A/N: This chapter is named after 'Salvia Plath' by Teen Suicide.

The parts in italics are flashbacks, if you can't tell.

Campbell never fell asleep. Instead, he found himself watching as Frankie stirred around in her slumber every once in a while. It was relaxing to know that the girl he cared deeply about felt safe around him. He had never imagined this happening to him-at least not again. The idea of putting all of his feelings into one person wasn't something Cam wanted to do another time, but right now wasn't the time to fathom that. He needed to get Frankie home, just in case her father wanted to celebrate Christmas with her. He couldn't be selfish and allow her body to keep him warm for the rest of the night; he had always considered family something important. He didn't know if that fairly simple word was significant to Francesca Hollingsworth or not, but he had no desire to ponder on it. He did desire to get her home, and what person currently in Toronto didn't know where the mayor (actually, ex-mayor) lived?

He removed his arms from the girl, forcing himself out from the covers and away from his own bed. He pulled on his own clothes, which had been laying on the floor for hours now. He then noticed a few pieces of fabric that belonged to Frankie, which he ended up putting into his grasp as well. He flung the attire over his shoulder as he made his way to the opposite side of the bed, placing his arms underneath her legs and neck, and then picked up the tiny teenager with the amount of muscle he had. As he roamed throughout the hallway, he passed his room; the only room in the house he hadn't been in for years.

"Teach me how! Please, Justin?" A young boy, who had recently turned nine, hummed as he sprinted towards the bedroom next to his. Justin had heard this and swiftly hopped off of his bed, getting ready to slam the door in his brother's face.

He was too late, though. Campbell was already inside, begging for him to teach him how to properly skate on ice.

It was barely February and any nearby ponds had been frozen over. There was a light blanket of snow dressing the ground, and many more flakes continued to fall from the clouds above. This didn't seem to bother Cam, though. He wasn't going to stop bugging his elder brother until he was taught how to skate. Justin had promised him when he turned nine that he would demonstrate the skill, since that was the same age their dad taught him.

Justin wasn't particularly in the mood right then, but Mr. Saunders was busy at work, so it appeared he had no choice.

"Go get ready. I need to do a few things."

His hands never left the visible flesh that was on his wrists during their brief conversation, and that was something Cam wished he would've taken note of before leaving the room.

Cam didn't have any obvious struggles as he began to venture downstairs. Upon reaching the living room, he was able to notice a figure on the couch; this figure was clearly his mother. He sighed softly, continuing to make his way out of the house, being as silent as possible so he wouldn't wake the sleeping woman.

The keys were on a ledge as he got closer to the door. It was already unlocked and slightly cracked open, so it was easy for Campbell to get outdoors. It was freezing out, and he was surprised that the frigid weather alone hadn't woken up Frankie. He was able to lay her down in the backseat without disrupting her rest, though, and hurried to get into the driver's seat. He drove down the highway, paying attention to the small number of cars that passed him. Their lights flashed in his face, but it wasn't something he had ever minded. Cam was always fond of driving, and just cars in general. The feeling of rolling down your windows and going over the speed limit was a rush he couldn't describe. What if there was a hidden police car somewhere? What if another car came his way and he had to use his reflexes to spin out of their path? But tonight, he didn't do that as he drove towards the Hollingsworth household.

"I passed!" He announced as he bursted through the doors, the rest of the family settled into the living room.

Cam was the first one to plead for some sort of ride around the city. Justin agreed to take his younger, and closest brother, out for a ride before anybody else.

Sitting in the passenger's seat, Cam watched as the older boy operated the car. He yearned to be able to drive someday. Where would he go? At the age of twelve, he didn't know. All he was sure of was that he wanted to be somewhere more interesting; to do something with hockey; to be just like Justin. He was his role model and everything the boy aspired to be. No one was cooler than Justin Saunders, at least not to Campbell; no one would ever compare.

"Can we go for a drive every day?" He inquired as the car turned. Justin only chuckled, nodding his head lightly. He basically said anything to satisfy his younger brother.

"Will you teach me how to drive too?"

Justin nodded again, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket as one of his hands rested on the steering wheel.

He ended up fulfilling only one of those promises.

Frankie's desperate breathing was the first thing Cam heard when all of the flashbacks seemed to cease. He was quick to pull the car to the side, not entirely sure on what was going on with her. All he knew what that it was bad and being in the car wasn't helpful. She had sat up in the backseat by now and it was clear that she couldn't breathe.

