A/N: I would like to start out by thanking the people who have read and commented so far. I have been contemplating putting this idea to paper (well, keyboard would be more accurate) for awhile now. Also, I would like to point out that my attitudes towards certain characters in this fictional story do not necessarily resemble my opinions of them in real life (Hayley, for example, who I do not hate. I would not like for my depiction of her to be taken as an overused trope. This will have an impact on future chapters).

As for this chapter, it is a little longer, although I edited myself since I do not have a beta (I deeply apologize if I glazed over any mistakes).

Thank you so so much for reading, and I hope you will like it and review. Disclaimer- I do not own any of the characters written in this story, only the narratives are my original work.

It is a fateful Tuesday in May when Klaus Mikaelson bows his head in prayer for the first time in eleven years. He's pretending to do so more than anything, but he's in a church, and that in itself is a feat anyone should be proud of influencing in the slightest.

Only Rebekah could drag him out to the armpit of civilization and get away with it. Klaus feels uncomfortable sitting in the third pew, but he isn't sure what else there is to do as he waits for his baby sister. He remembers Bekah calling him the day before with the request. Her fiancé, Stefan Salvatore, who he has yet to meet, cannot make it for the beginning of the session.

Speaking of his sister, he lifts his head and looks over his shoulder to see her hanging up her cellphone. Her heels click against the marble floor of the nave, and she places a hand on his shoulder.

"Nik," She's smiling, and he can't recall the last time she looked so radiant. "Get up and give me a hug!"

His littlest sister was perhaps the most annoying growing up. She had been a pest, insisting on playing with wooden swords like the boys, and attached herself to his own hip early on. But they have always had a close bond, and who is he to deny her request that he be here for her pre-marital counseling with the priest? Klaus was willing, albeit initially grumpy, to bump his flight from Chicago two hours to accommodate her plans.

"Little Sister." Klaus wraps his arms around her and she only tightens her grip on him, eliciting a chuckle from him.

A middle-aged man standing crossing clears his throat, and Rebekah sheepishly breaks apart from him. "Ms. Mikaelson?"

The young blonde eagerly nods, and drags Klaus as she hurriedly follows the priest to the vestry. Neither of them are regular parishioners of this church, and he is certain his father, who he hasn't yet seen since arriving, has a snide comment about it. However, this is the podunk town where Stefan Salvatore grew up, and so this small chapel is perfectly beautiful in Rebekah's eyes.

He admires her attitude about it. She is going to need it with a family like theirs.

They take a seat on two leather chairs set across from a messily arranged desk. The priest smiles and shakes their hands before taking a seat. He is no Kieran O'Connell, who married their parents, who baptized each and every one of them, and who conducted his previous three siblings' weddings, but he is friendly at the very least.

"Good morning, I'm Father Saltzman." He slides a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose and sinks into his seat. "You must be Rebekah and Stefan."

His sister laughs, correcting the man on the minor mistake, "Actually, this is my brother Nik, though Stefan should be here shortly."

She makes a point of checking her wristwatch, and smiles apologetically. As if strategically planned, a knock sounds on the door, and a sheepish Stefan allows himself into the quaint office, voicing his apologies.

Klaus immediately gives him a once over. So this is the bloke his sister settled for? He attributes no one being perfect enough for Bekah in his eyes to the overly protective big brother instincts.

"I apologize," He says, "I had an early patient." Klaus purses his lips, assessing the man, and he figures he will do for now.

"Please take a seat," Father Saltzman gestures to a chair perched against a small table, and Stefan drags it over, sitting right between him and his sister. "Let's get started."

Klaus cannot be bothered to listen in to the boring details of the couple's counseling, but he knows Rebekah would scold him if he were to get up and leave now that the Father is in the middle of discussing the road to marriage. Besides, as embarrassing and emasculating as it is, Rebekah and her small yellow Beatle rental car are his ride, and even if he had a set of wheels he doesn't know the last thing about this one pony town.

He is staring out the window absentmindedly, inspired by the colorful apple tree that grows in the side courtyard, when Rebekah calls his name.

"Nik, he was asking you a question." Her pointed glare does not go unnoticed.

