Cascading Effect @wingedladycolette

Author's Note: Another chapter! Thank you all for your support! I really do love hearing what you have to say! It inspires me to continue on! This couple needs more love! Also, sorry that the story is so slow, I don't know why it feels like it's dragging on forever but I promise it's going to get better soon! X.x Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Lilah watches as a slew of emotions crosses over Niklaus's face. He gently touches his necklace in thought before looking over at the long blond-haired girl. He hesitates for a moment, wondering how to say this. The war between wanting to keep an iron-clad grip on whatever pieces of his pride he can scrape together or just admit to whatever it was that he was thinking the answer might be is displayed across his expression.

He decides on the latter of the two and quietly admits, "I don't know why." He twirls his necklace a bit more, running his fingers across the silver starling, memorizing the shape and design with just his fingertips. "I suspect that it is simply because I am not as strong or as skilled as Elijah or Finn. My father... our family are Vikings, and the men of our family are strong."

Lilah tilts her head to the side, stepping closer to him. "You are strong, Niklaus. You are very strong. Who said that you weren't?"

Niklaus gives her a look. "My father." He sighs. "He seems to believe that I am far less worthy than worms in the earth or ants in their hill. I am just a disappointment to him and he never passes up a chance to make me aware of that fact." He shakes his head, shame, and humiliation washing over his face. He hates having to admit that his father doesn't like him as much as his brothers.

It is a powerful source of shame for him. Lilah's heart bleeds for him.

Lilah frowns, wishing that there was something that she could do that would make him feel better. She reaches up to caress his face lovingly. "Your father just doesn't see you, Niklaus, for what you are. You are strong and brave, and smart too. You have so many skills that your father refuses to offer the admiration that it deserves, like your art. I've seen you mixing berries. I've seen the little splotches of color. They are beautiful and you are gifted."

Niklaus looks down at the flowers, cheeks darkening. His eyes find the beautiful flowers in the field and admire them quietly as he thinks about her words. Lilah had to wonder if even nature's beautiful colors could be mimicked by the artful hands of the man before her. She studies his face, watching as the shame and pain melts into embarrassment and bashfulness.

Lilah reaches up and cups both of Niklaus's thin cheeks. His face wasn't like hers. His face was thin with high, protruding cheekbones while hers was soft and round and full. She runs her thumbs across those beautiful cheekbones while staring up into his eyes.

"Listen to me, Niklaus. You are powerful. You are strong. You are mighty. Others do not define your strength or your worth. Not you father. Not my father. Not anyone. Only those with your permission have the ability to help you do that. But only with your permission. Otherwise, you are the lord of your own destiny." She holds his head tightly to ensure his eyes stay on her.

He stares back at her, blue eyes so wide, she can see the green in the center of his irises hold just a touch of yellow too. "Why is it that you seem to be able to see right through me?" He looks mesmerized.

Lilah smiles, tenderly, running her fingers across his cheeks. "Because my heart is yours, and yours is mine."

Caroline remembers about two minutes into the ride that she is absolutely covered in blood, the blood of the guy she splattered across the pavement and probably some of her own. She watches the road sail past as Klaus drives down the darkened path, perhaps faster than he should, yet he doesn't seem bothered. She blinks a few times, finally starting to come back into herself. Her mind is racing, trying to recall what happened leading up to when she was attacked.


"Klaus..?" Caroline rasps into the quiet darkness of the car.

"Yes, love?" He asks, just as quietly.

"Did someone attack me..?" She looks over at his profile as they pass by a streetlight and it illuminates the inside of the car for a moment. "Why..? Why would someone do that to me? Because I hit that man? Where is his body? What happened?"

Klaus doesn't respond right away. She watches in the passing light as his fingers of his left-hand tap against the steering wheel as if lost in thought. Caroline appreciates the amount of time he considers that question, but the silence physically hurts her. She pulls her eyes to the side of his head when he doesn't answer after what feels like an eternity.

