Hello all! This is my first venture into the fanfiction world for a very, very long time. The last time I published a chapter on this site was almost four years ago. So, here goes!

I may be a little rusty, so constructive feedback is absolutely welcomed. This story is set somewhere in the near future. I have tried to keep it compliant with what we know now, so hopefully it won't be too AU when the Vampire Diaries and the Originals start back up.

This is a three-part story. So please sit back, grab a cuppa and enjoy :)

Caroline didn't know why she had done it. A momentary lapse of sanity, a complete loss of all her senses; she had no explanation, no reasonable justification for the torment she inflicted upon herself. Perhaps it was her unyielding sense of self-punishment. Perhaps a part of her liked being the martyr, the poor fool who always put herself second, who willingly and blindly forewent her own happiness for the sake of others. The pain was like a security blanket; it pushed her to remain strong, to be better than her predecessors. She was not blinded by hatred like her father, or devoid of compassion and human emotion like Damon had been. She was not a Ripper. She did not kill without thought or consequence, but nor was she an innocent lamb. Her humanity was her compass. Broken as it was, she still clung to the notion that she was not the monster fate had created her to be.

So why did she do this? Why did she make such monstrous decisions when it came to her own happiness? She was like a broken record stuck in a vicious cycle of inevitability. One way or another, whether it be her own happiness she pursued or that of her loved ones, Caroline would always end up heartsore. She would be the broken party, the victim of self worth.

We accept the love we believe we deserve.

The one time she truly allowed herself to believe that, to actually accept that maybe she did deserve an epic love, was the one time she was wrong. So wrong. So stupidly and utterly wrong.

It had been Enzo. That smug, self-serving, loyal prick; he had been the one to put the idea in her head. Maggie was his epic love. Elena was Damon's...and quite possibly Stefan's. Everyone had an epic love, a person they would die for, someone to kill and breathe for. A purposeful love. She had thought of Tyler during that conversation, thought sadly of the naive little dream she had concocted in her head. Matt. Tyler. Jesse. Hell, even Damon at some point. She had cared and loved for them each in her own way, but none of them had been that someone. She would kill for them, die if she had to to protect them but to breathe, that she did for herself. Caroline lived and breathed for her own self, not someone else.

Except him.

When he was around she felt light, as though the world around her drifted away. She breathed for him, lived for him and him alone in those small moments. She lived because he allowed it, because he demanded it and she breathed so ardently, sucked in such raspy gulping breaths just to continue living. Her confession had been her downfall, just as her guilt had been a barrier built to protect her. They judged and then forgave, forgot perhaps wishfully her sins.

And your epic love, Goldilocks, Enzo had sniped at her spitefully after failing to find Maggie, have you found him yet?

Had she? Truthfully, she did not know. She was young, too young to be talking of epic loves as more than a fantasy, as more than a dream of finding that someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Enzo had talked with such sorrowful longing. A purposeful love; Caroline knew she wanted that. She wanted to steal someone's breath, she wanted to be the reason they lived. It was why she was here. She had thought so stupidly, so naively that maybe she did deserve an epic love. She had to take a chance, a risk to see if love would blossom or wilt.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

How could she have been so unbelievably stupid?!

All she saw was red. Red hair, red lips; the way she arched her brow in amusement, glided her painted nails down his back. Caroline swallowed hard. She wanted to close her eyes, to forget that she ever thought coming down here had been a good idea. Caroline wanted to run home. She wanted to slap Enzo, to snap his neck and claw her frustrations out on his skin. He had made her think that –

Slowly, she backed away from the pair in the alleyway as she tried to slow her heartbeat, to calm her breathing. God, if he saw her! But he wouldn't, of course he wouldn't. How could he? He was too busy pushing her legs around his waist to care. And why should he care? They had never made a commitment to each other. Sure, they had shared a moment. Beautiful, short, passionate and as painfully haunting as it was, it was just a moment in time. Caroline had no right to be angry or upset. She had come down here on a whim and she planned to leave just as quickly.

Once she was clear, Caroline took in a shuddery breath and grasped the wall beside her for support. Her heart hurt, more than she thought it would. He had moved on; she would not begrudge him that, not after she had told him to never return, to never come back to her. Klaus had every right to be happy, even if that happiness was found not with her but some beautiful, brazen redhead.

Caroline quickly grabbed her phone, clutching it like a lifeline. As the cell began to ring, she tried to slow her breathing, to calm down. Viciously she wiped away the few lone tears she had allowed herself to cry, waiting impatiently until finally Stefan's familiar voice floated down the receiver.

"I'm an idiot, Stefan," she blurted into the phone, walking brusquely down the street. She had to keep walking, keep moving. "I can't believe I thought that this was a good idea."

"Why? Was Klaus not happy to see you, because I highly doubt –"

"See me?" she laughed, cutting her friend off. She was sounding more hysterical, more neurotic by the minute. "He was too busy wrapped around some redhead to even know I was there."

Saying it hurt. The words cut. She hated it and she hated him; people didn't make epic declarations of love and then move on after a couple of months. She hated him for making her believe, for making her want his 'last love' or whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. Caroline hated the rejection, the lack of self worth that slowly began to creep up on her. She was strong, a survivor in both love and life. She would not revert back to her old self. Caroline refused to let the emotions in.

