Angel's: Glad you like how I'm portraying Cameron. I get a bit nervous as I think of the direction I'm going to take her character. And glad you liked poor Thirteen falling out of bed. Lol.
WrongObsession: Ah. SATs...I remember those. -gag- Waking up attached to Thirteen...would be quite amazing. My bear from Crash Bang Boom might get a little jealous if I traded him for her though. Hopefully, I can keep it serious and not get carried away with stuff. I'm pretty good w/ psych stuff though.
Amazon: Yus, I am going to continue this. I've never written anything quite like this before, so it's interesting to try and keep it going. Hopefully, I can keep it realistic. And yes...'cause SP is the most amazing band EVER. I was listening to Signal Fire as I typed and it got to the line, "In the confusion and the aftermath, you are my signal fire." I was like..."Huh. Totally fitting." Though really, this fic is very very loosely based off Near To You by A Fine Frenzy.
Less than 13: Ew. History is icky. Essays are even ickier. Put them together and that's like...torture! I'm wondering what direction this is headed too...'cause I don't really know yet. I have some ideas...but they're few and far between. And if you think about it...a relationship just wouldn't work right now.
Wonderous: Thanks!
Nameless: Procrastinating is great. Sometimes I even procrastinate on procrastinating. I plan to keep writing as long as people keep reviewing.
JB (chapt 1): I'm glad I'm managing to do 2nd person well. It's definitely a challenge to write.
JB (chapt 2): I'm not sure how much I'm going to reveal about what really happened or if Thirteen will ever even find out. It's a possibility though.
Eva: Thank you.
YourDepressed: Patience is a virtue...that apparently neither of us were born with. Ha. And Cameron won't be okay for awhile.
Wesley: Haha. I don't think I could take too much time. I get too impatient to post chapters for reviews. xD And don't worry...I have some fluffy moments planned.

SIGNAL FIRE

CHAPTER THREE
Disarray
Everyone around me is trying to make a statement.
Then there's me.
I'm just trying to survive.

Thirteen's POV:

Sitting on the floor holding Cameron really isn't doing any good for your aching back, but you're slightly scared to move her. She looks so fragile and vulnerable curled up in your arms and something in you is demanding you keep her safe. The blanket has fallen off of her slightly and before you tuck it around her again, you stroke her arm a few times and wonder how anyone could ever want to hurt her. You don't know her very well but the longing to protect her is suddenly almost overwhelming. Unfortunately, you're not sure how to go about caring for her. The only thing you've ever looked after was a goldfish you won at a fair once and you accidentally overfed it within the first week.

She shifts in your arms and turns her face against your shoulder as she starts coughing. You rub your hand up and down her back and have a bad feeling that this is all going to end with you sulking in bed for a few days with the flu. Still coughing, she sobs a few times in her sleep and tries to sit up straighter.

"It's okay. Breathe, Sweetheart." You support her as she tries to get into a more upright position. The cup of water is still over at the sink and completely out of reach from your spot on the floor. The coughing eases up on its own and she sinks back down against you, quivering slightly. She makes a whining noise and wraps her arms around her chest.

"Shhh," you try to soothe her. You know she's hurting, but there's really not much you can do for her while you're both sitting on the floor. You slide one arm under her legs and the other across her back, hoping you don't wake her in your attempt to move her. Grunting quietly, you get to your feet. For someone so small, she's sure heavy enough. She's dead weight in your arms as you carry her to the bed then lay her down.

You consider lying down again with her but decide against it. It might make her feel better emotionally, but you know it won't do anything for her physically. You have to remind yourself that you're her doctor and not really her friend. That thought causes you to pause and think. Are the two of you friends? The simple answer is no, not really. You could probably count all the facts you know about each other on one hand. It's hard to decide whether you care about her or whether this is all just because of her dire need for someone to watch over her right now.

After grabbing the cup of water from the sink, you sit down beside her and carefully ease her into a sitting position that's supported by your arm and side. "Allison." You pat her cheek and she groggily opens her eyes. For a moment she looks disoriented but then she goes rigid. "It's just me," you assure her before she can panic. "You need to drink so you don't get dehydrated."

"Hm?" Her anxiety seems to be replaced by confusion again.

Her grogginess amuses you slightly, but you know right now it's more important that she drink than look cute. You hold the cup to her lips and tilt it slightly. "Swallow," you instruct warmly. "Good girl." You pull the cup back when all the water is gone and allow her to curl up at your side for a moment. Grasping her wrist, you make a mental note that her pulse in slightly elevated. The thermometer is still on the floor so you check her temperature by placing your hand on her forehead. Her skin is still warm but it's cooler than what it was last night at least.

"Thirteen?" She breathes out and grips your shirt, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and pointer finger for a moment.

"Yeah?" You glance down at her hand and think about holding it but you change your mind. There's silence and you soon realize she's fallen asleep again. You carefully pry her fingers from your shirt then ease her back down against the bed. You're nervous about leaving her there, but you can't stick around in one hospital room all day. House doesn't have any cases but he did assign you to an excess amount of paperwork. It's possible for you to do your paperwork in the room with Cameron, but you really need a break.

Hovering by the door, you come close to mentally exhausting yourself over whether or not you should leave.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So what's it like having a friend?" House stops across the hall and leans on his cane.

