[Season 3, episode 21. After the Rescue]

You didn’t stop moving until the building vanished behind you—until the chaos, the screaming, the blood, all dissolved into wind. Klaus held you against him like you weighed nothing, like letting you go wasn’t an option he could even consider. The world blurred and then snapped sharply into stillness as he stopped.

Your heart hammered unevenly. Your breathing was shallow and shaking.

But Klaus was the one who went still.

He looked down at you—really looked—and something cold, ancient, and terrifyingly protective slid into his eyes.

Your legs weren’t braced at all.

Not tense. Not instinctive. Not even trying.

Just limp. Hanging uselessly from his arms.

His jaw clenched hard enough you heard it.

“Put me down,” you whispered, embarrassed, fragile, already anticipating a lecture. It was the Forbes instinct—snap, deflect, pretend you weren’t terrified.

He didn’t put you down.

Instead, he lowered you carefully to the ground, hands steady beneath your arms. When he released you, gravity hit you like betrayal. Your knees buckled instantly, collapsing without even a flicker of support.

Klaus caught you before you hit the floor.

And that was when the real panic set in.

“What—” Your breath hitched. “Why aren’t they working? Klaus, what’s—you’re scaring me.”

He didn’t answer.

You tried again. You tried to move them, to twitch a toe, to tense a muscle—anything. The intention fired, sharp and desperate.

Nothing happened.

No response. No connection. Just empty, terrifying nothing.

“Klaus,” you choked, your voice trembling. “Why can’t I feel my legs?”

He swallowed hard. His eyes lowered—not in avoidance, but in grief. Klaus Mikaelson did not grieve.

That scared you more than the numbness.

“It isn’t… it isn’t that serious,” you forced out, panic accelerating your words. “I can do PT. I can recover. I can go back to school. I can walk. I can—you know I can still dance, right? I can still dance.”

Your voice cracked at the word dance.

Dance was the one thing that made you feel more like yourself and less like the shadow under Caroline’s perfect little sunbeam life. Dance was where Laurie Forbes mattered.

Klaus’s hand tightened on your shoulder.

He still didn’t lie to you.

He didn’t say yes. He didn’t say no.

He just looked at you like the truth was a blade he refused to press into you yet.

And that silence—God, that silence—made your chest cave in.