ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟜𝟙
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Every time I drifted off, my mind found a different way to wake me up. Sometimes it replayed Justin Deyes' face across the prison table and the other times, it played Cameron standing in our bedroom, asking me one painfully simple question.
Why? My brain never bothered answering him. I rolled onto my side before the next thought could finish itself.
The room was still dark, but the curtains kept the first hint of morning trapped outside.
For a brief, selfish second, I just listened to the quiet rhythm of someone breathing beside me, the AC turning on.
It was peaceful. Peace had started making me nervous.
I turned my head and Cameron was still beside me. Thank goodness for that.
Some part of me had started expecting to wake up one morning and find his side of the bed completely empty. Most likely because he'd decided he'd had enough of me.
That fear sat somewhere beneath my ribs now, refusing to leave.
I watched him for another moment before slowly reaching beneath the blanket, my fingers hovering uncertainly before I lightly brushed against the back of his hand.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look toward the ceiling instead.
Today was a brand new day.
Maybe today could be better. Today I could stop making everything worse.
My thoughts stopped abruptly as Cameron shifted beside me. His breathing sounded a lot different.
He cleared his throat twice. A deeper sound followed, rough enough that my eyes immediately opened.
I frowned. Something about it didn't feel right.
One arm rested over his stomach while the other remained tucked beneath his pillow. Then, without opening his eyes, he quietly pulled the blanket a little higher.
A shiver ran through him.
Why was he shivering?
He pulled the blanket back before sitting up slowly, one hand rubbing over his face.
"Hey, Dixie," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.
"Morning." I replied.
He offered me a small smile, before reaching over, taking my hand and squeezing it.
"I'll be downstairs."
I watched him leave the bedroom without another word. Footsteps fading down the stairs.
I stayed sitting there for another minute.
Funny how quickly a person could start missing things they'd once taken for granted.
I even started to miss those stupid hair scratches he gave me whenever we watched a movie together. Nonetheless, I don't think my scalp had ever felt better.
I forced myself out of bed because certainly standing around feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to fix anything.
~
The shower helped. Quite a lot, actually.
It gave me somewhere to hide.
Steam blurred the mirror by the time I finished getting dressed, and for ten whole minutes I didn't have to look myself in the eye.
That was a good thing. I would not want to be looking back at Dixie West right now. I failed that perfect version of myself.
I couldn't imagine how disappointed past Dixie would've been of current Dixie.
Hell, I would me mad at me too, Cameron.
I tied my hair into a loose puff before heading downstairs.
Perhaps I could make breakfast. Eggs, toast and fruit. Nothing too far outside of my expertise.
That was something normal married couples did, right?
Maybe if today started normally...
The thought died the second I stepped into the dining room. "Cameron?"
He sat at the table surrounded by stacks of papers. Again. His laptop glowed beside an empty coffee mug, dozens of browser tabs spread across the screen.
His head rested against one hand. It was completely still.
"Cameron?" I repeated.
He still didn't answer me. A knot formed in my stomach.
That wasn't like him. Nothing like him at all. Usually, before I'd even finished saying his name, he'd already be looking up.
I crossed the room.
"Cameron." This time I reached his chair.
He finally lifted his head. "Hey."
His voice came out hoarse- really hoarse.
"Are you okay?" I couldn't help but ask.
He blinked once. "Mhm."
Damn liar.
I only knew that because his answer came a second too late. I reached down and brushed the back of my hand across his forehead.
My breath caught. "Oh my goodness."
He was burning. I had to physically jump back from how hot his head was.
"Cameron."
"What?" He looked mildly confused by my expression.
"You're on fire."
"I'm fine." He cleared his throat roughly.
"What? Go check your temperature and say that again."
He reached for another sheet of paper. "I just need to finish going through these."
I gently pulled the papers away from him.
"Dix." I looked up at me.
"No."
He reached for them again. "I need these."
"No! You need to stop. You're practically a space heater."
He sighed, leaning back in the chair, his head going back. "I've just been outside a lot."
"Cameron." I sat on the chair beside him, studying his face more carefully now.
His skin had that faint red flush I'd somehow missed from across the room. His lips looked dry, and even his breathing seemed heavier than usual.
"How long have you felt like this?"
"I don't know."
"That's not an answer." I closed my eyes.
"A day."
