Going Home

Carmilla didn’t return to the bookstore the following day. Instead she went to the local café to find herself a job. Though part of it was due to finding herself bored in the small town, the other part was remembering that Laura had developed a caffeine habit their second year of high school and was hoping she hadn’t yet kicked it.

Bernie still owned the coffee shop, and he was kind and jovial and cynical enough that he always had a soft spot for Carmilla. He offered her a job, with the condition that she’s nice to at least three quarters of the customers she served. She attempted to haggle him down to two, but he was adamant.

Laura walked in early the next morning, and Carmilla thanked past her for introducing the girl to extra strong lattes. She looked like she planned to walk straight out again, but Lafontaine whispered something in her ear, and she stalked up to the counter.

“How can I help you?”

“You’ve never worked a day in your life.”

“When’s the time to start if not when you’re twenty six?”

“Two lattes,” said Laf, interrupting them, “And a cookie.”

“Chocolate chip?” Carmilla guessed.

“You know it.”

As she sorted out their drinks, then enquired into their mornings. Laf answered politely, while Laura just glared.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Joey Johnson was talking shit.”

Lafontaine laughed. “History does repeat itself.”

Carmilla glanced at Laura, who was looking stonily at the display counter. “So they say. I’m trying here, cupcake,” Carmilla said quietly, handing over the drinks and cookie.

“No one’s asking you to.” She snatched the bag off Carmilla. Laf smiled apologetically as they followed after her.

Three hours later, as Carmilla was half way through breaking for lunch, Laura came back in.

“Where did you live?” she demanded.

Carmilla froze half way between eating. “What?”

“Wait. No. Hold on.” Laura thought furiously for a moment.

“You okay there?”

“Shut up. Did you stay wherever it was you went to when you left, and if not where have you been living?”

“Pretty sure that’s two questions.”

“It’s one question with two answers.”

“Do you want to sit down?”

Laura looked at the chair in question like it had asked her something difficult. “No,” she eventually decided.

“We went straight to New York. Lived there ever since.”

“With Ell?”

“You really need to get your head around this one question business. Why don’t you come back when I’m closing up? Ask then.”

“What makes you think I want to do that?”

Carmilla shrugged. “If we don’t have hope, what do we have?”

//

Laura returned at five, as Carmilla was cleaning the tables and putting away the chairs. She smiled at Laura.

“Hey, cupcake. How was your day?”

“Fine.”

“You used to talk a lot more.”

“I used to do a lot of things.”

“Do you want to help?” She offered the rag.

“Nope.”

“Ask away.”

“I thought Ell was off limits.”

“Find a way around it. You wanted to be a journalist once, if I remember.” Carmilla didn’t bother asking what happened to that dream. She knew exactly what happened. “Sit down if you want. Try not to step on anything that looks wet. I hate mopping.”

Laura sat on a dry table. “Who have you lived with so far?”

Carmilla smiled in approval. “I lived with Ell for two years after we left. It was fine. Nice. Then things started to change between us. We stopped living together after that.” Carmilla was purposefully vague, and grateful Laura stayed silent. “Then I was on my own for a bit. Then I got a place with a friend.”

“A friend?”

“I have friends. No need to sound so shocked.”

“Does your friend know you’re here or did you leave them without notice too?”

Carmilla looked at Laura long enough to make her feel a small amount of guilt.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“That wasn’t fair.”

“I have a small amount of bitterness.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Why did you get a job?” she asked instead of pushing Carmilla for information she knew she wouldn’t give.

“Big house. Not much to do in it.”

“You’re staying in your house?”

Carmilla shrugged. “It was left to me. It’s all I’ve got at the moment.”

Silence lapsed between them, as Carmilla cleaned and Laura thought. Finally, Carmilla broke it.

“How about a truce?”

“A truce?” Laura moved out the way as Carmilla reached her table to clean.

“I don’t expect forgiveness yet. Maybe I’ll never get it. But I will be sticking around. And I don’t want to make your life harder, Laura. I didn’t come here to drag up bad feelings for you or stop you from doing anything. If you don’t want me to serve you, I won’t. If you want me to stay away from Laf and Perry, I will. Whatever it is you want just tell me, and I’ll try to do it. But I can’t do this anymore.”

“I don’t want those things,” Laura said quietly. “I want to stop being so angry at you.”

“But you can’t,” Carmilla smiled sadly, “And I get that. But we can try for a truce. We’ve done it once before.”

Laura was silent for a moment, before nodding. Carmilla’s smile became less sad.

//

"Just read the question."

"Just tell me the answer."

"That isn't how this works."

Carmilla ignored the question Laura was trying to show her, choosing instead to poke fun at every aspect of Laura's room.

"Are you sure you have enough Doctor Who merchandise?"

"Pay attention."

"There might still be ten year olds you haven't deprive yet."

"Carmilla!"

Carmilla sulked and flopped down opposite Laura on the floor. "It doesn't matter. Give me the answers."

