Whew! Bolded words! I've been writing this story on my iPad and fancy tools like bolding and such aren't available. Anyway, here is another chapter. Lemme know if there's a particular scene or idea you would like to read, (that is, if it is not already presently on my mental manuscript), and I will see what I can do. This story is not going to be super long but it just does not feel finished to me yet. So I cannot say how long it will be. But please read and vote and if you want, review. But yeah, people. Feel free to offer up suggestions that you'd enjoy seeing in a fanfic of them. All right! Now for the chapter!

*Disappears mysteriously*

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Apparently, home was just two inches south of my heart.

I gasped, feeling it pierce the skin before the stake disappeared, and Janece with it. I watched, eyes coming in and out of focus, as Klaus slammed the red head into a tree, roaring like some ravaged beast given a bone. He didn't waste any time and plunged the stake deep into her chest.

She took a shuttering breath.

And didn't take another.

I tried to keep my bearings, wishing I could stifle the pain that was becoming overwhelming. I was lying on my cuts, the weight of my body pressing down on them, stones and dirt digging into my back. And it was excruciating.

I turned my attention to Klaus instead, who held Aindreas from the collar of his coat. Klaus forced him to his knees and even from here, I could feel the rage emanating from him like an open fire.

"I hope you realize the kindness I'm doing you," Klaus said, clutching his fingers around a stake. "I'd wished to make this much, much slower."

The coldness in his voice made me shiver.

"You got what you wanted, did you not?" Aindreas asked, his eyes falling to me. "Her switch is on. You can spare me my life as payment."

Klaus cast him a wicked smile, one that didn't reach his eyes."You took something of mine. Someone that I care for deeply. And then you harmed her." His voice turned to a cold whisper. "I'll grant you your payment. And it is a swift death. Unlike the one I'd imagined for you."

That arrogant look in Aindreas's expression disappeared and I was taken aback by the frightened man I saw beneath the facade. He tried vainly to back away. "Wait," he said, "You can't just-"

But Klaus never let him finish.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the sound it made. As it turned out, Aindreas had been right. Everyone had their weakness. Even him. And it had been his own life.

I looked up into the rain that was starting to lighten, trying to blink furiously at the black dots reappearing in my vision. I knew I couldn't keep them at bay for long; my consciousness was slipping away.

"Caroline."

The next instant, Klaus was there, his hand gently lifting my head up. He moved me with incredible ease, which was a stark contrast to what he'd been doing just moments before.

A hiss escaped through my teeth when he moved my back and I caught the spark of pain that rose to his eyes. He seemed to struggle for the right thing to say and so did I. Just something. Anything.

"Hey." My voice was barely above a murmur.

The corner of his lip lifted, but his face was too clouded with concern and anger for it to be considered a smile. I felt his fingers skim my cheek, the touch just a whisper. "Hello, Love. What's say we get you out of this foul weather?" He asked.

I felt my heart skip a beat, something it hadn't done in a very long time.

I nodded, but then more spots burst forth and I thought better of it. "Okay."

He moved with deliberate carefulness, pausing as he appraised my condition. "I'm going to put you on my back, Caroline, to avoid the....discomfort."

I caught his lip curl around that word, followed by a light tremor that coursed through him.

Then again, maybe the shaking was coming from me.

He hooked my arms around his neck and gingerly pulled. At the quiet movement more blackness exploded and I had just enough time to register the chill of his shoulder against my cheek before the darkness came and I fell into oblivion.

_________________________________________________________________________________

KLAUS

He put her in the guest room, trying to avoid looking at her back as he laid her down. But once he caught sight of her bloodied shirt, he couldn't keep himself from analyzing the damage.

Through the torn fabric of her shirt, Klaus had caught the horrendous condition of her injuries and his breath had frozen in his throat.

He couldn't even make them out clearly, each too encrusted in blood to decipher one lash from the other. They'd beaten her back to a pulp.

He swallowed, looking away from her. After what she'd just endured, he wouldn't leave her alone, but he couldn't stand the sight either so instead, he walked to the other side of the room and waited there, his eyes settling on nothing more than her face.

Perhaps she wouldn't want him here when she awoke but Klaus couldn't physically bear that separation, not after watching her nearly die. Not after believing for more than a second that she was already dead.

