Work Header

must be love on the brain (that’s got me feeling this way)

Work Text:

Lizzie was absolutely exhausted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. Between her best friend turning into the Tribrid and then shutting off her humanity, said best friend putting her father into some magical coma, hunting her down, and then getting killed by her? She thought becoming a vampire would cure all her problems. That tiredness would go away.


She was so wrong. 


She could hear conversations from across the parking lot they were sitting in and everything she touched felt like too much. Every neuron in her body was firing and she just wanted it to stop. Do vampires even really sleep? Does she even really need it now? She isn’t sure but her eyes are drooping and she can’t really think about the logistics of it anymore. Lizzie needs a bed and she needs one now.


She’s shaken out of her thoughts by the door slamming and Hope getting back in the car, “Did you get the rooms?”


“Yes, Elizabeth, I got the room.”


Lizzie sighed with relief. Finally. Wait, did she just say room ? “I’m sorry, room? Like, singular? Only one?”


“It was the only one they had left.” Hope shrugged.


“You’re a vampire. You didn’t think to, I don’t know, compel them to give us another one?”


“Why does it matter?”


“Because! Because I want to sleep and I’d rather not do it in the same room as the person who just killed me!” The blonde crossed her arms in anger and turned away.


Hope laughed. “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”


Lizzie hates this. Hates that they’re spending all this time together and Hope isn’t even her real self. She has no energy to come up with a witty response so sends Hope the biggest glare she can manage, snatches the key and searches for the right room. 


When she finds it, Hope isn’t far behind. 


Lizzie wastes no time in opening the door and reveling in the feeling of now having somewhere to sleep that isn’t a car. 


Until she realizes that this room only has one bed.


“What the fuck ?”


Hope is standing in the doorway, “What?”


“There’s only one bed!”


“I’m failing to see the problem.”


“The problem is that I would rather sleep in a prison cell than share a bed with the person who killed me!” Lizzie says, her voice an octave higher than normal.


Hope shrugs. “It’s not like you stayed dead.”


“It’s not like you knew I wouldn’t.”


“Hm, true.”


Rolling her eyes, Lizzie grabs her bag off the floor and starts to walk back to the car.


“Where are you going?” Hope shouts.


“To sleep in the car! And stop yelling at me! I have vamp hearing now and you know it!” Lizzie replies, opening the back door of the car and throwing her bag inside. When she turns to get in, Hope is standing in front of her.


Lizzie doesn’t even flinch. She kind of hates that.


“You don’t need to do that.”


“Do what?”


“Sleep in the car.”


“Did you not hear me before? Is your vamp hearing malfunctioning? I just said I don’t want to sleep with you.”


“It’s for one night. It’s not gonna kill you to sleep in the same bed as me.”


Lizzie scoffs.


“Okay, okay. Poor choice of words. Just come back to the room.”


“I’m still not sharing the bed with you. You can sleep on the couch. It’s not like you care either way, right? No humanity and everything?”


Hope agrees, “Right. Sure. Can we go now?”


“Why are you so eager to be alone with me?”


“I’m not!”


“Hope Andrea Mikaelson is that emotion I detect in your voice?”


The Tribrid lets out a fake laugh, dragging Lizzie back to the room. “Oh yeah, sure. If being annoyed by you is an emotion.”


“Well, technically—” 


“Just get in the fucking room, Lizzie!”


Lizzie smiles.


It’s been a few hours since the blonde fell asleep, exhaustion taking over pretty quickly. But Lizzie should’ve known better than to think she wouldn’t have nightmares about everything that’s been going on. 


Everything that’s happened to her. 


She twitches on the shitty motel mattress, gasping for breath in between short bursts of shouting “No! Stop it, no!” Hope is killing her in every possible way her mind can conjure up. She hasn’t had her neck snapped yet, her sick mind probably saving the best for last. 


Lizzie is back in that basement again, confessing her love for her best friend, thinking she was the one to get Hope to turn her humanity back on. Only to realize she was being played. It was all an act. She’s stuttering over her words and trying to get Hope to do anything but kill her. It’s no use. She’s dead, again. As soon as her neck is snapped and her body hits the floor, she wakes up.


She’s gasping for air, one hand on her chest and the other tightly holding the scratchy blanket that comes with the motel room. When she’s calmed down enough, she reaches for the lamp on the bedside table and switches it on. 




Hope is sitting on the couch, hands folded in her lap, staring at her.


Lizzie stares back. 


It’s only been about a minute and she can’t continue. Thinks if she looks at her any longer she might vomit. So, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 


Inhaling. Four seconds. Exhale. Seven seconds.


Her mom taught her to do this during overwhelming situations – and there was nothing more overwhelming than being in the same room as your best friend slash crush slash the person who killed you without a second thought. 


Lizzie hates that she’s all of those things to her. How cruel is the universe to have her fall in love with a monster?


Before she can stop herself, she’s pushing back the covers and asking Hope to join her. 


The brunettes eyes widen ever so slightly, replying softly. “I thought you didn’t want to share a bed with the person who killed you.”


And yeah, well. She has a point. “I know. But if I can survive being killed by you, I can survive sharing a bed with you too. Unfortunately, I don’t hate you as much as I probably should.”


Hope is up in a flash, donning a shorts and t-shirt set she compelled from a convenience store clerk. The shorts are covered in baby ducks and Lizzie has to hide her grin when she sees The Almighty Tribrid in them.


Hope is under the covers now, the two vampires facing each other. “You should. Hate me, I mean. It’d be a lot easier for you if you did.”


Lizzie closes her eyes and waits a beat before replying. “I don’t want easy.”