The first person was an accident; a small inconvenience I didn't mean to have happened.

I wasn't searching to kill, but no one was perfect. I guessed I'd pushed him too forcefully for his frail human body to recover from. Oops.

The second, however, was merely necessary. He was in my way, a basic invitation to be rid of. Then after him came a third, and a fourth. A fifth. I stopped trying to care around the eighth. I could do it without hesitation at the tenth.

A part of me didn't want to be a killer. It was a small voice locked behind some barrier in my mind saying this was wrong, but I didn't listen to it. I didn't face it. But for the purpose of not getting caught, I laid low. And put effort in being somewhat careful.

When Stefan finally found me three weeks later after I'd fled the hospital, I walked by him, and gave him no other acknowledgement. That did little to deter him, though and he followed after me, like a lost puppy or some mother hen trying to coax its chick back into place. He first tried to reason with me. Then guilt me. Then challenge me on why I was doing what I was, but my answer was simple enough.

Because I wanted to.

"This isn't you, Caroline." He said. But I just smirked sideways at him. Of course he would try and tell me who I was. Who I was before my mom died. I remembered it well enough and that girl . . . she was weak. And annoying. Full of far too much sunshine in a place of storms.

I shrugged as I walked, dipping down an alleyway and catching traces of car exhaust and barbecue on the air. "Yeah, well. People change."

"You are better than this," Stefan dragged on. I could tell by the desperation in his voice how hard he was trying to convince me. It would've been cute if it wasn't so irritating. "You're still Caroline. This person...you don't want to be this person."

I chuckled. "This person? Who do I want to be then, Stefan?" I asked, pausing long enough to face him. "The dutiful control-freak who kept worrying about everyone else? Who arranged events and tried to play the human? I think I'll pass."

"You'll have to turn it on eventually," he said. "Whether by your own volition...or not."

I smiled sweetly at him. "I have no intention of coming back, Stefan. There's nothing back there for me. Friends? I don't need them. Stupid, little boy crushes? I really don't need that. And I don't need you. For once, I'm actually happy. So just leave me alone." I resumed walking.

"You can't keep killing people," he hissed, blocking my path.

"Or what?" I snapped. "You'll kidnap me and torture me into turning it on? Fine." I took a step closer, dissolving the space until the smell of his detergent became cloying. "Go right ahead."

He ran a hand through his hair. I recognized it as something he did when he was trying to think, but I spoke before he could speak his thoughts out loud.

"You can't do anything I won't see coming," I said, speaking around a smile. I dusted off the shoulder of his jacket. "I know your tricks. I know your games. If you want to stop me, you'll have to kill me."

He caught my wrist in his. "I won't hurt you. But I won't allow innocent people to die just because it doesn't cost you anything to do it. You will come back, Caroline."

I felt my smile morph into a wolfish grin. "Then you'll be the first to know." I tore my wrist from his grip and sidestepped around him.

"One more person, Caroline," he said from behind me. "One more chance to do this your way. Or any promises I've made...I'll be forced to break."

I cast a wave over my shoulder and continued walking. "Have fun picking up the pieces then."

******

He wasn't used to being surprised. He loathed it, in fact. It was an ancient pet peeve of his that never failed to grate on him and his patience. And only the very desperate resorted to trifle with his patience.

So when a knock came at Klaus's door late one evening, he didn't anticipate Stefan Salvatore to be the one on the receiving end.

And there came the moment of surprise, that was quickly doused by suspicion and ire. Klaus glared at him. "What do you want this time?" He drawled, voice bored. "More ex girlfriend grievances? The unfortunate friend bitten by a werewolf? It must be something rather heinous to bring you to my doorstep."

Like always, Stefan got right to the point. "Caroline."

Klaus paused on the mention. A part of him seemed to freeze inside himself. He didn't bother wondering if Stefan would come all the way out to New Orleans to update him on Caroline if it wasn't of the utmost importance. He knew, that if Stefan were here, things in Mystic Falls must have taken a dismal turn.

"What about her?"

Stefan suddenly pushed passed him and walked into Klaus's home. The action issued a burst of annoyance inside Klaus but he shoved it away as he closed the door behind him and went into the living room, decorated mostly in white furniture and light colors. It was not so much a home as it was a safe house but Klaus had ordered the furniture himself. Red plashed the most with white, and Klaus appreciated the irony.

But Stefan made no comment about the place as he whirled back the original vampire. "She turned off her humanity."

Well.

"She did what?" Klaus couldn't keep the subtle shock from his voice. He found his previous annoyance dissipate as he scrutinized Stefan. "What could possibly have driven her to that?"

"Her mother died."

Klaus felt his eyes narrow. "When?"

"Almost a month ago."

He pursed his lips, struggling to fully understand all the implications. Of course he knew all the implications, but they became infinitely harder to incorporate when it involved Caroline. Because Caroline took no pleasure in harming others, and imaging it was . . . unsettling. "Has she killed anyone?" he ventured to ask, hoping Stefan would deny it. This was Caroline, after all, and though Klaus would never admit to it out loud, there was a piece of him that couldn't stand the thought of her becoming less like the girl he'd come to care for and more like-

"Thirteen. Maybe more."

Like him.

He sighed, ignoring the slight pain that coursed through his chest. "That's quite a predicament you've found yourselves in. And what, pray tell, do you expect me to do about it?"

"You love her," Stefan deadpanned, as if those words were of little consequence. That made Klaus bristle but he allowed the vampire to continue, uninterrupted. "You'd do anything for her. And frankly, nothing we've tried has proven effective. We need a different...angle."

Despite the situation, Klaus smirked, but it was cut from bitterness. "And sending me in, a man she claims to despise, is your new strategy for having her turn the switch back on? That it will be enough to provoke her?" The smirk dropped. "I think you'd best try a different route, Mate."

Stefan's jaw tightened and he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "We have no other options that won't cause her physical pain and though you love her you are willing . . . to go certain lengths if that means saving her."

Klaus's anger rushed back to him. "Are you suggesting I'd hurt her? Insulting me is not the proper way to get my cooperation, Stefan."

"You'd do what it takes," he amended. "And as much as I don't like this, I know you want her to be happy."

Klaus could clearly hear the undertone of reluctance in the other vampire's voice, but he didn't press the matter. He only gave a small, nearly imperceptible shake of his head. "She has her humanity off. Of course she's elated. Not having to face the pain of her mother's death. Letting go of control. That is entirely the point."

"But she's not Caroline," said Stefan, taking a step forward. "And if this continues, she won't survive having it turned off when the time comes."

"You underestimate her," Klaus replied, tone accusing.

"I'm just trying to prevent more casualties." Stefan loosed a soundless sigh. His eyes grew hard. "This will destroy her. And I think...I believe you might be the one person who can minimize the damage."

Klaus smiled, but there was no mirth in it. "You flatter me."

Stefan didn't return his humor. "Will you help her or not?"

Klaus rested against the back of a white sofa and pretended to mull it over. He would help her. He already knew that much the second Stefan said her name, but he gave it a minute and exaggerated it a bit. Just enough to make the other worry.

Finally, though, he turned to the younger Salvatore brother and smirked.

"I'll try my hand at saving her, Mate, but I wouldn't pin my hopes on it. After all, when does the villain ever prevail?"