A/N: In case you think this idea is nuts, I have an argument! LOL In the episode 5, season 1, we saw Damon using his compulsion on Caroline for her to free him from the basement where Stefan had locked him. And later, while Stefan was locked in the safe box under the water, Elena had a bad feeling and dreams about him. Soooooo... what if Klaus was in trouble, locked away and in pain, and he dreamed about Caroline? What if Caroline saw him suffering in her dreams?... (Also, no Hayley, no baby). Please send me your reviews and comments to let me know what you think. And If you like it, I'll continue! I'm rating it M for the promise of some smut in the future *wink wink*.
It took months of planning, but Marcel was ready to take over the city. He tricked Klaus to meet him, Diego managed to steal Papa Tunde's blade from the compound, Genevieve created a spell to slow him down. All the pieces were falling together. The only problem left would be Elijah, who would search for his brother. But even himself was so tired of Klaus' behavior and temper that eventually he left the city, leaving Klaus behind. Now, no one would be looking for him. It was too perfect.
Many "good" vampires died that day, trying to hold down Klaus, just like the time before. But this time Marcel didn't back off, he didn't give up and by the time the sun came up the next day, he and his followers locked Klaus in a cement coffin in the Garden. Before the coffin was closed by its heavy lid, Marcel and Klaus looked at each other. Marcel looked down proudly -and a little sad- at the original vampire laying in front of him, unable to move because of the magic dagger in his chest.
Can a man be so arrogant that he doesn't admit it even when he's defeated? I am, but I'm not a man. I'm immortal. It doesn't matter if I come out of here in a day, a week, a century. I will still have my revenge. But I've never been known for being a patient man.
Klaus would had rather the dagger he used so many times with his siblings. Papa Tunde's dagger only paralyzed his body but not his mind. Klaus always thought Michael was the only one who could torture him, or at least be the one whose attempts would hurt the most. But he was wrong. His mind, his pain, loneliness, his own thoughts and voice were the worst torture he ever endured. Even in the darkness he could see Marcel's eyes looking at him, Genevieve's smirk, one that he planned on whipping out of her face. But any of that was worse than his own conscience telling him he got himself in there, he practically dug his own grave. His siblings weren't even looking around for him! Didn't they know he was in danger? Or didn't they care at all?
Something told him he would make an excellent example for Camille to observe and study, since he went through the five phases:
Denial. He didn't consider himself defeated. He would come out and when he did, he would tear Marcel apart, limb by limb.
Anger. Being paralyzed was like an itch he couldn't scratch, he wanted to bang his fists on the cement, he wanted to kick, scream, bite. But he couldn't.
Bargaining. The ghosts from his past came to hunt him, and he kept telling them and himself this was Marcel's fault, Mikael's fault for hurting him so bad, Elijah's fault for leaving and not looking out for him, Rebekah's for falling in love with Marcel and picking his side. He bargained, telling himself he would make it better, he would come out and take his city back.
Depression. At some point the darkness around him seemed to mirror the quietness inside him. The voices in his head, his mistakes, the ghosts from his past, they all seemed to leave him alone, which only made it worse. He was complete and utterly alone.
And finally acceptance. He lost his city, his home. He couldn't move, he couldn't get out. He only had himself and his thoughts for the rest of his time there.
Between all the pain, loneliness, anger, there was only one thought that offered him comfort.
It's been weeks since he was trapped inside the hard coffin. He thought he would go insane, he didn't know what day it was, if the sun was up or it was dark outside, he didn't know when it was the last time he fed and he could feel the hunger burning his throat, making his skin dry. He didn't need a mirror to know he looked like a corpse. But as he laid there his mind showed again and again everything he could have done different, the moments he had been wrong, when he had been betrayed. He stopped at one specific memory.
The baby vampire with golden hair that managed to tame him, at least for a while. He felt his anger creeping in once again. He was angry at himself for hurting her, and at the same time for not hurting her enough. She betrayed him and used him, but he couldn't bring himself to punish her for her actions. He never took her body because he wanted her willing. He should have whisked her away. He should have stayed with her. At that point he didn't know what he should have done. All he knew was this: When he thought of her, his pain seemed to decrease, he distracted himself.
At first it was just the memory of her dancing with him at his family's ball, then talking to her outside and then at his studio. He moved to his next memory of them, talking on the bench outside the Grill. And so on. But as he ran out of memories, he started to create new ones. Small fantasies, new scenarios, or changes on his memories, wondering how different things would be now if he had acted different with her back then.
Love is a vampire's greatest weakness.
He told himself that many times. But how could he be defeated and still not feel love for anyone? He blamed the loneliness, telling himself he was going insane for letting himself daydream like that. But since it looked like he would be there for a while, he could use a distraction.
She would lean on the rail at the balcony, wearing nothing but one of my shirts. She would look at the Eiffel Towel and sigh happily. My eyes would travel down her legs, not caring about the city laying in front of us. Nothing would ever be beautiful enough to make me tear my eyes away from her. She would say something like "You're staring." without even turning to look at me, and I wouldn't deny it, I wouldn't have to, because she would be comfortable with it.
She wouldn't be scared or surprised when I wrap my arms around her waist from behind. Instead she would lean back on my chest and smile.
"I love you, Klaus." She would say softly as she turned her head to look at me. And I would...
She wouldn't say that.
But I don't need her to say it. I just want to be there with her.
"This isn't real." I heard myself say. "I know." She replies with her angelic voice. "You're avoiding the pain."
Caroline couldn't tell what was more confusing. The fact that she dreamed about Klaus, the fact that she was happy, seeing those beautiful places with him, the fact that she was sad when she woke up, even knowing that dreaming about him was wrong, or the fact that she had this feeling in her gut, telling her something was off.
Paris was beautiful. She didn't understand how she could walk the streets -hand in hand with Klaus- since she had never been there. She had a great imagination, but this was too much!
He would never take her to New Orleans. It's like he was keeping her away from them. It was stupid, waking up from a dream and feel like their talks were real. She was stupid for waking up upset whenever he told her to stay away from New Orleans.
Stupid Klaus and his stupidly handsome face -that haunts my dreams, mind you-
But as the time passed, the dreams got more intense, more real and more.. mature?... But the happiness in their brief moment's together seemed to fade faster each time. Like Klaus had a secret that haunted him and made her look at her in this way, a way that made Caroline's hear ache. There was something in the way he looked at her. Regret, fear, love.
"Tell me what you're thinking." I asked him once, my head on his chest while we laid naked on a silk sheets, somewhere in Amsterdam. Klaus' hand draw little patterns on my arm and shoulder until he suddenly stopped.
"I'm thinking how I wish this was real."
And the moment I woke up alone in my bed, I wished it was real too.