Nameless: Bahahaha. So...I officially enjoy teasing you on aim then seeing your reaction in your reviews. And...your poem was priceless. xD -sticks out tongue then runs-
Wesley: Aw. Wesley, you decided to become anonymous again? Well...being anonymous for the sake of being anonymous won't get you special mention. Ahaha. -hearts- My story comes with a disclaimer on my profile now. So...I can't be charged for broken laptops or bones. Haha.
Wonderous: Thank you!
YDPP: Well...I'm glad you enjoy reading the angst...'cause I enjoy writing it. Baha. And I'm not telling who the comment was from. Lol. Even if you beg, cry, scream, whatever else.
Amazon: Ah. The beach. Know that I'll spend this weekend outside with my sled/snowboard and snowboots! Too bad the tube got a hole in it from running my brother into a thorn bush last year. - I'd say I'm sorry about the story...but I'm not. -sticks out tongue- Send Rebecca to Cuddy? Haha. Nah. Cuddy can go get it on with House. I'd tell you not to feel sad...but if you were happy, I wouldn't be doing my job as a writer.
Kj: Yay for being addicted to my story! Huzzah! Glad you're liking it!
Ilessthree: Yes. Being sadistic, I must do this to you. It's in my job description as a fanfic author. --
Eva: Yeah. -pets Thirteen-
Roronoa: Aw. Don't be angry at either of them. Go take all your anger out on Rebecca!
Ina: Haha. Yeeaah. Thirteen kissed her and shoved her in a room just to usefully 'talk' to her. -wink- Sarcastic humor pwns. And remember...I have made no promises to make her and Cam and couple. Just sayin'.
Less than 13: Being insane is fun though! Last night...my brother and I drew on fake mustaches and had a Frexicanglish War with toy swords. (I should send you a pic. Bahaha.) Insanity is the best. And I'm subtly everywhere...which is much less scary than it sounds... Ha. I'm glad you're glad. xD
Ahhh...and special thanks to Vanamo and Wonderous 'cause they help edit this fic.
So. Here's my plan. This chapter now. The Christmas Eve chapt either very late the 22nd or early the 23rd and the Christmas one either very late the 24th or early the 25th. Anyway! Enjoy! You all are the best, btw.
Cameron's POV:
As you walk into Remy's bedroom, you try to will yourself to stop crying. The only thing you can think of though is how badly you just screwed everything up. After stealing one of her sweatshirts out of the closet, you crawl up onto the bed and curl up on your side under the blankets. Cuddling with one of her shirts isn't even close to cuddling with her. All of your nerves are completely frayed and soft sobs wrack your body. For awhile, you're convinced you might throw up again because your stomach still hurts like hell from getting yourself so worked up over everything.
Sleep refuses to come even though you're so exhausted that you can't even keep your eyes open. Your head hurts and you're afraid you're going to end up with a migraine. Everything feels like it's going wrong and most of it is far beyond your control. Curling up tighter, you bury your face against Remy's sweatshirt and just focus on breathing.
You can't believe what you said to her. It's hard to believe you even thought it let alone allowed the words to come out of your mouth. You've never been so ashamed of something you said in your entire life. After all she's been doing for you, hurting her feelings is the last way you want to repay her. A simple apology doesn't even seem like enough, but you don't know what else to do. Hitting the bed a few times, you try to get out the anger you have for yourself. It doesn't work and you curl your arms up over your head and just cry.
It's impossible to think of a time before this that you've been so distraught and dismayed. The only thing that even comes close is when your husband died. The range of emotions that came with grief was definitely overwhelming but it was nothing like this. This surpassed normal grief. Your mind is jumbled with thoughts that words can't even manage to convey.
It's at least thirty or forty minutes before you hear the front door open and Remy yelling that she's back. Some of the fear dissipates but only for a moment. It hits you that she's going to call Cuddy now and you want her to leave again just so you can have more time to figure out what to do. Only, you know you won't even bother trying to come up with a plan because you can't handle how selfish you are by staying.
You can hear her walking toward the bedroom but her footsteps stop before they get too close. Forcing your eyes open, you notice her hovering in the doorway looking at her cell phone. Her features are completely emotionless but her eyes tell an entirely different story. The look in her eyes is almost dejected and lonely.
"I'm going to call Cuddy now for you." Her voice is void of any feeling.
"I don't want to go to Cuddy's," you choke out before you can stop yourself. You're filled with trepidation as she dials the number on her phone then holds it up to her ear. "Remy, I want to stay here."
"Don't call me that," she replies, slouching sideways against the doorframe in a way that makes her seem exhausted.
