Hello lovely ladies and gents. I've started making my own theories about what the big secrets are on Stitchers, and though they're probably not right, I think there's enough content to warrant a fanfiction. So this will pretty much be AU past Stitchers Season 1 Episode 7 where Kirsten pretty much just straight up shot Liam down. Camsten and Camus all the diggy damn way! Enjoy….

Disclaimer: I obviously own none of the characters and junk.

Side note… I've never written a dream sequence before so bear with me.

Chapter 1: It Was Only Just A Dream

"There's nothing there, Kirsten." Ed said as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

She wanted to say thank you, even wrap her arms around him, but she didn't.

Kissing her goodnight, Ed turned away from her, slowly stepping toward the door.

Suddenly music was blaring in her ears, all spectrums of light blurring her visions. The monsters, they were there; slender white fingers reaching over the bed, keeping her there.

"Ed!" she screamed, "Turn around! Turn around!"

She tried to move her head away from the black eyes staring at her. Something was restraining her, forcing her to look straight ahead. Another flash of light, a crack of the bass, and the white fingers were gone. Wires and tubes were everywhere. The music was no longer a dubstep, just a frantic heartbeat. The strobe lights pulsed in synchronization.

"Kirsten! Derek, we can't do this anymore! She can't take it!"

"It's her only chance, Jac!"

Headlights were speeding past her window. It was mercifully quite, save the soft murmuring coming from the driver's seat.

"It's going to be okay." the voice was sad and raw, "I'm so sorry, Krissy. It's okay. We're going to be- "

They were spinning, sirens were howling, the glass was biting at her skin.

"Wake up, Krissy."

Curly fur tickled her arm. Lips pressed against her temple.

"Wake up, Krissy."

The voice was drifting farther away, leaving her.

"Turn around." she begged, "turn around."

"Krissy?"

Everything began to shake.

"Turn around."

"Kirsten!"

Camille was leaning over her, a hand on her shoulder. Her face was firmly creased with concern.

Damp hair clung to Kirsten's face, sweat beading down her jawline.

"What?" she panted, "Why are you in my room?"

The brunette removed her hand but the worry didn't leave her eyes.

"I'm in your room because you didn't shut off your alarm clock and when I came in you were a writhing, crying mess."

Kirsten would have reprimanded herself for being so childish but her head was still reeling. She buried her fists deeper into the rumpled bed sheets, not trusting them to be still.

Alright, Sunshine, the voice in her head smirked, I'll give you a shiny penny if you can slow your breathing down.

Just like she did after every stitch, Kirsten closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Blood coursed through her ears as her heart beat way too fast.

"Kirsten?" Camille's voice was tentative, "Are you okay?"

Why do people always do that?

"Yeah," she forced her eyelids to open, "I'm fine."

Camille and Kirsten both new that wasn't remotely the truth, but the real concern would have been if she admitted to being upset.

"I'm sorry I scared you." the blonde spit out quickly, and she honestly was.

"It's alright," Camille smiled with both forgiveness and comfort, "we all get nightmares, sometimes."

Kirsten tensed at her words but didn't say anything. With one more supportive rub of her shoulder, Camille left her alone in her bedroom. Staring at the doorway, Kirsten unclenched her hands and held them out in front of her. They were trembling like leaves in a storm.

"I don't." she whispered.

0o0o0o0

Normally, Kirsten secretly enjoyed morning car rides to the office with Camille. It was like mindless reality television that was on every day and you didn't need to pay for it. Today, however was not even her definition of normal. Camille's voice was a dull hum in the background. The dubstep still pulsed through her head and if she closed her eyes, neon painted her vision.

It shouldn't have been that big of a deal. Like Camille said, everyone got nightmares. But she didn't. Even when she had been a little girl, clutching onto her covers for dear life in fear of what lay beneath her bed, the feeling hadn't carried over into her unconscious mind.

She understood that stitching had an effect on her; not just the residual emotions, but it was changing her long term, as well. Still, she'd thought her temporal dysplasia made it virtually impossible for her to experience dreams.

