Choices by . mocha . coca . latte.
Backstory: Cammie, Macey, Liz, and Bex, along with Rachel Morgan, have just come back from a major mission- rescuing Cammie's dad. But what happens when a car "accident" occurs and lives have to pay the cost of 20 minute happiness?
February 28, 2009
(AP- Just twelve hours ago there was a full-scale infiltration on US government agencies.) Our security is top-notch. That's the first idea that comes to mind. After all those efforts after 9/11 to keep our country safe, from all-too-revealing airport security scanners to radio frequency identification chips, we, as citizens, would think that that was enough, right? No one considered we would have spies- working against us- in our own homeland, in one of the most secretive agencies, the CIA. Just twelve hours ago, there was a full-scale infiltration on US government agencies, which meant full-scale slaughter, full-scale panic, and full-scale confidentiality leak. Attacks ranged from car accidents and suicide bombers, to murderers and molesters. Not only that, but we lost some of our best spies, such as Rachel Morgan, and believe it or not, teenage spy Rebecca Baxter...
:-:-:-:
"God dammit! I absolutely hate the press!" Cammie fumed, "They're a bunch of nosy, sneaky, lying bastards. Just 'cause the government is too deep in chaos, doesn't mean they can just leak TOP SECRET information out!" she huffed.
"Calm down, Cammie, before you start foaming around the mouth. Besides, since when did you start swearing? I thought that was me," Macey made a weak attempt to joke. It was a sad attempt, considering that Macey was lying down on a hospital bed.
"Macey, Macey, Macey," Cammie shook her head, using her tut-tut voice, "always the naïve one, never really had the superior right to judge. But you do know that Liz is in a coma, and my mom, my newly found dad of twenty minutes, and Bex, are well above our heads right now? Heck, you're being confined to a wheelchair for the rest of your life, and my body is in the type of condition it would be in after suffering a moderately severe stroke. Not to mention my eyesight has been severely damaged, and the doctors tell me I've had memory loss!"
Cammie was still a spy, no matter what, and she noticed Macey, fully lying down on the bed now with her eyes closed, silently listening. There was a long silence.
"You've become... Your sterling self is no longer as lucid as before, like stagnant water shrouding you with filth," Macey quietly said slowly, her real meaning hidden behind layers of figurative speech. "You've never been harsher in your life, and after three weeks, I'm fed up with it."
There was another long period of silence when Macey looked like she was sleeping. Cammie started to leave, her spite getting the best of her. Partly because she didn't want to believe what Macey had just said. She was angry because she sounded so right, yet so innocent and helpless. And partly because it was rare to be able to walk out on someone. She tried to play it to hilt...
"You were right, Cammie, and so was the doctor. You have had memory loss; this is the most revolting and brazen side I have ever encountered, and equally unbelievable that it has any connection whatsoever to the Cammie I knew."
Cammie had stopped right in front of the doorway, but did not dare to turn around. Her cheeks were blushed with fury and her chest throbbed and felt so hollow, it ached. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Macey had just melted all the ice into a puddle at her feet.
"Maybe if you could stop being so selfish and ignorant, you would be able to look around. You hypocritically told me that I'm naïve, but you aren't so much more experienced yourself. If you could just open your eyes for one second and get your ass out of the grave you're digging for yourself, you would know. You'd realize that maybe now is not the time to rant and whine about how bad off you are, or mourn for something you can't change."
By now, Cammie had had the door open for quite some time. She stood, shocked, speechless, angry, and worse of all, hurt. She finally released her hold on the handle, not bothering to be considerate or quiet as the door slammed behind on her back. The one thing running through her mind that moment was: Stop mourning for something you can't change and do what?
She could almost hear Macey telling her, Make choices.
The following morning was a momentous day. Everything would come together today, a coincidence, but hardly. Because this day would be the day Cammie got out the hospital, the day she'd go to the CIA, the day she went to see someone important, the day she went to settle things, the day she would make nearly-life-changing decisions. She would be doing this, all in one day.
