(CHAPTER TEN :
HOME, BITTERSWEET HOME)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

CHESHIRE CAT GRINNING, I found my heart beating at a human rate, an unusual feature for a vampire. Not that I could control it, reading the rectangle that read 'WELCOME TO PORTLAND' had me nervous. Something I would only ever admit in my head. Even if I was a little anxious, it was refreshing to be at peace in my hometown, escaping from the drama or Mystic Falls for once. Moreover, to escape the Mikaelsons.

Honestly, I was drawn home without justification. The Hatton Clan had long since passed, the only relative of mine now being a distant descendant of a second cousin. I knew that because I returned once, a new owner residing in my home. Once I ended my decade long ripper bend, I went to Portland that Summer of 1921. In my mind, I thought speaking with my Mother again would give me an incentive to keep in control and not revert to my previous ways, I needed a reason to value human life again. But, I was left disappointed after discovering she had died. I didn't return to my ripper tendencies, instead I became hallow and abandoned my only friend. In saying that, we did find our way back to each other eventually, during the 1990s to be exact. Damon never did completely forgive me for cutting him out my life because I was mourning the woman that had been nothing except judgemental and controlling to me. Not that he understood. When my Father died and I was distant after discovering Kol's secret, she was all I had.

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PORTLAND, OREGON [1908]

"Charlotte, my dear." She was tall, a little on the lanky side, and unfamiliar, but the stranger knew me enough to kiss each side of my cheek, engulfing me into an airtight hug. "I offer my condolences. He was a good man, that will be his legacy." She insisted, tracing calming circles on my back.

It was his funeral today, Father's. And the service was exclusive, but there were still faces I didn't recognise. All of them were merely bodies clothed in black, brimming with smiles of insincerity. Each one of them were fake, mumbling a half-hearted 'sorry for your loss' whilst drinking whiskey. If any of them really knew him, they would have had enough respect to give him a good service. No matter how much I wanted a private event, Mother told me he would have wanted more than the two of us to lay him to rest. I disagreed.

"You look terrible." Kol breathed, taking long strides to move closer to me. During times like this, his brutality was needed because I was out of touch from reality. I had barricaded myself into my Father's study since his sudden death.

I offered Kol a curt nod, not having the energy to pretend in front of him. Not even with the exceptional circumstances would I speak to him though, I was stubborn and refused to forgive him for hiding his true self from me. Rather childishly, I zip-locked my lips shut.

"Speak." He demanded, cautiously pushing a stray strand of my hair behind my ears. "Pl——Fine, if you won't be honest of your own accord, I will force it out of you. I want to know how you feel, Charlotte, you're damn hard to read when you are being difficult like this." Apparently, my ears deceived me because I almost thought he said 'please.' Instead, he turned the tables on me.

I locked my jaw, unable to keep silence for a second longer. He knew how to get me fired up and loved having that power over me. "Difficult?" I reiterated, snorting. "Beg my pardon for being difficult, Kol. I am sorry my Father is dead and I am wishing it was me instead." I choked out, unable to stop talking once I began. "I failed at making him proud, I wish I was the one being chewed up by the maggots instead of him. But, I am here and I should be thankful for that. I have been told I am strong today and I am brave, yet I have not been told once how to move forward with my life knowing I was a disgrace to him." I expressed my frustration, unable to lie to him and unable to confess the entire truth to him at the same time. In my rage, it never once crossed my mind to hurt the man by admitting a part of me blamed him.

"Forgive me, I don't believe you." He adjusted his black tie, lifting his top hat to reveal his gloomy eyes. "How do you feel, really?" Kol compelled, the words falling from my mouth like an avalanche.

Without my consent, sentences slipped from my parted lips. "I feel like I have nobody that I can trust." I answered. "You betrayed me and lied about who you were, you are a creature of the night that did not have the nerve to reveal yourself to me. Then, Mother lied to me too. She didn't tell me about his illness." I elaborated, realising that the only two people that remained at my side were tricksters. "I hate her for not letting me have a final moment with him knowing it was my last. I hate myself for being too self-involved to realise he was unwell. I hate him for never giving me his approval and how I still support him despite how he treated me." I ranted, flustered and hot headed. "And, most of all, I hate you. I hate you for being too late to save him, I hate knowing it is your blood for that could have cured him and I hate blaming you but I don't know how to stop. I hate knowing you." I shrieked, my words acting as flames. To put it gently, I was a state.

Kol Mikaelson was taken aback by this response. In a split second, he had a decision to make—to stay or to leave. And for the first time in a millennium, he found he wanted to stay. So, he wrapped me into an embrace and rocked me in his arms. He hated knowing him too.

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Before I knew it, I was stood in front my old house. Or at least, some of it. Since my human years, the house had changed to fit the modern era, but the structure remained. It still felt like my home, at least. Like always, it was made of red brick and was the eighth house down the street. From what I could tell, it was occupied now, all the lights were turned on.

I didn't want to knock. Actually, I didn't think this far ahead, nor did it cross my mind that somebody might have been home. Relying on my vampire stealth, I peered through an open kitchen window, the muffled sound of a television show and beeping of a microwave to be heard. To gain a better view, I pushed up on my tip toes and attempted to spot if the interior had changed much. The ceiling was still cracked like I last witnessed it to be and the height markers of my youth were still penned on the cream walls. Curiously, I leaned forward, only to teeter and find my body slamming the window shut with a 'bang.'

"May I help you, Miss?" I heard a voice ask, making me debate whether to flash away. In the end, the warmth in the man's tone convinced me to stay.

