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She'd been treating him like he was something fragile since he came back from Narnia. It had affected her more than she'd particularly wanted it to, even if she didn't realise it. Still, she was just careful, not raising her voice, not really talking back the way that she would have normally, asking if he was alright, bringing him blood-- Just those things that were ingrained that were Caroline Forbes is taking care of you. Any time it came to arguments, she ended up changing the subject or acquiecing-- which was obviously the sort of thing that was very unlike her.

And, unsurprisingly, Klaus didn't exactly appreciate it. Since she didn't realise she was doing it, she reacted badly to his looks that clearly said not to take care of him-- and she didn't know if it was because he didn't remember how sick he was, or how hard it was; she was constantly in a state of alertness because of it, and crabby besides, so when she sat cross-legged on the couch in the observation room and asked him how he was feeling, the look she got finally made her explode. "Okay, look, what the heck is your problem? I'm just being nice." And she's sort of on pins and needles, looking at him with furrowed brows and a frown.

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"But-" And her voice cracks, and she shakes her head. "But I should be able to stop it. I should be able to do something, or-" And this is the sort of conversation that she dreaded. That it would be like her father, telling her that she can't do anything. "I can't lose you that way. Not you, too. I can't." She's so upset by it, that she can't save him, that she can't do anything besides dream and try and dream and try.

"I have to try. Even if you tell me- wouldn't you? If I told you I was dying and there's nothing you could do, wouldn't you try?"

No, he would succeed, he wants to tell her, but doesn't, clenching his jaw against the pain of what he's about to say. Maybe he's not that hypocritical after all.

"You told me Finn was dead," he says, after a beat, and it's obvious how angry he still is about it. "You told me there was nothing I could do, nothing I did. Of course I would try, but I don't even know if I'll get the chance." To try, or to avenge him. Elena was lucky that he needed her. "I'm angry, and it makes me want to tear this station apart and kill all your friends." They were being honest, after all, and he would never hide who he was. "But I know there's a big bloody chance that I won't be able to do a thing."

He talks about Finn, he talks about killing Elena and Bonnie and she opens her mouth and closes it, and then lets her fingers slip from his hand, her brows furrowing because she doesn't know what to say, that it makes it worse because she feels like she should be able to do something before it escalates into this horrible cold war of him wanting to kill them, and them wanting to kill him, and Caroline in the center.

"Maybe it's just normal," she said finally, quietly. 'That you wish you could do something, you want desperately to do something, but you can't." Which didn't really address the whole dream thing, but it's all she can think to say, besides. "I'm sorry. About Finn, I really am." She looked over at him, and she knew she couldn't heal that wound for him, but her fingers found his hand again if he'd let her. "I want-" And then she stopped, her brows furrowing, her voice low. "I watched my father die. He hated what I was, and he hated it so much that when he was bitten, he wouldn't drink human blood, and he just- and he wouldn't let me help him, and-- I just dream of that. I know it's- I need to work through it." Apparently, they both did, in some ways.

"You need to accept it," Klaus repeats his earlier words, with more conviction this time. He doesn't have nightmares about Finn to the extent that Caroline does. Of course he has some, but they don't plague his nights. "Because it is normal, Caroline. It's the way it is for all the humans. It's only fair it should be like that for us too, sometimes."

Oh, how he wished things weren't fair in that regard.

"I didn't know what was happening," she said quietly. "I didn't know what was happening, with you. That you were going through withdrawal, that you weren't just- you could have been poisoned, or-" She rubbed her hands on her thighs, and took a deep breath, nodding. "Accept it. I can do that. I can accept it. I have to accept it." She bit the inside of her lip, and she was still tense, still worrying-- but she would try, and she shifted, tucking her feet under her, shifting closer to him. Not pressing against him, but closer. "I don't want anything to happen to you," she said quietly. "But I know- I mean, anything that could take you out, I mean, I may just die anyway, so."

