Chapter Text
" You okay? Let's get out of here first. "
Caroline spared a quick glance at the vampire sprawled on the ground, then latched onto the human's arm and darted off in a blur.
Being a young vampire with a strict blood bag diet, carting a human through unfamiliar streets wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Lucky for her, the trembling human instinctively pointed the way, and they slipped into a bar before someone noticed.
It was the lull between lunch and dinner, so the place was mostly empty, with dim corners where the lights were off. Caroline steered the human into a booth, then grabbed a glass from the bar, filled it with water, and pushed it across the table—small, deliberate gestures to steady her.
After chugging half the glass and letting out a long exhale, the human finally seemed to unfreeze. Her eyes shifted from wide, raw fear to a mix of anger, leftover panic, and—when she met Caroline’s gaze—genuine gratitude.
" Thank you for saving me! That was way too close—I thought that vampire was gonna take you down hard! "
" Oh, she did land a hit, " Caroline said, lifting her wrist to flash the bracelet there. " But since you clearly know about the supernatural world let’s just say I’ve got a very protective witch friend watching my back. " She then added, " Did you reach your friends? I’ll stick around till they get here—just to be safe. "
"Yeah, I texted them—we’re meeting here. Thanks again for being so thoughtful."
" No problem. " Caroline shrugged, checking if there was any notice from her phone, while asking, " So—why’s she after you? Doesn’t seem like a typical feeding frenzy. "
" Ha. Some hybrid’s psycho ex, " the girl said, bitterness edging her tone as her jaw tightened, " Thinks I’m ‘stealing his attention’—as if he’s some trophy to hoard. And of course, I’m the easy target, being human. "
"Oh, you mean Klaus." Caroline's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of surprise sparking in her eyes—even the loose strands of her blonde hair bobbed with the motion.
The human’s brows also lifted, " You know him? " Her voice softened, but there was a quiet intensity to it, the kind that came from someone used to digging for layers. " Sounds like you know him pretty well. "
Wow, aren’t you a sharp observer? Caroline thought to herself.
She'd only swung by the Mikaelsons' place to pick up something quick— in and out, no fuss. Klaus wasn't on her schedule, and she really didn't need this to get messy.
But she pulled out her phone and flicked through messages—Rebekah still hadn’t replied—and caught Camille’s gaze lingering, the way it does when someone’s about to ask a question they know they shouldn’t.
A tiny sigh escaped, and she rolled her eyes at no one in particular.
Great. Just great.
She toyed with the edge of her sleeve, dodging the question with a half-smile, " It’s… complicated. But c’mon—you know how the Mikaelsons are. Their reputation precedes them in the supernatural world. And honestly, you’re the interesting one here—a human navigating this chaos and catching Klaus’s attention? That’s way more notable. "
The human tilted her head slightly, as if weighing the deflection, then offered a faint, knowing smile. " I’m Camille, by the way. I majored in psychology and I’m still at it, so I guess I’m wired to notice things. Hope it doesn’t creep you out. "
" Caroline, and hardly creepy. ”, she said, with a quick and bright laugh, "In the supernatural world? Noticing stuff’s basically survival 101. Like, Vampire 101, Witch 101… even Human 101, obviously. And you studying Psychology actually explains a lot. Klaus would make perfect case study material. A thousand-year-old walking hybrid, evil, terrifying and complicated enough to fuel a whole library of psych papers.”
She then propped her chin on one hand, feigning a scholarly squint. "Bet you could write a thesis just on his mood swings."
Camille noticed something then: when Caroline talking about Klaus, there was no flinch, no edge of loathing—nothing like the wide-eyed terror or tight-lipped bitterness she’d seen in so many others. Instead, there was a casual ease, a familiarity she was clearly trying to downplay.
It piqued Camille’s curiosity. As someone taught and trained to parse human behavior, she wanted to dig deeper—maybe, she could piece together another side of Klaus, using her own experiences as a gentle prompt.
Caroline was a fantastic conversationalist—never let a chat fizzle out, sunny and upbeat, with a knack for empathy that made her endlessly supportive. Over the years, she’d gotten better at holding back some thoughts until she was sure they landed right to avoid being called judgmental.
Camille meant to talk about her own stuff with Klaus to get Caroline going, see how they interacted. But somehow, the roles had flipped. She was the one kept talking while Caroline hung on every word—gaze softening with concern, brows furrowing deeper, and the anger at Klaus simmering more and more obviously beneath the surface.
“So he mentally tortured you, used you, and kept putting you—a human—in danger? ” Caroline’s voice sharpened, “That’s messed up.”
“Camille, you’re a hell of a survivor.” Caroline’s tone again softened, and Camille felt her hand wrap around hers, “It’s amazing, really, how you’re still in one piece, body and mind.”
