Ilessthree: Well, you'll at least find out who's at the door this chapter. But...you won't find out who wrote slut on the wall. Cause I'm mean and like making you all wait in agony. -innocentsmile-
YDPP: Yeah...what happened to Cameron is much bigger than it seems. -evillaugh- Seriously. And yes. Wilson and Cameron are totally both hustlers. Hahaha. I would so play games with them. Preferably strip poker. -snickers- I didn't just type that. Nope! Anyway! Happy-dances are not creepy! I was doing one all day. And...I also hope you didn't fail! Eesh! Oh yeah. Thirteen/Chase showdown...I can see it 're gonna break out the scalpels and settle things like doctors. j/k j/k
Nameless: Seriously. I leave it at that. And even meaner...I harass you with it thru aim! Go me! I ain't telling you who wrote it. Nope! You signed off before I gave out some spoilers! House? Sympathetic? He /does/ feel bad...but he /is/ House. Like you said. And I haven't decided what Cam got for 13. Baha.
Agajda: Now that I have an epic plan for this story...I don't think I could leave it without at least letting you all know what happened to Cameron. Not by means of being graphic...but who hurt her. I'm glad you like it...and that the POV is working out. I've never enjoyed writing something not in 3rd person so much. It puts me much more into it while I'm writing it and I hope it puts you all much more into it while reading.
Less than 13: Being sadistic is fun. Which totally randomly reminds me...someone called me insane the other day while we were walking. And there was this long moment of epic silence before I was all in this soft voice, "Being insane is fun." I swear...they jumped like 2 feet away from me. Ha. It'll be awhile till this fic ends. I have lots in store. It'll be longer than WBND. Much longer, probably.
Jess (Part 1): Sorry if my constant emotion switching is confusing. Sometimes I feel like my chapters are bipolar. I don't mean to confuse people. I just want a good amount of several emotions in each chapter. I'll give you a part 2 for your longer review. I always go in order.
Eva: I'm glad you like it!
Kj: Glad you're happy I'm continuing!
Kills: Bahaha. You probably won't guess who hurt her. And I'm glad you like I switched it up a bit and have Remy caring for Cam. When I first started this fic, I had plans to make Remy be the one who was raped. Something changed my mind though.
Jess (Part 2): You're glad you get more me? I'm flattered. Most people try to get rid of me. Haha. And actually...you all did bully me into staying. I started getting epic emails/reviews...and ended up crying so hard I had to call one of my friends to calm me down. Seriously. As pathetic as that is. - There will be more happiness to come...even if it doesn't seem like that now. And aren't House and the Grinch virtually the same? -wink- - Yes, he is fond of Cameron. But (at least in my fic) he doesn't quite know how to handle the situation, simply bc he does care for her. And /thank you/ for reviewing!
Audio: Aw. Thank you!
Katchel: Don't die. If you die, you won't be able to keep reading. And no. I can tell you right now that the word on the wall was not written by House. As much of an ass as he is, he cares for Cameron too much to do something like that.
Amazon: We're getting snooooow! Vanamo encouraged me to brag about that. Sadism pwns. It's amusing watching you all whine about how mean I am. Hahaha. All I can say is that House was really stalking Cuddy at the mall. Seriously. You're all reading too much into that! Haha. Bah. I want to hug Cam as I write. /fail
Ina: No need to be sorry!!!! But you're forgiven anyway! Hey...we're not even! I'm the writer! I'm not supposed to be curious! Anyway...yeah. This whole thing actually started to stem from an idea separating hospital/home. Tho...I can't really explain it. If I put it into play, you'll see what I mean. I'd just confuse you now. Chase is dumb. And Remy is certainly charmed by Cameron. Who wouldn't be? - You're the only person I know to not be happy about being right! And dude...okay...your review kinda scared me. I think you read my mind. You'll see why when you read the chapter. And yes! Feel free to ruffle my hair. Haha.
Roronoa: Yay sadism! I'm happy you all think I'm mean. Seriously. I enjoy it. Lol. I try. So many questions! That I refuse to answer 'cause I'm sadistic like that. Have fun guessing!
Lollilops: I'm glad you like it! And that I can make you all think things and then change them. Bahaha.
Wesley: Don't throw your laptop. You might need that to read my updates. That reminds me of this LOST cartoon I always watch. Where the guy is making a theme song and at the end he ends up shooting his laptop. And it's all-
Guy:Can I get a computer back on expenses?
Guy 2: No.
Guy: Could you call up the IT guy?
Guy 2: You're not an employee here.
Guy: Yeah. Would rebooting it get rid of the bullet holes?
Guy 2: Seriously doubt it.
Guy: Maybe I can find out how to fix it on the inter- I can't get the internet. It's broken.
Just thought I'd share that. LOL. So if you damage your laptop due to my fanfic...you won't get a new one. xD
Holy review! Keep 'em coming! Haha.
