Title: Solemn Sorrow

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Pairing: None. Gen-fic.

Rating: K+

Summary: "He's dead Kol," she sobbed, and if Kol's heart had been beating it would have stopped dead in his chest. "He's really gone."

"You've reached Rebekah," came the familiar bitchy voice through the receiver, "If I haven't picked up your call, it's because I don't like you, and speaking to you would be a waste of my valuable time. Please don't bother to leave a message, and I'll make sure not to get back to you."

Kol rolled his eyes at the recording. A beep sounded through the cell phone pressed against his ear, signaling he'd been sent to voicemail once again, and he let out a low growl between his teeth, jaw clenching in irritation.

"My patience grows thin, sister," he spoke curtly to the voicemail. His voice was edged in aggravation, and just a tinge of anxiety. "I only came back to this supernatural-melting-pot of a town because you asked me to—at great risk to myself, might I remind you. I was under the impression Nik had went and pulled a dear ol' dad on us, and gotten himself put down by some witches." A faint smirk flickered across his face at the thought, before it faded back to a scowl. "I was rather looking forward to gloating over his desiccated corpse, but you're nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, the Salvatores are running around half-cocked, thinking they can kill us—only difference this time is that they can. I'm in danger just by stepping a foot here, Bekah, the least you can do is answer your bloody phone."

Ending the call (jabbing at the screen with a lot more force than was necessary), Kol shoved the smartphone into his back jean's pocket, squaring his shoulders as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The night air rustled through the trees of the small clearing where he stood, and he caught himself scanning the surrounding foliage for any suspicious movement, any signs someone was nearby. He'd been incredibly tense since crossing the border into the town; every part of him was on edge.

Kol tried to shake himself out of it. He was becoming much too paranoid.

Still. One could never be too careful when entering a town whose residents were out for your blood.

Edgy, one-hundred-percent on the alert, he began to make his way to the outskirts of the other side of the town, where he would find the mansion he and his family had stayed in for a short time. He assumed his family was still staying there, and he could think of no better place to search for his sister. Except for perhaps some hapless boy's bed.

Out in the open of the roads and streets, he stepped out of the coverage of the trees with caution. He was already regretting responding to Rebekah's call—he hated feeling so anxious, and this town was one he hadn't planned to come back to for a long, long time. But nevertheless, here he was; Rebekah had phoned, had begged for his assistance—and he had come running, always having a soft spot for his little sister, different from the rest of his siblings. It had been a stupid thing to do, and he was already wishing he was back in Morocco—it had been much more fun there than here.

And here, he had the populace of Mystic Falls lining up and waiting to fire at him. Here, he was placing himself directly in front of the firing squad, and they had all exchanged their bullets for White Oak stakes. Here, he had a target strapped to his back that was the equivalent of yelling out, "I'M HERE! STAKE ME NOW!" Stepping foot back in this town meant death, plain and simple.

Yet it seemed somewhere down the line he'd gone from homicidal, to suicidal, because that's exactly what he had done. Delivered himself to Death on a silver platter. Kol might be reckless, but he wasn't stupid. He knew the possibility of what he was facing.

It was a strange, surreal feeling; to be constantly glancing over his shoulder, knowing that someone out there had in their hands a weapon that was actually capable of snuffing him out—permanently, not like that pesky dagger trick Nik seemed so fond of. Normally, there was a type of rush, a feeling of power, in knowing that no matter how many times he got beat down he would always get back up. That no matter how bloody, how bruised, still no one could touch him. Not really.

He couldn't remember a time he'd ever been afraid of dying. He hadn't had reason to, before now.

The sudden sound of music split the air, and disrupted the stillness. Kol stopped walking the abandoned road to fish his vibrating phone from his pocket, as the device continued to belt out his ringtone. He glanced at the Caller I.D., swipped the screen to answer.

"Hell-lo."

"Kol."

Kol grinned at the somber voice on the other end, not noticing at first the grim tone. "Elijah!" he exclaimed, feigning extreme shock. "I never knew you got a cell phone! Finally decide to join the rest of us cool kids in the twenty-first century, have you?"

He expected some dry, exasperated comment in return, but none were forthcoming. Instead, the other end of the line was silent.

"Um, hell-looo." He drew the word out. "E-lij-ah…"

"Where are you?" the brother cut him off sharply.

Kol frowned at his tone of voice, at his behavior in general. Mild alarm bells began to ring in his head, but he shrugged it off. Figuring it was just Elijah being Elijah.

"I'm nearby," he answered vaguely. "Is Rebekah with you?"

"Yes," said Elijah, "Look, Kol—" The younger Original heard a sigh emanate from the receiver, and then heard Elijah take a shaky breath. "Kol, something… something's happened."

"What?" He frowned. "What are you going on about?"

