Chapter Text
Silas University, Laura’s dorm room, day.
“Okay, so here’s the plan. We will all go home for reading week, study as usual, but we’ll never come back. Ever. Until, of course, until we receive news that somehow, somebody has extinguished that creepy Light glutton. Or something. In the meantime, I’m sure we can get some materials online to continue our pursuit of knowledge,” Laura laughs nervously as she ends her briefing of the ‘plan’ to the rest of her friends. She knows it can barely pass as a plan, but it’s the only one they've got.
Looking around, Laura sees Perry nodding her head in glum acceptance, LaFontaine shrugging at her and Danny huffing in resignation. Kirsch seems delighted though, whispering something about not having to do his reading and homework at last. Laura’s eyes drift past them for a second as she tries to see Carmilla’s reaction. To her mild disappointment, Carmilla isn’t even looking at her. The vampire is studying her nails as she leans against the wall, a little further away from the rest.
“Well… okay then!” Laura continues. “With that settled, I guess we can move on to my little problem of transportation? Danny?”
“Sorry Laura, but my parents are picking me up. I don’t think they can give you a lift,” Danny replies, looking truly apologetic. Laura quickly tells her it was okay, before turning her hopeful gaze to Kirsch. Sensing her gaze, he looks up.
“Aww, damn, I can’t, little hottie. Sorry. As uncool as it is, I’ve got plenty of stuff I want to bring home and I don’t think my tiny car can fit one more passenger…”
Laura sighs, telling Kirsch not to worry about it. She has called her Dad asking for a lift, but given her sudden, earlier-than-usual wish to return home for reading week, her Dad just couldn’t make it. He’s fretted about Laura hitching a ride with strangers, but at the end (after half an hour of a full-on formal debate session) Laura manages to convince him that she would only hitch a ride with her friends. Close friends. Friends she knows well. Friends who know her well. Friends who wouldn’t try to kill her.
With Danny and Kirsch out, the only option left is…
“LaF?” Laura asks, somewhat regretfully as she knows LaFontaine’s car isn’t very big either. LaF just grins back at her, though.
“No problem, L. It’ll be tight, but I’m pretty sure we can fit in one or two more humans, aside from Perry and me.”
“Oh gosh, thank you so much!” Laura beams, clapping her hands in relief. “Okay, so that’s finally settled. Oh, I’d feel so much better once we are out of this place.”
A chorus of agreement answers her, and Laura moves on to discuss a few other things. She can’t help but notice that Carmilla hasn’t said a single word during the discussion, though. She is being… well, broody.
Which is a real bummer, to be honest. Carm had been in an especially good mood after they… uh, well, kissed. She was joking around, willing to entertain Laura’s interview, and most importantly smiling. But right after LaF made them realise that Lophiiformes is still alive, Carmilla went straight back to her broody self.
Laura pouts slightly.
Silas University, Laura’s dorm room, night.
“Sleep well, guys! See you tomorrow morning!”
Laura waves her friends good night, waiting until they disappear at the end of the hallway before closing her door. She yawns widely. She is exhausted; it’s been a long and intense day of planning, fretting and peeking through the window with Kirsch’s binoculars to check if any hungry Light suddenly emerges from the Lustig building. Man, she has been constantly on her feet ever since LaFontaine warned them about the Light. She has launched herself into a flurry of activities, mainly rounding up her friends and trying to break the news as gently as possible to them.
So much for ‘gently,’ though. Laura remembers herself running and screaming into Danny’s room even as LaF and Carmilla went to warn Perry and Kirsch respectively. It may not be the most effective start, but fortunately they have all calmed down after discussing the “Great Reading Week Escapade” plan. Somewhat.
Still… Laura knows she’ll feel a lot better once they are actually out of the immediate vicinity of the Silas campus.
Stretching, Laura turns around, only to see Carmilla sitting quietly on her bed—still brooding. Carmilla does that a lot, really, but this time it’s rather concerning given her perfect record of silence during their discussion.
“Y’know, I can’t help but notice that you’ve been unusually quiet,” Laura comments in a fake nonchalant tone as she walks over to the counter and pours the last of her cereal into a bowl. She’s halfway through checking her soymilk container to make sure it isn’t Carmilla’s when she receives a flat reply.
“I just didn’t have anything to contribute.”
“Yeah, but no snarky comments, no eye-rolls, nothing?” Laura chuckles. “They are your distinguishing character, to be honest.”
She gets a faint crack of smile for this comment. Carmilla shrugs, but the way her shoulders immediately droop after the gesture makes Laura rather worried.
“Carm, are you okay? You seem… off.”
Carmilla huffs at this, finally looking up to fix Laura with one of her ‘I’m not in the mood for talking but you just won’t shut up,’ stares.
Laura is undeterred though. She’s figured out long ago that if Carmilla really doesn’t want to talk, she wouldn’t even be here in the first place. She would’ve been off prowling somewhere in solitude.
“Really, Carm, I’m worried. What’s wrong?”
Carmilla heaves a long sigh, letting her gaze drop again. Laura is about to leave her cereal to approach the brooding vampire, but that’s when Carmilla speaks up—albeit more to the floor than to Laura.
“Maybe I’m just a little sad that I soon wouldn’t be able to see you anymore, cupcake.”
…Huh?
Laura keeps quiet for a second as her brain processes this unexpected answer. She fails to come up with any satisfying explanations, though, and thus feels obliged to seek clarification.
“Uh, sorry Carm, but I don’t think I get what you…I mean, what do you mean? You know I’m still gonna be around and—”
Carmilla cuts her. “Well, I’m not. I’m not leaving with you and your friends for reading week.”