Thirteen's POV:
"It's okay. It's okay." They're the only words that come to mind and you barely even realize you're saying them. Cameron is curled into a ball beside you sounding like she's choking on air, someone is still knocking on the door, and you're overwhelmed.
"Remy!" A female voice yells from the other side of the door. "What the hell happened to the wall?!"
You let out a sigh of relief and close your eyes. "It's just my landlord." Pulling away from Cameron's grasp, you sit up and crawl over her. Making sure you don't step in the pool of vomit now soaking into your carpet, you get to your feet and walk swiftly to the door. It's hard to leave Cameron alone crying on the couch, but if it was the person who hurt her that wrote on the wall then it needs to be dealt with as soon as possible.
The mess of red hair you see through the peephole confirms your suspicions that it is indeed your landlord and you open the door then slip out and shut it behind you. "Rebecca!" You practically want to pounce on her right there in the hallway because you're relieved it's her and not anyone else. Gripping the doorknob, you lean your head back against the door.
"Late night last night?" she asks, raising her eyebrows as she stares down at your legs.
It isn't until you notice what she's looking at that you realize there's vomit down the side of your pants leg. You figure Cameron probably threw up on herself and it got on you when you switched positions with her, which meant you were both going to have to wash up and change clothes.
"Hello? Earth to Remy!" Rebecca crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at you. "What is wrong with you these last few days?"
"I have a stalker," you lie. You don't want to tell her about Cameron because you figure Cameron wouldn't want you to spread the news even to a stranger. "And I guess he found where I live." You motion to the wall. "Look, I'm really busy right now. Can you please take care of it?"
"You owe me, Remy," she warns you and shoots you a glare.
"I know. I know." You run your fingers through your hair. "Not right now though." You grab the bag Cameron dropped in the hall then go back inside and lock the door behind you.
"R-Remy, I c-can't breathe." Cameron is sitting up again, arms wrapped around her chest. "It h-hurts."
"I know it does." You place the bag on the floor and walk over to her, resuming your seat behind her. She's a mess. It's now you notice she threw up on her lap and down the front of her pants. She sounds like she's panting and her constant sniffling isn't working because her nose is still running. Holding her against your chest, you fight the urge to kiss her cheek in attempt to comfort her. "It'll stop. Just breathe with me."
"I'm sorry," she chokes, uncrossing her arms and allowing you to hold her tighter. "I - I…"
"I don't know what you're sorry about, but whatever it is, we'll deal with it later," you mumble in her ear. "Right now, all you need to do is breathe. One step at a time." You take a deep breath and let it out. Teaching something to her as natural as breathing comes across as tedious and overwhelming. The only way you know how to show her is to have her imitate you. "Okay?" You breathe again and relief washes over you when she manages to breathe with you. "Again." You take several more deep breaths before it doesn't seem like such a struggle for her.
You sit with her in silence for a few minutes, giving her a chance to just breathe and calm herself down. You're careful not to breathe too fast because she chooses to match the rise and fall of your chest with her own. "Can I help you get cleaned up?" you ask finally, using your thumb to brush a few tears off her cheek. "We can just jump in the shower quick."
"I don't want to get in the shower with you," she whispers, pulling away slightly. "You'll look at me."
"I've already seen you in the shower," you remind her. "It's not a big deal. We're both girls. I won't even look. We both need to wash off though."
"It is a big deal!" she exclaims. "I don't want you looking at me like that!"
"Like what?" you ask, completely at a loss. "I tho-"
"Like House said," she mutters and hides her face with her hands. "You saw me before because I forgot you were bi."
"Oh," is all you can get out. Flustered, you let go of her and move so you're not behind her anymore. "Okay. I'll, uh, wash off with the kitchen sink. Sorry." You walk toward the kitchen, shoving your hands in your pocket.
"Remy," she calls after you, her voice think with tears again. "I didn't mean-"
"It's okay," you assure her. "Go get in the shower." You listen to her footsteps and aren't sure how to react. It's hard even for you to tell what you're feeling because you weren't expecting that. Stopping by the sink, you unbutton your jeans and slide them off, leaving them on the floor.
The sink water is burning hot by the time you're satisfied with the temperature. You realize you scolded Cameron already for trying to scald herself, but you feel slightly numb from her words. Numb and guilty. Maybe even a little angry, you decide. Unfortunately, you're not sure who or what you're angry at. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, you rip them off the roll then soak them in water before wiping off the spots where the vomit had seeped through your pants leg.
It's hard to believe it never even came to your mind that your sexuality might make her uncomfortable. Her words offended you, but you can't help but think it's your fault. You should have done the right thing and handed her off to Cuddy when you had the opportunity. Instead, now you think of yourself as selfish, trying to take care of her yourself. In a sudden burst of anger, you shove the dish-rack off the edge of the counter. The two plates in it shatter and you add cleaning the kitchen floor to cleaning the living room floor.
