It happened in the south of France, the moonlight casting a powder white glow over the countryside. One minute he's feeding off the poor tourist who's car broke down and the next he's sure he's been staked.

Though- he thought sardonically - his attacker was an amateur, for the sake was far below his heart it would seem.

He glanced down and was mildly surprised to see no weapon penetrating his chest. A witch perhaps? Elijah carrying out some ill-conceived haphazard plan to kill him? No, Elijah would do better than this. One of Mikael's followers?

He looked around, eyes scanning the area but finding nothing, yet he still felt it. It was as though a cable cord was running through him, tethering him to… To what?

He dropped the tourist carelessly to the ground and sniffed the air, noting only the farm miles off, otherwise he was alone.

… Curious.

Hands at his side and closing his eyes he humored himself, taking this invisible cord with his mind alone. He felt the great distance between himself and the other end.

The date was October 10th, 1992 and suffice to say he was confused.

He ignored it for years, something that was rather easy to do for a vampire of his age. Years meant nothing, especially when you're scouring the earth just looking for that one face. The doppelganger that had eluded him for 500 years now. Katerina would pay dearly when he finally found her but he found a great pleasure knowing her, along with the others who hid from him, lived in a constant state of turmoil. Always looking over their shoulders and just waiting to see him. And of course when it suited his fancy, when he was bored or frustrated, he would go on the hunt.

He was in Brazil four years after the 'France Incident,' as he'd come to call it, when he felt a strange tug on that cable cord he'd learned to ignore. A very tentative one, a shy and curious pull still at a great distance before he was released and wondering once again just what the hell was wrong with him.

He'd be lying if he said it didn't frighten him in the least.

There are rumors he hears in Russia. Whispers amongst the supernatural community that he begins to pick up on. The vampire who hunts vampires was put down by a Bennett witch they say. He grabs the loudest vampire, the one who roared with laughter above even the most obnoxious music in the club. He compelled the vampires tell him everything he heard, who were his sources and what did he know. The man didn't seem to realize he was under compulsion and began to spew everything, his comrades in the background confused by the strangers power.

But they watched curiously and at a distance as the man tells Klaus everything he knows. The witch who was powerful enough to subdue Mikael before he could find something he'd been looking for. He'd heard it from an old friend, a witch who had picked up on the energy this other witch had used in the spell. Some place in North America, though he wasn't certain just where.

Klaus asks him if that's everything he knows and the man's heart is ripped out before he finishes nodding his head.

The others behind him growl, stepping forward prepared to avenge their fallen friend.

The leader of the supposed group steps forward with a false sense of confidence. "Look here friend," he says in his native tongue, "I'm over 400 years old. Do you know what that means?" His head is off before he has the chance to answer. Klaus slaughters the room in under a minute, leaving the bloodbath in his wake but uncaring. Mikael subdued? If only he had a white oak stake and he can make it permanent.

He thought of tracking down his exact resting place and making sure it was secure but 1000 years of running had taught him not to trust a stranger's lead. He wouldn't put it past Mikael to start the rumor himself, give Klaus a false sense of security so that he could track him more easily.

He was just about to leave the slaughter, uncaring of the mess he left behind, when a flash of red hair caught his attention.

He pressed his lips and put on a fake smile as though he were actually happy to see her. "Sage," he hissed out, "so good to see you. I'm afraid Finn's not with us right now, would you like me to leave a message?"

She snarled. "Just let me have him."

Klaus thought of the three coffins hidden in a full warehouse, hundreds of large cargo boxes and his siblings (half siblings) tucked away safely deep in the mess. Now if only he could get Elijah and with Mikael possibly put down he could focus on what truly mattered now. Doppelganger.

"Now why I would I do that? And truly Sage it amazes me that you haven't moved on after nearly 900 years. What is it, sire bond?"

He could hear the growl nearly bursting from the back of her throat and wanted to laugh but also felt a flicker of curiosity, just a flicker on how somebody as old as Sage acted like such a teenager in love.