"No. I have to teach you."

"And a splendid job you’re doing.”

"Just read the question."

"I can't."

"You're not even looking."

"Because I know I can't."

Frustration was making way for tears as Carmilla blatantly refused to cooperate.

"Why are you like this?" Laura stormed out the room and downstairs before Carmilla saw the tears. She stomped into the kitchen where her mother was preparing lunch.

"Sweetie?"

"She's impossible."

"What's wrong?"

"She says she can't understand the numbers. She won’t even try."

Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to get some cookies, before heading upstairs and to Laura's room. She knocked and entered, finding Carmilla with her back against the bed staring at a sheet of paper.

"I didn't mean to make her cry."

"I believe you."

Sarah offered Carmilla a cookie, which she refused, before sitting down next to her.

“I just don’t understand it,” she said quietly.

Sarah nodded. “It’s harder for some than others.”

"Mother says I'm not trying hard enough."

"That's not true. But there are other ways you can try. Do you mind if I get Laura so she can help?"

"I really didn't mean to make her cry."

Laura and her mother spent the afternoon coming up with ways for Carmilla to understand what is being asked of her. If Laura offered Carmilla more cookies after feeling guilty for being so hard on her, she chose to ignore it.

"This doesn't make us friends," she told Carmilla as she was leaving.

"Oh thank god."

"And you still need to do more work before the test."

"Your words are as encourage as ever, teach."

"Goodbye, Carmilla."

"See you, Laura."

//

“Laura?” Perry peered around the storeroom door to where Laura was stacking books, looking contemplative. “Are you okay?” Laura shrugged, not having much of an answer. “Lafontaine said you and Carmilla have reached some sort of understanding.”

“A truce,” Laura said. “Though I don’t really know what that means.”

“I think it’s good.”

Laura nodded. “I’m not so sure, but I hope so.” She smiled at Perry, who returned it, hoping her friend would return to her usual high spirits.

“I would like to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Lafontaine and I were considering inviting Carmilla around for dinner one night.”

“Okay.”

“Would you be okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m going to assume that’s a rhetorical question.”

Laura sighed. “Even if I wasn’t okay with it, that shouldn’t stop you. But it’s fine. She was your friend too. You should get to spend time with her.”

“Would you like to join us?” Laura stopped stacking, her grip tightening on a book. “Your truce, remember.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“I’m making my stuffed peppers.”

“With cheese?”

“What else.”

“Maybe I could swing by.”

//

Carmilla stood outside Perry and Lafontaine’s house, full off apprehension and a small amount of whiskey. Perry had invited her to dinner, bribing her with the promise of stuffed peppers, then blindsided her with the news Laura would also be there. She wanted to talk to Laura, wanted to earn back some sort of relationship with her, but encounters so far had been brief and far from amicable. This encounter would be lengthy, and with people, and it set Carmilla’s nerves racing.

She knocked and Perry answered, wearing an apron and looking frantic.

“Laf blow something up again?” Carmilla asked as Perry took the wine she offered.

“I asked them to heat the mushrooms. They used a Bunsen burner.”

Carmilla grinned as she was led inside. It faltered slightly as she saw Laura, but she recovered and plastered it back on.

“Hey,” she greeted her.

Laura nodded her own greeting. “Hey.”

There was silence until Lafontaine burst from the kitchen. “I knew it would work. Mushrooms are heated. Hi, Carmilla.”

“How’s it going, nerd?”

“I’m revolutionising cooking.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Perry followed Laf into the kitchen, complaining worriedly the whole time, leaving Laura and Carmilla to stand awkwardly.

“Do you want a drink?”

“How was your day?”

They both spoke over each other. Then fell back into silence.

“Any way we can make this not awkward?” ventured Carmilla.

“One of us could leave?” It wasn’t said unkindly, and it made Carmilla smile.

“I’m kind of committed to these stuffed peppers.”

“It’s the main reason I came.”

“You mean this uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing silence just isn’t doing it for you?”

Laura smiled and shook her head. “We have a truce, remember.”

“We do.”

“We can make this not awkward.”

“I hope so.”

Dinner bordered on awkward for a few moments, before the four of them fell into conversation that became easier. A few times Laura and Carmilla made the other laugh, and though they didn’t talk directly, it was a start.

Carmilla was half way through a story when her phone rang. She froze mid-sentence, before frantically fumbling for it before launching herself from her seat and rushing out ‘Sorry about this’ and ‘Excuse me for a moment’. She hadn’t even made it to the door before it stopped ringing. Carmilla looked down at it accusatorily. “Shit.”

The three at the table sat staring at her. Carmilla’s attention was brought back by Perry’s polite cough. Carmilla ran her hands through her hair, slightly embarrassed at her reaction.

“Sorry,” she said, pocketing the phone. “That might have been important.”

