Prompt 9, schadenfreude (taking pleasure in the misfortune of others)
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She got herself into it, she's going to get herself out of it.
Never mind that he might've contributed to her recent state of post-meth jitteriness when he reacted indifferently to the possibility that Cameron could have HIV. He wasn't the one who placed Kalvin's party drugs into her hands and told her to "enjoy life while you can".
Actually, he was kind of—pleased.
He suspected something was up the moment he saw Cameron speed-walking for the elevators. It wasn't because she was late—actually, she arrived at the hospital almost the same time he and the rat Steve McQueen did—that intrigued him. He doubted that she was trying to avoid him in order to avoid being on the receiving end of his extraordinary wit about being punctual.
It was her choice of wardrobe that had him speed-limping to the elevator she dived into, using his cane to stop the doors from closing. Since when did Dr. Cameron opt for the goth beatnik look? She was dressed all in black: black slacks, black turtleneck, and black beret.
She also looked like hell. She never arrives at the hospital without her hair tied up in some way. She never arrives at the hospital without her make-up on to cover the dark-circled, slightly reddish eyes or the ghastly pallor of her skin.
She also doesn't twitches—and rarely does she have a snappy comeback to his snarking (he blames it on Steve McQueen).
Something was up with sweet Dr. Cameron.
How interesting.
After the father-and-homosexual-son spat they've witnessed in the patient's room, he ushered Cameron to the conference room. He let her rant (for once) non-stop, hoping that she'd share whatever she did the previous night that provoked today's metamorphosis to goth chick.
He wished he hadn't.
She slept with Chase—and he figured it out without letting his subordinates verify or deny it when Cameron paused, speechless, during her meth-fueled speed-chattering.
She slept with Chase.
He let her suffer the after-effects of the meth—or rather, he let Chase take care of that when he overheard the little wombat asking for a bottle of Ativan from the hospital pharmacist. Let the little lovers deal with it.
He doesn't care--he doesn't want to show he cares.
She seemed to have grown up after that. The days following her exposure, he saw her mature, witnessed firsthand how she fenced off his sarcastic barbs. He felt proud, because he was responsible for that.
So, why did it hurt when he figured it out?
FIN