Vulnerable

A/N::: Well, you know how I enjoy writing song-fics XD

SONG- Vulnerable by Secondhand Serenade

Disclaimer::: I don't own the series, or the song.

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Cammie p.o.v

I wring my hands nervously, wondering what was so important that I have to miss half of P&E. possibilities swim in my head, and I find myself practically running to my moms' office. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and fix my hair, making myself look more presentable. But as I reach a five foot radius of her office, and a voice says "Come in," I know something up. Because the voice is not my mothers. It is a masculine, familiar voice. A voice that I heard all summer, pushing me past my limits to run more, notice more, see more. And when I open the door, I'm not surprised.

"I sent for you three minutes and twenty-five seconds ago," he says, slightly annoyed. Joe Solomon. He's sprawled across the couch, one legging hanging off casually. And I can't help but think I've walked into a photo shoot, and would totally not be surprised if some model walked out of the bathroom, make-up and all. "Could you walk any slower?"

"I practically ran the whole way. Now what's so bug that I had to run a mile and half in three minutes and twenty-five seconds?" I throw myself on the couch across from him. When you spend the summer with your aunt and her boyfriend who just so happens to be your CoveOp teacher, you learn to adapt to their habits, needs, and pranks (when you're half asleep, the last thing you expect is for them to pop out and make you run until you collapse).

"Hey, I'm doing you a favor. I don't have to let him see you, you know." His cockiness and annoyance was drowned out by his words. Him? See me? Holy crude.

"You mean… Zach?" He suddenly sits up gracefully without breaking eye contact, which makes me nervous. Which makes me run my mouth. "You mean Zach, don't you? Where is he? I haven't seen him in forever! How'd he get here? How do you know? How did-"

"That's enough questions, Cameron." I'm surprised (not a good thing) when my mom's black leather chair spins around. With her in it. "It's enough that I'm letting you see a boy who, by the way, will not give up on trying to speak to you." She breaks out in a weak smile, and I'm half expecting someone to jump out and say, "You just got spy punked!" I wait, but no one jumps out.

My voice is quiet as I ask, "Why?" But they both shrug.

"All I know," Solomon says, "is that this kid will stop at nothing just to speak to you. Coded messages, frequent midnight visits, and now, breaking into our school. I said we should just lock him up, but your mother argued we should allow him one visit." So I wasn't hallucinating when I thought I saw him by my window! I thought I was going crazy.

"So," my moms' strong voice broke through my thoughts. "We allowed him a fifteen minute visit. But you are to tell no one who is incapable of keeping the information a secret."

"Even my closest friends?" I regret the instant I say it.

"Are they incapable of such secrecy?" Her icy look chills my bones and gives me goose bumps.

"Okay, I get your point. When do I get to see him?" I could feel my blood pumping through me with something more. Something that'll get me up and running. What'll be the first thing I do when I see him? Smack him silly for not trying harder. I smile at the idea, but it falls quickly at my mothers' narrowed eyes.

"Joe and I will decide that, young lady. Joe?" Her voice is strict, with something under it. Like she's not really trying. But by the carefree way he shrugs and says "Now's good" I know they set it up. They're watching to see how I react to the arrival of my stalker.

"Alright." She nods. "You may see him now. But-" she says, stopping me as I stand. "Nothing inappropriate. We will be watching." I feel my face pale at the thought, but mange a nod.

"You'll need these." Solomon throws me a key, which I catch. I start walking out when he says, "Ehem." I turn back. "Unless you're planning to wander around for him, you'll be needing directions." I flush but sigh. Damn Solomon and his spyness.

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"You'll pass a big oak tree. Turn north and walk for forty-eight seconds. Then turn right. You'll probably hit it before you see it."

I replayed his directions in my head, ignoring the last comment. Who knew Joe Solomon was a woodsy guy? The one in D.C, and now this one. He likes being secluded, that's for sure.

46, 47, 48… I turn and head north while avoiding conveniently placed branches and homicidal vines. My dad wasn't kidding about that one time he said it was Man vs. Nature when he had to check out for a secret base in the Galapagos Islands. It's always Man vs. Nature.

And that's when I ran into it. Literally.

"Ow!" I walked headlong into it, and as for being distracted? Well, the lump on my forehead was punishment.

I stuck the key in and opened the door without making any noise (really easy if you know how to apply enough pressure so the key won't click) and looked around; I'd walked into a cozy-looking living room with black leather couches and glass coffee table. To the far right corner, I caught a glimpse of a kitchen, which was spotless and, surprise surprise, all wooded. There was a closed door, and a hallway. Closet and the way to Solomon's room. I suddenly got nervous, afraid he'd already left. I heard my heart thumping loudly in my chest. With each step, new questions popped into my head. What'll I say? What'll he look like? Will he recognize me? Will he tell me it's over before it began? Or that it's just begun? What-

My questions were cut short as I hear a strum of strings. It was hesitant, but then the strings were plucked at a slow pace expertly. My breath caught in my throat as I passed a closed door, and approached the last one on the right. It was left ajar, and I could glimpse a mirror on a drawer in the corner that reflected an image of a small twin bed that had big sliding glass doors next to it for a quick getaway. And a figure was sitting there, cradling a guitar and staring out at a serene-looking pond, and you just know it's full of life, as well as the trees surrounding it.

The figure had wavy brown hair. He wore a plain white t-shirt, and what looked like black jeans. He was tall, but his gracefulness was obvious in the way he held himself and how he didn't glance at his hands as he played. And his voice. His voice, when he started was a bit hesitant, but it grew strong, and it made me want to close my eyes and just float around, listening to his voice over and over.