Coolly, I peeled my body off the glass, peering above to locate the voice. From the bedroom window, an innocent elderly stared down, his ruddy cheeks shining and thick-framed glasses standing out. If I had to guess, I would have bet he was at least seventy five. Now a little shameful, I glanced up at the shrivelled man, shaking my head vigorously. "No. I'm sorry for the disturbance, I just wanted to take a walk down memory lane." I apologised, prepared to return to my hijacked car and drive somewhere else. Coming home was a stupid idea of mine.

He soon disappeared, wobbling out through the porch door with the assistance of a walking stick ten minutes later. "Oh, do pardon me. I didn't know the previous owners had a daughter." He excused himself, never directly asking me if I was the daughter of the last residents. Technically, I was a daughter of one set, just not the ones he thought. "Dear me, I need stronger glasses because I wouldn't have guessed your parents were a day over twenty one." Laughing, he slapped his leg before entering a coughing fit.

Immediately, I rushed to his aid—I was a vampire, not a monster. "It's cold out here, Sir. Take my coat, or at least return inside." I begged him, stripping away my jacket for him, the cold was no different to me.

"Nonsense." He declared. "I'll only return inside with you. To think you came all this way to see your old house, I couldn't let you leave without having a peak." Friendly, as expected, he beckoned me over to him. "Come in, please, have a look around and I can get you a drink if you would like." He appealed to me once again, the invite being a relief.

Hesitant, I followed the man into the living room after his pleading gaze. Around here, I doubt he had much company after I heard only one heartbeat. That made him like me, I was on my own too. Whether it was rooted from pity or interest, I decided to spend the evening with that man for his company without an ulterior, supernatural-based motive.

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Arthur Fairclough. Remarkably, this man was the son of Thomas' brother. One century on, I was staring into the eyes of my old fiancé's nephew. It was a genuine talk, he told me stories about his time in the army and about how his wife was a nurse at the time. She died thirteen years ago, but it was satisfying to know he had a fruitful life with the woman he loved, they raised a son together, of which followed his Dad's footsteps in the army. My heart did ache knowing his life would never be viable for me, I would never have a child and marriage was out of the picture. Eternally, I was trapped in seventeen year old's body.

"Fairclough, I like the sound of that." I hinted, thinking about how much I loved Thomas, but only ever as a friend. "I'm Charlotte, I find Lottie is much less of a mouthful though. I live in Mystic Falls on my own right now and only wanted to see who lived here now. I couldn't be more grateful for you letting me explore your home." I shared a few vague details in exchange for his exciting tales. I wish I could have told him more, I trusted him instantly because I knew his Father. Alas, I had to settle for my name and town.

"Oh, are you leaving already?" Arthur's face fell, he was quite lonely.

Meekly, I bobbed my head. "This was only meant to be a quick stop, I made a split second decision to come here in hopes of finding out about a...relative of mine." I answered, knowing he was too young to know about my Mother's burial site.

Collecting my empty teacup, he tilted his head in a childlike manner. "I've lived in this town all my life and on this street for twelve years. I can help, what's their name?" He questioned, eager to be kind.

"Ethel. Ethel Hatton." I replied without a thought. "She a very distant relative of mine that I need to find out about for a History project. Sixty percent of my grade, it is a huge deal." I lied through my pearly white teeth with a startling sense of naturalism.

"You're in luck, Charlotte!" He exclaimed. "I know a lot about Ethel, I heard many stories about her from Grandmother. They were very good friends, my Uncle, rest in peace his soul, was meant to marry Ethel's daughter." Arthur continued, sighing in contentment. "I even have a box of her belongings upstairs because I believe she used to live here. I can fetch them for you now and will write down the address of the cemetery, beware she is up in Louisiana though. There was no room in the Hatton family plot so it was decided she should be lay to rest next to her best friend, my Grandmother." The elderly plucked a fountain pen from his cardigan pocket, neatly writing down the information for me.

"I appreciate this." I said, a little disappointed she wasn't side by side with my Father.

After toddling upstairs, Arthur returned with a brown box that was taped shut. "Of course, I hope this is helpful for your project." He beamed, touching my shoulder before I could take my leave. "And I wrote the telephone number down too. If you need any more help, I want you to call me." He announced, pausing for a moment. "Or, if you ever want to talk to this old man."

✧࿐ ཾ✧

Considering I had been many places over the past one hundred and two years, some would have found it strange I never visited 'The Big Easy.' I never had an inclination to go there until now, therefore had no expectations of the city. However, I wasn't prepared to take on a new city until I bid farewell to Portland. And that meant building up the immense courage required to visit my Father's grave, an act I never did. Once his casket was lowered, I never returned to him.

"Hey." I greeted awkwardly, touching the cold stone of the grave as I tried to conjure up an appropriate thing to say. There was no plan in my mind, I just knew that I needed closure of my human life after receiving the information about the forged letter. "I, uh, haven't seen you in a long while and I suppose I should be embarrassed about that. You died close to the time I became a...vampire and it was such a hectic experience th——alright, that is an awful excuse." I sucked in a deep breath, it dawning on me that I was simply a bad daughter that took a century to check in on her Father. "I promise to visit more. I don't want to lie to you, I just never came and that needs to change because I swear, it is time that I make you proud, Daddy." I decided firmly, hoping, praying, that he could hear me wherever he was.

With that as a comfort, I dropped a single lily—his favourite—onto the grave and ploughed onwards, my Mother's box in hand. Portland had its goodbye, New Orleans better be ready for a hello.

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A.N: Lottie is going to New Orleans and I am extremely excited for it to meet some familiar faces. She will return to Mystic Falls soon but closure is very important for her because she never realised how much time had passed.

Who do you think Lottie should meet and do you think she will like them?