He left on what would have been her 19th birthday, just a year after saving her life with his blood and promising her the genuine beauty of the world. Honestly, she couldn't blame him, nor could she forgive him. He had killed Tyler's mother, drowning her in a fountain in the middle of town. She had plotted to kill him over and over again while pretending (not pretending) to share a "thing" with him. He never said goodbye.

On her 20th birthday, she came in from a quiet dinner with her mom to find a piece of parchment on her bed. Surprisingly, it wasn't a sketch of her, but a self-portrait, his eyes sad. It made her cry and miss him just a bit. It had been a long year without him around, though, admittedly much more peaceful. Talk of a cure for Elena had dissipated as she wasn't interested in being cured and he had given up on a family (army) of hybrids, realizing that they would never be loyal to him.

Five years went by with no word from him, though news had trickled through here and there. New Orleans was once again a thriving beacon of vampirism with him ruling as king. Some of the others had been down there, not to visit, but for other reasons. It was the night of her 25th birthday and she was in New York City, having a girls' weekend with Elena, Bonnie and, to her surprise, Meredith, who had become a good friend. They were sitting in a jazz club, enjoying the music, when the waiter approached with a drink for her, nodding over to the bar. She caught a glimpse of him before he disappeared. Ignoring the drink, she jumped up, flashing out the door, but he was gone.

Her mother died just 2 days before her 35th birthday, bringing her back to Mystic Falls from her small house on the North Shore of Oahu, where she had taken up painting. She had been inconsolable, unable to accept the status of orphan. Stefan tried, explaining that she still had all of them, but it wasn't the same. This was the last bit of her humanity, fading away for eternity. She'd left them all at the boarding house, mourning her mother, to return to her mother's empty home. She found him sitting on the bed in her old room as if he'd just been there yesterday. He said nothing, opening his arms as she rushed to his side, finally releasing the sobs she had held in for the last 3 days. He stroked her hair, whispering so quietly that she couldn't make out what he said. It didn't matter. He was here. She fell asleep in his arms, only to wake in the morning to find him gone.

Her 50th birthday found her living in the mountains of Colorado, sharing a large home with the Salvatores and Elena. She wouldn't have considered it a possibility back in her baby-vamp days, but this was her family, even Damon, who, though still his snarky self, had redeemed himself through his love for Elena. Surprisingly, Stefan had let go of his pain and maintained a long-distance relationship with a vampire he'd met while visiting her in Hawaii a few years back. After a day of skiing and celebrating her golden birthday, she found herself sitting on the porch alone, sipping a glass of wine. The air was crisp and cold, and vibrating with an energy that alerted her to his presence before she actually saw him.

"Happy Birthday, love," he said with a wisp of a kiss along her cheek. He looked the same, blond curly hair, blue eyes worthy of getting lost in, that smile that had always managed to draw her in.

"I've missed you," she whispered.

"Looking at you, somehow I doubt that," he smirked, looking around at the beauty of their surroundings. "You look very content."

"Content, maybe, but something's missing," she answered with a yearning in her voice.

"Not yet, sweetheart," and like that, he was gone.

After her 60th birthday and no sign of him, she started looking for him. She left her friends and started in New Orleans, though after all these years that was pretty much a dead-end. She went to those places he promised her, Paris, Rome, Tokyo, taking in all that these cities had to offer, but more importantly asking questions that no one could or wouldn't answer. She stumbled upon Elijah in London, but he hadn't seen his brother in twenty years, hadn't heard from him in ten. She stayed in London, sleeping in Elijah's guest bedroom, hoping he would turn up. 30 years later, she still had no news of him. She'd cried in Elijah's arms one night, fearing he was dead, which caused Elijah to laugh, which he very rarely did.

By her 95th birthday after traveling the world looking for him, she had decided to settle down back in Mystic Falls. Everyone she knew there was either dead or living somewhere else. Though the town had changed considerably, it was still home and she needed to spend some time there. She spent her days writing, a habit she'd picked up from Elijah. She wrote for hours, sometimes chronicling her life experiences, sometimes writing an angst-filled love story with a happy ending and sometimes she just wrote about him.

By her 98th birthday she'd stopped feeling the days and years. She had let go of the anxiety of life passing her by and now just stopped to enjoy it. The Salvatore boarding house was, once again, filled with friends and family, new and old. She loved having her family close by, and felt that contentment once again that she'd felt all those years ago in Colorado.

The day of her 100th birthday she spent alone, in the house she'd grown up in. Caroline lay on her bed, facing the hallway, in the bedroom that was hers all those years ago. She marveled at how she hadn't physically changed a bit. Her hair, though many different colors through the years, was back to its natural blonde and her pale skin still glowed with youth. She ran her hands down her body, still curvy in all the right spots. She couldn't help recall that birthday, 82 years ago, when Klaus had walked into this room and opened her eyes to what it meant to be a vampire and how the whole world was hers for the taking. She hadn't believed him then, not able to see past her teenage years. It had been 50 years since she'd last seen him, sitting on the balcony of her Colorado house. He was right about the world, the music, the art, the genuine beauty waiting for her out there. She'd seen it all, and while she had marveled at it, a hollowness had existed that had never been filled.

She felt the sudden shift in the air and there he was. A sob caught in her throat, seeing him after all these years, yet, somehow like it was just yesterday. He stood at the side of her bed, reminiscent of that birthday so long ago, and smiled gently at her.

"You're here," she said, reaching out to him. He took her offered hand.

"Of course, it's your birthday," he answered simply.

She arched an eyebrow at him as if to remind him of the last 50 years. Shrugging his shoulders, he simply said, "You weren't ready, sweetheart," he sat down on the bed next to her, stroking her arm, causing her to shiver.

"Am I ready now?" she asked, once again that vulnerable girl dying from a werewolf bite.

He leaned in close, his lips hovering inches from her own, his blue eyes staring into hers, answering simply, "Yes."