Author's Note: So, my computer doesn't want to update to . It's strange. Anyways, this is a shout out to my hometown and even has a character based off a friend back there. He definitely embodies that town's spirit, in my opinion.

Disclaimer: Any recognizable details belong to the creators of TVD/TO; I simply borrow what I can to keep the story as close to canon as possible. I do, however, own my storyline.

Hermosa Beach. What a tiny little town in California. But, it's full of people. And a lot of young families, so there will be less attention on a teenager and her little girl. That's how Caroline settled on it. She and hope landed in the tiny little beach town about a week after running out on Stefan. The blonde feels a tug at her heart when she thinks of her friend and the fact that she hasn't heard from him. That likely means that Klaus or Rebekah took action, the thought of which hurts because she knows that means he's been compelled or threatened.

Her thoughts are disrupted when Hope starts gurgling at tugging at a golden curl. "What, little girl? What do you want?" she smiles at the baby, keeping a hand close to her back while she sits herself up. The girls smile and giggle at each other, enjoying a quiet and lazy morning in the old house that Caroline had compelled herself into nearly a month ago. After an hour or so of playing and talking to the baby in her lap, the baby vampire heaves a tired sigh. She's lonely.

This life is harder than she expected it to be. Hope is a huge bonus, the one thing in life that Caroline was never quite able to accept she would never have—a baby. The thought looses a dry laugh internally, as the baby vampire knew that she had never really thought that she wanted to be a mother before she was turned. Thinking back, motherhood was never the idea; she had just expected to have the picket fence life with the perfect family. A gaze down at the sleeping child on her chest is proof that she hardly has the perfect family for the little girl she is trying so hard not to love as her own.

But the life, outside of this embrace, is harder than Caroline had let herself believe it would be. She has felt alone often throughout the years, especially around Elena and the constant drama since the Salvatores had arrived in their lives. But this was an entirely new type of lonely. They had been in California for over a month now, and the normally involved and vivacious vampire hadn't introduced herself to a single soul. After Chicago, and being found and then having to run, she understands now how dangerous it was to be so involved with others before. She is on the run, they are hiding from people who will kill the innocent baby she clutches to her heart as well as the vampire herself. And she was worried about making friends? Caroline has never felt so foolish, she decides now, so naïve.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Caroline gets an idea and slowly stands and moves to lay Hope in her play pen to continue her nap. Once the infant is settled, the teen turns and looks around for what she needs. Grabbing the pads of paper, the envelopes and the packet of photos she had printed from Christmas the week before. Focusing on stilling her shaking hands, Caroline settles back onto the couch and draws a leg up in front of her, settling the pad of pink paper against her knee. The pen hovers above the paper nonsensically before she decides what to write.

Dear Klaus,

I know I shouldn't be writing again. I know that it's dangerous, but I need someone to talk to. I…I realized driving out here from Chicago that I'm alone. And it terrifies me. So I hope you are close to getting a handle on things down there. Because I want to be somewhere else, somewhere that I don't have to be alone and where Hope can be surrounded by the people who love her and not just a pathetic baby vampire who is trying not to spiral out of control.

She almost scribbles that last part out, but she knows that he values her honesty. And that he needs to know how they really are, if they are okay. They may be physically perfect, but Caroline can't help but feel that the psychological welfare of the baby she was charged with was dependent on the blonde herself who didn't know if she could keep it together.

I'm sorry. I know that that isn't something that you want to hear. But I can't help but be honest here, with you. Because I have no one else that I can talk to about any of this. Just letters I probably won't send to you, or the tiny, perfect little girl you created and can't have with you. And I never want to voice these things to her—that I'm falling apart because of the responsibility and the isolation that I'm taking on by taking care of her. I know it sounds crazy but I swear that she understands a ridiculous amount of what I say, and I don't ever want her to think about any of this.

She deserves so much more than that. More than I think I'm equipped to give her. So you need to bring her home and do it yourself, okay? She needs someone to give her the world, and even more than that, she needs her family.

Caroline decides that this letter is going off of the rails. Her last one was so damn happy, and all about Hope like it should be. She needs to get it back on track, so she takes a moment to flip through the photos she wanted to send. A few moments smiling at the memories is all it takes and she lifts the pen again.

So, until then, here are some more photos of what you have missed. Again, I hope you share these photos with the rest of your family. They love her too, you know. So don't be selfish. The top picture, obviously, is the tiny Christmas tree we had. There are only about five ornaments on it, but they are all Hope's. One is from Hallmark and is just her name, but the rest are her hand prints, or feet prints, or photos of her. I will save them all for you guys to use next year, of course.

The next picture is her face before she opened her first gift. She was so confused, didn't know what to do. It was adorable. I have a video of it too, on my phone. So I will show that to you when we finally see each other. But the paper, I don't know if you can tell, but it has these little glittery snow flakes all over it and she cared way more about trying to grab those than about opening the presents. But I got her a ton of stuff. I think you can see some of them stacked up in the first picture. She got books, toys, and a ton of clothes. Rebekah would be jealous of this girls wardrobe, let me tell you.

