Less than 13: Naaah. Sweet ain't my style. I'm definitely all dark and twisty. It was hard to take pics while in the midst of fighting. Lol. Didn't wanna stab the camera. That woulda been uncool since it's rather new! Does an elevator crash sound better? And I'm ignoring your question because either answer could be considered spoilerish. Ha.
Ilessthree: I don't think I could switch to third-person. It'd seem...odd having it all in second person except for one chapter.
JB: You should go read it. And review it. Haha.
Agajda: So...what does your name stand for? I type it and I'm like, "Hm...I wonder what it means." Anyway! Glad you liked the ending!
Eva: Thanks! Glad you liked the role-reversal!
WrongObsession: I don't know how I'd be able to tell it from 2 POVs.
Roronoa: -snickers- Glad you thought it was funny. I felt kinda guilty hanging Frosty w/ Remy's suspenders. And...at least you have Kutner in my fic! Tho...probably not a lot of him. I know nothing about him...so I'm improvising!
Wonderous: I did hint before she cut herself when she hid the razors in her shower. But the cuts Cameron was talking about came from crashing into Frosty.
Vanamo: Elevator crash? I was watching something the other night (can't say what it was or it'd be all spoilerish) but it inspired me. It had a carcrash...but I suppose an elevator could work and it wouldn't be repetitive. I don't think I'm quite talented enough for such an odd writing style. I'd confuse myself and everyone reading.
Nameless: Gr. Your name didn't wanna highlight for me to bold it. It kept highlighting my paragraph to Vanamo with it. -fail- And I'll be waiting for that poem. Bahaha. It'll be an elevator if not a car. I write drama. Without incidents, I get bored and then don't write at all.
Kj: What? No death?! But I like writing deaths. Bahahaha. Actually, I like writing people's reactions to death...but same difference!
Ina: Well, I still don't trust you with Rebecca. Haha. You might pressure her for spoilers or something. Or put her through torture. Denial /isn't/ just a river in Egypt! It's a freakin' ocean! Ha. And like I told Wonderous, the cuts came from Frosty. I wrote the plastic made cuts from her wrist up to her elbow or something. Why do you want Rebecca?! -clings to her-
McG: Hope you don't mind I call you that. It's easier to type. And, yes, you found me! I tend to be invisible and quite sneaky. And I will be leaving FF once this fic is over. Sorry. I'm definitely not one of the best House writers or the best Cadley writer. -blush- Yay for making people cry! I enjoy getting reactions out of people. And Snow Patrol is amazing. My current obsession is their Up To Now album.
Amazon: Huh. Had to put an extra space bc your name didn't want to go to the next line. I had this moment of epic panic bc I thought I forgot you...but then I realized your name just wouldn't go down a line! I need accidents. Or I'll get bored and then I won't write...at all. It's happened to many many fics. I have an entire account full of unfinished fanfics.
YDPP: Elevator crash sound better? And yay! You loved it! -happiness- I think...I would cry if I spent Christmas without power. That'd mean I'd have to be social. Ew.
Seventh: Shhh. Don't tell him he's helpful. He might stop and just be an unhelpful ass. xD
MERRY CHRISTMAS (eve)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Reviews make great presents, btw. -winkwink-
Cameron's POV:
"Remy! It's Christmas! Come take your fucking present from my apartment now! All of my stuff is destroyed!" Rebecca's shrill voice is loud enough to wake the entire apartment building. Fortunately, it's going on noon and no one is probably sleeping except Remy.
You glance toward the door from your spot on the couch and put down the book you're reading. After a moment of hesitating, you get to your feet. "She'll be there in a second!" you call before walking hastily back to the bedroom. Finally having a reason to get Remy awake other than just for the sake of waking her up excites you. The morning was boring while she was sleeping and you enjoy her company quite a lot.
Remy is lying on her stomach on the bed with her injured arm stretched out to the side and a pillow over her head - presumably to block out the noise. She groans as you crawl on the bed beside her. "Five minutes."
