Summary: Caroline Forbes was sad and alone after her mother died until he came. (AU, no baby plot, angst)

A Visitor

She held the flowers in her hands. The petals and leaves shook along with her body as she walked with her weak, aching head held higher than she thought she could manage. But then, she was Caroline Forbes, stronger than anybody gave her credit. Stefan offered to come with her, but it was his fault she had not been there when her mother passed, she did not want him to follow her.

No, that wasn't why she refused him. It was because it was her own fault for not being there when her wonderful mother took her final breaths. Her fault it had to be Damon there, holding her cold, feeble fingers, because she was too busy making kissy faces at a boy she had since decided was more like a brother than anything else.

Caroline's nonexistent breath caught halfway out of her mouth, creating a short cloud that stopped before it could properly escape into the freezing air. Her mother was gone. Gone. And all she had were some stupid flowers.

The blond vampire stared at the white things in her hands. Elizabeth Forbes never even liked roses. She hated their scent. Right now, Caroline agreed wholeheartedly.

Crunching broken, brown leaves as she walked further into the deserted graveyard, Caroline held tighter to the thorny flowers, wondering if wherever her mother was she was watching her. She was alone now. Really alone. Her father was gone, now her gentle, kind, supportive mom. All she had were the Scooby Gang, and while she loved each of them, they were not family so much as reluctant acquaintances turned friends.

Hot, thick tears bubbled in Caroline's eyes. She had not let herself truly cry yet, and as she sucked in a sharp, cold breath, she decided she wasn't about to start now.

She was strong on her own. A lone wolf. If becoming a vampire had taught her anything, it was that she needed nobody else to fight her battles for her. She was better than Elena that way. Elena always crawled to the Salvatore brothers when things got tough. Switched her emotions off because she couldn't handle feeling, and not feeling anything was the easy way out. But she was Caroline Forbes. A brave warrior that had overcome quite a bit in her first twenty years. Who had managed to become a fully functioning, healthy vampire with only a small amount of help.

She could make it in this life without attachments.

She was ready now to leave mystic falls. Nothing was keeping her here.

It was a depressing thought, but she had been wallowing in grief for weeks now. Maybe leaving would magnify her sadness for a brief period, but it was what she needed in the long run. She only hoped her friends saw it her way. They were all stuck here, tethered to the Virginian soil by roots they couldn't see. She had cut herself loose the minute her mother passed. It was time to stretch her legs.

The gravestone was buried deep in the old cemetery. For such a small town, there were a lot of dead people. Caroline crouched down when she reached the one belonging to her mother and gently placed the white roses against the headstone.

She stayed there, motionless and unspeaking, not knowing what to do. In the movies, they always talked to the dead, in the hopes they could hear you. She knew her mother, wherever she may have been, was listening.

"Hi, mom," she whispered, her throat tight. "I'm, uh, sorry it took so long for me to come see you."

Caroline nearly laughed. This was ridiculous.

"Mom," she sighed sadly, a sob rising in her chest. "Oh, mom. I'm so sorry," she whispered. She couldn't get her voice any louder. It was lodged, it was like a tennis ball had found its way into her mouth. "I wasn't there," she said. "I didn't see you, I didn't say goodbye. I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"And I'm sorry," she went on, staring up at the bleak, grey sky, "I'm sorry I didn't come here before. You have to understand," she said through the tears. The salty things fell into her mouth. They tasted so bitter. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't walk in here and see you like this. I wasn't strong enough–"

Caroline's voice cut off completely then. She buried her wet, scrunched face in her small hands and allowed a little bit of the sorrow she had barred inside her chest loose. She trembled with sobs, felt tears leaking through her fingers.

"But I'm stronger now," she said resolutely once the wave passed. Wiping her cheeks with her dark blue cardigan, Caroline smiled sadly. "I'm leaving, mom. There's nothing here for me anymore. You always said I was better than this town, and I'm starting to think you're right."

Caroline didn't know where she was going. If she would ever come back. She didn't know if she would be leaving with her entire life packed away, or if she would leave their old house with the memories still inside. Its mortgage was paid off. If she mentioned to one of the guys to look in on it, she could abandon it without a guilty conscience. Pack a small suitcase and finally escape.

"They don't need me, the others. They're too busy dealing with their own problems to care about mine. Which is okay," she said, patting her jean-clad knees. "It's okay. They're allowed to not understand. Well, Elena's apathy has been a little harder to swallow, but I get it. I get it."

Europe, she decided. She would start with Europe. Ireland. It was closest to the east coast. She would go to Ireland, then slowly make her way around the world.

"I miss you," she said softly, staring at her mother's tombstone.

Elizabeth Forbes. What a woman.

Caroline got to her feet, freezing when she saw someone standing in front of the grave opposite the headstone.

Shock ran through her blood, pulling her mouth open. She must have been seeing things.

He couldn't really be there.

"You–" she started saying, curiosity getting the better of her. But she didn't know how to finish the sentence.

The figure smiled sadly. It didn't fit his gorgeous face, sadness. It made him look his age.

Caroline looked him up and down. He wore all black. Typical. He seemed well and fit. Healthy. He glowed in the dismal graveyard like the sun.

"What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly.

Klaus Mikaelson, hands clasped behind his back, nodded toward the grave. "I heard," was all he said.

She didn't know why - no, she did - his admission made her want to cry, but she found herself blinking smoke from her eyes. "Okay," she choked, "but why are you here?"

Klaus's blue eyes were softer than she had ever seen them. There was a kindness and warmth behind them she had noticed a couple of times when he still was trying to make Mystic Falls his own. A warmth she was sure nobody else was allowed to see.

"I'm here to take you away."