And it's an issue with both his mortality and her own-- but if he was, long ago and far away, the vampire who made the vampire who made Katherine, then if he died then she'd have nothing to worry about anyway.

She nodded again, because she was trying to just come to peace with it, of a sort.

"I'm not going anywhere, love," he assured her again. "I didn't just survive a hundred years because I'm so hard to kill." Was so hard to kill, possibly, he was not going to test that theory. "I can take care of myself, and I'm not going anywhere."

She ran her hands up over her face, her fingers slipping into her hair. "Yeah, I know." And they kept going around and around, and she just wanted to shake him, to ask him if he truly had no idea how sick he'd been, or if he'd just not cared. She hated that he was acting like she just didn't understand. "I know, and I'll just accept it, and the whole serenity prayer thing."

His lips twitch up into almost a smile, and he shakes his head. "It's actually not a bad prayer. It has nice rhythm. Listen, love." He waits until she's looking up at him. "What happened happened. It wasn't me dying, and I'm not dying now." And he did not intend to be dying any time soon. "You're stronger than that."

"I know, I'm just... afraid," she said with a pause, taking a deep breath. "I know. I know you're fine. I do, I mean, look at you." She glanced over at him. "I know, Klaus, it's not like this is rational." She exhaled slowly, and looked over at him. "Do you think it's stupid?" She said it quietly, her brows furrowed. It was very human, all of this, but she was still young.

"I think it's very human," he answers for her, and reaches out to take her hand again. "And no, that's not an insult coming from me." Art is very human, after all. He brings her wrist to his lips and presses a kiss there. "I shudder to think what you'd be like if you were with someone easier to kill, but..." The last is said with a half-smile, fond teasing. "You'll be alright, love. Nobody should have to watch their parent die, especially not such a death."

Watching your father die after you drove the stake in yourself was a whole different thing, and yet no easy one either.

She shifted closer to him then, and her fingers caught his jawline, turning his face towards hers so she could kiss him, her forehead resting against his for a moment. "I love you," she murmured, and then before he could talk, really, because now is not the time that she really wanted to get into that, she leaned forward to kiss him again, her hand on the back of his neck, nearly climbing in his lap, just to be close to him.

Klaus encourages her to come closer, an arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her into his lap, because this is the opposite of death, and this makes sense. His other hand cups her face as he kisses her back, long and deep, meaningful, and hard enough that it would steal their breaths, if they needed to breathe.

She kissed him like she's not really kissed him before, like for her this seems like it's going to be forever, and it's with the desperation that comes both from fear and taking what you have, living in the moment, and accepting that she may not be able to change the future. Her fingers are tight in his hair, then smoothing to his chest as she feels where his heart would beat. It's a forever sort of kiss, half promise, half plea.

The hand on her cheek moves to her waist as well, and the next second he's flipped them on the bed, him over her, and kissing him with the same passion, the same promise. It's now and it is, if he can help it, forever.

She doesn't flip him back, doesn't laugh, instead she kisses him so deeply that she's not breathing, her arms twining around his neck, and it's so much that it makes her heart hurt, but she loves him so desperately, and to her, it's half be glad you have him while you do and half a losing sum game, but she's finally letting go of her heart and how she's been worried and afraid that something will happen - injury, death, disappearance- with him not knowing, or her not knowing how the other feels, and she's got to stop being afraid and just letting now be important.

It's the sort of kiss that goes and reaches deep inside him, to the core of him he so rarely lets people get to, but Caroline managed before he even decided to let her. Of course she manages again now, and he welcomes it, opens himself to it and kisses her back with the same passion, the same devotion to her and to them. He's leaning on one elbow, his other hand roaming up the side of her body, because he wants as much of her as he can get, and he won't settle for anything less.

It's then that Caroline thinks that maybe- just maybe, they're going to be in this for the long haul. That when she'd spoke about them being together in eighty years, the likelihood has gone from impossible to plausible, if they both make it out of here with memories intact. She's kissing him like he's so much of a part of her, and her hands keep following his body, roaming and exploring. Her kisses are deep and drugging, until she finally broke the kiss to stare into his eyes, then moving to kiss his cheek and jaw and neck.