"Excuse me," he reddens slightly, "could you repeat that?"

Father Saltzman patiently smiles, reiterating, "Will you be the best man?"

Stefan, who has until now been rather quiet and distracted looks up with a puzzled look on his face. He speaks up before Rebekah can answer for either of them.

"I don't think so," He shakes his head, confused as why it should even come up.

"Nonsense Nik, how are you not going to be the best man?" He grows sympathy for Stefan with every second that passes. He cannot remember the last time his petulant sister didn't get her unreasonable way.

Maybe because I barely know the groom… He says inwardly, but knows better than to be smart mouthed with Rebekah.

Stefan scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure how to go about dealing with Rebekah, though Klaus figures if he put a ring on it, there must be an inkling of an instinct telling the man what to do.

"I told you," He mutters more to her than anybody else in the room, "I want my twin to be my best man."

Klaus is intrigued, wondering about Stefan's family life. The most he had ever gotten out of Rebekah—the most anyone had gotten out of her—was that her fiancé was from a small Virginian town, Mystic Falls, and that they were getting married in June. She had nearly sent Esther and Mikael to the grave. To think a man had gone without their strict father vetting him first, it was unheard of, but it was happening. They would have to adapt.

He can't exactly hear as Rebekah harshly whispers, beginning to get upset when it becomes apparent her way is even up for debate. "When was the last time you two even spoke?" He makes out from their quiet conversation.

Father Saltzman exchanges a look with him, raising his eyebrows before clearing his throat to intervene. "Alright, how about we leave that for the next session." He flips through a little brown journal in search of a way to dissipate the tension.

Rebekah visibly calms in her seat, but Klaus knows better than to believe his sister would just drop it so casually. She is not one to go out without a fight—fair or not.

"So, pre-marital sex…" "Father Saltzman tries, straight faced as ever, "What are our thoughts on that?"

Stefan tenses and Klaus pities the poor man for a moment before he pushes back his seat with an ugly screech. He excuses himself momentarily, needing to desperately get out of this situation. There is no way he is about to discuss his sister's sex life with a priest, no matter how serious either one of them consider it.

He maneuvers through the narrow corridors of the church, and he hastily stops before the vestibule to dip his fingers in some holy water. It even feels sacrilegious but Klaus doesn't overthink it, because it is becoming stiflingly hot in the chapel and there is a cigarette in his pocket calling his name.

Caroline grips the armrests of her seat tightly as the airplane descends. She has never had a problem before; yet she figures her lack of flying experience warrant her to be cautious. Elijah, she figured out, is to make a temporary stop in Richmond, where he has business to attend to, before he is to make the drive to Mystic Falls.

"Perhaps you can show me around once I arrive?" He is charming and polite, and she cannot turn down his request, although she's already spotted a lack of tan in the shape of a narrow band on his left hand ring finger.

She calms before labeling herself as paranoid, writing off the man's friendliness towards her simple manners. And good ones, too. He is a proper gentleman and offers to help her with her overhead carry on. Caroline smiles, declining his offer.

There is no way she is getting off this plane until the flight attendant with the broad shoulders himself, comes and wrests her behind from the seat. Until then, she figures she can use some more peace and calm. Gathering her thoughts has never been more important.

After five minutes pass, she can tell that the post-flight clapping buzz has faded, and the stewardesses are looking annoyed at her for making this longer and harder than it has to be.

With two stubborn pulls, she has her carry-on luggage in tow, and she is walking the narrow crossway to the terminal; following the signs directing her to baggage claim. She never has been one to pack light.

The airport in Richmond is big, and she could easily get lost in the swarm of people making layovers, or arriving to their final destination. There masses at baggage claim are unforgiving and she gets elbowed and pushed aside, by several rude tourists.

Four incoming flights are dispatching suitcases from the same conveyor belt, and she waits rather impatiently until she sees her bright yellow suitcase. Rather hard to miss.

Once she is outside by the curbside check-in, testing her luck with a cab, she decides to turn on her phone. There are not many times when one could say Caroline Salvatore is disconnected from the world. If anything, she is very much so involved. But she feels anxious as an influx of messages and voice calls she missed while on the flight, begin to pour into their respective inboxes with sequential vibrating sounds.

