AN: So here we are, the last chapter. I feel like I should apologise for what I'm about to do. Trigger warning for terminal illness.

The year was 2023.

Since Mariella's adoption eighteen months ago, there had been no more big surprises in Caroline's family, unless you counted Freya and Keelin tying the knot - and everyone had seen that coming a mile away.

The Saltzman Academy was due to open in September, a few months before Hope's eleventh birthday, and she was so ready for it.

The Mikaelsons had ended up bankrolling the school entirely - Caroline had wanted to ensure that any student who needed the school could access it, without having to worry about any kind of tuition.

All in all, Caroline was exceptionally happy with the way her life had turned out.

And then, in March, everything fell apart.

Caroline was in her office, looking over the last bits of paperwork for the school, when her phone rang.

"Jo, aren't you supposed to be at work?" She asked, by way of greeting.

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, broken only by a sniffle, and Caroline frowned.

"Jo? Is everything okay?"

"I … No. Can you … Can you come to the hospital please? I'm in Keelin's office, I … I really need someone here."

When Caroline arrived, she found Jo on the couch, sobbing into her hands. "What's happened?" She asked urgently, pushing the door closed behind her. "Keelin?"

Her sister-in-law gave her a sad smile. "You know I can't answer that."

"You can," Jo said in a muffled voice. "I can't … I can't …"

Caroline sat down, wrapping an arm around her. "Jo, what's wrong? Is it the girls? Is one of them sick?"

"Not the girls, no," Keelin said. "Jo had a scan done, because of the headaches she's been getting recently. They've found a tumour."

Caroline's blood ran cold. "On the brain?"

Keelin nodded.

"Okay, so what now?" Caroline asked. "Chemo? Surgery? Do you need me to take the girls for a bit? Scratch that, do you need me to come and stay with you, because I can do that."

"It's inoperable," Jo said, finally lifting her head. "They can't do anything, Caroline. Chemo would give me another week, maybe, and that …" she took a shaky breath. "That wouldn't be worth it."

"So …" Caroline stared at her, waiting for her to continue. "So how long …?"

"Six months," Jo whispered.

Logically, Caroline knew that she had friends and family that were human and that they wouldn't live forever. But she had thought that she had at least another decade or two before she had to begin dealing with that.

It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"No, that can't …" Caroline sucked in a breath. "I can give you blood, would that …?"

"It won't work," Keelin said gently. "There are some things vampire blood can't heal, Caroline. Cancer and tumours are two of them. I've done enough tests to be sure."

"Freya will find something," Caroline said firmly. "She will."

Jo gave her a watery smile. "I hope so. I can't … Ric can't do this again."

Time can be a strange thing, the way it drags on and on when you are waiting for something wonderful, and yet flies by when something unpleasant looms.

As the months passed, Jo became sicker and weaker, and Freya became quieter and quieter.

Finally, after four months, Freya gave them the news that no one wanted to hear - not even magic could fix what was going on in Jo's head.

"Well, I guess that's it," Jo said, her voice deceptively calm. "I'd better tell the girls."

Caroline winced. "Are you sure?"

"I'd rather they know," Jo said with a sigh. "I'd rather prepare them and be able to say goodbye than have it come as a horrible shock and leave them with questions. Not everyone gets a chance to do that, I suppose."

"No," Caroline agreed. "So that's something."

"I was thinking of recording some videos for them," Jo said. "Things for them to watch at different times of their lives - do you mind keeping hold of them for me?"

Caroline nodded. "Of course; anything I can do to make it easier. That sounds like a lovely idea."

Jo sighed. "I just keep thinking … How does one man get this unlucky?"

Caroline probably shouldn't have been surprised that all of Jo's concern was about her husband and daughters, rather than herself. "Jo … I'm sure you've already thought this, but … Have you considered … becoming a vampire?"

Jo smiled sadly. "I have. I can't." She took Caroline's hands. "I know why you're asking, and I appreciate it, I do. It probably sounds awful to you, being a mother, but for a witch to become a vampire, lose their magic … it would be like losing a part of my soul. It's taken Kol a thousand years to level out."

"I guess he's not the exception," Caroline said sadly.

Jo shook her head. "I don't know the statistics, but I'm willing to bet a good proportion of witches who make the transition end up as Rippers. They'd still lose me, but to the bloodlust rather than death and … That would be even worse, Caroline."

As spring moved into summer, the Salvatores came to stay in New Orleans, and Jo's siblings moved in with her and Ric to be nearby.

