."

"People you're attempting to kill, I'm guessing? I think that counts as duress and you should assume they're lying."

Klaus places a hand over his heart, his face dropping into an exaggeratedly wounded expression. Caroline rolls her eyes, "Did you need something?"

He turns serious in an instant, "Yes, actually. Our guests will be arriving within the hour." Klaus' eyes flit over to Bonnie, and Caroline glances over to find her friend looking puzzled at Klaus' words. She’s not going to start explaining with Klaus in the room. There are things Bonnie needs to hear from Caroline. Privately. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to see them," she says.

He nods in acceptance, rocks back a step, before turning to leave. A thought occurs to Caroline, one she's kind of ashamed is just now popping up. "One sec, Bon," she says, before darting out the room after Klaus. He turns, a brow raised, and she invades his personal space to speak quietly.

It’s weird she even notices considering how she’d spent last night draped all over him.

"Bonnie's mom was a vampire. Can you find out what happened to her? If she's still around?"

"I can," Klaus says. "I even have a reasonably good idea of where to start looking."

"Good. Thank you. Can you let Enzo know what I'm doing? I'll find him as soon as I can."

"And our other guests?" Klaus asks mildly. "Any specifications for how I treat them?"

She knows what he's asking, wonders what it says about her that her first instinct is to ask for a little bloodshed, Damon's in particular. "Are their memories still gone?"

"Yes. It was a clever spell. Your little witch friend is the only person who can break it."

Caroline's not surprised. Of course Damon would craft the tiniest loophole possible. "Then I think they should be comfortable."

“Such generosity.”

“Comfortable for now.” Until their memories have returned, and they’ve confessed to the exact series of events that had led to Caroline and Bonnie losing so many years.

Klaus' eyes gleam, a slow, pleased smile tugging at his lips, "I’ve always enjoyed the way your mind works."

She remembers, had always found it flattering, his intrigue with her brain when so many had only seen a pretty face or attractive body. What does it mean that it's endured?

Klaus tips his head, gestures to the room behind her, "You'd best return, it sounds like someone's getting impatient."

She can hear Bonnie moving around, now that he mentions it, "Right. I should," Still Caroline hesitates. She wants to say thank you, again, but she feels like she's already said it so many times. Knows she'll probably need to say it more, over the coming days and weeks.

"I'll send someone with a tray of food, in a bit. And you may find me, if you need anything."

"Klaus…" Caroline murmurs, trailing off helplessly. She can't find the words but she's always been good at actions. Before she can second guess herself, she puts her hand on his shoulder, rises and brushes her lips over his cheek. He stiffens, and his eyes are slightly wider when she pulls back, trained on her face. She feels a momentary surge of satisfaction at having caught him off guard.

Surely not many can claim the same.

Caroline lets her hand slide down his arm, before she steps back. Throws him on last smile, before she turns on her heel.

Klaus, and all the things between them, will keep. He's proven that. Right now, Bonnie needs her more.

* * * * *

“What? That’s insane. Impossible. She can’t be a vampire. She took the cure. Katherine tried to turn back, remember?”

Bonnie’s restless, crackling with energy. She’s pacing the room, just as Caroline had earlier. They’ve thrown all the curtains in but there’s not a whole lot of natural light to be found. Clouds pack the sky, sitting low and heavy, like a storm threatens. They hadn’t been able to figure out how to open the windows but at least the room is big and well lit.

They’re avoiding the view. Caroline vaguely recognizes the back grounds of Klaus’ Mystic Falls home but it looks way different. Once carefully manicured it’s now little more than a few scraggly patches of brown-yellow grass dotted over rocks and cracked soil. The outbuildings are crumbling and weather beaten and the stone paths that had once wound around the house no longer visible.

Caroline’s doing her best to project calm. So not her forte but she’s had a good chunk of time to process. Someone to lean on (in the most literal sense of the word) and answer her questions. “Bon, you’re a witch. Once upon a time we thought that was impossible.”

Bonnie’s head swivels to shoot Caroline an annoyed look. Caroline’s sitting cross legged at the end of the bed and she tips her head to the side and maintains eye contact until Bonnie huffs out an irritated sigh and resumes walking. “Fine, I will give you that one.”

“Why thank you.”

“She wouldn’t though. Elena never wanted to be a vampire.”

That’s kind of a sticking point for Caroline too. Klaus hadn’t known how or why Elena had turned but he’d had theories. Caroline goes with the most generous, “Maybe it was life or death again. She chose to be a vampire rather than die the first time. If she had to choose again...”

“She wouldn’t sacrifice us though. That’s not Elena.”

Caroline’s not so sure.

