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Disclaimer: I do not own Stitchers

Chapter 4: Eight Floors Up

The silence between them was compensated for by the rush of wind and mundane sounds of L.A. traffic. Today seemed so tragically, painfully average from the surface. Like any other day, Kirsten didn't feel a jolt of nostalgia every time they passed a pedestrian with strawberry curls. She didn't wince when she spotted a low-key music store displaying Megan's favorite classic records, and it was irrelevant that the blue of the afternoon sky was the exact same color as the dress she wore to Kirsten's high school graduation.

She dug her nails deeper into the denim of her jeans. She had said nothing about this to anyone- although she could infer that Cameron already knew- but she truly did like the person she was becoming because of stitching. Life didn't flash in front of her like images on a screen, anymore. Experiences had color, memories had emotions, and people left an impact. Now, however, was one of the times she hated all of it. Without stitching, she wouldn't be dwelling so much over what she couldn't change.

"Krissy?" a chill crackled down her spine and she shuddered.

"What?" her voice was tight as she turned to the driver's seat.

Cameron glanced away from the road briefly to raise a concerned eyebrow at her.

"I said 'Hey, Kirs-Tron, what's your plan if Fisher's already at Megan's place?'"

"Oh," she shook her head, "I thought about that. He doesn't know that Maggie doesn't want us there, and assuming that she hasn't called him back to relay that information, he shouldn't suspect anything."

"But…" he prodded.

"But," Kirsten rolled her eyes in exasperation, "if he won't let us in, we can go back tonight."

Cameron shrugged his shoulders and forced a laugh, "What, you think we can break in?"

"No, Bond, I know where she hid an extra key." he looked relieved for a moment, then she added, "But yes, I think we could climb up the fire escape, if we needed to."

"Unbelievable," he sighed.

0o0o0o0

Thankfully, the parking lot was devoid of police cars and ominous black minivans. As Cameron turned off of the street, Kirsten was careful to keep her focus on the dashboard, glad that she didn't know the exact spot where Megan's body had been found.

"Lucky for us," Cameron noted as his eyes scaled the building, "it doesn't look like we'll be needing the fire escape."

Despite the knot in her stomach, Kirsten smirked, "We could try it just for fun. The apartment's only on the eighth floor."

"Oh yeah," he sounded enthralled, "let's do it."

They got out of the car at the same time. Kirsten swallowed, trying to force the bitter taste out of her mouth. Eight floors. She'd jumped from eight floors up. Tilting her head back, the distance that Megan had plummeted settled in. Her heart began to pound violently inside her chest and the sick feeling of weightlessness- falling- rippled through her body.

Cameron, who was holding the lobby door open for her, noticed her shiver and instinctively placed his hand on the small of her back.

"You alright, Cake Pop?" the playful nickname unable to obscure the concern in his tone.

"Yes," Kirsten answered too quickly, "I just… I feel…"

A professionally dressed woman pushed past them to enter the lobby, making her lodge her words back into her throat. Glancing apprehensively between Cameron and the woman, she latched onto his shirt sleeve and pulled him inside.

"I'm just getting some of the emotions Megan felt as she was falling." Kirsten met his eyes briefly before turning toward the elevators.

"As she was falling?" Cameron echoed, "I can't imagine being able to feel anything other than complete terror."

He regretted the sentence as soon as it left his big mouth. His pupils grew wide and his cheeks flushed with self-loathing.

"I don't mean," he said frantically, "God, I'm sorry. Kirsten, I-"

"It's okay," she pressed her index finger to his lips, "I had the same thought."

For a moment, the only things his mind could focus on were the warmth of her touch and the caramel scent of her skin.

Shaking his himself out of the stupor, he said, "So, what exactly are you feeling?"

A disruptive chime made them both turn their heads. The elevator doors had hardly opened when Kirsten slid inside. Her fingers were shaking as she pressed the button and her chest felt unstable, like it might concave.

"Anxiety," she determined, "but I think that might just be me. I know I'm feeling her regret."

When she saw Cameron pale, she added, "Not about jumping. I don't know if she would regret that or not. There's just… a lot she wished she had told Ed before he died."

There's a lot I wish I had told him, too.

Cameron's expression softened like he could hear her thoughts- and sometimes she wasn't certain he couldn't. The stern woman in the pantsuit glided into the elevator just as the doors began to close and hit the button for the tenth floor. Kirsten didn't pay her any attention, keeping her gaze tied to Cameron's. The green orbs were a lifeline, fastened around her heart and pulling her closer to him.

The brunet almost took a step backward but her pleading eyes made his muscles lose function. They were searching him- boring into him- as she analyzed every line of his face. Shifting on her feet, she moved so that her lips were just beside his ear.

"Just because Megan committed suicide, doesn't mean Ed did." she whispered.

Cameron seized slightly like she'd shocked him.

"What?" he kept his voice light with conscious effort.

"Fisher hasn't officially reopened the case, yet." she explained in an unsteady tone, "Ed's death is still listed as a suicide."

"Okay, but what-"

"Didn't you see everyone's faces at the lab?" her voice turning bitter, "They think they know the truth but they don't."