"Klaus..?" Caroline whispers softly.

"I don't know, love. I don't know who you hit, let alone why anyone would want to attack you, but I promise you this," he looks over at her as a dark shadow crosses over his face, "you are safe with us. No one will harm you so long as I'm here. I will keep you safe."

Caroline stares at him, a tug at her heart. No one has ever said something like that to her before. It seems like something straight out of her favorite romance movies and she loves it. "Really? Why would you do something like that for me?"

Klaus pulls up to a stop sign and stopped. He keeps his foot on the break and turns to look at Caroline. The moonlight casts a shadow across his face that highlights his high cheekbones and the light bounces off his eyes making it almost seem like they are glowing, if only faintly. Surely Caroline is just imagining it, but she somehow finds a bit of comfort in it. Which is so weird now that she's thinking about it.

"In due time, darling," Klaus says, his long lashes casting even longer shadows across his cheeks. "For now, let's get you home safe, shall we?" His smile is chilled in the darkness. His eyes somehow find hers in the darkness. "We'll be there soon." He turns back to the road and keeps going.

After a few minutes of silence, Caroline finally says softly, "Thank you for helping me, Klaus. You and Elijah and Rebekah... thank you." She looks down at her bloody hands, somehow able to disassociate the blood on it for fake blood or for paint that dyed her fingers and palms.

"Anything for you, love," he says softly, watching the road without expression.

Caroline feels like she fell asleep, even though her eyes stayed open the entire way to the Mikaelson home she doesn't even remember where she was. Or how she got there. In Klaus's car, obviously, but she's not sure where in town she is, but she doesn't blink until she feels Klaus's hands wrapping around her wrists and pulling her out of the car. She's still stuck in this daze as he leads her into his home up the elegant staircase and into a bedroom.

Caroline barely notices the soft touches of a feminine personality in the room before he leads into a huge bathroom and drops her down at a chair in front of the vanity. He walks over and turns on the huge marble shower, measuring the water until it's warm before turning to look over at her.

"Shower, wash off the night. You're in Rebekah's room. She should be here soon. She'll bring you some clothes to change into," he says before walking out of the room and shutting the double doors that separate the bathroom and the bedroom. Caroline sits there, listening to the shower run for a few minutes before finally pulling enough back into herself to kick off her shoes, peel off her sweaty, blood-stained clothes before stopping and turning her gaze toward the huge wall of mirrors adjacent to the shower and jetted tub.

Tears swell up in her eyes as she stares at the haunted, bloody, bruised figure staring back at her. Her pale skin was stained with blood on her hands, neck, back, legs, and feet. There is bruising on her face and cement burns from sliding her face across the asphalt when she was knocked out. Her face looks ashed and bloodied and even though there was steam starting to build upon the mirrors, the cold floors were seeping into her skin, giving her goosebumps.

She doesn't recognize the stranger staring back at her. But she knows that it is supposed to be herself staring back and the fact that this bloodied, weak person was all she could see, her heart was broken. She has no idea how all of this happened but she felt sick to her stomach and upset. She was running a little behind while on her way home from her errands, and some guy stepped out into the middle of the road. She hit him and tried to call the police, but her phone died, and then someone came and knocked her out and took him away?

Why? What happened? Who would do that? And why would they have needed to knock her out? She didn't mean to hit him, it was an accident. She would have done what she could to help him. She guesses it doesn't matter much now. It doesn't mean that she doesn't feel horrible. She has to try and find that guy. At the very least, she can apologize for what she did and hope that he's alright.

Finally, Caroline drags herself into the shower, stepping under the spray, turning her head down to watch as the water slowly becomes redder and redder as she washes the blood caked in her hair and on her skin. As more blood washes across the stone floor, her mind chooses that moment to remind her that not all of that blood was hers.