Elena had chosen sleep knowing that the future she wanted was on pause. That Damon would be waiting for her, and Stefan would remain unchanged. That she could have everything her little heart desired when she woke up and that she wouldn’t even suffer the agony of waiting. If something threatened that future? Caroline doesn’t trust that Elena’s selflessness would have held.

She’d let go of the things Elena had said and done with her humanity off, had known that holding on to her anger was pointless when Elena hadn’t even been willing to entertain the idea of an apology. She’d rationalized that it wasn’t really Elena. Then she’d flipped her own switch and she’d been entirely herself. The worst parts of herself that she’d tried to temper, yes, but she’s not going to deny they exist. She’s ruthless and blunt, and capable of terrible things in pursuit of her goals.

Some might label those traits as flaws but privately Caroline thinks they can be strengths too.

Elena had always been selective about the flaws she was willing to overlook, a teeny bit in denial about the ones she possessed.

Damon and Stefan were gifted limitless chances. Other people not so much.

Sometime after Damon and Stefan had shown up Elena’s universe had narrowed. Caroline had been aware of just who existed at the center of it. If Damon was the sun and Stefan the moon, destined to be stuck to Elena’s side, Caroline had figured she and Bonnie were planets. Their orbits would grow bigger, away from Mystic Falls, but that they’d still be important. They’d keep track of each other, share milestones, celebrate success and band together in tragedy.

That may have been too rosy a view. Maybe, to Elena, she’s Pluto. Easily demoted.

“She’s here, according to Klaus. Damon and Stefan too. That wouldn’t be possible if she hadn’t turned.”

Bonnie pauses, her head snapping up and her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Are they the guests Klaus was talking about? He sounded extra smarmy.”

“Yup. Their memories are all messed up. Klaus thinks you’re the only witch on the planet with a fix.”

“Klaus thinks,” Bonnie repeats and there’s a whole heap of distaste in those two little words.

Oh boy.

“I know you don’t like him,” Caroline begins.

“That’s understating it a bit.”

Caroline decides it’s prudent to ignore the interruption. “Or trust him. And you don’t have to. But maybe give him some credit for springing us yesterday.” Caroline’s not sure she would have been able to do it on her own. She’s definitely sure that she wouldn’t have been fast enough for Bonnie to make it out with no ill effects.

“Yeah, about that. He says it’s been a hundred and forty seven years, how did he happen to show up in the exact right place at the exact right time?”

Caroline had really been hoping to avoid that question.

But she’s not going to lie. Or even sugar coat. She and Bonnie need to be a united front.

“Klaus has been… searching for descendants of the witch who sealed us in.”

“And?” Bonnie prompts because she really knows Caroline too well.

“And killing them. If they proved unable to help.” She’s not well versed in the intricacies of magic. Only knows that there’s usually a whole heap of terms and conditions. Klaus had explained, sometime last night, when Caroline had been failing at sleep, that the original witch had anchored the spell to her line. That Damon had compelled her very human husband as a means of making her cooperate. She’d refused to lift it no matter what Klaus had offered or threatened.

Damon had, apparently, used every ounce of self-serving cunning and self-preserving intelligence he’d possessed. Without any memory of the undoubtedly heinous orders he’d given the witch’s husband, Damon couldn’t be forced to undo his compulsion. The spell to seal his memories away had involved Bonnie’s blood and the spell to return them required the same ingredients.

And Bonnie was trapped, her blood well out of reach.

Klaus had seethed with frustration as he’d explained, his body a solid mass of tension where they’d been pressed together. His hands had remained gentle, however, his fingers in her hair soothing.

Caroline still wears his scent on her skin and she’s glad Bonnie’s human senses can’t detect it.

“How many?” Bonnie demands.

“You know, I didn’t ask,” Caroline replies, and that’s not a lie. She hadn’t wanted a count for this very reason.

Bonnie rolls her shoulders, a hand coming up to rub at the back of her neck. “I think I need a couple minutes. To make this all make sense. Is that okay?”

Caroline’s already rising and she scoffs, “Of course it’s okay. We’ve dealt with a whole lot of crazy but this is a brand-new level of nuts. You can have all the time you need to process.”

Bonnie smiles. Just a tiny wan quirk of her lips but Caroline will take it. “Thanks, Care.”

“Come downstairs whenever you’re ready. Klaus has been hoarding spell books that might help with the memory thing but honestly, there’s no rush.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Caroline Forbes?”

It’s a terrible joke but Caroline lets that slide. She shrugs, turning when she reaches the door. “It’s not life or death. I’m alive, you’re alive. Everything else we can figure out, right?”

Bon blinks a little, her eyes shining, and Caroline swallows passed a lump in her throat, rushing forward and throwing her arms around Bonnie. She watches her strength, mindful of how much it’s grown, how weak Bonnie had been just yesterday. Bonnie returns the pressure, her breathing shaky, “We’ll figure it out,” Caroline repeats.

