Angel's: Yeah...Apparently I have the ability to make myself hate Chase too. I liked him until I started writing him. o_O Weird.
JB: Baha. Credit for that line goes to Vanamo. She's much more witty than I am. Lol.
Less than 13: Glad you like the story...and that 2nd person is working. I keep worrying about it...but I honestly can't see myself typing it any other way.
Amazon: Glad you're liking it! And that I'm so far managing to keep in character. -sweatdrop- And I stole Cameron away to cuddle her myself. -shiftyeyes- I'm giving her back this chapter tho! And I fit SP into everything...seriously. You just have to look for it in my fics. But there are SP references hiding all over the place!
Roronoa: -sends Thirteen and Cam to stitch up your hand- All better? Don't sue me! I'm not...trying to bash Chase, so I dunno. I do have a few ideas into making Chase...nearly likable...eventually.
Eva: Thanks!
YDPP: I'm glad you're liking it. It's definitely a challenge writing from both their POVs in 2nd person.
WrongObsession: I had to look up BAMF on urban dictionary. -is totally pathetic- Hope your SATs went well! Those things suck...
Nameless: I stole Cam. But I am now returning her (reluctantly).
Wonderous: Thank you!
Wesley: I had a shark...but my family left the window open and froze him to death. My name is now Rabidnar (his name) in honor of him. -sniffles- I have a thing for Chase's hair. -drool- And...and...I wasn't hogging Cam! I was just...okay, I was totally keeping her all to myself.
Ina: I suck at trying to make my stories progress quickly. I always feel like I'm missing things and have no clue how to make time pass. So...glad that's working out for my advantage!
SIGNAL FIRE
CHAPTER FOUR
The Finish Line
I feel like I am watching everything from space.
And in a minute, I'll hear my name and awake.
Cameron's POV:
As you approach the doors of the chapel, you're not sure how you got there. You remember getting up and leaving your hospital room but everything between then and now is just a blur. Thirteen was nowhere to be found when you woke up. It didn't bother you so tried to go back to sleep. Not only couldn't you sleep, you soon realized you couldn't feel anything.
Physically, your body has taken on a new soreness. You're not sure how you expected not to feel what that man had done to you. You feel it now. It hurts to even walk. Emotionally, you're completely numb. You're not angry at the man who hurt you. You're not scared to be without Thirteen anymore. You're not anything. There's fear deep down, but because you're numb, it feels like it's in a box. It's unsettling but your mind wards off even that emotion.
You push open the doors and let yourself in then walk to one of the pews near the middle. The place is completely empty. You're glad it's empty because you just want to be alone. Letting out a shaky breath through your mouth, you sit down and stare blankly. It brings back memories and you wonder if this was the pew you sat in after you aided in the death of Ezra Powell. Part of you expects House to walk through the doors and place his hand on your shoulder again. Your mind is screaming for any such comfort.
You can still see the thankful look Ezra gives you and hear his voice telling you you're doing the right thing. You're sitting in the locker room, overwhelmed with guilt and terror. As soon as his breathing began to get shallow, you ran. Even as horrified as he looked, he told you it was okay for you to go. It was over. You're wringing your hands together and fidgeting nervously, doubting that what you did was right.
You're in the chapel again. You're leaning forward with your arms resting on your legs and your hands clasped tightly together. Tears are stinging your eyes, but you don't know why. The flashback left you feeling detached and less in touch with reality than before.
Tears are streaming down your face. You try to tell yourself Ezra was going to die anyway, but it doesn't ease the feelings you have from what you did. There are so many feelings that you can't even pinpoint what they are. You're sure some of them are positive, but you can only feel the negative. You never believed in God, but you need something pure to restore all that you've lost by euthanizing Ezra. The chapel isn't helping as much as you thought it would, but you can't bring yourself to leave.
The doors in the back don't make any noise as they open, but you're alerted someone is there once you hear footsteps. You try to convince yourself it's the family of some patient and not someone searching for you. Staring straight ahead, you deny your curiosity about who it is. All you want to think about is Ezra. Part of you wants to drown in your guilt as some sort of punishment incase you were wrong.
There's a hand on your shoulder and you automatically know it's House. You lean into his touch and suddenly don't want him to leave. The two of you stay there in silence for what feels like several hours even though in reality it's only a few seconds.
You slowly place your hand on your shoulder because you need to make sure House's isn't there. You just felt his hand there; you know you did. It isn't there when you reach to touch your shoulder though. A few tears begin to fall and you quickly wipe them away. The flashbacks are disturbing not only because they're about something you want to forget but also because they have nothing to do with the reason you're in the chapel now.