So he waited, and rather impatiently, trying to keep his mind off the man who had taken her that he ached to kill again. Just the thought made his hands vibrate and he clenched them in his pockets, squandering his mounting rage.

When it threatened to overpower him, he left Caroline once, only to get a glass of bourbon but then he abandoned the glass and brought the bottle up instead. When he returned, her eyes were open.

"Ow," she bit out, cursing.

Forgetting the bourbon, Klaus sped over to her in an instant and sat on the sheets, barely disturbing the bed.

"I would take it slow," he said, extending his hand. But then he didn't know where to put it and retracted it back to his side.

"Klaus?" She asked.

"The one and only."

"My back...." She said, craning her neck around in an attempt to see. But Klaus shook his head at her. "It's a rather gruesome sight, Love. You haven't quite healed yet."

He sped away for a moment, returning with a basin of warm water and cloth. He set it on the nightstand closest to her. There was an awkward pause as he he,d out the cloth. "Is it all right if-"

Caroline nodded, pulling her hair away from her, some strands stuck by blood.

Klaus drenched the cloth and rung it out, peeling back a piece of her torn shirt. He pressed the cloth to the wound.

Caroline cursed again.

"Sorry, Love."

"It's fine," she hissed. "It's not like I don't deserve it."

His hand stilled at her words, and he glanced at her face, feeling his anger double yet again. It took effort to keep it out of his voice. "You didn't deserve this, Caroline."

But she only squeezed her eyes shut. "Klaus, I killed people."

"So have I."

"Yeah, but-"

"But I am not completely devoid of feeling," he interrupted her, rinsing out the cloth. "We all have breaking points and we all do things we regret, when instinct reigns over conscience and innocent people pay the price for it. Yes, you killed, Caroline. You tore families apart and ruined lives, but you weren't yourself when you committed those acts. And the important thing is that, had you been, you never would have gone through with them."

He knew she was listening but she still shook her head, denying the validity of his words. "They were just....people. Someone's husband and daughter and sister and I just....I just killed them."

Klaus put down the cloth and stood again, ignoring the way his chest pinched at the glimmer of pain woven beneath her voice. He left once more and returned with a bag. "I had someone fetch some clothes for you. Just in case you'd like to change into something less....barbaric."

She pulled herself forward into a sitting position and Klaus sped over, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Careful," he said as she tucked her legs beneath her.

Caroline gave him an expectant look, her eyes boring into his. "Well I'm not going to change while you're in here."

He grimaced, feeling a smile raise to his lips. "Of course not. I'll wait in the hall. Unless you'd rather be left to yourself." He squandered his disappointment before she could hear it, but to his relief, she shook her head very quickly. "No. Alone is the last thing I want to be actually."

"Very well then," Klaus said, walking to the door. "I'll wait for you downstairs. And Caroline?"

"Yes?"

"Do not assume that just because you are alive and those you killed are not, that you are the one who's better off. You will pay for what you've done, in every day of your life, when they are the first faces you wake to, and the last ones you bid goodnight."

On that note, he left her room.

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My muscles felt like they were composed of lead. My movements were agonizingly slow as I showered off the blood that turned the water pink. It felt unbelievable to feel clean again and usually, I would have enjoyed it.

But not today.

When finished, I unzipped the bag from Stefan, feeling tears well up in my eyes at the thought of him.

"You aren't this person, Caroline."

"This isn't you."

I shook the thought away. I would not think about that now. Not yet.

Instead, I turned my attention to my clothes, pulling out a comfortable t shirt and sweats. Jeans were out of the question.

Since I didn't have the energy to deal with my hair, I left it as is, opening my door and heading downstairs.

Klaus was standing above his bar, his wet and bloodied clothes exchanged for clean dry ones and I ignored the weird heart-thing that happened at the sight of him. Clearly my emotions were in overdrive.

He pursed his lips and poured a glass of bourbon, extending it to me. I headed for it, snatching up the bottle instead. I popped off the lid and drank it straight from the lip.

"I guess that answers my question as to how you're feeling now."

I took a few more sips, letting it scorch its way down my throat. It still wasn't enough to drown the guilt in.

