Chapter 4

Spring bloomed in full force outside of Caroline's window, the sun shifting its rays through her sheer bedroom curtains. The breeze sneaking in the from the underside of the cracked window was unseasonably cool as she tightened the hand me down quilt around her shoulders. She could hear the baby cooing happily through the baby monitor but knew it would only be a matter of time before he began his morning wailing.

It had been nearly nine months since Klaus had thieved away in the blackness of night, under the cover of the forest behind her. The wolf trinket he had gifted to Gracie had tumbled through her fingers often since that night and she wondered far too frequently what he was up to. She had thought that part of her life had been far left behind when she had taken the cure so long ago.

Her sweet boy, Liam had made his debut two weeks early on a late Wednesday evening with very little fanfare. In stark contrast to Gracie's birth, he had easily slipped into the waiting arms of the doctor and once nestled into her arms, she immediately felt like a part of her husband had come back to her in the biggest of ways.

Grief for her husband shifted to the back burner to being a mother to an infant once more. Life's routine changed drastically; going from a single parent of one semi self-managed kid to that with a baby had Caroline's hands full. Liam was a relatively easy baby; he happily cooed throughout the day and slept most nights, with very little fussing in between. So much of Danny's sunny and calm disposition was reflected in him that Caroline found herself aching for him a way she wasn't accustomed to.

Throwing off her comforter, Caroline wrapped herself in her husband's robe and padded into the baby's room. Liam happily cooed, his feet kicking to the air as he sucked on his nubby fingers. With the dim edge of her human mind, she could remember the twins being this little, how being a vampire benefited her when she had two screaming infants. Scooping the baby up into her arm, he nestled further into her chest as she made her way to the kitchen to get started with breakfast.

Gracie was at camp and despite having the baby, Caroline was grateful for a small reprieve. Her daughter had taken her sweet time warming up to her new brother, throwing tantrums that rivaled some of the worst she had seen fighting off the supernatural. Grief shaped itself into mysterious patterns and she knew ultimately, she just had to give Gracie the space and wide berth to find her own way through it.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she placed the baby into the high chair set up near the kitchen. Despite her quiet human life, she didn't have many friends in the small town she resided in and it wasn't often she had company drop by unexpectedly. Pulling open the front door, her brow kinked in confusion at the person awaiting through the screen door.

"Leah?"

It had been a few weeks since Caroline had seen Bonnie's only daughter. She lived only a state away, and tried to visit as often as possible, especially with the new baby in their lives. At least once a month, she would take the kids off of Caroline's hands for a small reprieve. This visit was unexpected, and after a beat, she unlatched the door and pushed it open for her to come inside.

"Hello, Caroline."

"What are you doing here?" Caroline asked, before shaking her head of the bewilderment clouding her mind. "I mean, come in and have a seat. Can I get you some coffee or tea?"

"I don't come with good news, Care." Leah started without preamble taking a graceful seat on the couch. She swept her long graying hair behind her shoulder and took a labored sigh. Caroline mirrored her movements and sank into the chair next to her. "I wanted to make sure that my information was correct. I've received word from some of my friends in Louisiana."

"Oh?"

Caroline wound her hand around her collarbone as an audible gulp slid down her throat.

"I never realized how remarkably difficult it had to have been for you when Mom and Dad died." Leah explained, a tired tone weaving through her voice. "To have to explain to someone death; the finite, the permeance. For years after they died, I would catch myself thinking 'I've gotta show momma that, or dad would think this was so cool.' There never really comes a point where it truly sinks in that they are gone."

"Leah." Caroline commanded, her voice cracking under the pressure of the unknown.

"There was a war in the Quarter; it erupted quickly and raged on for several weeks." Leah's fingers stretched out and bent back into her palm, a small nervous tick she still carried even after all these years. "I don't know all the details yet, and I guess that's not important. But—"

"…don't—"

"Klaus is dead."

The words hung thick in the air; vaguely she could see Leah's lips moving, an explanation, a platitude, she wasn't sure. For a moment, her sense heightened and it was almost like being a vampire once more. Clearly, she could hear the water moving through the kitchen pipes, the baby's happy gurgling, the smell of wet grass, the tear gliding down her cheek, the salt of it against her lips. Everything other than what Leah was telling her.

"That's impossible." Caroline determined after a moment. She would refuse to accept that.

