"She was incomprehensible, for, in her, soul and spirit were one - the beauty of her body was the essence of her soul. She was that unity sought for by philosophers through many centuries. In this outdoor waiting room of winds and stars she had been sitting for a hundred years, at peace in the contemplation of herself." - F. Scott Fitzgerald The Beautiful and Damned

Caroline runs.

She's flying across blurs of asphalt, grass, and scenery. All she wants to do is run; far away from her mom and Elena and Bonnie and any other human. Caroline wants to keep on running until she can't see the face of the carnival worker she's killed, until she can't see his dead eyes and strangled pleas for help because she killed him. Caroline didn't mean to - she knows she didn't mean to, but she was just so, so, so hungry.

And the blood pumping through his veins was so strong and sturdy and Caroline had felt an impulse crushing down onto her mind and soul like a tsunami wave. She felt as if someone were strangling her and the only thing she could do to remove their hand was to drink blood; to drink until her mind calmed and her eyes turned cornflower blue again.

Caroline wants to hate herself for killing the man but all the more, she's confused and tired and frightened. And at the same time - and this is the part Caroline loathes - she feels exhilarated.

She felt a pride like no other when she shoved Damon down to the ground, saw his eyes open wide with shock as that candlelight in her grew into a roaring fire. She felt the sense of knowing, that for once in her life, she held the upper hand and that the torture she underwent would be returned unto him.

It was only compassion and a fear for what she was may do that held her back, but Caroline couldn't deny the strange tingling of relief when she realized that Damon looked wary of her.

But the moment she'd left the hospital and felt the weight of what she was fall upon her shoulders, Caroline felt horrid. Utterly perturbed with her desire to drink until a corpse remained on the floor, she could only imagine what her own mother would say to her.

Her mother, who'd done everything in her power to protect Caroline from the dark knowledge of what Mystic Falls held because she was Caroline. Stupid, sweet Caroline who was shallow and dumb and selfish. The girl who only cared about parties and smiles and pleasing others that she'd forgotten how to stop and remember if she too had any laughter of her own to keep instead of give.

Caroline made sure her feet kept moving, that she blazed across wherever the damn hell she was going until she felt sick with grief and allowed herself to tumble headfirst to a pitstop.

Blinking, Caroline looks up to see that she was in a wealthy enough neighborhood with houses that were as large as sculpted mountains; each spaced so far apart that it's only with her vampiric eyesight that she ca see the ten homes spaced across the acres of lawn. Caroline leans until her back hits an oak tree, and only then does she allow the tears to fall; she cries unashamed and with such a passion that she wonders if she'll soon cry tears of blood.

"What have I done," Caroline murmured, salty tears streaming down bloodied cheeks as she clutches her knees, wanting to pierce through the expensive denim of her jeans and claw at her own flesh. "I'm a monster." she whispers finally, blinking rapidly as the memory of the man's dead face fills the forefront of her mind.

She can only imagine what Elena would say, what Bonnie would do. Caroline knows that they'd shun her; lock her away somewhere and brand her a demon possessed.

She wants to tell them that Damon and Stefan are vampires and that she's not stupid; she knows of the supernatural things that have occurred in Mystic Falls; that she purposely blinded herself to it but dammit, she knows. She wants to plead for them to give her a chance, to help her and she, in turn, will swear her life to them.

She'll protect them with what she has if they'll only give her a chance.

Hours pass and Caroline still remains seated beneath that oak tree. Her tears have receded long enough for Caroline to realize that she's most likely in Connecticut. The weather is chillier than in Virginia and the mansions surrounding her are built of hued beige and retain their nineteenth century cream palate, looming over in tones of mahogany and holding themselves high with pointed peaks and paneled windows. There are various statues and sculptures scattered along the long lawns before each house; some with sundials of granite and others with Venus's made of white marble. Caroline can see it all and for a moment, it takes her breath away.

"I'm actually in Connecticut," Caroline whispers to herself, feeling an absurd spark of glee in her chest. She's never been outside of Virginia and if all her Fortune 500 magazine subscriptions have taught her anything, it's that these mansions can only exist in Stamford, Connecticut.

The land of billionaires, Wall Street financiers, and old money hedonists.

"They're probably all like gas tanks ready to implode with STDs," Caroline mutters to herself, clutching at her knees as she imagines a pastel decked Ralph Lauren love child prancing about outside in his Italian loafers and shining Versace aviators. "Ugh," Caroline scoffs, "ew."

