A/N: Born from a simple need to write something. When I daydream about, live and breathe Klaroline, about what else would I write? It didn't go the way I predicted and I'm not sure I like it, but I had to write it. That exactly shows something I do NOT wanna see in the series, but I am simply afraid something similar will take place somewhere near episode 20.

With a dedication for Klaroliners worried about the future of our ship, in particular the one from the 'real life' :) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries, neither Klaus nor Caroline.

Colorful landscapes were winding behind the windscreen. Scents of spring were bursting into the car. Sounds of traffic and city life were seeping through the open windows.

He didn't see the landscapes. He didn't feel the scents. He didn't hear the sounds.

But it would be wrong to say 'he didn't feel'. Because he felt. He felt more things than during last hundred years of his life. He didn't want it. He had tried to turn it off, but he just couldn't. So he had simply left, leaving Mystic Falls behind him. He would like to tell 'leaving feelings behind him', but that definitely wasn't the truth.

He had fled. Almost fearless, Original hybrid who detested running away, had just fled. But this escape was something completely different from constant getaways from Mikael's hands. He had always lived in fear, trying to survive, but there had been times when he just lived, not remembering his vengeful father. This time... This time he was sure he will never be able to forget what chased him away. He will never forget the pain that he had seen in her eyes. She had made him sure of that.

He shook his head, trying to banish such thoughts from his head, but they were stubborn. Something was eating him from the inside. Something new, something he had never experienced before. But he knew all too well what it was.

It was Shame.

During all his un-dead life he hadn't have a sense of guilt one single time. He had crossed every border, broken every moral rule, behaved beyond every ethic codex. He hadn't known shame. Until now.

Some scenes from last days were on constant replay in his head. He couldn't make it stop. This damned, wild five-lettered word broke a 'stop' button.

Her face was an everlasting element of this display. Her fury, her anger, her uncertainty from last week. Her joy, her smile, her guilt from the day before yesterday. And, finally, her pain, her sadness, her despair from yesterday. Plus her hatred, which he had seen for the first time.

She had told she hated him after receiving the final letter from her doggy boyfriend, before they had spent few days working together on finding Silas. She hadn't meant what she said. She had told him she hated him after their argument which was partly about Hayley, before he closed her lips with a passionate kiss. She hadn't meant what she said either. She had told him she hated him after he had taken from her another thing she loved. And this time she had meant it.

He leant against the backrest and closed his eyes. He didn't care he was currently driving. But even with his eyes closed, he still saw it. Her eyes full of hatred. Her face distorted by pain. Her fists clenched in pure helplessness. Her hot tears, running down her cheeks.

He felt his own nails scratching his skin. He hadn't let her die physically many times. But, in the end, he had been the one who killed her mentally.

Why? Why had he let that happen exactly in that moment? Not when she had hated him because that was the right thing, not when she had been blindly in love with her boyfriend and treated him like an intrusive fly, but exactly when she had started being his?

He could recapture in detail the moment she had given up fighting her feelings for him. The moment she had been his. For the first and the last time. She had let her own desire take control over her. She had let him kiss and undress her. But she hadn't been passive through the rest of that night. That had been the best sex for both of them, even if she would never admit it. He just knew it. The next day she had been in a denial, overwhelmed by sense of guilt, but still, she had managed to smile at him. She had smiled at him, and what had he done the same day? He had ruined everything that had been there to ruin.

Maybe that was the point of his every action. Maybe, subconsciously, he had always wanted to make her hate him. If that was the point, he had succeeded.

That was one of possible explanations. The second was cruel, but maybe also more real. He had just been himself. A big, bad hybrid, who didn't care about anything. Who simply couldn't love. So why would he bother with someone as unimportant as a little, young, blond vampire who possessed his heart?

He growled and finally opened his eyes. It was a miracle that he didn't cause an accident yet. All this talking and thinking about feelings, hearts, love – it was so tiring. It wasn't like him. He was supposed to be heartless, emotionless. Why wasn't he like that?

I know that you love me, her voice spoke in his head, uninvited. And anyone capable of love is capable of being saved.

