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“Do you believe in soulmates?”
Elena had asked the question at one of their sleepovers. Bonnie turned on the air-mattress she was sharing with Caroline, jostling her uncomfortably.
“Grams does,” Bonnie said, “She told me all about it.”
“If it’s a real thing,” Caroline said slowly, “I don’t trust it.”
“I do,” Elena said, staring dreamily up at the ceiling. “I believe there’s a single epic love out there for each of us.”
“Yes, well,” Bonnie said sceptically, with a secret smile for Caroline. “There’s no surprise there.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elena exclaimed, and if they’d been any less tipsy on stolen frozen pina coladas, she might even have sat up to question Bonnie more thoroughly. As it were, they were all feeling too pleasantly lethargic to be properly offended.
“It means, Elena,” Caroline’s voice was biting, “that you’re the perfect candidate for believing in soulmates.”
“I don’t understand how you can’t believe that there’s a single person out there for you. Isn’t life much too depressing that way?”
“It’s different,” Bonnie said, and her gentle tone would make Elena listen, Caroline knew, like she’d never listen to Caroline. “Your parents are together, they’re happy. You’re dating Matt Donovan. You have no reason not to believe in soulmates.”
“I think I would believe in them even if those things weren’t true.”
“It wouldn’t make sense,” Caroline argued. “If soulmates were real, why are so many people with the wrong people?”
“Because they’re impatient,” Elena guessed.
Bonnie twirled her fingers through the dust motes illuminated above her head by the ray of moonlight leaking through Elena’s purple curtains. “I think that even if you find your soulmate, there’s some measure of choice involved. Maybe some people just make the wrong choices.”
“Good,” Caroline said. “What if my soulmate is, like, the worst? I wouldn’t want to be stuck with him forever. I want some kind of choice.”
“But that’s the beauty of it,” Elena sounded wistful, “Your soulmate might be awful to everyone else, but they’re the best for you.”
Caroline scoffed. “Okay, whatever.”
“So is Stefan, like, your soulmate now?” Caroline crunched down on some chips. Her gums had been really sensitive that whole morning, and she was trying to drown out her cravings with enough salt and vinegar seasoning to make anyone less durable’s tongue bleed.
“How many of those have you had?” Bonnie asked, eyeing the foil packet in Caroline’s hand with amused distaste.
“Would you rather I sink my teeth into your jugular, Bonnie? Because that can totally be arranged.”
Bonnie dropped it, instead turning to Elena. “So? Soulmate?”
Elena fiddled with the awful necklace around her neck. “I think he might be, yeah.”
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Elena looked down at her sleeve in confusion. “Do I have toothpaste on me, or something?”
Bonnie slammed the grimoire shut that she’d been reading and leaned over the table to tug at Elena’s sleeve until her wrist was exposed. “What’s that?”
Caroline frowned. “Bonnie, there’s nothing there.”
Elena looked just as confused as Caroline felt, and they shared a look.
“No.” Bonnie’s eyes were wide. “There’s definitely something there.
Elena rubbed at her wrist, a little self-conscious. “You’re freaking me out, now, Bon.”
Bonnie stood and grabbed her things. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Caroline watched her leave, then crumpled up her chip wrapper. “Well, that was weird.” She stood. “Do you want anything from the vending machine?”
That was how they figured it out.
“You must be joking.”
“Caroline, would I joke about something like this?” Bonnie’s eyebrows lifted, and Caroline sighed.
“I know you wouldn’t.” Caroline sat down next to Bonnie on the couch. “Can we just, like, not tell her?”
The look Bonnie sent her was pure disagreement. It was something she’d perfected, especially since she got her powers.
“How would you like it if I knew the name of your soulmate and didn’t tell you?”
Caroline rolled her eyes, knowing that Bonnie was right but not quite ready to admit defeat.
“But my soulmate wouldn’t be this horrible and evil and disgusting.” She narrowed her eyes. “Also, how does it work? Does Elena just have no clue?”
“The way I understand it, it’ll become visible once she chooses him.”
