~Two Years Later~

Dolores POV

'Klaus?'

'Klaus, open the door.', I said, banging on the door of his apartment, standing in the rain with my umbrella. I knocked three more times, fist pounding against the dewy door. No answer. Not a sound.

I swallowed, looking down at the ground, gripping my hand tight around the handle of the umbrella. Rain drizzled all around me, cars behind me on the road running right through it, sending it splashing onto the sidewalks. I stood in a the puddle on his doorstep, gold studded black rainboots an inch deep in the water.

'Klaus, please.', I begged, feeling more hopeless by the second. Still nothing. I let my head rest on the wood of the door, ignoring the moisture, and breathed out. I let my eyes fall gently shut, pursing my lips as water droplets invaded my hairline.

'Klaus,' I said, hopelessly. 'I miss you.'

Maybe Five was right. He had told me not to go to him. After all, it'd been a year since we'd been in contact with him. Five had guessed he'd probably moved out only to get caught up in drugs and drinking and orgies again, and I'd defended my friend against the notion. But maybe he was right.

Maybe Klaus wouldn't answer because he was knocked out cold in the floor, gripping a bottle of tequila. Maybe he wouldn't answer my texts or pick up my phone calls because he was too busy shooting heroine into the crook of his arm. Maybe he wasn't even alive anymore, and I was knocking on an empty apartment door.

But there it was. His old car, windows covered in half-ruined cartoon stickers, remnants from Annie's childhood. Parked on the side of the road in front of the complex. He was in here.

He just didn't want us anymore, I suppose.

I gave one last tap to the door and pushed myself away from it, breathing in. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, stalling, trying to see if by some off chance he might actually open the door.

'I'm gonna go now, Klaus.', I said, twirling the umbrella around in my hand. I stomped my foot in the puddle and pivoted, turning around, starting down the steps. I made it to the bottom, and looked back again, longingly.

No, Dolores. He's not going to answer.

I bridged the gap between me and my car door, only a few feet. Taking my umbrella down, I gripped the door handle and stood in the rain, drops now soaking my hair, unable to take my eyes off the stickers on his car windows.

The sight took me back to the first day I'd met him. Well, in truth, the first day I'd met Five, as well. That day after the test, after coffee and a jelly donut at Griddy's, at the manor. He'd waltzed in with a suitcase and a braid down his back, sporting a grass skirt, bringing Annie along as a surprise.

I hadn't known what to think of him at first. He confused me, eluded me, he'd made me laugh. I'd never met someone quite so eccentric. Five thought it was annoying. I thought it was endearing.

He'd been the first to know about Joan. Me sitting in the bathroom in the middle of the night, having a nervous breakdown. That night had led to so many tv marathons, oreo-eating sessions, and heart to hearts; I'd never imagined I could have a friend so dear to me.

And now we hadn't talked in a year. He'd just up and left one day, no explanation at all, gone from me and from the rest of the family. He'd acted different for a while before he left. Depressed, he drank too much again. We'd all try to talk to him, and his responses left us wondering if we should have him admitted to a mental care facility for suicide prevention. Something was bad wrong, and none of us could figure it out.

It'd plagued me. Day and night. We'd pass each other in the halls, faint smiles, no words. But on the night before he left, he'd come into my room while Five was still up scratching away on theories, and sat silently on the couch. A bottle of wine shared between the two of us, and not a single word. There were, however, embraces. The friendly sort. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, he was gone.

And he never came back.

I fell pregnant again shortly after he left us. Five was so happy, another boy. I fought with everything in me not to see this one as a replacement for Lucas. He was a little over a year old now, another brown haired Five-looking boy. Carter.

I kept busy. Lewis needed me, Five and I started a coffee roasting small business run out of the basement. Joan dragged me in to doing our genealogies with her, which was boring at first, but I grew to love the time I got to spend with her. But he was always in the back of it. What was he doing? Was he okay? Where was he?

The hardest part of it was that none of the others seemed to care that much. They acted like it was completely to be expected of him. Don't get me wrong, I know his past. But I knew my friend. Leaving with no explanation wasn't like him. There was something going on, something he hid from us, and I knew that he had to get away from us because of it.

My hair was soaked now. Water ran down my jacket, down between my boots and my pant legs, but I didn't mind that. I opened the car door, giving the apartment one last glance before I left. Five was right. He wasn't available anymore.

I put the key in the ignition, causing it to roar to life, heat blowing in my face. I looked to my right, out the car window.

And I saw a movement.

The door swung open.

There he stood, hair piled into a sloppy bun on the top of his head, the lower half of his body covered up by a purple sarong, the top half sporting a worn sweatshirt. bare feet, of course. And with his hand, he brought a cigarette to his lips.

I'd pulled myself from the car so fast I might've gotten whiplash if it was a minute fraction faster. I rubbed water from my eyes, checking to assure myself I wasn't being deceived.

'Klaus!', I shouted out, smiling brightly, moving across the street towards his stoop.

His expression didn't change as he let a puff of smoke roll from his mouth, watching me as I walked.

I ran up the steps. 'Klaus! I've missed you!', I said, wrapping him in a hug, ignoring the billows of smoke around me.

He felt thin as I wrapped my arms around him. And unsettlingly, he didn't hug back. He only put a hand to my hair, cradling my head.

'Dory.'

'Yeah?'

'I'm so sorry.'