“My friends used to say I should keep half my thoughts to myself,” she admitted, “but c’mon, I just saved your life and now I feel responsible. Gotta say—instead of developing a thing for him, wanting to tear his heart out sounds a lot saner. No one deserves that.”
The conversation hadn’t veered where Camille expected, yet she found herself touched—here in a city crawling with supernaturals, it had been far too long since someone cared about her well-being, pure, simple, and without any hidden motives.
“I’ve never met a vampire this… human,” Camille said quietly. “New Orleans is full of tricks and fights. The vamps here only care about surviving the Originals’ grip or plotting revenge against each other.”
“If this isn’t your hometown,” Caroline tilted her head, earnest. “leaving might be the smarter move.”
She knew, didn’t she? Knew what the sensible choice was.
“Sorry, you are?”
A vampire materialized in the doorway, clearly having heard the last line. He narrowed his eyes at their linked hands, then let his gaze slide over Caroline—quick, assessing—before grinning, an edge of sharpness beneath the charm.
“Whoever you are, thanks for saving my friend Cami.” His tone stayed light, but the authority was clear. “Once we identified who you are and what you’re doing here, you’re free to go.”
“Seriously?” Caroline scoffed.
“This is a supernatural city—and my territory.” He moved in with a sudden blur, too fast for human eyes, “Klaus and I need to know every supernatural’s business.”
“Ugh… my flight’s tonight. I have zero interest in getting tangled up in whatever’s going on here.” She shot him a look. “And about Klaus? Do me a favor and tell him I don’t want to see him. I can’t stand him right now.”
Her phone buzzed suddenly—then kept buzzing, a flurry of texts flooding the screen.
Ignoring the vampire’s lingering scrutiny, Caroline unlocked it quickly.
- Sorry girl, rough day. Lost my phone.
- Long story short: died, bodychanged, witch stuff. You get it :)
- Sent a brother to pick you up.
- Don’t complain about which one. Slim pickings.
- Kol’s on his way too. Meet at the mansion?
- And if you drop that cure, you’re dead!
Classic Rebekah. Now she is feeling more irritated.
She looked up at the vampire with a sharp smile tugging at her lips,
“On second thought,” she said, “how about you tell Klaus Caroline’s right here.”
Marcel’s face clearly read reckless. There was even a flicker of something like sympathy as he shook his head.
“We’ve had a long day,” he said, tone edging toward warning. “Whatever history you two got? Trust me—you don’t wanna poke that hybrid right now.”
“Actually, that pretty much sums up my damn job back in high school.”
Hardly felt threatened, she tossed her head toward Camille, focusing back on the girls’ talk, “You sure all the compulsion’s gone?”
“Ah Yes, I’m on vervain now.” Camille sounded surprised—even in this situation, the girl was still checking in on her.
“Vervain stops new compulsion, but old ones might still linger.”
“And the damage never goes away. It just… sits there.“
Caroline’s voice dropped, her hand drifting to her neck as if brushing a phantom scar, one that still felt like it was smoldering.
A high-pitched, tinny hum had been buzzing in her ears for a while.
How could Camille’s story not yank her back a decade?
Similar age and same helplessness under a vampire’s compulsion—memories that still jolted her awake in a cold sweat at 3 a.m. flashed behind her eyes:
The vampire's fangs piercing her neck as she thrashed, the sickening intimacy of being drained and violated in the same breath, and the cruel compulsion that erased each horror only to let it resurface like a festering wound never healing.
Her body remembered even when her mind couldn't—the puncture marks hidden beneath high-necked tops and scarves, the bruises on her inner thighs, and the constant, bone-deep exhaustion that masked the truth she'd been forced to forget.
She hadn’t felt this raw in years. The air felt thin, as if she might actually suffocate.
It was a ridiculous thought for a vampire, yet there she was.
“You OK?” Camille’s voice was soft, soothing. “Klaus won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“Not if she plays nice. And smart.” Marcel added.
Yeah, right, Klaus, no doubt already grinning his way over here to “greet” her.
Once said he intended to be her last. The first time she set foot in New Orleans, he was nowhere to be found. And now, on her second visit, she'd just run into his unhinged ex and human girlfriend. Seriously, who can explain the odds of that?
If she felt a twinge of… something—uncomfortable, maybe?—it was barely a blip next to the chaos.Not that it mattered. This whole mess just gave her one more reason to blame him.
She could always blame Klaus.
That’s her privilege as Klaus’s bait. Not something to brag about, but she knew she can.
The footsteps were light and quick. Caroline noticed that it wasn't just the two people in front of her who seemed a little different; the few others in the bar had tensed up noticeably, their movements stilted as if bracing for something.
"You could've just called me, love. I’m more than happy to help." The voice she'd recognize it anywhere. Even without turning, she could picture the smirk on his face, attractive but irritating.
So without turning around, Caroline called out, anger unmasked, "Took you long enough."
In the next breath, she spun around and lunged, her hand clamping around Klaus's neck as she slammed him against the wall. A clatter erupted as stacked chairs and tables toppled in their wake.