“And you can just see it, whenever, because you’re a witch?” Caroline still wasn’t completely sold on the whole thing, but she was really trying to be a better friend.
“Only after she met him. It’s magic,” Bonnie shrugged. “The same that runs through my veins.”
“Okay, fine. Say we tell Elena that she should dump Stefan for his homicidal, manipulative older brother. Who’s to say she’ll even listen?”
“She might not,” Bonnie agreed. “But I think we both know she will.”
And that was the bit that scared Caroline. Because if sweet, perfect Elena had a soulmate this horrible, then who was Caroline going to get?”
“Do you see anything?” Caroline turned, giving Bonnie a better view. “Come on, Bonnie.”
“I told you, Care, there’s nothing. I’m sorry.”
Caroline huffed. “Maybe you just missed it.”
Bonnie rose an eyebrow. “You’re standing in front of me, completely naked. There is literally no chance of me missing it.” She tossed Caroline her dress. “Plus, I would have felt it on you. It gives off a buzz.”
Caroline put her clothes back on, flipping her hair back. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Bonnie unlocked the bathroom stall. “Why is this suddenly such a big deal? Is it because Matt broke up with you?”
They left the stall, and Caroline watched Bonnie wash her hands, eyes burning. She felt embarrassed at how much it was affecting her. “I just thought that maybe…”
Bonnie turned sympathetic. “That maybe you could convince him to love you? It doesn’t work that way, Care, and you know it.”
Caroline did know it. She’d seen Elena’s reluctance to believe them, and how she’d skirted around both Damon and Stefan for a month. But then she’d also seen when one day, Elena showed up with stark black letters on her wrist, and it had just been over.
“I don’t understand why it’s always Elena who gets to be happy.”
“Don’t be bitter, Caroline. You’re a vampire now, you can’t expect to find your soulmate immediately when you have all the time in the world ahead of you.”
And while Bonnie was right, Caroline didn’t like it one bit.
“Alright, who is it?”
Caroline shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Bonnie’s gaze. “Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb, Care.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Bonnie dumped her half-full mug of coffee down the drain. Caroline was about to be offended, since she’d made the coffee, but Bonnie leaned her hands on the table Caroline was using for her Miss Mystic-planning, and Caroline had bigger things to worry about.
“Bonnie, you’re folding my menus.”
“Caroline, you dragged me into a toilet-stall to inspect your naked body because you were that desperate to know who your soulmate is. Now I can feel it on you, but you haven’t said anything. Why? Is it Tyler?”
Caroline let her head slump onto her arms. “Just leave it, Bonnie.”
“I don’t really want to, if this is how you’re reacting.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Caroline’s voice was muffled.
“Actually, it can’t be Tyler,” Bonnie reasoned, “You’ve already met him last time I checked you over.”
Caroline lifted her head. “I love you, Bonnie, I do, but for once in your life, don’t meddle.”
Bonnie’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
He’d left her a dress.
Caroline glared at the blue material, wishing she didn’t like it as much as she did.
It was bad enough that he’d been invited into her house, had seen her dying (because of him) and promised her worlds that she could only have dreamt of.
And then, when his blood touched her tongue, she’d felt it. It was warmth like she hadn’t felt since she’d been able to go outside without her daylight ring, soak up the sun until her skin turned red and achy.
It wasn’t just because his skin felt like a furnace wrapped around her as he fed her his blood. The warmth was inside her, and without having to look, she knew that she’d find his stupid name written somewhere on her.
His eyes had been wide when she stopped drinking, and she knew that he must have felt it, too.
But he left without another word, and she had no intention of going to look for Klaus, of all people, not when he’d tried to kill her best friend, and turned her boyfriend into a freakshow like him.
And Tyler, what a mess. She’d had to pretend to be afraid of him biting her again to keep him from seeing the infuriating, overly-dramatic, curling letters on her ribs. She was absolutely certain that it was Klaus’s fault that her soulmark was so ugly. It had to be, because she refused to believe that her soul could produce something with so many frills.