"Oh," Stefan's long pause and hesitant tone made her stop so abruptly that she nearly bowled over a couple of tourists in the street.

"Say it," she said after the line remained silent for a few more seconds. "Just say whatever it is. I don't care if you think I'm stupid or unreasonable or –"

"I don't think you're any of those things. Slightly neurotic and upset on the other hand... I bet you're fiddling with your daylight ring right now. Doing that whole nervous, jittery twirl thing you do when you're anxious," Caroline winced at his words, hastily shoving her right hand into her jacket pocket. Was she that transparent? Stefan's answering laugh at the silence irritated her to no end. "You know, you're not stupid. Far from it."

Caroline leaned against the shop wall behind her, silently scoffing at the signage. Voodoo. Really?

"I feel stupid. I actually thought that if I came down here, if I saw him and he saw me that I would magically figure it all out," she confessed tiredly.

"And did you?" Stefan asked. "Figure it out?"

She licked her lips, biting down on them in frustration. Her eyes danced down the street. Art. Culture. Music. New Orleans was beautiful and vibrant and full of life. The street teemed with people, talking and laughing, some even dancing their way down the path, weaving between locals and grinning brightly at tourists. She felt like a black blight on a brightly painted canvas. Wanderlust began to creep its way into her bones. She hated that he was right. Klaus knew, even before she did, that in the end Mystic Falls would not be enough.

"I..." Caroline hesitated. This was Stefan, she reminded herself. He would not judge her. She took a deep breath. "I care about him. More than I should, more than I know is right. He's a bad person, Stefan, and I know, I know that we have all done terrible things but sometimes I think he does them simply for the sake of it. And then, then I'll remember all of the things he's done for me, all of the things he's said and I can't help it, I can't help but care about him. Something is wrong with me, Stefan. I just saw him wrapped around another woman and instead of being angry, instead of hating him blindly for making stupid promises about waiting for me and last loves, you know what I do? I understand. I forgive. And I hate him for that."

Caroline breathed deeply, rattled by her confession. She had never really opened herself up to the possibility of caring. That day in the woods had been a cool balm against the ever growing tempest of emotions that had been bubbling away under the surface ever since his family's ball. But care she did. Too much, it seemed.

"Then tell him," she pushed herself off from the wall, startled by her friend's reply.

"You are joking, right?!" she balked at the suggestion, rapidly spinning around to hide her face from the curious sets of eyes she had drawn in her outburst. She barely paid attention to the man by the newspaper stall.

"What have you got to lose?"

Caroline laughed. "Uh. My life, for one."

"Bullshit. He wouldn't hurt you and you know it. Try again," Stefan persisted, his tone blunt. She could just picture his face. Caroline wanted to hit him.

"How about my dignity then?!" she huffed out angrily. "I can't just walk up to Klaus and say 'hey, so remember that time you and I got freaky in the woods? Yeah, so maybe I changed my mind about never seeing you again and want you to show me the world or whatever'."

Stefan laughed. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say it like that."

Caroline practically growled, stamping her foot on the ground in irritation. "Don't laugh at me, Salvatore. I'm not good at epic declarations of love, alright?! That's his department. Liar that he is."

She breathed heavily, unaware of the dark eyes watching her. She was tired and angry and heartsore and yes, okay she was more than a little embarrassed. So what if she couldn't find the right words? So what if she wanted to grab him by the collar and throw him against the wall, hit him, scratch him, tear his spleen out and shove it down his throat. Or kiss him. Maybe she would kiss him. Caroline didn't rightly know.

"Well, as far as epic declarations of love go I have always found that the truth works pretty well," Caroline sucked in an unnecessary breath at Stefan's reply. She had said that, hadn't she? "Feel free to ignore me here Care, after all this is your heart we are talking about, but I think you know what you feel. You're scared. Vulnerable. I get it, you know. You need to be in control, or at least feel like you have a handle over your own heart. He drives you crazy. You probably drive him crazy. At least tell him. Give him some sort of fighting chance. Hell, you told him to move on and he did and –"

"I know I did," she sighed, grimacing at the truth behind Stefan's words.

"And you regret it," Stefan said knowingly. "So fix it."

Caroline laughed, running a hand through her long curls. She let out a low breath. "Look at you, defending Niklaus Mikaelson of all things."

"Who would have thought?" the reply was soft and teasing, but she could tell the toll Stefan's advise had taken on him. Telling her to go after a man that had singlehandedly made his life a living hell –that was the mark of a true friend. Her heart swelled at the thought.

"Thank you, Stefan," sincerity flowed through her voice. She was thanking him for so much more than he knew, so much more than she dared voice. If only she could fall for a guy like him. Which, she kind of did in a way. Maybe her mother was right; maybe she was attracted to beautifully broken things.

"Go get 'em tiger."

She laughed, her eyes crinkling in genuine joy. The phone clicked off before she could make some smart reply. She stared at it, soft peals of laughter erupting from her lips. She probably looked like some crazy, mentally unstable madwoman laughing at her phone in the middle of the street. She probably was a crazy, mentally unstable madwoman but at that moment, right then and there standing beneath the vintage Voodoo sign Caroline Forbes knew what she wanted.

Redhead, be damned.

I hope you enjoyed the ride. Forgive me for the cliffhanger. I do so love them.

Till next time.