It wasn't the taste that set her stomach in motion, not in the slightest. The mere idea that she had just consumed blood made Caroline's throat constrict, and she could have sworn the room was moving. Extremely aware of being the focal point of attention, she stood, weakly asking, "Where's a bathroom?"

"Third door on the right," Elijah answered disinterestedly. Absently, Caroline wondered what his problem was. Kol and Rebekah seemed more than eager to stare her down, probably mentally critiquing her every move. But Elijah seemed like he was in another world entirely.

"Thanks," She responded, and before Klaus could make the move to follow her, she was out in the hall and on a mission to hold the bile rising in her throat long enough to get to a trash can, or sink, or anywhere that wasn't the floor.

Caroline didn't even spare a moment to look around the bathroom after she crashed through the door, heading straight for the toilet. She collapsed to her knees. The moment she had secured her hair to keep it out of the way, all of the contents of her stomach came back up. And when there was nothing left for her to vomit, she sat there, dry heaving for what seemed like an eternity before finally catching her breath.

With wobbly knees, Caroline forced herself to her feet, and she flushed the evidence of nausea down the drain with her eyes closed. She knew if she looked, she would be down on her knees again. Instead, she turned to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The soap she used to wash her hands smelled cloyingly sweet. It made her sick all over again, but she forced herself to push the feeling down and dry off her hands. She gravitated straight towards the towel embroidered with the initials K.M., assuming it to belong to Klaus. It made her feel a little empowered to be wiping her hands off on his towel, and really, what kind of pretentious asshole got his initials sewed into his towel? But then she remembered that there was a chance his naked body had been wrapped in that towel, and Caroline made herself step back out into the hall before thoughts of hand soap, blood, and a nude Klaus overwhelmed her.

Caroline had almost been expecting for Klaus to be waiting for her in the hall, but when she found that he was nowhere to be seen, she felt a mix of relief, and something else. Something that felt a lot like disappointment. But it had to be the stress talking. She wasn't disappointed at all, she told herself. She was glad to have a moment alone. She knew it wouldn't last for long, though, and dread filled her as she started back towards the dining room from which she came. And then she stopped in her tracks, because she had an idea.

There had to be a way out somewhere.

She couldn't find any windows, and she had no idea how many floors the mansion had and which one she might be on. But Caroline figured that if she just kept moving forward, she would find it eventually.

The prospect of escape instantly lightened her mood, and she didn't feel quite so sick anymore. She was on the move, walking fast, and listening carefully for approaching footsteps. It stood to reason that any minute now Klaus would wonder what was taking her so long and come to check on her. So Caroline had to put as much distance between him and her as possible.

Each corridor seemed longer than the last, and where windows should've been, hung paintings. All signed with the same signature. She tried to keep track of which ones she had already seen, hoping she wasn't going in circles, but the more she saw, the harder it was to remember.

And then, finally, she found a staircase. And somewhere at the bottom, Caroline could swear she saw light. Not artificial light, or candlelight, but real, honest-to-god natural light. Every nerve screamed at her to run; she was so desperate to get out. But the last thing she needed was to be caught, and she was disciplined enough to tiptoe down the stairs.

It would be dark soon. It wouldn't be her ideal escape, but it would have to do. She could've cried when she opened the door, and smelled fresh air for the first time in what felt like ages. She could hear grasshoppers chirping, cicadas buzzing, and birds singing. After closing the door behind her as carefully and quietly as she could, Caroline started to run.

The perimeter wasn't secured very well, from what she could tell. There was a low fence, which she scaled easily thanks to the framework that almost seemed meant to accommodate climbing. There was an expanse of woods, and Caroline was positive that somewhere, somehow she would find a road. Although her mother wouldn't approve, from there she could hitchhike back home and leave these awful, deranged people behind as a bad memory.

The wind was in her hair, and Caroline wanted to sing with the birds, because she would be as free as them soon enough. She took her shoes off without stopping. She was sure she had never run so fast in her life, and it was incredibly liberating.

The sky was rapidly darkening, but she didn't allow it to discourage her. Caroline could swear she could see better, and hear better, too. It was amazing what adrenaline could do for you. It had been months since she had felt so alive, so strong, so powerful.

Hell, she could even smell better. She reveled in the smell of the pine trees, and uncut grass, and even the blood.

No, no, that wasn't right. Against her better judgment, she stopped. Why did she smell blood? It had to be an animal. Nature was cruel; it happened all the time. Maybe a bird had fallen from the nest and hurt its wing. Or a fox had caught a rabbit, and she was just nearby. It was merely a coincidence, and she wouldn't allow it to deter her.