And now he wanted her to go to his mother’s ball with him, and there was no way she would be able to keep Bonnie at bay once she gave into his requests.
Because without meaning to, without ever even having a chance to think about it, Caroline had chosen Klaus. She’d chosen his blood, his promises of a great big world, his life instead of death. And somehow her soulmark had taken that to mean that she wanted him, too, when really, she’d just not wanted to die.
It was ridiculous.
“I missed you at the festivities tonight.”
It was a testament to Caroline’s nerves that she barely even flinched when Klaus invited himself into her bedroom.
She focused on filing the last of her nails. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of throwing a tantrum. “I didn’t have anything to wear.”
“Did you not get my gift?”
She would have thought he sounded hurt, except she was still refusing to look at him.
“Oh, I got it. I’d just rather drop dead than have anything of yours that close to my body.”
“Ah.” He moved to sit in front of her on the bed, mirroring her criss-cross position. “That must be difficult, sweetheart, when my name is etched into your skin.”
She ignored him, reaching for the bottle of nail-polish on the bedside table. She was about to open it when he stopped her, one long-fingered hand taking it from her.
“May I?”
Reluctantly, she looked up to see dimples and blue eyes that held so many lifetimes within them that Caroline wasn’t sure what to make of it, so she nodded.
He was gentle, one hand holding hers in place as the other painted neat lines along her nails. It exasperated her that he could do a better job than she did.
“My sister,” he explained, since some of her confusion must have shown on her face, “She always had me do this for her. Of course, nowadays she prefers those awful hard tips that make her resemble a cat.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type.”
Klaus dipped the brush back into the bottle and shifted her hand just so. “You don’t know me, Caroline.”
And as she watched him quietly paint her nails with careful precision, she thought that no, she really didn’t.
She knew the rumours he allowed about himself, the darkest whispers in the dead of night that warned about a beast older than time with more blood on his hands than there was water in the ocean. And he liked being feared, she could see it in the way he interacted with even the most oblivious of people. You would be a fool not to be a little scared of Klaus.
Even her, who’d unintentionally marked him for herself.
“How does it work?” she asked. “The whole – you know.”
“Do I?” He smirked, and she glared at him from below her lashes until he became serious again. “I’ve never much believed in fate. A thousand years I’ve paraded around, beheading witches and ripping hearts from those who tried to spread lies about soulmates, of all things. As if life were as simple for anyone to be limited to loving a single person.”
“You’ve been in love before,” Caroline realised.
Klaus didn’t react to her words. “Of course, I intended for you to be leverage over Tyler. He was so determined to get around his sire bond, and if I could show him that I held your life in my hands, he’d have more of an incentive to remain obedient. Now, Tyler seems quite irrelevant in the great scheme of things.”
Klaus switched to her other hand, but didn’t immediately start painting. “Love, friendship, family. You always have a choice, Caroline. I have no intention of taking yours away from you.”
Her gaze dropped at his words, unable to keep up their eye contact. Without knowing, he’d addressed the single biggest fear she’d always had about meeting her soulmate. For weeks, she’d lived buried in the knowledge that she, who’d been so hard on Elena for choosing Damon, of all people, was somehow tied to the greatest evil she’d ever known.
“But if I can see it,” she said, “doesn’t that mean I’ve already chosen?”
The brush was cool against her finger. “Sweetheart, no offensive to your Bennet friend, but I do not have an inkling of trust for anything a witch says. Contrary to what you’re probably thinking, I’m here because I fancy you, not because of any supposed magical link we might have.”
She lifted her eyes to look at him, and his expression turned mischievous.
“Though since I find the thought of being marked by you utterly delightful, I don’t mind playing along just this once.”
“You’re horrible,” Caroline said, but while she’d manage to temp down her laughter, the corners of her lips were turning up out of their own accord.
He replaced the cap of the nail polish once all her nails were a perfectly even soft pink, and handed it back to her.
“All done, love.”
“Thank you.”
“Why are you two ganging up on me?” Caroline asked.