“………………………”
…Wait. What?!
Laura gapes, her brain coming up with at least twenty different versions of ‘no way’ but no sound comes out of her mouth. She thinks she heard her spoon clatter on the tabletop, but totally disregards such an insignificant occurrence. She opts for voicing out her confusion, although it may have involved more stuttering than she expected.
“I… you… why? There’s no reason for you to stay, Carm, y’know LaFontaine already said she can give us a ride to go home—”
Oh.
The moment that word leaves her mouth, Laura realizes her huge overlook.
In their haste and anxiety to flee the campus, she has apparently made some wrong assumptions. All this time, she has assumed that Carmilla has some sort of secret hideout, probably a hidden 18th century vampire mansion or something, or at least a shadowy cottage where she can stay during Reading Week. Laura has even made plans of visiting Carmilla during the break, maybe to study together or to simply hang out. What she hasn’t considered was the possibility that—
She looks up nervously as Carmilla gives her a wry smile.
“Yeah, that’s right. I don’t have anywhere to ‘go home’ to, cupcake.”
This is not happening.
Laura bites her lip anxiously, struggling to come up with something. “But, but… there has to be somewhere you can go back to!” she sputters. “A lair, a den or, or a nest or something!"
Carmilla smirks joylessly at her. “Funny how you immediately associated me with animalistic dwellings, sweetheart.”
Laura growls, “You know what I mean.”
Carmilla sighs again, running a hand through her hair. “I do have temporary dens all over the country, but they are only good for spending a night in. The more… habitable… places, all belong to my Mother. Would be reckless to go and hide in one of them, don’t you think?”
Laura falls silent for a while as she forces her brain to think of alternatives.
Okaaay, so a new problem arises. Great. Totally cool. Totally not a reason to panic. We can definitely talk this over and come up with a solution before bedtime, considering that tomorrow morning we already have to get outta here—
Carmilla seems to notice her building panic, though. The vampire waves her hand experimentally to get Laura’s attention.
“Cupcake, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it,” she says matter-of-factly, as if Laura is just fretting over the weather forecast. “You know I’ll get by, as I’ve always had in this place.”
“But you can’t just stay here!” Laura replies immediately. “It’ll be too dangerous, and-and—”
“I’ve never said I’m gonna stay here, cupcake,” Carmilla says slowly, tilting her head as she watches Laura fretting by the counter. “I’m sure I could find some place out there to lay low in during reading week.”
“But then I wouldn’t know where you are! I wouldn’t be able to see you, or contact you, or, or check if you’ve done your homework and all!”
Carmilla rolls her eyes at this.
“I appreciate the concern, buttercup, but really there is no need for you to fret. I’ll be fine.”
It is exactly at that moment that Laura’s brain finally comes up with an idea. It is such a good and obvious alternative that Laura wonders why she took so long to think of it. Maybe she is just tired after all.
“Carm, I know!” she proclaims jubilantly, almost squealing in excitement.
Carmilla watches her warily. “…What?”
“You can just come home with me! My Dad wouldn’t mind the slightest, and then I’d be able to see you every day and make sure you’re okay!”
“For the record, you were the suicidal one who decided to chase after an ancient and powerful vampire, cupcake; not me,” Carmilla mumbles. “So I really have some qualms about your idea on who is supposed to make sure the other is okay—”
“Oh, get over yourself, you were even more suicidal than me,” Laura waves her off impatiently. It’s true, after all—although Carmilla is usually the voice of reason to Laura’s sometimes-reckless enthusiasm and naivety, her whole business with retrieving the sword and leaping headfirst into Lophiiformes definitely lands higher in the ‘suicidal’ meter. Laura is still unable to grasp why exactly Carmilla was willing to go to such an extent, but she has her guesses. All of which causes a warm feeling in her chest, but she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about them now. What she should be thinking about is how to convince Carmilla to come home with her.
“So, what do you say, Carm? You can stay in my room, and we can watch movies, and I can show you my old camera—oh, and I’m pretty sure I can get you some blood, too, from the nearby—”
“Sounds peachy, cupcake, but it’s not gonna happen.”
Laura certainly isn’t expecting this answer. She blinks. “Why? It’s the best idea we’ve got—”
“No, it’s in fact the stupidest idea you’ve ever got.”
This time, Carmilla’s sharp tone takes her aback.
“I, I don’t…”
“You don’t have to do anything, cupcake. Bottom line, I won’t go anywhere with you this reading week. Not with any one of the Ginger Squad, either, or that half-wit puppy dog.”
Laura’s frustration begins to build. “But why?” she repeats pointedly before Carmilla can cut her again. “I don’t know if you’re just trying to be difficult or something, Carm, but honestly this is the best idea—”
“Oh, really? You honestly think towing me with you is a good idea?!” Carmilla raises her voice, and Laura is really, really confused by her outburst. And a little hurt.
“Look, all I want is to make sure you have somewhere safe to stay during the Reading Week,” Laura forces herself to speak without raising her voice as well. “I care about you, Carm, you know that, right? I can’t just let you wander off somewhere during the entire break without knowing if you’re even alive!”
At this point, a vivid memory of the past few harrowing nights that Laura had spent believing Carmilla was dead suddenly resurfaces. Laura hears her voice crack at the last word, and suddenly there is a tightness in her throat.
Carmilla falls quiet at this, her face looking slightly remorseful.
Laura takes that as a cue to bludgeon through. Steeling her voice, she demands, “So would you just tell me what’s wrong? I’m sure we can figure something out if we talk it out… as always.”