"What?" You step outside the room and silently close the door behind you.

"I just figured that since you don't seem to have any, you might have some thoughts on Cameron," House replies. He shrugs then begins walking down the hall.

"I have friends." You don't really feel the need to prove yourself to him, but you need someone to talk to. "Plenty of them," you add as you follow him, "I just make sure they all avoid you." You smirk.

"Well, you don't have any friends at the hospital then," he answers and glances back at you, returning the smirk.

"I have Foreman," you answer a little too quickly because you see him at the other end of the hall.

"Foreman!" House calls.

You mentally hit yourself in the forehead and frown. "You don't have to -"

"Are you Thirteen's friend?" House asks as the two of you approach Foreman.

Foreman stares at you a moment. "We're coworkers," he answers and looks at House again. "Not friends."

"Thanks," you deadpan, "Big help."

"How's Cameron?" Foreman asks. He and House both turn to face you as if they're expecting some kind of easy answer.

"Does Chase know yet?" you reply, avoiding their question. You don't know what to say to them. Obviously, she's not okay, but you don't know how to put what she's feeling into words because you barely even know what she's feeling yourself.

"Have you seen him?" House asks.

"Well, no," you reply. "But I've been with Cameron since last -"

"Exactly. Maybe you should call him." House stops at the nurses' station and grabs a stack of papers. "You can do that while you're filling these out. After that, I need you to do my clinic duty."

"Why can't Foreman do your clinic duty?" you ask, taking the paperwork from him.

"Because I have a patient with Pulmonary Eosinophilia," Foreman answers. "He needs a gastric lavage to look for an ascaris worm."

"I'm sure someone else can do it," you reply. You turn to House. "If Cameron needs me, I won't be able to get to her as fast if I'm in the clinic."

"I see why you don't have any friends," House comments. "I applaud you for your ability to evade the clinic almost as well as me. Foreman, take clinic duty. Thirteen, go film your Lifetime movie."

You smirk and give Foreman a smug look. That's what he deserved, not that he being your friend really would have changed the situation. You feel a bit bad for using Cameron to get out of clinic duty but you're as much of a pro at evading guilt as you are at avoiding the clinic.

"Why didn't anyone call me?" The Australian accent practically echoes throughout the hall and all the nurses that were chatting around you go silent.

You turn to face Chase and run your fingers through your hair.

"I have clinic duty," Foreman says. He smirks back at you then walks away.

"I really don't have anything to do," House says, "but I'm sure you can weasel your way out of this too. See ya." He gives you a grin then follows after Foreman.

You're out of ideas and beginning to feel stressed out over the whole situation. "You're not on her emergency contacts," you answer calmly and walk past him as he storms toward you. He turns and follows you.

"Not on her -" Chase huffs and shakes his head. "Where is she?"

"She's sleeping," you answer. This conversation is getting old fast. You subconsciously glance at your pager then flip through the papers in your hand. "Do you have a pen?"

He gives you a flustered look and pulls a pen from his pocket them hands it to you. "I come to work and a nurse tells me my girlfriend has been…has been…" He doesn't seem able to say the word. "And all you can tell me is she's sleeping? Tell me what room's she's in."

You don't know what to do. This would be so much different if neither Cameron nor Chase were people you knew and worked with. Sighing, you come to a halt and turn to face him. "Look," you say, staring at him sympathetically, "She's scared stiff. I doubt she wants -"

"How the hell would you know what she wants?" he asks, narrowing his eyes at you. "I'll figure it out myself." He turns and begins walking back toward the nurses' station.

"Just let her go for awhile." Your voice is calm, but you feel like you're internally begging him. You follow him back down the hall and cringe when a nurse gives him the information he's asking for. It figures that nurses can never just keep their mouths shut. "At least wait until she wakes up. Let me talk to her first."

He doesn't say a word to you. He walks past you, towards Cameron's room then stops outside the door once he gets there. It's hard to tell whether the look on his face is still anger or if it's changed to intense worry. He just stands outside the door for a good minute before placing his hand on the knob.

The only thing you can do is stand there and watch. You mentally go down through all hospital policies in your head and try to think of a reason why he wouldn't be allowed in there. You rule out him not being family because he can quickly use the excuse that he's a doctor. You're sure he'll be able to get around it if you reply that he's not her doctor. Crossing your arms, you close your eyes and bite your lip. You wonder what the hell you got yourself into. Not only are you trying to deal with Cameron, now you have Chase to worry about too.

"I thought this was her room," Chase says.

You open your eyes. "What?" He's now standing in the doorway while staring at an empty bed. Your eyes widen and you push him lightly out of the way to get past him. Cameron is nowhere to be seen. "This is her room."

"Then where is she?" he asks.

You have no idea. You can't think of any place she could have gone and begin to worry she went looking for you. It was definitely a bad idea to leave her alone. Rationality tells you no matter how broken Cameron is, she probably isn't doing some search of the entire hospital just to find you. She could have easily had someone page you. That intensifies your panic though, because it leaves you with fewer possibilities.

"Thirteen?" Chase questions.

You ignore him because you have more important things to think about than his questioning. Pushing past him once more, you go in the opposite direction of where you just came from to find Cameron.