wholeworldoutthere | The Night After Jurassic Park (March 5th, 2am)

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caroline forbes

The Night After Jurassic Park (March 5th, 2am)

It's not like Caroline not to be there late at night, and at first, Klaus thinks it might be that the lift's refusing to take her up to their floor. It wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes, they also get locked in their room, or out of it. But he lets her be, anyway, and he paints, instead. He's been thinking about his time in Narnia again, since he first drank from Regina, and he needs something to occupy his brain.

The brushes have taken a little used to, but he likes the new style it's created, in his hand. Something he's never done before, but something he still meant to do. And painting calms him down; it's always calmed him down. He's taken the biggest canvas he has, and he's painted something in dark colours, glowing eyes in the night, shapes of almost beings, and yet it's nowhere near as eerie as he'd set out for it to be, and he likes it that way. It's not actually threatening, and it was a pleasant realisation, halfway through, when he could still have taken it in another direction. It's not threatening, it's family.

By the time he's done, he heads towards his communicator to check the time, right when it beeps. A text, from Caroline, asking him to meet her in the holodeck. No, not asking him. Telling him she needs him. It's enough that he's out of their room in a heartbeat, leaving a puzzled wolf there on his own, as he heads towards the holodeck at full speed (such as it now is), the door sliding open for him. There's small smudges of paint on his face and arms - a little dark blue over his right brow and on his left forearm, an ochre near his jaw, some white by his right wrist - but he clearly could care less. Caroline needs him, that's all he knows.

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It is animal and raw, and she only breaks from the bite to kiss him, to yank his head up by his hair and kiss him, her eyes still dark and her fangs still bared, and there's blood there - his blood, and her other hand is gripping the bars coming off the support behind her as the she loses herself in this, the mating, and he is hers. He's hers, and she's claiming him in this, and it's insane and violent and them.

She's not long now, sweat painting her skin, and she's moaning into his mouth - anything but quiet.

Frankly, Klaus could care less about her keeping quiet even if they were in a real world, instead of a computer-generated simulation. The moan she feeds him along with his own blood is far too gorgeous to pass up on, her legs wrapped around him, tight enough that they might have bruised a human. He's not long behind her, not with the build-up to this, their feeds like foreplay, and not with the speed of their mating. It's even more difficult to refrain from biting her when he comes, but he does anyway, nothing but a flash of gold in his eyes to show for it.

He's panting against her skin, and then he's kissing her again, hands now able to leave her hips, fingers twisting through her hair as possessively as he's been holding her since she first kissed him with bloody lips.

Her legs are still around his hips but just to keep her where she is, because thank god, she's got the strength to do it, to hold herself up. She kisses him slowly, deeply, and it's love, there, and there's more of her in that kiss than he's felt before. More than the first time, when they were in the observatory almost a year ago. More than two weeks ago. It's her, it's the fire and brightness and passion, and him - the dark and intensity and patience, and she's almost lost in it.

Over them, the crowd is still cheering loudly, and Klaus could still care less. Their kiss takes his breath away; good thing he doesn't need it. And gradually, without losing in intensity, it calms down, until their foreheads are together and they're breathing against each other's lips, and then Klaus laughs, happily. "You're bloody amazing, love," he tells her, pinprick of pain on his neck telling him just that.

"We are," she says, and she feels almost drugged with it, kissing him again briefly before she actually laughs against his lips as well. "This... God." And she doesn't say anything for a long minute, and she doesn't want to mess this up. To break this... whatever they have, but she knows it's a limited amount of time until either they're interrupted by the simulation itself or by somebody else wanting the holodeck.

I'm not training with Logan anymore, she sort of wants to say, but she doesn't, even though it's been weeks. Even though it's been keeping the secret for weeks. That she'd made a choice, and it was to be who she was.

You deserve this,, she wanted to say, too, but she didn't want to start them on that road again.

Instead, she just stares into his eyes, and eventually says quietly, "I made the right choice." And it's got about forty layers of meaning, but they're all important.