2120

She wasn't expecting the warmth of a hand to slip into her own palm. The fall air was crisp around her sitting next to the open grave, the casket lowering at an agonizing almost taunting pace. Without even a second glance she squeezed the fingers as they interlaced with hers taking great comfort in her presence.

Leah was much like her mother; kind and strong with an unwavering loyalty to Caroline despite the invisible line of witch versus vampire. She was getting much older now, Caroline noted but still held Bonnie's eyes and Enzo's grin. With perfect recall, she could still remember when they had switched positions to bury Leah's parents. Caroline held her as a baby, and now full with gray hair and a stiff hip, Leah was the one holding her.

Grief she was beginning to understand in a more abstract way. The death of her mother had been the catalyst and every subsequent one added another layer. Time was an infinite stretch in front of her now and without the release of her own demise, each death punctured just a little bit more. Time and death were fierce lovers, and she knew that both would do their part to seduce her in equal measure. Burying yet another love would not change that.

"Caroline." Leah unthreaded their joined palms and replaced the sweat of her hand with a smooth glass vial. "Momma wanted you to have this. She told me I would know when the right time to give it to you."

Caroline snapped from her reverie and rolled the vessel in her hand gingerly. A swarm of emotions bubbled to the surface and was surprised to find that there was room for discussion in her head for all of them. She wasn't sure when the thought of becoming human had planted itself in there, but as the seeds of grief were watered by yet another death, the roots began to form. Even in the grey of the day, the red of the cure was vibrant in her hand.

"What do I do with this?" Caroline's voice cracked as the whisper escaped her lips. It sounded more like a plea than a question; a desperation for a directive. "What does this accomplish?"

"I've tried everything." The heaviness of defeat soaked through Leah's words. "I've reached out to every witch contact I know, poured through all the grimoires. I don't know what this curse is. I don't know if this ever gets better for you."

It was only then that Caroline knew what her suggestion was.

"So," a small sob escaped Caroline's chest. "I take the cure just to outrun time and find relief for all of the… the loss I've suffered?"

Leah cleared her throat, her attention diverted to the dirt being piled onto of the casket. "I don't know what that decision is like for you. You knew my mom and dad better than anyone; Mom slowed her aging to let dad catch up so they could be together. She used to tell me about how they went back and forth for like a year on whether he would take the cure or he would turn her. Caroline, time is constant. It doesn't bend around the bad things that happen to us. I think for my parents they realized a finite but rich life was the best option for them. I just think that there's something sweet about the inevitability that things get better because there's simply no more time to be awful anymore."

Caroline cupped Leah's cheek, her never changing fingers smoothing over the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. "You're not slowing down at all are you?" Leah shook her head in a soft 'no'. "This will never end as long as I'm petrified in time, will it?"

She didn't even realize that baby had been put down for a nap, didn't recall how she ended curled up in a bud, her head laying on Leah's lap. There had been screaming and arguing, pleading that this was some violent dream that she could be able to wake up from. She knew the consequences of taking the cure meant a slim hope to be with him, but it never occurred with her that there would be a world he didn't exist at all.

"I didn't see a dove." She whispered, Leah's warm and calloused hands threading through the locks of her hair. "He can't be gone."

It had been Caroline wrapping her body around a teenage Leah when Bonnie and Enzo had perished in a car accident so may years prior. It had been Caroline to take the sullen teenage in; wrangling a new and particularly painful grief in with trying to help a developing witch and growing young woman find a solid ground. Now, it had come full circle as Leah hummed lowly as Caroline cried.

"I can't even turn it off." she sniffled the realization hitting her two-fold, the back of her cardigan rubbing the edge of her nose. "My humanity. Did you know vampires could do that?" she explained further, unsure of where the idea had latched into her. "I only did it once, when my mother died. I just—I had never felt such a hole inside of me and I just didn't know where to put that. I never thought of turning it off again; not when Stefan died, or when the girls passed away, or when we lost your mom and dad. And now… I can't."

Her words hung thickly between them.

"I know, that's insane for me to even think that." Her hands run across the bulbs of her cheeks, sweeping away the tears. "I've lost so much and it's so selfish to even consider, to even want that, but—" she took a breath, setting up on the couch to look at Leah. "I walked away from him to be safe, I stayed away to be careful, and all these years, all the time spent apart was for nothing."