"You think I don't know what a sire bond looks like? I've had several through the years when I turned those who thought they were in love with me. What I had with Finn was deeper, Klaus, Soulmate."

He scoffs, teenager in love.

He's been tempted to kill Sage several times in the last 900 years. She only popped up every other century, always wanting the same thing. A reunion with her one true love, as she called his dear older brother. Every time he debated killing her, about tearing her heart out he remembered that someday, some marvelous day he would finally break his curse and find a way to kill Mikael. Then, and only then, would he reunite his entire family. There would be bad blood between them, sure.

Rebekah would get over it eventually. She was resilient that way. Kol would hold a grudge for perhaps a decade, maybe two , but then he too would move on. Especially if Mikael was dead. And Finn? The only thing his brother seemed to care about was their long dead mother and Sage.

She raised an eyebrow at him, taking him away from his reflections. A smile twisted on the woman's lips. "Finally, I know something the great Klaus doesn't? Soulmate. That one person you don't just want but need. The unconditional and absolute love for one person, no matter what. A true always and forever."

He waited for a moment, a courtesy if nothing else, before letting out an amused laugh. Stupid girl.

Her face twisted up and he knew he'd angered her with his laugh but she knew well not to push him too far. His brother's love for her would only get her so far with him.

Klaus began to walk away, hoping he wouldn't have to see her for at least another century when he heard her muttering beneath her breath. "I know he's nearby." Forcing him to pause mid-step. In the next instant he had her pinned against the wall, his forearm pressing down against her neck and the veins beneath his eyes lightly pressing up against his skin, ready to show his true nature. "What did you do, love? Compel a couple humans to talk about recent activity?" He wouldn't ask her if she compelled the dock manager who he'd use the most when bringing his siblings into the warehouse.

She continued to glare at him for a moment before hissing out past the pressure he was pushing down on her neck, "I told you, Klaus, Soulmate."

He rolled his eyes and dropped her, wanting to laugh at her continued fancy of that word. Soulmate.

He turned, truly ready to leave now. No doppelganger in this part of Russia, perhaps he would try Bulgaria again? He heard Sage muttering under her breath as he left, and though he didn't particularly care what she was saying he did hear words that made his blood freeze and his unbeating heart feel a jerk. 'Cord,' and that insufferable Soulmate again.

Soulmate. Cord. Soulmate. Cord

A very deep and very sinking feeling overtook him.

He puts it off for another year or so before he finally finds a witch he can trust. She's in the outback of Australia and doesn't seems too surprised to see him. He's heard that she's one of the most powerful witches alive but that was doubtful. Bennett's were notoriously powerful but also well known for their general distaste in vampires. Most of them anyway.

He gave her the light details of what had happened in France and the cord that continued to persist on existing. She nodded thoughtfully as he gave her each detail and then smiled and used the same word Sage had. Soulmate.

He still wouldn't put it past Mikael to do this to him, to find a witch to cast a spell that made him believe something as ludicrous as the existence of a Soulmate. Start a rumor that he was rotting someplace and then wait for Klaus to show his face so that he could put an end to the bastard son.

"And now when exactly did this cord appear?"

He tried to remember details of the time in France before putting it together. That was the year the humans handling Kol's casket had dropped him when bringing him into an old mental institution. He beheaded them all and remembered reading about it in the newspaper. The exact date eluded him but he concluded that the cord had appeared sometime in early October of 1992.

He tells the witch this and she smiles, "her birth."

He ignores her though there is a great anger growing inside of him. "And how exactly do I find her."

"Just follow the cord. It may get blurry at times but eventually it'll lead to her." She looked thoughtfully for a moment before turning her head to the side. "You intend to kill her, don't you?"

Well of course he planned on killing her but it was none of the witch's business.

He must've given it away somehow because the witch's words were careful but imploring. "You should know that a Soulmate's death is the worst thing you could possibly feel. There will be an absence in your life whether you know it or not, whether you like it or not, that will always burden you."

He ignores her, already trying to follow the cord in the right direction.

Before he leaves he snaps her neck for good measure.

