Caroline Forbes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
persevere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2017-10-16 10:29 am
persevere) wrote in entrancelogs2017-10-16 10:29 am
[closed] maybe we're trying, trying too hard
Who: Caroline Forbes and Klaus Mikaelson
Where: Their Room
When: 10/16
Rating: Eh...we'll see? PG-13 for now.
Summary: Klaus has been falling apart since the Tartarus event. A concerned Caroline tries to figure out what's going on.
The Story:
[It's been...a long week.
After her birthday party, she'd lost her best means of distraction, which meant obsessive cleaning of her bedroom. When that had finished, she tried to meet up with her friends and get out as much as possible, which resulted in spending time with Elena and finding out that her best friend had died during the event. Again. And she'd dragged her to a party the next day unaware of what Elena had been dealing with. Damon, too.
To say the least, that hadn't helped, so now she had guilt to go along with those horrible memories.
To make matters worse, Klaus was...not very present. They slept in the same bed but he didn't touch her. He spent more time with a brush and his paints than talking to her. She felt like a stranger sometimes, and she didn't know if it was simply him dealing with the event or if she'd done something to make him like this. Events didn't usually bother him, not like this. This was...something else.
After a week of waiting for something to change, of hoping he would just come talk to her, she took matters into her own hands, stepping into the doorway and blocking his exit as he sat at his easel.]
You're painting again.
Where: Their Room
When: 10/16
Rating: Eh...we'll see? PG-13 for now.
Summary: Klaus has been falling apart since the Tartarus event. A concerned Caroline tries to figure out what's going on.
The Story:
[It's been...a long week.
After her birthday party, she'd lost her best means of distraction, which meant obsessive cleaning of her bedroom. When that had finished, she tried to meet up with her friends and get out as much as possible, which resulted in spending time with Elena and finding out that her best friend had died during the event. Again. And she'd dragged her to a party the next day unaware of what Elena had been dealing with. Damon, too.
To say the least, that hadn't helped, so now she had guilt to go along with those horrible memories.
To make matters worse, Klaus was...not very present. They slept in the same bed but he didn't touch her. He spent more time with a brush and his paints than talking to her. She felt like a stranger sometimes, and she didn't know if it was simply him dealing with the event or if she'd done something to make him like this. Events didn't usually bother him, not like this. This was...something else.
After a week of waiting for something to change, of hoping he would just come talk to her, she took matters into her own hands, stepping into the doorway and blocking his exit as he sat at his easel.]
You're painting again.
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he wants to tell her. he doesn't know how to tell anyone. it has never been in his nature to do so. (his troubles have always been entrusted to one person in all the centuries of his life. he feels the beginnings of that unfettered yearning; he would confess these horrors and terrors to elijah. to his brother.
elijah is not here, and he does not need to pretend.)
he nearly brings the edge of the paint brush to his lips before he casts it off to the side. it clatters onto the ledge of his easel where he throws it.
he summons some resilience, some courage, and lifts his head to meet her eyes. he knows she cannot fix anything; certainly not here. his exhale is short, shaky. he thinks about how vulnerable she does make him, how easily and often she reaches inside of him and pulls him out. ) I couldn't find you. ( his voice is thick and the words do not come easy, but he lets them spill out. ) I couldn't find my sister or anyone I cared about, and when I did— ( his eyes fill with tears. his hand lifts, fingers half-curled. ) I saw my daughter. As a- a monster of that place, and I wanted it to be her. ( his brows furrow; he doesn't forgive himself for this. he doesn't stop wanting it.
his expression turns to grimace; that hand lifts to his head. ) I saw Elijah, Rebekah, Hayley, Marcellus. It was all in my head. They took what I wanted and used it against me. I held Clementine in my arms after I wasn't there to save her. ( he looks to her, horrified and and imploring all the same. )
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The things he loves, the things he cares about, thrown in his face. It's not just one thing, but an entire list of them, each as horrific as the last.
She doesn't know Clementine well, but she knows who she is, knows that she's just a child. It's not hard to connect the dots, to make parallels, to make it all somehow worse than it already feels.
Caroline knows what it's like to desperately want to be able to save someone and fail. It hurts like almost nothing else can, and she's never had to tie the emotions of being a parent into all of that, just the kid on the other side.
She was right; she can't fix this. It can't be fixed because he isn't wrong. Wonderland takes what they care about, takes what the love, and uses it in ways that maim and hurt and ravage. They're helpless against it, for now at least, and weathering it gets more and more difficult as the place finds more and more ways to test them, each more creative than the last.
There's nothing she can say to make it better, and that's all she wants to do.]
Hey- [She steps closer to him, lifts her hands to his face, lays her palms against his cheeks. Her thumbs brush under his eyes, collecting tears that threaten to fall before they manage to dampen his skin.] -look at me. What Wonderland has done to you is horrible and I'm sorry I wasn't here for you.
