The scene at Tristan and Owen's house was all Mike Dallas could think about for hours.
Sure, Dallas could be a major douche bag. He wasn't afraid to admit that.
But he was also a father.
Being a father made his brain grow some kind of compassion that he couldn't shake off, no matter how much teasing he would endure from the team if they ever found out. Caring wasn't really so bad, was it?
Dallas had asked himself that question for a long time as his team made him so conflicted on which personality type gained the most popularity. It always seemed to be the jerks and jackasses that ruled the school, and so that was what he leaned towards.
But not when someone comes to him for help. He didn't pretend he was some kind of heroic superman, but he wouldn't flat out ignore someone as intelligent and concerned as Maya Matlin when it came to the well-being of Campbell Saunders. The kid was totally messed up, and Dallas knew it from the moment he met him.
But he was also kind of like a brother to him. A little brother that needed someone to help him through high school, which he obviously couldn't handle very well by himself.
And so as he sat on the Torres couch in the Torres basement with the one and only Drew Torres playing video games beside him, he let the compassionate part of him take hold for once.
He was worried. Mike Dallas was really, truly worried. And that was something that even he couldn't really wrap his head around.
"Dude, are you okay?" Drew asked distractedly as he blew up a building on his game.
Dallas hadn't noticed that he was drumming his fingers on his knee. He stopped immediately and made a show of sagging in to the couch, relaxed. "Yeah, man."
Drew groaned disappointedly as his character died a rather gruesome death. He set his game controller down and took a swig of the root beer sitting on the coffee table.
"Well, you're pretty crappy company," Drew said as he set the can back down.
Dallas shrugged. "Just tired."
This answer seemed to satisfy Drew as he picked the controller back up and resumed his game.
Dallas' phone vibrated in his pocket. He didn't know how Maya had his number, but he was too distracted by the message on his screen to really think about it.
At Degrassi. Need help. Urgent. - Maya
Dallas' heart dropped. If she was texting him for help, than that means she couldn't turn to anyone else. And that meant that it wasn't about her.
That meant that it was about Cam.
Maya hadn't known what else to do. She couldn't call her Mom. She couldn't call Katie. Not Tori or Tristan or Zig. What help would they be? They wouldn't know what to do.
And Maya sure as hell didn't know what to do.
She was panicking. "Cam, we need to go home. We need to get out of here. There's nothing here for you."
She told him over and over that someone would find them here. People would ask questions.
But Cam was so completely out of it, Maya almost wanted to call an ambulance.
And so, with her still hammering heart, she texted Dallas, whose number she had stolen from Katie's phone when she had an obsession to collect all phone numbers of all students in Degrassi.
Cam was no longer screaming and sobbing. Tears were running down his face now, but he didn't wipe them away. He didn't seem to acknowledge them at all. He trembled even more than he had before, but now he sat against the brick wall at the bottom of the stairs, and Maya was scared to touch him again.
But he just looked so cold. And scared. And everything Maya didn't want him to be.
The words echoed around in her head. Please, Maya, just kill me. It surprised even herself that she hadn't just run away like a coward, away from this twisted boy.
But with a realization that almost caused her to jump in shock, she knew why she stayed with him. Why she slowly slid her hand across the pavement and let it squeeze his. Why her heart ached so badly at the sight of him. Why those five words made tears burn behind her eyes. Why she feared for someone other than herself.
She loved him.
She loved him so very much and she couldn't handle him asking her to...to kill him. To end it all for him-
"I'm sorry," Cam said.
It was a whisper. It was so soft, so full of a shuttering pain that Maya's heart flipped. But why was he saying it? He didn't do anything at all to deserve anything, and yet he blamed himself, and it almost made Maya angry. Why would he say something like that?
She turned her head to look at his face. He still didn't look at her. He squeezed his eyes shut and let more and more tears pour out of them without doing anything to stop them.
So many questions attacked her mind. Why was he shaking so bad? How could his skin be that white? Why did he look so defeated and deflated?
But her stream of questions were interrupted by Dallas, who was walking towards them across the parking lot. He seemed to catch sight of them, as he began jogging now. Maya was prepared for Cam to hate her forever for calling Dallas here.
But somehow, that didn't seem to matter.
Dallas saw Maya in the distance, and he could tell that there was someone else sitting there beside her. He had a pretty good idea who it was.
He began jogging toward them now. He didn't know why she had texted him or what he could possibly do, but he kept going. When he reached Maya, she was saying something to Cam, but he was shaking his head in a weird, faraway manner.
"Maya?" Dallas said, a little out of breath. He waited for some kind of explanation as he stared at Cam and noticed that something was so, so wrong with him. He started to feel a sick horror rising in his stomach.
"I didn't know who to call, Dallas," she said, her voice breaking. She looked as if she was trying not to cry. She was kneeling next to Cam, who didn't open his eyes - didn't even flinch - at the sound of Dallas' name.
"What the hell's wrong with him?" asked Dallas, wide-eyed and moving closer to Cam. He saw that the kid was shaking like a leaf and he looked sickly pale. Dallas crouched in front of him and without warning, Cam opened his eyes and grabbed Dallas' arm.
"I'm sorry," Cam said again, weakly, but louder than before. His voice shuttered when he spoke. Dallas didn't know what the hell he was saying it for, but he knew from the strength of Cam's grip on his arm that he meant it.
Cam could remember when his Mom had taken him to a doctor four years ago after his second panic attack.
He remembered the doctor telling him all the symptoms of an anxiety disorder. He remembered the man describing everything that could happen to Cam while "coping with this psychological disorder." He remembered the man saying how "common and harmless" it was. He remembered how scared he was.
And now as the cold completely took over his body and his grip on Dallas' arm fell limp, he remembered overhearing the doctor telling his Mom about how sometimes, Cam could lose consciousness in extreme cases.
Now, as his eyes went blurry and his head became lighter than air, he knew that that doctor was so right. So very, very right. Cam could feel himself fading to darkness. He absent-mindedly gripped Maya's arm to stop himself from falling, because he didn't want to go away. He deserved to feel it. To feel the pain. But he was so cold...so cold...
He heard Dallas yelling something before he was swallowed whole by some unwelcome darkness.