"Quite agree with you, love," an accented British voice floats into the still evening air, breaking Caroline from her suppressed thoughts and causing her to shoot nearly ten feet up in the air. "Calm down, sweetheart, I'm not here to hurt you." the voice sounds amused and warmer than it was before, almost as if it'd been listening to Caroline's ridiculous internal monologue the entire time.

"Stay away from me," Caroline warns, balling her hands into fists as she quickly runs a good few feet away from the oak tree. "Just…please don't move!" she begs; she won't kill another man tonight.

She couldn't.

"I know I sound like a psycho movie cliche when I say this, but I really don't want to hurt you - and this time it's not said in self defense!" she blurts out desperately, completely negating the fact that this strange voice still showed no face that Caroline could really attach it to. "I'm just going to go now." she adds awkwardly, "so you can just…go back to doing whatever it is you do here on Billionaire's Lane." Caroline turns around, ready to leave, only to come face to face with eyes of liquid sapphire.

"You're clever," he murmurs peering down into her cerulean eyes, a gentle curiosity smooth in his cadence. "Tell me where we are." he probes, almost playfully.

The man hasn't compelled Caroline but she finds herself enraptured by his gaze. "I…most likely Stamford. In Connecticut." she says, voice slightly breathy before she blinks and frowns.

It takes her a good moment to realize she can't smell any blood on him; that he's standing before her cocky and expecting and Caroline feels no urge to drain him.

Her eyes open wide and before she can ask the question, his answer slides off his tongue.

"I've been watching you, love." he says and the old Caroline would have completely melted at the romantic notion of such an idea, but the new Caroline, the Caroline that's been a human blood bag, is resilient.

"That's a little creepy, don't you think?" she spits out, not quite rudely but most certainly not as polite as Miss Mystic Falls could have made it. "Anyway, I'm just passing through and if you seriously tell me you're going to follow me, I'll call the police." she's totally bluffing but he doesn't need to know that.

Rather, the foreigner with the fire blue eyes and unruly dark blonde curls takes a step closer. Caroline jumps back a good five feet.

She swears she's hallucinating when he's suddenly right in front of her.

"You're…"

"A vampire." he finishes with a dimpled smile that's far too adorable to even be remotely associated with the word 'sinister'.

Caroline feels as if her whole world has been shaken and she suddenly can't breath when he drops his fangs and his eyes turn yellow. "How…?"

He takes Caroline's hand but she yanks it back. "Don't touch me," she warns; there's a slight panic to her voice and she knows he knows that she's on guard but fuck it.

Caroline won't get played like a marionette doll again.

"If you're a vampire, your eyes should be like…" without even thinking, Caroline's own eyes turn red. Blinking, she immediately turns around, suddenly ashamed. "Sorry, I just - fuck!" she swears desperately, feeling stupid for apologizing before the flood of emotions she'd just neatly compartmentalized comes rushing back again.

She tries to steady her brain, tries to fill it with a Lana Del Rey song or something but somehow, she feels her dead heartbeat spike and her head begins to feel hot and fuzzy again - oh god, Caroline doesn't know if she's having a vampire related panic attack or -

"Sweetheart - look at me." and suddenly Caroline's face to face with this strange British vampire again, his hands on the sides of her arms, his voice as lulling as a sea bay's waters but as commanding as a stroke of lightening. "Look at me," he commands, tilting Caroline's chin up until they're eye to eye. "I want you to breathe, love. You're newly transitioned; emotions are heightened and you will feel everything at once. The shock and guilt of killing someone for the first time, am I right, love?"

"And the last." Caroline manages to gasp out, "I…I won't kill anyone again." her voice is shaky and her promise sounds doubtful.

It looks like the stranger can hear it too because he raises a brow and smiles a half smile that makes Caroline breath a little more easily. "Don't do this to yourself," he warns, "you are a vampire. We survive on the blood of others because we are creatures that are beyond mere humans. Just as humans consume food, so we must consume them. Though," he adds when he sees Caroline's eyes darken with protest, "there is no real need to kill them in order to feed."

"Is that what it's called? Feeding? Ugh," she shakes her head, "I feel like a neanderthal for just saying it. Feeding. What am I - a gorilla?" Caroline mumbles out, trying to block out the horrified images of her mother; of the dead carnival worker's eyes.

The man's hands run up and down her arms, bringing Caroline closer to him. "Listen to me, love, and listen closely. Whatever it is you feel, remember it. Hold onto this light inside of you and do not lose sight of it. But even still, I want you to remember that there is no need to fear who you are." Caroline's eyes lift on their own accord, to find his.

