Angel's: Yay. I'm glad it was cute and that Cameron's PJs totally worked for her. Aha. Glad you're loving it.
Seventh: I'm glad you're liking it!
Roronoa: Glad you thought it was cute. Tho...I didn't squee quite as much writing that chapter as I did the one Cam, Thirteen, and Alex made Christmas cookies in WBND.
WrongObsession: I'm glad you liked it. Happy Holidays to you too.
Less than 13: Glad you liked it. Baha. Christmas break is never relaxing no matter what.
YDPP: Ha. I don't think Chase will be visiting Thirteen's apartment. I'll make the landlord set guard dogs or something on him if he does. Lol.
Amazon: Glad you liked it. Christmas makes it impossible to not be cheery! Unless you're the Grinch...or Scrooge...or House. Haha.
Wonderous: Well...I hope the holidays/sweetness wasn't a turnoff.
Nameless: A hint on what? Haha. I suck at giving hints. My hints always give everything away!
Ina: Yay speculations! You've pretty much got Thirteen pinned. What're some of your questions regarding Cam?
Wesley: Well...he kinda works at the hospital. So, obviously, he'll be back. Haha. Thanks to you...I haven't even started studying yet! /fail
Moo: Glad you liked it!
SIGNAL FIRE
CHAPTER EIGHT
Happiness
Happiness feels a lot like sorrow.
Let it be; you can't make it come or go.
Cameron's POV:
You wake up extremely comfortable. Thirteen rolled over onto her back sometime in the middle of the night and you ended up half on top of her with your head resting on her chest. Her arms are wrapped tightly around you and you never want to leave the warm, snuggly feeling you have.
Sighing, you're pleasantly surprised that you can finally breathe through your nose. Your head still aches but your throat isn't quite as scratchy as it was yesterday. You bury your face against the fabric of Thirteen's nightgown for a moment and attempt to fall asleep again.
"Thirteen, what time do you have to go to work?" you mumble.
She inhales deeply and lets go of you to rub her face. "I dunno," she slurs. "Nine?"
You lift your head and glance at the clock. "It's six now." You glance over at her but she's sleeping again. Rubbing your eyes with one hand, you sit up and accidentally place a hand on the train track. The train crashes into you and pinches the space between your thumb and pointer finger. "Ouch." You quickly pull your hand back and examine it.
"Shhhh." Thirteen pats your arm a few times then rolls onto her side and covers her head with one of her arms.
Frowning, you roll your eyes and bring the injured part of your hand to your mouth and suck on it for a moment. You pull your hand back and look at the red mark for a few seconds before deciding you're probably not going to die.
Realizing you're probably not going to go back to sleep now, you glance around the room then get to your feet. Your suitcase is still on the living room floor and you walk over to it and dig out your cell phone then make your way into the kitchen. You dial a number on the phone then hold it to your ear with your shoulder as you open the refrigerator and begin to search for breakfast foods. You marvel at how you suddenly feel almost as much at home in Thirteen's apartment as you do at your own.
"Hello?"
"Mom!" You glance toward the living room and quickly lower your voice when Thirteen stirs. "Sorry, it's so early. I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No, Sweetheart, I was already up. You said you were going to call yesterday, Allie. Are you okay? It's not like you to say you're going to call and then not."
"Sorry," you apologize, pulling eggs from the refrigerator and taking them over to the counter. "Things came up." You walk over to the breadbox and smile when you find bread in it. "I actually called to ask you and Dad a favor." You glance in at Thirteen again then locate a pan and set to work on making French Toast.
"What do you need, Sweetie?"
"I'm staying with a friend," you answer. "I'll probably be here over Christmas. You know how you and Dad always send me stuff? I was wondering if this year…" You pause and bite your lip, feeling guilty about bragging about your family last night. "I was wondering if maybe you could send double? Something for her too?"
"All you had to say is you're staying with a friend over Christmas!" Her voice becomes suddenly cheerful and she laughs. "Do you know what she likes? This is going to be great shopping for the both of you! I planned on going to the mall today!"
You laugh and shake your head. "I'm sure she'll like anything you pick out," you answer. You go through the cupboard and sift through the different flavors of teabags. "Her name is…" Shit. What's her real name again? "Her name is Thirteen."
"Thirteen? What were her parents thinking?"
Grinning, you finally decide on Apple Spice flavored tea. "House named her that, Mom. Not her parents. Is Dad awake?"
"I'll get him for you. Have a good day, okay? I love you lots."
"I love you too." You smirk as she makes a kissing noise into the phone and continue to make breakfast as you wait for her to pass the phone. "Hi, Dad."