Carmilla huffs, still refusing to answer. Laura doesn’t give up, though. She just keeps staring stubbornly at Carmilla, until finally the vampire shakes her head in defeat and looks up to meet Laura’s gaze. If Laura is only surprised to see how troubled Carmilla’s eyes are, her next words surely send her beyond surprised.
“Don’t you see?” Carmilla asks gravely, gesturing with her hand at the window. “Lophiiformes is still alive out there. As far as we know, my Mother might also still be alive inside it. If she could somehow get out, she’d definitely want to have her revenge after all we’ve done to her—and her first target would doubtlessly be me. I bashed her in the face, Laura. If anything, my Mother holds her dignity highly. She wouldn’t forgive me after everything I’ve done, she’d want to punish me. So forgive me for not wanting to stay in your defenseless little house and wait for her to come and kill me!”
Laura’s lips parted as the weight of Carmilla’s words settle.
“You’re saying… Carm, are you saying that you’re worried the Dean would somehow rise from the dead to come and find you?”
“Not ‘worried.’ Know.”
“That’s, that’s just… no!” Laura shakes her head vehemently. This is definitely not happening. “I don’t care even if the Dean is still alive—I can’t just let you be chased around, alone, by some crazy old vampire with a grudge while I watch movies in my home! No, if that thing with the Dean is bound to happen, let it happen. You don’t have to run from her alone, we can face her together!”
Laura’s words seem to have rendered Carmilla speechless, and for a moment Laura thought she’s managed to convince her. Her hope is crushed, however, when she sees Carmilla’s dark eyes harden and she hisses furiously.
“You think it’s gonna make any difference whether we face her together or not? Deny it all you want, cupcake, but without the Blade of Hastur I’ll be dead meat if my Mother finds me! Besides, what makes you think you’ll be any good to me in a fight? You’ll just be a liability!”
Those words hit Laura like a slap. She knows it’s true—as a human, she is basically useless against vampires—but it still hurts to hear Carmilla of all people calling her a liability. Seething with resentment, Laura narrows her eyes and attacks back.
“But we don’t even know for sure if your Mother is still alive! Even if she is, and if she really is dead-set on doing you harm, then your solution to that is by running away? Again?” Laura retorts. “After all we’ve been through, Carm, I really thought you would’ve gotten it by now that there’s no use running and hiding. If she really is alive, your Mother will still find you even if you run! And then you’ll still end up being a dead-meat, and a coward!”
Carmilla’s eyes flash dangerously, and Laura stiffens when the vampire shoots to her feet and glares at her. Maybe she’s gone too far—Carmilla looks enraged.
“You think I didn’t know that?” Carmilla hisses. “I know running alone won’t do me any good, but at least it’ll distract my Mother from tearing you into pathetic shreds! Can’t you guess that that’s what would happen if she hunts me and finds the both of us at your house?!”
Laura blinks.
So that’s what this is all about.
Carmilla almost fooled her. Behind all that talk about running and saving her own skin, lies the true motif of her seemingly selfish plan. Laura is sure Carmilla had no intention to tell her about it—she is glad she made the vampire angry enough to let it slip.
Because Laura gets it now. Carmilla is planning to make herself a decoy, to distract the Dean from her.
I should’ve known, you closet heroic vampire.
This girl really doesn’t know how to survive in this world.
Carmilla clenches her fists, glaring furiously at Laura. She really shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over those jibes, but the words ‘run’ and ‘hide’ have somehow been particularly hurtful ever since… that time.
…Whatever. She’s said her piece. Laura has fallen quiet, seemingly mulling over what she’s said. Carmilla crosses her arms and sighs discreetly.
It doesn’t matter—no matter how many jibes and insults Laura throws her way, Carmilla has made her decision. She’s been horrified by the prospects ever since that gingerhead LaFontaine pointed out that Lophiiformes—and hence her Mother—is still alive. She knows her Mother would chase after her. Despite how much Carmilla longs to be with Laura, especially after her recent brush with death, she just can’t let Maman kill this tiny idiot.
Even if that means she would have to leave.
Carmilla’s dark eyes flick up when Laura opens her mouth to say something.
De ja vu.
There is no other word to describe this whole situation. It feels exactly like before—with the Dean's threat hanging over their heads and Carmilla having her own crazy, suicidal plan to try and save everyone but herself. Laura swallows the lump in her throat.
And look at how it ended for her before.
…Almost dead.
Laura feels tears pricking at the corners of her eyes at the memory of seeing Carmilla’s limp, motionless body as Danny carried her in. Laura has really thought she’s lost her—that she would never see Carm again, ever. The only person who never doubted Laura’s ability to take care of herself, the only person who never tried to stop her from doing things which are ‘too dangerous,’ and instead finds other ways to protect her. Always.
But it is exactly this tendency for silent, selfless heroics that’s making Laura tremble with fear. If she lets Carmilla go, she knows she might never see her again. The Dean would kill her.
Carmilla might just wish to protect her life, but after going through those nights thinking the vampire was dead… Laura realizes she doesn’t want to go anywhere without Carmilla.
Taking a breath to steady her voice, Laura looks back up at Carmilla.
“I know what you’re doing, Carm,” she whispers. “Behind all those insults—I know you’re just trying to save my life again, as always.”
This takes Carmilla completely by surprise—she hasn’t thought Laura could see her true motif. But then again, this girl has always been a sharp one, Carmilla thinks in slight exasperation.
Laura continues. “But don’t you see? If you go by yourself, the Dean will eventually kill you. And all the while, I wouldn’t be able to see you, I might not even know if you’re dead—and I really don’t want that to happen, Carm, please.”
