Chapter Text
The note is on the bedside table the morning after graduation. Carmilla never had a lot of things but the absence of them is sharp and startling. Her curling script tells Laura to not be afraid, that she'll find someone one day, that she'll be happy.
Laura cries for three days and then does what she always does when she's lost something.
She gets it back.
Laura packs everything she needs into a little red jeep she buys second hand from a guy named Rudy. The sun is just setting when she pulls out of town. As she drives she names all the constellations under her breath. Carmilla would have done it. Carmilla would have named their origins and their stories as well. Laura wishes she could remember them now, if only to hear Carmilla's voice playing in her head.
When she pulls into LaF and Perry's London suburb four days later they are happy to see her. Pie is on the table and little Juliet peaks around her mother's legs only twice before deciding Laura is Acceptable. Over tea and apple filling Laura recounts her plan out loud for the very first time. Perry exclaims about drastic measures and the ease of a private detective. LaFontaine simply nods.
They end up discussing the logistics and unknown variables long into the night. There are a lot of them, Laura admits quietly. They will only get one shot at this.
LaF reminds her she won't be going in alone and Laura snorts into her whiskey.
If only that were true.
Laura sees Carmilla every time she's in a crowd. One second she's there and the next she's gone. Sometimes an unfamiliar brunette takes the vision's place, sometimes there is no one there at all. She finds herself reaching out for Carmilla's hand sometimes, in these instances, knowing that Carmilla isn't a shape in the distance because Carmilla is always and perpetually right beside-
Oh.
She never stops looking for Carmilla. Not even when she's looking for him instead. She checks classifieds and news headings and obituaries at four am after a night on the town. Her whole life has narrowed to searching, grasping, reaching. It is, after all, what she has always done.
She isn't idle while she searches either. She writes about what and who she finds with the same enthusiasm she journaled her years at Silas. Her photographs are like nothing ever seen before, odd half captured moments and daring stunts all with Laura at the center. Before long her blog has a million followers all begging her to visit their town or their country. She goes through the list three times before she stops guessing which one is Carmilla.
She goes to New York every year on Carmilla's birthday and visits the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Every year she asks if anyone remembers seeing a girl matching Carmilla's description.
Every year they say no.
Three months, nineteen days, and ten hours after reading Carmilla's letter, Laura finds the man she's been looking for. He's perpetually sixteen and enjoys singing to dogs in the alley behind the restaurant where he works when he's not sneaking into R-rated movies he's far too old for. Casper is like most vampires. He believes that love is the only thing truly forever and -he tells Laura in a hushed voice one night as they sit atop the eiffel tower- after that too because love creates and creates no matter it's form and the marks never really completely fade away.
Laura touches the scar on her neck and tells him he's probably right.
"Good," Casper says, "That means you're ready."
The first thing she remembers is a million pinpricks of light and a hunger so devastating she growls before she even knows what's happening. Flesh nudges against her teeth and suddenly her gums are splitting open with a pain that nothing will ever rival and her mouth is filled with copper and salt.
Laura drinks and drinks until the blood runs dry. Somewhere there is a voice in the distance telling her it's okay, that it will be over soon, that the price is worth the prize. It is familiar and warm and it is there again when she wakes up beneath twenty odd blankets with a mug of something warm and viscous waiting for her. Casper smiles at her and tosses her an old class ring inscribed with a V. She quirks an eyebrow at him and he reassures her that it's just an old joke some of the wanderers share.
The vampire clans broke long ago, he explains, those of us who remember like to joke that we'll have a reunion one day.
Laura laughs.
A reunion is all she's looking for.
Traveling is easier with a vampire physique. Missing trains is damn near impossible and there's a meal with every flight provided you're subtle enough. Laura goes everywhere she can possibly get her hands on. Carmilla is out there somewhere and Laura knows the day will come that they're standing in front of each other again, in whatever way the universe has in store. Immortality makes it somewhat easier, she thinks. It takes away the concept of if, and transforms every wish into a "when".
In between chasing leads on Carmilla's whereabouts she finds herself in many a diner and many a hostel. She climbs mountains and crosses the wildest terrain in the world. Every exploration is documented down to the second and by the time she's 25 travel magazines are calling every hour on the hour desperately seeking her skills. "The view of the century," Time calls her.
Her spread in National Geographic is called "Rejuvenation: Joy and the Universe."
Laura finally gets her hands on it six months after it comes out. She'd been tracking a lead up the chilean coast, sightings of a strange girl in black passing through with a Silas backpack over one shoulder. She'd received a blurry picture in response to a post she'd uploaded to her blog pleading for any information about a vaguely described Carmilla. Laura's followers are more than eager to help her find clues as to Carmilla's whereabouts but more often than not they turn up empty.