She had been right, he was in love with her. But that didn't mean he was capable of being saved. Apparently, he wasn't.

Familiar sound reached his ears. Police siren. He looked at the wing mirror. They were definitely after him. A little bit unconsciously, he pulled over. The policeman approached his car.

'Are you aware of your speed, sir?' The officer asked after short introduction that he wasn't interested in.

'Sure, mate,' he answered, not vouchsafing the man with a glimpse.

'I am not your mate,' the policeman said angrily, stepping back from the car. 'Leave your vehicle, please.'

'No problem.' He went out from his car, already sure of what to do with a human. When he turned to the officer, prepared for the attack, he saw pure fright in man's eyes. 'That's more of an attitude,' he smirked before sinking his teeth into the policeman's neck with warm, addicting blood. Another officer left the police car, screaming something, but he didn't even hear it. Snapping human's neck was so quick and simple. And the blood...

It suddenly hit him that the last blood he felt in his mouth belonged to someone with 'Forbes' in their name. And that two bodies lying on the ground strangely resembled two bodies lying on the ground the day before. One with a broken neck – that would be her friend, what was his name exactly? Right, Matt. The footballer. The other body drained from blood – that would be sheriff. Elizabeth Forbes. No one important. Just her mother.

He spun around, coming back to his car. Yes, he had killed them. Her ex-boyfriend and her mother. Why? Because they had tried to do what everyone seemed to try for a long time – to give him the cure, so he would no longer be a threat. He didn't find out why humans were the one assigned to this task and not vampires. Nevertheless, they had failed. Very badly.

He had acted like he had always acted – impulsively, without thinking. Well, not exactly. The thought of her had always been present in his head, so just before killing them, he had given them his blood. So he hadn't actually killed them, like kill kill. He had only made them not-living anymore.

He didn't know why he had done it. Why he had killed them when he could have done something else as a punishment and why he had given them his blood. He was simply clueless. Maybe it was a matter of never-ending fight between darkness and lightness that his heart and mind were playing every time he saw her. Maybe it was a matter of some entertainment he couldn't fully understand. Maybe some part of him had naively thought she would be grateful for giving them eternal lives. He didn't know.

She hadn't been initiated in this stupid plan of Mystic Falls Gang. She and Stefan had been left out of it. He was glad they hadn't known about it. Because otherwise he would have to fight the urge to kill them. And he didn't like fighting the urge to kill anybody. Although he knew all too well he wouldn't kill her nor the younger Salvatore.

He entered the car and started the engine. What he also knew was the fact that she will never forgive him for what he had done. She'll hate him for the rest of the eternity. Which was quite a long time for a vampire. He, on the other hand, will never be able to forget her. For the rest of the eternity.

Maybe that was better for her. She will find someone caring, not wanting to kill her friends and destroy everything she loved. She will be happy. And he will feel free to kill Tyler and make her hate him even more than she already did. If she ever finds out about it, of course.

In fact, he was even sure it was better for her. Because he wasn't made to be loved. He was made to be hatred. To make people frightened. He was made to kill. Not to love.

Fire and ice couldn't peacefully exist together. Devils and angels couldn't have each other's hearts. That was simply impossible.

He had no idea where he was going. His destination was very rough: far away from Mystic Falls, far away from the pain he had caused her. Partly for her own sake and partly due to a fact he wouldn't be able to look at her hating him so much. Maybe he will go and totally destroy some village. Maybe it will help him kill his love for her and drown it in blood. Maybe. Or maybe it will help him regain some of the dignity and reputation he had lost by loving her. Maybe. Or maybe not.

He passed a road-sign saying: 'New Orleans'. He didn't realise he was driving long enough to reach Louisiana.

New Orleans... Why not stay there? He had some memories connected with this city, some mates to visit. And there was no other place in this country better to drown sins in bigger ones than New Orleans.

Far away from Mystic Falls, from last year's events, from feelings, from her. A perfect location. He will stay here.

It was a quick decision. Shall it be. Goodbye Mystic Falls.

Welcome New Orleans.