8.
CAROLINE wrestled sleeplessly between the sheets for the remaining hours of the night. Between her fierce desire to find a way to bring Klaus back, to the simultaneous guilt for involving Hope, and the prospect of leaving her own children (even to find a way to save them)––she circled around different scenarios until the red and pink of dawn leaked into the sky. Caroline rose to lean against the headboard, and eyed Klaus' box on her dresser in the corner of the room. She whooshed to collect it, and settled back into her bed. After pulling out the entire contents, Caroline separated the leather pouch from the personal affects. The letters beckoned her, but she didn't know if she had the courage to do more than touch them. Each home address in his script ear-marked chapters in her life, and she almost feared knowing what could have been, more so than the ignorance she had lived with until that point. What had motivated him to write them? At what point in time? There were some indications––postage stamps with a year on them. The earliest dated back to August 2011––not long after Klaus had made his departure to New Orleans. Perhaps that was the easiest to face; she knew that narrative. After all, Silas had been able to infiltrate her mind and expose her darkest desire to join the hybrid in his new life. Her fingers trembled against the yellowed seal, before carefully tearing it away. It was almost as if the energy in the room relaxed in exhale––as if to say, finally.
Dearest Caroline,
I scarcely know what to write, or how to explain. I am sure the news will have travelled to you by way Katerina or a Salvatore by now. If by some miracle you haven't, I wanted you to hear it from me.
I am to be a father. After an ill-fated affair with Hayley Marshall, I find myself in a predicament I never thought to be possible. At first, I felt incredible anger and battled with denial. Somehow, more than every inconceivable or unforgivable offence I have committed, I fear this will repel you from me for good.
Of all people, I don't deserve to be a parent. I wanted to deserve you, but I now feel shackled by this mistake––more-so than anything else in my life. And you are probably smirking at this notion as you read this; as every dark stain against my name is surely more damning than a child. Least of all one my brother believes could be my redemption.
I wanted to believe that you were my redemption; that my love for you, and every way it has changed me for the better, would elevate me from darkness. I bare my heart to you now, as it may well be my last opportunity to do so. I feel robbed of any chance of a future with you, as I am now faced with bounden duty to my family and this child. I know that you cannot conceive much of this now––perhaps in ten years or so. But you deserve a full life, free of complication; a life where you will be put first, and the love given to you is never compromised. I wanted to be the one to give it to you––and perhaps, in twenty years, I will be free to. But you deserve every happiness, and I will not bring you into the fray of this family drama.
With all my love, and regret.
Yours, Klaus.
Caroline clung to the letter, and a coldness settled through her body. She searched her feelings for how she might have responded as a nineteen year-old … but knew he had been right. She wouldn't have appreciated the gravity of what he had said then––not for a good 'ten years or so'.
"Which must have been why you never sent it," Caroline murmured aloud, knowing he would hear. "I wouldn't have understood."
She folded the letter and returned it to its envelope, and back to the pile of others––all the other messages she had not been ready to hear. Her eyes flickered to the leather-bound stack of resources on the Gemini merge. For now, that was where her energy was better concentrated.
–.–
Gold rays of sun began to press through the trees and crevices of wrought-iron gates when Caroline passed through the Salvatore School entrance. In the building ahead, dozens of children slumbered within the walls of a school. Memories scarred the walls of the old Boarding House, which had been rendered near-unrecognisable over the years––aside from its original facade and key structural elements. Where old weatherboard outbuildings had once slanted in the woods, the was now cleared acres with a sporting oval, gymnasium, external classrooms, and an enormous kitchen garden and greenhouse. In the early days of the school, she used to walk the halls and expect to see Stefan round a corner, or find Damon and Elena groping each other in a nook of the passageway. Sometimes, she thought Bonnie would emerge from the kitchen, muttering something about her lifetime aversion from pancakes. As the years wore on, and the spaces shifted and changed, Caroline found the ghosts followed her around less and less. As her friends lived their new lives, they had remained in touch – but the majority were human. After the horrors and battles in their early adulthood, Elena, Bonnie, and Matt had elected to live as separately from the supernatural as they could manage. Remembering them all in that moment, Caroline felt a poignant pang. After parking her car, she whipped out her phone and tapped Elena's contact.
A groggy voice cracked into the receiver. "Caroline Forbes, do you know what time it is?"
"The sun is awake," Caroline chirped in reply.
"I was on call last night––the last thing I want is to be awake right now," Elena mumbled. She yawned, then paused. "Care, is everything okay?"
Caroline didn't know how to phrase the last couple of days. Weeks. Months. Almost out-of-body, the words blurted out. "Klaus and Elijah are dead."
"Oh," Elena responded softly––much to Caroline's surprise (and relief). "Do you want to come over for coffee? Damon is doing the school and daycare run with Stefanie and Henry."
"No you should rest," Caroline answered, sheepish. "I'm sorry to have woken you. What time are you working today?"
"Not until this afternoon, but I can clear my schedule. Come over for dinner?" Elena suggested.
"I would love that––I've missed you." Caroline chewed her lip, fighting a wave of emotion.
"I've missed you too. Come around 7 PM––the kids will have an early dinner, then it's just us," Elena said.
"That sounds perfect––I'll see you then. Now get back to sleep!"
"Gladly," she chuckled. "See you later Care."
Caroline gathered up Klaus' research and made her way inside. The common areas were warm, on automatic heating, but her office was icy. After cranking up the hydronic panels, Caroline set down her things and left the room to thaw. Aromatic food lured her down the hallway.
When she entered the kitchen, the school's chef was pulling croissants and sourdough loaves out of the oven.
