Droplets of scarlet blood, still warm from the body that they had vacated, dripped down from his fingertips onto the floor. They slowly found their way back to each other, forming a pool of reflective red that gathers by his unmoving feet. There would be many more of these to come.

When they had been on their way here, to rescue her, his mind had been derisively blank save for the end game goal; find her and keep her safe. Now, as he stood there still shaking from anger, alone, his mind was wiped clean except for one single feeling; anger.

It was everywhere, it consumed him.

Maybe he had known, that's why it had been easy for him to focus entirely on one object. In the back of his mind there was a sickening, plaguing thought, You won't win. You can't win. You never win. The world would never let you be this happy.

You will loose her.

His hand had only been a single inch from her when he heard the terrifying crack. Terrifying because it signified that one of his only fears had been realized. That single inch, that miniscule parameter, a breath in time when he had been too late, cost him her life. Cost her her life.

After that, after he watched her body fall, but he caught her, for fuck's sake he caught her limp and empty and weak body before it hit the floor, it all came in blurry images as time slowed down. Her blue eyes, looking upwards, not at him, not seeing him. She wouldn't ever see him again. He watched as the last vestiges of life drifted away from the body that he had cherished so much, leaving him behind with nothing but a shell.

An empty shell that tore apart the heart he had just found out he had into small tiny shreds.

And then, nothing. He doesn't remember standing up, shaking with an anger that will forever remain unparalleled, and ripping Mikael's heart out of his body before the man could even blink. (How couldn't he have known, what it took to kill the demon in his life? Just kill his one true love). He doesn't remember slaying every other person in the room until he is standing alone with blood dripping from his fingers that still twitch slightly.

He does remember that look, though. The look in her eyes as she starred at him while life left her.

He doesn't think he could ever forget that.

-j-

He stands back and watches the town burn from the flames he had set upon it. He can hear the people's screams, he can hear as the buildings collapse under the intense heat, he can feel the pain as his anger levels an entire town.

Is this how she felt? Right before life was ripped from her? He hopes that it is. That these people are going through what she had to. That her death does not go unavenged, that she dies without consequence. He has made sure of that.

Because he promised he would, and he should keep the last one he had made while she was still alive, even if the others were damned, shouldn't he?

"She dies, and this entire city burns."

His childhood home, this was one of his childhood homes. He had liked it here, had enjoyed playing with his siblings here. Had fostered an almost stable relationship with his parents here.

No longer a choice.

Now, his sister was dead too. His baby sister. His forever and always. And his girl. His love. His forever and always… both of them dead.

At times it cripples him.

He walked away from the carnage, away from all that was torn from him.

But he never leaves it.

-j-

He sat in the worn armchair that practically curved to his body, small bits of fabric split from the original. He sinks into it. His one hand dangled from the edge, carelessly. In his other hand rested a glass half full of straight whiskey. And he nearly smiled at the irony of it, but didn't.

Perhaps he had known, known that it he would be the end for her. That he would wreck her. That for her, he was the last. It had always been his hope that it would be different, that he could be different, for her. Gentler, stronger, better. He had held onto this until the very end when he realized he had dragged her right to hell with him.

And now she was gone.

He had never said sorry. Never even had the chance. Sorry for all that he had led her to, sorry for all that he had put her through. And damn right he didn't tell her enough what a place in his life she held. She had been his everything. A fleeting second of sunshine in his eternal bliss. But none of that mattered now.

She was gone.

His first memory of her was probably the most vivid, just because she was at her brightest before she met him. Damn, how much he had wanted to make her his. And damn, he did. Something so pure, light, right, in this world and it was destroyed in his hands.

He had watched her leave this earth, leave him.

When she had needed him most, maybe the only time she had actually needed him, he had been absent. Weak. Gone. Damn, what that cost him.

And there he was, in that god damn armchair.

-j-

Now, he's reaching for her things, the little things she had never realized she left behind (a hair pin, an unknown key, a tube of blood red lipstick that he's certain he can remember staining his lips), now permanently, and he's throwing them to the flames.

Now, she's standing in front of him, her arms reaching out, a true siren to his blank eyes. He's leaning forward, to accept her, to comfort her, to hold her. But then, she's gone and a white wall faces him that's as empty as he is.

"I'm incapable of letting go."

"She has to live."

Now, he's clutching his head, the piercing pain that never seems to leave throbbing harshly, a not so gentle reminder of what he did.

Now, his hands are shaking as he releases the woman from his hands, one whom only weeks ago he would have snapped in half without a single thought. But her ghost haunts him.

"I love you."

"I trust you."

Now, his family is there. Or, what's left of it. Unable to fathom as to why he isn't drinking, isn't moving, isn't living. No, no, no. He doesn't deserve that, he doesn't deserve to live while the dirt is still broken and fresh around her grave.

"Why? Why this girl? Why does she matter so much?"

"She was mine."

Now, he holds the bracelet that he gave her. The only thing he has left of her. His thumb circles the small pendant nestled in the middle, scraping over the intricate sun etched into it. He would never admit that a tear smears this image.

Now he stands over the spot where that sun burned out.

-j-

Oh god, oh god. Where am I?

At first, everything is too blurry and a thick fog surrounds her that chokes, that blinds, that numbs.