He stops in Germany, momentarily forgetting about doppelgangers and those who hunt him. One of his favorite homes is there and he rifles through the top floor den with the large bay windows overlooking the countryside. He digs until he finds one of the sharpest knifes, a blade that would surely kill a human within a millisecond. A flash of pain and then death. He'll give his Soulmate that honor, anyway.

He lands in New York and goes from there, heading down south and once wandering west before quickly returning to the east. He's getting closer and hates the lead anxiety in his chest.

He didn't know what could be so significant about her that the spirits would deem her as somebody so worthy of him. She was surely nothing special, just another human never meant to truly accomplish anything in this lifetime. Nothing that was grand in the scheme of his life, anyway. The witch had warned him that he would lose a part of himself by her death? That there would always be the absence of her life?

He scoffed. She hadn't realized that he'd already been living such a life. From the moment his parents had not only killed him but rejected him there had been an absence in him so great that nothing could possibly make it better. Since Finn's self-loathing and Kol's recklessness or Rebekha's romantic fantasies of running away and then Elijah's actual belief in a rumor he heard that Klaus had dumped their families bodies in the ocean. No, this frail human would have no place in the grand plan that was his future.

The year is 1999 and he's about to kill a child who was fated to have such a terrible connection to somebody like him. If that isn't a tragedy in itself then he doesn't know what is.

He realizes where the cord is leading him and he tries to deny it for several days. While it wasn't named Mystic Falls when he was born it's certainly the same land. However things are decided on the other side, whatever witch spell was used to create the need for two souls to be joined, he's certain they're laughing it up at his expense right now. He takes a reluctant step into the town boundaries and is able to recognize the old landmarks that he once was so fond of as a child.

He ignores the familiar sites and sets his focus on his goal. He goes further into town, the distance between him and her rapidly shrinking.

The knife is heavy in his jacket as he enters a park full of screaming children. Nobody pays him much mind, mothers are too busy reading their magazines and fathers are catching up on the most recent news.

His eyes scanned the crowd, just waiting for a reaction, anything that will point out who this girl is. He feels nothing though. His eyes glaze over each face before he begins to move around the diameter of the park, eyes trained on anybody who might particularly standout.

Movement. Only slight considering the vast ocean seas traveled to get here. He moves towards the edge of the park, the outskirts of the patch of woods where ancient trees stand, perhaps as old as him.

He moves quickly over the pine needled floor when he spots her. His entire body freezes, his very fingers couldn't move despite his commands to do so. His feet wouldn't take him forward and his eyes remained trained on that pale blonde hair. He couldn't see her face but he didn't need to in order to know it was her. Her hands covered her face and her forehead was pressed against the bark of a tree as she counted in a soft yet authoritative voice. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…"

He remained trapped in his own body as he watched her. The knife long forgotten in his jacket. She reached 'thirty' before she swung around, short legs ready to carry her in her search for her playmates.

It was only when her eyes caught sight of him that he was released from his stupor.

He doubted she could feel anything like he did, human senses were so watered down that what to him was a cable cord was probably a string for her. But still, after the initial surprise of her eyes meeting him there's only a flash of fear that quickly melts into curiosity.

He's seen plenty of people grow up through the years, recognizes the features that will lead to works of art and the others that will pass by him without any interest on his part.

She was certainly going to be beautiful someday, that much was for sure.

But she had no right to her future. Not when it was tied with his.

He had a goal that was over a thousand years old and he intended to go through with it no matter the cost. However, he found himself unable to reach into his jacket and pull out the knife. He found himself unable to take the three steps towards her and just… Just end it now. Spirits be damned, he was nobody's tool. He took one step forward and watched the flash of fear return to her eyes. Her bright eyes darted back and forth, attempting to find anybody who could rescue her. He sniffed the air. The closest one was a frustrated mother at the edge of the park trying to get her toddler to stop crying. Her friend had certainly done a good job of hiding.

What was meant to be the end of her came out as a question from him instead. "What is your name?"

She remained tense, ready to dart away should he take another step. Whether it was an automatic response or a diversion to buy herself more time before somebody eventually came looking for her she answered rather shyly. "Caroline."