There is no point in reading the messages now, basically in the middle of the street, and she can't promise she will make an effort of getting to them later.

A cabbie honks in her general direction, lowers the window and peers out curiously at her. He has an accent and she is intrigued, "Hey blondie, where to?"

"Mystic Falls." She is hopeful that he will be willing to drive the two and a half hour drive to her hometown.

The cabbie gets out of the car to assist her with her heavy luggage, and Caroline decides to relax. "Hop in."

Releasing a breath she is sure has been pent up since last week when she received her new deadline, Caroline feels her body drain of the negative energy and worries that clouded her mind in New York. Of course, the trip back gives her ample time to worry about the new negative energies and drama that will ultimately surround her in Mystic Falls, but Caroline decides to push that to the very back of her mind.

Right now, her only focus is resting her head on the uncomfortable windowpane and attempting to get some shuteye throughout the drive back.

Rebekah's knuckles are white the way she clutches the steering wheel. Klaus is certain she is going to break a nail, or worse, pop a vein in her neck the way she is silently seething. Any kindness that had inhabited her body when she met Father Saltzman is now long gone.

"The nerve of that man." She bitterly mutters to herself, pressing down on the gas.

Klaus is unsure whether to laugh or hold harder onto the passenger seat. Stefan is back at the hospital, tending to the sick and needy, and he thinks he might be sick the way Rebekah is accelerating down the empty streets.

He knows not to bring up the subject, judging by the way Rebekah stormed out of Fell's Church with her high heels digging holes in the cement courtyard. He had barely gotten through half of his cigarette.

Now, he chuckles amusedly under his breath, lest his sister hear him and think she is being mocked. She is, but Klaus isn't willing to play with fire.

From what he knows, Rebekah has been staying with Stefan's family. Apparently, they had a boarding house. Not bad for small towners. He hasn't yet dropped off his stuff at the house, mostly due to Rebekah's insistence in the morning.

"So, is it always this hot?" Klaus tries, hoping that if he deflects the conversation subtly to a safer subject Rebekah will ease up.

No such luck. "Shut it Nik!"

Soon enough, the car pulls up to a long driveway, and a long, brown, German-style house comes into view. Klaus figures it would be more scenic if it didn't blend into the large trees.

From his spot in the passenger seat he feels curious eyes on him, and a blind closes abruptly as he redirects his attention to one of the larger windows on the main level of the house.

His sister is silent, and she walks quickly into the house without a word. It puzzles him what exactly could have been said in the twelve minutes he was gone that cut the meeting short and left Rebekah in such a bratty mood.

It seems the Salvatores have become accustomed to his sister's characteristic Mikaelson temper, because the door is left open and no one flinches as she storms right up the stairs and slams a door. Klaus feels weird walking in without knocking, but his sister is undisposed to properly introducing him to her in-laws.

Immediately as he enters, a middle-aged blonde woman with the warmest smile he has ever seen comes bounding out of the shadows of the dark living room, and uncertainly sticks her hand out.

"You must be…" He smirks, as she has to mull it over a moment, him being one of five boys. He can't really blame her. "Niklaus? I'm Liz Forbes."

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, admiring the way she gets it spot on. "That would be me," he grins, returning her handshake, "Pleasure to meet you."

A raven-haired man walks past him unassumingly, rolling his eyes as he goes. Liz gives him a trenchant glare, her lips drawn into a tight line. "Excuse my son's manners, Damon!"

Damon, he assumes, halts for a moment, contemplating whether to turn around or continue. "Mom…" He lilts, a teasing tone to his voice. Klaus feels uneasy as his big, icy blue eyes give him a once over.

"Damon, go get Klaus's bags from the trunk." There's another eye roll there, and he can sense a snarky comment just dying to come out.

This man has a horrible attitude, and Klaus can't help but think how already he has struck a nerve, not that he'd say anything. "What am I, the help?" Damon asks indignantly, "Barbie Bitch can't even take care of her own damn brother?"

He's outside with the slam of a door. Klaus thinks Liz's eyes might fall out with how hard she is glowering at her son. She looks absolutely red in the face with embarrassment.