Anger does have a way of granting strength.
She stared him down, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. If looks could kill, Klaus would've been torn to shreds.
"Last time I checked, you do have a heart. What happened to it?"
Unable to pierce an Original's chest with mere young vampire strength, her other hand pressed against his sternum, as if she could reach in and check if the heart she saw back when Silas's illusion happened was still there.
Klaus's eyes widened in a fleeting moment of surprise, yet he reclined ever so slightly, deliberately offering her a chance to deliver her threat with full force.
Then with hands raised in the air, he said innocently, "I do not remember ripping a heart out or chopping someone's head off lately. Did I really manage to piss you off this much, Caroline?"
Killing is one thing. But sometimes, mental torture is far more cruel—enough to make life feel not worth living.
The second Caroline had laid eyes on Klaus, her chest had tightened, and the buzzing in her ears had grown way louder. Her bright blue eyes also turned from rage to a deep, aching sorrow in a blink.
"Did you compel that poor girl to be obsessed with you? To sleep with you?"
Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper, some words almost lost in the breath that carried them. She let go of his neck, turned to gesture toward Camille and Marcel, then looked back at Klaus, her eyes then brimming with unshed tears.
Klaus's gaze locked onto hers. One hand reached for her arm giving a tentative comfort, the other hovering near her face as if he might cup her cheek and brush away the tears with his thumb. But he held back from the intimacy, sensing the terror beneath her anger—tensed like a spooked cat.
Staring deep into her eyes, he said slowly, each word deliberate,
"You really think that low of me?"
Somehow, Klaus always knew the right thing to say in front of her. Already, she felt the inside terror and insecure start to calm, if only a little.
Now he let his hand cup her cheek, because Caroline was blinking rapidly—clearly about to snap "seriously?"—making teardrops tumbling down her cheeks.
Caroline's hand clung to his forearm. She sniffled, turned her head slightly, and mumbled, "No."
It took over years to make the answer from yes to no. And thinking of those efforts helped chase away the deepest fears in Caroline’s mind.
Klaus's lips curled into a teasing smile, "I'll admit, I've done my fair share of terrible things. But if you think I need compulsion to be charming? That wounds me deeply, Caroline."
"Yeah, I just... I can't stand the thought of you being that kind of person." Caroline's voice was soft, almost to herself.
"What is it?" Klaus tilted her chin up slightly, bringing their eyes back to meet. Something had hurt her—badly—to make her look so heartbroken and desperate.
He needed to know what it was.
He needed to fix it.
Recovering from the emotional upheaval, Caroline suddenly became aware of how close they were, how intimate the moment felt. They really needed to stop this—this thing where they’d somehow drift into intimacy without even noticing. It was clouding her judgment of him and it’s so annoying.
She pulled away quickly, shot him a glare, and slipped back into her usual tone.
“Hey, don’t make it about me.”
"It's always about you, love. You should know that by n—"
"Ugh-ugh." Caroline held up a finger, pressing it against his lips to cut off the flirtation. Eyes narrowing, she said, "Not after I just saved your girlfriend from your crazy still-in-love-with-you ex."
Klaus raised an eyebrow. Caroline wagged her finger.
"And no, it's still horrible—you compelling her to run around in danger, acting as your spy, your shrink, your emotional punching bag, and forcing her to forget it all constantly, just to be safe."
Klaus curled his lips. Caroline wagged her finger again, with brows furrowed and mouth pouted. Yeah, throwing a tantrum at him was part of her plan.
"And no, my plan is just to get a spell and the ingredients to cast it. Simple as that. Don't argue with me about the crap you've done. I don't want to hear it, and I won't change my mind."
A while of silence, Klaus blinked resignedly and sighed,
“At least let me lead you to the Mikaelson mansion?”
Caroline nodded.
She flashed back to the booth to grab her phone and stuff. Turning to Camille, she said with sincerity，
“I have to leave tonight, but... I hope you'll think about what I said.”
Then she shot Marcel a strange look, but managed a polite "Hope you know I'm not a threat. Bye."
Klaus didn't move, simply telling Marcel to see Camille home safely before following Caroline, who had already vanished to the door.
The bar fell into a subtle and heavy silence.
The ‘innocent’ bystanders present let out quiet sighs of relief—grateful to be alive, to have avoided becoming collateral damage while the one and only original hybrid was just being threatened.
Whether out of self-preservation or sheer bewilderment, the conversation they'd just witnessed felt fuzzy, as if they couldn't quite recall the exact words.
Just too absurd.
Only Camille prodded Marcel, saying, "Since I don't have super hearing, I think you owe me a play-by-play."
Marcel was still processing, he said simply,
"I've never seen anyone flat-out say 'no' to Klaus to his face that many times in a row."
Pausing, he added, "Let me escort you home first, then I'll look into it, okay?"