She started running again.

But the smell of blood got stronger, suffocating her. She imagined it on her lips, sliding down her throat, inside of her and invigorating her. She wanted it.

God, she was just going to make herself sick again.

Caroline didn't know how she knew, but it was behind her, which didn't explain why it became stronger and stronger the farther she ran. But she had to keep going, no matter what.

And then, finally, she found the road. It smelled like gasoline and greasy fries, and she never imagined how happy she would be about that. It meant civilization. Which meant people, who had cell phones and maybe there would be somebody who wouldn't mind giving her a ride home.

She was so close, and the happiness swelled in her chest, and he pushed it out when he hit her.

They fell to the ground, and he had his hand clapped over her mouth before she could scream. Caroline bit down as hard as she could, but to no avail. Her captor didn't budge.

She had tasted freedom for a second, and now she was going to be a girl in a creek in the woods who might make it on Dateline if she was lucky. She thought of Klaus, and how maybe she should have tried bargaining with him instead of hatching up an impulsive and stupid escape plan. Girls died in the woods all the time. And maybe he would find her body, and someone would mourn her, even if it was only because their new toy was broken.

The person's other hand went to her throat, squeezing just a little, and Caroline waited to feel the burning in her lungs that meant her airway was constricted.

It never came.

"Do I have to compel you not to scream, or are you going to come quietly?"

Oh, god. It was Klaus. Caroline panicked, and she became hyperaware of the way his leg was slung over her hip, and his groin was pressing into her back, and how his stubble tickled the nape of her neck. Somewhere, she heard a giggle, and it dawned on her that her subconscious was delusional enough to find their precarious position kind of funny.

If he had heard, he didn't let on. He rolled her on to her stomach and she heard the crunching of leaves as he stood. She turned to face him. It was dark, but his eyes glowed nonetheless, a rich shade of gold that should've terrified her. Fresh blood rolled down his chin, and his dress shirt was spotted with little crimson blotches. He bent down, grabbing her by the waist, and then she was roughly hoisted so that he had her over his shoulder. Klaus supported her with a hand on her lower back that kept her from falling. He started walking back in the direction from which she ran, and despite her dread, she knew that her screams would fall on deaf ears. So she held on tightly, gripping hard when she tried to think of anything else but how she wanted to lick the blood from his lips, and that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if his hand came down a little lower.

It was a long walk back to the mansion, and Caroline was a tad proud of herself for coming so far without getting caught. She ignored the sneaking suspicion that maybe it wasn't so much that she had managed to evade him on her own, and more that he let her think she had a chance. They walked most of the way in silence, but even in the quiet, Caroline could feel his fury as if there were an entirely other person walking with them.

"I can walk," She informed him in a soft, cautious voice, afraid that she might provoke him a little too much and this time, when he grabbed her throat, he wouldn't let go.

"I'm sure you can," He bit out. It was obvious by his tone that he was not compromising on this. If someone were to appear at that very moment and inform him that if he didn't put her down, the world would cease to exist, he would probably just keep walking.

After a while, there were no more trees, and no leaves underneath his feet for Klaus to crunch on. They were on a well-manicured lawn, and finally, he set her down and took her by the arm instead. His grip was crushing, and his nails were sharp, but she could see his eyes better now. It hadn't been just a trick of the light, as she had tried to convince herself. They glowed, molten gold against otherwise blackened eyes. There wasn't an inkling of white to be seen. Black veins branched out from around his eyes, and when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, Caroline could swear there were fangs. He looked like a monster, but instead of being startled, she felt the urge to touch him. She wanted to feel how sharp his teeth were; she wanted to know if the veins around his eyes were bumpy or smooth. She looked away before she did something she would truly regret, and instead focused on the outside of the mansion. She hadn't seen it before, but it breathtaking. It was well-cared for, with not a chip of its off-white paint out of place, and she was certain with the grandeur of it that there had to be at least four floors. There were actual columns that supported that roof as a sort of awning over a wrap-around porch, and she heard water burbling off to the side—a fountain. Well-trimmed hedges lined the walls, and marble steps led up to a set of magnificent beveled double doors crafted from a dark wood with golden knobs and gleaming golden knockers in the shape of an M.

She didn't have long to admire it, though, because the moment Klaus had the doors opened, he shoved her inside. Caroline would've lost her balance, but then he was holding her so roughly by the arm that she thought she might cry. As he dragged her up the stairs behind him, she caught sight of Kol, gazing on at her with pity in his eyes. She didn't want his pity.