A decade goes by, two decades. Juliet gets married in a field next to a lake and it reminds Laura of how she and Carmilla always talked about tying the knot under the stars. She cries with Perry and LaFontaine but for entirely different reasons.
Some days Laura doesn't know if she should even keep looking or not. Carmilla obviously doesn't want to be found. Laura's work is plastered every where from magazines to blockbuster films. Internet junkies rave and debate who the mysterious girl is with such frequency that Carmilla probably sees posts about herself while doing something as mundane as shopping for new leather pants. There's no way Carmilla doesn't know Laura is looking for her.
The first time someone asks her how she stays looking so young Laura is forty-five and walking the red carpet of the latest film she helped scout locations for. She manages to laugh it off and change the subject. Over the next few years she minimizes her appearances until only a select few see her at all. Her travel crew shrinks to the size of one and suddenly it is just like the old days.
For the next twenty years Laura travels the world looking at people instead of places. She's lonely and tired and seeking a connection, any connection, to temporarily stop up the hole in her heart. She publishes a ten book series called "The Faces In Between" and becomes the first journalist to ever make over a billion dollars in book sales.
She gives almost all of it away.
The rest she uses to dig up information on Carmilla.
The last piece of information the private detectives are able to find is a passport being used in Germany nearly fifteen years prior. Laura recognizes the date immediately. She'd been at a conference in Berlin on wildlife conservation. Carmilla had been in the very same city and yet they'd never met.
So close yet so far.
The media starts calling her out for the disappearing act. Blog posts and tabloid articles speculate as to the reason behind her sudden absence. Laura tells them it's part of her work, that solitude helps her create the art they've all grown to love. The magazines scream that she's sacrificed her whole life for her craft and artists everywhere praise her.
Oh how she wishes it were that simple.
The last 23 years of her life are spent writing a book on how to live a good long life. Laura figures it's the kind of thing someone her age should be writing. She still travels, but under a fake name. Her hair has long since been dyed a deep rich brown and glasses help her offset her look enough that she gets "well aren't you familiar" a lot more than "You're Laura Hollis!" The world thinks she's holed up at home enjoying her twilight years with her family. Word had gotten out about Casper some while ago and most people believed him to be her son. They'd had a good laugh about that one, considering.
She still calls the Museum every year to ask about Carmilla, but she hasn't actually set foot in it since her slow fade from the limelight. The secretary might be new every few years but that doesn't stop people from recognizing her.
When she decides it's time for Laura Hollis to die, Casper returns with a new slew of favors under his belt. They use a six month absence thirty years prior as a cover for pregnancy and mix in a disastrous scandal on Casper's part to produce a granddaughter. An impromptu nose ring completes the look and Lila Hollis makes her debut on late night TV soon after. Yes my grandma is in good health. Yes I will be taking over her business. Yes I know, we do look like twins.
Laura is 87 years old when her casket is lowered gently into the ground. Lafontaine says the eulogy over a white rose as Perry cries convincingly in the background. Nearly six hundred people show up for the funeral. Laura as Lila cries the hardest. They are saying one goodbye. She is saying all of them.
After the reception LaF and Perry come over and they drink until they're twenty again. Laura's heart aches for Carmilla. She doesn't understand why the world is so cruel.
The announcement in the mail comes a few months later. An anonymous donor has paid for the construction of a new wing at the MET in Laura's name. The Hollis wing will showcase new and innovative photography from upcoming photo journalists and would Lila like to attend in honor of her late grandmother?
Laura replies that she would very much like to attend, but that she prefer her presence be kept under wraps. Usually she wouldn't bother with something like a grand opening but the museum holds a special place in her heart after all these years. She tells herself she's not going because of Carmilla, and she knows it is a lie.
When she walks into the museum six months later she is delighted to see none of the exhibits are familiar. Almost all of the people invited to the event are people she'd worked with at one time or another and she catches herself responding as Laura instead of Lila several times. She's relieved when the curator announces it's time for the ceremony and finds a spot to stand in the back where she won't be seen.
It's quick and uneventful. Someone makes a speech. A ribbon is cut.
Laura hesitates before actually going into the wing that bears her name. Its a little weird to be honest. Her whole life is up on the walls. She takes a deep breath and tells herself to girl the hell up. It's just an exhibit.
The display on the very first wall nearly kills her.
Laura Hollis: The Woman Behind The lens
The exhibit isn't only about her work, it's about Laura in and of herself. Each picture is captioned with a little blurb explaining the context and significance of the piece to her life, as well as the ways in which Laura's personality presents itself through the work. Laura has a difficult time keeping her jaw from dragging along the floor. Some of the passages are so beautiful and whole that she nearly cries. Who could have written such poignant thoughts on her life? Who could have known?
