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Hindsight hits her about two seconds too late.
After what went down at Tyler's house, everyone should be locked in battle mode by default. Survival instincts, feline moves, extreme caution, making the most of those super vampire senses bestowed upon them by traumatic death. All things Caroline excels at. She's always ready, never caught off-guard. It's second nature to her. Except for tonight.
One tiny little slip that might be enough to end her for good. You cannot afford to be stupid in Mystic Falls. Stupid, in this hellmouth of a city, usually means dead. For real.
She blames Tyler.
The fact he snapped her neck - still not over that, by the way - and dragged her out of his house by force while her friends were left behind to fend for themselves in the middle of an Original family reunion wasn't even the worst of it. It would be enough to give him an earful, no doubt. But then he had to make everything ten times worse by acting like a total alien, dropping some awful truth bombs about how he'd basically rather be Klaus' lackey than her boyfriend and expecting her to just deal with it. How the hell was she supposed to change into her PJs and go to sleep when he was out there swearing allegiance to Voldemort? Obviously, he doesn't know what he's doing, because if he did, he would realize how seriously at risk his life is. How at risk her life is. Hell, the whole freaking town is at risk with Tyler fighting for the bad guys.
No. It's just not acceptable. As his girlfriend, Caroline had to do something, even if, objectively, she neither had a plan, nor a clear idea of what to do. In her mind, she was just going to shout some meaningful, passionate things at him and hope it resonated.
Against all better judgement and most definitely not making use of her supernatural sixth sense, Caroline got out of her cocktail dress and into a pair of jeans and vamped over back to Tyler's place with steely determination and very little care in her speedy steps. All she could focus on was the whirlwind inside her head. Tyler basically volunteering to be Klaus' errand boy when they know he's sired is unlikely to garner any sympathy over with their friends. Damon, for one, won't even blink before snuffing him out if Tyler ever comes between them and their ultimate goal to rid the world of Klaus Mikaelson. She is the only person who's going to be on his side when push comes to shove, so Tyler needs to snap out of it. For both their sakes. If he cares about her at all, if he sees the two of them having any semblance of a future together. And that's the other thing. Caroline is starting to think that one of them is way more into this relationship than the other.
With the thunderstorm raging through her thoughts, she didn't stop to consider how dumb it truly was to go back to the showdown scene so soon until her breath caught with a definitely too-loud gasp and a branch snapped under her foot and her heart did a freaking somersault in her chest.
She didn't see him until he was right there.
Like a figure out of an 80s horror movie, he is standing by his lonesome self in Tyler's backyard, in front of what she presumes is the pile of ashes that was once Mikael. There goes their hope of seeing him gone. The only thing Klaus ever truly feared. If that was the best they had, they're royally screwed.
The idea that this is a silly concern for her to have when she might not even live to see the next day almost dredges a hysterical laughter out of her, but she manages to shove it back down just in time. Like the complete asshole that he is, Klaus didn't just pack up some leftovers, take his stupid hybrids and crawl back to whatever hole in hell he comes out from to terrorize their lives. The whole party's left. For all she knows, Carol Lockwood could be getting ready for bed right now, while Tyler cleans up plastic cups and suspicious spots from his hardwood floors. And like some familiar guest instead of the parasite that he is, there Klaus is, overstaying his unwelcome.
And Caroline just unwittingly - stupidly - walked right into his trap.
She stops frozen in her step, unblinking, not a breath escaping her lips, hoping to God that she's still far enough that he can't hear the runaway train pounding against her sternum. Maybe if she stays very still, he won't notice her there. How long is he going to stand there, anyway? He’ll probably leave any minute now and she can just -
"Not very subtle, are you?" his voice slices through the eerie quietness in the backyard. She feels it in her bones.
Fear spikes like a thorn through her heart. Her mind is racing as she runs clumsily through her options. Not that there are many, and the panic surging past her attempts at rationalization doesn't help either. She closes her hands tightly, nails biting into her palms as she tries to ground herself enough to see a way out.
Breathe, Caroline. Breathe.
She flinches when Klaus moves, biting her tongue when she realizes he's just taking a swig from a bottle in his hand. Everything about his posture is absolutely relaxed. That's the shoulder drop of a man whose only real cause for concern is now a carbonized, indistinguishable mess at his feet. She wonders if he would even bother if she blurred out of -
"Don't run," he says calmly, sounding almost bored, but with a clear warning. "I'm in the mood for a chase. Little spoiler: you can't outrun me." His eyebrows twitch up when he finally turns around to face her, lips curling into an amused grin. "Tyler's girl," he states, gesturing towards the now empty yard. "You missed out on the celebrations, I’m afraid."