You figure you should be having flashes of…of what? Leaning forward, you bury your face against your hands and try to remember. You know what happened to you, but the details are fuzzy. The more you think about it, the more you realize you don't know any of the details at all. You knew them last night. You knew them this morning. You couldn't stop thinking about them. You can't find any of the memories now. Some part of you is thankful. If what happened to you was so traumatic that your brain has chosen to store it away, then let it be gone! The rest of you knows that it probably won't be gone forever and it's not healthy to keep such things locked away.
"Jesus! I was looking all over for you!"
You turn to see Thirteen standing in the doorway of the chapel. "Pun intended?" you ask, trying to see if you can even feel amusement. You can't even feel good emotions. If she got the joke, it doesn't seem to entertain her anymore than it does you. Looking away as she walks toward you, you scoot over so she can sit down.
"You could have left a note or something," she says as she sits down beside you.
"I didn't think you'd care," you answer. Sniffling, you scoot forward on the pew and cross your arms over the back of the pew in front of you. You rest your head on your arms and close your eyes.
"Yeah, well, I do," she answers simply. She places a hand on your back and doesn't move it even as you jump.
Her touch makes you shiver. You lean back again and rest your head against her shoulder, soaking in comfort and the feeling of safety whether your deadened emotions need it or not. "How did you find me?"
"I come here sometimes," Thirteen says. She leans back and props her foot up on the pen holder on the back of the pew in front of you.
You glance up at her. It's hard to see Thirteen ever willingly set foot in the chapel for some reason. Maybe it's because of all the rumors you've heard about her. "Does it help?"
"No," she replies bluntly.
"Oh." You glance down and hesitantly take her hand. "What do you ask for?"
"Who says I ask for anything?" she answers and laces your fingers.
"That's why most people come here," you answer. You rub your thumb lightly up and down her pointer finger as you think. "It's either usually to ask for something or to celebrate something." You notice the look on her face is emotionless and distant. If there was a light bulb hovering above your head, it'd suddenly flicker on. "Sorry."
"Chase is looking for you," she says after a moment. "I can find him if you want."
You shake your head. You know eventually you're going to have to face everyone, but right now you just want to be with her.
"He's going to find you eventually," she says. "He's your boyfriend. You need to talk to him. You can't just hide from everyone. If you do, you're not going to get anywhere."
You know she's right. "He's going to think I'm dirty." Your voice cracks even though you're not sure why. "What if he leaves?"
"Where do you even get these thoughts?" she asks. "You know you're being illogical." She lets go of your hand and gets to her feet. "I have a job I need to get back to. You can do this."
You don't know whether to be thankful for her firmness or not. You know without it, you'd just curl up on the chapel pew for the rest of the day. You want to curl up on the chapel pew for the rest of the day though. "Are you going to leave?"
"Depends what you mean by leave," she answers. She reaches out her hand then helps you up once you take it. "If you need me, you know where to find me."
You nod slowly. "What if I can't talk to him?" Keeping a tight grip on her hand, you follow her out of the chapel and back to your room.
"Then tell him he needs to give you time," she answers. "If he doesn't listen, page me and I'll tell him he needs to give you time."
"I don't want to." The fear is coming back. You pull your hand away and take a few steps back, almost crashing into someone walking by you. You jump and spin around, colliding with Thirteen instead. The wall stops her from falling over and she swears under her breath then rubs her elbow. You step away from her and press the palms of your hands to your eyes. Your chin starts to quiver and you quickly clench your jaw to make it stop. You're already disgusted with yourself for crying so much.
"Allison!" Chase rushed up to you. You know it's him because of his voice. Before you can move, he already has an arm around your shoulders and is pulling you closer to him. Every muscle in your body goes rigid that it's too painful to pull away. "You can go now," he tells Thirteen.
You glance over at her for a second before closing your eyes again and trying to remain calm. She's still clutching her elbow and you feel culpable.
"Chase," she says slowly. "You should just-"
"I got it," Chase cuts her off. He tightens his grip on you and it makes you feel sick. "Doesn't House have clinic duty or a case for you to do?"
"House wants me to take care of Cameron," Thirteen answers.
"You're on House's diagnostic team," Chase answers. "So unless you're diagnosing her with something, you shouldn't even be her doctor."
Head aching, you press your palms to your temples and loosely twist your hair around your fingers. You try to block out their arguing, but to you it seems more intense than it really is. Exhaustion seizes everything about you and suddenly Chase is the only thing supporting you. He pulls you further into his embrace and you break down and cry.
"Chase!" Thirteen all but yells at him, "You're scaring her!"
"You don't know anything about her," he responds icily. "Go do your job."
She glances over at you and bites her lip then glares at Chase. "Fine," she replies, her voice just as harsh as his. "I will."
You count every footstep as she walks away, silently begging her to come back. Shrinking against Chase as he leads you the rest of the way back to your room, you clutch the sleeves of Thirteen's hoodie to your face in a futile attempt to hide.