Finally, one bright August morning, Caroline got the call she had been dreading.

"How is she?" She asked Ric as he ushered them inside the house.

"Surprisingly upbeat for someone who woke up and announced she was going to die today," Ric said, his voice hoarse.

Caroline gave him a hug. "Where is she?"

"Still in bed," Ric said. "Keelin's with her."

In the last few weeks, getting up and down the stairs had become a real chore, and Ric had moved their bed down into the dining room so that Jo didn't have to make the trip.

Everyone was already gathered in the living room. Hope immediately headed for Lizzie and Josie, who were sitting with Elena and Jeremy.

Caroline hugged Stefan. "Where are the girls?"

"Katherine said her goodbyes and took them out for lunch," he answered wearily. "We didn't really want the girls to … you know."

Caroline did know. If she thought for one second that Hope would leave, she'd ask her to.

After a few minutes, Keelin emerged with a tired expression on her face. "She doesn't have long left," she said quietly. "So I'd get ready to say your goodbyes. Girls, she wants to talk to you."

Lizzie rose to her feet, but Josie stayed rooted to the spot, tears coursing down her face as she shook her head. "I can't …"

Elena squeezed her hand. "You'll regret it if you don't, Josie."

"She doesn't look bad," Keelin said gently. "It's okay."

Lizzie held out a hand to her sister; after a split-second, Josie took it, and the twins made their way to where their mother was on her deathbed.

Jo smiled when she saw them - a tired smile, but a smile nonetheless. "My beautiful girls."

"I don't want you to go," Josie whispered.

"Oh, Josette …" Jo reached out a hand to her daughter. "I don't want to go either. I don't have much of a choice in the matter, so I need you to listen to me, okay?"

The two sisters exchanged a glance, and Lizzie released Josie to round the bed and sit down on Jo's other side.

Jo took both of their hands. "I love you both so much and I am so proud of you. I'm going to need you to go easy on your dad, partly because he's going to be struggling too, and partly because he's just really bad at dealing with girl stuff."

Despite the situation, Lizzie couldn't help giggling, and Jo squeezed her hand.

"And I want you to smile," she whispered. "One day, you'll be able to smile again, and laugh, and that's okay. And in the meantime, you're going to be sad, and maybe angry, but that's okay too."

"Mom …" Josie began.

"I know," Jo said, releasing her hand to wipe some of the tears from her face. "If you need to talk to a mom, go to Caroline, okay? I won't be upset. Like I said, your dad will need all the help he can get." She sighed. "Look after each other. Lizzie - you have such a big heart; it's okay to let people see it. And remember to listen to what people don't say, not just what they do."

Lizzie nodded, leaning down so her mother could kiss her.

"And Josie … use your voice. You have a lot to say, but you need to let people hear it."

"I will," Josie whispered. "I don't know how to say goodbye."

"Come here." Jo gathered her girls up in a hug, the way she used to when they were smaller. "I love you both. Be good. Don't say goodbye. I'm not really going anywhere. I'll always be watching over you, okay? Do you want to get everyone else?"

"I can't watch," Josie blurted out.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'm not going to ask you too," Jo said. "I don't want you to watch either."

Lizzie gave her mother one last hug and made her way to the door. "Jo?"

Josie hesitated.

Jo smiled at her. "It's okay, Josie."

Finally, Josie nodded, kissing her mother's cheek. "Love you Mom."

"Love you," Lizzie echoed, taking Josie's hand once again.

When they returned to the living room, their father was pacing. "Is she …?"

"She's still there," Lizzie said. "She wants everyone else. We can't … I can't …"

"Well, you can't be out here on your own while that happens," Caroline said firmly. "I'll sit with you."

"Go in now then," Ric said. "You deserve a goodbye."

Hope hopped to her feet and took her mother's hand. "I don't want to see it either."

When Caroline and Hope entered, Jo looked a little concerned. "I can't see all of you in turn; I don't think I've got the time."

"Sorry, do you have an appointment you need to keep?" Caroline said with a smile.

"Mom!" Hope protested in a whisper.

Jo laughed weakly. "It's alright, Hope. I'm dying. We can't get away from that. All I can do is try and keep smiling."

"We're going to sit with the girls," Caroline explained, coming to perch on the mattress. "They shouldn't be on their own."

Jo squeezed her hand. "Thank you. Actually, I'm glad. I have a couple of last requests for you."

Caroline took a shaky breath. "Okay?"

"First things first." Jo turned to Hope. "Hope, thank you for looking after my girls these last few months; I know they haven't been easy."