She stumbled along after Klaus up another set of stairs, and then another, and finally, another. She was correct in her assumption that there were four floors, unless, of course, there was an attic or a basement. Caroline had only remembered taking one long staircase down to the ground, but she suspected it wasn't the time to strike up a chat about floor plans.

They came to his bedroom, and he practically threw her inside. He locked the door behind him, and then they were truly alone, and Caroline felt fear sink in.

"On the bed," He commanded, and she did as she was told. Was he going to force himself on her? She had to think quickly; she had to think of a way out. There was nothing in reach that she could use as a weapon. And she had a feeling that it would take more than bludgeoning him with a pillow to put Klaus down.

"Give me one good reason not to rip your heart out right now."

Rip her heart out? Was that even possible?

"What are you?" It was at the forefront of her mind, and she could contain in no longer. "You drink blood, and you made me drink it, too." He started to interrupt, but she kept going. "You have the face of a monster." Although he no longer gazed at her with golden eyes encircled with veins, he looked as though it would revert to that state at any minute. He stiffened at the word monster, and he clenched his fists at his sides. "And you think you can rip my heart out."

"You're right, Caroline. You've convinced me. Congratulations, sweetheart."

Whatever he was thinking, Caroline was sure she wouldn't like it.

"I can't rip your heart out. Not until I see you suffer for your continued disobedience. So, tell me, Caroline, how would you like to see how monstrous I can really be? How should I punish you?"

"I don't—"

He wasn't looking at her face anymore. He had his eyes trained on her neck. And his face began to change.

"Do you know what a werewolf bite does to a vampire like yourself, sweetheart?"

"I—vampires don't exist. Werewolves don't exist. I'm not a vampire."

"What do you think I am, then? How do you think you woke up after your heart stopped? What about when your neck snapped? Just like this?" He put his hands on either side of her neck, and gently, he titled her head to the side, making a clicking sound with his tongue. "Think, Caroline. What did your bedtime stories call creatures who drank the blood of others, and who never died?"

"Vampires aren't real," She whispered hoarsely. "I hit my head. I was knocked out. And now I'm okay."

"And does your head hurt?"

"No."

"Good."

His eyes shifted back to her neck, and he ran his tongue over his lips. He moved almost imperceptibly at first, but then she was on her back, and he had her pinned down with his weight. His fangs bared, Klaus started to lunge for her neck. He imagined flesh tearing, reveling in her screams. But instead, he paused, so close he could practically smell the blood rushing beneath her skin. It was an incredible sight. Caroline's neck was arched, her chest heaving as she anticipated impact. Klaus slipped his fingers into her hair, angling her head back for even better access, but instead of mutilating and abusing as he had intended, he pressed his lips to her pulse point and gently broke the skin. She whimpered, although the pain was merely a pinprick and not the violent attack she had imagined it would be. Caroline felt his tongue on the open wound; she could feel his lips moving. It wasn't a brutal punishment. In fact, she started to enjoy it. It made her feel deliriously happy. She felt good, and Klaus felt good. His hands felt good where they rested on her hip and shoulder, strong and warm. His legs straddling her waist felt really good. And she felt incredibly close to him, and couldn't recall why she hadn't liked him.

Klaus pulled away from her, the taste of her blood lingering on his tongue. It had been the most delectable blood he had ever had the pleasure to drink, and he wanted more. He wanted to know if she tasted just as good elsewhere. He eyed her flimsy dress; how easily he could destroy it. It was pretty, certainly, but it was in his way. Klaus started towards the hem, but took pause when he felt a hand on his cheek. He looked to Caroline again, and at her neck, where a wound in the shape of his mouth gaped. He looked back to Caroline. Her thumb caressed the veins around his eyes, and she found them to be a little bumpy. And then, feeling bold, she moved her hand to his lips, and he parted them as her finger skimmed along his lower lip. It was daring, reckless, and perhaps a little stupid, but she slipped a finger past his lips, just to see how sharp his fangs were. She nicked the pad of her finger on the sharp tip, and before she could remove it, he was holding her wrist in place, sucking until the wound closed up. When he was done, her hand fell to her side, and she watched as his eyes faded to blue and the skin around them appeared as though there had never been any kind of anomaly. With contact broken, Klaus remembered his ire.

He held his wrist to her lips, and she gazed up at him through her lashes innocently and questioningly.

"Drink," He ordered.

"You want me to bite you?"

"I want you to break the skin and drink the blood, Caroline."

"I don't…I don't want to. No."