This time, Carmilla is terrified to hear the tremble in Laura’s voice.
“Do you know how it was like in the past few days for me? I really thought you were dead. I thought I would never be able to see you again, and it was harrowing. I can’t go through all that again, Carm, I really can’t."
Carmilla opens her mouth to retort, but the look of fearful despair in Laura’s eyes takes her aback. She hates that look. It has no business being in Laura’s bright, lively eyes, and Carmilla had quietly wished she would never have to see it again after their battle against her Mother. She really should’ve known better. Since when has Maman let her have what she wants, anyway?
She could hear her own voice starting to tremble, but Carmilla pushes through.
“Laura, look, I’m just trying to be logical here. The last time we faced my Mother, we barely survived—it was more luck than anything else. There is no guarantee we can be that lucky again if we have to face my Mother this time, and—”
"I know, but that doesn’t mean we have absolutely no chance against her if we face her together, Carm! You don’t have to run by yourself—”
“Yes, I do!” Carmilla replies harshly. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Laura, I really, really wish there’s another way. But there isn’t, and I just… I just can’t let you get involved in a fight none of us can survive!”
“Oh, so it’s fine for you to get involved in such a fight?!” Laura shouts in reply, her anger sparked by Carmilla’s disregard of her own life, a life Laura values so, so dearly.
“Yes!” Carmilla shouts back, further angering Laura.
“Now you’re not making any sense, Carmilla! You just said none of us could survive that fight, and yet here you are saying you’re going to throw yourself right into it! Don’t you realize how stupid that sounds?”
Laura walks over to stand right in front of the vampire, glaring as her frustration builds. She just can’t fathom what’s going on behind those dark eyes. It all doesn’t make sense.
“Answer me, Carm. Why are you doing this?”
Carmilla growls, looking as though she is going to ignore her question—but Laura isn’t having any of that.
“Answer me, Carmilla! You were the one who told me I knew nothing about what it takes to survive, so why does it look like it’s the other way around now? Listen to yourself—you’re planning to run off by yourself, without any weapon, right towards a doomed battle! You’re turning yourself into a live bait, just to give me a chance to live a little bit longer. Why!”
Carmilla clenches her fists, still refusing to answer.
“Carm!”
“…BECAUSE YOU DESERVE LIFE SO MUCH MORE THAN ME!”
Carmilla loses it—she hasn’t meant to shout at Laura, but the girl’s constant pressing has pushed her off the edge. Now that the stubborn girl finally takes a step back in shock upon her outburst, Carmilla feels a mild satisfaction.
But contrary to her expectation, Laura doesn’t run away from her. Seemingly without even thinking, the girl steps back close to Carmilla, her face devoid of any trace of fear from the vampire’s less than gentle outburst.
Approaching an unrestrained angry vampire—this girl really doesn’t know how to preserve her life.
…And yet she still survives up till now, Carmilla’s conscience points out unwantedly. For all your plan’s worth, she might still survive even if you stay with her.
Suddenly Carmilla just feels very, very tired. She shakes her head, stepping away from Laura and dropping herself to sit at the edge of the bed. She rests her elbows on her knees, keeping her head down to avoid Laura’s eyes.
The silence that follows is excruciating.
“I… I can’t let you die just like that, cupcake,” Carmilla finally continues softly. She still refuses to look at Laura, the girl whose life she has come to appreciate more than her own. “If I follow you home, I’ll just attract my Mother right to you. And… you don’t deserve to be involved in that. Whereas I’m—I’m a vampire, a lure, a kidnapper, a murderer—whatever you want to call me. I’ve played a part in everything we’ve suffered, and yet you still trust me. Someone like you… deserves better.”
Just a few months back, Carmilla wouldn’t even believe she could ever think this way. She had never met anyone she thought deserves better. She really didn’t care much about what happens to others. Even when she saved the girls her Mother targeted, she did it mostly to spite Maman, not because of any sympathy for the girls themselves. Carmilla had always had to go through endless dark times alone, so she barely had any room to wish others a better fate.
…Nor any chance to think that maybe she deserved better.
All of that changed, however, the moment a naive child, who understands nothing about what it takes to survive in this world, said—
"Hell, even you deserve better.”
Carmilla’s eyes widen—she looks up before she could stop herself, staring right at Laura who is smiling hesitantly at her.
“…That’s what I said to you, Carm, back then when we were still new roommates. Remember that?”
Carmilla nods without a word.
How could I forget? That was the first time I realized you weren’t like any other girls I’ve ever lured, cupcake. Or any person ever, for that matter.
…Kindness so unconditional it’s almost stupid.
“And I’m saying it again to you now,” Laura shrugs. “Only, this time I think I’d omit the word ‘even.’”
Laura shifts closer to Carmilla and lowers herself to the floor next to her, placing a reassuring hand on the vampire’s knee as she searches her eyes.
“Listen to me, Carm: we deserve better. I know you might have done terrible things in the past, but right now you aren’t going around kidnapping girls anymore, right? Hell, if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t even be alive right now. Neither would half the Silas student body. So don’t ever say that you don’t deserve life as much as I do, Carm, because after all you’ve sacrificed to save me you sure as hell deserve it. The only one who should’ve been dead, is the Dean.”
Carmilla stares at her, and Laura wishes more than anything to be able to decipher the emotions swirling behind those deep, dark eyes. She thinks she glimpsed something akin to hope, so she quickly pushes through.
“So there is really no need for you to go facing doom by yourself. Like I said, if it is bound to happen, let it happen. But we can face it together, just like before—and maybe we’ll be lucky enough to survive again. Together.”
