YDPP: Yes. Hahaha. Wilson the secret hustler. xD Bah. I could never ever ever let any of my stuff be adopted. It'd drive me insane. Considering I know what I want to happen and no one else does.
Ilessthree: Yup. I'll continue it till it's finished. Fortunately, I plan on this being rather long. I have a lot in store for it as long as I know people are continuing to read. And ha. I plan on going home and playing a game like that with my brothers now. It reminds me of when I was in Jamaica and we all gambled with Jamaica change (which averages as less than a penny...so we never went broke!).
Wonderous: Glad you enjoyed that line. Fluff is fun...sometimes. Ha.
Nameless: See...look. You won't die of impatience now! Tho...I'm still not sharing what they got each other for Christmas until Christmas!
WrongObsession: Thank you. I happen to have made a lot of plans for this story. So hopefully it continues to be good.
Amazon: Thank you so much for being supportive of me. Enough with the fluff and sweetness tho. Bahaha. I'm still a sadistic author.
Roronoa: Hey...I don't mind if big, old, fat guys with glasses read my fics...as long as they don't try to hit on me or stalk me or something. Maybe Santa is reading (hey...he's big, old, and fat with glasses!) and plans on delivering Remy/Cam to me for Christmas! That's what I'm going to expect for Christmas now...Remy/Cam under my tree in the lingerie mentioned in this chapter. Baha.
Wesley: Well, I'm glad I managed to make you smile! And no...not the ants. Despite that they're very evil. Bad forces such as friends and happy who would very much like me to like boys. I don't think I could compare myself to my shark. Just cause as he was dying, he kept getting stuck to the filter. That's just a weird image of me getting stuck to a filter. Baha. Laughing makes me sound mean...'Cause I cried when he died. Poor Rabidnar! Uh...him...not me. Haha. Yes! Now not only is Wilson a hustler, but Cameron is too! That might have given me an idea. Haha. This chapter...is not very sweet and fluffy.
SIGNAL FIRE
CHAPTER TEN
Look After You
When I'm losing my control, the city spins around.
You're the only one who knows.
You slow it down.
Cameron's POV:
If your grocery store visit yesterday with Thirteen hadn't been nerve-wracking enough, the mall was definitely close enough to send you over the edge. The holidays brought multitudes of people and very few seem to care about personal space as they rush to do last minute shopping. You're pressed up against Thirteen's side and she has a hand on your lower back as you follow Kutner and Taub through the mall. You begin to wonder why you even came with them. You did win the game after all. It hits you that you were too scared to be home alone.
"Wilson should have at least told us what to buy," Thirteen complains, glancing in the windows of stores. "Are we supposed to buy something serious or joking?"
"What could we buy that's serious for this?" Kutner asks.
"I don't know," she answers. "Something they might actually like?"
"Where's the fun in that?" Kutner stops outside of Spencer's and peers inside through the window. "Maybe we should stop in here."
"Thirteen's right," you say. "Maybe we should get them something they might like." You don't like the idea of getting them gag gifts for Christmas. Spencer's isn't exactly one of your favorite stores either. "That could still be fun."
"Not as fun," Kutner replies. He and Taub head inside and immediately split up down the different aisles.
Thirteen glances at you and shrugs. "Do you want to go in?" she asks.
"No." You petulantly cross your arms tightly across your chest and vow to stand stubbornly outside. You cough a few times and curse the never-ending tickle in your throat. "I need a drink."
Thirteen nods slightly. "There's a drink stand right over there," she says pointing across the walkway.
"Come with me?" You plead. Glancing over at the line, you wring your hands together. "They're going to run into me and I'm going to jump and-"
"You'll be fine," she assures you. "Go buy yourself something to drink. Your throat is sounding scratchy again." She pauses and frowns slightly for a moment. "I'll be right here."
Weighing your options, you glance back and forth between the drink stand and Thirteen. A smoothie sounds extremely good at the moment but you can't decide whether it's worth the risk of people bumping into you and causing you to panic.