Then, as if possessed, she scrubs away at her skin and hair with her hands, trying to get all of the blood off of her. She scrubs at a particularly sensitive part of her scalp, no doubt where she was hit and sees hot, fresh blood drop into the water swirling down into the drain. She's more careful around that spot, hoping that it will clot over again before long.

Caroline lowers herself into the fetal position, her body aching. Partly from the hit to her head, partly from the way she was laying for so long and partly because of how bad she's been sleeping the last few days has finally caught up with her. She decides not to use shampoo on her head today. She'll shower again tomorrow and wash her head then. She doesn't want to get all those chemicals in the wound. She's not smart enough to know if it was safe or not, so best to just wait. She just has no idea what's safe and what isn't. Tomorrow, she decides, she'll do it tomorrow.

Honestly, curled under the spray with the water running down her back and arms with her face in her knees, Caroling felt herself drift off to sleep. She heard Rebekah come in to drop off some clothes and check on her, but Caroline was fine, laying under the spray, hoping against hope that the hot water would somehow be able to wash away the pain and the worry of the night. What could have happened? Where could that guy have gone? Who attacked her? Why did they attack her? What did they do with that guy afterward?

She just didn't know.

Caroline must have dozed off, because, at some point, Caroline heard the water turn off and feel a large, fluffy pink towel wrap around her. She lifts her head, regretting it immediately from the headache and from the weird way she was resting her neck for who knows how long to see Rebekah helping wrap the towel around herself.

"The water is cold, you'll get sick," Rebekah says, helping her stand up slowly. "I brought you some clothes. Change into them and we'll get some rest. You'll stay in my room with me tonight."

Caroline nods slowly, loosely wrapping the towel around herself as Rebekah leads her over to the clothes laying on the same chair she occupied before she went into the shower before leaving the room and closing the doors once more. The blond doesn't see her bloody attire from earlier that night anywhere. Wisely it seems that someone took those clothes away before she could see them again. It was probably for the best.

Caroline stares down at the clothes that Rebekah brought in for her for a moment before drying off her hair and pulling on the shorts and large long sleeve henley shirt. It's large enough and hides her figure. The material is slightly thicker which is nice seeing as her exhausted, frightened mind is using the shirt like a shield.

Unless Caroline has the wrong impression of Rebekah, this was a man's shirt. And now that she's thinking about it, this doesn't look like something that Rebekah would wear.

Caroline steps out of the bathroom, turning off the light and stepping into the bedroom to see Rebekah throwing her clothes into the dirty clothes basket. Rebekah turns to look at her in long fluffy yellow sleep pants and a white tank top, taking in the pink shorts with the long, gray henley shirt that Caroline has to push up her arms to keep them from covering her fingers. She meets Rebekah's gaze with a little weak smile. The mansion is cold, or at least Rebekah's room is, and it makes her skin grow goosebumps.


Rebekah nods a bit. "Looks good. Sorry I couldn't loan you anything other than shorts. I am lacking a bit in the clothing department as of the moment. Most of my clothes are either... out of date or lost in transit." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Good thing Nik has about a million of those shirts that he can loan out. And don't worry about giving it back. He won't even notice that it's missing." She waves one of her hands around a bit before crossing them again. "Let's get some rest. You've had a long day."

"My head is bleeding. Or it was," Caroline says softly, touching the crown of her head for the tender spot but blood loss and that long, hot shower has left her exhausted and light-headed. "I don't want to bleed all over your pillows."

Rebekah shakes her head. "I'm not worried." She considers something before shrugging her shoulders. "Let me see if there is something here that we can use to wrap your head up with."

Caroline sits down on the bed, sinking into it lovingly and she lets out a sigh of relief. She wants to curl up into this bed and sleep for about a hundred years and pretend like the last few hours didn't happen. She knew that wasn't possible. But she could hope, couldn't she?