She's standing under a picture Laura took on a trip to the rainforest, all curls and a little black dress. Her pale fingers are curled around her opposite wrist loosely at her back. Her voice cuts through the air, as low and silky as ever.
“Oh I couldn’t possibly take all the credit,” she says to the curator and a wealthy patron.
“Of course you can! You put this whole wing together and since you won’t tell me your sources on any of the information you somehow dug up, you’re the only one we can give any of the credit to anyway!” The curator and the patron laugh and Carmilla, bless her vampiric heart, scuffs her nice shoes on the floor and ducks her head in embarrassment.
Laura feels like her heart is shattering into a million pieces and mending itself all in the same moment. Her skin feels hot and tight and god does she want to just run over and press herself into Carmilla’s back and hold her forever.
She doesn’t, because that would blow her cover and Carmilla’s if she has one. Instead she wanders closer and closer until she’s standing with her back to the small gathering Carmilla is at the center of. They chat for a while longer about what pieces were selected and why before the curator and the man walk off together and leave Carmilla alone.
She made this whole exhibit for me, Laura thinks to herself.
“You’ve been staring at that one an awfully long time,” Carmilla says behind her, “Do you have any questions?”
“Yeah, a couple actually,” Laura replies as she turns around to face Carmilla. The polite smile on Carmilla’s face drops away faster than lightning.
“By my calculations we haven’t seen each other in, oh I don’t know, nearly sixty five years and I was just wondering how in the world you found out all this stuff about me without ever dropping by to say hello and wow you really have gotten more attractive haven’t you?” The words spill out of her mouth like an emotional flood of giddy nerves and elation. Carmilla is stock still in front of her.
“You’re dead,” she breathes, eyes wide in disbelief. Laura grimaces.
“Yeah, about that… I sort of got myself turned into a vampire after you left and I’ve been looking for you ever since?” For a moment Carmilla looks absolutely wounded and then her hand is closing around Laura’s wrist and they’re flying across the floor towards an employees only door. It slams closed behind them and Carmilla whirls away, her hands running through her hair faster than humanely possible.
“I cannot believe you seriously went out and got yourself turned for me. Do you know how dangerous vampires can be? Contrary to popular belief I’m actually one of the cuddlier ones, Laura!” Laura frowns and reaches out for Carmilla.
“Hey, look, I’m fine! All in one piece and totally have been for the past sixty odd years! Besides what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who left all high and mighty like you were doing me some kind of service by running out on me!” Carmilla steps away from Laura and shakes her head.
“I was! I was giving you a chance to be normal for once in your life! God Laura, everyone knew how torn up you were that I was going to outlive you. I couldn’t make you live like that, and perhaps I was selfish because I didn’t want to outlive you either and I thought this… distance would soothe the pain of your passing, but it was meant to give you a chance at something real.” Laura sighs in frustration and reaches out again to take Carmilla’s hands in her own. This time Carmilla doesn’t resist, she just bites her lip and looks at the floor.
“Carm, you are real. This is what I want and I’ve spent my entire human life span trying to find you so that I could have this chance right here with you because it is the only chance that means anything to me at all. I got turned because I’m selfish and stupid and I didn’t want you to outlive me because I wanted to be with you until the day you die and if that day never comes then fine! To hell with death! Just… please don’t leave again.” Laura realizes she’s crying only when Carmilla wipes the tears away with her thumb. Her other arm snakes around Laura’s waist and Laura’s hands fall to Carmilla’s ribs with such familiarity it burns.
“I’m such an idiot,” Carmilla murmurs and she’s looking at Laura with tears in her eyes and a watery smile at her lips that speaks so many more words than her tongue could ever manage.
Laura presses her lips to Carmilla’s so softly it hardly feels real. She’s trembling and digging her fingers into Carmilla’s dress and then they’re kissing again and again and Laura doesn’t think she’s ever felt anything as perfect as the way Carmilla holds her close like she’s delicate and powerful all at once.
“I missed you,” Laura sobs, “I missed you every single day.” Carmilla nods and takes shuddering breath after shuddering breath.
“Leaving you was dying all over again,” she whispers. Laura can’t help but run her hands over every part of Carmilla she can get to. She buries her face in Carmilla’s shoulder and just breathes in her scent, all forest and fire and stale copper. Carmilla kisses every inch of Laura’s face and runs her hands through Laura’s hair. She’d forgotten how good Laura feels, how solid and real and alive she is under Carmilla’s fingertips. How had she ever left? How had she even got out the door?
“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, you stupid vampire,” Laura mumbles against her collarbone. Carmilla laughs and wipes the tears off her own face.
“Ditto, cupcake.” Laura grins and snuggles further into Carmilla’s arms. They stand there together for what must seem like ages to the people out in the gallery.
To them it just feels like the rest of their lives.
Or y’know, forever.