"A day?"
"Maybe. I don't know, I'm estimating."
I stared at him. "You've had a fever for a day and didn't tell me?"
"I didn't think it mattered. I've got bigger things to worry about than a cold."
"Cameron, you don't even know if it's a cold." My jaw tightened.
"I'm fine."
I walked back over and placed my hand against his cheek. "You spent days trying to save everyone else...let me take care of you for a little while."
He didn't answer to that.
Gosh, it only made me feel worse.
I reached for his wrist, checking his pulse almost automatically. His body was working overtime.
He watched me do it. "You're quick."
"Someone has to be."
"Dix no, stop." His voice softened as he pulled away from me. "I don't have the time to be sick."
I stared at him in pure awe. He would've worked until his body physically forced him to stop. Judging by the way he looked, I could tell it already had.
I squeezed his wrist gently before looking him straight in the eye. "You're done."
"You're bossy." A tiny smile tugged weakly at the corner of his mouth.
I hated how he ignored what I said.
"I'm about to become much worse."
"I was afraid you'd say that." Even exhausted, he tried to smile.
It barely lasted a second before he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as if simply sitting upright had suddenly become exhausting.
Cameron pulled his wrist gently from my hand. "If I stay home today, that's another day nobody's looking."
"Everyone else will still be looking."
"Yeah, I should be there."
"You can barely keep your eyes open. You have a fever."
"I'll survive. I've been more tired than this. This is nothing."
"I know you'll survive," I said quickly. "That's not the point I'm trying to make here."
He leaned back in his chair. "I'm fine."
The words were becoming unbearable. I stood abruptly, walking into the kitchen before I said something I'd regret.
The kettle clicked on.
Tea.
He always drank tea whenever he felt under the weather. Not that he'd admit he was under the weather.
I stared at the kettle while the water slowly began to boil. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.
When I returned, I set the mug carefully beside him. Steam curled between us.
He looked at it before smiling slightly at me. "You didn't have to."
"I'll help," I said quietly as I sat in my seat again.
He frowned. "With what?"
"Everything. The posters."
He shook his head.
"No."
"I'm telling you, I can help."
"I said no," His voice remained gentle. "I don't want you worrying about all this. You've got enough on your plate. I can handle it."
"I don't want to stress you any more than I already have."
Stress me?
I look at his untouched tea, then at all the papers of clues around him.
"You can't keep doing this." I sigh.
"I'll be alright."
"No you won't."
"You won't," I repeated, my voice cracking now. "You're barely sleeping, you fall asleep at the table, you drink coffee instead of water."
He chuckled once. The sound lasted less than a second before another cough interrupted it. He covered his mouth.
I watched his shoulders tense. When it passed, he immediately reached for another file almost as if nothing had happened.
Like coughing hard enough to bend over was normal.
I couldn't do it anymore.
"Cameron..."
He looked up. My vision blurred. I hadn't even realized tears had started falling.
His expression changed instantly as the paper slipped from his hands.
"Dix?" He pushed his chair back. "What happened?"
I shook my head.
He frowned harder. "Dixie, why are you crying?"
I tried answering, but nothing came out. Another tear rolled down my cheek. Suddenly I couldn't stop.
"Cameron..." I whispered.
He was already kneeling beside my chair despite clearly feeling awful himself. One warm hand found my knee.
"I can't..."
"You can't what?"
"I can't watch you do this."
His eyebrows pulled together. "I don't understand."
"Cam, I stood there," I whispered, struggling to breathe through the tears. "I watched them lower Jordyn into the ground."
He didn't interrupt.
"I know Molly's alive." My voice shook violently. "I know she is. We're going to find her."
"But every single time you leave this house looking like this, I'm terrified."
I wiped my face roughly. "God forbid, what if something happens to you too?"
His eyes widened just slightly.
"I can't..." I laughed bitterly through the tears. "I can't lose another person I love because they refused to take care of themselves."
"I won't." His entire expression softened.
"You don't know that."
"I do-"
"No, you don't!" The words came out louder than I intended.
I tried calming myself down before I got too anxious.
"I've heard people say that before, they all thought they had more time. Just look at my parents."
My parents had died a few years before Jordyn was born. The doctor said it was something about their stress levels.
I always thought of it as working to their grave.