"Not for nothing, honey." Leah cupped her cheek softly. "You have two babies and more love in the last 7 years that anyone would strive for."

"I don't accept this." She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "I don't accept another person to grieve for. He's immortal!" she shouted, leaping up from the couch. It was irrational; she was pacing and arguing about the death of Klaus in front of her wedding photo to another man. "Hell, I was part of half a dozen schemes myself to kill him and he never died!"

"I saw it for myself." Leah said, her back sinking against the pillows of the couch. The finality in her words, stopped Caroline in her tracks. "He laid in state for 5 days in his enemies camp until his siblings took him away. There was quite the scrimmage over that, but the Originals gained the upper hand then."

"When did this happen?"

"Two weeks ago." Leah confirmed. "I don't know all the specifics, but it was a war that had been brewing for some time."

"He could have jumped bodies!" Caroline reasoned; her pacing resumed a humorless laugh escaping. "He did that before when we tried to kill him. Our first kiss was because he weaseled his way into my boyfriend's body."

"Caroline—"

"No! Ok?" Caroline screamed, her palms clenching at her sides. "Just, give this to me okay? I didn't just stay away from him for 75 years and suffered death after death to be dealt the final blow of his, okay? This is just not okay," she swallowed another sob, the words sticking in her throat. "okay?"

Leah stood, placing her hands on Caroline's shoulders. "Okay."

"There's not a place for this here." She cried, pumping her fist against her chest. "I did not make room for him here. I didn't think I had to. Everyone else, everyone—they were human, or old, or, you know something inevitable. How do I grieve for him?"

X-x-X

In the months since he had left, it had been the tiny moments she had to herself; soaking a bubble bath, or knitting a blanket that she gave permission to think of Klaus. She had drawn comfort knowing that not only was he safe in whatever curse was still lingering around her, but that he emphatically understood her choice. She could rest easy in the knowledge that he would not resent her and that the life they had shared in those few and far between moments would always have to be enough to sustain.

It had been days since Leah's visit; she had made her tea and cradled her as Caroline had cried. She had taken the brunt of the baby duties, and Caroline's oscillating emotions; extreme rage and uncontrollable sorrow. It had been Leah's suggestion to take Liam for the week to give Caroline the space to mourn properly, an act she was most grateful for.

Wrapping an old cardigan around her torso, she slipped out onto the back deck sinking into the one of the chairs. It had been quite some time since she had been left to her own thoughts and devices; without the chatter and chaos of having two children. Getting out of bed the last few mornings had been tedious and the ache within her was relentless and heavy; she felt herself downing within the vastness of it all.

With a sigh, she tugged on the lid of box in front of her, the lid finally giving away to open up to its contents. The box had been spelled by Bonnie years ago to only show its contents to Caroline, the treasure and mementos too important to be shared with anyone else. Her mother's badge rested atop black and white photos of her wedding day. Underneath were lockets of Josie and Lizzie first haircuts and a friendship bracelet she had shared with Bonnie from elementary school.

In a separate, smaller box were her keepsakes of Klaus. The bracelet her had bribed her with so many years prior. Various portraits he had drawn of her, much too generous in his depiction of her. She had pressed the sunflowers from their first meet up in between wax paper and could still feel them pressed between their two bodies has she had hugged him that day. A photobooth strip of the two of them at Disneyland feel out as she pulled the stack of letters from the bottom of the box. Thumbing through the small stack, she finally found the one that she had been searching for.

"You're up early."

Klaus grinned, his dimples deepening on one cheek as he turned. He watched as she gracefully sauntered into his studio, the morning yellow dawning on the horizon. Her hair was short, falling just below her ears and she was surprised at just how much it suited her and how much he liked it. She sank into a nearby arm chair, crossing her bare legs and gingerly sipping her steaming coffee with both hands.

"I didn't go to sleep."

She quirked up an eyebrow. "I've been sharing a bed with you for many years, I know when you don't sleep beside me."

"Are you cross with me?" She offered him her cup which he gratefully took. "How can I amend myself?"

A rueful smile crossed her face. "Draw me like one of your French girls?"

Deep and spirited laughs bellowed from him as he handed her back her mug. "You've watched that bloody movie one too many times, love."

"You could stay."