“We gathered.” Laf received a smack on the arm by Perry.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Carmilla said distractedly. “If it’s important they’ll call back.” She noticed the way Laura was staring stonily at her foot. “What?” she demanded, slightly harshly.

Laura glanced at. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Leave it.”

“What’s that look?”

“I said forget it.”

“It wasn’t who you thought.”

“And who did I think?”

“Ell.”

Laura’s expression turned dangerous. “Don’t go there.”

“That’s your Ell face. It wasn’t her. And I don’t have to explain myself.”

“I never said you did!” Laura stood up sharply.

“I don’t like your expression.”

“Then I’ll save you the trouble of looking at it.”

Laura stormed out, pushing past Carmilla as she left.

“Shit, Laura.” Carmilla called after her. She looked at Lafontaine and Perry, still at the table, and called back to them as she left. “I’m sorry about that. I missed you guys. I’m sorry.” She caught up to Laura, marching down the road away from the house. “Hollis, wait. Stop.” Laura didn’t, and Carmilla jogged to catch up with her. She grabbed her arm, and Laura wrenched herself away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Carmilla backed off, hands held up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“I know.” Carmilla said sincerely. “I’m sorry. I got defensive.”

“When were you happy?”

Carmilla frowned. “What?”

“You said you were happy here sometimes. When was that?”

“Why are you asking me this now?”

“Answer the question.”

“Whenever I was with you.”

Laura closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “You can’t say things like that,” she said quietly.

“You wanted to truth.”

Laura snorted.

“You knew I’d say that.” Carmilla said with a small smile.

“It’s a very you answer.”

“I really am sorry.”

“Me too.”

“This truce is going well.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“I can’t tell you. I will, I promise, but I can’t. Not now.”

Laura looked at her, seeing how earnest her eyes were, begging her to understand. Carmilla had always had an undercurrent of sadness to her, a darkness that Laura had longed to make brighter, and it seemed time hadn’t changed that. If anything the sadness was more pressing, and Carmilla made more effort to try and tame it.

“Okay,” she said finally.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“Still thinking about those stuffed peppers?”

Laura smiled and nodded. They were about to walk when Carmilla’s phone rang again. She looked to Laura in a small panic.

“It’s okay,” Laura said finally. “I’ll meet you there.” She was stopped from walking away by Carmilla touching her arm.

“Laura.”

“Honestly. It’s okay. Answer it.”

Carmilla searched her eyes, but she looked sincere. She nodded her gratefulness.

“Hello,” she answered once Laura was out of earshot, still watching her walk away.

“Karnstein. I rang earlier but something came up.”

“Yeah. Is everything okay?” Carmilla’s voice was calm but her heart was racing.

“You asked for an update on Lawrence’s condition if anything came up. She woke earlier today, very briefly, but it’s a promising start.”

The rushing in Carmilla’s ears settled slightly. “She woke up?” she asked, not daring hope.

“Briefly,” the nurse assured her, “but this is good news.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

“You’re the one paying me.”

After hanging up on the nurse, Carmilla allowed herself to smile.

//

An urgent tapping on her shoulder made Carmilla pause mid conversation with Will. Laura loomed over her, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Did you get it?”

“Syphilis?”

“I know you got it. I got mine.”

“Are we still talking about syphilis?”

“Stop trying to be funny. Your math results. Donaldson gave them out. What did you get?”

“Oh that.” Carmilla faced Will again, “I haven’t looked yet.”

“She’s afraid.”

“Shut it, William. I haven’t got round to it.”

“Because she’s afraid.”

“Will, I swear.”

Laura stuck her hand out, making Carmilla jump. “I’ll look at them if you won’t.”

“I’ll get round to it.”

“When she’s not afraid.”

“You sleep in the room next to mine, remember that.”

Laura’s hand was still outstretched and she wiggled her fingers. “If you don’t care you won’t mind me looking.”

Sensing a challenge, Carmilla handed over the unopened envelope and feigned disinterest. Laura slipped it open and hummed.

“Well.”

Laura glanced at Carmilla. “Well what?”

“How did I do?”

“Admit that you care.”

“Hollis.”

Laura smirked as she returned the paper to the envelope and gave it to Will. He nodded as he read it, wearing the same blank expression Laura did.

“You two are the worst. Fine, I care. Tell me.”

Laura’s arms were suddenly encircling her, pulling her to her feet. “You passed!” she screeched excitedly.

“You got a C,” said Will, ever the realist.

“It’s a pass,” Laura waved a hand, dismissing it, “See, I knew you could do it.”

Carmilla couldn’t help but smile. She’d never once been anything but terrible at math. Now she was almost average.

“Mother will be proud.” Will grinned as Carmilla gave him a look. “Okay, fine, mother will be very close to satisfied.”

“Thank you,” Carmilla said to Laura sincerely. “I mean it.”

“You weren’t easy.”

“She never is.”

“And we still have a lot more work to do.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Well as long as I have you two cheerleaders.”