At first, Caroline was unaware of everything that had happened. Time had a funny way of inciting you to span along with it, making the distance you travelled grow farther and farther from home and from people- to the point where the paths you took become an unraveled mess of yarn, no longer resembling the familiar.
She hadn't heard from Stefan in a month, which was fine, except his blog had stopped updating- it was a riveting insight into his travels and a way for Caroline to still "know him"- and when she shot him a text… then another… and another… and finally a call… and got no reply, she began to worry.
Three flights and a so-nervous-her-bottom-lip-had-fang-marks-in-it taxi ride later, she was outside the door to Stefan's Chicago apartment. The last of her knocks was already devoured by the oppressive heat in the hallway, and instead of waiting for a response she had little faith she'd get, Caroline barged her way into the apartment.
It was stale, with newspapers dating many months prior littering an Ikea coffee table, and drooped, dead plants giving off foul scents from in front of the kitchen window.
"Stefan?"
Something led her to the bedroom- a desire for answers, or the instinctual urge to follow her senses, Caroline knew not- and that's where she found him, a soft smile on his face- he had finally found happiness in a fellow vampire named Lisette, a vivacious ex-Spaniard with a taste for adventure and not a drop of doppelganger blood to be found- and the signs of desiccation marring his skin. Except he wasn't just catatonic from lack of blood- nor was Lisette, whom Caroline found on the bathroom floor, toothbrush still in her hand- but still. Gone.
As were Damon and Elena, when Caroline had found them in their mobile love dungeon, parked in the heart of the Badlands, the rotting corpses of their victims, or whatever they called the humans the fed upon- the only reason Caroline went looking for them in the first place was to tell Damon his brother was dead- and instead of loss, Caroline only felt satisfaction that they were no longer around.
But still, Stefan's death was a wound that lingered much like her mother's had been all of those decades ago, and Caroline found herself locked in her Wembley estate, finding the overcast weather of the area appropriate for her grieving.
It- stupidly- didn't dawn on her that an Original must have died for her the Salvatores and Elena to all three be dead, until there was a knock on her door.
"Miss Forbes?" The tall, accented man asked when she opened the door. He was quite enticing, with his amber curls and striking green eyes. The way a smirk ghosted the edges of his smile, led Caroline to believe that yes, he knew just how attractive he was. It immediately turned her off to him.
"Can I help you?" She snapped, finding herself suddenly much too busy (taking full advantage of her Netflix account was a commitment she took seriously) to bother with the human before her.
"I have a package for you, from Klaus Mikaelson."
And just like that, the wood frame became mulch under her fingertips, and her spine become a metal stronger than the now mutilated brass doorknob.
Because Klaus wouldn't bother with a delivery boy.
Because Klaus would just drop it off with a soft knock on the door and whisper of his cologne on the wind.
Because Klaus walked away all those years ago, leaving her searching for buttons in the foliage- because he couldn't bear to stand the sight of her clothed after seeing just how beautiful her body was, so he had to leave then- and he hasn't talked to her since.
With all of these thoughts crowding her mind to the point that they fell from her head, and down her throat, lodging there or continuing on to her stomach, making her sick, Caroline nodded her head absently as the man handed her a large, black box.
She heard him mumble something about contacting him further, but Caroline was slamming the door and slumping to the floor, thankful for the cherrywood against her back.
Atop the box was a letter, and Caroline hated how deja vu mocked her, reminding her of a time when life was as complicated as weighing the weight of a blue dress, given to her by the devil, against her skin against the social suicide of wearing the same outfit twice.
When she opened it, shaking so bad the parchment protested, wavering before her eyes, Caroline let out a breath, hating how seeing his handwriting could have such an effect on her when he had been out of sight (mostly) and out of mind for near on three centuries.
Caroline. You're wondering why you're still alive and well when so many of your line of Original are now dead. All you need to know is that Voodoo is quite the craft, and that it would take a stake of white oak to dim your light, but we'll get to all that later. It's quite strange, after all this time, that I can still see the way your brow must be furrowed in rapt concentration as you try to figure out my goal right now, but that's just one of the many things I adore about you, sweetheart: you've already figured it out. You knew the moment you opened the door, and for that I am so terribly sorry. I was allowed to write this, you see, yet it is rushed and my words fall short- and I am more petrified than you will ever know- but I am dead, Caroline. Open the box at everything will make sense. Know this, Caroline: It was always you. You were my last thought, the last painting I created with my mind's eye- it will be the moment you looked at me, when you were wrapped in my arms, and I knew that you would love me one day. I'm sorry, again, that we'll never see that, but I must end this here. Open the box, Caroline. Yours, even in death, Klaus.She dropped the letter and lost herself in the onyx wrappings of the box before her. It reminded her of a coffin, and she felt that opening it would show her Klaus as a skeleton, or a pile of mush, and it took her several hours to pull it closer.
Numb- I am dead, I am dead, I am dead, I am dead, I am dead- she lifted off the lid, and her eyes widened at what was inside.