Laura reaches up tentatively to stroke Carmilla’s cheek.
“Because I’d much rather face the Dean one more time with you by my side, Carm, than living a long and peaceful life without any supernatural threats but also without you."
…Goddammit.
She thought she’s steeled her resolve. She’s promised herself not to get sentimental over whatever Laura may say to discourage her from leaving. It’s just something she has to do, to give Laura her chance to live.
Heck care about her own.
Because Carmilla has never believed in life. It is just something she finds herself stuck in, after almost an entire century of wishing for death in that coffin. She never asked to survive. Surviving means she is just going back to be under Maman’s reign, something she never wished for after what the woman has done to Elle. However, at the same time she’s afraid that death would only bring endless wandering in the darkness, not much different from what she has experienced in that dreadful coffin. At least, when she’s alive she can watch the stars. She can watch the seasons change. She can watch all the beauty that she has forgotten during those decades in the dark. And… that’s all life and survival meant to her.
So Carmilla has thought… If, if she ever gets lucky enough to meet someone worth dying for, then she would gladly give her life up for that someone.
But of course things would never be as simple as that, right?
Because beyond all reason and logic, Laura has made it very clear that she doesn’t want Carmilla to throw her life for her. She… she actually wants Carmilla alive, with her.
It is such a foreign concept, an anomaly in reality. Carmilla has never met anyone who wants to live in the company of a vampire, ever. But it is the truth, and…
…And Carmilla realizes that she does want to be with Laura, too.
Carmilla shakes her head slightly. Life has never had much appeal to her so far, but now with Laura in it… suddenly she doesn’t want to give it up. Even if that means she would have to take the risky step of staying with Laura and facing her Mother together, even if that means Laura may get killed along with her.
The vampire closes her eyes, almost groaning in frustration at how much this naïve, nosy girl has changed her centuries’ old perspectives and beliefs in the course of less than an hour.
She… realizes that she doesn’t want to die for Laura anymore.
She wants to live for her.
A gentle smirk tugs at Carmilla’s lips, because she knows full-well that not dying is definitely much harder than dying. She seems to have a knack for choosing the most troublesome paths.
Well, I guess I’ll just have to work double-time from now on, Carmilla muses. Because now I’ve got two lives to watch over, both belonging to overly-sentimental idiots.
Still, that turns out to be a surprisingly pleasant thought.
Carmilla huffs, finally opening her eyes to gaze back into Laura’s. It is like staring into hope itself—in them Carmilla sees all the joy life has to offer.
But that doesn’t change the fact that she’d be putting Laura’s life in danger by following her home. She has to make sure one more time.
“…So you really aren’t scared of living under the threat of my Mother’s imminent arrival, cupcake? In your own house? Because that’s exactly what you’re going to get if you take me with you, y’know.”
To Carmilla’s puzzlement, Laura laughs at this. She watches in confusion as the tiny girl shakes her head, her chocolate-brown eyes looking right into Carmilla’s dark ones with affection.
“Throughout everything we’ve gone through, Carm, I’ve often been scared,” Laura says with a shrug. “I was scared when we had to re-enter the library, I was scared when LaFontaine got kidnapped, I was scared when we stood in that dark cavern facing your Mother and Lophiiformes… but you know what? Even though I was scared, I still felt safe. I felt safe, Carmilla, because I knew you were there with me. Sentient books, evil vampires, hungry Light—I don’t care how crazily powerful they are, I’ve always believed we’ll come through somehow. Because you were there with me.”
Laura reaches out to lace her fingers with Carmilla’s.
“So don’t ever think that leaving me alone would save me, Carm, because the truth is I would just be more scared.”
Carmilla takes in a shaky breath, unable to stop the bittersweet smile from tugging at her lips.
Goddammit, this girl surely can talk me into anything, can’t she?
Laura holds her breath in apprehension, mildly worried by Carmilla’s prolonged silence. She hasn’t meant to sound clingy or needy, it is just how she honestly feels… but what if—
“…Fine, cupcake. You win.”
Laura looks up in surprise, half disbelieving her ears. She stares open-mouthed at Carmilla as the vampire shakes her head slightly and squeezes her hand back.
“I’ll follow you anywhere.”
The squeal of joy that Laura lets out almost blasted Carmilla’s eardrums, but it is nothing as compared to the bone-crushing hug that Carmilla suddenly finds herself trapped in.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Carm! I was so scared you wouldn’t listen to whatever I say, I thought I would never be able to convince you and I thought I would have to resort to—”
And so Laura continues doing what she does best: rambling. Without even once loosening her death grip around Carmilla’s torso. The vampire finds herself not minding, though—she is still not quite used to this warmth, but… it isn’t necessarily a bad feeling.
If this is what she would get by sticking around, then Carmilla reckons it isn’t so bad after all. Something blooms in her chest, and for the first time in a very long time, Carmilla actually feels hopeful.
What happens afterwards is slightly hazy for Carmilla—she’s in too much of a good mood to pay attention. Laura has declared that they have to go to sleep as soon as possible given how early they’ll need to leave tomorrow, but Carmilla couldn’t care less. She is too busy sneaking kisses on Laura’s lips whenever the girl pauses in her father-passed-to-daughter lecture on the dangers of inadequate sleep, and was about to lean in for another one when Laura stops her by holding her face in her hands.
Carmilla raises her eyebrows teasingly, struggling not to laugh as Laura stutters something along the lines of “stop that,” “cut it out,” and “we shouldn’t be doing this right now.” With her face as red as a traffic light, mind you.