"You said you were going to call yesterday, Allie. Is everything okay, Sweetpea?"
"Things are fine," you lie and try not to think about it. You smile at the petname and almost sigh in relief that your dad isn't among all the men that now make you uncomfortable. "I got busy with work. I was thinking about coming home for New Years. Are you and Mom going to be home?"
"Of course we'll be home!" he answers. "We wouldn't pass up the chance of seeing you!"
"She's coming home?" your mother's voice asks in the background. "Tell her to bring her friend! Go on! Tell her!"
"Your mom wants you to bring your friend. She redecorated the guest bedroom and is dying for someone to spend the night."
"I don't think that's going to happen," you answer. "Sorry. It'll be just me." You hear footsteps and turn and smile as Thirteen wanders into the kitchen still looking half asleep. You smirk at her disheveled appearance. "Morning." You tense as she walks nearer to you but force your smile to stay on your face.
"Who are you talking to?" she asks, running her fingers through her hair. She walks over to the counter then leans forward with her elbows on it and rubs her eyes. "It isn't House, is it? I swear, if he wants me to come in early, I'll-"
"It's not House," you assure her before turning your attention back to your dad. "Dad, I have to go. I'm making breakfast. I love you."
"Love you too, Allie."
You hang up the phone and place it on the counter. "I'm making breakfast," you state the obvious, glancing over at Thirteen. "I feel a lot better today."
"That's good," she answers, muffling a yawn. "Are you going to be okay while I run into work? I won't be long unless House decides to make me stay. You should stay home though and rest until you're sure you're better. How are you feeling other than not feeling sick?"
You nearly drop the fork you're holding. "Let's not talk about it," you answer, shaking your head. "I don't want to think about it, okay?"
"You're going to have to th-"
"I just want to spend a few hours without crying, okay?" you cut her off. You stab at a piece of French Toast on the pan harder than you mean to and roughly flip it over. "And I was thinking about going into work with you."
"I know you need things to get back to normal," she comments, pulling two plates down from one of the cupboards. "But you were still running a fever in the middle of the night when you woke up."
"I don't remember that," you answer, shaking your head. "Here. I'll make us tea." You move so she can put the toast on the plates and you grab two mugs to fill with water.
She stares at you for a moment. "How can you not remember?" she asks. "You woke up screaming. The neighbors turned their porch light on."
"Well, obviously, I wasn't really awake." You watch her turn the stove off then flinch as she walks behind you and puts her hands on your shoulders. "Can we please just…?" Your voice trails off because you're not even sure of what you're saying anymore.
"Okay," she agrees after a moment of silence. She rubs your arms then lets go and takes the plates to the table. "Let's just have a good morning. We'll just talk about it at the hospital. You should probably let me give you a check up anyway."
You cringe and suddenly don't want to go into the hospital anymore. You hit the button on the microwave to heat up the water and get lost staring through the door at the slowly spinning mugs. Thirteen is talking again, but you barely hear her and you feel guilty for tuning her out. Ignoring the situation obviously isn't going to work. As you try to just forget about it, you end up feeling stressed to a point where your chest feels tight.
"It's going to start beeping," Thirteen warns you a few seconds too late. The alarm on the microwave goes off, causing you to jump back and knock over one of the chairs at the table.
For a moment, you're too startled to even move. You begin mumbling your apologies and reach down to pick up the chair as she walks over to the microwave to get the mugs. Feeling her watching you, you can't bring yourself to look back at her. "I'm not hungry anymore."
"You need to eat, Allison," she replies, grabbing the teabags and putting them in the water. "Even if it's just a few bites. You have to. You were hungry a few minutes ago."
It's hard to find the strength to argue. Your stomach rolls slightly from stress and you take a sip from one of the mugs despite that the tea isn't even strong yet. Glancing at Thirteen out of the corner of your eye, you watch her walk to the table and sit down before you follow her lead. "You need more eggs," you tell her quietly.
"I probably need more bread too," she answers. "I definitely need more milk and orange juice. We should go to the store after work."
You try to ignore a twinge of nervousness. "We could pick up some Christmas cookies too," you answer. "We could also get those mini candy canes to hang on our tree." You pause. "Your tree," you correct yourself.
"I'm sure our tree would look great with mini candy canes," she replies, starting to eat. "This is really good," she comments with her mouth half full.
"Thanks." You poke at your food before cutting it up and pushing it around your plate, occasionally managing to get a few pieces in your mouth. You wonder how long the two of you can manage to preoccupy yourselves with Christmas and food but you're satisfied with whatever means not talking about the more important things.