This time it’s a promise, one she intends to keep.

* * * * *

Caroline had been on her way back to her room to wash her face and fix her hair. When she’d gotten closer to the staircase she’d heard the voices. They’re too quiet for her to make out the words but one voice is new, just slightly familiar. Her feet take her down the steps quickly, towards an open door.

There’s no real point in cleaning away the evidence of tears. Enzo had always been annoyingly perceptive about her emotional state and, with the events of the last 24 hours, Caroline’s in no position to attempt to act like she’s okay.

Besides, he’s seen her look far worse.

Caroline deeply regrets the hair and leather pants related mistakes she’d made with her humanity off.

She’s not trying to be stealthy and the conversation pauses, a glass hits a table with a clink.

Her hand touches the door and then everything gets blurry. There’s a crash, she feels a whoosh of air, hears a groan and a tear. Caroline shakes her head, blinks, finds herself staring at the back of Klaus’ neck. Enzo’s there too, right in front of Klaus, wide-eyed and unconcerned about the death grip Klaus has on the collar of his jacket.

She’ll chalk that up to his total lack of a survival instinct.

“Manners, Lorenzo,” Klaus warns, mostly friendly but with the tiniest edge of a threat.

Caroline brushes passed Klaus, a laugh bubbling out of her. She plows into Enzo and he grunts but lifts her off her feet in a bone crushing hug. “It has been far too long,” he mutters into her hair.

She returns the embrace just as fiercely, “Doesn’t feel that long for me but I have missed you.” Enzo sets her down and Caroline notes the room’s other occupant. Kol’s here, slouched on a leather sofa. He lifts his glass in her direction in welcome, Caroline supposes he’s over their breakfast table spat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” Kol drawls.

Enzo shoots him a casual rude gesture and Klaus laughs softly behind her. His hand presses into her hip briefly, drawing Caroline’s attention. “Drink, love?” he murmurs.

She’s hopeful the booze is less terrible than the food. “Yes, please.”

He makes his way to a cart across the room. It holds glasses, several crystal decanters, Klaus pops the top on one and pours a more than healthy portion. Caroline drops down into an armchair, curls her legs under her. Enzo pats her head and she swats at him but he’s still much faster than her, dodging easily as he throws himself down next to Kol.

And props his feet on the coffee table. Caroline glares a little but he grins at her, unrepentant. Caroline half expects Klaus to comment but he doesn’t seem bothered, leans against the arm of her chair after handing her a glass.

“How’s the little witch?” Kol asks, as if he’s genuinely interested.

“Fully recharged,” Caroline tells him. “She wanted a little time alone to process but she’ll be down later.”

“Have you told her…” Klaus lets the sentence hang.

“Everything I know, she knows.” Caroline twists her head to study Klaus’ reaction, searching for a hint of displeasure of disapproval.

Klaus only nods, “Did you discuss what we’d like done with our other guests?”

“Not really.” She and Bonnie had only decided that the first order of business would be to figure out how to restore the memories that Elena and the Salvatores apparently lacked. “I’d like for them to be kept comfortable. Until we can make them remember.”

AKA warm and fed with all their organs and extremities intact.

She watches Kol as she says it. Klaus had already agreed but she remembers Kol being volatile, fond of bats and not a big fan of Damon.

He moans in exaggerated disappointment, his head rolling back against the couch, his expression growing petulant. “You, darling, are a bit of a fun killer, aren’t you?”

“Elijah’s settling them,” Klaus tells her, ignoring his brother’s complaint. “In separate, well stocked rooms.”

“Cells, technically,” Enzo pipes up.

Kol cheers up a bit, “Well, at least that’s a little bit of torture. As clingy and nauseating at their little triangle is.”

“Did Elena go back to Stefan?”

“Back and forth. Back and forth,” Enzo drawls. “For ages.”

“Took her far too long to work out that she didn’t have to,” Kol adds. “Imagine, being a hundred years old and only just realizing you’ve options other than monogamy?”

Unfortunately, Caroline had just taken a sip of her drink. She chokes on it and her throat burns. Her eyes water and she coughs while Klaus pats her on the back. He sounds distinctly amused when he speaks, “She insisted on living with humans. Got a little caught up in the norms.”

“This is really too much information,” Caroline manages, her voice weak. She’s also seriously regretting her honesty is the best policy vow. This is not gossip she wants to have to relay to Bonnie.

“Jealous? You’d developed a bit of a thing for Stefan, hadn’t you?”

Ugh. Had it just been a few minutes ago that she’d been elated to see Enzo?