"Kirsten," he leaned back so that he could see her face, "I don't understand."

She stared at him for a few painstaking moments, brown eyes wide and bottom lip trembling, slightly. It felt like her heart had turned to stone and sunken deep into the pit of her stomach. She should have been used to people not understanding her. While she worked in her computer science program, the only thing she needed anyone- her classmates and professors, included- to understand was that she was smarter than them and they should just stay out of her way.

That wasn't enough, now. She wanted her friends- Cameron at least- to see that she was more than a robotic shell. She needed him to tear down her walls and see the twisted mass of emotions inside. She needed him to guide her- just like he did in a stitch- because without him she was lost in her own mind.

Swallowing hard, she shook her head, "And I don't know how to make you."

His lips parted as his expression visibly dropped. Kirsten sucked in air like she'd been punched. She hated herself, she really did.

The elevator halted as it reached the eighth floor, making the both of them sway. The woman in the corner, who hadn't looked up from her Blackberry the entire ride, didn't flinch.

"I'm sorry," Kirsten breathed, dropping her eyes and turning quickly out of the lift.

Cameron felt the growing distance between them in his chest, crushing his heart tighter and tighter.

My poor, sweet Lost Girl, he thought chasing after her.

Kirsten was storming down the narrow hallway at a demanding pace, movements silent and stiff. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead at floor-length window at the end of the corridor. Cameron's voice buzzed behind her, but all her senses began to fail. Red pulsed at the corners of her vision. She hated herself for not being able to just spin around and throw her arms around him. She hated that she couldn't cry into his shoulder as he made empty promises about how everything was okay. She hated being her-defective-mechanical-unfeeling-self more than anything in the world.

Stopping just short of the window, Kirsten stared first at the sky then at the quiet street below.

Eight floors up, she thought as the weightless feeling took her over.

"Kirsten, please," she felt his hand on her forearm, firm and even a little possessive.

She didn't respond, only shifting her eyes to look at the sky, then back at the ground.

Eight floors up.

"Kirsten," Cameron side-stepped in front of the glass.

Her shoulders were caged by his hands, her face trapped directly beneath his livid gaze. It was as if he'd cut a tether, all of her thoughts freed from whatever had overcome them. She blinked feverishly and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to compose herself. He must have noticed because everything from his stare to his grip relaxed.

"I'm sorry," she said, keeping her eyes closed, "I'm sorry. I think residual emotion is affecting me more than before."

He was rubbing his thumbs slowly back and forth across her collar bones. Even through the fabric of her shirt, she could feel the warmth of his skin. She focused on it, not trusting her mind to wander anywhere safe.

"That may be true," he sighed, "but that's not all of it."

It took all of her strength not to collapse into him right then and there. Pulling his hands off of her, she walked backwards until she was pressed up against the wall. Hoping that he didn't notice how much her legs were shaking, she slid into a sitting position with her hands clasped atop her knees. Cameron followed, kneeling in front of her and placing his hands on top of hers. If he couldn't see her trembling, he could definitely feel it.

Kirsten titled her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She didn't need to be looking at him to know he was giving her that affectionate, worried eyebrow wrinkle. She had all of his expressions committed to memory, but that one made her feel the strangest.

Before she could try and match a word to it, Cameron interrupted her train of thought, "How were people looking at you in the lab?"

She forced her eyelids open but still couldn't look at him.

Staring intently at their clasped hands, she sighed, "Pity; that poor girl who can't feel anything, losing two guardians to suicide."

"Kirsten, that's not-"

"They think they know the truth but they don't!" she finally met his eyes, "Everyone thinks they know him but they don't!"

She balled her hands into fists, her anger a sharp contrast to Cameron as he lovingly stroked her knuckles.

"You knew him." he said, voice thick with compassion, "And there are people who know the truth. Someday, we'll make sure everyone knows it."

She was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't care if people take pity on me, but I care what they think about Ed."

The reality of this settled across her skin like goosebumps. Now that she'd opened the gate, her insides were left feeling dry and hollow. Glaring at their hands, she intertwined their fingers like she had back at the lab. After a taste of it, she found that some of their usual forms of contact were no longer satisfactory. She wanted to play with the small freckle on his left pinky and the rough callus on his right ring finger.

Shaking the thought away, she pushed herself back onto her feet. Cameron waited a bit before he did the same, looking up into her face for more. When it was clear he wasn't going to get it, he heaved himself up with a sigh.

"So where to, Stretch?" he said glancing between each side of the hallway.

Silently, she fixed her eyes on the door directly behind him. Cameron whipped around, eye level with the metallic 820. Stepping around him, Kirsten raised herself onto her toes and groped above the doorframe until she felt the key. It was covered in dust from what must have been years of neglect.

"Megan had offered to give me a key," she remembered vividly, "and I looked her dead in the eyes and asked her when she thought I'd ever visit."

Her fingers were already splayed out- waiting- when he took her free hand in his. She squeezed it tight as she turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

Sorry that it's a tad short but I decided to split it here to prevent having one sumo chapter. Thank you so much for reading and I'll see you in the next life!