Rebekah returns a few minutes later, gauze in hand. "I can't honestly believe we have this," Rebekah says. Caroline gives her a weird look which she waves off. Rebekah climbs up onto the bed and gently looking through her hair until she finds whatever she's looking for before positioning the bandage and wrapping it around Caroline's head carefully. She sits there patiently as Rebekah cares for the wound on her head.

"What do you remember about that man you hit tonight?" Rebekah asks softly. "Do you have any idea who he was?"

"No..." Caroline rasps. "He was talking nonsense too. I guess that's what happens when someone mows you down with their car."

Rebekah clicks her tongue. "Don't say that. He walked out in front of your car. It was an accident."

"I have this nagging feeling..." Caroline says softly. "Beneath the blood and the bruising, I can't help but feel like I've seen him before. With all the questions about tonight, I'm not able to shake the feeling that I've seen him before. Which is almost worse than him being a completely unknown person. I can't even offer him the common courtesy to remember where I've seen him before. He's dead, he's got to be, and I can't even remember where I've seen him before."

She runs her hands up and down her bare legs, hoping the chill of the house would go away. She figured with how big it seemed like this house was that they would be able to afford to heat the place. Then again, maybe that is too much to ask.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Rebekah says flippantly. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?" Caroline echoes, eyebrows pulled together tightly. She stands up, finding energy in her anger, and turns to the other blond. "How can you say that, Rebekah? We are talking about me killing someone! I splattered someone across the pavement! I killed a man! How can you be so nonchalant about that?" She can hear her voice rising with each word she said. Rebekah just sits back on her legs, listening to the other girl yell at her. "And I can't even give the guy the common courtesy of remembering where I saw his freaking face! Sure, he didn't have the most spectacular or noteworthy features but the least I could do was - " She stops, mouth hanging open.

Rebekah blinks a few times. "What?"

Caroline's eyes drop to the lush, fluffy carpet under the bed for a break in the hardwood of the house. Caroline's mind is racing, desperately trying to connect the realization with a memory. Then it comes to her. Hitting her hard like a ton of bricks.

She spins around toward the door and heads for it. As soon as she breaks past the threshold into the hall she yells out, "Klaus? Elijah?" She starts heading down the hall as Rebekah calls out her name in confusion. "Klaus? Elijah?" Caroline calls again. "Marco! Marco! This house is huge, you guys, throw me a bone here!" She finds the stairs and practically tumbles down them as the two brothers in question walk into the foyer from one of the side rooms.

"Caroline?" Elijah says, bringing up the rear. "What's wrong?"

"You should be in bed," Klaus says, stopping at the edge of the stairs.

"I remembered him," Caroline says, stopping on the last step, now eye-to-eye with the middle Mikaelson sibling. "That man from the photo that Elijah showed me the other day. That's him. He's your friend, isn't he? Oh, Klaus, I am so so sorry. I killed him. I killed your friend!" She reaches out and cups his face, feeling shame and horror washing over her. "I am so sorry! I don't know what happened. One minute I was alone on that street and next he was there and... and..."

Klaus's eyebrows fall flat and his lips press together tightly as he lets out a slow sigh, blinking a few times. He reaches up, grabbing onto her wrists slowly. "Are you certain, Caroline? You've had a long day. Think clearly."

"He said his name was Charlie," Caroline says softly. She blinks some tears away, searching his face. She's not sure if she's hoping that they were talking about the same person or not. "Is that your friend's name? Charlie?"

Klaus sighs, closing his eyes tightly as anger plays across his features, making Caroline feel even worse than before. Okay, she's decided. She wished she had no idea who he was. He pulls himself away from her and turns around, walking back toward the room that he came out of, leaving Caroline standing there with her hands floating where Klaus's face used to be, shame-filled tears sliding down her cheeks.

Caroline lowers her hands slowly, blinking a few times when Elijah steps up in front of her with his hand out for her to take. She tilts her head to the side a bit, surprised to see him there. "Elijah?"