“Carm, I’m serious,” Laura finally blurts out, stomping her foot in frustration as Carmilla gives up and breaks out laughing.
“All right, cupcake, all right. We can always continue tomorrow, right?” Carmilla relents, but adds a suggestive wink.
Laura chooses to ignore it. “Y-yeah. It’s way more than enough for a day—now go and push your bed over, you lazy vampire.”
Carmilla hums, leaning back on her heels to walk away—but pauses when she realizes that Laura hasn’t let go of her face. She stares at the girl quizzically.
Laura isn’t moving. She is just standing there, looking absolutely torn as she stares at Carmilla with a conflicted expression. A snarky remark was already right at the tip of Carmilla’s tongue, but it never even comes close to being actually uttered because right at that moment, Laura just lunges and seals their lips together.
Now that’s something Carmilla hasn’t been expecting.
Well, well, well. So much for ‘cut it out.’
Carmilla doesn’t protest though—she immediately kisses Laura back in earnest, smirking slightly when she hears the other girl whimper softly. When they separate, Laura’s face is even redder and she avoids looking at Carmilla.
Seeing that she is not going to get any voluntary explanation, Carmilla grins and crosses her arms.
“Now that’s what I call a sneak attack, cupcake,” she teases. “Who would’ve guessed that your entire lecture on ‘Let’s go to sleep ASAP’ was just a distraction?”
“Shut up, you. It wasn’t!” Laura swats her arm half-heartedly, fumbling over her words. “I… I just couldn’t stop myself, OK? And I thought one more wouldn’t hurt, so…”
Carmilla laughs, pulling Laura by the hand to give her a hug. She presses her lips against the top of Laura’s head affectionately, humming in contentment.
“You’re too much sometimes, sweetheart.”
Ten minutes later, they are finally ready to sleep. Carmilla has pushed her bed next to Laura’s as requested, and is lying her head contentedly on the yellow pillow as Laura fumbles with the blanket. When Laura lies down next to her, however, a thought strikes her.
Carmilla mulls over it for a while, hesitating. She doesn’t know if it’s okay—
“You’re frowning, Carm."
Carmilla blinks, startled. Laura is gazing back at her curiously, her blanket pulled up to her chin. Even in the dim light, Carmilla can’t help but notice how utterly adorable she looks.
Carmilla shakes her head, smiling slightly. “Nah, it’s nothing.”
“Come on, I know something is going on in that head of yours! Just tell me.”
“I thought we were supposed to be sleeping?”
“Yeah, but pillow talks are always great in helping me to sleep.”
Carmilla rolls her eyes. “It’s not exactly a bedtime story, you know."
“I wouldn’t know if you don’t say it.”
Carmilla groans, knowing she is not getting out of this one. For the sake of her sleeping time, she just goes ahead and asks.
“You know when you said you feel safe whenever you’re with me? I was just curious… how can you feel that way? I’m a vampire, you know. The ‘undead fiend from the pits of hell,’ as you said. I may just decide to eat you one day if I’m hungry.”
Laura laughs when she hears Carmilla’s question, but it isn’t because of the question per se. Rather, it is because she is pleasantly surprised that Carmilla remembers the things she said so well.
…Not that Laura doesn’t regret saying certain things to Carmilla.
But those are for another time. Adjusting her position such that she can gaze right into the vampire’s eyes, Laura answers.
“Yeah, well, firstly I need to apologize for calling you that,” she begins. “I was being ignorant back then, and I’m really sorry. You’re so much more than that, Carm.”
Carmilla scoffs. “Gee, thanks. But you still haven’t answered me, cupcake.”
“I was wary of you at the beginning, of course, there’s no denying it! Why else would I have asked for help from Danny and the Zetas if it wasn’t because I was scared?” Laura chuckles. “But then, as we go… I noticed that you never tried to hurt me. You never tried to break free from the ropes; you never tried to eat me despite the many opportunities you had; you never even as much as bared your fangs at me! Sure there was the exception of that time when you actually bit me, but hey, I didn’t even get to see your fangs. And you just barely took a sip of my blood. So yeah, that incident is not counted! All in all, as a vampire I think you’re pretty much—“
“You’d better not say ‘tame.’”
“—useless,” Laura continues with a grin.
"Forgive my apparent ignorance on the modern usage of English, but what kind of linguistic evolution has taken place in the last century that made you believe 'useless' is a more positive adjective than 'tame'?”
Laura laughs that beautiful laughter that Carmilla can listen to all day. The vampire raises an eyebrow at the girl, but Laura just giggles and pulls her hand from underneath the blanket to pat Carmilla’s cheek good-naturedly.
“It’s not, actually. But you’re my useless vampire, so it isn’t so bad.”
Carmilla groans. “You’re lucky I’m sleepy, otherwise I would’ve bitten your head off for that.”
“Except you wouldn’t,” Laura snickers, snuggling closer to Carmilla.
“Keep the temerity up, Hollis, and you might just find out for yourself.”
Laura laughs, but then adds more seriously, “Really, though. Despite everything evil that many seem to associate with vampires, I know you have a kind heart, Carm. Being a vampire is definitely a part of you, but it’s not the entirety of who you are. I know how nice you can be.”
Carmilla doesn’t respond and just stares at Laura, but her eyes betray her surprise and gratitude. Unable to maintain the intensity of her gaze, Laura breaks into a shy grin.
“Uh, that’s just how I see you, of course. Again, I’m sorry for saying all those mean things to you, and for suspecting you of things you never did.”
Carmilla smiles slowly at this, her gaze softening.
“As I said, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it, cupcake,” she whispers huskily.
