A/N - Sorry this update has taken so long. Hit a spot of writer's block. Then went in a slightly different direction. This was meant to be another point of view from Caroline following on directly where chapter 1 left off. But Klaus want to tell his side of the story.


Chapter 2

"Perhaps one day, in a year, or even in a century."

Near on three quarters of a century had passed since he had said the words that haunted him. They had for years now. He hadn't intended to count the years. But with each passing one, the loneliness increased. And these words were now a cruel joke, a daily reminder of how few people he cared for in his life. Until now.

He had to get out of America. Too long had been spent there, chasing dopplegangers, trying to create a family that couldn't be whole and searching for a cure that didn't exist. He started in Europe. Followed by two of his hybrids; protecting him every step of the way. Though from what, he wasn't sure.

After a few years he started tracking down his siblings once more. They had all scattered across the globe once more. No longer bound by blood they were free to live how they wished. He knew Elijah was in London. His older brother had always found it so easy to fit into whichever commuity he was currently living in but English society had always seemed to suit him best. A true gentleman. He envied him that.

The eldest, living, Mikaelson now resided in an English country manor surrounded by acres of lands, and no one to question the number of women passing through by the house, each with their own set of wounds. It was a peaceful existance, one which both brothers had craved. He rarely saw his brother interact with the women; he suspected that he still partly pined for first doppelganger. But the experience with Katrina, and first Tatia, had hardened their hearts. Elijah might once again open his heart, but it was something he was not prepared to do again. He was the man who couldn't love.

His time in England was brief. France beckoned, along with his sister. Their relationship was still unstable. But he had always been unable to refuse her when she need help or comfort. She gave her heart away too easily and this had been known to have fatal consequences. And he was always there to clean up. This time she was holed up in a Parisian hotel. Turns out she was just feeling lonely, despite having always been able to persuade people in befriending her, she was having a hard time. She was used to having someone she knew, even on unfriendly terms, near by. This wasn't the case in Paris. And he didn't stay long to watch the latest Rebekah Pity Party unravel.

He acrossed the border next. It was there he thought he saw her. He had been sat outside the cathedral in Barcelona, contemplating whether his next meal should be local or foreign when a flash of blonde and a familiar scent swept past him. In the bushel of tourist he thought he made her out with the doppelganger but he couldn't be sure. They hadn't parted on good terms, he thought she might need a few more years, so didn't follow.

He soon skipped town and found himself in Madrid where he ran into the elder Salvatore. Their dislike towards each other had not changed but neither had their love of drinking. And more importantly the hunt. They spent a couple of weeks today drying out every bar they came across, and a couple of patrons too for him. Damon was more reserved. Soon enough he was left alone, his drinking buddy was moving onto Barcelona.

It wasn't long before home began calling to him like it always did. It didn't matter where in the world he was, at some point he would get the overwhelming urge to go back home. In part this time was because he has heard she might have returned.

He travelled alone for a while, sending his hybrids ahead of him to prepare his home for him. He fed, he partied, all the things an immortal monster could do. His youngest brother found him one day. Only spent a mere few hours with him, apparently he was just a shell now. Kol had been forging out a similar reputation to the one he once had held. His brother might have aspirations of being the most fearful creature to walk the earth but he knew it was still just a stake to the heart that would end him, and he could do that easily. Whether he be a shell of his former self or not.

The final stop he made before returning to Mystic Falla was his old stomping ground in Chicago. Here he found the younger Salvatore having returned to his previous ripper ways. He reveled in seeing just unharnessed and unnecessary violence. Nostalgia for days gone by set in and he joined his former commrade in the hunts and kills. This was the one thing that had not changed in all his years alone, his desire for the kill. It was a part of him that would never fade, it burned in him. It had been dormant for a couple of decades. Sure he had killed, it was in his nature, but the ferocity hadn't been there. The younger Salvatore's lust for blood awoke that side of him and for a time it was exactly like there time together in the Roaring Twenties. But all good things come to an end, he grew tired of Chicago so split; leaving Stefan to terrorize alone. The last he heard, Damon had found him, hoping to bring back what was left of his torn humanity.

Near on three quarters of a century had passed since he had said the words that haunted him. They had for years now. He hadn't intended to count the years. But with each passing one, the loneliness increased. And these words were now a cruel joke, a daily reminder of how few people he cared for in his life. Until now. The fire roared in front of him, hypnotizing him.

She had once stood in this very room with him. He had shown her his art. He had promised to show her the world. That night he had shown her a different side to him. And she had thrown back the gift he'd given and called him out on a few home truths he'd rather not admit.

Slow, steady, confident footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He turned to shout for the hybrid to leave him be. But the words got stuck in his throat as the firelight lit her face.