Klaus straightens next to her, putting more distance between their bodies and lifting his hand away. This time, Caroline does not check his reaction. “I got over that pretty quickly, thank you very much.”

“Oh?” Enzo asks, like he doesn’t believe her.

Caroline takes another sip of her drink, this time welcoming the fire when she swallows. “I wasn’t good with change. With everything that happened with my mom…” Caroline hadn’t been ready to lose her mother. She’d had plans – she’d wanted to graduate college and get a job, to make her mom proud while she could, knowing that by the time she hit thirty-five or so she wouldn’t be able to show her face in Mystic Falls without whispers starting.

With her mother’s death Caroline’s reasons for playing at being human evaporated. She’d taken a leap, dropped out of college, and bought a plane ticket. Had quickly realized that there were plenty of new experiences worth having.

“Stefan was familiar,” Caroline says, keeping it simple because Kol really doesn’t need to know her personal business, outdated though it is. “After I left I found I didn’t actually need familiar.”

“I could have told you that.”

She makes a face, barely resists the urge to stick out her tongue. Enzo’s not the least bit chastised. His boots squeak against the polished coffee table as he gets comfortable. “Tell me, Gorgeous, what’s the plan then? We just wait?”

She’s about to snap an apology for inconveniencing him but Klaus speaks first, “It shouldn’t be too long. I believe we have the spell, the wi…” Caroline sees him glance at her when he pauses. He smiles at her, all warmth and dimples, and corrects himself. “Bonnie just has to look it over. It’ll take a few days to track down the necessary ingredients but she likely shouldn’t be spilling blood immediately, given her condition.”

“Is my usual room ready?” Enzo asks.

It’s so weird that he has a usual freaking room.

“Of course,” Klaus answers, the tiniest hint of offense making the words come out clipped.

Caroline takes another drink. A bigger one. “I’m going to need the full story of how you two became bffs. Like, right now.”

Enzo smirks, his eyes growing gleeful, “It was a rocky road, Gorgeous. There was bloodshed, severed limbs.”

“His,” Klaus mutters darkly.

He doesn’t try to stop the story, however. Only interjects when Enzo begins to embellish and occasionally to supply extra details.

It’s not long until Caroline’s sides hurt from laughing.

For the first time she feels like maybe, somehow, she really will be okay.

* * * * *

It takes a minute for Elena to realize she’s no longer alone. Caroline hadn’t announced herself but she’s kind of surprised Elena’s not more alert. She looks miserable, wrapped in a blanket on the mattress in the corner of the cell. It’s not her only blanket, she’s got a whole pile. Pillows too. It’s only the locked door that makes the room a cell because it’s clean and dry and well lit.

Far nicer than a cave.

The door’s feature small barred cut-outs, high enough that Caroline doesn’t have to duck to look through them.

There are guards behind her, at the bottom of the staircase, but they hadn’t tried to stop or discourage her. Caroline thinks they’re hybrids but she’s not sure how that’s possible. It’s another question to add to her endless list. It’s mental list for now. Klaus had informed her that paper and pens were no longer commonly used. She’d been horrified and he’d smiled, had told he’d sacrifice one of his sketchbooks and some pencils for her until he could track down something suitable.

He’d offered a tablet too but nothing is as satisfying as striking off a task on paper.

Stefan had glanced up as she’d passed his cell. They’d eyed each other for a moment before he’d bowed his head once more.

It had felt like a dismissal and she’d be lying if she claimed it hadn’t annoyed her.

She can hear Damon moving, breathing harshly. Dull thuds that must be him slamming into the walls. Idly, she wonders if putting Elena in the center cell had been purposeful or coincidence. She doesn’t travel beyond Elena’s cell, has no pressing need to check on Damon.

Elena’s still a pretty crier, no snot or splotchy skin, just big fat tears and attractively clumped lashes. Her hair is shorter than Caroline’s ever seen it, resting just at her collarbones but that’s it. Physically, the Elena before her is identical to the Elena she’d always known.

Caroline taps at the door and Elena startles, springing from the bed and pressing her back to the wall. Her face is twisted in anger but confusion takes over when she spots Caroline. “Who are you?” she asks warily.

Well. That’s weird. She’d shared dolls with Elena, games of Candyland. Giggled about crushes and complained about pop quizzes. There’s no hint recognition in Elena’s red-rimmed eyes.  

She takes another step closer, “My name’s Caroline.”

Damon’s stilled and Stefan’s risen. A glance to her left and right shows the they’re peering out at her. Elena can’t see them and she’s waiting, like she expects a longer explanation. “Where’s your boss?” she spits, when Caroline remains quiet.

“I don’t have one of those.” Technically, she’s never had one of those. She’d had ideas about trying her hand at a career or two, hadn’t gotten the chance.