Hope shrugged. "Lizzie's never easy. At least I knew why this time."

Jo smiled. "That's true. Either way, you are such a good friend to them. Something tells me they're not going to get any easier, so just … Please bear with them?"

Hope nodded, then suddenly hugged her. "I'm going to miss you."

"I know," Jo said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just promise me you won't try any resurrections."

"Why?" Hope asked innocently. "I could probably do it."

"You probably could," Jo agreed.

"Don't encourage her," Caroline murmured.

Jo smiled sadly. "The thing is, Hope, even if you could, I'd still have the tumour. So you'd bring me back for a couple of days and then we'd have to do this all over again."

Hope sighed. "I get it. I promise."

Jo gave her one last squeeze. "Good girl. Can you give me a minute with your mom?" She waited for Hope to leave. "You've worked wonders, Caroline."

Caroline smiled sadly. "So have you. The girls … I think without them, Hope could so easily have grown up spoilt. They've been as good for her as she's been for them. Now what can I do for you?"

"You probably know," Jo admitted. "But I want to say it. First of all, we both know how teenage girls can be. Josie and Lizzie are reaching the age when they'll need a mother probably more than they need a father, so I need you to be there when they need mom-help."

"Of course," Caroline said immediately. "You don't need to ask."

"I know," Jo said. "Second of all, please make sure Ric doesn't fall down the rabbit-hole again. When I met him, he was still grieving Jenna and he was a mess; please try and keep him out of that state."

"He's got the girls this time," Caroline said. "They're much less self-sufficient than Jeremy and Elena were."

"Maybe," Jo said. "But when he starts thinking about dating again - if he does - please give him a push and … try and make sure it's someone who won't die on him this time?"

Caroline gave a watery laugh. "I'll do my best."

"And lastly," Jo said, "and this is probably the hardest one. I want a balloon bouquet at my funeral."

Caroline blinked. "Sorry - what?"

"A balloon bouquet," Jo repeated. "At my funeral."

"Yes, I thought that's what you said," Caroline said. "Jo - I don't think they do balloons for funerals."

"It doesn't have to say anything," Jo said. "I just … Please make it happen? And …" With difficulty, she reached over to the unit Ric had placed in lieu of a bedside cabinet.

Caroline jumped to her feet. "What do you need?"

"Top drawer," Jo said, conceding. "There's an envelope."

Caroline found it easily, but … "It's not addressed to anyone."

"I know," Jo said. "I need you to put it in one of the balloons."

"What does it say?" Caroline asked.

Jo smiled at her. "Doesn't matter. Please do that for me?"

Caroline sighed. "Alright. Everyone's going to think I'm mad, but alright."

"Thank you." Jo drew in a shaky breath. "I need … I need you to get the others."

"Of course." Caroline bent down to hug her. "Not too late for the vampire thing, you know."

Jo sniffled. "I'm going to miss you."

"Hey, you'll still be watching over us," Caroline said, wiping away a tear. "We'll be the ones missing you. Okay, if I don't do this now, I never will. I love you and thank you."

Jo squeezed her hand. "You've been one of the best friends I've ever had, Caroline. Thank you."

Caroline kissed her forehead and hurried from the room before she could start crying. "Okay, you need to go in now," she said, giving Ric a hug as she passed.

Josie and Lizzie were sitting either side of Hope, leaning against her. When Caroline sat down, Josie switched over, cuddling into Caroline and beginning to cry into her shoulder.

Caroline held her tightly, but didn't say anything - what could she say? Lizzie was a daddy's girl - she would probably be okay - but Josie was her mother's daughter through and through.

Everyone else filed into the makeshift bedroom, gathering around for a final goodbye. Ric came to sit beside his wife and she took his hand.

"Okay, everyone, talk amongst yourselves for a second," Jo said, with an attempt at a smile. "I want you to promise me," she added, in an undertone, "that you will try and move on eventually."

"Jo …" Ric began.

"I'm not asking you to promise me you will," she said. "Just that you'll try."

Ric sighed. "Aright, I promise I'll try."

"Thank you." Jo tugged on his hand and he bent down to kiss her. "I love you." Her eyes travelled around the room. "I love all of you. Just … make sure the school still opens."

"It's only a few weeks …" Ric began.

"I don't care," Jo said. "There are kids counting on it. Promise me."

"We promise," Elena said, sniffling, gripping Jeremy's hand. "Even if we need to stay and help, we'll make sure it opens."