I promised myself I wouldn't be like them...but every new promotion was tempting, and every time I won a case, I felt myself working harder and harder.
Work was like a drug.
It only got worse after Jordyn died.
The kitchen fell completely silent.
"I know your sister needs you." I looked back at him. "I know she comes first right now. So please let me help."
"I'll put up every poster, I'll drive to every neighborhood. I'll help your parents. I'll do anything. I promise you I'll help find Molly."
I reached for both of his hands. "But please..don't.. make me watch you disappear while we're trying to bring her home."
Cameron stared at me for a long time.
"Cameron." I said, hoping to get a response
He sighed quietly. "I just need some rest."
"Like, right now."
He rubbed his forehead. "Dixie., I've wasted enough time already."
"No, you haven't."
"Every hour matters."
"I know every hour matters!" My voice cracked so sharply it startled me.
He stared at me.
I wiped at my face roughly. "I'm sorry."
"But Cam..you keep acting like your body doesn't matter."
"It doesn't."
My head snapped up. "What?"
"It doesn't matter right now." He looked away.
I genuinely couldn't believe he'd said it.
"My sister is missing. How am I supposed to stay home because I have a fever?"
"Because you're sick!"
"People are out looking for Molly, I don't need to lie in bed."
"You might if you collapse!"
"I won't."
"You've ignored every symptom. Now you're sitting here burning alive telling me you're fine. Come on, Cam. That's bull."
He finally looked at me. "Dixie, I don't think you get it. I'm her brother."
"I know."
"I don't get to stop."
"You don't get to kill yourself trying!"
Seriously, Dixie? Why don't you ever tihnk before you say stuff like that? I cover my eyes, wanting to disappear in a hole.
He swallowed. "Dixie..."
I backed away. "I can't."
He reached for me, I stepped back again.
"I can't watch you do this." I told him.
"What? I'm not doing anything."
"That's the problem! You'd rather make me watch you slowly destroy yourself."
"I never said that." His expression fell.
"You don't have to. I can see exactly what you're doing."
"I'm trying to keep moving." His voice got irritated.
"No! What you're trying to do outrun your grief and eventually your body is going to decide for you."
He didn't answer. In the end, he knew I was right.
"I can't do this." Another tear rolled down my face.
"I cannot sit here and watch another person I love disappear because they thought they could carry the world by themselves."
I couldn't breathe in this atmosphere. It felt like the walls were squeezing in on me. I turned.
"Dixie."
I walked away, climbing the stairs.
"Dixie."
I reached the bedroom.
"Dixie, wait!"
The door slammed, then the lock clicked.
The silence was unbearable. I slid down the bedroom door until I hit the floor.
Finally, I let myself come undone. I sobbed.
I buried my face in both hands.
I wasn't angry at Cameron. Never that I was terrified.
I knew Cameron far too well than most people thought they did- if he thought sacrificing himself gave Molly even a one percent better chance he'd do it without hesitation.
That thought hollowed me out completely
~
I don't know how long I'd sat there. Time had become meaningless.
Eventually a quiet knock sounded at the door.
"Dixie?" I closed my eyes.
Cameron knocked again "Dix, I know you're awake in there."
Silence.
"I'm not leaving." I pressed my forehead against my knees.
"Okay, that's alright. I wasn't expecting you to. I'm sorry."
I didn't really have it in me to talk right now.
Another minute passed.
"I'm really sorry, " His voice sounded tired. "I shouldn't have said my body didn't matter."
"That wasn't fair to you, or me"
"I know why you're scared."
A lump formed in my throat.
"I know. I guess I've been thinking about Molly so much that I forgot someone else was scared too."
I squeezed my eyes shut as he spoke.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you feel alone. I don't know how to stop, you know? It's kind of crazy when your sister goes missing."
"I love you. You know I love you so much, right?"
"I know I've been distant, hurting. But I miss you. I miss talking to you, I miss hugging you."
"I don't like sleeping next to you and pretending we're okay."
"I can't promise you nothing bad will ever happen to me. I wish I could."
"I'll drink the tea, I can rest. I'll even call my doctor if that's what you want." He rested his forehead gently against the other side of the door.
"I don't ever want you sitting on the other side of a door thinking you're losing me."
"I love you. So, so much."
"I, uh...could you open the door? I really want to see my wife."
~