Panic Attack
Title: Panic Attack (1/?)
Pairing: Thirteen/Cameron-not this chapter, but eventually…
Rating: M for what’s going to happen in future =]
Warning: Femslash in the next few chapters, sex, blah.
She’s just found out she’s going to die. She always knew she might, but it’s just been confirmed. She’s going to die, so why shouldn’t she freak out? Why the fuck shouldn’t she do what she wants to do: run out of the hospital, tearing the paper into little shreds and scattering them on the street, regardless of littering policies? Oh, she already is. She’s also ignoring the tears flying off her face and into her now screwed-up hair. That’s how fast she’s running. What else is screwed up, other than her hair? Her entire life. No, that’s not true. She’s not being rational. She knew there was a 50% chance she was going to die. She’d always known that, and that’s why she’d climbed Kilimanjaro and gone into anything that caught her fancy headfirst. “Oh my God, I’m going to die,” she whimpers to the night. She’s going crazy now, talking to herself as she strides on.
“This is a revelation?” she mutters angrily.
“You’re going to die. It’s a shock. You’re allowed to freak out like this.”
“This is a freak-out of the first degree. You’re overreacting.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Shut up!”
This last phrase she yells as loud as she can into the night, begging and pleading everyone to do the same. House and his tasteless jokes, Cameron and her caring, Cuddy and her need to meddle; why can’t they all just shut up and go away? Thirteen’s heart is beating overtime now, even though she stopped running a while ago. Her throat seizes and she starts feeling dizzy. Through her suddenly narrowed line of sight, she can see her hands shaking, more than they should be at this stage. She realizes suddenly that it’s not the Huntington’s, but her throat is still tight and she can barely breathe. She has no idea where she is, and couldn’t look even if she wanted to. She’s getting dizzier and dizzier and fading into…
Pairing: Thirteen/Cameron-not this chapter, but eventually…
Rating: M for what’s going to happen in future =]
Warning: Femslash in the next few chapters, sex, blah.
She’s just found out she’s going to die. She always knew she might, but it’s just been confirmed. She’s going to die, so why shouldn’t she freak out? Why the fuck shouldn’t she do what she wants to do: run out of the hospital, tearing the paper into little shreds and scattering them on the street, regardless of littering policies? Oh, she already is. She’s also ignoring the tears flying off her face and into her now screwed-up hair. That’s how fast she’s running. What else is screwed up, other than her hair? Her entire life. No, that’s not true. She’s not being rational. She knew there was a 50% chance she was going to die. She’d always known that, and that’s why she’d climbed Kilimanjaro and gone into anything that caught her fancy headfirst. “Oh my God, I’m going to die,” she whimpers to the night. She’s going crazy now, talking to herself as she strides on.
“This is a revelation?” she mutters angrily.
“You’re going to die. It’s a shock. You’re allowed to freak out like this.”
“This is a freak-out of the first degree. You’re overreacting.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Shut up!”
This last phrase she yells as loud as she can into the night, begging and pleading everyone to do the same. House and his tasteless jokes, Cameron and her caring, Cuddy and her need to meddle; why can’t they all just shut up and go away? Thirteen’s heart is beating overtime now, even though she stopped running a while ago. Her throat seizes and she starts feeling dizzy. Through her suddenly narrowed line of sight, she can see her hands shaking, more than they should be at this stage. She realizes suddenly that it’s not the Huntington’s, but her throat is still tight and she can barely breathe. She has no idea where she is, and couldn’t look even if she wanted to. She’s getting dizzier and dizzier and fading into…