"No five more minutes," you reply, wondering why you let her sleep this long to begin with. "It's Christmas. I want to spend the day with you. And your landlord seems angry."
"She's always angry." Stifling a yawn she attempts to push herself up with her injured arm but quickly collapses back down. "Ow. Damn it." Rolling onto her side, she yanks the blankets up over her head.
"Wake up!" You demand with a grin, bouncing slightly. "Come on, Remy. It's Christmas. You can't sleep all day!" You pause to think if there's any other way to wake her up then continue bouncing for a moment and shake her.
"You're going to make me seasick," she mumbles. "Wake me up at one."
"I'm waking you up now." You push her over onto her back and lay down next to her, attempting to pull the blankets away from her face. Her stubbornness is a bit cute. You finally get her uncovered then prop your head up with your hand and stare at her. It takes a moment but she finally opens her eyes and squints at you. "Hi," you say cheerfully.
"Hi." She attempts to look grumpy while you stare at her but finally cracks a smile. "Fine. God, I'm up." She sits to prove her point.
"Great!" You stand on the bed. "Your landlord was yelling at the door. Oh and I talked to Kutner earlier because I needed someone to stop by my mailbox. He stopped by to get my key and seemed disappointed you were still sleeping. I think he likes you." You chuckle as she glares at you. "Remy and Kutn-Hey!" You shriek as she grabs your legs and pulls you down. You fall right onto her lap, shocked by the fact you didn't freak out from being grabbed.
"Shhh. Sleep." Using her good arm, she pushes you so you're laying beside her then wraps you in a hug and closes her eyes.
"Come on," you groan in frustration, glancing toward the door. Turning your head, you rest your forehead against hers and watch her, trying to figure out whether she's tired or just being lazy. You stop talking, glad her eyes are closed so she won't realize you're staring. She's gorgeous and being with her gives you a warm feeling you don't get from Chase. It kind of frightens you so you dismiss the thought. "It's Christmas," you repeat. "I thought you were up." You reach over and tickle her side.
"Allison!" She gasps and grabs your hand then glares at you. "That isn't funny."
"If it wasn't funny, you wouldn't have laughed." She's comfy and you snuggle closer for a moment then glance up at her and pout. "Please, get up?"
"I am up," she answers and buries her face against your hair. "Definitely up."
"I mean up up." You have to admit, you're starting to think you could spend the entire day just snuggling in bed with her. Rolling onto your side, you stare at her a moment then twirl a lock of her hair around your finger. "Please?" Being able to lie in bed and be this close to her without jumping feels like a huge accomplishment. It's a relief to feel not so detached and terrified.
"Well, I am anxious to give you your gift." She opens her eyes and smiles softly at you, brushing your hair away from your face.
"You got me something?" Sitting up, you lean over her, supporting yourself with your arm. "You didn't have to get me anything."
"Yeah, well, you didn't have to get me anything either," she retorts. "So, we're even." She glances off to the side at your hand still playing with her hair and smiles slightly.
You grin. Out of the five love languages, you're more of a quality time person yourself but it's sinking in that she really enjoys being touched. "How is your arm?" you ask, glancing at it. "Frosty really did a number on you."
"It's fine," she answers. "He's a lot more violent than the cartoon shows. Fortunately, I know self-defense."
"I didn't know body slamming was considered self-defense," you tease her, earning yourself a playful slap on the arm.
"I shouldn't even give you your gift now," she jokes back, slowly pushing herself into a sitting position. "I could just leave it with Rebecca. I'm sure she'd be thrilled by that."
"Do I get any hints what it is?" You ask as you get to your feet and wait for her to get up. "I don't like surprises."
"A hint?" She runs her fingers through her hair to push it away from her face and gets up. "Well, Rebecca calls it Batman." Shrugging, she walks from the bedroom and toward the living room. "That's all I can give you."