Caroline stays quiet, jaw clenched so tightly her head is throbbing.
"I thought you'd all be smart enough to have scurried away by now, found a spelled bunker somewhere to hide. After what your little friends tried to pull tonight, you've got some nerve coming back." He cocks his head to the side, staring at her like he actually expects her to say something in her defense. Caroline doesn't even blink. Klaus scoffs. "I'm doing all the conversation here, love. Aren't you lot full of opinions and whatnot? What happened now? Cat got your tongue? Or was it a wolf?"
"What do you want?" She blurts out, sticking out her chin and trying her best to school her face into stern nonchalance. There's no doubt here about who holds all the power, but hell will freeze over before she gives this jackass the satisfaction.
Her feeble attempt at bravado causes his grin to widen, dimples cutting into his face as he takes slow, measured steps closer. His gait seems slightly unsteady, like perhaps he's had a bit too much to drink. Or like he wants her to think that he did, tempt her into trying to run. Everything she knows about Klaus leads her to think he’s all about the mind games. And calling his bluff doesn’t usually end well.
"Getting personal already. I do so enjoy a girl who cuts to the chase," he muses, affecting condescension and amusement at the same time. A flare of anger burns through the fear curled in her stomach. "What do I want?" He drawls, his gaze narrowing onto her in a way that sends a chill rushing up her spine. Caroline shifts, swallowing down hard. The little twitch in Klaus' lips says her discomfort didn't go unnoticed. "That’s a rather big question. Let’s see… For starters, I would like better booze." He waves the bottle in the air, clicking his tongue in distaste before taking another long drag, grimacing as he swallows. "Tyler comes from money, doesn’t he? I mean, this mansion..." He casts an appreciative glance towards the house behind him. "A bit outdated, not to my personal taste, but lavish, to be certain. And yet they can't even stock their cabinets with decent bourbon. That's just outrageous. What's the purpose of all that wealth if you're not going to spend it wisely?" Klaus shakes his head like he is deeply disappointed, but drinks again. “Cheap.”
His heartfelt rant on the quality of the alcohol he stole from Tyler's home gets Caroline momentarily frowning. It's... Well, unexpected, to say the least. Snobbish, for sure, and a total dick move, which seems on brand, but not... Evil overlord-like. As though reading her thoughts, though, he ploughs on, reminding her of exactly what kind of creature he is.
"I want to grab my doppelganger, fold her into a suitcase, preferably slap a gag on that big mouth of hers, and skip this cursed town forever to build myself an army of superior beings. I want -" he pauses, his eyes flashing with a different kind of emotion. When he starts again, his words come out coated in vitriolic anger. "I want to watch Mikael burn a thousand times over. I want his death to last a hundred years - a decade for each century he spent hunting me to the ends of this earth. That meagre bonfire was not enough. Anti-climactic, almost. A second he was there, all disdain and bravado, the next... Just a pile of ashes. Barely even screamed."
As he speaks, Klaus' eyes become glazed over and distant, as though he's been transported somewhere else. Caroline isn't even sure if he is still talking to her. But the hatred is palpable. It stains the air around him, simmering underneath his words. It's real emotion. Human emotion. An echo of something that had probably been lost for a very long time, and that Mikael's appearance brought back to the surface, revealing a facet of vulnerability that does not go with anything she's heard or seen of this man thus far.
But then he blinks her back into focus, and that harsh mask of indifference snaps seamlessly back into place. "But I guess I'll settle for the army. For now."
"Don't you have enough of them already?" She asks brazenly.
"It's hardly an army, is it?"
"How many slaves do you need? Twenty? Fifty? A thousand? How many before you let Tyler go?"
Klaus chuckles, shaking his head. "That's what you're worried about? Whether or not I'll let Tyler go? Is that what you want? Is that why you came here tonight, to beg for his freedom?"
"No," she admits. "But it doesn't hurt to ask."
"Fair enough," he nods, being way more civilized than she's frankly ready to deal with. Turns out a reasonable-sounding Klaus unnerves her more than the lunatic snapping necks and playing sick games she met on the senior prank night. "Here's another question for you: how about the others? Don't you feel for them? Or do you not care what happens to the rest of those poor, oppressed creatures, so long as your boyfriend is safely returned to you?" He frowns, putting a hand across his chest. "That's a bit heartless, love. Not to mention selfish. Far be it from me to judge, I quite appreciate the feeling, truth be told, but by the brazen self-righteousness of your entire posturing, I'd think you were all angels around here, filled with light and kindness."
"Some of us are just trying to survive," she bites out.
