AN: This drabble was inspired by the endless flow of gifsets of Laura cradling Carmilla. I just could not help but draw upon it.

Laura can't sleep, she creeps downstairs to see how Carmilla is recovering. Feels ensue.
(Hollstein drabble. The immediate aftermath of 2.20 Damage Control.)

. . .

It's 4:15 in the morning and soon the sun will be coming up above the mountain range, but that doesn't matter. Vordenburg's goons (where did he get those bodybuilder personal security guards?) had been send on their way after an awkward attempt at a search under the pretense of looking for 'vampire traps and lures'. Judging by the fact that they could not find a single secret passage or a trap door, the surprize inspection was a profound failure. That doesn't matter either though, at least not now.

Laura could not sleep. She tossed and turned as her mind refused to quiet down. So now she given up on getting any sleep instead walking out of her room and heading downstairs. She's secretly envious of LaF and JP, who can fall asleep after the midnight's task of preforming amature surgery. Even Perry, despite claiming the opposite, is asleep at this ungodly hour. Laura's the only one awake in the whole silent apartment.

No, that's not quite true. As she creeps down the stairs and across the hall, a blanket thrown around her shoulders like some kind of a ghost, Laura can see the silhouette formed against the glass of the door leading to the foyer. Mattie. No doubt souped up on blood and holding the vigil for whatever dangers she can foresee. Laura's mind flashes back to that moment when some daring force had propelled her to argue – straight up call an ultimatum! – in front of a 1200 year old vampire. A vampire, who could have easily called her bluff. Deep down, or, really, not that deeply at all, Laura was terrified. And she still kinda is, that feeling didn't change just because Mattie had begrudgingly agreed to her terms. Turning in her bed for what seemed like hours, Laura had time to think, and as it so often happened, the smarter revelations had only arrived after the fact. Yeah, Mattie's promise didn't really mean much. She could disregard it at any point. But… What was she supposed to do? Ignore the obvious vampire-on-a-rampage thing? At least this way, there was a chance that no one else is going to be hurt.

The thing is though, thought Laura as she glances back at the familiar shadow lurking behind the door, she was right about Mattie. She was right because no matter what, no matter what happened, the look in her eyes was the same… Still, right now she couldn't care about the vampire menace. Frenemy? Nemesister? No, her mind is preoccupied by one thing only.

Laura inches forward, slips in the furthest room from the entryway. There's nothing in here besides a sofa and some book shelves filled with old, dusty books. All the windows are lacked and the drapes are closed shut. By the looks of it, LaF might have stapled some of the corners just in case. The corner of Laura's mouth twitches a bit, but she can't bring herself to actually smile.

She walks on her tip toes, the long blanket slithering along the floor behind her. The sofa is occupied. After consuming large quantities of blood and some oddly endearing reassurances from Mattie, Carmilla is finally asleep. Laura kneels next to the couch, her eyes skidded along Carmilla's, but got drawn to her face. The blood and dirt had been cleaned off, the ripped during the operation shirt replaced. There are bandages peeking above the hem, stretches of white across her chest and shoulder. She's paler than usual, even though the sickly gray splotches covering her skin are gone by now. She looks better, not like she was when Mattie just bought Carm here. The grayness had been gone the minute she drank the blood left in the fridge (and, Gods, Laura can not be more grateful for her reluctance in throwing away everything that reminded her of Carmilla).

But even so, she looks so drained, so thin and… Laura takes a deep breath to steady her racing heart. She's okay, Laura repeats to herself, she's gonna be fine, yet that doesn't help at all. Carmilla's chest rises and falls at a steady rhythm as she sleeps, but then she groans and moves her head. Laura doesn't realize her hand is moving until it brushes a few stray locks away from Carmilla's face. Her skin is cold and clammy and the way she exhales in her sleep, the way her fogged features relax at Laura's touch, it breaks her heart all over again. Laura inches closer and plops on the floor at the head of the couch, her hands are moving of their own volition extracting Carmilla's hand from under the blanket she's been covered with. Laura clasps the weak palm and brings it to her face. She kisses the knuckles of that pale hand and holds it up to her cheek. Her eyes are closed and she desperately tries to ground herself, keep her resolve from shattering, but the hand in hers is cold and weak and it doesn't close around her fingers. A strangled whimper escapes her throat.

She can't help it as the storm that had been raging in her chest finally bursts out. The tears she had been holding at bay roll down her cheeks. Laura knows she shouldn't do this. They're not even dating anymore. Carmilla broke her heart. And maybe it was her fault, too, but she's not supposed to be here. Laura has no claim, no invitation to sit by this improvised hospital bed. No reason to cry for her.

Except for the fact that she… she loves her.

"You can't do this to me again, Carm…" the whisper is barely auditable.

Laura's not sure if she's saying or thinking this, but it had been growing in her heart from the second she saw her. Saw her hanging on Mattie's shoulder with blood dripping down her chest.

"I thought, I had cried my eyes out after the battle. I thought you were dead! You have any idea how…"

Laura stops her desperate outburst, though she's still whispering. Another sob is is choking her throat and she swallows thickly.

"I know this is all so messed up now… B-but… Just please don't leave me… Yeah, we're not together and maybe it was… No matter what, I can't lose you… I l-lo..."

The rest of that sentence gets swallowed by barely contained sobs. Laura brushes another kiss to the tear stained knuckles and lowers Carmilla hand back onto the blanket. She throws one last look at her pale face, sniffles and bolts out of the room. All Laura wants now is to get back to her room burry her face in the yellow pillow and let it all out. The stress, the heartbreak, the hurt and regret, the mounting guilt, the unfairness of it all. How all of her decisions tend to backfire spectacularly and how this whole supernatural circus IS NOT what college life was supposed to be!

She runs away without a solitary glance back and thus doesn't see the form on the couch shifting. Doesn't see the hand she was holding brought to the other's lips. Doesn't see the pain and longing in the bleary chocolate eyes, still clouded by the ether, blood and lack of energy. Doesn't see those eyes track after her and the moisture gathering in them.

She rushes up the stairs and collapsed into her bed. The hoarse sobs that follow are muffled by the yellow pillow.

As the morning rays of sun peek through the curtains and climb up onto her bed, Laura had finally succumbed to uneasy sleep.