"You'll have to excuse him," She apologizes on his behalf, "He is…" She can't bring herself to even finish the sentence, but Klaus supposes he can understand, his sister can be a little high maintenance.

He brushes it off with the casual wave of a hand, "It's fine, water under the bridge." He smiles to hide how uncomfortable he really feels, enveloped by terse silence and hostility. And he's yet to meet Stefan's father. Lucky Rebekah who gets to deal with them.

Klaus wonders where his room is, and whether he'll have to share with his brothers once they arrive from their respective destinations. But he also doesn't want to come off as rude. He is about to make some trivial comment about the décor when a door slams in the driveway.

His mind is distracted for a moment, and he trails his eyes to a demure figure walking up the driveway. Though not as tall as Damon, and obviously more feminine, the striking raven hair and icy blue eyes stand out.

He is confused as keys jingle in the door. He hears Damon complaining in the foyer, and his luggage makes it to the foot of the stairs, his sister's soon-to-be brother in law disappearing up them.

Liz smiles as she has been doing for the past five minutes he's been in the living room, and Klaus watches in confusion as a sterner woman comes up to him, offering her hand to shake.

"Hi, I'm Lily Salvatore," Her smile is definitely more forced than Liz's, "Stefan's mother."

And it takes everything in him to not burst out laughing at the entire situation.

When they had been kids, their parents had taken them to church every Thursday and Sunday. It was normal growing up to go straight to CCD after regular day school, and even those classes were at a private, Roman Catholic institution.

Mikael, their father, is a rather stern man. He believes in morals and religious values being the backbone of good character. Of course now one of his precious daughters is engaging in pre-marital sex, his second to youngest son is always caught up in all kinds of drunken debauchery. And then there's him, Niklaus who Mikael always has a bone to pick with, and he's sure it's because he walked out on Henrik's baptism when he was sixteen and damned it all to Hell.

Esther is too much of a righteous bitch to say anything aloud, as she fears it will look bad, but all the kids know she pretends to pray for them to feel better about herself.

And now here is Rebekah, Esther's favorite, about to take on the namesake of a family of liberal—lesbians, at that. Oh, Klaus can just see her hammering down the final nails on Mikael's coffin.

He focuses on something else for the meanwhile, and stays quiet as he listens to Liz Forbes talk about cocktail napkins as they walk to the kitchen. As an artist he is very aware that periwinkle and lavender are starkly different shades, but as a man, he could not care less.

Lily Salvatore is not a pleasant woman, and she had excused herself not a second after shaking his hand. Thankfully, her equally unpleasant son Damon had followed suit. Liz, he can tell, is thankful no big deal was made over the L word.

So now he sits discussing Rebekah's meticulously detailed decorations for the sit down dinner with a woman who he feels is just as uninterested as he is. Oh how he loves awkward small talk.

Klaus feels relief when he hears his sister's heels click as she floats down the stairs. She seems more composed now than before, and eases a tentative smile onto her face, taking a seat beside Liz at the kitchen table.

"I think the periwinkle is nicer, don't you?" Rebekah smiles, and Klaus watches as the two interact. Liz grins with a nurturing affection that is unknown to him, the same kind that had been absent throughout most of his childhood, save for the few moments his own mother was not heavily intoxicated or pretending to care.

His heart warms as Rebekah rests her head on Liz's shoulder. He can see clearly what is so endearing about Stefan to her, even if the other half of his family seems to have been dragged to Earth from the most uncultured, ill-mannered corner of civilization.

Liz stands up once the moment passes, leaving his sister to sit across from him with her hands on her lap. Rebekah does not need to say anything. They are accustomed to their outbursts, and quite forgiving about it.

The older blonde woman bounces around the kitchen though, leaving the room light and comfortably quiet. He does not feel like small talk with his sister, as he fears it will entail more wedding talk he cares not for. If he could skip a conversation on seating arrangements and napkin holders he figures he will live.

Different cherry wood cupboards open and slam shut and he observes Stefan's mom while she gathers ingredients.

He breaks the silence, "Rebekah, love, will you show me to my room?"