She’d been on a very fun shopping trip with Bonnie and Elena, when they’d started being very obvious in talking about how Elena was handling her soulmark, and oh if only they had another experience to compare it to, right, Caroline?
“We’re not ganging up on you,” Elena said. “We’re just your friends who care very much about you.”
Caroline wanted to laugh. She knew what their reaction would be if she came clean about how many times she’d allowed Klaus to lure her from her bedroom with promises of late night adventures and far-off tales about his many ridiculous siblings.
When she’d complained about Damon and Elena, Caroline had been the bad guy who hadn’t been able to accept her friend’s happiness, regardless of the things Damon had done to her. Now that the roles were reversed, she’d once again be made the villain, if only because Klaus had hurt Elena instead of Caroline.
“And I told you, it’s none of your business.”
“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Bonnie said, and Caroline felt her temper flare up.
“Well, you know what, Bonnie? It is that bad. It’s bad because I don’t feel guilty, I just feel annoyed that I feel like I can’t tell my best friends about this massive thing that happened to me, because you’ll be mad and try to fix a situation that really doesn’t need to be fixed.” Caroline slammed the dresses she’d wanted to try on onto the nearest rack.
As she walked away, her irritation simmered away as she realised that she’d meant it.
Maybe she didn’t want her friends to know about Klaus, because she was scared they’d try to take him away from her, and for some reason the very thought made veins creep in under her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself.
“I heard you were leaving.”
Klaus turned, hands behind his back, that lopsided smile of his in place as various hybrids scurried around him with boxes and other paraphernalia.
“Yes, I’m afraid my presence is needed elsewhere. Elijah has managed to work himself into a nasty little witch mess in New Orleans, and as always, I’m the one who needs to untangle him.”
“When will you be back?” Caroline asked.
Klaus’s gaze was intense on hers, and he stepped closer. “Do you want me to come back, Caroline?”
She thought about her friends, how they’d been overcome with joy at Klaus’s imminent departure. She thought about the looks Bonnie and Elena shared when they thought she wasn’t looking, and about the fondness she’d developed for the ugly letters on her skin.
“I don’t know.”
Klaus looked away, then back at her, and this time there was something sure underneath all the blue. “Ask me to come back for you, and I will.”
“Fine, yes.” She looked down, voice going quiet. “I want you to come back. For me.”
Of course, with Klaus being Klaus, he didn’t make his return to Mystic Falls six months later subtle.
She’d been tied up in the Salvatore basement beside Damon, unable to move because of the nasty contraptions that Connor guy had used on them. She was carefully watching the piece of string leading from her chest to some kind of bomb that she had no doubt would hurt like a bitch if triggered.
“Hey, Blondie.” Damon spoke slowly, careful not to trigger his own bomb. “Since we’re on the brink of death, and all, why don’t you distract me by telling me about those pretty swirls I can see through your shirt.”
Caroline could glance down just enough to notice that sure enough, the vervain had soaked through her white shirt, making it just opaque enough that she was reasonably certain Damon couldn’t make out any specifics.
“Fuck off,” she breathed, “I don’t like you, and I’d much rather be dying with anyone else.”
“Yes, well, you’re stuck with me.”
Caroline gritted her teeth, and reminded herself that she wasn’t willing to actually die just to get back at Damon, and triggering the probably werewolf-venom-riddled bomb would not be in her best interest.
She had no doubt that Klaus would spill some blood for her, but Caroline didn’t feel like listening to Elena complain if he ignored Damon in favour of taking care of her.
She heard a noise on the stairs, and then the door swung open to reveal a frazzled Bonnie.
“Stop!”
“Don’t!”
Bonnie paused in the doorway at both Caroline and Damon’s warnings.
“What?” she asked, eyes flicking around the room, taking in the boobytrap. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Damon snarked. “No offense, Bonbon, but did you bring some more durable backup?”
“As it happens,” Bonnie said with an accusing glare in Caroline’s direction. “I did.”
Klaus appeared behind her, quick eyes taking in the situation before settling on Caroline. “I leave for three minutes and this is what you get up to, sweetheart? I’d suggest a hobby, but we all know the world of knitting isn’t ready for you.”