Share with me the blankets that you're wrapped in
because it's cold outside cold outside

Its cold outside

I had to force myself to breathe. I grasp the doorframe hard to keep myself on my feet. His voice wanted to pull me down. It made me want to collapse. But he kept singing.

Share with me the secrets that you kept in
because it's cold inside cold inside

Its cold inside

I watched him through the crack of the door. He was more focused on his singing, his voice gaining strength and momentum.

And your slowly shaking finger tips
Show that you're scared like me so
let's pretend we're alone

Does he know I'm here? I wouldn't be really surprised. But… he's so focused. There's no way he could've heard me. Or seen me, for that matter.

And I know you may be scared
and I know were unprepared
but I don't care

he stood up and walked up to the glass doors. He kept singing, but I focused on his eyes. His sad, sorrow-filled eyes that had a faraway look. But behind them, if you looked closely, you could see some hope. Some hope of happiness? Hope of freedom? I couldn't pinpoint it exactly. All I knew was that he was hoping for something.

I was born to tell you I love you
isn't that a song already
I get a B in originality

I smiled. I wouldn't really say that telling someone "I love you" would really count as a song. But it is the thought that counts, right?

And it's true I can't go on without you
your smile makes me see clearer
if you could only see in the mirror what I see

He was now at the foot of the bed and staring straight into the mirror. Our eyes locked. And I knew he'd already seen me. I bet he knew I was there all along, and wanted to serenade me. So I wasn't surprised.

I pushed open the door and took two steps in. The music was stronger, the guitar and his voice powerful. When he just played the notes for a second, I blurted "I'm sorry if this is a bad time. I'll-" he shook his head and smiled weakly, making me stop. His eyes were gleaming brightly. And he probably knew I would blurt something like that. He was enjoying this.

Slow down girl you're not going anywhere
just wait around and see
maybe I am much more you never know what lies ahead
I promise I can be anyone I can be anything

It's funny how sometimes you just start crying, and you don't even know it. You don't realize the tears running down your cheek in a mad dash. Tears of joy, of course. I was always soft-hearted. I didn't know how I felt about this boy. But know I do.

Just because you were hurt doesn't mean you shouldn't bleed
I can be anyone anything I promise I can be what you need

He held the last note, raising his voice, and I choked out a laugh. He was probably the craziest guy I knew to do something as crazy as serenading a girl, just to show his love.

And then his voice started dwindling down, going softer and quieter as he took slow steps towards me until I could feel the vibration of the strings on my stomach, shaking my already trembling body.

Tell me tell me
what makes you think that you are invincible
I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure
please don't tell me that I am the only one that's vulnerable
impossible

He strummed the guitar one last time and set it down on the bed. We stood in silence, until he broke it by grinning and saying "What? No hug?" I wanted to wait, to show I had self-control.

But I could hardly wait 3.2 seconds before tackling him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

He felt so familiar, his hard stomach, and strong arms. Hell, he ever smelled the same, like clean detergent, and freshly ironed clothes… Wait. He wasn't—this wasn't—Oh my gosh.

I stumbled back hard, my hand to my mouth. No, I thought, guilt and nausea overwhelming me. I can't believe… after all this… how could I' Tears were streaming down me check, but for a different reason.

"Cam? What's the matter?" How could I be so stupid! They didn't even sound the same! His voice didn't fit who I saw—or who I thought I saw. Because this boy in front of me had green eyes, not blue.

He took a step towards me, but I backed up into the wall away from him, my right hand already fumbling for the knob. "Don't," I whisper. I couldn't bear to hurt him anymore than I have.

"What's wrong, Cammie?" His voice was wounded, and it hurt my heart even more.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, as tears blur my vision and my hand touches a cold brass knob. "I'm so sorry… Zach. I… I can't do this right now. I'm sorry." And I think he understood. I think he saw what I did as I blinked away the tears to see him one more time. His face held betrayal. And I knew for sure he saw my mistake, because when I ran out, he didn't call after me. He didn't run after me. He stood there, and watched me run away from him.

I finally break down after running for twenty minutes in a small circular clearing. I sat against the closest tree, bawling my eyes out at me harsh betrayal. Because the second we hugged, I realized who he really was. It all flooded through me all at once—this was Zach. He'd been trying to contact me. I'd made a horrible mistake. I… I thought he was Josh.

I hurt him. Badly. And I couldn't—wouldn't—forgive myself. Because the truth is, I love Zach. I do. But… Josh was the one I saw singing. Josh was the one I saw in the mirror.

But it was Zach. Zach was singing. Zach was playing. And now, Zach was hurting. All because of me. I'd forgotten what Solomon and my mom told me. The second I saw the figure, I thought Josh. Josh was here, and confessing his love to me. The voice was so hypnotizing, I forgot it all. For a second, I forgot I was even a spy. The song made me feel normal. And Josh did that. He made me feel mundane and ordinary. Everything I wasn't.

And now I'd hurt the only boy who I could truly love. The only one that would always be there for me, because he knew me. I didn't have to hide anything, or make up pets or dead family. I didn't have to pretend to be anybody. I could talk to him about my PhD homework. Or just talk about the stars.

I slumped my head and held it in my hands, cursing to myself in different languages. I was lost. Not just mentally, but physically. Stop crying I scold myself. Get up. Freshen up. Find a way out. I did what I told myself, feeling only numbness. The tears still fell. At least, I thought they did, until I realized it started drizzling. Not enough to soak me, but enough to weigh me down.

So I start jogging, and then running, because I enjoyed running. It calmed me. Even if it didn't dilute my mind of everything, it made me forget everything temporarily. And it was enough to keep me going.

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A/N::: Good? Bad? Hopefully it had the effect I'm hoping for. So review :D

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