"Survival," he speaks with that cheeky little condescending smile again. It makes her want to throw something at him. "Such a beautiful thing. A human's first instinct. Some would say it’s commendable. So long as it's you and yours who are left standing, of course. Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but you and me... It seems we're not that different, after all."
"I'm nothing like you," Caroline snaps at him, not quite able to contain her flaring temper.
"Well, I don't know." His lips kick into a lopsided smirk. The intensity of his gaze washes right over her, setting off a quake at the pit of her stomach. There's something deep and ancient in his eyes that is unlike anything Caroline's ever seen. She can't really describe it, can't even put her finger on it; it's just different. It unsettles her down to the marrow of her bones to be the sole focus of this millennium-old man's attention. To be noticed by him, singled-out. Found out. It's... Hypnotizing, almost. Luring her in at the same time it terrifies her. Caroline's never been shy a single day in her life, but she suddenly wants to shrink into herself and disappear. "We might have more in common than you think."
"Yeah?" She challenges, disguising the way her heart just skipped a beat. "Then why don't you let Tyler go?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you've stolen his life," she replies more fiercely than she’d intended, the steadiness of her voice surprising even her. "You've made him a slave. He had a life before you. A family. Friends. A future. People who care about him."
"You're all still here, aren't you? I haven't taken any of that away from him," Klaus counters simply. "Not yet, anyway. The rate we’re going, my good will won’t last much longer."
"You ordered your hybrids to kill everyone here tonight."
"If anything happened to me. And let's drop the act here, love - can you honestly blame me? You and your friends made a partnership with him." Klaus almost spits out the last word as he points to Mikael's corpse. "You tried to have me killed. You brought the Destroyer to Mystic Falls. It is only fair that I retaliate. I was merely protecting myself. That's survival, too."
"That was revenge."
"And well-deserved, if you ask me. That is just the way of the world. Blood for blood, an eye for an eye. Sometimes, two eyes for an eye, so that if you live at all, you might learn an invaluable lesson." Caroline scoffs, folding her arms across her chest. The more he talks, the more her paralyzing fear morphs into bitter annoyance. His arrogance makes her want to slap him. If she was a tiny little bit less attached to her life, she would. It'd be worth it. "Let me ask you something," he starts again when she remains quietly fuming. "What makes you so certain Tyler even wants to be free?"
She bristles. He doesn't, she thinks, because you have him under compulsion, you freaking maniac. "Because it's everyone's aspiration to become your errand boy?" She retorts instead.
"Do you know what the sire bond is? It's an incredibly rare occurrence. Have any of your friends asked themselves why every single one of my hybrids is sired to me?" He arches his eyebrows in question, but Caroline's lips remain sealed. It's a good question, to be honest, and she hates it that she's curious to know the answer, even if she'll doubt whatever comes out of his mouth on principle alone. "Hm? No? Well. They're sired to me... Because they're grateful."
"Tyler is not grateful to you," she bites back at him, ignoring the fact that's the exact same absurdity, spoken by Tyler himself, which prompted her to come all the way here tonight and got her in this messy encounter. She refuses to believe it. At the very least, Klaus forced that idea into his brain the same way he forces Tyler to do anything else.
"Isn't he?" Klaus challenges as he starts to slowly circle her. His gaze travels up and down her body, assessing, measuring. Caroline straightens her back, trying her best not to let the deep unease shaking her to her core show on her face. "How much did Tyler enjoy being a werewolf? How much pleasure did he take from having every bone and muscle in his body tore apart, bent and broken over and over again, every full moon? Was he proud of changing into a thoughtless beast, chained to a wall, locked up in a cellar, thrashing and roaring and desperate to tear something to pieces?" She feels Klaus' presence hovering too near, his warmth surrounding her, his voice a near whisper close to her ear. Caroline mashes her eyes shut, swallowing hard against her nerves, every hair on her body standing to attention. She stands her ground, though, sinking her heels into the grass and refusing to budge. Klaus breathes out a laugh, and Caroline doesn't have to see his face to know he's relishing the kind of effect he's having. "Hybrids are the top of the food chain, love," he continues, walking around her and finally coming to stand where she can see him. She takes a deliberate step back, just to put as much distance between them as possible. "We are superior. Stronger. Faster. More lethal. And we control our forms. If Tyler never wishes to turn again, he doesn't have to, and he still keeps all the perks. I'd be pretty grateful if I was him."
"If that's the case, then why don't you just let them all go? Undo the sire bond. Let them choose for themselves if they want to serve you. If you really believe what you just said, then you have nothing to worry about. They won't go anywhere. And at least we'll all know it's their choice."