"Huh." You wrinkle your forehead and try to fit the pieces together. It's referred to as Batman and it apparently destroys things. You follow her to the living room then plop down on the couch. "Give me another hint."
"No more hints. I'll be right back. Close your eyes." She stops by the door then slips on her shoes. "No peeking either."
"Fine." You place your hands on her knees and close your eyes, sitting there awkwardly. "This isn't any fun." The door opens and closes and you're forced to just wait. Not being able to see anything makes you nervous and you open your eyes again but clamp them shut once the doorknob turns.
"I want you to feel safe here," Remy says, walking back in and closing the door behind her. "So, I got you something special. Hold out your hands."
"What is it? A can of pepper spray?" you ask sarcastically. After a moment, you slowly stretch out your arms and hold out your hands. Whatever it is, it's too big to just fit in your hands and Remy ends up placing it close to your chest and wrapping your arms around it. For a moment, it's still and extremely fuzzy but then it begins to squirm and something cold nudges your chin. Your eyes fly open.
The Chow Chow puppy in your arms stares at you in shock for a moment then makes a yipping noise. It squirms more and begins attempting to lick your face.
You open your mouth to speak, but you're not sure what to say. The puppy has got to be the cutest thing you've ever seen. It's pure white except for two black marks that look like bat wings on either side of its nose. Eyes wide, you glance at Remy. She looks hesitant.
"You don't like him do you?" she asks, looking like she's trying to mask her disappointment.
"Like him?" you ask, glancing back down at Batman again. "He's amazing. I can't believe - I just…" You're at a loss for words and start grinning again. Batman whines and you press a kiss to his fluffy head.
"I'd figure he'd make you feel safer," she says. "Eventually, he'll grow and be better at protecting you. It'll make it easier to be on your own if we're working different hours. He was the only dog at the shelter fit for living in an apartment."
"Thank you," you whisper earnestly. Shifting so you're holding the puppy with one arm, you stand up and hug her tightly. "He's perfect."
Batman rests against you for a moment then barks and presses his nose to Remy's face, sniffing her. Placing a paw against her cheek, he attempts to climb out of your embrace and over to her.
"Awww. He likes you." You grin and pull him back, ruffling his fur. He playfully nips at your fingers then starts licking your hand.
"Stupid mutt," she mutters, fighting a smile as she rubs her cheek. "He's yours. Keep him out of trouble."
You place him on the ground and he quickly begins to explore the living room, sniffing around at every little thing. "He's so cute!"
There's a knock at the door and Batman immediately begins howling. He races down the halls then doubles back into the living room through the kitchen and back to the living room.
"He's definitely not shy. That's probably Kutner." It took you enough courage to answer the door for him earlier so you take a step back and wait for Remy to open it and let him in.
"It's plain to see you haven't been home for awhile," he comments when the door opens. He's holding a large stack of mail and a cardboard box. He attempts to walk inside but Batman grabs him by the pants leg and growls.
"No," Remy scolds, pointing a finger at Batman. The puppy cowers and whimpers, scurrying over to you and hiding behind your legs.
"Aw," you coo, scooping him up. "Poor puppy." You cradle him comfortingly and nuzzle your face against his fur. "Did Remy scare you?"
Kutner is chuckling and Remy slaps his arm. "Don't baby the thing," she warns you. "He'll become spoiled."
"That's okay." You grin and put him back down on the floor then walk over to Kutner and take your mail and the box, smiling as you see your mom's and dad's name on the return address. "Thank you so much. Do you want to stay for awhile?"
"Thanks but I have some paper work to do at the hospital," Kutner answers. "Wish I could though. Have a merry Christmas."
"You too." You smirk at the smile he gives Remy before he leaves and she shuts the door. "He likes you."
"No, he doesn't," she argues, rolling her eyes.