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/&/
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Caroline, I feel out of control, like my life isn't mine and my body is someone else's to control. I have not felt this way since I was a boy, scared to breathe lest Mikael found offense in it- and that is how I feel now: petrified. So many centuries I have spent being the dominant creature, and lately, I feel the way krill must as the looming shadow of a whale makes their death nothing more than a fathomless nothingness. How do such small creatures even begin to understand such finite destruction? I know I can't. The shewolf Hayley… I think she is a part of it, much less unawares than I initially give her credit for… and it is with that admission that I must confess to you a certain chain of events that happened: Before I left for New Orleans, I was drunk and angry at you for desiring my arms to make you feel better, after titling me a monster, and I had the wolf in my house. I had every intention of killing her once I learned what I needed to know, but as I continued to drink, the most queer of sensations took over me. Clouded by some unknown fog, I was succumbed by the need to have her. It disgusted me, and I couldn't even imagine it was you, for bile lingered in the back of my throat and I was deadened to the sensation. However, upon my arrival in the city, I was confronted by Elijah and the wolf. A group of witches had performed a mystical test and "confirmed" that my child grew in her womb. It was wrong, Caroline, that I was suddenly thrust into the position of impending fatherhood, and stared upon by my brother, like I was some disappointment, and that not readily believing this lie- for I know that's what it was. He looks at me like my stepfather did, Elijah. He is so high and mighty, and while he loves me, he sees it his role to rid me of the monstrous qualities I have, but I am neither of their sons. The only time I feel truly loved, is when I am a wolf and the moon let's me sing to her while she keeps my pelt warm. It has been three days since the traitor and the wolf pulled me into the politics of the witches, and the feeling of fogginess has not left me. Someone is messing with me, sweetheart, and that is why I decided to journey to New Orleans. Away from you. I am sure this is what they want, but they don't know that the only part of me they can hurt is in Mystic Falls, with you. -Klaus. Caroline, I am not myself as of late, but I received your graduation announcement in the mail. My fingers hovered over the button of my phone that would finalize my purchase of a ticket to England. There is history there, and a mix of everything you could possibly need to excel in life. Sometimes I forget how incredibly young you are, and that things like graduation and college matter. I hope you don't hate me for sending your transcripts to every major college in England, but it is only the application fee I contributed: getting accepted will all be your doing. … I will see you soon, and keep these thoughts at the back of my throat. You are my pride and joy, the reason I am smiling for the first time in weeks. Congratulations, my incredible, blossoming woman. The world, like myself, is yours. -Klaus. You kissed me back. When I smile, I feel your lips on my cheek. However long it takes. You were elated that Tyler was free, yes, but you kissed me back. One day…Years of letters.
Decades.
Centuries.
More boxes came, and soon Caroline's home was full of them, as if she were moving- and oh, she was moved, but in such a way that mountains and glaciers fall into the sea.
She was swallowed by a man who only survived in words.
And with each new delivery, the same man stood on the other side of her door, and after a while of Caroline ignoring him, she snapped one day, wanting to focus on anything other than the way Klaus was haunting her.
"What's your name?"
"Ah, she speaks! My name is Dean."
Ignoring his attempt at humor, Caroline studied him: while his looks would have distracted her under any other circumstance, Caroline found them annoying. Why would Klaus pick this person, who did not bear the look of compulsion, to deliver to her such precious merchandise?
"Dean?"
"Short for Uisdean- it means 'forever stone' in Gaelic."
Caroline's blood ran cold.
"How old are you?"
"I'm not going to answer that question yet, Caroline." Darkness flickered behind his eyes, so similar to the man that brought them together. "But I will answer your questions to the best of my ability, if you'd invite me in."
For some reason, she found herself opening the door wider, and Dean squeezed past her, a cheeky smile on his face, as if this wasn't as heartbreaking to him as it was to her.
"You'll want to read this now." He spoke over his shoulder, a white envelope secured between his index and middle fingers.
So, Caroline caught up to him, ripped the envelope from his hand and lead him to her dining room.
They sat on opposite ends of the long table, twenty empty seats spanning between them. But ghosts filtered into the room, and Caroline watched as Stefan smiled and sat towards the middle, then her mother and Bonnie.
Surrounded by the dead, Caroline focused on the undead man across from her, wanting to hide herself from the peripheral view she had of Klaus lingering in the doorway.
Many a time, she caught his visage in the corner of her eye, but she could only take so many of these encounters before realizing that looking for him was never going to end up successful.
Ignoring the heated gaze of her companion, Caroline opened the letter.
Uisdean, I have broken my promise to you every day for near on a one thousand and two hundred years now. Do you remember it as I do? Before I snapped your neck, I said that you will know absolute darkness for a moment longer than was comfortable, and that it would be horrid, but worth it. I promised you an eternity of light, and I want you to know that I am gone, but you and her will remain. I needed someone to be alive with her, when I couldn't, and you are that person. I promised you light, and this is me keeping my word. Caroline is every love of every life I have ever lived, and know that nothing will ever compare to the way I am in tears as I face death without her at my side. I am scared, not to die, but to be in a place where she is not. See, I have seen the light, and it is her. Goodbye Dean. Maybe you'll find in eternity, something I could not.The void that had been growing deep in Caroline's stomach ruptured, and everything it had taken from her was thrown back, sending tears, hot and painful, rolling down her cheeks.
