Those Camsten One Shots (Stitchers)

Waking You Up (Mature)

Tonight's episode. . . I cried like a child. Like, omg. Then, the promo for the finale. . . I do not care if we are getting fudging season two, you do not kill Cameron. You just don't do that. You don't set up Camille and Linus, you don't give Kirsten a boyfriend that proposed and is evil, and you do not, you DO NOT kill the best damn character on the damn show! Anyways, this is a small speculation on what has the slightest chance of happening. ENJOY!

Last minute note: Rated M by author, cause I have a dirty mind. Well, this is more smut with plot.

"Cameron. Cameron!" My scream echoes around the room, but it doesn't overpower the noise of the heart monitor. It's like everything I hear is that damn monitor, and all I can see is the person it's flat line is coming from.

I said no one else was going to die for me. I said that to Fisher, and I meant it about anyone. I didn't care who it was, nobody was dying for my sake.

Now, however, Cameron was dead, and it was all my damn fault. I hear three pairs of footsteps behind me, and I know that my teammates are leaving me. Like Cameron left me.

My voice is now a hoarse whisper. "You better be damn happy, Goodkin. You're the first person that's ever made me cry." My hand still clutches his, almost like I was trying to force life back into the cold body.

I have to resist the urge to scream. I feel almost like I did when Ed died; I know Cameron is dead, and it feels like he always has been. But that doesn't make it hurt any less.

Cameron is suppose to be alive. He is suppose to tell me how stupid I am for crying, why would he never leave me. He is not suppose to sit there, cold and lifeless, and let me feel like I need to scream.

Standing up a little bit, I lean over and press my forehead to his, my nose gently against his. I tentatively press my lips against his, doing what I've been meaning to do since he gave me that shitty old rock.

I lean back, and the tears start coming again, but no sobs will come out. The tears feel like they're burning holes in my cheeks, and I have this horrible feeling in my stomach. I sink to the floor, feeling unable to handle my own weight.

The door opens behind me, and I find Camille looking at me with a strange look in her eyes. Coming over, she sits down and hugs me, saying nothing.

"You saw that, didn't you?"

I feel her nod against my shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

We sit in silence for a while, the only noise being the flat line. We both shoot up, however, when the noise changes back to an almost-steady heart beat. Camille gapes, surprise taking over her. I stand there, feeling frozen, until I see his chest moving up and down, seeing him breath. Camille looks over at me.

"What are we going to tell him? I mean we have to tell him you-"

I force a hand over her mouth, seeing that his eyes are fluttering open. I slowly remove my hand, and she takes that as her sign to shut up. I get on my knees and rest my chin on the small table we put Cameron on. I grab his hand, squeezing it lightly. My heart seems to skip a beat when he speaks.

"You did what exactly, buttercup?"

A small laugh comes from me, and I can't help but love the sound of it compared to my screams earlier. He turns his head toward me, a slight smile on his face. I resist the strong urge to kiss him again, but it's everything I can do just to keep my eyes on his own. His eyes trail down, noticing the catsuit.

"Kirsten, why are you in that?" His eyes clouded with worry, and I'm pretty sure mine probably have the same look.

"Well would you look at the time! Kirsten probably needs to get changed and you need to get clothes on, and I need to leave before this gets too awkward!" Grabbing my hand, Camille lead me out of Cameron's makeshift room.

"Alright, I'm taking you home before this gets weird," Camille huffed, leading me to the locker rooms. I made no reply; all I knew was that Cameron's eyes were open, his heart beating. That was all I needed.

--- Later that day ---

My feet rest on the coffee table, a book in front of my eyes. I hear a knock at the door, and put a bookmark inside 1984. Walking over to the door, I didn't even think about checking who it was. When I open the door, however, I wish I had.

Cameron stands there, his eyes showing something along the lines of fear. "Cameron?" I motion for him to come in, confusion in my mind. "How did you get out of the lab?" I avoid the other half of my sentence, the reason why he needs to be in the lab.

"Just don't tell Maggie and maybe I'll live." My next look has to be one of anger, because when my head snaps up the fear in his eyes gets even easier to see. "Sorry, too soon. Look, Camille told me about, um, you-"

"Kissing you." I finish for him, unsure if he could have himself. He nods, and some of the fear leaves his green eyes. He's silent after that, and so am I.

He finally breaks the silence, and tries his best to lighten the mood. "You know, one of these days I'd like a kiss that both of us remember."

My eyes meet his, and all at once I forget the fact that he died, and that it was all my fault. I forget that I should still be getting over Liam, and I forget that I still have business with Maggie to get squared away. 

His eyes shine with what I can only call lust, and it only encourages me to speak. "Okay."

There's a moment where it's like everything is frozen, and I would probably describe it as the longest moment of my life if I didn't base time off logic. The moment passes though, and my lips are pressed to his.

His hands go to my waist, my arms around his neck. It starts out a long, open mouthed kiss, before it transitions to short, needy kisses. He leads me to my bedroom, and shuts the door behind us. I start to unbutton his shirt, doing it as fast as possible. He lifts his hands from my waist, and shrugs off the fully unbuttoned shirt.

Transitioning to my shirt, he tugs at the hem, lips going to my neck. I hesitantly remove myself from him, and slowly pull off my shirt. His eyes show something that I didn't even see when I was with Liam, a look of sheer admiration. I slowly walk back over to him, lips connecting again. My hands are in his hair, and before I know it, our clothes are all over my room.

I push him down on the bed, our kisses becoming needy and frequent again. He's now only in a pair of boxers, me only in my panties. His hands go to my breasts, and I moan against his mouth. He takes a chance and opens his mouth, french-kissing me.

I moan again, and I feel his hands go to the edge of my underwear. He stops and pulls back, looking me in the eye. I move my hands to his, and slowly pull them down with him. I kick them off, then return my lips to his. I roll my hips against his, feeling him get harder.

The next parts were a blur. I remember tugging down his boxers, and him checking with me one last time. I remember actually doing it, but not very well.

I do know, however, that it was much better than Liam ever was.

A/N

I really didn't mean to make this mature, but I just got going with it, and it became way too fun to stop. Of course, I did start getting kinda uncomfortable writing, unsure about how good my writing was. How are my scenes like this? I think I'm getting better. . .

Anyways, how many of you spotted the Taylor Swift reference? Major hugs if you did.

Disclaimer: This is just my speculation on the finale. If this happens, I swear I am not some secret writer for Stitchers. I promise.

-Noelle