Cameron

I feel like I should be more alarmed but really I just feel tired.

"Hello?" I call, shifting under the blankets and trying to get a good look at whoever has broken into my room. It is pointless really. It is too dark and I am just too blind.

"It's me." A voice whispers, opening and closing a few drawers. My heart rate speeds up. If it had been anyone else I would have reprimanded them for just assuming I would know who it was but I do know.

"What are you doing here, Kirsten?" I mumble, fighting a yawn. She doesn't answer, instead she simply peels back the covers and climbs into bed next to me.

"Can I just stay here?" She asks even though she is already making herself comfortable, cuddling against my side. I wrap my arm around her hesitantly so she could situate herself against my chest like she had on Halloween.

"I mean I guess." I reason, trying hard not to flinch in surprise when she starts rubbing her hand over my heart. "Do you want to talk?" She shakes her head against my chest.

"Just…sleep." She sighs, sounding relieved.


I wake the next morning to an insistent buzzing sound. I sneak a quick peak down at Kirsten and am glad she can't see the smile on my face. I know I look too dopey for my own good. I reach towards the nightstand table and find the phone.

"Hello?" I answer groggily.

"There you are." Maggie's annoyed voice replies, but I can hear a bit of relief in it as well. "I've been trying to reach you for the past hour. We have a new sample."

"Can't we have a few more minutes." I groan, not only am I not ready to let go of Kirsten, I'm just not ready to get up and start the day.

"We?" Maggie echoes.

"I…can't I have a few more minutes." I correct, jamming the phone between my ear and shoulder and fumbling for my glasses. Once they are on my face, I check the clock. "Maggie! It's only 7:30."

"Unfortunately, murder doesn't run on your sleep schedule." She responds dryly. "Now you wouldn't happen to know where our blonde cat lady is, do you? Camille says she can't seem to locate her."

"Oh…uh…well I'm sure I can find her." I lament, wondering if Maggie really knows that Kirsten is pressed up against my side at that very moment.

"Good." She responds. "I'll see you both soon." Maggie never says goodbye on a phone call. Every time I had been on the phone with her, I was always left holding the phone after she had already hung up.

"Kirsten." I mumble, running my hand up and down her arm. "You've got to get up, we have a case."

"Five more minutes." She grumbles, burying her face against my neck.

"Okay, it's been five minutes." I try. She pulls back from me, propping her chin up against my chest so that she can glare at me.

"You're totally lying." She accuses.

"Well I guess you'll never know." I smile. She rolls away from me with a huff. "Oh, come on, Princess. I'll make you breakfast." I get out of bed, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants over my boxers and a t-shit. I head towards the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out ingredients for omelets.

"I haven't been completely honest with you." Kirsten says, startling me. I spin around, surprised that she's already out of bed and has followed me in here. All she's wearing is one of my t-shirts and I have to make a conscious effort to not stare at her long legs.

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning my attention away from her and her legs, cracking eggs into a mixing bowl.

"I just…you died…" She starts. I stop my task immediately and turn back around to face her.

It has been three weeks since I died and Kirsten has made it very clear that she doesn't want to talk about it. At all. I had woken up only hours after my heart had stopped and, by all medical definition, had been fine. Ayo had kept me under strict observation for three days but had finally deemed me well enough to go back to work and back to my apartment. During those three days, Kirsten had barely left my side but she hadn't exactly been overly friendly. In fact, she had barely spoken to me. She had refused to discuss the fact that I had died or anything she had seen in my mind. And I had to let it go because I still wanted, more than anything, to be in her life.

"Stretch…I'm sorry, I know-"

"No, I…it just hurts." Kirsten explains, looking like she is fighting for the correct words to describe what she is feeling.

"What hurts?" I step away from the counter completely and takes a few steps closer to her.

"I…well…" She trails off, fidgeting with the hem of the t-shirt. "I told you that I've been able to feel my emotions better since I stitched into you. Well not better…it's just like the volume is turned up on them and…there's some that I don't understand or that I can't identify…" She trails off. "I'm sorry, this is dumb, I'm going to go get dressed." Kirsten spins around and starts to make her way back to the bedroom.

"Woah, woah." I call, catching up and grabbing her hand, turning her around to face me. "It's not dumb. I told you I wanted you to talk through the emotions you feel after stitching so that I can help. Just because I was the sample doesn't mean that you shouldn't talk to me. Let me help you Kirsten. All I've wanted these past three weeks is to help."

"It hurts to be around you." She blurts and looks like she instantly regrets it. I try to process what that means but I know I look crushed.

"Oh…I…" I trail off, starting to move away from her.