She could not look at Dean, only the black ink that spoke of the way Klaus loved her, after all this time.
A letter, written to a man Caroline did not know, was the only proof she had that his feelings for her were real.
Klaus loved her.
And he was gone, dead with her safe behind his lids.
Everything- Dean sitting across from her- made perfect sense, and anger knew a home in her veins.
"How dare he?" She whispered, unable to find her voice. "How dare he leave me like this."
Age must have taught him well, because Dean sat silently, letting Caroline come to terms with the position Klaus put them in.
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/&/
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Caroline, It has been so many years since we last spoke, and while I will never forget the anniversary of your birth, it saddens me to know that I am without your presence. I woke up this morning, and I have never been as in love with you as I am now. Something tells me that calling you to tell you this would not go over well. It is no bother, because just thinking of you all out of sorts has made me laugh. The sound is foreign, but you being the cause of my every happiness, is not. -Klaus..
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/&/
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Caroline, I have often thought about the way you are as more than just a revelation. Blinded by you, I am, but I am not unseeing, unfeeling. The sun has the ability to burn flesh, and while mine is impervious to that, I am not without its scars. You hurt me deep in a place that has never seen anything but the inside of my ribcage, and has known only how my blood moves through my veins. I suppose I deserve it, though, isn't that right? But how do you fuck me something desperate amidst trees with no tongues, only the whisper of branches, and let me solidify to you how infinitely I love you, and then just walk away? Yes, I know that I am not worthy of your heart, but do not claim to be better than me when we both know that it was never just sex and I was never going to be okay after your lips last left mine. Did you ever think about that day since? It consumes me, and it is a force of nature, and I am at your mercy endlessly, because I truly fell in love with you on that day, Caroline. And you walked away. Did you once look back? My eyes memorized the way your retreating back moved, so I ask you now, did you wait until there was wood and structure between us, to wonder if I was ever coming back? Some days, I do not think about you. It petrifies me to think the cavernous expanse of my love for you could ever dwindle, but I know better than to mistake a volcano for a mountain. Some days, I do not think about you, yet here I am writing another letter that you will never see. It's been a century since we last saw each other. Today, I saw you in Budapest, and I saw the way you contemplated saying hello to me, but everything was wrong for us, was it not? I saw the way you considered another night that ended in goodbyes, but we didn't say hello, so there was no need for any of that.For a long, timeless while, Caroline and Dean sat at her dining room table, unwilling to look at each other, lest they see what Klaus wanted them to find in each other.
Caroline busied herself with letter after letter, searching for any sign of the selflessness in which Klaus spoke with in his message to the man that delivered Klaus's death to her door.
It had to be an elaborate joke, because her Klaus was a selfish, unforgiving man. This was a lie, and Caroline knew it, but she clung to the adamance at this notion, because in this moment, she was seventeen and a year undead, scared by the enormity of affection that one so old could bestow upon her.
"I laughed," Dean admitted, shattering the delicate mask she wore on her face, and she looked up at him, pleading that his words would make this not feel so hard, "when I read it."
Running a hand through his hair, Dean smirked, and Caroline was struck by how similar the action was to that of Klaus. Such a stupid, self-assured gesture, but she saw it for what it was: a distraction.
"What changed?" Her age was in her voice, and Caroline winced, clearing her throat. "Why… why did you come here?"
Dean was all furrowed brows and a tic in his cheek as he swallowed whatever rage now danced in his eyes. "Because, sweet Caroline, Klaus is dead, and while he was not a loving, kind man, he was the only friend I have known. You were worth dying for, to him, and not even I had that. Why am I here? Because he spoke of you like one speaks of their Savior, and maybe I wanted to see you for myself."
Maybe I want to be saved.
Plain as day, Caroline heard what he could not articulate, and she snapped.
"Why am I always the one saving people? Where was your beloved Klaus when I needed to be saved? I walked this earth alone, and he could have come to me in Miami, and in Frankfurt, and Oslo, and any other city we inhabited at once, but he did not!"
Storming from her chair, she lashed out, sending the candelabra flying into the wall.
"His love is a prison, and he is dead and I am still locked away! To hell with him! I hope he deserved to die! This- this is all his fault!"
Screaming, and clutching her chest, Caroline saw only the way ocean waves crashed into her cheeks, and she refused to hear above her caterwauling and acknowledge the sound of her heart groaning under the immensity of just how gone Klaus was.
There would be no more encounters in foreign cities, and there would be no more letters. When she reads the last one, that would be the end of Klaus, and she stilled, staring at the box on the table.
"Get that away from me, Dean. Get out of my house. Leave!"
Flashing away, she collapsed in her bed and fought to find comfort in the feather-down, but only succeeding in lulling herself to sleep with hummingbirds ghosting across her skin.
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/&/
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My heart, I never wanted this to hurt, but we are creatures born of death and forced to bleed pain in order to survive. How stupid of us to think that love would be kind to us? Yours, with every breath I no longer require, Klaus..
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