[She should have noticed sooner. Should have said something earlier.]
But I'm here now.
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he knows she is here for him. that is all she has ever been. despite everything, when it mattered, he has trusted her. he trusts her now.
his eyes stay on hers. he beseeches her forgiveness without words. as much as he trusts her, as much as he needs her, he needs elijah too. he needs his family.
he leans into her touch, his eyes falling downcast before they fall shut. he head shakes as to dispel the burgeoning despair building in him. his lashes flutter open. ) If I could speak to him just for a moment...
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She would give anything to be able to talk to her Mom for just one more minute, for her to help make sense of this place and how to get out, to cry with when it got to be too much. She needs Elena to be the sister she doesn't have when she needs to talk about things that only she would understand.
Of course, he'd want his family.]
I know. [There's nothing wrong with wanting things.] I wish you could talk to him, too.
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he wishes he could see his brother, too.
his eyes lift to hers. there is nothing to forgive, but there is something to give to her. something owed, deserved — and wanted. he wants to give it to her. he promises her with fierce decision, ) When I need space I'll tell you. I'll talk to you. I promise.
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Thanks.
[She means it, but it's sad that they're having this conversation at all. That it took so long to have, that it had to happen like this.]
I know I can get kind of crazy. Something happens and no matter what I do my head just goes to all these places I don't want it to when I don't know what's going on and then I do something stupid because I don't know how to fix it.
[Which is what she'd started to do, blaming herself, getting frustrated with him for something she didn't know the reason behind. Her self-esteem still isn't at a place where she can just look at things completely objectively. She's just glad she's come far enough to know that doing something about it is better than stewing in it until it explodes.
It almost did explode.]
I just want you to be okay. And I don't want to be the reason you aren't.
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he doesn't want to be the reason for her insecurities. he doesn't want her stressing over something so constant to him, no matter his foolishness. his lips part and he sucks in a breath; his eyes are soft and saddening with a touch of remorse:
it is sad they had to have this conversation at all. but he is glad they had it. that they will continue to have it. he lifts a hand to cradle her cheek, to thread his fingers into her hair. ) First of all, never doubt that you, that this, is one of the very best things in my life. No matter where we are, when we are, that will always be true. ( his other hand reaches to cup her opposite cheek. he lightens further, and is smiling by the last word. ) Second of all, I happen to find your desire to understand and control each and every aspect of your life quite alluring.
( his thumb follows the line of her jaw to her chin. his voice softens with sincerity. ) I don't mind that you need to know. I prefer it.
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I guess I'm just used to being the burden. Or the complication. The last two times I fell for someone they chose hate and grief over me. They didn't want space. They just...left.
Letting myself love you means I don't have control anymore and it scares the crap out of me.
[It's something she hates to admit, that she's in some ways scared of this. Scared of getting hurt again, even if through no fault of either of their own.
Her hand reaches up to lay against the back of his hand, holding it against her face.]
This, though...I feel a lot better now. So, thank you for helping me understand. For realizing that I need this and being okay with it.
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he does not regret it. he cannot regret it in the case of tyler, and he will not be that way in the case of stefan; it's all the more reason to be a better man for her today.)
one of his hands reaches to curl into hers. he swallows thickly, sliding closer in his earnestness. ) You're not the burden, or a complication. ( far from it. ) When you were gone, I barely slept. I couldn't bear to be in our bed, knowing you might never again be there with me. I painted and I drank and only Rebekah succeeded in pulling me from some of my foulest of moods. ( he was lost without her. his hand, beneath hers, caresses her cheek. ) This frightens me too.
I need you, ( he does ) I need you to understand. I need as much as you.
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Only Rebekah could pull him out of his misery. Just as she seems to be the only one that can do the same in Rebekah's absence.
He's scared. They both are. Once again, they're the same.]
Good. [The words is soft and yet firm all at once. She feels intense relief, followed quickly by a touch of guilty, and she finds herself laughing in her embarrassment.] I wanted to get you to talk to me and I ended up talking about myself. Good job, me.
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it unburdens, hearing her assent, seeing even a rueful smile.
his fingers card through her hair; his arm slides around her waist. ) It's hardly a topic of conversation to which I'm opposed. ( the words are low and sweet. )
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[It's clear that she's teasing, even if it's not entirely false. He's always been the one trying to find out more about her, and she'd always been the one pushing him away as hard as she can, as if finding out more was too dangerous.
She hadn't been entirely wrong.
Still, things were different here. Instead of deflecting to talk about her, he'd gone out of his way to make her understand him, and it's made all the difference.]
I FORGOT THIS ONE SO WE'RE EVEN
he speaks with a teasing and low tone, but it is a promise too. a promise that scares him, but one he makes all the same. ) From now on I'll be certain to be a bit more selfish.