"Get me out! Get me out!" Frankie chanted over and over again. She didn't know where she was, or how she had gotten into a car. She hadn't been inside of one since her only anxiety attack. Suddenly, the vehicle stopped, and somebody was pulling her out. The arms of this person wrapped firmly around her, keeping her body close to theirs. Their fingertips began to run through her hair as their voice reassured that she was okay; she was safe; nothing was going to hurt her. Frankie found it difficult to stand, and most likely would've fallen if it wasn't for the support of Cam. Cam was the one comforting her, right? She wanted to look up and see, but her brown orbs were clouded with messy tears. It didn't matter who it was right now, all that she cared about was that this wave of apprehension passed. Frankie filled her lungs with air, slowly exhaling. She tried to find the balance of breathing again, so once she got into the pattern again she was relieved.

"Keep breathing. You're safe." Campbell's consistent words eased her nerves. Frankie felt her limbs relax in his embrace. He never once questioned what had triggered this attack or mentioned the car to her, which was something she admired. Did he have his own days like this, or was Cam just that courteous? How did he know what to do unlike her own father? Why did she trust him more than her dad?

He picked her up again, carrying the girl to the hood of his car. Cam settled into it, placing Frankie in his lap. His hands continued to move through her hair, knowing this was a successful method in calming somebody down. He felt her body lean back into his and her breathing was becoming regular again; that was always a good sign. "We don't have to talk about anything." Campbell told her in a light tone. "Only if you want to."

At this point, Frankie knew it was Cam. Cam had forced her into a car. When? She wasn't certain, but she also couldn't blame him. He had no idea about her phobia of any sort of motorized object. She hated planes, trains, go-karts, boats, and most of all-cars. Cars were the one thing she couldn't even stand to look at. They were deadly, dangerous, and altogether terrifying. The more she thought about being in one only seconds ago, the more anxious she became. She wasn't going to freak out again, though. She was out now and able to breathe in the fresh air around her.

"You're probably cold. You don't have much on." Cam chuckled, glancing over the current attire Frankie had on. He slowly moved away from her, hopping off of the car. He went back into the vehicle, grabbing the extra clothes he had taken for her. He then returned to his spot, sitting next to Frankie. Once she received the items, she quickly put them on, instantly realizing how chilly out it currently was.

When the bare parts of her skin were covered, she spoke abruptly. "I can't stand cars."

Cam nodded his head in understandment. "We won't use the car then." He paused for a moment. "We can walk you home."

"Is that what you were trying to do? Get me home?"

He shrugged. "I thought that your dad might want to see you on Christmas.. I don't know.. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Frankie smiled in his direction. "Can I tell you something?" Without waiting for any sort of acknowledgement, she decided to continue anyway. "I stopped liking cars after Miles and my mom.. You know.." She trailed off, assuming that Cam was already aware. She had talked briefly about the event in therapy before and there had also been tons of newspaper articles surrounding the accident. "I was in it. I was fine, obviously, but I've only been in a car twice after that." It appeared that Cam was listening, so she didn't stop. "My dad made me get in one and I had this really bad panic attack, I don't even know… But he didn't know what to do, so he took me to the hospital. I didn't want to be put on any meds, because they would screw with my weed and all of that.. So I picked therapy. Tonight was the first time I've been in a car since that." After explaining all of that, Frankie felt as if a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She rarely talked about any of her experiences, and even though that hadn't been everything, it was close to enough.

Campbell moved his arms around the tiny girl, pulling her towards him once more. "And I'll say it again, we won't use cars." He felt the need to remind her. He would never want to make Frankie uncomfortable or purposely provoke one of her attacks, so it would be better to just avoid driving.

Frankie grinned up at the older boy, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thanks. Is there anything you want to get off your chest?" Of course, she wasn't going to force him to open up, considering he hadn't pressured her whatsoever.

Cam thought about it. He never spoke about Justin, or the past in general, ever. It was a topic he simply avoided and it wasn't as if any of his family members brought it up. He trusted Frankie; there was something about her that made him want to tell. Putting all of these emotions into a single being was petrifying and he didn't want to be like this; he didn't want to be so attached to this girl. Infatuation always led to distress and that was never something Cam handled well, which was extremely clear due to the state of his arms.

"I want to trust you." rolled off of his tongue, echoing against the roof of his mouth. He hadn't meant this in a bad way; he truly did want to inform her of his past. It was difficult to find the words. Also, it was ten times harder to simply come out and say all of the bad things in your life to someone you had only known for a couple of months. Granted, him and Frankie had grown overly close during this time period, but Campbell was still indecisive about letting her in. Looking at the girl in his arms and noticing her hurt facial expression, he decided to quickly speak again.

"I mean, it's not you. It's me." How cliche. He sighed deeply instead.

"Let me rephrase that. Most people that I like end up leaving me somehow." Cam paused to breathe. "Whether they die, just stop caring, hate me, or fuck up." He smiled gently at Frankie in an attempt to lighten the current mood.