"You didn't notice the look he gave you?" you ask. "With the grin and the eyes." You laugh then sit down on the floor, placing your mail beside you and the box in front of you. "My parents must have sent this express or something to get it here before Christmas this year. It always ends up getting to me a week after the holiday."
Remy jumps teasingly at the dog, causing him to run circles around her feet. "I hid his leash and all the stuff he needs in the closet," she says, seeming to avoid the topic of parents. "I don't think I forgot anything. I got him a bed too, because he's not sleeping with us."
"Not even in the same room?" you ask, peeling some of the packing tape off the box. You struggle to get it open, wondering why your parents seem to Allison-proof everything they send you. "Do you have a knife?"
"Not even in the same room." She walks to the kitchen then returns with a steak knife and kneels down in front of you. "Here."
"Thanks." You take the knife for her and cut through the tape then pull back the cardboard flaps. There are two wrapped gifts inside, one labeled with your name and one that says '13'. "Here." You pull out hers and hand it to her.
"What's this?" she asks, taking it. Furrowing her brows, she stares at the nametag then looks at you in confusion.
"A gift," you answer. "I told my parents I was staying with a friend." You pull out your own and refuse to take her gift as she attempts to hand it back to you. "Open it."
"You should send it back," she replies, trying to force it back to you. "They shouldn't have sent me anything."
"You didn't want my gift either." Glancing at her, you tilt your head to the side. "They'll be offended if you send it back," you warn her. "They really will. My mom would cry." Turning your attention away from her again, you carefully unwrap your own gift. Your mom is the kind of person that always made you peel the tape off as carefully as possible and fold the wrapping paper and the habit stuck with you through the years. "Mm. Pumpkin Pie Spice," you announce, taking the lid off the candle and holding it to your nose. The scent almost makes your mouth water. Your dad made you a clay Nutcracker ornament.
Remy is still staring at her unwrapped gifts, arms crossed tightly across her chest. "They don't even know me."
"So?" You smile at her. "I'm sure they'd love you if they did." You watch her eyeing the gift. "Nothing is going to jump out and bite you if you open it," you assure her. You pick up your mail and begin to open all the Christmas cards you were sent. It hits you that the only things you saw Remy get for the holidays came from yourself and your parents.
"Ah, Mom," you mumble under your breath as you open an envelope from her. It contains a check and a note that states it's enough money for you and your friend to visit her over New Years. Somehow, you highly doubt you'll be able to convince Remy to meet your parents if she won't even open the gift they sent her.
Leaning to the side, Remy wiggles her fingers in front of Batman's face, causing him to get excited and attempt to attack her hand. She flips him gently to the ground and rubs his belly, roughhousing with him and causing him to start playfully growling.
"You're deflecting," you state, looking at her. "It's a gift. It's not a big deal."
"I know it isn't a big deal," she answers, continuing to focus most of her attention on Batman. "I just don't like gifts."
"That's too bad." You know you can't force her to open it and hope that eventually she'll get curious and open it herself. You place the wrapping paper, cards, and envelopes neatly back in the box then hang your ornament on the tree. "Can I put this in the kitchen?" you ask, picking up your candle and getting to your feet.
"Whatever you want," she replies simply with a shrug.
"Thanks." You take your candle to the kitchen and place it between the four burners on the stove. You open the kitchen drawer you last saw a lighter in and pull it out then light your candle. "Hey." You take a few steps backward and poke your head into the living room. "I should check your arm."
"Yeah." She nods and quickly gets to her feet, leaving her gift on the floor. Batman starts sniffing it though and she's forced to pick it up and place it on her coffee table where he can't reach. She unwraps her wrist on the way to the kitchen while trying to examine the cuts.
After retrieving the icepack from the freezer, you walk over to her and feel a few places on her wrist. "It's definitely not broken. The swelling has gone down." You place the ice on it and glance up at her as she grits her teeth. "Does it hurt a lot?"
"No." She stops clenching her jaw for a moment as if to prove her point.
