Disclaimer…I don't own anything

Author's Note…Sorry for the delay in updates…it took a long time to write and beta this chapter. Ok, tell me what you think in your much-appreciated review (please, please, please!) Loads of thanks to my beautiful reviewers (no, I don't have anything on my nose, why do you ask?) and lots of loads to my lovely beta, randomname, who actually gave me the suggestion for the first name. What do you think of the choice?

"Anyone can become angry. That is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way;

That is not easy."

-Aristotle

Cameron gently set the phone back on the receiver as if she was placing a newborn baby her mother's waiting arms. She made sure it sat perfectly on the cradle so it was comfortable. She kept it so that everything in her world was just right.

Cameron always thought it would be a good idea to make friends with the phone. Not the weird inanimate objects kind of friendship, but the kind where if you take care of something, it will do you favors. Cameron guessed this little quirk of hers had started in the ninth grade where she would dust the phone if only it would ring with Matt Thompson on the other end; traveled with her to college where she would cross her fingers whenever it rang, praying that it wasn't her mother telling her Cameron's grandmother had passed, and stayed with her since her husband had died.

Cameron was jerked out of her memory when the buzzer harshly rang through her apartment. She jumped at the sound of Wilson's voice, asking if he could come up. Of course she said yes, but she really wasn't in the mood for visitors. At least not visitors who didn't bring chocolate or pizza.

Wilson brought neither, but he did wear a defensive look on his ordinarily kind face, as if he were protecting something. Cameron guessed it was his heart.

As soon as he entered, Wilson crossed his arms over his chest; another defense-mechanism. He let his eyes roam the apartment, adjust to his surroundings. It looked comfortable enough. He smirked at the bra thrown hastily over the treadmill in the corner of the room. "That's Victoria's Secret, right?"

Cameron frowned. "If you came here just to ogle at my bras, go to House. He says he has magazines and as he's told us many a time, he never lies."

"That's not why I came here."

"Well then, why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here."

Cameron shrugged.

"He… Bryan. What did I miss?"

Cameron frowned. "I can't tell you everything. There's too much to tell."

"I have all night. And all day."

Cameron sat down, put her head in her hands, and closed her eyes as if drawing up some reserve. Finally, she looked back up at Wilson and motioned for him to sit down. "Where do I start?"

It only took a moment for Wilson to say what seemed like the obvious answer. "The beginning. How you met, I guess."

Of course.

XXXxxxXXX

We met in a morgue. Isn't that funny? It's just so damn ironic and that kind of makes sense, in some weird, cosmic way. Everything about him, about us, about now, it all revolves around irony.

At any rate, I was at a class there. I had just started medical school and it was my first time. I remember he said I was a morgue virgin when I told him. It's stupid, but I laughed.

We were examining a body. I was with my friend Jamie, and she was just freaking out. Dead people, I guess. And, I didn't find this out until the next day, but he was upstairs and fifteen minutes before class began, he got his diagnosis: terminal. We- I know because he remembered the exact time and we kind of compared it. I guess we wanted to know what we had missed. Anyway, I don't know what exactly happened next, just bits and pieces of it, but he wanted to kind of escape. Who wouldn't? So he snuck into the morgue with my class.

At first I didn't see him. He was behind us, and trying to keep a low-profile, I guess. That makes sense. And remember, class had just started. So Professor Ryner, our professor, pulled back the sheet on this one particular body. I remember exactly what he looked like-- he was young, about our age. He had brown hair and a little stubble. He actually looked a little bit like Bryan. Professor Ryner told us that authorities believed that his wife poisoned him, but they needed an autopsy to confirm it. I didn't know why we had to do it. We were just a bunch of students, right? But anyway, he called me up to start. I did everything I was supposed to, but when I got back to the spot I was standing in, my hands were shaking so bad, I thought I'd be the next patient in there.

And I guess he saw my hands, no, no, that night he said he heard my bracelet jingling (even though I had taken off my bracelet for that class) and felt bad for me. So he came over, and remember, he was still behind me, so I couldn't see him-- and he whispered in my ear, "I see dead people. They're everywhere."

I had just seen the Sixth Sense a week ago and it scared me so much, and got me so angry, I was about to cry. I was furious. So I whirled around to look at him and there he was and all the sudden, I couldn't remember why I was just livid. It's so cliché, but it actually felt like we were the only two people in the world.

A room full of dead people, and I start believing in fate and true love and love at first sight and all that gushy stuff that makes you feel sick.

And you wanna know something? After class, when we couldn't find anything that would indicate poison, Professor Ryner told us that in actuality, the guy had died of heart disease. We spent the entire time looking for the wrong thing.

XXXxxxXXX

Cameron gently put her head back into her hands as Wilson slammed the door on his way out. It wasn't really her fault- she had already transcended denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and was well on her way to acceptance but Wilson was years and years behind her. She guessed he was placing his anger on her, and while that didn't do anybody any good, she could certainly understand his behavior. Cameron cringed slightly as she remembered some of the things she had said to Jamie, to her parents, to her doctors, to his doctors, to Joe.

Joe.

Crap.

Well, she decided, I just won't bring Joe up until Wilson does.

With that settled Cameron got up and walked over to her closet, slowly examining each and every article of clothing she owned in preparation for tomorrow. The day she would, once again, meet Johanna Cathryn Wilson.

XXXxxxXXX

Author's Note…I was thinking of incorporating Cameron's reunion with her daughter in this chapter, but I thought it would be too long and frankly, too irrelevant. This chapter was about Wilson having a very hard time coping with the death of his brother and all the things (and people) involved and Cameron being a pushover and being too accepting of Wilson's behavior. That said, get ready for Johanna Cathryn...once again, and thanks for all the lovely names!