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Chapter Three: Complication
Cameron's Redemption
"Complication"
Three hours. 180 minutes. 10800 seconds. That’s how much time Cameron requires to recharge her unstable power cell. That’s how long she must remain in stand-by each day. Three hours and the cramp in John’s leg was steadily getting worse, though he didn’t dare move in case he woke her. John lay on Cameron’s bed, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. They had stayed up pretty much all night talking, or at least, John was talking, Cameron still remained monosyllabic. Well, he thought, at least she’s not crying. Cameron stirred slightly; she was beginning to wake up. Her head was resting peacefully on John’s chest, her arm draped over his mid-section, she’d become rather clingy in the past few days, almost as if she were afraid that John’s absence, if even for a moment, would cause her to start killing people.
John’s hand, which had been resting on her hip, now moved upward to her face and gently caressed her silky hair. He couldn’t help but wonder how, with everything that’s been going on, she was able to make time to keep herself perfectly clean, he couldn’t recall the last time she had a shower. As he gently stroked her strands, John’s finger brushed against her right cheek and was surprised to find that her scar had completely disappeared, for which he was glad. John was afraid that Cameron would be unable to go to school today as she still looked a little worse for wear, though he’d been able to fix her leg and most of her concealable scars were already fading. The one on her cheek had given him pause, but now she looked no different than the day they first met.
Cameron slowly shifted her head to look at John’s face, he looked tired. Calculating… Estimated 38% of daily rest acquired. He watched over me all night. Cameron felt relieved and a strong feeling of content coursed through her, she was afraid that he might return to his room in the middle of the night. She wasn’t ready to be left alone, it made her feel… vulnerable.
“Morning sleepy-head. You all charged up now? You’re going back to school today.”
Cameron was less enthusiastic about this, she wasn’t sure she was ready to start socialising just yet, but John needed protecting. Though it was no longer a mission requirement, she did it anyway, she couldn’t explain why. Cameron slowly lifted herself up and noticed a small damp patch on his t-shirt where her head had been resting, a brief analysis identified the fluid as her own synthetic saliva.
“I drooled on you. I’m sorry.”
John gave the patch a quick glance and then shrugged.
“It’s cool. Heh, you should see my pillow in the mornings. You’d think the water bed broke or something.”
John shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of what he’d just said. Strange, thought Cameron, John’s bladder does not seem to be impair-… Oh, he means drool. Cameron suddenly laughed aloud as she realised that she had come to the very conclusion that John obviously hoped she wouldn’t.
“That’s not what I – I mean I don’t – you know…”
“Wet the bed? Soil the sheets? Water the…?”
“Stop already. God… your still doing that dictionary thing aren’t you? I hoped that would’ve been shot to hell by the explosion.”
Cameron’s smile was replaced with a look of hurt as all the memories of the past week came rushing back. She got out of bed and went to her wardrobe to pick out some clothes.
“You shouldn’t be here. Your mom will freak if knows you spent the night. You should go.”
Her voice had returned to that steely mechanical tone that sent chills down John’s spine. She was hurt, he’d upset her, more than he knew.
“Cameron, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“John, time to get out of bed, I’m making pancakes. You want syrup? John? Where are you?”
Sarah’s voice echoed down the hall as she came closer to Cameron’s room. John considered hiding under the bed and then sneaking back into his room once she’d left, but all plans were cast aside when Cameron suddenly spoke in a loud voice.
“He’s in here.”
Sarah practically burst into the room, the look of worry on her face suddenly turned to suspicion as she realised that John was wearing yesterday’s clothes. He’d spent the night in her room?
“What is going on here?”
“Mom, I…”
“We slept together. I drooled all over him. Oh, and John wets the bed like a broken shower hose.”
Cameron’s matter-of-fact tone turned what should have been an unbelievable statement into an all too believable admission. John was incredulous; she’d done this to him on purpose, revenge for his earlier comment. Crap, I’m going to have a hard time talking my way out of this one. Okay, here goes...
John’s confrontational skills had improved significantly this past week, but Sarah had a lifetime of experience, and as Cameron casually changed her clothes she knew he was losing the battle. Cameron strode past the quarrelling duo and went into the kitchen to find Derek sat at the table eating breakfast. He looked up at her and jabbed his spoon in the direction of her bedroom.
“I guess you’re still a home wrecker, huh? Maybe we ought to remove your chip, poke around a little, get rid of those pesky quirks.”