"Now, that would be a tad idiotic of me, wouldn't it? Turn a bunch of young, reckless wolves into the mightiest of creatures and let them roam free, do as they please with their gifts? How long until they become drunk with their own power? Until their ambitions become too great to be controlled and start clashing with my own? They're just not ready yet. Think of me as a mentor. I'm guiding my flock into the new age. Preparing them for things they can't even wrap their tiny little minds around."
Caroline shakes her head, face scrunching up into a scowl. "Do you even hear the things that come out of your mouth? That's all... Twisted."
"Twisted," he parrots, tasting the word on his tongue, letting it linger as he seems to ponder over it. "Twisted implies something that shouldn't exist. Abnormal. Wrong. Hear that, Mikael?" He turns back to his dead father's body. "She agrees with you!" His smile turns sharp and bitter, eyes darkening further. "I'm afraid that's not very complimentary for you, sweetheart. You see, Mikael here is the worst of the worst. I'm not entirely certain that being on his side gives you the moral high ground." At Caroline's snort, Klaus cocks his head. "What's the sneer for?" She averts his piercing stare then, kicking herself for being so damn confrontational, even if he deserves every bit of it. But her silence only seems to annoy him further. "Speak," he demands, a silent threat biting at his deceptive calm.
Caroline considers her next words. "I just think the apple didn't fall very far from the tree."
Klaus' mouth draws into a slow smile that is all teeth. "You think so low of me, love," he derides. "That hurts my feelings."
"Like you have any," she grumbles.
"Oh, I have plenty. A whole lot of rage, for instance. You see, Caroline...” She winces inwards, his accent bending the syllables of her name in a way that, were he anyone else, she might even appreciate. As it is, she’s only shocked he even knows her. “You think me a monster, and I won't dispute the idea. I have built quite a name for myself and it was almost entirely intentional. However." He makes a deliberate pause, and Caroline has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the dramatics. "Everything that I am, all my dark, twisted little corners, were shaped by him. He is the start of everything. The architect of all that I am."
"Bullshit." The word rolls off her tongue before she can stop herself. Klaus blinks at her, just as stunned as she feels at her own boldness. But instead of recoiling, Caroline decides to own it. If he wants to kill her, he'll kill her anyway. It's not like he needs a reason. She’s feeling snide, and the more he talks, the more her filters wear off. "Aren't you like the Big Bad Wolf? Everyone trembles at the sound of your name, etc., etc.? And you're blaming your father for all that? I'd think someone with your unapologetic, super-sized ego would at least want to own up to his own wrong-doings, and yet here you are, wanting someone else to take credit for a thousand years of mass murder? A villain with daddy issues?" She purses her lips at him, scoffing. "Cliché."
A beat goes by, and then another. "Daddy issues, you say. Well... When you grow up with the Destroyer, I'm not sure you're left with many choices other than developing some issues."
"Because you had a bad father, that suddenly justifies all the terrible things you've done? Destroying lives, families, entire cities? You're insane."
"I assure you, sweetheart, I'm far from it. My sanity is rather challenged, indeed. A thousand years of putting up with insolent children will do that to you. But I'm persistent. If that was not the case, your pretty little head would no longer be attached to your neck by now. My super-sized ego doesn't take criticism very well." He takes another step closer to her, staring her dead in the eye. "I am also not trying to justify anything. Justification presumes remorse, which I have none. That's not insanity. It's method. It's embracing the ways of the underworld we all live in. I have been on this earth for far too long to hold on to that naive hopefulness you cling to so dearly. You're a vampire, Caroline. I'm certain you've killed before. Rest assured that you will kill again. The difference between us is that I do not care. I don't hide behind pathetic excuses for righteousness. I just do whatever I want, because I can. You, on the other hand, lie to yourself that you have perfectly good reasons for your acts of violence, like there is such a thing as a good killing and a bad one."
"There is," she grits out.
"And yet you would have all my hybrids killed without even so much as blinking."
"Because they threaten me," she counters. "They threaten everyone in this town."
"By your own logic, they're all victims, are they not? Is there a line that separates worthy victims from unworthy ones? Or are your life and that of your friends more valuable than theirs? Did I not take them from their families and their futures and the people who care about them, or do you assume I found them all lying about in the gutter? See, love, they are, as you so eloquently put it, merely trying to survive. A teensy bit hypocritical of you, don't you think?"