"Then, I can force my blood down your throat."

She grabbed his wrist as hard as she could, and pushed it away with as much force as she could muster.

"You're testing my patience, Caroline. Either you drink or I'll make you drink. And I assure you, it will not be pleasant."

She pushed herself to a sitting position, and eyed him carefully. She would comply, for now. But she would do it her way.

Before he could comprehend her actions, she had her hands on his shoulders, and was biting down hard, into his neck.

"No," He growled. This had not been the plan. He didn't allow anyone to drink from his neck, especially not petulant baby vampires. He would give her a second to acquit himself, and then he would force her away and instill some respect in her. He was the most powerful creature roaming the earth, and even if she didn't know it now, she would be wise to recognize that he was not to be toyed with.

But then her tongue was on his skin, and her chest was pressed to his. God, it felt so good. She sucked hard, not sparing him any tenderness as he had done for her. He answered by pulling her closer, roughly, by the hips. She was taking far more than her fair share.

She thought about how much blood was in his body, about how there wouldn't be enough to sate her. It wasn't because it tasted good, though, she told herself. Klaus was doing something to her. It was his fault. He was making her believe in things that weren't there. And there was no way that Caroline Forbes was actually enjoying this. Nope, not at all.

"Enough." She couldn't actually do any real damage to him, but Klaus was becoming dizzy from blood loss. "Enough, Caroline."

And despite how much she wanted to drink him dry, and how much she wanted more of whatever it was she had been drinking because there was no way blood could ever taste that good, not in Caroline's world, she conceded. When she had pulled away, and was gazing at him with those big blue eyes and sneaking little tastes of the blood still on her lips, he couldn't resist. He kissed her, and he could taste their blood mixing between their mouths.

His lips were strong, and warm. She moved with him, touching the stubble on his face, and then feeling his short curls. It wasn't long, though, before she remembered that she was kissing a monster, and she pushed him away.

Klaus looked angry, and rejected. He stood, pulling his shirt off over his head, and for the second time, Caroline feared that he would force himself upon her. He stalked over to the wardrobe, rummaged through one of the drawers, and then tossed her a dark grey henley.

"Put it on," He said.

She started towards the bathroom, but he stopped her.

"Put it on here. In front of me."

"You must be joking."

"You can either put it on now, and sleep in that, or you can remove your clothes in the bathroom, and sleep in nothing." He went back to the wardrobe, found a pair of slouchy pajama pants, and began to remove his own.

Caroline turned around. She didn't want to watch him get undressed. There was no part of her that was interested, whatsoever. Nope, not Caroline. She refused to let him think that he could make her a malleable mass of lovesick goo over his accent and stupid, totally not cute dimples. Besides, if she angled it right, with her back to him, he would see nothing.

She shimmied out of the dress, tossing it aside, and then unclasped her bra, and added it to the pile. She was just about to pull the henley on over her head, when she felt hands on her back.

"Please don't," She pleaded.

"I won't hurt you. Not if I don't have to."

How romantic of him, Caroline thought dryly.

"I can't put it on with your hands in the way." She was surprised to feel his touch gone, and as quickly as she possibly could, she tugged it on over her head. She didn't want to think about his hands. Nor did she care to imagine how messy her hair probably was and the fact that he was trying to convince her that they were both vampires now. And she definitely tried to avoid the idea that she was likely wearing one of his shirts.

But as soon as the shirt was on, he was leading her towards the bed.

Panic swelled in Caroline's chest, and she wasn't sure if air was making it into her lungs anymore. The room swam, and she wasn't sure if she was standing still or if she was swimming with it. This was it. She wasn't ready for this. Everything else must have been foreplay for him, because she was sure that his leading her to his bed meant one thing and one thing only. He was a sadistic monster, making her wear his shirts and drink his blood. It had all led up to this, and then he was going to do what he did to the other patients at the hospital and she really would end up in a creek somewhere in the woods. The worst part of it all, though, was that panic had paralyzed her, and in the moment it was most critical for her to fight, she froze up.

"Caroline."

She saw his hands cup her face, but she didn't feel them. And she could see his lips moving, and she understood that she knew the words, but she couldn't correlate any meaning to them.

"Caroline. Caroline, tell me what you need."

Burning. They were back in the forest, and he was really strangling her this time. And it hurt, god, it hurt so badly. She couldn't find her hands, but if she could just grab him, maybe she could stop him. Her lungs burned. Her throat burned, especially.

"Caroline. You're safe."