Caroline wanted to laugh, or cry, or yell at Klaus for making jokes while she was in obvious pain, but then he carefully stepped around the string to kneel in front of her.
“Alright, love?” His voice was quiet as he calculated the best way to get her out.
“Not quite,” she said, and his fingers made quick work of ripping the fabric of her shirt away to loosen the hook leading to the bomb. He caught it before it would have triggered the explosion, then tugged at Caroline’s chair so it spun around just enough for him to tuck the hook neatly into the wood.
“There,” he said, already tugging away the vervain ropes that held her hands. Once she was free, she stood and threw her arms around him. His grip was tight around her.
“Is this a bad time for me to remind you of my existence?” Damon sniped.
“Since your existence has never been very important to me,” Klaus drawled, “It doesn’t matter when you choose to bring it up. I can ignore it just as well from any angle.”
“It is pretty ugly,” Bonnie agreed.
Caroline’s fingers tightened around the blood bag she was nursing. Klaus had already strung up Connor in the next room, and by the sounds of it, he and Damon were having a great time extracting information from him.
“Sorry for not telling you sooner.”
Bonnie looked resigned. “I get it. We wouldn’t have had the best reactions, especially so soon after everything.”
Caroline frowned. “And now?”
“Honestly?” Bonnie grimaced. “I’m still not thrilled, but with the way he tore through the town earlier when he caught wind of what had happened to you, I can’t really question his intentions.”
Caroline snorted. “It’s Klaus. You should always question his intentions.”
“Ouch, love, that’s hurtful.” Klaus entered the living room, wiping at his fingers with a wet towel that Caroline hoped nobody was overly attached to, since the chances that it would ever be the same again was slim to none.
“I think,” Bonnie said, “that I need to go somewhere else.”
“You don’t have to,” Caroline protested.
Bonnie smiled, and it was right in the middle of indulgence and discomfort. “I’ll see you later, Care.”
“Look at that, I’ve scared away your witch,” Klaus remarked.
Caroline scoffed. “You can’t scare Bonnie away, she’s up to her eyes in Expression.”
Klaus winced. “Nasty stuff, that.”
“Yeah, she’s working on it.”
Klaus sat next to her, and his eyes lingered on the place where his jacket covered his name on her side. She shifted, unsure of what to say.
“You came back.”
His gaze lifted, and she’d missed his dimples so much.
“Yes.”
“How’s Elijah?”
“Oh, you know, treating New Orleans politics like a chess game when he should really just tip the board over and call it a day.”
Caroline smiled at the image. “Nobody likes a sore loser.”
“Caroline,” he said, “I felt it.”
“What?”
“When you were in trouble.” He shifted, tugging at the neck of his shirt so she could see the neat script spelling out her name on his collarbone. As expected, it was much less of an eyesore than her own monstrosity, and she was helpless to stop herself from reaching out to touch.
Klaus tensed up, but he didn’t push her away.
“It’s real, isn’t it?” Caroline asked.
Klaus’s hand closed around hers, and he pulled it gently away from his skin. Instead of letting go, he rested both their hands on his knee.
“Do you wish it wasn’t me?” he asked, sincerity dripping from him and making Caroline’s insides ache at the expression on his face.
“No,” Caroline said. “Do you wish it wasn’t me?”
Klaus looked at her as if she’d suggested they replace his favourite bourbon with wolfsbane.
“Caroline,” he almost snarled, “If anyone ever answers that question with an affirmative, I will personally rip out their eyes and shove it into their liver.”
Caroline laughed, and when Klaus looked dejected, she ran her fingertips over the frown lines on his forehead.
“You know, I’m starting to think my soulmark could never have been anything other than over-the-top-dramatic.”
“Don’t mock me, sweetheart, I’m trying to make a heartfelt declaration.” He rested his forehead against hers.
“Try a little less violence next time.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
And he kissed her soft enough that she knew he might be awful to everyone else, but he’s the best for her.
Even if she would rather die than admit that Elena had been absolutely correct.