Laura returns her smile, and for a moment they just lie contentedly next to each other, letting the haze of sleep wash over them.
However, right before Laura actually falls into sleep, Carmilla speaks up.
“…I’m sorry too, y’know.”
Laura opens her eyes, blinking a few times.
“For what?”
“For calling you a liability.”
Carmilla shifts, fixing the yellow pillow under her head. She then turns to look back into Laura’s eyes.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, so… you most certainly are not, and will never be, a liability to me.”
Laura smiles at this, shifting closer to Carmilla so that their foreheads meet. In the darkness of the room, she whispers, “I know you didn’t mean it, Carm, so don’t worry about it. Thanks, anyway—that’s really sweet of you.”
Laura’s got to admit, they have never been exactly touchy feely with each other thus far. Carmilla has always had this aura about her which seems to promise intense suffering to those who wander too close, and even though Laura has become somewhat immune to it, she is still unsure if Carmilla actually minds physical contact. Sure, Carmilla had ben the one to initiate the waltz, the kiss and had most certainly reacted in a very... favourable... way upon Laura kissing her; but Laura still isn't feeling 100% secure. Maybe around 70%. The feeling is quickly rising to 80% though, when Carmilla wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. Laura happily obliges, burrowing her face into the crook of Carmilla's neck. She smiles softly when Carmilla hums in approval.
Who would’ve thought a vampire could be this huggable? Laura thinks to herself as she snuggles even closer to Carmilla. ‘Dracula’ might have mentioned that vampires’ skin is as cold as a corpse’s, but it turns out that Carmilla is really very warm.
Laura’s consciousness has just begun to dim when she suddenly remembers something. She musters all her college-born self-discipline to crack an eye open, gazing sleepily at Carmilla.
“…Carm?”
“Mmhhmm?” Carmilla mumbles without even opening her eyes.
“I just remembered something.”
Carmilla’s eyes open slowly. “What is it?”
“You still have to show me your fangs one day. Like, really let me see them.”
Carmilla laughs.
“Behave yourself and I might just let you, cupcake. Definitely not now, though.”
“Yeah, sure, I’m too sleepy right now anywaaa…”
Laura never gets to finish her sentence, because her eyes give up in staying open and she falls into the sleep realm right then. Beside her, Carmilla chuckles as she, too, lets sleep prevail.
Silas University, Laura’s dorm room, an hour past midnight.
Carmilla’s eyes snap open in the darkness. She blinks a few times, fighting off the weight of sleep. Beside her, Laura is still blissfully asleep, pressed close against Carmilla’s side with one arm draped over the vampire’s waist.
Dammit, I was just getting to sleep…
Carmilla considers curling back in for a few more minutes, but she knows full well that she would never get anything done if she does that. No matter how tempting that idea is, she still has something more pressing to do.
Blinking a few more times to get her eyes adjusted to the dark—vampires have perfect vision even in low light—Carmilla listens to Laura’s breathing beside her. The girl seems to be fast asleep, judging from her deep and even breathing.
Once she is certain that Laura’s too far gone in dream land to be disturbed, Carmilla shifts and gently removes Laura’s arm from around her waist. She pauses to gauge the reaction—nothing—before slipping out of bed soundlessly. Laura mumbles something incoherent, but otherwise remains fast asleep.
All right.
Without wasting any more time, Carmilla grabs her boots and tugs them on. She stretches to get the stiffness off her shoulders, then heads towards the door.
Despite everything, Carmilla has agreed to follow Laura to her home. In less than six hours, they would already have to set off. And while Carmilla has relatively no more qualms about it after Laura talks her into it, she still has one last unfinished business to take care of before they leave Silas in the morning.
Carmilla has learned from Laura that Will is dead; that the ginger twin Perry has somehow managed to stake him in the heart at the beginning of the battle at the Lustig. Carmilla has merely scoffed when Laura told her, claiming that she wasn’t surprised knowing Will’s incompetence. She paid the news no heed.
In truth, though… she might have felt a tiny pang of loss.
Carmilla huffs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She is being a sentimental idiot again. In a way, she isn’t better than that incompetent idiot Will. Carmilla stands undecided in the dark for a moment, wondering if she should really just go back to sleep.
She shouldn’t even bother at all. Will was despicable. While Carmilla wouldn’t deny that she enjoys the thrill of hunting and the satisfaction of feeding, she has never seen the need to torture her victims. Unlike Will.
Will hunted and killed in the most brutal way possible. He toyed with his food, pushed his victims to their limits only to laugh as despair overwhelmed them, then killed them once he was bored—simply because he liked it that way. He revelled in his superior strength and gave absolutely no mercy nor respect to his victims. He thought himself above humans, and treated them like trash.
And he always found ways to screw with Carmilla, either verbally or with deliberate actions. Most of them were just empty threats, of course—Carmilla is way stronger than Will to feel even remotely threatened by him. But dealing with him has always been vexing. Exasperating, even, when he chose really bad timing to give her trouble; such as when they were supposed to complete some elaborate task Maman gave them.
Carmilla can still remember the countless times they had butted heads, fangs bared, arms flexing and ready to tear each other into shreds. Hell, given the opportunity, she would’ve gladly taken Perry’s role and ended Will in that cave under the Lustig. He was a thug, an idiot, an immoral brute whose only joy was in following Maman’s orders in the goriest way possible.
He was definitely not someone Carmilla would spend her time and energy on.
But despite all of that… he was still the closest thing to a brother that Carmilla ever has.