Safe? I'm not safe. That's what she would've said, but she couldn't find her tongue, either. If she could find her hands, maybe she could find her tongue, too. How could she be safe, when he was killing her?

"Hold your breath, Caroline. Just for a few seconds, and then it will be over. Okay?"

She wanted to laugh. How could she hold her breath, when he was depriving her of it already? She took comfort in the fact that he would kill her soon. It would be over, that's what he said. If she could just find her damn tongue, she could ask him to make sure her parents knew she loved them. It was so cliché of her to want those to be her parting words, but she couldn't bear to think that they would never know how grateful she was to have a mother and father, as imperfect as they were, who loved her.

Then something changed. She wasn't in the forest, but in a large bedroom, and Klaus' hands weren't around her neck, but in her hair. And his lips were on hers.

Caroline took a step back. She was okay, and she could breathe. They were sitting on the bed, and she could swear she saw fear in his eyes.

But that had to be wrong. He was just worried his toy was breaking.

"Why did you…?"

"You're safe. You wouldn't hold your breath on your own, so I did it for you."

Caroline just nodded.

"Caroline, why were you upset?"

Caroline looked away. He was still a monster. He still made her drink blood and was crazy enough to think he was actually a vampire. His fangs, and his glowing eyes, meant nothing. It was all some elaborate trick. He had probably drugged her, and it was making her think crazy things. Hell, maybe he had never said any of those things at all, and she was just hallucinating. Maybe she wasn't even really here, and Klaus and his siblings were just figments of her imagination because she was lonely. She started to get dizzy again, and she knew she had to stop. The fog in her mind would clear in the morning, and then she could determine for herself what was real and what wasn't.

"Caroline, tell me what set you off."

"The bed," She practically whispered. "You started leading me towards the bed, and I thought…I thought…"

"You're safe. I'm here."

She shook her head, and crawled across the bed to get under the covers. She didn't care whose bed she was sleeping in; she was exhausted. She needed this nightmare of a day to be over.

He got up and turned the lights off, and when he returned, she didn't make the slightest of movements. But he could hear the way her breaths trembled, and he knew she was awake. Nonetheless, he crawled in beside her, and pulled her to rest her head against his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, soothingly. Caroline hoped he would fall asleep and she could find a way out of his arms without his noticing. But she wasn't stupid, and could feel his gaze on the top of her head. And to be honest, she hadn't been hugged in so long. He was warm, and surprisingly comfortable to lie against. She had imagined him as hard lines and unforgiving planes, but his skin was soft and his touch was gentle. It couldn't hurt for one night. She thought of asking him if he had punished her sufficiently yet for her disobedience, acid in her tone, but she knew it would only serve to make him angry. She would have her answer tomorrow, and she was tired of fighting. She needed to rest. And so Caroline fell into a dreamless sleep in Klaus' arms.

A/N: I am so sorry that it took me so incredibly long to update this. I've been bogged down with assignments, and for a couple of weeks now, I've been very sick. I'm feeling better now, though, and I was hit with this inspiration to write. I never realized how short I had written some of the chapters, so this one is particularly long, longer than all three prior chapters combined and it comes up to about 10 pages in MS Word. It just flowed, and I hope it reads as well as I intended it to. I really tried to convey in this chapter that Caroline had been trying so hard to maintain control in the situation, but realizing Klaus' capabilities and that there might be a whole other world just under her nose is really testing her limits, and because of this, she's going in to panic mode. She's really trying to keep a lid on things, and convince herself that she's still not the crazy one here. She doesn't know what's going on, and that's really testing her, and she's in the situation where she's not sure if she's still sick, or if she can believe anything Klaus says, and even if she's not just imagining the whole thing. And then you have Klaus, who's so desperate to believe that he didn't turn her because he felt for her. Also, I was wondering if you had any opinions on how I'm titling my chapters. I always wondered why they stopped putting little titles for each chapter in books, and now I have my answer: it's like you're trying to name a new book every time. So if you have any ideas on good chapter titles, I'd love to hear them. Or maybe I should just call my chapters 'Chapter 1, Chapter 2, etc.' like a normal person. Also, thank you so much for your reviews! Your feedback is incredible, and I wish I could message all of you with my thanks, but I'm awkward and would probably scare you off forever. But if that doesn't deter you, you can reach me faster through my Tumblr, beautyqueenforbes, and ask me any questions or leave any comments or even tell me your ideas and what you'd like to see. Sorry for the long author's note that you probably skipped over, and I wouldn't blame you for it, haha. I hope you enjoyed it, and remember, reviews give me life and inspire me to write more!