"Good morning Rosa," Caroline greeted.
"Caroline – you're in early?" The 60 year-old Italian woman responded, eyes creasing as she smiled. One of her grandchildren––a witch named Clarissa, in her late teens––attended the school. The family couldn't initially afford the fees, but when Rosa came on board as an employee, they had given the family a substantial discount. The students adored Rosa, so Caroline and Alaric felt they had the better end of the deal.
"I couldn't sleep," Caroline admitted while she perched herself on a stool at the bench. "It's been a long few days."
"So your girls have said," Rosa responded.
Caroline furrowed a brow, hoping Alaric hadn't divulged too much. Then again, they had been involved in the spell to put The Hollow in Klaus, and everyone knew he was dead by now – there would have been a brief in the school assembly.
"You carry much grief," Rosa responded gently to Caroline's silence. She turned on the coffee machine and put fresh grounds into the portafilter. As it ran through the machine, the delicious scent filled her nose – but it was more comforting than satiating.
Caroline went to make general conversation, but quiet footsteps sounded behind them.
Hope entered the room tentatively. "I couldn't sleep."
The two older women smiled, and Caroline motioned to the stool beside her.
"I was looking at grimoires all night, trying to find something––anything," Hope admitted. "But nothing on how to bring someone back from a dimension we don't understand. Everyone has called it 'Peace', but that's not what it's really called. So I don't know if we need to find older grimoires, like from much older countries and civilisations, or if––"
"Hope," Caroline intercepted, and placed a steadying hand on the girl's arm. "Rome wasn't built in a day; we're not going to find the answer today. But, I think Davina and Kol could help. Can you get in touch with them? They will come if you ask."
Hope nodded eagerly. "Of course! I'll call them now." She looked to Rosa, and the beckoning tray of croissants. The chef folded one in a napkin and passed it over to her.
"Come down again for some real breakfast later on," Rosa instructed.
Hope agreed, and darted off.
When Hope was out of ear-shot, Caroline face-planted into her hands. Rosa pushed a fresh cup of coffee over the bench, and looked over the headmistress' shoulder.
"A cup for you too, Mr Saltzman?" she asked.
Alaric thanked her, and took up the seat Hope had just occupied. He turned a hard eye on Caroline. "Are you going to see your daughters?"
Caroline lifted her head, and rose her arm slowly, deliberately looking at her watch. "It's 5:30 AM––would you like to risk Lizzie's wrath if I woke her this early?"
Alaric conceded. "Touché." He took the mug from Rosa and sipped from it. Deliberated. "We need to talk."
Caroline grimaced. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing. Meet me in my office?" She slipped off the stool and picked up her coffee.
"Now I feel like I'm the one being told off," Alaric supposed, and Rosa quirked an eyebrow.
Caroline softened, and shook her head. "Not at all. I just have some important files I need to go through with you."
Alaric followed her out of the kitchen. Within the safety of Caroline's office, they could talk freely.
"Am I right in hearing Davina and Kol Mikaelson's names uttered back there?" He asked as soon as the door was shut.
Caroline's eyes darted around them, worried they would somehow be overhead. "Yes."
"Care, why?" Alaric pressed, almost exasperate.
"Because there might be a way to bring Klaus back, and he doesn't want Hope to have any part in it. He wants her to move on––to forget. And Davina is the only person who can do that, because Freya would refuse to erase Hope's memories," Caroline explained. "So I insinuated to Hope that Davina and Kol could help us. But it's a lie."
Alaric pinched his forehead with his thumb and index finger. "Klaus doesn't want Hope to resurrect him, he wants her to move on––you used present tense for a dead man. What is going on?"
Caroline took a steadying breath. "There might be a way to bring Klaus back to life," she revealed slowly. "At the moment, his soul is tethered to mine––maybe for forever. So right now, it's like he has a foot in the door to this … dimension." She attempted to stay as resolute as possible, but watched the anger growing in Alaric's face and feared the outburst. By time she finished speaking, it was nearly in a whisper. "I promised Hope I would help her find a way to bring him back. But Klaus doesn't want that. So I need to make Hope forget it's even a possibility."
Alaric's lips were pressed in a thin line. "You're not seriously considering resurrecting that bastard, are you?"
Caroline couldn't find the words to defend herself, but her expression betrayed her anyway.
"You have got to be fucking joking!" he snapped.
"Ric, it's not my priority. Klaus left me lots of research and leads about the merge and our girls, and that is what I will be focussing on, I swear–"
"Klaus left you research … what the fuck was he doing nosing into our business, my children–"
"Our children!" Caroline hissed, wary of the disturbance they were causing. "He was looking out for us, for me. He knew more than we did about this, and has encountered covens with similar curses for centuries. We wouldn't even know where to start looking for a way to undo this if he hadn't helped. So get off your fucking high-horse … and let me show you what he found."
Alaric huffed a decisive exhale. "So you're not going to waste you life trying to bring Klaus back?"
"No," Caroline lied – but it was firm and believable. Because she wasn't going to 'waste' her life; she could do it. Save her daughters, and the man she loved. She could do both.
A/N: I am probably the most sporadic author to ever update on this site! But I need you all to know, that I have seen each of your reviews and messages, likes and follows, over the past months and they all mean the world to me. This story is for my readers, and I hear you. While I have my writing mojo back and a bit of time off work, I am churning out words like a mad thing. I will update as soon as I can. Let me know what you think of this chapter, and where you would like to see the story go! It truly does have an impact, and I factor your feedback into the storyline as much as I can. Positive reinforcement in reviews always inspires me to write! Thanks for reading and for all your support! G x