Rebekah looks to Liz, who wipes her hands on her jeans, her eyebrows raised as though she has just remembered something. She might forget the pan she just now placed over open flame, he thinks, if she continues fidgeting.

"Oh my goodness," she exclaims, looking rather sorry, "I completely forgot, the two guest bedrooms are in repair, Lily decided before we knew the wedding date…" She rambles and Klaus stares amused as she bounces from one corner of the kitchen to other deciding what to do in this situation.

His sister speaks up, assuring Liz all is well, "It's fine, really, Nik can rent a room in town."

Liz shakes her head as if it is the most absurd thing she has ever heard. "Nonsense," her tone holds determination, "He can stay in Damon's room."

Klaus tenses up at that, wondering how someone as astute as Liz seems to be could miss the fact that her insufferable son would never put up with it. Although he is the only Mikaelson sibling staying at the Boarding house until the wedding—the rest all flying in for the rehearsal dinner a week and a half from now—he has a borderline supernatural inkling that Damon Salvatore shares animosity towards his sister, and surely thinks of this as imposing.

As if on cue, Damon comes zooming through the kitchen archway, a sense of hearing almost as supernatural. "No way!" He argues, "No way am I sharing my room with anyone, I don't care how whipped Stefan is."

There is a sigh from Liz and a scoff from Rebekah. Klaus doesn't know whether to laugh at how utterly intolerable this man gets by the minute, or scowl at him.

"Don't mind him, he has the manners of a wild boar." Rebekah sneers almost like she can read his thoughts, "We'll find you somewhere to stay."

With what seems to be a sliver of niceness antithetical to the outright snarky attitude he has witnessed, Damon offers a solution, "Why doesn't he just stay in Care Bear's room?"

He says this with the smuggest tone of voice, patting himself on the back for having thought of it while the rest of them struggled for a fix, but Liz stiffens and Klaus smirks at the nickname. Perhaps they had a grandchild Rebekah had failed to mention.

"No, she's coming." Liz says with a final voice, "Klaus is staying with you."

For a moment it almost seems Damon might stomp on the ground and whine like a petulant child—it wouldn't be too far off—but he fights back the order as maturely and adamantly as he can. "Yeah and she told you?" His voice is dripping with sarcasm and if he wasn't just a stranger to him, Klaus might say hurt. "When's the last time she's ever been home."

So it's a she then.

"I called her." Liz says, which has Damon taken aback, and even Rebekah is surprised from where she stands. Klaus can only muster confusion. "She is coming to the wedding."

"Don't be delusional. I already said he isn't rooming with me." A nasty scoff comes from Damon, who scowls at his mom resolutely. Would Klaus really be so bad a roommate for a week or two? The lack of politeness and willingness to accommodate is truly astounding.

The back door slams shut with a jolt, Damon's definitive and final "No." echoing in the kitchen as he walks through the wooded backyard area. They all revel in the stunned silence.

Liz looks upset at what he has said, and Klaus momentarily wonders why it is so important that this Care Bear—he is assuming their as a proper identity to the moniker—comes back.

Just at that moment, Lily walks into the awkwardly quiet kitchen, seeming to have heard it all from wherever she had disappeared to.

Her face is firm and her eyes are cold, and he can see Liz's heart break as she backs Damon up. "He's right." She spares a glance in Klaus's direction, "He can stay in Caroline's room."

Care bear…Caroline. So that is the mysterious person that had been mentioned at least ten times in the past five minutes. It makes sense. His intrigue with Rebekah's in laws only increases.

Klaus is ready to go get his luggage from the foyer and follow Liz up the stairs, but he falters for a moment when he sees her shoulders sag, sulking as Lily bitterly mutters what it seems they have been skirting around.

"It's not like she's coming back anyway."

Caroline startles awake, her head knocking against the window as the cab comes to a screeching halt. The impact is enough to rattle her brain, and she momentarily forgets where she is. In the back of a cab in what is certainly not New York, but Mystic Falls.

Her body feels unnaturally cold. She would recognize the Wickery Bridge anywhere.

"Sorry, doll." The accented cabbie breaks her from her reverie, mustering an apologetic smile through the rearview mirror.