"Come," he says, taking her hand. "Let us talk. What did Charles say?" He leads her into the room behind Klaus. There are two couches across from one another, a coffee table, a fireplace, a wine bar and a couple of bookcases around the room. He lowers her down to one of the couches and steps away to grab her some hard liquor. She watches as Klaus pours himself a second glass since she walked into the room and downed it, looking aggravated.

"He..." Caroline says, looking down at her own glass cradled between her two hands. She takes a sip and it burns her throat but the tingle makes her feel better. At least a little bit. Taking the edge off. "He wasn't making any sense," Caroline says. "He was hurt really bad, Elijah, he wasn't thinking straight."

Elijah sits down next to her. "I know that this is hard, Caroline, but please think closely. What did he say?"

Caroline sips a bit at her drink, feeling the alcohol burn her throat before lowering the glass onto the table. "I don't know. He was talking about a dog."

"Dog?" Rebekah echoes, standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. "Why would Nik's friend be talking about a dog? What odd last words."

Elijah stares at his sister for a moment, considering carefully, before looking back over at Caroline. "What did he say? Try and remember, Caroline. What about this dog?"

Caroline rubs at her forehead. "He called it a hybrid." That draws Klaus's attention. He turns around slowly, eyebrows pulled together tightly.

"What about the hybrid?"

Caroline shrugs. "He moved on. He was talking nonsense. He said something about witches preventing the lifting of some curse. Something about a stone with a lock on it." She rubs at her forehead. "I don't know why he would talk about a dog and witches and curses. It's like a twisted fairytale."

"I'm sorry," Rebekah cuts in when Elijah opens his mouth to say something, "but what part of that was about a dog?"

"Isn't that what a hybrid is?" Caroline asks, looking over at the other blond. "A dog of two different breeds?"

Rebekah stares back at her with her eyebrows pulled together. She blinks a few times before looking around the room for a moment, then it comes to her and she looks back over at Caroline. "Are you talking about a mutt?"

Caroline stares back at her. "Wait, then what is a hybrid?"

"It's similar," Rebekah says. "But a hybrid is two separate species, not just different breeds."

Caroline's eyebrows pull together as her fuzzy brain puts the pieces together. Caroline rubs at her forehead, groaning. "I'm such an idiot."

Klaus sits down on the coffee table, moving her glass out of the way so that he doesn't knock it over. Caroline looks at him as he leans his elbows on his knees to stare back at her. "I am so sorry, Klaus. I'm so sorry that I probably killed your friend..." Caroline says softly, shame washing over her again. There is no way to make up for ending someone's life.

Klaus takes her hands slowly, looking into her eyes. "Tell me, love. Tell me exactly what he said about the curse. About the witches."

Caroline looks down at their hands wrapped around each other, before closing her eyes and trying to recall the sputtered nonsense from the dying man in front of her just hours before. "He said something about the hybrid having to know something about the witches preventing the lifting of a curse. Something about a stone. A moonstone, or something. And something about blood being the key for a change. I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. It doesn't make sense to me."

"Wait," Rebekah says, twisting her head to the side. "Is this about the sun and moon curse? You're still looking for that dumb stone? Are you serious?"

Caroline looks between them, confused as Klaus with an annoyed look on his face and says, "Obviously it was all for not if it sounds like the moonstone is here." He looks back over at Caroline, pulling one of his hands away from hers and touches the mark on her cheek slowly. She recoils a bit in pain, hissing. "Was that all that he said?"

Caroline blinks a few times. "Yes..."

He stares into her eyes. "Are you certain that's everything that he said?"

Caroline nods. "Yeah."

He takes a moment, looking down at her skinned knees, turning her hand over to see the scuff on her palm, then to the henley shirt, as if seeing it for the first time. He blinks a few times, leaning back a bit. "Is that mine?"

Caroline looks down at it before nodding. "Yeah, Rebekah said you wouldn't mind."

Klaus stares back at her with a look in his eyes that she doesn't understand. "Are you in pain, Caroline? Do your wounds hurt you?"