"And then I ingested over twenty five grams of crack-cocaine." the conversation she was supposed to be a part of was finally registering, "No lie. I didn't even switch nostrils."

Turning slowly, Kirsten offered her a scrutinizing expression.

"Just seeing if you were paying attention." she shrugged.

Kirsten shook her head, "Sorry, you're addiction story deserves my full attention."

"Well, they say the key to sobriety is a system of loving friends and family members who will support and listen to you."

The pair shared a brief, cartoonish look.

"If that's true," Kirsten sassed, "then you're probably better off just not starting in the first place."

Camille chuckled before nodding in agreement and picking up her speed.

0o0o0o0

May Lin greeted them on their way into the restaurant and winked playfully as they passed through the EMPLOYEES ONLY area. Kirsten slammed the button much harder than she had intended to, jolting Camille.

"Easy there," she said putting up her hands defensively, "that poor little button hasn't done a thing to you."

Before she could remind her friend that buttons were inanimate objects, the metal doors crawled open with a ding.

They stepped inside and pressed for descent when Kirsten's eyes locked on the overhead lights. Suddenly she was in another place, a small room with blue walls and white tile floors. The harsh light from above cast her skin in a cadaverous image.

"Wake up, Krissy."

Ding. Camille strutted out of the elevator before the doors were finished opening. Kirsten blinked a few times, reassuring herself about where she was, and followed her.

Linus swiveled in his desk chair and met them with a toothy grin.

"Morning, Spice Girls." he said.

"Morning, Slum Dog Millionaire." Camille countered.

His grin fell into a pout which she took as a victory. Kirsten came up beside her, shoulders stiff and jaw clenched.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" he stammered, "Rough night?"

Before she could avoid his question, Camille flung her arm around her and said, "Dearest Kirsten had a bad dream last night."

"Who had what?" Cameron materialized behind the desk.

"Kirsten had a bad dream." Linus stated bluntly.

"What?" his brows furrowed, turning to her.

Kirsten was now acutely aware of the six wide eyes boring into her. Desperately fighting against the heat rushing to her cheeks, Kirsten stood straighter and fixed her face into a scowl.

"It's not important." she deadpanned, pushing passed the group toward the meeting room.

She wouldn't be able to hold her ground against Cameron's extensive questioning, she knew that. She just wanted to push it off for now.

Dropping her messenger bag onto the floor, her body practically collapsed into the arm chair. Rubbing her temples, her gaze met with her reflection in the glass table. Linus had the right to be surprised. She looked like something out of Michael Jackson's Thriller; purple half-moons hanging low beneath her eyes.

Exhaling, Kirsten leaned her head against the back of the chair. Camille had good intentions- most of the time- but she knew how much she detested talking about herself. She also knew how Cameron could overreact. Why worry him when she didn't need to?

"Penny for your thoughts, Meriwether?" she heard him take the chair beside her.

Sighing deeply, she opened her eyes and spun around to face him directly. He was leaning forward on his elbows, peridot eyes zeroed in on hers.

"Is a penny all they're worth to you?" she asked dismissively.

She watched him bite the inside of his cheek, a quirk she'd learned he performed while deep in contemplation.

"We promised, remember?" he coaxed gently, "You said you would tell me when something made you feel uncomfortable."

"I know, and I do." she insisted, "This wasn't related to a stitch… or at least I don't think it was. Anyway, it isn't your problem."

"You're my problem, Stretch." her face softened ever so slightly at the name, "Talk to me, please."

Even after countless hours of analyzation and theorizing, Kirsten couldn't understand Cameron's unconditional desire to help her. She'd thought over every debate, every glance, every action, and still couldn't use logic to explain any of it. It had become a part of Cameron's identity, and while she truly did appreciate it, she couldn't help but feel like she didn't deserve it.

Accepting defeat, she rested her head on her one palm and relayed to him what Camille had woken her up from that morning. She felt unbelievably foolish during most of it, talking about monsters with long white fingers and menacing strobe lights, but his expression didn't show any judgement. In fact, it was nearly the opposite. He was staring at her so intensely it was like he was holding onto every word she was saying as some precious thing.

