The Girl Part II

Because I love you guys... and thank sweetklausoline because otherwise this wouldn't have ever been written.

The illusion shattered. The illusion he had wanted, the illusion he had built up to cope with the pain, was gone. And so was Caroline; the girl he loved was dead, and he didn't know how to deal with that.

He was somehow freer with the realization. No more doubts about why there was something not quite right about the girl, no more nagging doubt in the back of his mind. It was because it hadn't been right, nothing had been right, because it wasn't Caroline; he hadn't been with the girl that he was in love with.

How had he managed to delude himself into thinking that the slip of a girl could compare to his Caroline though? That was the question that plagued him night and day. And why, why couldn't he remember Caroline's face? Why when he tried to draw her did Camille show up instead? He did not know, and he did not like not knowing, it made him feel weak, powerless.

It didn't make sense, and again he got the feeling that he was missing something, something vital. He didn't like it, the confusion, the not knowing, and the grief that he tried to keep at bay. His lovely Caroline, her face a blur in his memory, was dead and gone from this world. Too soon. Before they had even really had a chance, she was torn cruelly from this life, and the only image that his brain could hold was the picture of her dead on the ground, a hole through her chest, lifeless eyes staring back at him, and still he could not keep a firm grasp on what her face looked like. Only those dead eyes staring back at him.

Oh, he remembered her screams though, the screams for him to save her when the man had held her captive, the vervain ropes around her, the sizzling of her skin audible to the hybrid where he hung unable to help her, imprisoned by the magic of the man. And he was forced to hear her scream for him, not for anyone else, for him while he could do nothing to help her, though he wanted to, trying to use his strength to break the magical bonds to no avail.

And that was it. All he had left of her. Oh he knew he loved her, without a doubt, that feeling was strong. But he only had glimpses of his time with her in Mystic Falls; dancing, chasing, laughing.

He didn't like that something had been taken from his memory, whether by his own doing or some outside influence. He wanted to remember her face, needed to remember it, needed to still have her image in his mind because he didn't know how he would stay sane if he kept straining his brain to pull up the image of her face. And then, he thought, maybe it had been better when he could pretend that Camille was Caroline, when he thought that she was Caroline. The illusion had kept him from this. He had never felt like this. It was different from the grief of losing his siblings; there was a contrast, a difference. He couldn't explain it, but it felt like his heart had been ripped in two.

He didn't like that when he picked up his phone to call Stefan, he changed his mind without really wanting to change his mind. When he asked Elijah about what happened after Caroline died, he could not for the life of him remember his brother's response.

And he did not like the blond girl staring him down from across the bar. "You know, staring is considered rude love."

Her eyes flashed in anger, and he chuckled slightly at her ire before quieting when her glare intensified. "Are you really going to pretend that you don't recognize me?"

He looked harder at the face that was staring at him... something was oddly familiar about her features, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe someone he had threatened before? "I'm sorry, I really don't know who you are."

Klaus watched as her lip trembled slightly, to his confusion; if she had been someone he had threatened, would she really be upset if he did not recognize her? "It's true then. You really don't know?"

"Know what?" He was growing angry; he didn't understand, and there were too many things that he did not understand these days. And his confusion, combined with his anger, only grew when the girl got up, putting her hands on either side of his face, and he didn't know why he did nothing to stop her when her lips, soft, familiar lips, pressed against his. Then he was angry for an entirely different reason, but not at her anymore; no he brought her body closer to his as the memories, his true memories, flooded back. Silas had tortured her, he could could remember his name now, but he had not killed her. He had compelled Klaus to think that he had killed her, removed his memories, and made him believe that Camille was Caroline.

He broke away from her lips with a pant. "What happened?"

"He compelled you to leave, but then Elijah killed him. I thought you left me, though. I didn't know he compelled you, and so I didn't come after you." She paused slightly, pressing another kiss on his lips. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetheart, without knowing why, or who I was really missing."

And for the first time in nearly a year, he felt whole again, unconfused, and he could remember everything, every tiny detail that had led them to this point. And he would never let her go again.

A/N: Thank you for the idea Kristen ;)