The final thread snaps. Anger bursts inside of Caroline like a volcano, coursing red and hot through her veins. It takes every ounce of self-control in her not to shoot the infinite string of indignities that rises to her tongue at him, and yet she's pretty sure the daggers in her eyes are doing a fine job. There's a twinge of guilt in her chest, a little voice in the back of her skull saying that he has a point. Caroline just ignores it.
Klaus never has a point.
"You marched into town claiming lives like you were entitled to them," she starts, voice shaking at how hard she's trying not to yell. "Jenna, Elena, Stefan, Tyler. Even me. I was your original vampire sacrifice, if freaking Damon hadn't pulled me out in time."
He shrugs. "No offense, love. It wasn't personal."
"Exactly. It's never personal. You just stomp all over people like they're nothing. So what if I've killed before? So what if I'd kill every single one of your hybrids just to spite you? That doesn't make me a monster, it makes me human. I cared for every single life I've taken and I've never killed anyone just because I could. That is the difference between us. I do bad things and I commit atrocities, but I do so for the people I love. I would go to hell and back for them. You, on the other hand, are just terrible."
Klaus chuckles, a smile dimpling his cheek like he finds her indignation endearing. He lifts the bottle in the air on a toast and takes a swig. "Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night."
"You're not the first or the only person in this world to have a mean dad," she continues, slanting a look at Mikael's body. Klaus' smile freezes in place before waning away, all manner of humor melting off his expression. "A father who doesn't love you. Who loathes everything that you are. Who would rather see you dead than accept you and would put you through unthinkable pain and kill you with his own hands. You're not the only one who's angry and broken. But not all of us take it out on the rest of the world."
"Wait until you've spent a millennium on the run, leaving nothing but scorched earth behind you when you flee. Then you can try and lecture me. And you're actually quite wrong on at least one thing. I don't take it out on the world because of him." Klaus comes closer still, gold flecks cracking through the midnight blue of his irises like embers. The temperature rises more than a few degrees. When he speaks, his voice comes out low, but firm and grating. "I do it because I can."
An awful long moment ticks by. Caroline's raging fire dies down, leaving space to fear once more. Suddenly she realizes she'd rather stay angry than afraid. Anxiety vibrates through her as she waits. After what feels like forever, Klaus lets out a long, weary sigh, waving a hand to her in a disdainful dismissal.
"Go on, then," he grumbles, starting to turn away from her. "I'm done entertaining for the evening."
She stays still for a beat too long, blinking in confusion. "You're... You're just gonna let me go?"
He shrugs, facing her once more. "I'm in a festive mood. But keep it between us girls, yes? I have a reputation to uphold. And don't get too comfortable. This is a one-off. We, evil villains, are not in the line of sparing lives."
Caroline takes one hesitating step. Then another. And another. Testing the waters, wondering if he's just playing with her, waiting for her to turn around and breathe in relief before he catches her again. When it seems like he'll really just let her go, she picks up her pace, going back the way she came, her urgent conversation with Tyler completely forgotten.
"Caroline."
She winces, freezing in her spot. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, would it?
She half-turns back to him, ready to bolt for her life.
"Did you kill him?" he asks. "Your father."
She frowns, lips parting wordlessly before the question sinks in. Klaus watches her expectantly, like he genuinely wants to know the answer. It only makes her more confused.
She considers saying, It's none of your business, which is the only answer he deserves. But when she opens her mouth, what she says is, "No."
"Why not?"
She considers it for a moment. The idea of hurting her father never once crossed her mind, not even with blisters covering her entire body, or when her blood started to literally boil inside her veins, when her screams got so loud and so desperate it was as though she had needles scratching her throat. And yet Caroline never asked herself why she couldn't fight back. Why she didn't even try.
"Because he's my dad."
"But he hates you," Klaus argues. "He tried to kill you. Will likely do it again. You can't trust him. As long as he lives, you'll be at risk."
They're not talking about Bill Forbes anymore, but he's not wrong. Caroline did think about that - and cried all night long over it. Having to sleep with an eye open, always looking over her shoulder because of people like Klaus is one thing. Living that way because of her own father is a completely different one. It hurts deeper than any werewolf bite ever could, and the pain never really goes away. Even then, she refuses to entertain the thought that she might one day have to kill her own dad to save herself.
"He's still the same guy who sat on the front row of all my recitals when I was a kid," she says at last, her voice thick with raw emotion.
"You're not his little girl anymore," Klaus insists. "In his eyes, you're just as much of a monster as I am."
Caroline swallows around the lump in her throat. "That's what makes it so terrible, isn't it? Sometimes we can't help but love them, anyway."
They stand there for what feels like an eternity, an impossible kind of understanding passing between them.
Before Caroline can let it sink, however, she swirls around and finally dashes off into the night.