It will be days, weeks, months, before she can even become aware of herself, her surroundings.

She'll get there.

-j-

The world had lost two beautiful souls that day. One that had made the ultimate sacrifice for the other to be able to return one day, at the right time.

For Stefan, all he felt was pain for a very long time.

But, as with everything, it slowly began to fade and pass. Time does heal, in some ways.

Sometimes things are okay and he walks in the sunlight with Elena and he can feel normal and not remember what happened those 95 years ago.

Sometimes, though, when he lies awake above the covers and shivers, not even the warmth of his lover's hands can draw out the coldness of his own.

It's her, she still haunts him. He'll never forget the way her hair was made of sunlight or the way her eyes made him swim in her turbulent emotions.

Sometimes he thinks its better that she's gone, everything burned so god damn bright when she was there. Things with Elena are simpler, and that's good. She makes great pancakes.

But other times he rips holes through walls and people's necks and wonders how in the hell he could have ever let her go without him.

-j-

"Hey, brother." Kol murmurs gently as he sits down beside his elder brother. The silence that greets him for a moment speaks volumes. This is common, these silences. It's when Kol knows that Klaus isn't there with him. Physically yes, but mentally his with her. His mind is not on earth. It has extended, far beyond anyone had ever known. It was with her.

They look out onto the city that they helped to build. For many years they both avoided it, and each other. And then one day a silly human un-daggered Elijah, and the three found each other again.

It was hard to rebuild upon the ground that had swallowed so much of their pain, but they did it, and together.

"Kol." It is a day like this, dark, dreary, rain consumed, that Kol understands why Niklaus does not move on. Why he does not try to search for another, as Kol and Elijah have urged him to do. It is days like these that Kol can feel her presence looming, bright sunshine and sharp wit. He doesn't really have the right to miss her too, but he does.

Not as much as Rebekah.

"Does it still hurt?" Kol asked quietly, glancing towards his brother. Outwardly, one would never be able to guess what he was going through. But a Mikaelson's mind is a dark sea.

"Is she here?" Klaus has asked this question a countless number of times. Kol swallows on a dry throat.

"No."

"Then it will hurt."

-j-

While he often drowned in his misery, she felt next to nothing. Like a floating mirage, only once or twice a decade did she chance across the real world in her mindless and uncontrolled wanderings.

Sometimes she would see him in these occurrences, see his anger put forth on others, see his hidden anguish. She wanted to reach out to him, comfort him, but her limbs weren't her own and his image would be stolen from her eyes moments later.

In other instances she would be shown Elena or Stefan or her old friends. Glimpses into her life that teases her, that put a pain in her that would last for what seemed like forever.

She watched as they all moved on with their lives, eventually, as the city changed and their lives morphed with it. Except for him.

He never moved on.

As time passes she becomes aware that there is nothing. She feels nothing, sees nothing, hears nothing. She is alone.

And Caroline thinks, Oh god, I really have done it. I'm in hell.

But no, this is not that.

There is no real physical pain, no hurting.

She is a mindless swirl of what last vestiges of her soul that are left. She is carried through limbo for a time span that is unbeknownst her.

She doesn't feel it as the weeks, months, years pass by. She has no earthly attachments. But as each day passes, on more strand grows. A strand bound my magic and sacrifice that fights to connect, to realign.

And then, one day, she feels something. Pain. It is almost welcome in her empty abyss. But she knows it is not her own pain. It is his. He is in pain. And she could feel it.

She wasn't aware of when her mindless existence would end, only knowing that each passing of time was full of numbing longing and the feeling of having lost something important

She had become the figure from his painting; tempestuous and heady but with little to no earthly attachments. Except for him, of course. She was still connected to him.

-j-

As fates would have it, the twisted truth was that Caroline had to change to end her purgatory, she had to become a spirit of the underworld and then break it. And as no spell is without consequence, Klaus had to change to be with Caroline as well. Her freedom hangs on his decisions.

For lovers such as them, so in sync, halves of the twisted whole, the hybrid curse put on Klaus was also the curse put upon Caroline. It tied both of them back from entering into their true form. For Klaus, a werewolf, for Caroline, a whole being, and something else.

With the due passing of time Klaus broke this curse and fully transformed into the Original Hybrid. And it was only then that Caroline began to feel something real in the dark abyss, began to feel a change. Every day she became more aware of her limbs that actually were still there, of her heart that still pounded and of her brain that still thrived. And then, one day, she stood on solid ground in a very unfamiliar place.

She didn't know where she was – but she knew who she had to find.

Author's Note:

Was this chapter complete bull? The whole vague plot building thing is my style, but is it crap? Looking for a little help here.

Also, I know, I know. It's late, again. And I even know what it feels like, to be waiting and waiting for an author to update their story and it's just like, what else could you possibly be doing. Wink, wink. We all have lives to attend to, oops. xx

Review all you like, as much as you like, and let me know all of your thoughts. Some of you have mentioned that you're a little fuzzy about whats going on, hopefully this cleared some of that up for you. If not, PM me or write it in your review.

I love and appreciate you all more than you know.

Coming up on the final bend here you guys. BTW I enjoy happy endings as much as the next person.

Best,

J.