Cammie & Kurt: Heart to Heart

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

Kurt, concerned about not seeing Cammie out and around checks on her and finds her in a very confused and distressed state...

Jean had stopped her from running off right there, right when Jean-Paul had woken up. But it hadn’t quashed the idea completely. She could’ve not punched him. But he hadn’t stopped pressing buttons and kept coming in closer. She didn’t have any other reaction on file for that.

She had cleaned up her room, made sure things looked like before she got there, leaving the laptop and the phone neatly on the desk. Her eyes were red and puffy, making her look like a drowned rat. She had packed her bag with a few of the new clothes, but the rest were neatly folded and put in the drawers. She felt like she didn’t belong anywhere.

Bag on her shoulder, she took a deep breath as she left her room. This wouldn’t be the first time she had trekked through snow. Even if she came back in a bit, she didn’t think she could stay here right now. She looked at the sign she had put on her door and her lips twisted.

“Three months, longer than I thought,” she muttered.

"Are you going somewhere?" came a quiet voice from just behind her. Someone, evidently, had noticed that she hadn't been coming out even to go to the gym.

The idea of someone coming to check on her was novel to the point where she couldn’t quite get the shock off her face when she turned around, wiping her eyes quickly. “Um. Yeah,” it was likely he hadn’t heard about Jean-Paul, “I fucked up,” she said simply. “I really… it’s not safe for me to be anywhere.”

He had something of a protective feeling for her, since Boston, and he frowned genuinely on hearing that. "Something happened? Would you tell me what it is?"

“I hit Jean-Paul,” she still didn’t bother with his last name. Her French was not even worth making the attempt. “He almost died. I don’t belong with people. I never did.” Not a freak like her.

"You belong with these people", Kurt said quietly. "And accidents happen, even if they are not entirely accidents. You are not the only one here who has harmed another mansion resident - and been forgiven for it."

“He wasn’t breathing,” Cammie said, starting to cry again, “I almost killed him. He wouldn’t leave me alone because he said he wanted to help and I almost killed him! How do you forgive that?”

"Because", he told her firmly, stepping forward, "you are sorry for it now. You lost your temper, you struck out, and now you understand what you did. That makes it less likely it will happen again."

“No, that’s what I do. I get angry. I hurt people. People get hurt. They get sick. I can’t kill someone like that again. It’s not like a fight… it’s… I didn’t mean to, but it doesn’t matter he still almost died, Kurt! I can’t do that again,” she was crying now. And felt like an idiot for it.

"What do you think will happen if you leave here?" he asked, gently but not giving an inch. "Do you think you will be able to avoid it forever?"

“I don’t know!” she admitted. “I don’t like killing people. And all the running in the world, all the fancy words, all the I’m sorries, don’t change the facts when someone’s dead. Or when they’re sick.”

"Jean-Paul is not dead, and he has recovered from worse than this before." He looked at her directly. "Stay, Cammie. Give yourself a second chance."

“This was my second change. Third chance if you count the guy in Houston. Or if you count people I hit and ran away from without seeing if they were okay,” the streets were a nasty place. “I can’t do this again,” she said, sobbing.

"Cammie..." He reached for her without a second thought, seeing only a young girl in need of consolation. "It is my belief that there should be no limit to chances, as long as a person means to use them well."

She didn’t punch Kurt. The thought didn’t even cross her mind. She generally didn’t let people touch her for a lot of reasons, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to be touched. In that respect she was a normal kid. “I’ve screwed up so much. He… Jean-Paul was just trying to help he found out ‘bout something from Callie who found it out when she went home last weekend,” she rambled. “It’s really bad. She only heard the stupid version of it though…” Beating someone with a shoe.

“But he wouldn’t stop asking about it and he got in too close and I didn’t tell him to back off and I just hit him and…” she paused for a breath. She was talking about what happened to Jean-Paul, but her mind was on what had kept her from sleeping for days.

"You reacted badly", he finished. "As I said, you are far from the only one here to have done that. And good intentions do not mean Jean-Paul went about things well."

“I can’t sleep and he didn’t back off. He should’ve just backed off, I can’t even think straight right now and he was all saying that I had to tell him what happened and that I wasn’t in trouble,” it sounded ludicrous from her end, but she couldn’t stop rambling.

"When did you last get any sleep?" Kurt wanted to know, taking in the red eyes, the agitated rambling, and not liking what they told him.

“I… don’t know, not since Callie brought the flier…” Cammie said shaking her head. “I… it’s stupid, but having nightmares.”

"I know sleeping pills will not help you", he started carefully, "but have you considered asking Jean for a peaceful night? Telepaths are able to do that."

“No. I don’t want anyone in my head,” Cammie said flatly. “Not for that,” she said, wiping her eyes. “’fore I left home, I did something horrible. No one needs to see that.”

"Ask her", Kurt urged. "It may be she can do it without ever touching on your memories - as I understand it, it is just a matter of turning off a switch for a few hours - but if she cannot, you will have lost nothing by asking."

She went on as if she hadn’t even heard the suggestion, “Jean-Paul was saying I’m not in trouble for it, but he has to be wrong. You can’t do what I did and walk away from it without being in trouble. It’s… I’m not a person, I’m not.” She was a freak and a monster. She had that drilled into her mind now and it wasn’t going anywhere. No sleep and stress just made it worse.