You rub your hands together nervously. Even though Remy is younger than you, her certainty and control make you feel like a child. "Thirteen, I-"
"Stop," she warns and narrows her eyes at you as if she's angry, but you see right past it. It hurts you how bad you managed to hurt her feelings. "Dr. Cuddy?" she speaks into the phone. It's almost scary how aloof her voice sounds. "Could you come get Cameron?"
Closing your eyes again, you try to pretend like this is all just a dream and you'll wake up to Remy telling you everything is okay. Counting sheep in attempt to drift off, you tune out the rest of Remy's conversation with Cuddy. Listening to what time Cuddy is coming or bothering to think of packing your things isn't something you can care about right now when you're already overwhelmed.
It feels like you've gotten to a point where you're too tired to even sleep. Opening your eyes once more, you notice Remy already left the room. Needing to see her before you leave, you shakily sit up then get out of bed. After a moment of consideration, you hug her sweatshirt tightly for comfort and take it with you as you walk to the living room.
She's sitting on her couch with her face hidden against her hands but quickly lifts her head when she realizes you're in the room. She glances at you then faces the Christmas tree, her eyes following the train as it does circles around the base.
The bag you brought home from the mall is sitting near the door. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," you remind her quietly as you walk over to it. After a moment of digging around, you pull out a white, fairly large box from your gifts. "I want you to have this."
"I don't want it," she answers. "Take it and get your money back."
"I don't want my money back." You walk over and stand in front of her and offer her the box. "I didn't know what to get you." Letting go of the box with one hand, you lift your other hand to wipe at your eyes. "Please, take it."
"Just take it back to the store, Cameron," she answers, not even looking at the box. Sighing, she moves to stand but you step in front of her.
"My name is Allison," you remind her. "Please." You push the box toward her, trying to let her know you don't plan on returning it. "If you don't like it, I'll give you the receipt and you can take it back. I bought it for you. I want you to have it before I go. Even if you don't want it as a Christmas present, accept it as a thank you for letting me stay here or an I'm sorry I hurt you."
"You didn't hurt me." She takes the box and places it on her lap, just staring down at it.
"It opens up," you try to joke but neither of you smile. Sniffling quietly, you rub at your nose then sit down on the coffee table so you're facing her.
It feels like several minutes before she finally decides to open it. Carefully, she opens the top flap of the box and works around the bubble wrap as she pulls out the 13 inch high Thomas Kinkade City Sidewalks Glass Christmas Tree to match her little village. "My God, Allison, how much did you pay for this?" she asks, staring at it.
"Cost doesn't matter," you answer, not about to tell her you spent $200 on it. It would indeed make a beautiful addition to her village. The tree had four separate levels. Beneath each level of branches were miniature stores and people. "Watch," you comment as she puts it on the table. You push a button on the base and the tree lights up, starting with the star on top and working its way down through all the shop windows. The people begin going around in a circle and Silver Bells begins to play.
She traces her fingers around part of the base then sits back and places her hands on her knees. "Allison," she says slowly. Her cold, distant features soften and she begins to look almost as tired as you feel.
"I'm sorry if you don't like it. There was a stand selling things from Hawthorne Village and I thought about you." Then again, she's one of the only things you find yourself thinking about lately. You reach to turn it off but she places her hand over the button to stop you. Your fingers brush hers and you quickly pull away.
"It's beautiful," she replies, not taking her eyes off of it. She moves her hand to touch one of the layers of branches then pulls away. "I don't deserve this."
"Of course, you do," you answer. There's a knock on the door and you stare down at the floor as you grip the sweatshirt you're holding. Your chest tightens and you fight to remain calm, wanting to just stay with Remy.
"I'll get it," Remy says. She turns off the tree and stands. Her hand brushes against your arm but you can't tell whether it's be accident or on purpose.
Turning to watch, you feel a small sense of relief as she looks through the peephole before answering the door. Swallowing, you divert your gaze to the floor as Cuddy walks in. Your jaw quivers and you quickly clench it to make it stop.
"Go lay down, girls," Cuddy says first thing, seeming to be observing both of you. "You look exhausted."
"Can both of you just leave?" Remy asks. It appears as if she's trying to be emotionless again, but she's failing. "I'm going to go to the hospital soon."
"Not like that you aren't," Cuddy replies. "Get some sleep. I'm going to make the two of you something to eat."
You're happy to oblige. After a moment of considering the couch and the bed, you stand and walk back to the bedroom. If Remy doesn't want to join you, you'll just move to the couch. You hope she doesn't decide to take the couch just because you chose the bed though.
