pretty when she cries ; fitz

chapter nineteen

cam felt guilty. he ran a sweaty hand through his hair.

"you're going so fast, cunt! don't kill us," mason nervously chuckled from next to him. cam weaved through all of the cars on the highway, his knuckles turning white as his other hand gripped the steering wheel tightly.

a couple hours before he'd gotten the call and taken off, cam had been at the misfit's house. he had planned to go back and stream at his own place, but swagger wanted to have a little kickback with some random girls, weed, and alcohol. cam tried to deny the invitation, but jay had persuaded him into going.

he just really wished he didn't go.

he had had a little too much--smoked out his lungs and drank until he felt numb. he had forgotten who he was, and if someone was to ask him for his name, he probably wouldn't even be able to give it.

cam's head was fogged, but he was focused on speeding to the hospital. in mason's lap was the bright orange hoodie and an extra pair of swagger's sweatpants (as he was the only one in the house that she could possibly fit in the size). they were both folded neatly.

veering off the exit, cam clenched his teeth.

his mouth had been on someone else's--someone's that wasn't her's. his body inside of a girl he couldn't even distinguish the face of. his subconscious wasn't strong or smart enough to tell him to wake up. to stop. to not do it.

but amalie's breaking voice on the phone was plenty enough.

"she didn't tell you what's going on?" mason tried to start conversation since he was a little too stoned for the silence. the silence usually caused a ringing sound in his ear.

"no." cam was short in his response. he turned on his directional before whipping into the hospital. they went in the front entrance, being advised to take the elevator down to the bottom floor emergency room where amalie would be.

mason pressed the button and crossed his arms, the clothes tucked underneath his armpit. anxiety ate at the two of them as the doors opened and revealed the new floor.

upon their arrival in the waiting room, a shaking and lonely amalie rocked in her seat. she was the only one there. amalie didn't even look at them when they appeared.

she was scratching at her wrist, her nails digging harder and harder into the open flesh.

"hey, hey, hey!" mason noticed her actions and hurried over to her, squatting down. he pulled her hands apart and held them to her sides.

"uh...oh, my god. cam? cam! come here," mason had looked up at her face, which had been beaten up badly during the scuffle with glen. cameron moved with a sense of urgency, taking long strides over to the corner where they were. why is she in the waiting room? if she is in here, who is in the emergency room? after mason called him over, she'd pulled an arm from mason's grasp to rub her eyes with the sleeve of cam's now-mangled sweater. when it was removed, her stare bore into the ground in between mason's squatting legs.

as he neared, cam felt his heart drop after realizing her clothes were blood-stained, but then he saw her face. and he felt his heart getting ripped out from his chest.

the same questions ran through his mind, why is she here? what happened?

he finally remembered (still coming down from his fucked up state).

cal.

amalie's bronzed skin was pale, her face seemingly turned green. she rocked, her bruised knee bumping up and down and her hands jittered under mason's control.