“Klaus,” Stefan cuts in. “Where is Klaus?”

Caroline shrugs, points upwards. He’s somewhere upstairs. Bonnie had emerged from her room, had begun to go through the research Klaus has compiled over the years. He’d excused himself to make a call, had said something about arranging for reinforcements. “I’m not a hybrid. Just a regular ol’ vampire. About the same age as you, actually. And I don’t work for Klaus.”

The noise Elena makes is disbelieving. “Sure you don’t. Why else would you be here? Unless you’re…” she trails off, her eyes flitting over Caroline in a way that’s familiar in it’s silent judgement. Caroline’s sure she’s trying to find a safe euphemism but she apparently fails. “…with him,” Elena finishes.

Caroline keeps her reply simple. She doesn’t owe anyone in this basement an explanation. “He’s helping me with something.”

“Klaus doesn’t help people.”

Technically false. “Really? I thought it was pretty helpful when he offered up a hybrid for you to kill so you didn’t spend a few decades going insane.”

Elena shrinks back, growing fearful once more. “How do you know about that?”

“We used to know each other.” Kind of an understatement but Elena’s not going to believe her anyway.

“We’ve never met.”

“We have,” Caroline counters. “I don’t actually remember when.”

Mystic Falls had been small, and big on community celebrations. She assumes she’d met Elena and Bonnie at one of them, had been plopped in a group with kids her age under the semi-attentive eye of whatever grown up was the most likely to go easy on the spiked punch.

Elena’s watching her with some measure of concern. Caroline can’t blame her. A stranger, talking nonsense, while you’re trapped in a cell is bound to be alarming.

She should probably apologize for the kidnapping thing but she’s not sure if Elena deserves it.

Elena moves forward again, her big brown eyes once again pleading, and her voice turns soft. “Listen, Caroline. If you need help, I’ll help you. We’ll help you if you get us out. But Klaus is… Klaus is bad news, okay? You need to get me out of here. Damon and Stefan too. He’s going to kill us. Torture us.”

A demand, one that’s annoyingly condescending. Not even a request.

“He’s not going to torture you.”

Caroline’s hoping that, whatever went down, Elena had been kept in the dark. Damon and Stefan had tended to get high handed and she thinks it’s plausible that they’d decided on a course of action for Elena, had decided what her best interest was and hadn’t cared about collateral damage.

The door to the next cell rattles and she hears a strangled grunt. Glancing over Caroline sees Damon, his pale blue eyes just as startling as she remembers. He’s livid, his color high and his mouth is ringed with dried blood. He makes more sounds, feral inarticulate noises that don’t resemble actual words.

Elena’s frantic, stretched up on her toes, her head pressed to the bars but there’s no way she can see Damon. She glares at Caroline, “Do you not consider cutting out a tongue torture?”

A throat clears behind her and one of the guard pipes up, “Technically, that was Kol.”

Ah. She should have known. He’d acquiesced so easily.

Caroline wonders if she should be outraged but she finds she can’t muster the energy. ““I mean, it is but it’ll grow back.”

Elena gasps, “That’s not the point.”

“The Damon I remember was really bad at knowing when to shut up.”

Elena recoils, watching Caroline warily now. “And that makes it okay?”

It’s not a debate Caroline’s willing to entertain, especially when there’s no point in reminding Elena what a giant freaking hypocrite she’s being.

Stefan says her name, catching her attention. “Caroline,” he repeats, drawing out the syllables. “Klaus asked us about you. Several times.”

This time the noise Damon makes is a snarl and Caroline figures those were not civilized conversations. “Like I said, he’s been helping me.”

“For a hundred years?”

“More like a hundred and fifty.”

She can still read Stefan. He’s measuring her, trying to figure out how loyal she is to Klaus, if he can use her. He’s going to be disappointed. “An awfully long time,” he finally says, carefully neutral.

Caroline laughs even though none of her present company will get the joke, “Didn’t feel like it.”

She studies each of her old friends in turn. Stefan’s got his brows furrowed in frustration, Damon’s tense like he’s considering going for her throat, thick doors be damned. Elena’s sad and anxious, her knuckles white where they clutch the edge of the window.

Part of her hadn’t understood what it meant that she’d been erased. She’d half expected recognition. That seeing her in the flesh would shake whatever magic that had been weaved loose. She’d hoped for answers. At the very least she’d wanted a target for her anger.

Of course it’s not that simple.

* * * * *

She’d planned to sleep in her own bed.

Had showered, explored the bottles and tubes of sweet-smelling lotions and creams that had appeared in the bathroom adjacent to the room she’d been given. Had used up several hours making notes in the sketchbook Klaus had provided while scouring the internet for answers to some of her more practical questions.