Cleaning can wait. Tossing the paper towels behind the sink, you place your elbows on the counter and lower your head to your hands. "Good job, Remy," you scold yourself. It sinks in that you actually liked being a source of comfort for Cameron. Feeling needed and depended on was a good feeling. Of course, you just had to ruin it though. You just had to fuck up. You can barely handle living yourself, let alone the responsibility of someone else.
For once in your life, you feel ashamed of your sexuality. You make a decision to keep your distance from Cameron because it isn't as if you can just suddenly decide you're not attracted to her or other women. It figures it's something you can't control that makes her uncomfortable around you. Feeling completely inadequate, all you can think about is how much you screwed everything up.
Lifting your head, you reach over and turn the water off. Taking your jeans with you, you walk back to your bedroom and toss them in the hamper. You consider putting on shorts because you're apartment is rather warm, but you settle for a pair of drawstring pants instead. Before closing your closet, you pull out the carpet cleaner then drag it to the living room to clean up the floor.
The loud noise it makes distracts you and you end up practically scrubbing a hole down through your floor. Maybe you should call Cuddy to come pick her up, you decide. It would be easier than making her uncomfortable. Cameron could go Cuddy's, you could take your tree down, return the gift you bought her, and continue with your life. The thought makes you feel miserable. You know if you do that, the Ecstasy in your medicine cabinet and Rebecca will both be calling your name. Everything could go back to normal with you enjoying the nightlife and picking up random women from the bar.
"What happened to the kitchen?"
You don't even realize Cameron is already out of the shower until you hear her voice. Looking up, you watch her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "What?" you ask, turning off the carpet cleaner even though you know what she said.
"I asked what happened to the kitchen?" she repeats, slowly running a hand up and down her arm. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "There are dishes broken."
"They fell off the counter," you answer. "You should go lie down." She's dressed in those damn reindeer pajamas again and you're pissed at yourself for still finding her adorable.
"I feel a little better now," she answers though her voice is wavering. "I was thinking we could put the candy canes on the tree. I'm sorry."
"Don't be." You drop the carpet cleaner brush on the floor and get to your feet. "You can decorate the tree. I'm going to clean up the kitchen." Walking past her, you try not to look at her.
"Do you need help?" she asks, following you. "I - I can get the broom. I can-"
"I got it," you say a bit harsher than you mean to. "I'll call Cuddy for you once I get the glass picked up."
"I said I'm sorry," she chokes. "I wasn-"
"Can we stop?" You ask, shooting her a look. "We don't need to talk about it." You turn and grab your broom, accidentally knocking over a picture on the wall with the handle. "Damn it." You jump back as the glass shatters.
"My throat hurts." She clears her throat but it sounds fake.
"There are drinks in the refrigerator," you reply. "I'm a little busy." Unhooking the dustpan from the broom, you kneel down and begin to sweep up the glass. Realizing the picture was never that great to look at, you put that on top of the dustpan to throw out.
"I need Tylenol," she replies. "I don't know where it is."
"You took Tylenol before you went to the mall," you reply. "It lasts twelve hours."
"I know, but I-"
"Cameron, you're trying to get attention." You glance up at her and frown then stand and dump the glass into the trashcan. You watch her out of the corner of your eye as she walks out of the kitchen then you set to cleaning up the broken plates too.
Cameron is sitting in front of your tree when you walk back into the living room. She has the bag of miniature candy canes the two of you bought at the store yesterday on her lap but she only put two of them on the tree. Clutching the bag with one hand, she's wiping away tears with the other.
Walking over, you take a seat beside her and grab a handful of candy canes to hang. After hanging three of them, you realize she's not really even paying attention. "You look tired. You should take a nap. I'll call Cuddy once you wake up."
Her face contorts and she hides she's crying with her hand as she gets to her feet, letting the bag of candy canes fall to the ground. "Whatever you want," she replies in a shaky voice before making her way back toward your bedroom.
"Right." You purse your lips together and stare at your tree for several moments. You realize she's probably thinking she can't do anything right, but you're feeling the same about yourself. Head starting to hurt, you get to your feet. "I'm going out!" you call after her. "I'll lock the door!"
When you don't get an answer, you grab your keys and walk into the hall. It takes triple checking the door to make sure it's locked and Cameron is safe. More than anything, you want to rush back in there and make sure she's safe yourself, but you don't. Instead, you walk down the hall until you get to the last door and knock.
"Figured you'd show up," Rebecca comments once she opens the door. "I just had this feeling that things weren't go-"
"Shut up." Needing to feel in control, you push her inside and crash your lips against hers, kicking the door shut behind the two of you. You need a release and knowing you can make someone feel good if even for a few moments provides an escape.