No one has ever spoken to her this way.

"You are a vampire, just as I am. You are graceful and beautiful and you are more intelligent than you give yourself credit for. You panicked while alone at your turning, most likely due to a negligent creator, but instead of going on a rampage, you satisfied a dream that you've managed to lure to the surface." his voice is a strange swirl of rose petals and street lights shining in the mist.

Caroline can almost see the pieces of her life stitching themselves before her eyes as he smiles down at her.

"You ran from your town and you journeyed to another place in the world; to see sights you have not seen and venture beyond what you've been taught." he keeps a gentle but firm grip on Caroline's shoulders as he senses her relaxing in his presence. "Sweetheart, being a vampire means drinking blood. It is how we survive."

"But I can't just go around killing people for it!" she suddenly objects, feeling something in her that's holding onto this man's words like the grail itself but Caroline, the very essence of who she is, protests. "I won't go around feeding on others just because it will keep me alive. I want to make sure that the world population doesn't just die out during my lifetime!" she nearly stomps her foot as well but manages to restrain herself, blushing.

He chuckles, shoulders shaking and blue eyes mirthful as he stands before her; an entity of time and wisdom and alluring promise that Caroline feels embarrassed about her little outburst.

How was she to know this was the first time he's laughed in years, in decades, in centuries. How was she to know that he has stood here and listened to her quiet ramblings, saw her realization of knowing where she was, and her strength of will to compartmentalize trauma in order to focus on the present.

Beautiful and strong and full of light.

In all his years of life, Klaus Mikaelson is fascinated with another creature and her hope, her beautiful sunshine glow is blinding to him.

"I can teach you," Klaus suddenly says, holding her more tightly than he did before as something new rushes through him. "I can teach you how to feed, love." that, and so much more.

"I already - "

"Without," Klaus taps the tip of her nose, "killing the human."

He lays the offer out before her and hopes she realizes this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

There's something in this strange, newborn vampire that Klaus can't kill; perhaps it's because she's curious and humorous and manages to keep something bright about her even in death. Perhaps it's because she's golden haired and strong willed and cares about the blood bags Klaus has long since considered food and prey.

Perhaps it's because she called herself a psycho movie cliche and altercated with a man others trembled in fear of.

Whatever the reason, Klaus waits; waits with more patience than he's given anyone else in his thousand years.

Caroline seems to sense a shift in the air as she looks into this man's blue eyes again, feeling promise flood through her body. For the first time, she feels a wave of calm in her since her turning/death by the Elena lookalike. It's a freedom, she realizes.

Gingerly, Caroline raises her hand to this blonde man's face.

"You won't hurt me?" she manages to whisper, voice a little shaky and she hates herself for sounding so weak but she maintains her line of sight with his own.

She's Caroline Forbes. She won't back down again.

Klaus, almost appalled that anyone would hurt someone - her - that has a light so beautiful shining within them, feels fury for her sorrow. Fury towards the one who has made her voice soft and trembling; she's meant to be light and fire and buoyant joy and he's determined that she remain so, just as she was when he first heard her quiet murmurings.

"I promise." he vows, "but I cannot promise that you will not become angered with what I do. With what I am." he adds, wanting - for the first time - to let her know that when he kills, he does not kill to spite her.

He wants her to promise, on her part, that she will not run away.

Caroline smiles at him, beautiful and golden, leaning in closer. "I promise to learn from you." she whispers, making a mental note that she will become a better vampire than Damon ever was. That she will become stronger than who she was before and that she will manage to smooth herself in her own skin, just as easily as this man before her.

Caroline Forbes may not seem broken but she is - like cracked sea glass sparkling in the sunset. She worries about details too often and wants to banish the squirming ache in her chest whenever Elena is chosen before her, when Bonnie disapproves of whatever motive Caroline plans to employ.

She's not as compassionate as Elena because Caroline has an uncanny ability to reason out the thoughts of those others loathe. Maybe it's because Caroline knows what it's like to be on the other side of rose bed and when she looks into the eyes of this vampire before her, she sees centuries of something that Caroline knows all too well.

So she drops her hand from his cheek so she can hold his hand, her eyes sparkling.

"I won't leave you," she says (and hopes he won't run now), "I want to learn from you."

For his thousand years, Klaus doesn't know what to say when a smile blooms across her face and he feels one appear on his lips as well.