Jo smiled at them. "My oldest kids," she said fondly. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you too."

"Not your fault," Jeremy said thickly. "At least we've got warning this time."

"I know." Jo's voice was beginning to slur a little. "Look after them."

No one was quite sure who this request was aimed at, but everyone murmured some kind of agreement.

Her eyes closed.

For a few seconds there was silence, then Elena choked back a sob. "Keelin?"

Keelin moved forwards and bent over the bed with a stethoscope. After a few minutes, she looked up, meeting Ric's gaze. "She's gone."

The funeral took place two days later.

The request for balloons had taken Caroline entirely by surprise, and it took her a while to find somewhere willing and able to fulfil such a request.

However, she managed it in the end, and the mourners arrived at the cemetery to find a bouquet of black balloons at the gravesite.

"What's with the balloons?" Josie asked, her eyes red with tears.

It was the first words she had said all day, and Caroline squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, sweetie. It was your mother's last wish. I had to honour it."

Josie relaxed a little against her. "Why balloons?"

"I have no idea," Caroline admitted.

Behind them, Kai made a rather interesting noise as he arrived. "What the … She asked for them, didn't she?"

"Yes," Caroline said, turning to him. "I don't suppose you know why."

Kai didn't answer, but Luke did, starting to smile despite himself. "Kai has a … problem with balloons. A phobia, if you will. I'm willing to bet that's why."

Lizzie managed a small smile at this, and Caroline bit back her own giggle. Of course, Jo would have done something to get her children smiling again, even at her funeral.

Father O'Connell stepped forwards and everyone fell silent as he began the service.

Caroline found herself tuning out most of it, her gaze wondering instead to Alaric and his daughters.

At least this loss had been somewhat easier to bear, knowing as they did that it was coming, but that didn't make the gaping hole Jo had left any less empty.

Just past them, Elena was crying softly into Stefan's shoulder, stroking Jenna's hair. Ariana clung to her other side with one arm and clutched her mother's hand with the other.

Next to the Salvatores, Jeremy was not bothering to hide his tears. Without ever living in the same state, Jo had stepped in as the mother they had lost, not just when Miranda passed away, but when Jenna was killed not even a year later, so it was unsurprising that Jeremy was as grief-stricken as Elena.

What did surprise Caroline was the slim brunette at Jeremy's side, her arms wrapped comfortingly around his waist. Jeremy visited New Orleans fairly regularly, partly to visit Alaric and partly to visit Kol and Davina, and she knew that he and Jeanette had long since hit it off.

She hadn't realised that they were at the 'accompanying each other to funerals' stage of the relationship.

As the coffin was interred, Caroline heaved a sigh, leaning against her husband as he put an arm around her.

"Alright?" He murmured.

"Been better," Caroline whispered back. "She asked me to put a note in one of those balloons; I really wish I knew why."

As though she had been heard, the balloons all burst in a domino effect that sounded more like a fireworks display.

Everyone jumped, no one more so than Kai, who made a noise so high-pitched that Lizzie couldn't help giggling.

"Like I said," Luke said, through his own laughter. "Phobia."

The envelope floated down from where the balloons had once been and Kai picked it up. "What's this?"

"Jo asked me to put it in one of the balloons," Caroline said. "Although why they burst, I couldn't tell you."

Kai opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. "That bitch."

"Kai!" Liv protested. "It's her funeral!"

"Sorry," Kai said, a smile beginning to spread across her face. "She put a time-release spell on the envelope so the balloons would burst."

"Why would she do that?" Josie asked.

"Because your mother and I had a bit of a prank war going when we were kids," Kai explained with a grin. "We never agreed on the victor." He held up the note so everyone could see the two words scrawled on it.

I win.

Josie's lips twitched, she caught her sister's eye, and then they were both laughing, through tears, yes, but laughing all the same.

Kai embraced them both, still grinning himself. "Your mother was a always a joy, girls. Hold on to that."

"Caroline," Ric said quietly.

Caroline took his hand, squeezing gently. "Are you okay?"

"I think we will be," Ric said with a sad smile. "I want to change the name of the school."

Caroline grimaced. "Ric, we open in three weeks; we have the uniforms, and the books, and everything already monogrammed and …" she sighed. "I can make some calls. What do you want to change it to?"

"The Laughlin Academy for the Gifted," Ric said. "This is her legacy."

AN: The sequel is called Transgressions and will be up in a week or so; I'll be uploading it under Legacies, so check those stories or follow me to get an email.