"I'm going to follow Kutner and Taub," Thirteen says slowly. "You can go get a drink or come with me into the store. It's pointless standing around out here."
Letting out a shaky breath through your mouth, you nod slightly. You don't know why you feel like you need her there for comfort. Trying to break away from needing her protection, you agree with your logic which is telling you you'll be fine. "Ok. I'm going to go get a drink. Just don't go too far, okay?"
"I won't," she replies. "I'll be near the door."
The line at the drink stand isn't as bad as you thought it would be. You keep a good foot or so away from the person in front of you. The person who ends up in line behind you is a little too close for your liking, but it's a girl so you're relatively okay. You order a strawberry smoothie then turn to leave and almost run into House. You jump back a few inches and clutch your drink.
"Well, look who's here," House comments, smirking. "Didn't see you there."
"You were standing an inch away from me," you reply, relaxing slightly. "What are you doing here?" The mall is the last place you'd ever expect to see someone like House. You narrow your eyes at him, hoping you're not the reason he's here because he's clearly not doing just some casual shopping.
He lifts his cane points to the left down the walkway.
Turning to find what he's pointing to, you have to glance around for a moment. You look past the long line to see Santa and a few Christmas decorations until your eyes land on someone beside a stand selling glass ornaments. You sigh in exasperation and narrow your eyes at him. "You're stalking Cuddy?"
"It's not stalking," he answers. "I'm watching to see if she buys me anything."
Rolling your eyes, you walk away from the drink stand. "Why?"
"Because I don't want something I'm not going to like," he answers. "You're not following Thirteen around the mall to see if she gets you anything? I'm assuming she's shopping for you or you're shopping for her which is why you're not with her."
"Actually, she just went into a store and I wanted a drink." You hold up your smoothie before taking a few sips of it. The small chips of ice soothe your throat and distract you for a moment. "What do you think Thirteen would like for Christmas?"
House turns to Spencer's and points to the lingerie in the window. They're advertisements of red lace with fake holly between the breast and on the sides of the panties. "Same thing I want. To see you in that."
Cheeks burning, you gaze down at the floor. At one point in time, you may have actually considered that. Now the thought of showing off your body makes your chest tight and your throat constrict. "You're an ass," you whisper, subconsciously tugging your shirt up.
"House, what are you doing?" Cuddy walks over with her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes at him. "Are you okay, Cameron?"
You nod slowly and glance at her. "Thanks," you mumble softly. You're not sure if you're more thankful she asked if you were okay or that she rescued you from House.
"I'm shopping," House says. "That's what most people do at the mall."
"You're not most people," Cuddy says as if he needs the reminder. She places a hand on your back and leaves it there even as you tense. "Where's Dr. Hadley?"
"Shopping," you answer bitterly. You glance up and notice Thirteen watching you from the door. Ashamed, you look away and stare down at your hands. You can practically feel her eyes on you and you suddenly want to just fade away and be anywhere other than where she's looking.
"Leave them alone, House," Cuddy warns. She gently takes you by the arm and leads you away from him to do a little of your own shopping.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Allison, are you sure you're okay?" Thirteen pulls up beside her apartment and parks the car then glances at you in what you can assume is worry.
"I'm fine," you reply. You shrug her hand away as she tries to put it on your shoulder for the fifth time since you left the mall. "I just don't want to be touched right now." You wish you would have just stayed home and not even gone to the mall. You can't believe it never sunk in that Thirteen was practically the same as all the guys. It makes you sick to your stomach to think she might be checking you out. She even helped you in the shower so now she has a mental image of you naked in her head. You doubt she really bothers to think about you in a sexual way. You're too damaged and not pretty enough for that. The thought still makes you feel self-conscious though.
"I don't feel well," you mutter quietly as you open your door and get out of the car. "I think I'm going to go to bed."
"What's wrong? Still your throat?" She gets out of the car and shuts the doors then goes through her keys on her keychain until she finds the one for her apartment.
"Stomach," you answer in a mumble then quickly try to dismiss the topic. "I'm just stressed out. It's okay."