"How do you think I'm feeling?" I asked, genuinely curious. I took a seat on the couch, folding my legs under me. Klaus followed after, swirling the glass cup in his hand. "I could guess you are feeling quite conflicted," he said. "The guilt....guilt is one of the heaviest burdens to bear and the hardest to rid yourself of."

I cast him a sideways glance, feeling those traitorous tears return. "Will it get easier?"

He leaned toward me and swiped a thumb beneath my cheek, before the first tear could fall. "The beginning is always the most difficult. And once you make it past that, you're gold."

"I don't feel like I gold," I said. "I feel like....like....what's a worthless type of metal?"

He smirked, letting his hand fall back down. "I'm not sure there is one, Love. Each has its value."

I felt more tears prick my eyes, one spilling over the rim. "Then I'm not even a metal. I'm....plastic. I'm a product that pollutes the earth on a global scale."

"Caroline," he said, voice unusually soft. I turned to him and before I knew it, I was crying. The ugly kind with the sobbing and then he was wrapping his arms gently around me and I was crying into him.

I expected him to say something. To tell me to pull it together, but to my surprise, he didn't. And I realized that even now, I was underestimating him, expecting cruelty after everything he'd done.

I used to think him hard but now I understood that when he was hard, it was only because I practically forced him to be. I hadn't even given him a chance. I hadn't allowed myself to fully see the guy beneath the reputation that would always come before him.

How long had I seen him as more monster than man?

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice breaking through my tears.

"Why are you apologizing?" He asked, and the fact that he didn't expect me to thank him in the first place only made it worse.

I pulled back to look him in the face. "You saved me."

"You're apologizing for my dropping you into a river multiple times?" He asked, voice lilting with surprise.

"I'm not saying it was enjoyable. But I see why you did it."

"Well if it consoles you, I would say that we're even now."

I passed my hands over my eyes, trying to rid them of tears. It did little because only more replaced them. "How?"

He smiled. "You've already saved me, Love. I see it only fair to return the courtesy."

I paused, searching for the right words. "That's it," I said, half joking-half serious. "I'm lower than plastic."

He stroked my hair, his touch sending sparks of electricity down my arms. It was as if every small feeling was amplified and I was too in tune to the world and to myself to control it. Images and memories flooded back, but this time, they held emotion. The deaths, the drowning, the accusations. Each one added a new weight to me until I was sure I'd break from the pressure.

"What about Stefan?" I asked and I felt his fingers momentarily still. I instantly regretted asking but I needed to know. "You can give him his memories back, right?"

Klaus nodded. "That was the plan from the start. Since I knew you opposed force, I....I presented the idea to Stefan." Klaus smiled. "I'm still quite surprised he willfully consented."

"Wait," I said, holding my hands up. "You....you asked for his permission to erase me? And he said yes?"

Klaus nodded.

My breath halted in my throat and I wanted to apologize again, for thinking he would have gone deliberately against Stephen. For being surprised to learn he didn't.

I stood up so quickly, my back screamed in protest.

"Caroline, what is-"

"What's the matter with you?" I asked Klaus, whirling on him.

He seemed taken aback, staring at me wide eyed, appearing thoroughly confused. In a monotone voice, he asked, "What have I done now?"

"Stop!" I yelled at him. He stood, but I took a step back. "Just....stop it!"

"Stop what?" I caught the edge to his voice this time.

I motioned to his entirety, as if that was an answer in itself. "This. You. Why do you instantly think you're the one who's done something wrong?"

Klaus took a step forward, quirking an eyebrow at me as he neared. "Perhaps it's because most often, I am."

I shook my head, feeling disgust rise inside. But it was directed at me. "Really? Were you the one who went rampant in a city? Were you the one who didn't care when her friend forgot her or when she put herself in a position to be captured and then had to drag you out into the middle of nowhere and save her? Were you the one who killed fifteen....sixteen- well, apparently so many that she can't even remember the actual number of people?"

Klaus pursed his lips, watching me intently. His expression was unreadable. "So....you're angry because I've done nothing to upset you," he said slowly.

"Yes," I said, my tone exasperated. "Wait, no. No, I'm pissed that you are still able to find ways to blame yourself! This was my fault. This entire thing was on me. And you're being so....self deprecating."