"So you like me?" was the only thing she said in response, which erupted a genuine chuckle from Campbell.

"Yeah." He smirked.

"Okay, sorry, keep going?"

The boy laughed again, not taking her random interruption to heart. He continued with what he was trying to say. "I had this girlfriend in grade nine. It was only a few months after Justin died." Cam gulped as he saw the confused look on Frankie's face. "My brother." After that clarification, it suddenly went away, and she nodded for him to proceed. "We did a lot together, whatever, you know? I knew it wasn't going to last, I mean, it was just puppy love, I guess.. I don't know." He moved around his words, trying not to offend Frankie in the slightest. "She cheated on me with some guy. I didn't know about it for a few weeks after. It sucked, but I'm over it now. So, that's one of the reasons I don't trust most people. Well, there's more, but it doesn't matter right now." Cam moved Frankie out of his embrace, getting off of the car hood, holding his hand out for her. "Let's walk back to my house. I need to show you something."

The walk was longer than it should've been, considering the two teens were dreadfully exhausted. The piles of snow covering unshoveled sidewalks didn't help either. They eventually made it back to the Saunders' home, though, and Cam led Frankie back upstairs. But, this time, they went into a room that wasn't nearly as far down the hall; it was right by the steps. Frankie had seen it every time they passed last night, but never thought of questioning the closed door.

Suddenly, it was open, and Cam was waiting for the girl to go inside before following her himself.

He flicked on the light, revealing a room with pure white walls. On the left side, there were shelves covered with glass duck models, and a bed with blue sheets on the opposite area. Cam had taken note of Frankie's interest in Justin's duck collection, which made him laugh underneath his breath. He had always found his obsession with the animal strange, and that was why he couldn't stand the creature today. He hated almost anything that made him think of the older boy.

"He loved ducks. It was really weird. I never got it." Cam stated before plopping down on Justin's bed, acting as if none of this phased. Although, he hadn't been in his brother's room since the middle of grade nine. No one else dared to even touch the wood on the door, but Campbell had been brave enough to enter the territory one last time. He hadn't anticipated to be sitting in here tonight, or ever again, to be perfectly honest.

Frankie turned to look at Cam, raising her eyebrows at the boy. "Can I, uh, sit or..?" She asked, running her hands through her hair uncomfortably.

Nodding his head, he patted the spot on the mattress next to him, encouraging Frankie to sit next to him. She did just that, being cautious not to mess up the bedspread on his deceased brother's bed. Cam had noticed how she delicately moved her body onto the area and he couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry. It's not like he's going to get mad if you move the blanket or something." As he spoke, he picked up a pillow from the top of the bed, tossing it in Frankie's direction. She caught it, forcing a brittle smile, and then glanced down at the object now in her lap. He seemed to be okay with Justin's passing, which was something Frankie could see passed. She wasn't going to call him out on this, though, because it wasn't her place to do so.

"He died there." Campbell announced abruptly, pointing at the closet. "I bet part of the rope's still in there." He slid off of the bed, walking over to the door that would open the closet. He pulled it away, revealing clothes that hadn't been worn in years. The last remains of a rope was still wrapped around the pole which held unoccupied hangers. He had completely forgotten about Frankie, who was still seated on the bed and observing his actions.

His fingers found the rope, gently running across it. It hurt slightly, due to the fact it had a rough texture, but he didn't find himself minding it. After staring at the object that ended Justin last few breaths, he sat down in the closet, pressing his back against the wall. He caught Frankie's gaze and he could feel water swelling up in his brown eyes. "This is how he felt." Cam muttered underneath his breath, breaking eye contact with the girl to pull his knees up to his chest and wrap his arms around them. In that moment, he wanted to be like his elder brother; he wanted to be gone. He was sick of feeling this way and it didn't seem as if any of it was going to stop. He had to be strong every day and it was becoming sickening. There was no reason for living anymore. His head fell into his lap, not wanting to show that he was beginning to cry. Footsteps neared the closet, but Campbell paid no attention to them.

Frankie wasn't certain on how to comfort the boy, but she knew she couldn't have stayed on the bed. He was obviously distraught about all of this, and even though she had been able to put together bits and pieces, she was still confused. Why hadn't he realized that looking in the closet would've triggered him? It wasn't something she could scold him about, considering his current state. She moved into the closet, feeling eerie about being in here, but tried not to focus on that. She sat down next to Cam, resting her head on his shoulder, and enveloping him in her embrace. "You don't have to end up like him." She whispered softly, staying close to him.

He lifted up his head and returned the action, moving his arms around her as well. "I don't want to."