"And what choice would that be?" he asks, fingers relaxed in her hair, joy and love still colouring his voice in a way it rarely genuinely is. He fakes it often, but when he does, it doesn't sound quite like this. This is true carefreeness, instead of a studied front of it.

"You. I chose you." She relaxed, and pressed a kiss to his throat, before she leaned up and licked the blood from his neck with a soft moan, and then pressed another kiss to his jaw. "I'm not training with Logan anymore, because it's you. Because I love you. Because you're mine." And she licked up the side of his neck to skim her lips along his earlobe. Being close to him, and she knows she should put her pants on, but she can't right now. She can't pull away.

Klaus is not pulling away either, but he's certainly sliding out of her, through no fault of his own. It's all biology. He makes a briefly annoyed face when it happens, but she's there, touching him, kissing him, and it can't be anything but brief.

Except her words make him frown again, and he leans back, but doesn't pull back, just enough to catch her gaze. "Did you think I wanted you to?"

She looks up at him, and she looks confused for only a split second, before she shakes her head. "He told me to leave you." She shook her head. "I'm not leaving you. I chose you, and I made the right choice." She hoped he understood - and when he slipped from her, she also made a face, but she was still kissing his jaw, and let one of her legs slip down so that her toes were resting on the top of his shoe.

"You made the choice you wanted to," Klaus says, because he doesn't believe in right and wrong, not the way he thinks she means that. Making the choice one wanted to was the only right choice, to him. He smiles, softly, and kisses her again, drawing it out.

As long as she stopped training with Logan for her own reasons, and not for him, he has no problem with it.

Although he wishes he could tear out the mutant's throat for sticking his nose (and claws) where it doesn't belong.

"Do you want me to pick up the slack?" he asks when he breaks the kiss.

Her brows rose. "You'd be interested?" She wasn't expecting him to offer, and her fingers toyed with his hair, and she sighed softly. "I..." She leaned up and kissed him, and it wasn't an answer, it was a kiss, a long one, her arms twining around his neck as she leaned up, even though her other leg slipped so that she was standing with no pants on, her toes on his shoes. She doesn't speak, but just kisses him, pulling him closer. Not as a thank you, but something else - and even she didn't know what.

Klaus is surprised by her response. Much as he does not object to getting that response, it's simply not something he expected. Still, he welcomes it, arms now sliding around her waist, holding her close and warm, rather than tight and possessive, as earlier, and he meets her kiss in kind.

"What was that for?" he asks, hint of a smile in his voice, on his lips, when she breaks the kiss, and he's perfectly comfortable with her standing on his feet; one of the many benefits of steel-toed boots.

"Because of who you are," she says simply, and she shakes her head because she doesn't have an answer besides that. "It's cold," she says then, and she looks down for her pants.

And she sees the bodies, and she just sort of... stops, stops talking, stops moving, and actually stops breathing as she stares down at them.

Klaus frowns the moment the change comes over her, and a quick glance tells him what it is she's looking at. "Love?" he calls out, simple and warm, and there, even if he can almost taste the sudden fear at the back of his mouth, metallic tang mixing with the copper of the blood.

She snaps back into reality, and blinks at him, her brows furrowing. "I just- It's cold, I need my jeans." And she doesn't talk about them, even though she can't stop her gaze from finding them, the football player and the cheerleader, their sightless eyes staring up at nothing. She'd been avoiding walking on the ground, but now she just moves, and her hands shake as she reaches for her pants, her underwear, pulling them on even as she stares down at the bodies.

Part of her wants to throw up. Part of her wants to find more, to drink more blood, and there's a small part of her brain that's panicking. It's because of Bonnie and Stefan and Damon, and she's panicking, but it's just a tiny part of her brain, the part she's ignoring.

They're not real. And even if they were, they're both like this. They're both vampires, they're predators, they're freakshows. Both of them. But still, her hands shake, and she can't bring herself to look away, even as she gets dressed.

Klaus lets her go and get dressed, hitching up his pants, tucking himself back in and zipping up as he watches her. The way she's staring, and trembling. He makes no move to reach out, but he is there.