"You are a person", was the sharp response to that. "Cammie, look at me. You are as much a person as the boy is who killed his father on manifesting, or the man who ran a girl through with his claws on waking from a nightmare. The girl herself would have died if she had not borrowed his powers to save herself, at great cost to him."

She looked up and wondered just how awful she looked at the moment. No sleep, crying and just generally freaking out in her room hadn’t been good. She hadn’t even showered. “They’re people… I’m not… I’m some sort of… people get sick from me, I kill them. I never wanted to be like this. If I had know what I was…” she would’ve told Greg to get as far away from her as he could. He’d still be alive. And with someone else.

"Then things might be different", he agreed more softly. "But all we can do is work with things as they are. I want you to stay in my suite for a while, Cammie. I have a comfortable couch, and no one will bother you there."

Holding on her bag for a moment she let that sink in, “Why do you want a monster in your room?” she asked simply. Her next thought was simply that she liked comfy couches. And not being bothered. “What if I end up hurting you too?”

"I have been called a monster too", he said, equally simply. "Perhaps the more freakish of us must stick together... and I trust that you will not hurt me, or Sam, or my dog. That is all."

“You’re not a monster,” she said. Kurt was… Kurt. Sure, he had startled her the first time she saw him, but after that she just saw him. “I like dogs…” she muttered. Greg had had a dog. A retired police dog. “…I guess, I mean, there’s still snow, I don’t want to go out in the snow,” she rambled.

"Going out alone in the snow would be a bad thing", Kurt agreed, slipping an arm carefully around her shoulders. "Come on, now, and perhaps you can sleep."

“Okay…” Cammie said. The trip there, they didn’t speak. Cammie spent more time looking down at the floor and making sure her bag didn’t slip off her shoulder. The suite wasn’t anything overly special, but the couch was comfy once she sat down. Though she couldn’t exactly close her eyes and drift off to lala land.

Because every time she closed her eyes she kept seeing that dance.

“I really wish Callie hadn’t shown that flier to anyone,” she muttered. “Even me. I don’t care what it says,” she muttered, “I can’t go back. I can’t call home. No one wants something like me walking around…” she was talking more to herself, thinking out loud, as it were.

"You do not have to go back", Kurt assured her, perching on the arm of the couch. "Not if you do not want to. But what did the flier say?"

“That mom and dad want me back,” Cammie said, “That I’m not in trouble. I don’t believe it. You can’t do what I did and go back,” Cammie said, sinking back into the couch and closing her eyes. “I mean, everyone ran away screaming. Well, the people that weren’t trying to tackle me…” she muttered.

"Perhaps they were at first. It must have been a great shock to everyone... you most of all, of course, but them too. Can you be sure your parents do not mean it without contacting them? At least to tell them you are safe?"

She shook her head, “It’s better this way. They don’t need to know what I am. ‘m adopted anyway. Not like I’m their real kid.”

"I was adopted too", he reminded her, "but Ivan and Margali Szardos were the only real parents I ever had. It is not about blood, or not only."

“Oh yeah,” she said. She was just exhausted she had almost forgotten about the journal entry he had. “You’ve been through ‘lot too,” she said, yawning. “They don’t need to know what that I’m like this. The night I left home, I killed someone,” Cammie admitted, “Wasn’t just anyone either,” she said softly. She had loved her boyfriend, even though she didn’t believe so much in love anymore. It was the only thing she could call what she had felt.

"It was someone you cared for", he guessed, looking down at her. "It is often the way, where things like this happen, just because they are the one closest by. You must remember it was an accident."

“No one else thought so,” she muttered, “I should’ve known, you know? My hair turned green – I told everyone I dyed it – I started to crave things people don’t eat. Nothing had any effect on me. Painkillers, booze, nothing,” she yawned and shook her head with one random memory that popped up, “’made two hundred dollars at Tom Sheldon’s Fourth of July party by drinking three whole bottles of Vodka… then my boyfriend…” she cut off. Greg had flippantly remarked it wasn’t human. “I shoulda known I wasn’t right.”

"There is a difference between not quite normal and dangerous", he pointed out. "You had no reason to expect the way it would end, I think?"

“Near the end, I was eating paint chips off of this old guy’s house. Led paint. And drinking what was left from when we painted our house. Or taking stuff from under the sink,” she was so out of it she couldn’t even make the connection anymore that she was talking. Days without sleep had taken their toll, “and we talked about how we were going to get out of Grand Falls because small towns eat you alive if you let them and everyone was telling us we were going to get married right out of high school. I wanted to go to college, so did he,” she said, and started digging in her bag, “I’ve a picture here somewhere. Only picture I have…”

"Cammie." He reached for the bag, pulling it away gently. "You can show me the picture in the morning. It will still be there then, and now you need sleep."

“Yeah… I miss him,” she said simply. “He loved me,” she said yawning, trying to hold back the tears, “And I killed him… I’m not going back.”

"No one will make you", he said softly, watching her. "Sleep now. I will be here if you need anything."

“’kay. Been having nightmares though, I’m gonna wake up in a bit,” she hoped that wasn’t the case as she closed her eyes. But her mind had been replaying the dance for days. “Going to need blankets,” she said as her breathing evened out. “Sorry for the trouble,” was the last thing she said before falling asleep.

"There is no trouble", Kurt assured her whether she could hear him or not, then got up to go in search of the mentioned blankets.