Derek Reese: Ally, and Enemy, depending on the time of day. Appropriate Response: terminate? No, too messy. Humiliate? Yes, that would do nicely. Cameron took a few steps towards the table; Derek leaned back in his chair ready for whatever she might do. Cameron stared at him for a moment before smiling and turning towards the sink, but as she turned Cameron gave the table a quick shove with her hip, spilling Derek’s cereal all down his front. He got to his feet, cursing and trying to brush the milk off of his shirt. Cameron casually handed him a towel as Sarah and John came into the kitchen, both exhausted from shouting.
“What’s going on in here?”
“Derek spilt his cereal; I think he might be deficient. It would explain why he never seems to shave.”
Derek stood there, fuming, as Cameron took an apple from the cupboard and went into the living room. Sarah just shook her head and told John to change his clothes, before preparing his lunch.
The walk to school was uncomfortably silent, Cameron hadn’t said a word since they left the house and John was still annoyed at her for bringing his mother’s fury down on him like a ton of bricks. Not that I didn’t deserve it, he reminded himself. School was the same as it had always been; loud, crowded, dangerous, though only Cameron would consider the last one. The day dragged on like any other, Cameron and John refused to speak to each other, even as they sat together in the outdoor lunch area where they were joined by Morris.
“Whoa, if that storm cloud gets any uglier you guys are gonna need umbrellas. What gives?”
“It’s nothing. Just one of those days, ya know?”
John chanced a look at Cameron, who was embroiled in a science book, despite the fact that she’d already memorised it. Morris gave her a light tap on the shoulder, causing her to look up at him.
“So errr, Cameron. You picked out a dress yet? You know, for the Prom?”
Cameron considered her response carefully. She remembered accepting Morris’ invitation to this social event, upon John’s insistence no less, but was unsure as to whether or not she actually wanted to go. Not that she disliked Morris, he was just an outsider. Cameron glanced at John; he was unsettled, or is that jealousy, she couldn’t quite tell. She decided to find out.
“Yes, it’s tight. You’ll love it. Isn’t that right, John?”
John glared at her, he knew what she was trying to do… and she was succeeding. He would like nothing more than to go to the Prom hand-in-hand with Cameron, to be able to look at her in that dress and dance with her under the glitter ball. Perhaps she knew this, perhaps not, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with hurting him like this, especially after what he went through to help her.
“Yeah, I’m sure Morris will be lucky to have a girlfriend who’ll just as soon snap your neck as give you a kiss. The kind of girl who can go ape-shit at the drop of a hat and knows exactly how to hurt you, because it’s what she was born… built to do.”
Cameron wasn’t expecting that. She had underestimated his feelings for her and now suddenly felt very ashamed of herself. But as she analysed his words Cameron’s shame was replaced with grief. He hates me, John hates me? Analysing Possible Response:…………None Found…………..Warning: System Overload………………….
Cameron stormed off, her eyes brimming with tears, leaving a stunned Morris and a guilty John in her wake.
“Dude, that was not cool.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I – we’ve been having a hard couple of days.”
“Look, I get it. But she’s your sister, you better go after her.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll see you later, okay?”
John gathered his books and headed in the same direction as Cameron, but she was already gone. When she didn’t appear in Chem class later that day, John became concerned; she’d never skipped a lesson before. He asked the teacher if he could be dismissed and began systematically searching the school. John even dared to venture into the girl’s lavatories, but found no sign of Cameron. The bell sounded and the mass of students began ploughing through the exits. John was getting anxious; What if something happened to her? What if Cromartie found her? He started to panic and raced out to the student pick-up area, desperately scanning the crowds for any sighting of those brown eyes. He was about to give up hope when he bumped into Morris.
“Hey, bro. You still looking for Cameron?”
“Yeah, I can’t find her anywhere.”
“Well you need new eyes, she’s over there.”
John turned to look at where Morris was pointing. She was on the other side of the car park, sitting on a bench. John felt his heart expand as relief flooded into him. He ran to her as fast as he could.
“Cameron.”
Cameron stood up and turned around to face him. Her eyes were glassy and her face wet with tears. John skidded to a halt in the road, deciding to approach her slowly. He hated himself for making her cry; he swore he would never hurt her like that again. She isn’t just a machine, he reminded himself, she’s a person, actual and whole. With feelings no different than mine.
“Cameron, I’m sorry. Please, I never…..”
A sharp pain suddenly erupted from his right leg, spreading to his upper body as he smashed into the bonnet of the car. He felt his body spin as he flew over the roof, bouncing on the trunk and landing on the hard tarmac. As everything faded into darkness, John heard a single angelic voice cry out in the distance.
“JOHN!”
Next: Chapter Four: Consequence
Previous: Chapter Two: Contemplation
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, Jun 24 2009, 5:11 PM EDT
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