"No!" She holds a tight grip on my hand when I try to pull it away and instead laces our fingers together. "You…died, Cameron. And I was scared and panicked and screaming. God, Cameron, I was screaming." She strokes my hand with her thumb absentmindedly. "I went back and watched the tape from that day in the lab. I didn't even realize I was screaming but everyone else could hear me. Ayo had to sedate me to get me to stop. But, I look at you sometimes and it just hurts to be around you because I remember those feelings of being panicked and scared and I can hear myself screaming on that tape and I just don't want anything to happen to you."

I don't know what to say but I know I hate myself.

"You were dead for five minutes and, for someone with temporal dysplasia, that is a lifetime. I didn't like how the world felt without you in it and sometimes when I see you, it feels like you're dead and I'm screaming and everyone else can hear it but me."

"I'm so sorry." I mutter.

"It's not…all the time." She explains slowly. "I feel warm and happy around you but I feel sad too and I don't know how to fix it."

"I don't…do you want me to never see or talk to you again?" I don't think I can do it but if it is what she wants…

"No!" She gasps pulling herself closer to me and our joined hands between us. "Just because it hurts doesn't mean I don't want to be near you. I have all these emotions and a lot of them are new to me but you're still the person who knows me best and the person I want to see everyday."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Kirsten. You can't just tell me it hurts to look at me and be near me and expect me to just make you breakfast and go to work with you like nothing happened."

"I can't help what I'm feeling." She snaps, but she doesn't look angry. "And I didn't say it hurt to be near you, this helps actually."

"This?"

"Being close to you helps. Hearing your heartbeat…holding your hand…" Kirsten trails off, glancing up at me. "I know you're alright, okay? I know you're here and alive but it hurt watching you die and it hasn't gone away. I can still feel it."

"O-okay." I stutter in surprise at her confession. "Well you can talk to me about this. You don't have to give me the cold shoulder. I want to help. And…" I swallow uncomfortably. "…well, you can listen to my heartbeat or hold my hand whenever you want."

"Yeah?" Kirsten questions, squeezing my hand a little tighter. "And can I have extra cheese in my omelet?" I let out a breath I had been holding.

"Sure." I give her a real smile and let her drop my hand to head back to the bedroom. A few minutes later she is back in the jeans and tank top she must have worn to my place earlier. She leans her head passively against my bare arm and glances up at me while I flip her omelette in the pan.

"I used your toothbrush, I hope you don't mind." She informs me.

"Of course you did." I sigh, pulling away from her to grab a plate to put her omelette on.

"Is there extra cheese in that?" She asks suspiciously.

"Yes, Kirsten."


We drive in silence on the way to the lab and I can never tell if that's normal with Kirsten or not. She zones out so often while in the car that it's hard to tell if she doesn't want to speak to you or if she doesn't realize we've been driving for almost fifteen minutes in silence. I pull into the parking garage across of the Chinese restaurant and park the car in my usual spot.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you with what I said." Kirsten says as we climb out of the car.

"I know you weren't." I promise her and I know I mean that. Kirsten wasn't trying to hurt me, she was just trying to do what I always encouraged her to do: explain her feelings. "We're good."

"Okay." She sighs, coming to meet me around the front of the car and grabbing my hand without any hesitation, entwining our fingers together. "Good."

The thing with Kirsten is that she can't just hold my hand and walk next to me. She feels the need to drag me with her and whenever I speed up to try and match her pace, she would too. But she seems more upbeat, as upbeat as Kirsten ever is, than she has in weeks so I decide that if it makes her happy to drag me around like a puppy, I probably should just let her.

"Thank you for showing up." Maggie states as Kirsten drags me into the conference room.

"Well now that Stretch and Whipped have graced us with their presence, I can begin." Camille says cheerfully, her eyes locked on our joined hands. Kirsten rolls her eyes and I focus on not turning red. She pushes her chair back and stands up. "The victim is Lindsey Walsh, twenty-six year old secretary at a fancy law firm downtown to one of the firm's partners. She's been working there for a little over a year. No family in the area, very few friends. She was found stabbed to death in the office early this morning by the cleaning crew. Coincidently, the security cameras were turned off sometime yesterday afternoon."

"The reason I called you all so early is because we think we will only be able to get one stitch out of Miss. Walsh. She's degrading too quickly." Maggie explains.

"Well if she's degrading too quickly then Kirsten shouldn't be stitching-" I start, leaning forward and squeezing her hand from under the table a little.

"We're confident that there will be no risk to Kirsten and that her memories won't collapse for at least a few hours." Maggie assures me. I glance over at Kirsten but she just shrugs.

"I'll go get changed." She states, pulling her hand from mine and walking out of the room, towards the lockers.

"That's really so adorable how nervous you get." Camille says to me. "Would you get that nervous about me, Linus?"

"Of course." He responds quickly. It looks like Linus as said the right thing for once because Camille perks up and smiles happily.

"Aren't they both just so cute?" She asks Maggie.

"Adorable." She responds flatly, "Cameron get your lab ready."


Hope you enjoy this story!