"If we are to do this," he says gently, hand coming up to brush away a lock of blood stained hair, "I'll need to know your name, love."

Caroline doesn't want to tell him her name because she likes the way he gives her that gentle endearment.

Love.

Klaus chuckles then, shaking his head with a rare show of mirth. "I promise I'll keep that in mind, love." he stresses the last word and Caroline blushes, realizing she's rambled aloud again.

"Damn you and your accent." she mutters, looking down as her cheeks burn.

"Trust me love, your allure does not go unnoticed on my part either." he murmurs into her ear, causing shivers to run down her spine. "Now, won't you tell me your name?"

Caroline takes a deep breath as she lifts her head again, eyes defiant as she looks into his. "And how do I know you won't stake me once I tell you my name?"

Klaus raises a brow. "And why would I kill you after you've told me your name?" he plays by her strange inquiry only because there's something about her that makes him happy.

She shrugs. "I read a book once about a serial killer who'd always make their victims say their own name before he killed them. Of course, you don't look like a serial killer but, then again, neither did my last boyfriend." she wants to punch Damon once more but pushes him out of her mind.

She'll become a better vampire than he ever could hope to be.

As her eyes sparkle with determination, Klaus thinks he could get used to her untainted fire and sargasso sea hope. He could hold onto her forever and bask in this light, this warmth of joy and something akin to a spirited want that he can't help but delight in.

"I wouldn't dream of killing you," he says, voice more honest than he wants it to be. "I could never extinguish that light." and with that, Klaus simply cannot bring himself to care that his voice is a mere whisper. That it is aching with a buried truth that has come spiraling out as he looks at a summer sky in the midst of a midnight eve.

His words soak into Caroline's bones as she sees no brass in his tone, only a smooth and rich gold that is as pained as her own. She shakes her head, smile on her lips and wonders if craziness came with being a Forbes.

She decides yes before taking a deep breath and smiling.

"My name is Caroline Forbes. Former Miss Mystic Falls, captain of the cheerleading team, and baking queen of a very small part of Virginia. I enjoy the colors yellow and pink even though they remind everyone else of Trix yogurt, and I love planning parties more than I love going to them. I'm seventeen years old and student body president and I hope you won't think that I'm just another dumb blonde because I'll kill your balls in if you do." she warns playfully as his smile grows. She's never felt such an easy confidence roll over her before and she somehow thinks this one man is the thing that's enabled it. "Well?" she eyes him, smile wide. "It's your turn."

"My turn?" he inquires mockingly, "what makes you think I ought to give you any answers at all, sweet Caroline?"

She rolls her eyes and pokes his chest. "Duh. I'll kick your balls in, remember?"

He laughs outright at this because it's an absurd notion, but her sparkle is lovingly bright.

He's willing to overlook this indiscretion if it means that she will keep this soft warmth radiating from her very soul.

"My name is Niklaus Mikaelson." he smiles, "I am one thousand years old and an Original vampire. I enjoy Baroque art pieces and happen to find Leonardo Da Vinci a most delightful man." he pauses, looking at her saucer wide eyes with wonder. "I can teach you how to be glorious, Caroline Forbes, if you would only let me."

She doesn't even hesitate when she nods, leaning in close.

He smiles. "And as for the rest," he trails off, eyes focusing on her lips for a brief moment before he strokes her petal soft cheek, "you shall learn for yourself."

She pouts momentarily but Klaus smiles at her, vowing to make this beautiful golden girl his.

When he presses his lips to hers, Caroline feels breathless and Klaus savors something that, for the first time, tastes like hope.

In Mystic Falls, Virginia, Caroline Forbes is declared missing before a search for her body begins.

Liz Forbes works tirelessly but, after a decade passes by, gives up and begins to finally mourn for the daughter she had long neglected and eventually, lost.

The Salvatore's remain in Mystic Falls long enough to unravel Katherine's ploy but by then, a new mansion has been built on the outskirts of town that is grandiose and styled like a superior Stamford manor. The flown-in New York realtor informs a man that Damon later compels that the home is for a Mr. and Mrs. Mikaelson, globetrotters with a ceaseless sense of wanderlust.

Seven weeks later, Stefan is met by a breathless Elena who swears up and down that the new Mrs. Mikaelson is the spitting image of the supposedly dead Caroline Forbes.

A/N: Written after watching an old TVD episode involving Katherine killing Caroline. Because who doesn't wonder what would've happened if Caroline had Klaus for a mentor instead of Stefan?

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