"Is there a reason you're lying to me?" you ask calmly, looking at the cuts to make sure they aren't infected.
"Don't make assumptions just because you're pissed off I won't open the gift from your parents." She pulls her arm away and puts the ice on the table. After fiddling with the wrap for a moment, she begins to put it around her wrist again.
"And I thought House was a grinch," you mutter under your breath. You notice her look at you but she doesn't say anything. Immediately, you feel guilty. "Sorry."
"Forget it." Grabbing the ice, she places it against her wrist again. "I'm going to head to the hospital for awhile. Kutner was right when he said there's paperwork there."
Heart dropping, you look away from her. "House actually gave you Christmas off and you're going to the hospital anyway?" Spending Christmas alone would be miserable even with Batman for company. "Look, I'll send the gift back, okay? Just don't go into work."
"Why do you care so much that I open it anyway?" she asks. "You feel bad for me? Poor Remy? Her mother died and her dad doesn't give a damn about the holidays while my parents are Mr. and Mrs. Claus?"
"Yeah, I do feel bad for you," you reply in anger, placing your hands on your hips. "But not because of your parents. Because you're so insecure, you have to be jerk to hide it when you're vulnerable."
"Yeah, that's me," she says in a sarcastic tone. She makes a few ambiguous hand motions. "Insecure and exceedingly vulnerable. I'm getting dressed then going to work. Merry Christmas, Allison."
Pursing your lips, you watch her leave the kitchen. "Merry Christmas, Remy." Noticing Batman by your feet, you clench your jaw and pick him up. "I guess it's gonna be just us, huh?" you whisper and he cocks his head to the side at the sound of your voice. Letting out a long sigh, you bury your face against his fur. "I can't do anything right."
Batman wriggles around then manages to lick the side of your face and yips.
Forcing a smile, you hold him up so you can look at him. He looks like a giant cotton ball and you smirk. "Well, you don't care that I can't do anything right. We'll have a merry Christmas together." You smirk. "I bet you'd like a nice breakfast, wouldn't you? Me too." You put him on the floor and he follows you around the kitchen at your ankles.
Determined to block out thoughts of Remy, you turn on the radio and crank up the volume of the Christmas songs. Ironically, Blue Christmas starts playing.
------
Bored and upset that Remy never came home from work, you fall asleep with Batman on the bed around five in the evening. You wake up again around nine and wander toward the kitchen to get a glass of water.
"Hey," you whisper, noticing Remy on the couch. She has her back to you and is resting an elbow on the windowsill. The reflection of light flickering on her face catches your attention and you approach her from the side, noticing she's opened and is burning the candle your mom got her.
"Hey," she repeats, her voice a bit distant. She's watching the flame, tracing a finger around the glass rim of the candle.
Deciding you don't really need anything to drink at the moment, you walk over to the couch and kneel beside her. "You okay?" She's smiling slightly but at the same time looks like she might cry. She doesn't answer and you don't press the matter. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you watch the flame with her for a few moments then glance outside. "Look. Carolers."
She glances up at the children and adults standing outside a house diagonal across the street. Reaching around the candle, she pushes the window open and Silent Night begins to drift through the air. "I ruined your holiday, huh?" She stares at the carolers for a moment then looks down and rubs her head, letting out a long breath.
"A little bit," you admit. "But it's okay. There's still three hours left." You rest your head against the windowsill.
Batman climbs onto the couch and leaps onto the back of it, squeezing between you and Remy. He sniffs the candle then sneezes and almost blows out the flame. Tilting his head back, he howls and overpowers the voices of the carolers.
You scratch his back for a moment then glance over at Remy. She seems to be distancing herself from you and you don't like that because your days with her suddenly seem numbered. You figure after you visit your parents on New Years, you'll return home instead of back to her apartment. It's hard to help but wonder what she thinks about you going but you're afraid to ask her because you want her to want you to stay longer.