After the tête-à-tête with Macey, Cammie had that burning determination to not give Macey anything to chastise her about- it would most likely lead to dissing. As she went to the destination, she battled with herself, as to whether or not she should actually do it. She was already in the hospital, already at her door, so why not do it? Cammie's hand lingered on the handle, both mentally preparing herself, and trying to send a message to her hand- turn the handle, push the door- and her legs- stick one foot forward, step, stick the other forward, step...Cammie was greeted by the sight of Macey sitting up in her bed, staring straight at her. Looks of expectancy, forgiveness, and yet, hardness, were in her eyes, and Cammie found it hard to look back at her. So instead, she stared straight at the floor and slowly brought her eyes up to Macey's. Make choices.
"I'm sorry," Cammie murmured, surprising herself with her ability to apologize so easily. "I was so crabby and bitchy-"
"Its okay, Cam. At least you sound a lot more like Cammie today," Macey gave a small smile. "I have to apologize, too, for saying all those things to you. But I guess it worked, so that's all good, isn't it?" Cammie nodded fervently. A look crossed Macey's face, and Cammie gave a small grin. She stepped forward, and they embraced in a tight hug.
"Thank you," whispered Cammie. Because strangers push you aside roughly, and friends stab you in the back. But only best friends would slit your throat with a dull knife.
:-:-:-:
Cammie found her legs leading her to the place, like she was a robot and had no control over what she was doing. She was too busy going over what had happened with Macey just a few minutes ago.
She was staring straight ahead, so absentmindedly that she abruptly came to a stop as she realized through her blank mind that she was about to run into a door and completely fail the retina scan. As the door finally slid open, she came face to face with the Director. It was so rare to ever come across the Director during a career with the CIA, that Cammie felt a little unstable.
"Well, Ms. Morgan, I see you are exactly on time for the meeting, as you should be. I was just about to come see if there were any sort of difficulties, especially with the crisis we're in, but I shouldn't have underestimated you," the Director spoke in a kind, yet business-like tone and started walking, a cue that Cammie should walk with him as well.
"Here we are," he pushed open a set of mahogany doors and stepped into the room, the place famously known for having a long, ovular table in the middle that was piled with paper and surrounded by swiveling, leather chairs.
Make choices.
Cammie emerged from the room two hours later, feeling refreshed, anticipating, and a little nervous. She had just agreed to go on a mission.
Just as she was about to walk out, again absentmindedly, she nearly bumped into a familiar figure. She looked around to see someone...
A rush of emotions, thoughts, memories, pictures all came towards her, nearly knocking her over because they were so vivid, they felt like yesterday. She worried about her brain going into overdrive, and she began a battle with her emotions. Hurt, love, trust, loss, longing, anger, over and over again, replayed. They repeated, and they wouldn't stop. She felt like she was going to be flooded, inundated with everything. It was too much to handle and she just couldn't take it. The walls started closing in on her, she couldn't breathe. Her emotions were still battling and repeating, her mind was working way too fast-
She grabbed a hold of the person's arm and dashed out the headquarters-
Joe Solomon. Madame Dabney-She heard the faint, "Cammie? Cammie!" Together they ran-
Josh Abrams, Macey McHenry-They arrived at a secluded place. She had no idea where, but she didn't want to find out. Her instincts, her heart was leading the way. Finally-
Zachary Goode.She dropped her folder, her bag, everything she was holding and she reached to grab a hold of his collar. Of Zach's collar. And she kissed him.
AN: So the quote "Because strangers push you aside roughly, and friends stab you in the back. But only best friends would slit your throat with a dull knife." is not intended to be literally depressing. It actually is a figurative speech and has a meaning behind it. Care to guess?
So this might actually be pretty stupid, but it has been nagging me to write it down, and it is a one-shot. Tell me how it went!
Also, I am currently trying to finish up all my stories because I am no longer really interested in writing them anymore. I've moved on... If you would like to see what I've been working on, please visit the link on my profile. -- its a visual.