She’s super disappointed that flying cars still haven’t become a common mode of transportation.

When she’d settled under the covers and closed her eyes she’d begun to get anxious. It wasn’t the silence because music hadn’t help. She’d turned on a lamp, just in case it was the dark. She’d grown tense as she’d lain there, struggling to take even inhales and exhales. Had thrown off the blankets once she’d grown hot and sweat slicked.

Her mind had kept returning to waking up alone, in the cave. To the moment when she’d realized she was trapped, when she hadn’t been sure if Bonnie was alive. She’d felt utterly alone and so scared. That same terror creeps into her bones, until she’s shaking and curled into a tight ball, her teeth grinding together.

Maybe she should have stuck it out. She’d known she was safe. That Bonnie was just next door, that it would be daylight again in just a few hours.

The longer she’d lain there, unsleeping, the harder it had been to tell herself that she needed to.

Why she should have to suffer? It’s not like Klaus is going to judge her or turn her away. He’d made that clear last night. She’s not sure what time it is when she gives up, only knows that she can’t hear a peep from any of the other occupants of the house.

She finds Klaus’ door wide open.

She can see him propped up in the center of his bed. He watches her approach, shifts to one side, an invitation he doesn’t bother to voice.

She reaches behind her once she crosses the threshold and shuts the door, fingers fumbling for a lock.

It’s warm when she tucks herself under the covers and she sighs and stretches out her legs, her muscles unclenching in relief. Klaus sinks down until his head rests on a pillow, on his side facing her. There’s no hint that she’s not welcome.

It used to make her jittery, the way Klaus looked at her. She’d tried to tell herself that he wasn’t actually interested, that he had a motive or a lack of other prospects in the immediate vicinity. That his pretty words were practiced lines and that he’d offered trips and trinkets to a thousand people before her.

Caroline knows she was wrong. That if she’d been only convenient he never would have bothered digging her out of that cave.

That should scare her.

Should.

Caroline pulls the heavy comforter over her shoulders, wonders if she should just say screw it and cross the few inches that separate her from Klaus now, or if she should make a show of getting heavy eyed and sleepy first.

“Something wrong with your bed, love?” Klaus teases.

Ugh, he’s so not going to let her get away with faking sleep before she gets hands-y, is he?

She rolls until she faces away from Klaus but rests against him. “Shut up,” she mutters, reaching back to grab his arm. She wraps it around her middle, rests her hand over top of his and squirms until they’re comfortably pressed together. He takes the hint beautifully, his legs bending to tangle with hers.

She feels him laughing, his breath against the back of her neck. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

They shift, settling, and Caroline finds that she can breathe easy now that she can focus on the faint thrum of Klaus’ heartbeat. “How did your visit downstairs go?” he asks.

Caroline scoffs, tugs at a leather cord on his wrist, “Like your minions didn’t report back my every word.”

“They would have. I didn’t ask.”

Caroline finds that she’s smiling, presses her face into the pillow to try to hide it. It’s a simple statement but it tells her that Klaus trusts her. She hadn’t expected that.

“They don’t remember me. I knew they wouldn’t but I still didn’t totally expect it. I felt… expendable a lot, you know? I thought I’d gotten past that but… they kind of brought that all back.”

His grip on her tightens, his stubble scraping her skin as he shakes his head. “You are not expendable.”

“I know,” she answers, firm and steady.

Caroline isn’t who she’d been when she’d called Mystic Falls home. Getting out had been good to her. She’d lost the instinct to second guess her actions, to wonder if her choices would negatively impact her friends. Outside of the tiny town, away from all the people who’d known her all her life, she hadn’t worried about anyone whispering about how she was disgracing her family name or embarrassing her mother.

She’d shed insecurities as she’d hopped planes and trains.

Caroline knows she deserves to be happy, that she matters. Leap frogging into the future hasn’t changed her mind.

“Good,” Klaus rumbles, a wealth of satisfaction in his tone.

Caroline shifts back slightly, nudging him with her elbow, “What? Did you seriously expect me to argue?”

She knows he’s smiling, can hear it in his taunt, “Are you implying that you’re not argumentative, love?”

Caroline twists to glare at him, “I’m going to ignore that obvious baiting because I recognize that I’m totally invading your space right now.”

“It’s not baiting, it’s a statement of fact. And I’m not implying it’s a defect. Quite the opposite, really.”

She studies Klaus carefully, judges that he’s being honest, and turns until her head’s once more resting on the pillow.  “So I like a lively debate, sue me,” she mutters.

Klaus laughs, so softly that she feels it more than hears it. Caroline closes her eyes, lets the warmth of him behind her help ease her into sleep.