She manages a smile, nodding to signal she's okay. However, she is confused. This is not the address she gave him, and she feels unnerved as the cab sits motionless over the rickety old bridge on the outside of town.

"I don't quite know where to go from here," He says, answering her questions, "The road diverges over there." The dark haired man points to where trees begin to cluster behind the white oak bridge sign.

Caroline sits up straighter in the backseat, clearing her throat to shake the rasp, "Take a left," she says, filled with nervous anticipation and a little bit of dread, "if you take a right it'll lead you straight to the falls."

She whispers the last half of that more to herself than anything. It amazes her how she still remembers everything, like she hasn't been living a one hour airplane ride away for the past few years. Of course, Caroline knows better than to fool herself will this silly though. Mystic Falls is no longer the town she left behind.

Things are different now, and no matter how hard she tries to pretend that the same shell of a town hasn't been fazed by her departure, she knows the people have internal scars she had a role in creating.

The cabbie nods obligingly, and mindlessly drums on the steering wheel as he takes the upcoming turn. There is a smaller fork in the road right ahead, she wants to say, and it leads to her house, but she holds back.

"A penny for your thoughts?" He hasn't spoken to her all ride, but then again she was asleep for most of the car's journey. Oh, God. Had she drooled?

His voice is lighthearted, and Caroline tries to match that, but it's hard to ignore the way her fingers cling to the backseat like she's afraid to let go, or else she'll have to suffer seeing her family. She is pensive for a moment, and he gives her a weird look through the mirror.

"Something looks like it's eating you up inside." He couldn't have described it more perfectly, for that's exactly how she feels but again she refrains from saying anything.

It isn't that she's at a loss for words, but Caroline doesn't know how to phrase it, where to even begin. She settles for a meek, "I guess."

A laugh breaks her composure, "Oh come on love, there's got to be more to that story."

Usually, she would be annoyed at such intrusive behavior. But something about this cab driver makes her want to spill her secrets. Caroline thinks that maybe if she lays out all the baggage she carries, it can stay in the car and she can get out and walk the rest of the way like nothing ever happened. Like it can't affect her anymore.

"It's a long story." She doesn't know if she has time to say it all in the seven minutes left of the car ride.

"Tell you what," the driver senses her discomfort and eases the tension, "We'll have a normal conversation and try to forget all about it. Alright?"

Caroline smiles, deciding that it is in fact, too long of a story to tell. She'll have to keep carrying it with her, she supposes. "Okay."

"I'll start." He gives a playful smirk, "I'm Enzo, and you?"

She grins at his nonchalant tone, deciding she appreciates his kind gesture. "I'm Caroline."

They spend the next six minutes and thirteen seconds of the way talking about trivial things, like how the weather is about to get sticky and gross with summer fast approaching, and how she can appreciate a nice ballet. He tells her how he has a drinking buddy he met in Williamsburg that was coincidentally from Mystic Falls. She counters with a story about how in her prime, she could drink him and his buddy under the table.

He laughs and she finds herself easing up, even if it isn't genuine happiness or comfort. In the moment though, she feels brave enough to walk into her house.

Before she realizes, Enzo pulls up to her long driveway, letting out a whistle in surprise. "Nice place," He says, and she giggles at his reaction.

"Thanks," it stings a bit to follow up with, "It isn't mine." It once was though. She may not consider it her own now, but she'd been princess of this castle for a good eighteen years.

Enzo helps her with her luggage, and jokingly squeezes her into an obnoxiously tight hug when she tips him generously. He slides a card with his number into her hand, making Caroline promise that she'll call if she needs him.

"Remember, gorgeous," He says, getting into the driver's seat, "I'm a ring a way."

She waves goodbye with a wide smile, shouting, "I will." as he approaches the end of the driveway. There is no turning back now, she realizes, once he is out of sight and out of earshot. She can phone him, but she chooses not to. It's time to face her problems head on.

Caroline coaches herself through a few deep breaths before she can turn around and walk towards the door. The wheels of her bright yellow suitcase squeak as she drags them across the paved brick entryway, and she wonders if the door is open or if the spare key her mom used to keep inside the fake rock still resides there.