Keenly aware of the aches and pains across her body, Caroline shrugs a little bit. "I guess."

"Do you want me to take away your pain?"

"Niklaus," Elijah says, a hint of warning in his voice.

Caroline's eyebrows pull together again. "What are you going to do?"

Suddenly, a chilling smile crosses over Klaus's face. She tilts her head a bit as his smile fades and the veins around his eyes push out against his skin, blackened and pulsating toward his eyes. She watches in horror as the sclera darkness until they are pitch black and the blue of his irises seem to glow brightly.

Caroline couldn't breathe. In that moment, that mysterious, dangerous feeling she had from him earlier suddenly makes sense. There is definitely something to fear from him. She feels herself shrink into the couch, the scream that wanted to rip from her was trapped by the squeezing of her throat. Her lips part to no sound as her eyes widens to the size of dinner plates, unable to believe what she is seeing.

"Nik," Rebekah says, not an ounce of fear in her voice, "don't do this. Please."

Klaus doesn't respond, staring intently into Caroline's eyes. "Are you afraid, Caroline?"

She couldn't lie, her frightened brain doesn't remember how. So she nods slowly, the action somehow helping her settle down. He still sounds like Klaus despite the eerie, unnatural glow of his blue eyes and the blackened veins leading to the darkened sclera.

Beneath the fear clenching at her heart, Caroline feels pity. She feels pity and shame because, in his eyes, she sees a sad man. She sees a tortured man with a long, sad life. She can see the pain in his eyes that reflects years of weight and thought and wear. Whatever saddens him now isn't something new. It's something he's carried with him for a long time. He wants her to be afraid because he knows how to deal with that feeling. He knows how to deal with it in himself, and in others.

Eyes like that are obviously not normal. Caroline doesn't know what's going on, but with eyes like that - and his canines seemed extended when he spoke, two sets of them - that it wasn't natural.

But something, deep in her heart, told her that he wasn't going to hurt her. Maybe it was because Caroline inherently always tried to find a silver lining in all that she did, but there was something about the way he was staring at her now that gave her the impression that he wasn't going to hurt her. That him scaring her was to serve another purpose. Not because she killed his friend, or because for some unexplainable other reason.

It's almost like he wants to remind himself that he shouldn't get what he wants. He wants something so bad but feels like he doesn't deserve it. He feels that he has to chase away his chance for whatever it was that he wanted, for no other reason than perhaps the pain he feels in his heart, or because long ago someone made him believe that he would never deserve anything that he wanted.

And Caroline feels bad for him. Yes, she is afraid, but she isn't without sympathy and Klaus Mikaelson and his siblings have been nothing but kind to her since the moment she met them. The least she could do was be kind back.

Slowly, carefully and before she could regret it, Caroline reaches out lightly to touch Klaus's face, the tips of her pointer and middle fingers touching the lightly pulsating veins on his cheek. The feeling is kind of gross, like skinny worms beneath the skin, but she forces it away. The shock and confusion written across his face reminds her of why she's doing this. She finds strength in the touch of vulnerability in those crazy blue eyes.

"I am scared," Caroline admits, "but I'm not without understanding. Or, sufficed to say, I want to understand. Well, try to understand, I mean."

Full red lips part as it seems like he's seeing her for the first time. "Why?" He whispers. "Aren't I a monster to you?"

Caroline swallows shamed that the first thought she had when she saw his eyes change is being thrown back at her. Her own kneejerk reaction haunts her. And hurts her. "No," she says firmly. "Monsters don't care if they're monsters. You're just different. That doesn't make you a monster." Her voice is strong, and even, but she can feel a small tremble of fear wash over her as she simply doesn't know. Their relationship is too new for her to know. At least for certain. But somehow, she feels like she knows that it's okay. That they are okay.

Needless to say, if the siblings aren't freaking out, then they must also be the same as him. Or at least aware of what he is.