Tomorrow’s bound to be another whirlwind of a day.

[cillianmurphy]

ocean eyes

I wrote this small story a few weeks ago and the response @robertdowneys​ gave me made me cry so I am putting it here under cut. It is, obviously, based on Billie’s ‘Ocean Eyes’ (bold are song lyrics) and is my first piece of creative writing after 2.5 years, so if u have feedback pls let me know. It’s gender neutral btw <3 I am very nervous to put my writing out here and I can only hope whoever reads it, likes it <3

warning: extreme fluff, sad ending (death tw)

best read on desktop bc of post formatting!

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I've been watching you  For some time

It was as if time stood still. Under the dazzling lights on the ceiling, also named the starry sky, you slowly moved throughout the crowd. With every step, people moved aside to let you pass through them. Seconds seemed like hours as you approached the person who had caught your eyes years before.  

Four years.

It had been four long years since your now betrothed caught your attention. You don’t know when your feelings for them had surfaced, but you did know they had your heart from the day you met them. For years you wished they would return the feelings you held for them. It was a drunkenness of the soul. You swore nothing came close to the feeling of being in love with the one person who would hold the key to your soul for the rest of eternity. An addiction was nothing compared to the feeling of being in love; it was intoxication.  

Can't stop staring At those oceans eyes

You don’t know why you fell in love with them. Maybe it was because of their courage, their loving heart or maybe that smile. That damned smile. Love works in mysterious ways and you don’t think you would ever know what exactly made you fall helplessly for your other half. They turned your dreams into reality; made your heart feel things you could not begin to comprehend. Your souls were tied to one another with a fierce grip, incapable of letting go of each other for even a second.  

As you approached your lover, you took a moment to take in their beauty. They were smiling gently, a smile reserved for you and you only. The tiny dimples at the edge of their lips, luscious and full. The lights of the ballroom glistened in their eyes; pinpricks of the gold above dancing in an orderly fashion.  

Those eyes.

They were beautiful beyond belief. The way the world reflected in them; you swore it made your knees weak. The colours of the iris mixed in the most exquisite way possible, caught your attention and pulled you in whenever you sneaked a glance towards your lover. It should be a criminal offence to have such mesmerising eyes, you thought. They held you captive and even if you were able to pull away, you didn’t want to. You wanted to get lost in them for hours on end.

And now, maybe now you knew why you fell in love with them in the first place. Their eyes were the windows to their soul, and they captivated you from the first glance, holding you hostage. They were the last thing you saw when you slept and the first when you woke up. When you looked in them, you saw forever. You sought comfort, love, peace in their dazzling eyes. They soothed you, words were rarely necessary.  

It was their eyes you fell in love with. And then the rest of them followed.

Burning cities And napalm skies

They held out their hand, waiting for yours. Slowly, you lifted your hand up to meet theirs and a shock of electricity went through your body. It was if your entire life with your fiancé flashed past your eyes. The good, the bad. Everything you had experienced with them, came back to you in the most intoxicating fashion. You remembered the moments where you woke up next to them, the peaceful mornings. How they dragged you off on adventures you could not begin to imagine before they took place. How you forced them to see the lighter side of life and stuck by them through the bad times, as they did for you.

Alas, life isn’t just full of good times. Like any relationship, bad times had fallen on you as well. Life isn’t always exquisite roses, sometimes it is thorns as well. Unfortunately, all love and hope could be ripped apart when you experienced just one inconvenience. It pained you to even admit it but you two had come so close to losing one another due to general stubbornness. It scared you, losing them. They were your better half, the person who had your heart and would own it for the rest of eternity. And you were theirs. You could not afford to lose one another, because once you did, there would be a gaping void in your soul, unable to be filled by even the most priceless of treasures.

Because they were your most priceless treasure, as you were theirs.  

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes Your ocean eyes

‘Y’know … all these people are staring at us and we both know we can’t dance.’

You scoffed at their words, but they were true. Weeks of dance practice had gone by, yet it was as if you forgot all you had been taught. In your defence it wasn’t your fault, you were just reeling at the feeling of your lover’s touch on your skin. The feather light touch of their fingers gently held your waist in place whilst their arm was snaked around you. The other hand stroked your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were a porcelain doll that could break at the slightest touch. Their touch made every rational thought within you bubble away and all you could possibly focus on was them.

Only them.

Nothing else was needed. Even in the crowded ballroom, it was just you and them against the world. Whisking you through the room, they twirled you away from them, yet you were still so close. All that time, their eyes on yours. Nothing else mattered. It was just the two of you, and that’s the way it was meant to be. 