Besides, unlike Maman, Will had never actually hurt her. In fact, he has also suffered Maman’s harsh punishments at times. They both have. Carmilla has often found herself guarding the perimeters while Will crawled into a corner to heal his wounds after the punishments, and he had also repeatedly done the same for her. Sure, they made sure to throw insults and death wishes while guarding, but those never hurt as much as the wounds.
…And there were also those rare times when they actually had mild fun during their missions together.
At this thought, an uninvited memory suddenly flashes through Carmilla’s mind. It was night time—the moon was obscured behind a thick volume of clouds, and the earth was blanketed in darkness. She was standing with Will before a rogue vampire, both with their eyes narrowed and fangs bared, ready to rip the other vampire into pieces even as he spouted threats and insults at them. Will had his arms crossed, laughing deliberately when the rogue threw a particularly insulting jibe at Carmilla. Carmilla had rolled her eyes, telling Will that it was time to put an end to this nonsense. About time, he had replied as he cracked his knuckles and smirked at her. And she, knowing the fun they were about to have, smirked back.
…Goddammit.
Cursing inward, Carmilla forces herself to stop thinking about these worthless memories and quietly pulls the door open. Once outside, she sprints—heading straight towards the Lustig building.
Silas University, caverns under the Lustig, a few hours past midnight.
The caverns are pitch-black, at least to human’s eyes. Carmilla clenches her jaws as she walks briskly through them, ears picking up on every small noise from the trickle of water on rock to the muffled scurrying of rats. The air isn’t as heavy as when she first stepped into this place, but that is to be expected given Lophiiformes’ defeat.
Temporary defeat, she reminds herself.
God, what was she thinking? Who knows what might happen if she gets too close and her presence somehow reawakens Lophiiformes? She is definitely powerless now, without any sort of weapon in hand. For a few seconds, Carmilla seriously contemplates turning tail and just go back to the dorms. That stupid jerk Will definitely doesn’t worth risking so much, after all.
…But then again, nothing has happened so far. No rumbling, no tremor, nothing. Even though Carmilla was the one striking Lophiiformes, it doesn’t seem to be reacting in any way upon her intrusion to its lair.
Maybe it is still too weak after their battle to try anything funny.
…Or maybe it’s just the cupcake’s ridiculous optimism rubbing on Carmilla. She might never know, and she would only be wasting her time if she simply stands here hesitating.
Huffing almost in irritation, Carmilla proceeds to dash deeper into the caves, deciding that she would go as far as she deems safe. The moment she hears any rumbling or feels any tremor, she would be out of this damned place faster than Laura can ever say ‘hold on.’
Besides, it is exactly because shehates this place so much that she couldn’t bear to leave Will’s body to rot here.
When vampires die, their bodies do not decay. Instead, it will gradually turn into ashes if left in the dark, similar to a decaying human body. However, should the body be basked in direct sunlight, it would immediately turn into ashes.
Carmilla stops a few feet away from the lip of the pit, reluctant to get too close. She can still remember falling into that abyss, darkness and pain enveloping her throughout the seemingly endless fall. She narrows her eyes, trying to locate Will amidst the mess of rubble and several dead vampires near the edge of the chasm. Luckily, the Zetas haven’t bothered to push the vampire bodies into the pit when they were throwing those retarded cherry bombs back then.
…Although it would’ve meant less work for Carmilla if they had.
It is right at that moment that Carmilla finally locates Will’s body. He is lying face-down on the rocky ground, a stake protruding from his back. No wonder Perry managed to end him, Carmilla thought. The idiot was so absorbed in watching the sacrifice that he hadn’t noticed Perry and Laura sneaking behind him, before Perry drove the stake into his back and through his heart.
Incompetent idiot as always.
Without wasting any more sentiments, Carmilla bends down and grabs Will’s arms, hauling him onto her back easily. She then leaves the caverns immediately without any backward glance.
It is rather hard to climb to the roof of the Lustig building while carrying Will’s body on her back, but Carmilla manages anyway. Once she hauls herself onto the flat roof, she proceeds to drag the body towards the centre. She wouldn’t want any random students spotting it should they happened to look up from the courtyard in the morning.
At least he didn’t suffer.
Carmilla’s face doesn’t betray any emotion as she finally takes a good look at Will. Given that not much time has passed since the battle, his body is still pretty much intact. He looks… well, like himself. Only unmoving. His expression isn’t that of pain, either—it is more of shock. He never saw what was coming. Carmilla reckons she prefers it that way. Gingerly, she reaches forward to close his eyes.
Done.
…There is nothing else she can do. When the sun rises in the morning, just a few hours from now, Will’s body would turn into ashes and scatter in the wind. She figures he would prefer it that way, as opposed to rotting in that damp, dark cavern.
Carmilla gets to her feet, the night breeze sending her raven hair fluttering. She turns to leave, but stops at the last second.
It still hasn’t felt enough.
Which is ridiculous—she owes Will literally nothing, and he definitely enjoyed screwing with her. He was a despicable thug at best.
…But this would be the last time she could see the despicable thug. After decades of living and serving together under Mother’s wing, this would be the last time Carmilla sees him. His had always been an annoying presence she couldn’t wait to get rid of, but he was still one of the very few constants she had in her life. Throughout the years, they had often been separated, depending on what job Maman had for each of them. But every time they part ways, Carmilla had always known—although often with disdain—that they would eventually see each other again when Maman calls them back.
“See you around, Kitty," Will would always say mockingly.
A rueful smirk tugs at Carmilla’s lips. Just this once… just this once, maybe she can afford some sentiments.
“See you in another life, you vicious idiot,” Carmilla whispers into the night. “Wherever you are, I hope you’re contentedly wreaking havoc now.”
And then she departs.