She noted how his muscles tensed when she mentioned the wires and tube constricting her and the panicked beating of the heart monitor. His hands tightened into fists when she told about the voice getting farther and farther away, abandoning her.

Finishing in a huff Kirsten dropped her gaze to the floor while Cameron carefully processed the information. When she looked back at him, he was rubbing his bottom lip methodically with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

"That sounds like a doozy." he offered lamely.

Kirsten shook her head. Cameron's expression shifted from an empathetic put to the anxious look a child wears when telling their parents they failed a test.

"I'm sure it was much worse than I can imagine," he assured her, "but it's okay, it was just a nightmare."

Something in Kirsten snapped and she leaned forward in her chair, startling him.

"I know it was just a nightmare, Dr. Phil," she hissed, "but for someone who had never had one, it was a little jarring."

The brunet gaped at her, opening and closing his mouth like a toad. Her outburst left Kirsten feeling tired and even more irritable and she slumped back into her chair. After a few moments of silence, Cameron spoke.

"That was your first nightmare?" he said in disbelief.

"That was the first dream I've had since," Kirsten paused as she searched her brain for an answer, "before I can remember."

Cameron nodded as if he understood, but the bewilderment in his eyes told a different story.

The blonde sighed and continued, "I thought temporal dysplasia prevented me from dreaming. Do you think the stitching process could have somehow altered that?"

"I don't know." Cameron shrugged, "It's possible now that you're feeling a larger variety of emotions that your brain is having to go through processes that it hasn't ever needed before, and that in turn is causing you to experience dreaming for the first time."

Kirsten narrowed her eyes, feeling the unfinished statement hanging off of his tongue.

"Or?" she slurred.

"Or they aren't just dreams." his voice suddenly sounded reserved, "They're memories from before your accident."

She raised her eyebrow at him, "Monsters and dubstep?"

"Not that, obviously." he said rolling his eyes, "I mean the conversations you heard. You even said yourself that the car crash really happened."

Kirsten nodded. The thought had occurred to her, as well, but now with Cameron's confirmation, she couldn't ignore it. After she wasn't sure how long, she realized that she'd spaced out and raised her eyes only to find him staring at her. It was more like studying her, as if she were a complicated equation he'd been set with the challenge of solving. No one had ever given her that much thought; no one had tried to solve her. Even Liam had just seemed to accept that he couldn't understand her and left it at that.

"Thank you." she murmured, smiling weakly.

When he gave her a perplexed look she wanted to add 'for caring about me'.

Instead she was mute until he echoed, "Thank you."

She mirrored his expression and he continued, "For your thoughts."

The held each other's eyes for what Kirsten could call a life time before Maggie walked in followed by their co-workers.

Something about the woman's gait struck Kirsten. On a typical day- which this day had already proven it was not- she commanded very space she was in with ice cold will power and resolve. Now she looked cautious, maybe even slightly pained.

"What's up?" Linus said trying to sound up beat.

Maggie's face didn't soften. Instead, her stone gaze locked with Kirsten's. She wasn't sure what was passing between them, but she could feeling something, almost like a transfer of energy. However, instead of filling her with life, Kirsten felt detached and hopeless. She shivered.

"Megan Werth." she said pulling up a photo, "Found dead outside of her apartment building early this morning."

Kirsten felt like she'd been punched, the air leaving her lungs in a violent gust. Her mind processed things in the matter of an instant. It was impossible to surprise her; but even after she identified the woman and what her picture meant, she couldn't stop the dozens of questions that were racing through her mind.

Cameron turned around when he felt her breath on the back of his head. Her eyes were unfocussed and her mouth hung slightly agape.

"Kirsten?" his chest tightened, "What's wrong."

The blonde swallowed, feeling the gazes of everyone on her and hating it.

"That's Megan." she breathed, "That's Ed's sister."

Say what?! Yeah, I'm crazy excited about this so I hope you'll hang on for the ride. Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, it would make my day if you would kindly fav, follow, and/or comment. Chapter two will be up in due time, but until then, I'm Rosie and I'll see you next time!