The words caught him off guard, she could tell as he took in a haggard breath and tilted his head. "That's a first." He commented, sinking down onto the stool in front of his canvas. The harsh waves of the morning tide of the Atlantic could be heard through the opened balcony doors, the reminder of the storm that had swept through the night before. He cut his eyes up to study her through his lashes, a thoughtful expression gracing his features. It wasn't often that he couldn't read her. "Where's your mind at, sweetheart?"

She shrugged delicately, the words tumbling out in soft tone. "You like the lobster here."

"I do."

"You won't admit it, but you enjoy fishing. Not quite as exciting as hunting, but you like the quiet of it, I think."

He nodded and motioned for her to continue. A flock of birds sang as they flew by the windows.

"We could be happy."

There time in Maine had been filled with peaceful mornings and adventure filled afternoons. Klaus had taught her how to cook creole; his torso against her body as he directed her hands from behind her. Dinners had been on the deck of the house overlooking the water, aged red wine being sipped between them as he regaled her of stories from along his history. Weekends were lazy; sunbathing on the sand and skinny dipping in the warm ocean surf. It had been the longest they had spent together at that point, and Caroline could feel the pull of something more, something final that could keep her rooted in place.

He swallowed, understanding finally reaching him. "You've never wanted this before. I always assumed you rather liked the chase of it all."

"Well that was before you planted the rose bushes and made me blueberry pancakes for breakfast." She grinned, the salt of the air filling her lungs. "I know this is out of the blue and we've never talked about this—"

"You've never asked me to stay." He interrupted, the words a soft timbre against the tremble building inside of him. Nervously, a trait Caroline was proud she could bring out in him, he began to fiddle with the paint brushes resting on his easel. "Where is this coming from?"

"These last few months have made me think." She got up slowly, tiptoeing across the old hardwood to him. Winding his hands around the waist, his palms grazing the skin just below her shirt, she threaded her fingers through his tousled curls. Giving a gentle tug, she tilted his head up to look at her. He watched the lump slide down her throat. "I love you. I think, I know you know that. This is just a small vision of what we could have together. I know I've been so afraid of it before; unwilling to bend or consider, but I'm now Klaus. I'm not asking you give up the power or the glory, or the wars—"

"Aren't you?" his voice rose and splintered infinitesimally at his interruption. "Caroline there's so much I have enjoyed quite thoroughly about our time together."

She shrank away from him, but he gripped her elbows to keep her in place. "But it's not enough."

It wasn't as if this wasn't a distinct possibility. For years she had rejected him, kept him at arm's length, put on the chase. It had always been her calling the shots on when and where and how long. He had never turned her down in the years they had spent together, had never been anything but gracious in carving out time in his life to accommodate her. She didn't want to settle just yet, she just wanted to possibility of something more with them.

"It's more than enough." He implored, his hand snaking up the side of her neck to palm her jaw. "It's not just about the power and the glory; I have businesses to tend to, a family that needs me. If I didn't have obligations or loyalties that need nurturing and attention…"

"Yeah." Caroline nodded, a single tear releasing itself without her permission. She smiled tightly, her hands running against the plane of his chest. "I understand."

"I can't just shirk away from my responsibilities." His explanation was valid and fair, but still felt hollow with her in his arms. "Besides, we'll have Paris in a couple of months." He kissed her tenderly on the lips before brushing his against her forehead. "I love you, Caroline. I will always find my way back to you."

They had parted on an uneasy foundation a few days later. Caroline had stayed behind to clean up and shutter up the house. Small touches from their time together haunted her as she moved from room to room. Food stuck to the underside of the cabinet; a remnant of one of their food fights. Sheets ripped in the master bedroom. A half-finished portrait neatly on a canvas, the shape of her eyes a prominent outline.

It was a few weeks later when she had decided to send him a fishing pole as a joke. He had responded promptly with the deed to the house they had rented in Maine, a simple note attached.

However long it takes…

Yours, Klaus

The sun was sinking into the horizon just beyond the mountains and twilight was filling up the sky around her. Stars twinkled on the edge of the pinks and orange produced by the sun, the air crackling with one of the last cold bites of winter. The box had been pieced back together some time before and sheltered back into its place on the top shelf of her closet. She had kept the photo strip, her thumb brushing over their happy faces as it kept the place in the book she was attempting to read. She was only two chapters into her current novel and so engrossed in the murder mystery that she didn't notice him at the base of the steps until he cleared his throat.

"Hello, love."