"I don't understand," Caroline admits, "and not understanding makes it scary. But if you are willing to tell me, maybe it won't be as scary anymore."

Klaus leans into her touch, closing his eyes as the veins keep pulsing. "Or," he draws out in a low whisper, "the truth will make the situation even scarier." He sighs, defeated. "You are so similar. So kind. So sweet. So gentle and open-minded. A true, beautiful sun, radiating brightly." He opens those crazy eyes, leaning in a bit more to her hand and saying, softly, "I am not afraid to admit, before my brother and sister, that even now, after all this time my heart is still yours. Always and forever."

"Nik," Rebekah says softly.

Before Caroline can even process his words he opens his mouth, showing two sets of distended fangs and bites onto his own wrist, ripping into it. He reaches to the back of her head with one hand while shoving his bleeding wrist into her mouth. The taste of blood stings her tongue before her brain tells her it's a good taste. Like chocolate. Or pretzels. It was a good taste that she liked. Once her brain shut down the part that freaked out and told her it was fine, he pulled his wrist away leaving her dazed with a short-circuiting sound in her ears.

Her hands were gripping his wrists as he now cradles her face, wiping slowly along her lips, staring into her eyes. Her eyes lock with his as she opens her bloodied mouth to ask him what the hell that was all about before something in his gaze stopped her. The veins sunk beneath his skin as the blackness in his sclera whitened up to normal.

"You will forget tonight as it was," Klaus says, pupils dancing in his eyes. "You will forget our conversation. You will forget the car accident. You will forget Charles. You did some shopping and came over to watch a bunch of movies with Rebekah. You had so much fun you lost track of time. You remember the phone call with your mother and when it was over, we gave you a little drink to help settle your nerves about seeing your mother tomorrow. You will forget about my transformation or what was said. You just relayed the conversation and we told you it would be fine. You're tired now and ready for bed."

As he was speaking Caroline's mind desperately tried to hold onto the memories of the night before they washed through her fingers like water and before she knew it, she wasn't even sure what she was holding on to other than his words. It all made perfect sense and in the place of what became black space in her mind, was filled with what he said until she couldn't remember that something else should have been there.

Caroline blinks a few times as Klaus leans back onto the coffee table, dropping his hands between his knees as he stares at her with sad, vacant eyes. A yawn washes over her as she stretches her arms over her head. "Man, I am so tired. Thanks for making me feel better about my mom, guys. I know she's going to be so mad at me tomorrow but I'll deal with that then." She looks over at the oldest brother frowning sadly at her, eyebrows pulled together tightly. "Goodnight, Elijah. And thank you."

Elijah smiles thinly, dark eyes sad. "Goodnight, Caroline. And don't thank me."

Caroline touches his shoulder before looking over at Klaus. "Goodnight, Klaus. And thank you."

His smile is as thin as Elijah's and his eyes are brimming with sadness. "Anything for you, Caroline."

Caroline smiles back at him, patting his leg before standing up and looking over at Rebekah, whose pretty blue eyes were burrowing holes into the side of Klaus's face as she shakes her head. "I can't believe you."

"Are you ready for bed, Rebekah?" Caroline asks. "I'm beat."

Rebekah looks over at her, pushing off the doorway and uncrossing her arms. "Yes, I'm ready, Caroline. Let's get out of here." She sends her brothers a look that Caroline doesn't know how to interoperate before waving her hand for the younger of the two to follow after.

Caroline makes it as far as the doorway that Rebekah's in before turning around. "Oh, and maybe you guys should throw out whatever is in that cup," she nods toward her glass on the table. At their inquisitive looks, she elaborates, "It's got a strange, irony aftertaste to it." She makes a face before turning to leave and waving her hand. "Goodnight!"

She races after Rebekah up the stairs toward the Mikaelson sister's room, exhausted and ready for bed. Who would have thought watching so many movies would be so exhausting? She crawls into Rebekah's huge king sized bed and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

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