He just looks at her when they break the kiss, and there's a small smile on his lips, all for her, and a low chuckle escapes him at the kiss to his cheek. It's so unexpected, but then she moves down towards his neck and hits that spot she found out about quickly enough, and he growls, low and full of desire for her, claiming her mouth again the next moment, even as his free hand pushes up her top. He wants skin, and he wants it now.

She pulls in a breath all of a sudden, because she forgot to breathe-- her eyes searching his a moment before he kisses her again, before she's pulling up his shirt as he's shoving up hers, and it's a flurry of movement before their shirts are on the floor and she's just got an eye-blindingly pink bra on. Her mouth catches his again, and it's still got that feeling, like this is important, that it's different than the other times they've done this, like it's cementing something in place, for her. Because she loves him, she feels like she forever loves him, and she's showing instead of telling.

And he's showing it right back, not I love you but I will love you and how certain he is of that, if she gives him enough time, because he's already half in love with her and he knows it's just a question of time. It probably feels like I love you, because when he loves it's fierce and huge and so much that this is already like it, because he couldn't show it more than that, more just doesn't exist, he can't show it as much as he'll feel it. They moved when they were taking their shirts off and now she's in his lap, and his hands find the hook of her bra and then push the straps off, letting her take it all the way off. There is the stretch of her back and the length of her spine under his fingers, all the way down to her ass, pulling her closer onto his erection, her breasts pressed against his chest, and he can't get enough of her mouth. He's here and he's alive and he keeps expecting her to come to her senses and leave him, but she hasn't, isn't, doesn't, and he's going to make the most of it.

Oddly enough, when they talk about making peace with things, of letting what is, be-- that is how she feels about love. She doesn't expect it from him, and when it happens, she has no idea how she'll deal with it, if she will. It's a problem, but one they're not at yet, because she thinks that this is enough, that it's obvious that he cares, and it's why she's kissing him like he's everything. She's rocking her hips closer even though there's far too many layers between them, and her nails run over his shoulders. Every kiss is more, and she breaks away just to run her mouth over where she'd bitten him what seems like a lifetime ago, murmuring unintelligible words across his skin.

Way, way too many layers, and when her mouth finds the right spot again he flips them, ending up on top of her again. He gives her a quick kiss, a promise for more, and moves down her body to open her fly and tug her pants down, fingers hooking into her panties as well because he just wants all of her, and soon as she's naked he takes care of his own jeans, socks and shoes, as fast as he can so he's back with her, so much skin against skin, in no time at all.

Caroline gasps when he flips them, and she doesn't hold still while he's moving, leaning up to reach for him so when he comes back she's touching him as soon as possible. Her hands run up his ribs, up the muscles of his back as she kisses him deeply, making a low sound into his mouth. It's I love you with no words, the way her body arches against his, the way her leg slides around his waist for a moment, and it's them being so close together, so close to each other. It's a connection between them, and she shifts them in a rush, moving so that she's on top and sort of so she can show him, reaching between them so she could slide down on him with a low moan in her throat, arching her back.

She flips them right before he enters her, her leg against his waist as much invitation as he needs, but he doesn't have time to be frustrated that she's sinking down on him instead, a vision on top of him, gorgeous and strong, and so warm around him. His hands are on her hips even as his move, encouragement, watching her and more than that, admiring her, the glint of it clear in his eyes.

She kisses him again, his mouth swallowing the sounds from her throat as her hands catch in his hair and this is the line between sex and making love, as trite as it sounds. She didn't expect it to happen, and doesn't really expect it to happen again, but still she's there and her mouth devours his even as she rolls her hips.

She tries to stop it, but she forces the kiss to break as she can't stop her fangs from slipping, and her forehead presses to his shoulder as she tries to regain control even as she is giving all of herself into this.