"Ah, Sweet Caroline." He thought fondly of the song but then saw the fire in her eyes when she snapped rather quickly at him. "No. Just Caroline."

No nicknames? Fair enough

Kill her. Get rid of her as soon as you can, fool.

These voices are silenced as he continues to stare into her eyes. He's surprised that she hasn't looked away but she too continues to watch him, their eyes locked on to one another as though both acknowledging the connection, unfortunate or not, that binds them together. He sinks down into a squat, a tactic he often uses with his enemies when they're lying on the ground and looking up at him just waiting for the end. That was meant to intimidate, the position he's in now is meant to comfort, to bring reassurance that he is not here to harm her, no matter the initial plan.

"You… You seem familiar." She finally tells him, dropping her eyes and doing another scan of the area.

He smiles and he sees her flinch. It's been so long since he smiled without malice behind it that he's not sure he remembers how to do it properly.

"Forgive me love, I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me Nik." Not Klaus. Klaus is the name his father hunts for and Elijah detests.

"You have a funny voice… Nik." Red stains her cheeks in embarrassment, probably thinking she's insulted him.

"It's my accent, love."

"Like, British?"

"Something like that."

So maybe he wouldn't kill her. Perhaps he would leave her here to live her boring human life, to marry a human boy and live out her human life in peace. Away from him. Mikael would never learn of her existence and use her against him in some way just as she would not be able to use him or deter his goals. This he can accept and he's about to walk away and never think of her again, to push every thought of her away and perhaps avoid North America for the next century or so. God forbid she gains immortality. Then he'd truly have to kill her.

He stands abruptly and he watches her jump back. He sees it in her eyes though, that flash of indignation and the preparedness to do whatever it takes to survive. Well, as much a seven year old could manage. She was prepared to fight him if she had to. He smiles and without thinking pushes a stray curl behind her ear, his palm brushing her cheek.

He's sure a bomb has gone off.

There's a moment of absolute stillness, of no sound in the world before he was sure he was dying. But there was no pain which surprised him. He was floating if anything else, trapped in a world that existed beyond the one he'd been born into.

And she was there. He couldn't see her of course but he sensed her. He knew everything about her, her insecurities and her worries. The things that kept her up at night and the things that brought her great joy. The way she wasn't sure what to make of her parents loveless marriage, the fact that her father was slowly becoming more and more distant towards her. Her mother was taking up more shifts, she was the town sheriff and she took great pride in this. She had friends but she was never sure she was good enough for them. She wanted to be better than them and this was something she took great shame in.

In the same way that he was seeing her he realized she was seeing him. Of course he was much more complex than she could possibly comprehend and it fucking terrified him that years of repressed emotions were suddenly being unloaded. The loneliness, the betrayal, the absolute hatred. The rare flecks of enjoyment and actual bliss but overall the paranoia, the severed horse's head and the wanted posters throughout the decades that had his likeness on them and the trophies, the letters written with love but never delivered. The blood. The blood that soaked straight through his skin and seemed to embed itself in his very bones, not his own mind you, but that of his victims.

He wasn't sure how long it had been but he was finally pulling back to the physical world. He slowly began to feel his body again and forced himself to open his eyes. She'd pulled away first and was looking up at him with those terrified blue-green eyes. There was a trail of blood from her nose from such an intense moment. She stared up at him for another moment before collapsing to the ground, her eyes sliding shut as she lost consciousness. He listened to her heartbeat, the steady thud of it reassuring his momentary fear.

He squatted down beside her once more and ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to touch any skin in fear of whatever just happened occurring again.

He heard voices in the distance, her friends who finally realized she'd taken too long to come after them. They would find her on the ground with a bloody nose and the doctors would conclude it was probably just the heat. The trauma of what happened would probably become a repressed memory - or - she would become convinced that it was all just a creation of her imagination.

"Sweet Caroline," he twirled a strand of her hair absentmindedly once more before thoughtfully speaking his next words. "Someday, I'm going to make you a Queen."