It's almost ten minutes later when Remy finally walks into the room. Looking rather grumpy, she walks over to the bed. "I'm just getting a pillow," she states, reaching for the one you're not using.
Grabbing her arm, you shake your head. "Stay here." Sliding your fingers under her shirt sleeve, you stroke her arm and furrow your brows when she looks away from you. "It's been a really long day already. Let's not fight anymore."
"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Seeming hesitant, she sits down on the edge of the bed and glances around the room. "I'm alright on the couch." She pulls at a loose string on the pillow and glances down at the floor.
"I didn't mean what I said," you tell her. "House was being an ass at the mall and his words got stuck in my head. I wasn't thinking and they slipped out. I'm sorry. You're the only person that makes me feel comfortable." You let go of her arm then pull the blankets back and pat the spot beside you.
Rubbing her forehead, she glances at the spot on the bed then moves to lay down. "If you want me to leave, I will." She moves so she's beside you and rolls onto her side so the two of you are facing.
"I don't want you to leave." You cover the both of you up then scoot close enough that your foreheads and noses are touching. She seems hesitant so you guide her arm to your waist then wrap her in a tight hug.
-----
The sound of a door closing snaps you awake sometime later and you quickly open your eyes, glancing around the room.
"Sorry," Remy apologizes quickly. "I didn't mean to shut it so loud." She walks over to her dresser and grabs a brush, running it through her wet hair several times.
"It's okay." Stifling a yawn, you sit up and run your fingers through your hair. "How long have you been up?"
"About an hour," she answers. "I got a shower then came to wake you up. Cuddy made soup and put it in the refrigerator."
"How long have I been sleeping?" you ask, glancing at the clock. "It's nearly seven."
"Three hours?" she guesses. "Four?"
Still tired, you pull your knees to your chest and rest your head against your legs. "Can we just go back to bed?"
"You need to eat," she replies.
"My stomach still hurts," you reply, shaking your head. Sleep is calling you, food is not.
"Because you threw up earlier and you haven't had anything all day besides a smoothie," Remy says. She puts the brush back down on the dresser and walks over to the bed then sits beside you. "Come on, Allison, please don't argue right now."
You realize that you're causing her a considerable amount of stress and she probably doesn't even feel well either. A new rush of guilt sinks in. Maybe she should have sent you to Cuddy's. Trying not to think that way, you nod and stretch then stand up. Remy gets up too and you follow her out of the bedroom, stopping in the living room.
"Where did these come from?" you ask, eyeing a few Christmas DVDs on the coffee table. Picking up The Grinch, you look it over.
"Cuddy brought them," she explains as she walks into the kitchen to heat up the soup. "She left a note that said to try and relax for awhile and she'll pick you up tomorrow if she needs to."
"Oh." Walking over to the DVD player, you study it for a moment to decide how to work it then kneel down and put the DVD in. "Can we eat in here?" Not waiting for an answer, you go back to the bedroom then return with all the blankets from the bed.
"What are you doing?" Remy asks, peeking in the room and watching you pile up blankets and pillows on the floor. "I have a couch, you know?"
"I know." You turn on the TV and skip the DVD to the main menu so you can just press play when she comes back in.
"Ok." She sounds unsure but lets you go and disappears into the kitchen again before coming back out with two bowls of soup. "What are we watching?" After handing you one of the bowls, she tries to adjust the blankets then sits down on top of them.
"The Grinch," you answer, snuggling beside her and hitting play. You cover the two of you up then balance the bowl of soup on your lap. "Maybe we'll go into work tomorrow with a better understanding of House."
Remy snorts and shakes her head with a slight smile. "You could be onto something." She adjusts one of the pillows behind her and slouches back against the front of the couch. "This is pretty comfortable. Why even have furniture?"
"Exactly." After eating a few spoonfuls of soup, you realize it makes you feel slightly better instead of worse. The movie starts and you stare at the screen for a few moments before glancing over at her. "Do you really want me to leave?"
"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if House's heart grew three sizes?" She stares at the TV and wipes at her chin as some of the broth escapes from her spoon and misses her mouth.
"Remy." You frown slightly, waiting for an answer.
Letting out a breath, she glances at you then looks down. After a moment of making a clinging noise by hitting her spoon against the side of her bowl, she shakes her head. "No." Her voice is quieter than you know she means it to be and maybe even a bit sad.
"Good," you reply lightly, shifting positions so you're leaning against her, "because I really like it here with you." Out of the corner of your eye, you notice her trying to fight a smile. Even if you do cause her a lot of extra worry, you're sure she likes it here with you too.