To her relief, the door is open, and she steps into a quiet foyer. Any other day a few years ago, and the house would have been bustling life. Had she still been fifteen Stefan and the football team would be having burgers in the yard, her pompoms would be strewn across the table by the door, and Damon would be arguing with Liz about extending his curfew. "Mom I'm turning nineteen, this is ridiculous." and of course, he was known for his infamous, "You're ruining my life."

Liz would shake her head and mutter something or other about how he was still living under her roof and so he had to follow her rules. Lily would agree and back her up on it, a unified and impenetrable parenting front. Of course when Liz isn't looking, Lily would hand Damon the keys to her car so he could go see Elena.

Elena. She doesn't allow herself to dwell on the name more than necessary. She can't allow herself. The picture of the past quickly fades away, and with it, it takes their carefree attitudes and genuine laughter. They are all bitter assholes now, even Liz, who may not be an asshole, but who forgets to mask her bitterness sometimes.

And so Caroline steps back into the present, becoming alert when she hears faint voices from coming from the kitchen. She wants to drop her bags off in her room, but she refrains from doing so, deciding there is no better moment to face her family. She hears two accented voices, and her mother's laugh.

The kitchen smells like spices, and it reminds her of the chili she and her mom would prepare for the Mystic Falls Founder's Parade luncheon every year. Caroline would always help in the kitchen, and the day of the event, she would parade in one of the floats and her mom would pass out the chili. They were quite a pair.

Another blonde is seated at the table, but doesn't notice her. Both her mom and a man she's never seen before have their backs turned towards her.

Caroline clears her throat, causing the room to go silent instantly. Liz looks like she has seen a ghost, and the blonde looks surprised more than anything. She must be her brother's fiancée. The man turns slowly, but he seems more confused than the rest of them. She frankly has no idea who he may be, though the resemblance indicates he might be the fiancée—Rebekah's—family.

Liz is spluttering like a fish out of water, and Caroline can't even conjure up the thought of anyone else's reactions to her return. Her mom stands frozen in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do for a second.

She snaps out of it though, because in the blink of an eye she is in front of Caroline, extending her arms and enveloping her into a bone-crushing hug that leaves her gasping for air almost.

"My baby." She hears Liz exclaim, and a small smile etches its way onto her face.

Caroline sighs, melting into her mother's hug, and she realizes in that moment just how much she needs it. Her day has been a whirlwind.

After what feels like an eternity, Liz unwraps herself from her, smiling so brightly that she feels guilty for being away so long. She can tell her mom wants to offer food immediately, but instead Liz redirects Caroline's attention to the other two individuals awkwardly watching them reunite.

"Oh where are my manners?" Liz laughs, her voice shaky from the impact of the surprise, "This is Stefan's fiancée, Rebekah."

The woman seems to be younger than her, and she has a forced smile on her face. Caroline doesn't know how to greet her, really. It's not like she has been a constant in Stefan's life the past couple of years, and it'll feel fake to regard Rebekah as anything but a stranger. She can tell the thin blonde shares those sentiments. The girl probably feels resentment towards her if Stefan does, though she hopes she wants her sister in law to like her.

"Nice to meet you." Rebekah says, shaking her hand, as a hug would be far too uncomfortable for the both of them.

"Pleasure." Caroline manages a polite smile, before her mother is moving on to the other guest at the table.

She focuses on him for the first time, having rushed over to her mother when she walked in earlier. Now that she sees him clearly she feels her breath catch in her throat. He is beautiful, with piercing blue eyes, and high cheekbones, and broad shoulders contained in a blood red, cotton Henley. Caroline has to fight the urge to gawk at him.

Her mother's voice sounds distant as she introduces them. "This is Rebekah's older brother, Niklaus."

Caroline is barely listening, and her expression is unreadable, though she realizes she might be staring. He comes up to her, a knowing smirk on his face as though he knows her, and heart stutters.

He sticks out his hand for her to shake, and Caroline feels entranced by the way he moves with such confident swagger and poise. She has to brace herself when he speaks.

"Niklaus is the name my father gave me," He smiles warmly, but it reads danger, she can sense it from a mile away. "Please, call me Klaus."