"Have I ever told you," he asks, quietly, although he knows he hasn't, "about the night Esther turned us?" Esther's a compromise. He'd been about to call her the Original Witch, but he refuses to call her his mother right now, in that particular sentence.

She shakes her head, her voice low and she's still staring and them, and she needs to stop and look away and tell the computer to take them away, but she can't. "No," she says softly, and she bends to pick up one of her boots that rests by the dead girl's hand, a pool of congealed blood covering her uniform, and her hands still shake even though she tells them not too. Even though she tries to will her muscles to not move.

She puts her boot on, then the other, and she's holding herself in check while she waits for him to speak. To tell her, and she still knows she could make them vanish. She could make them come back to life, but she can't forget what Bonnie told her. How her mother would react. How much she liked it, how natural it felt. That Stefan only drank animal blood for a reason. It was a giant, giant mess of feeling, but she was trying to control it... except she couldn't drag her eyes away.

"They didn't tell about the second part of the ritual," he explains, keeping his voice quiet. He doesn't want to draw her attention to him; if she needs to stare at the bodies, he wants to let her. "The part all vampires have to go through. Drinking human blood."

He wonders what it was like, for her. Whose blood it had been. If that had been the man she killed. All that he knows is that Katherine did it.

"Mikael brought in a girl from the village. I was with Rebekkah. We didn't want to."

Edited 2013-03-17 05:52 (UTC)

She's never actually told him about how it happened. About what actually happened so that she was a vampire. "I was in a car accident," she says quietly, and it's while she's still looking at them, barely blinking. "Tyler was driving. I... Damon gave me his blood, or else I would have died. Katherine gave me a message for Stefan and Damon, and then smothered me with a pillow."

"There was a blood bag. Somebody else's," she said, her voice still soft. "I didn't know what was happening." She paused, and then she took a step back, away from the bodies, closer to him - even though she still didn't look away, her brain more than happy to fill in who these two people were and their lives and it was just a meal, to her.

Edited 2013-03-17 06:06 (UTC)

"Mikael pulled Rebekkah off her before she could kill her," Klaus goes on, instead of answering her own story, how it's one tick in Damon's favour, and one tick against Tyler. Because he's doing more than just telling her a story. He's telling her what happened to him. He's telling her the way he used to be. Someone more like her, morally. It's about what she's living now.

"Then he made me drink. That's when the werewolf curse kicked in."

He pauses, watching her from behind, wishing her to find a way to get past this, over this. She wanted it, and he doesn't regret helping her. She wanted it.

But what if he ends up losing her.

"We didn't expect it. The hunger for blood. Mikael and Esther thought that the blood-drinking would remain confined to the ritual."

"It's there," she says softly. "Every minute of every day, except now. Except right now. The hunger." She's got her arms folded because otherwise her hands are still not steady, and she doesn't want him to see. Doesn't want to think about it, even though it's all she can think about. "How many people have you killed, do you think?" She whispers it, and she doesn't even know why she's asking.

"Thousands," Klaus answers, honestly. He doesn't have a doubt about that. Once he accepted his nature...

Or more accurately, after killing your own mother, you can't afford not to accept killing as something you do. Something that doesn't matter as much. He'd paid for that particular delusion after killing the Five.

"I- I don't know what-"

And that's when her voice cracks, and she's still looking at them, at the bodies, even as she resteadies her voice, even as she tries to say something that's not this. "We should get back, before somebody else takes the room."

"Caroline," Klaus calls out to her, at last, because now that she's asked, and he's answered, now's when she needs to look at him. Because she needs to say what she'd been about to say, or what she hadn't. She needs to face this, now, and it's better if the hunger isn't distracting her.

She looks up at him when he says her name, and everything about her looks like an animal in flight, a deer in the headlights. Like she's only just realised where she is and what's happening. "I don't know what I expected," she said, and there it is again, any time she's not holding onto something, her hands go. "We're monsters. We kill. We hunt and eat and kill-" And her voice is getting strained, even as she grips her upper arm so tightly that there'll be bruises.

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