Chapter Text
Caroline wakes up to a shift in the air and the smell of rusted iron.
The walls seem to close in on her, the air feels thick, she is being squeezed so tightly around the middle she starts to panic.
And then, just as suddenly, it's over, and she's on hands and knees, throwing up in the grass. She drops to one side, curling in on herself.
"I hadn't known vampires could throw up." Her eyes open at the accented voice, she looks up. There is Klaus, looking calm and collected under the full moon.
"What the fuck just happened?" She demands, sitting up slowly.
Klaus sighs, "You're not going to like it, sweetheart."
"What. The fuck. Just happened?"
"I'm afraid your little witch friend made a miscalculation, which while unfortunate for you, is rather fortunate for her."
"Spit it out, Klaus."
He offers her a hand, "Old magic, powerful magic, demands blood. You had a substantial amount of my blood in your system, love. Whatever spell she used on me affected you, too. And so now, I get to enjoy your company on this little trip, and am significantly less murderous than I otherwise might be."
She glares at him, slaps his hand away. "So I am stuck here, wherever here is, because you lost your temper and stabbed me with a freaking lamp?!"
Klaus' face turns cold, "You are here, love, because your little friends murdered my brother and then locked me in a room with his corpse. Oh, and then your boyfriend decided to come and gloat."
"Ex-boyfriend." She mutters.
Klaus' head turns, clearly interested.
"I did not dump Tyler for you." She stresses. "You killed his mom, he helped kill two of your brothers, then he pissed you off in some macho dick measuring contest, and somehow I'm the one who got bit, and then he literally left me to die with my murderer. I'm done with guys whose egos come first."
Klaus has the audacity to look pleased. "That sounds a very sensible decision, love."
She narrows her eyes. "You definitely fit into that category."
"Nonsense, Caroline," he smiles winningly, hands clasped behind his back, "I have it on very good authority that my paranoia is my first love."
She finds herself fighting a smile. Klaus' smile widens, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
Deciding it's safer to sort out their situation than to let Klaus be charming, she looks around pointedly, "So, where are we?"
"That is the question, isn't it? Where did your witch think it would be safe to send me?"
He offers her a hand again, pulls her to stand. She sways and he steadies her. "Don't you go flashing off on me," she warns, "I'm not interested in getting bitten again today, especially not without the cure handy."
Klaus grins, sweeping her into his arms, "If you wanted to be close, Caroline, you had only to ask."
Caroline has to admit, being stuck with Klaus doesn't suck. He has lived without cellphones and GPS, and isn't a bit fazed by not having their phones available. He finds running water, and follows it downstream. "Small streams feed into bigger ones, and eventually on to rivers. Civilization hugs rivers." Klaus had explained as he sped along. He moves at impossible speeds, and carrying her doesn't seem to slow him at all. Caroline guesses that's one of the perks of being a thousand-year-old vampire. It certainly takes away any guilt she might otherwise feel.
She jolts awake when he comes to a sudden stop. The sun is just peaking over distant hills. "What's the matter?"
Klaus' expression is pinched, his jaw tight. She follows his gaze to a city a few kilometres down the river. "Klaus, that's a city, this is good news, right?"
He sets her down, gently, then turns and starts ripping trees apart, screaming in rage.
She flinches back, starts scrambling away. He turns, then, and sees the terror written across her face. He rakes his hands across his face, seems to gather himself, somewhat.
"That is the river Thames, Caroline, and that," he points furiously at the city, "is London."
Caroline squints down at the sprawling town spanning both sides of the river. She frowns. "That can't be London, Klaus. Where are the skyscrapers? The highways?"
"There are none, not yet." He spits out.
Her gaze snaps to him. "You're saying we're in the past. Because you recognize it."
He nods.
"We can get back, right? You were here, right? You know witches, you can get us home, can't you?"
"The power to use old magic is rare, love, and even rarer are those willing. Expression is a dark path to go down." He exhales. "I very much doubt there will be any getting back."