Elijah sounded tired. Weary. Kol could imagine him scrubbing a hand over his face as he spoke. "It… it concerns Niklaus." Pause. "Look, Kol, I'd rather not do this over the phone. Could you meet me?"

Kol's frown deepened, but he agreed. "Where at? The mansion?"

"No. Rebekah and I are further in town, near Wickery Bridge.

"Wickery Bridge? Why there?"

Another sigh. "Just meet us, Kol. I'll explain everything then."

Kol gnawed on his bottom lip. Worry squirmed in his gut, his instincts telling him whatever Elijah wished to speak to him about, it wasn't good. He nodded, forgetting his brother couldn't see.

"Alright. I'll be there."

They were huddled under a foliage of trees when he found them, feet away from the bridge. They stood close together, Rebekah with her eyes closed as she leant her forehead against Elijah's shoulder. His head was bent, as he attempted to offer her silent support.

He approached them slowly, warily. Rebekah turned at the sound of his approach, and Elijah looked up. The first thing he noticed was the tear tracks staining Rebekah's cheeks, and Elijah's red-ringed eyes. Their faces were lengthened by grief.

"Kol," Elijah greeted him. His voice was hoarse.

"Brother." He looked between the two of them, suddenly certain he didn't want to know what happened. He asked anyway.

"What happened?" He looked between them. "Where's… where's Nik?"

Elijah closed his eyes, face pained. Rebekah's cerulean blues flooded with tears. Her watery eyes met his, a hand pressed against her lips to hold back sobs, and it felt as if a stone had dropped into his stomach. Suddenly, he was certain he knew what she would say next.

The floodgates broke. Tears poured down her cheeks and passed her lips. Her face crumpled, and she clutched Elijah's arm like a lifeline.

"He's dead Kol," she sobbed, and if Kol's heart had been beating it would have stopped dead in his chest. "He's really gone."

She collapsed to the ground in a fit of tears, and Elijah lowered himself to his knees by her side, shushing her and offering comfort. Kol heard none of it. There was a loud buzzing in his ears that blocked out everything else.

His first reaction, other than pure shock, was of denial. Klaus couldn't die, Klaus was just… Klaus. Invincible. Indestructible. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't. He would know.

Except it was possible. It had happened. The knowledge cut through Kol like a dagger. His big brother was dead.

And he hadn't even been there to stop it. He'd ran, without a care, to absorbed in saving his own skin to care what happened to the rest of them.

All his eternity, he had put up walls. Layers upon layers of walls in his mind, that prevented him from feeling anything. It was better that way. He liked it that way. And I mean, come on; after everything he'd done, could you blame him? Emotions weren't an advantage, they were a curse. So he chose not to feel them.

His family had always been his one and only exception.

"Kol?" Sleepy eyes squinted out through the darkness, locking on the lone five-year-old standing huddled near the bed. "What are you doing up this late?"

"Can't sleep," the little boy proclaimed, bottom lip trembling in fear. "Too dark. Scared. There are—there are monsters."

The older boy sighed, but saw the real terror on the younger child's face. He pulled back his blanket. "Alright. How about you sleep with me tonight. I won't tell Father, it can be our secret."

Eyes wide, hopeful. "Promise?"

A grin. "Of course. What are big brothers for?"

"Kol?" Elijah shook the unresponsive Original's shoulder, peering worriedly into his face. "Kol, say something. Please."

Kol closed his eyes against the memories replaying inside his head. His eyes stung, and the back of his throat burned. He hated this. He'd buried his emotions for over one thousand years, and now it felt like they were assaulting him from all sides. Tearing down his facades, ripping away his mask, until there was nothing left but raw pain. Nik was dead. His brother was dead.

A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, and tracked its way down his face. Brother, I am so sorry… He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for.

"Elijah," he croaked out hoarsely. His brother understood immediately, and soon he found himself pressed against his brother's chest, as violent sobs wracked his body. He didn't know where it had come from, but now that he started he couldn't stop.

"Promise?"

"Of course. What are bothers for?"

Elijah shushed him, whispering reassurances like, "it's okay," or "it'll be alright." Kol could tell from his voice he was crying as well.

But Kol didn't listen to him. Because it wasn't okay, and it wouldn't be alright. Not ever. And Elijah, Rebekah, both of them knew that as well. Their brother was dead, and there would be no making that alright.

Not ever.

A/N:

I don't know what this is. Really. I just love Kol, and I love my angst, so Kol-angst is a good thing for me, and I suppose I'm sadistic because I love when my favorite characters are in pain. I know, I'm awful.

Anyway, I always wondered how Kol reacted to Klaus's 'death'. And while I doubt he outright cried, I believe he'd at least be extremely upset, even if he didn't show it.

Please leave reviews! I'm a review-whore :)

Thanks.

–Phoenix*