FIC- Fading Addiction Part Thirteen
Again, huge thanks to Kyry for being my beta. And all you guys for the awesome feedback, the personal comments, everything really! I doubt I’ll be posting before Christmas Day now so I hope everyone has an amazing Christmas no matter how they spend it. :-)
Fading Addiction Part Twelve is here.
Fading Addiction Part Thirteen
The phone rang several times before she picked up, and for a brief moment I wondered if she was even home. However, a familiar click sounded, and I heard the voice I knew so well say, “Hello?”
Taking a deep breath I replied, “Hey.”
“Who is this?” I was dismayed to discover that she didn’t recognise my voice. Ok so I’d spoken just one word; but still.
“It’s Cameron.” I informed her, deciding I’d wait to see how she responded before saying anything else.
“Cameron?” She sounded surprised, but considering how we’d parted earlier that was to be expected. “Are you ok?”
The question which she’d asked me so many times, yet still continued to ask, made me want to laugh. Knowing this would be a bad idea, I managed to hold it back. Firmly I replied, “Yes.”
“Then why is it you’re ringing?” She said, confused. “I thought we had nothing left to say to each other.”
Deciding honesty was the best policy I slurred, “Just wanted to chat. Nothing wrong with that is there?”
There was silence for a few moments before she asked tentatively, “Have you been drinking?”
At this question I couldn’t hold back the laugh, and didn’t attempt to cover it up. “I’ve had a few yeah.”
The moment I’d spoken those words, she flew off the handle, snapping, “I don’t have time for this! Goodbye Dr. Cameron. And by God if you’re not sober for work in the morning the first thing I’ll do is fire your ass and the second is have you committed to the psych ward.” She threatened.
Although I wasn’t entirely sure if she was serious or not, her words still made me angry; especially after I’d made an effort to be nice. “Go to hell Cuddy.” I sneered.
“Excuse me?!” She was evidently taken aback.
“Do what you must; I don’t care. Nothing you say or do can hurt me any worse than what I’ve already faced in my life.” It was unlike me to play the sympathy card but the truth was; her words had hurt me. No way on earth would I ever admit this, and so, nonchalance was all I could think of turning to.
She hesitated for a brief moment. Then, speaking slowly she said, “Cameron… what’s this about?”
“What do you care?” I asked, trying not to get upset.
She laughed wryly. “What do I care? Let me see; I’ve only spent the past God knows’ how many weeks worrying about not just your health; but you. I’ve reached out, tried to understand, tried to help, and every time you throw it back in my face. Maybe I’m just sick of trying with you.”
I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Maybe I’m just sick of being me.” I whispered, before hanging up the phone. As strange as it was to admit something this personal, to Cuddy of all people, it seemed that tonight I had lost control and couldn’t help but act like a completely different person. In fact, I wasn’t even sure who the real me was anymore. Was I really in control? It certainly didn’t feel like it; not the way it used to. There was a time when refusing food and watching my bones slowly appear in the mirror before me gave me the greatest buzz. It helped me not feel the pain; become this superior human being who was numb to everything including love. Somehow, lately all that had changed. What if I really was ill? What if I was just in complete denial that there was something very wrong with me? What if anorexia was controlling me? The possible answers to these questions scared me more than ever, sent shivers down my spine that all the warmth in the world couldn’t eradicate.
Although I was upset, the tears refused to come. Instead my body began to shake uncontrollably, and despite wrapping my arms around myself and telling myself to calm down, it continued to do so. Everything looked different; felt different. A swarm of emotions overcame me; but what I felt the most, what was the hardest thing to deal with was the feeling that I was utterly out of control. My world was falling apart, my image shattering into a million little pieces, and I was more frightened than ever. The walls were closing in on me, and I was suffocated by my own mistakes, my stupid belief that everything was fine.
Everything wasn’t fine.
It wasn’t even close.
>>>>>>
I’m unsure of how long I remained lying on the floor, but it must have been somewhere in the region of half an hour. It was likely that had there not been a knock at my apartment door I would have remained in that position all night. Whilst I had barely any energy to move, the thought that someone was just feet away from me having made the effort to come and see me caused a knot in my stomach. The knot tightened as I considered the possibility that it was Cuddy. Really, she was the only person I could envision standing on the other side of the door, but until I opened it I wouldn’t know for sure.
Keeping the chain on as it was starting to get late (already ten o’clock; where had all the time gone?) I opened the door slightly. Cuddy partially came into view, and through the narrow gap she made eye contact with me. “Cameron? Please can I come in?”
Nodding, I unhooked the chain and opened the door fully so as to let her pass me by. She did so immediately, and as soon as she was out of the way, I locked the door again. For the life of me I had no idea why I was suddenly preoccupied with safety, but perhaps I could attribute it to the fact that suddenly I felt naked. Vulnerable.
“Why are you here Cuddy?” Hearing my own voice, I sounded tired. Way too tired.
”I was worried about you.” She said simply.
“Yeah?” I didn’t see the point in arguing; not that I had the energy to. I could still feel the effects of the alcohol, although slowly but surely, they were wearing off. Previously I couldn’t even walk, but now I managed to stand up fairly steadily. Well; for the moment.
“Yeah.” She said softly. “It seems to be all I’m doing lately.”
“Maybe you should get a hobby.” I smiled to let her know I wasn’t being sarcastic.
She returned the smile. “Maybe I should.” She moved closer to me, taking my hand in her own. Such a small sign of support, but it was a huge comfort to me. At the same time, human contact when I was least expecting it from her after the way I’d treated her, made my eyes well up, and I felt the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks. There was no hiding it this time; I had hit the point of exhaustion and barely had the energy to remain in an upright position without the added problem of trying to keep Cuddy from seeing my tears. Instead I let them flow freely down my face, still staring Cuddy in the eye, until she wrapped her arms around and let me collapse onto her, as realisation hit me.
I was sick.
Really sick.