"It might be exhaustion too," she says, walking inside and down the hall. "You haven't been sleeping well."
"Right." You don't remember waking up like she says you do. You definitely don't remember screaming in the middle of the night for the past two nights. Sighing, you clutch the bag that contains the gift Cuddy helped you pick out and follow Thirteen.
Not watching where you're going, you run into Thirteen when she comes to a halt in the middle of the hall. "What are you-" You stop talking when you look up and manage a guttural moan as your stomach does a flip-flop.
Beside Thirteen's apartment door, the word 'slut' is written in large black letters.
Dropping your bag, you turn you back to it and close your eyes tightly. Your throat constricts and you brace yourself against the wall as you try to focus on breathing.
"That was probably directed at me," Thirteen says quietly. You're not sure whether she's being honest or saying it to make you feel better. "Go inside. I'll call the landlord to wash it off."
"What if it was him?" you choke. "What if he was here?" Your thoughts quickly twist to what if he broke in and was inside waiting for you or something. Sharp pain in your chest causes you to cringe. You start to sink to the floor but Thirteen catches you and forces you to stay standing.
"It wasn't," she answers. "I'll call the police too if it makes you feel better."
"Stop touching me," you beg, trying to pull away. "Please!" Your legs are shaking and you know they won't support you if she lets go but you don't care. "I can't breathe." The switch between not wanting her to touch you and desperately needing her happens in less than a second.
You struggle against the person holding you and finally manage to break free. It only takes a matter of moments to get back to your car and try to turn the key in the ignition. He grabs you again and drags you back outside, shoving you hard against the ground.
"You really thought you could get away?" he asks. He adjusts the ski mask over his face and yanks you to your feet again.
You're too scared to even think. You try to struggle but he overpowers you and pulls you in a direction opposite of your car.
"I can't breathe. I can't breathe." All you can do is gasp and choke for air. "I can't - I can't-"
"Yes, you can," Thirteen assures you. "You just need to slow down." She managed to get you inside but you're not sure how.
The shame is unbearable and you collapse onto the couch, hiding your face in your hands. You don't want her to touch you. You don't want her to even look at you. Yet at the same time, you need it. Tears begin to leak down your face and you reprimand yourself for crying. Beginning to feel light-headed, you lean forward and sob quietly. "I c-can't breathe." The thought he might be inside plagues your mind again and you begin taking hastened breaths, feeling like you're suffocating. Bile starts to rise in your throat but you manage to choke it back down and your hands start shaking.
Thirteen sits down behind you and pulls you back against her. "Allison," she says firmly. She takes an exaggerated, deep breath for you to copy. "You're going to make yourself pass out." She takes another deep breath.
Part of you wants to pass out. You don't want to feel like you even exist right now. You try to breathe with her anyway but you can't. Stomach disagreeing with you, you attempt to get up but she has a tight grip on you. "Thirteen, please," you beg her. "Please." She doesn't get the hint and you lurch forward as far as possible as you throw up.
"Fuck." She pulls your hair gently back away from your face and places a hand on your back. "Allison. Allison, calm down, Sweetheart."
You choke a few times, finding it even harder to get air into your lungs while you're vomiting. Losing control over your mind and now your body exasperates you. You began to feel detached but your painfully contracting stomach muscles drag you ruthlessly back to reality. Mortification sets in once your stomach stops heaving. "I'm sorry." You sob and wipe at your mouth and nose, trying to shrink back against her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You know you sound like a broken record, but you can't stop saying it.
"It's alright." She lets your hair fall back over your shoulders and lies down with you, holding you protectively. "It's okay." She takes one more exaggerated breath. "Just try to breathe."
The only thing reminding you how to breathe and at what rate to do it in is the rise and fall of Thirteen's chest against your back. You manage to breathe with her a few times but a knock on the door causes you to lose your nerve again. Covering your face with your arms, you roll to face her and cower. Feeling her tense, you know she's trying to remain calm as the person knocks again.