He smiled, and this time, it reached his eyes. "Self deprecating, Love? You don't think I've had my fair share of rampages? That I haven't lost it before? I should be flattered by your faith but I'm surprised to find myself somewhat disappointed by it."

I scoffed, returning to the chair. Maybe it was my emotions in hyperdrive because that torrent was still there, trying to release what could only be felt.

"No." I said. "I mean I get that that makes sense. I just....ugh, I thought I knew what kind of a person you were. I thought I knew what kind of person I was and now I just can't think and I don't know what I'm supposed to feel anymore."

"Your emotions are overbearing. It's quite normal," he soothed. "It should die down shortly."

He was right. I wasn't being reasonable. Yet, I still attempted to put my thoughts into actual, spoken words. "I just want to know when you became....considerate."

Klaus's eyebrows rose but he remained stoic, moving only to refill his glass with bourbon. "Perhaps we should review the events that have taken place. Only a few days ago, I had you wrapped in chains and I let you fall to the bottom of a river to experience death. I brought up personal things in the hopes to invoke pain. Then I abandoned you, and allowed that savage to....harm you," he paused at the words. "There are many things I'd call those actions, but considerate is not among them, Love."

"Well, let me ask you this then; why do you think Stephan came to you?" I challenged, standing again. "He came to you because even he knew you could do it."

To my surprise, Klaus's voice held a tinge of anger. "He didn't come to me because I could do it, Caroline. He came to me because he knew what I knew; that I was the only one who would. That's hardly a compliment."

I rolled my eyes, turning my back on him before completing a circle. "But why?" I asked. "Why did you do all those things?"

"Because I'm selfish, Caroline," he said, Taking a step closer to me. "I'm selfish in the way that when Stephan came to me and told me that you had gone off the deep end, I decided to do what it took to bring you back to your senses, because I knew that if you continued, you'd die. Whether by a vampire's hand or by your own guilt and I didn't want that, not just for you, but also for myself."

I stared up at him, feeling that ridiculous butterfly sensation again. I tried to breathe past it. But before I could say anything, he was there, his hand cupping my cheek. "And perhaps this stems from my artistic side, because I cannot stand by and watch as beautiful things are destroyed."

I pursed my lips, looking momentarily away from him. I couldn't talk about that now. Not with him. At least, not yet. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to move on from this."

His finger lifted my chin, eyes coaxing mine upward. "I'll let you in on a little secret; no one does. You must take it day by day, and you'll find at some point, perhaps in a few years or decades, maybe even centuries, that it isn't something you think about as often as you once did."

I pulled away from his grasp and ran a hand through my hair. "So great, I can't do anything. Besides sit around and cry as if I'm the one who deserves to be comforted. I don't want that."

"Then what do you want, Caroline?"

"I want...." I wanted to to turn back time and save those people. I wanted to quiet the guilt that clawed at my heart, whispering words like killer and monster to me. I wanted to wake up to find that everything done had been a dream and nothing more.

"I want to go to bed," I said, turning on my heels abruptly and heading for the stairs. I almost doubled back for my bottle of bourbon but I felt the sobs returning and left it behind.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow."

And without even glancing at him, I stormed up the stairs and into my room.

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They flashed through my mind, quickly at first, images that blurred together but then slowed, each one holding a face. I saw a man that looked like a cowboy in a checkered shirt, another that resembled someone from a classical film. There were also women and I watched as the images filter out, playing on an endless loop behind my eyes.

I tried to name them off but realized in horror that I didn't know them.

I didn't even know their names.

I wanted to stop looking; to hide these images away, but then I was there. I stood in front of them all, my hands covered in red.

I'm sorry, I thought.

But they couldn't hear me over the sound of their screams.

I jerked awake, gasping as I sat forward, my forehead sheeted in sweat. I felt those hot tears again as I tried to rid myself of the remnants of that horrible nightmare, shaking beneath the covers.

But then I had to remind myself that it wasn't a dream.

It had been real.

When the truth of that hit, I laid back down, still breathing heavily as I let the tears fall.

Klaus was right. I would have to live with what I'd done every day, for a decade or a century, until perhaps eventually, I could move on from it. Until I could go on and not wake from nightmares of the dead.

But I also had to face the possibility that that day may never come.

Because maybe I didn't want it to.