The third and fourth pictures are just more shots of Hope trying out this whole opening gifts thing. And then theirs one of her eating a huge Christmas cookie, snowflakes again. (Are you seeing a theme here? Maybe, reminiscent of a lonely snowflake you once painted? I try to keep you involved, even though you can't be here.)

She doesn't comment on the fifth photo, staring at is as she runs her fingers over the names on the gifts. She and Hope had spent days held up in the house making plaster casts of the baby's tiny hands and feet to make ornaments and gifts for the Original family. The package for Hayley was bigger, and held a small teddy bear with a voice box that played ten seconds of Hope babbling and giggling in the Build-a-Bear store at the mall. Klaus' box had a video disc that Caroline had had made at some video store on their way out from Chicago. The car had broken down and they spent a few days in Utah with little to do so the blonde had created a project for her friend.

She couldn't imagine the pain that the Original family were feeling, not being able to be here for any of Hope's firsts. They never thought they would have a baby to dote on, and they had had one thousand years to believe that. So, she had made a video. It wasn't anything fancy, just a bunch of shaking camera shots of Hope figuring out some kind of toy or watching the other, bigger kids at the park play or jump. She had video of her first roll over, her first time sitting up and even pulling herself to her feet against the couch. A close up on the baby's mouth shows her first tooth, another her first three teeth. The entire video is only about twelve minutes long, but she wants to get as much documentation for them as she can.

The rest of the pictures are pretty self-explanatory. We tried to make pumpkin pie, rather unsuccessfully. We watched the New Year's fireworks from a huge armchair in the window of our new house. And we have walked every pathway through this little town we landed in. I think this will be a good place for her to grow for a while. And there is no chance of any of the people from home finding us here.

On that topic, I need to know that you didn't hurt him. I never should have gone to his apartment. And Stefan didn't mean any harm. So when you win this and bring us home, I need you to be able to tell me that my friend is unharmed, Klaus. He was your friend for a long time, and he is my closest friend. So, please, don't hurt him.

This letter has lost any sense of order, hasn't it? I don't even know why I am writing it. I just…I miss you. All of you. And home. And I need some kind of connection to something. So here this is. I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are able to take from it the strength for your fights that we are constantly sending to you.

Please, be careful. All of this is for nothing if you get yourself killed before you can hold your daughter again. Before you can bring her bring us home.

Love,

Caroline

The blonde shakes her head while she stuffs the pages and photos into an envelope. She's not sure what she is thinking sending this, what she was even thinking when she wrote it. But she knows that he needs this connection to them, as much as she needs this connection to him and his family. So, with that in mind, she addresses the envelope and stuffs it inside another. On a new sheet of paper, Caroline scratches a note to her mom.

Mom,

Oh, mommy. I miss you so much. And I can't believe that I am crying already. I can't tell you why I left, just that I am okay. I promise. I will be home, but I have no idea when. It's not just me that this is all dependent on, but everything is fine. I just had to get out of town for a while. So I did. But I need a favor. There is another letter in here, and I need you to send it for me. From inside Mystic Falls. I can't tell you why, but I need people to think that I am at home if they find that letter. It's the best way to keep me safe, okay? Thank you so much, Mom. I miss you so much and I will call as soon as I can. I promise. Just, please, don't tell anyone that you heard from me? I need some time alone, without everything that happens at home.

I love you, Mom.

Caroline

Stuffing the note into the envelope, Caroline seals the paper pocket before she can think herself out of it. She has just put the pages aside when Hope gurgles and she turns her attention to the tiny girl. Before long, the girls are dressed to go out into the California winter and the baby vampire has tucked her ward into the stroller with a thermal blanket and locked the door behind them.

The twenty year old blonde steels her nerves and makes her way onto the sidewalk determined to find some kind of life in this tiny beach town because as much trouble as it may cause her, Caroline is a people person. And as it didn't seem as though the ancient hybrid was going to call them back east any time soon, the girl needed a life. And Hope deserved a childhood. That was really the least the vampire could do for them, she decided, making her way down the street. The letters wind up in the mail box outside the tiny post office and the girls end up at the beach. The sand is cold and damp but there are dozens of people playing on the expanse of beach. A Frisbee crashes against the stroller while Caroline and Hope watch the waves a few feet away and the skittish blonde whirls around violently.

"Sorry about that! My friend has a horrible arm, we didn't mean to scare you," the boy reminds the blonde of Matt, striking her with a homesick pain through her chest while he speaks. She swallows thickly while he reaches a hand out for her to shake, "I'm Zacc."

"Nice to meet you, Zacc. I'm…Rebekah," the name falls clumsily off of her tongue to her own ears, but Caroline doesn't want to use her own name again, not until she feels like herself. Rebekah gives her a sense of strength that she doesn't feel anymore so she opts to fake it for now. Her voice raises an octave when she addresses the joyous bundle in her arms, "And this gorgeous thing is Hope." Hope, to her credit, isn't nearly as welcoming to the man, and turns a furrowed brow that she definitely got from her father on the surfer.

The smile she offers isn't near as flirty as the one she receives, but Caroline vows to form this connection to the land of the living. They need to live, after all.