No fair You really know how to make me cry When you gimme those ocean eyes

This was supposed to be a happy day. A happy day, without any feelings of sadness. But if it was so happy, why were you crying, your lover thought. Did they do something wrong? Did they accidentally step on your feet whilst dancing? Damn it, they knew they should’ve gotten the shoes that didn’t have a sturdy heel. Another tear slipped from your eye and they wiped it away with their sleeve, looking into your eyes and voicing the concerns they had, without words.

‘I’m fine, I just,’

An unsteady gasp crossed your lips as your chest shook. You were unable to keep your tears from falling. You felt yourself stop moving and warm hands placed themselves on your cheeks, their nose rubbing yours. You felt them wipe your tears away as they held you close. More sobs wracked your body and you shuddered in their touch. They were so warm, so why on earth did you feel so cold? Their eyes, those eyes, looked down at you in worry and you felt so selfish. They thought they had done something wrong when it was the complete opposite.

They could do no wrong. They were your angel, sent down from the heavens. Well, a faulty angel, but an angel, nonetheless.  

‘I never thought I would have this moment. And feel so loved.’ you stated, looking up at them. And it was true. You never thought you were capable of being loved in the way you were now. The insecurities piled up over several years and though you tried to convince yourself you weren’t what others deemed you, you couldn’t help it.

Unlovable, ugly, not suitable.

They had taken their toll on you and you believed everything they said about you were true, until you met the person who convinced you that you were not. The person who currently held your hand with their larger one, kissing your knuckles lightly, their eyes not leaving yours. Their eyes brimmed with tears, as they knew what you were talking about in great detail. They knew every insecurity; every worry, and they’d be damned before they ever let you think about yourself in such a degrading way again.  

Grabbing your sides gently, they whisked you away again. The two of you danced for what felt like an eternity, until you stopped. They pulled you closer to them and tried to show all their love for you through their eyes. And you’d be a liar if you said they didn’t succeed.  

I'm scared I've never fallen from quite this high Falling into your ocean eyes Those ocean eyes

Everything would be alright. The rest of the night was spent in a blur, dancing to the gentle beat of the music, and most of it you spent staring into their eyes. They soothed you, made you calm down and made you feel so loved. Who needed ‘I love you’s’ in words when the same message could be conveyed through eyes? Eyes were the windows to the soul, and you saw your lover’s soul glistening through their eyes, and it was blinding; intoxicating. Those eyes told you that, yes, hard times would come and go, but good times would outnumber them. They comforted you and made you forget your insecurities and doubts. They made you feel whole; complete in unimaginable ways. A cluster of a thousand stars wouldn’t be able to generate the light and warmth that coursed through your body when you looked at their eyes.

Their ocean eyes.  

I've been walking through A world gone blind Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind

Good times don’t last. Surely everyone knew that? Life is unpredictable and so unfair. There were a multitude of awful people the world who could’ve been taken away. People who were a disgrace to humanity. People who did not deserve to walk the earth.

So why them?

Why the one person who had so much love to give and asked for nothing in return? Why the one person who made you feel loved and whole? Why them? Why?

The day your lover died in a car crash, your world died with it. There was no reason to live anymore. You always selfishly hoped that you would be the one to die first. That way you would not have to feel the pain of your soulmate dying.

And what a pain it was.

You had heard childbirth was the worst pain on earth. Every mother you met confirmed this. But this? Losing your loved one; your other half to such a cruel fate, was it really less of a pain than pushing a kid out?

It wasn’t, you concluded.  

Because that pain would ease and slowly become nothing. Not having the person you were dependant on, to love you anymore, to help you out of the dark void, it was a pain that tore at your soul, ripping it apart into hundreds of fragments, unable to be repaired.  

Careful creature Made friends with time He left her lonely with a diamond mind And those ocean eyes

‘You know I’ll never leave you sweetheart.’ They once said, after you voiced your concerns. Your initial fears, that you were unlovable, had risen again and you had been harbouring those feelings for so long. At one point you were scared that they would see you for the broken person you were and realise they were wrong in loving you.

‘Promise?’ You sniffled, extending your pinky finger towards them. They laughed, what a beautiful laugh and nodded, wrapping their finger around yours and what they said next made you laugh at their fandom references, which were in abundance.  

‘Pinky promise meleth nin.’  

--

They lied, you sobbed. They lied. They promised they wouldn’t leave you but here you were, gaping hole in your heart. Nothing would ever soothe the pain you felt, for only they could, but they left. They broke their promise. Why was life so cruel? It was a curse to be left on this cold earth, so empty of love after their departure. Your soul broke in two every day and you tried, oh you tried to soothe yourself by thinking of the one thing that soothed you all those years before.

Their ocean eyes.

END

Note: meleth nin means ‘my love’ in elvish (hobbit reference)