#I just saw a tag that said big tidie committee

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

Wheels Set In Motion, Ch 3.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: As the situation in New Ham takes a dark, mysterious turn, Campbell is faced with a threat he never saw coming. With few allies and the past coming back to haunt him, he is forced to deal with a world that is crumbling fast, and choices with grim consequences.

Rating: Explicit.

Tags: Minor Character Death, Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Addiction Recovery, Unhealthy Relationships, Teen Pregnancy, Past Rape/Non-con, Campbell Isn’t The Dad, Brother Feels, Attempted Murder, Supernatural Elements, Gay Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Campbell has mild ASPD and is actively trying to not be awful

Word Count: 7613

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || AO3

The house felt empty.

Campbell went about his life, because he didn't know what else to do. Elle kept to herself, going to work and coming home. Rinse and repeat. It felt like the same fucking song and dance they'd been through before-- come together, pull apart, come together, pull apart, like some sadomasochistic ocean tide. She did her own thing, and Campbell focused on work and Sam and Harry, because it kept Campbell from getting destructive.

Sometimes, they would sit together at mealtimes, or mull about the same part of the house. Someone would crack a joke, or hum one of their favorite songs, and just for a second they would forget. They would smile at each other, and Campbell felt that little flicker of affection, but then Elle's face would fall and she would look away. He still saved the little mini candy bars out of the rations he got, and left them on her nightstand. If he noticed her laundry stacking up, he'd wash them while she was at work and fold them neatly. Campbell knew there was some deeper feeling on the other side of the bomb shelter door that was his heart, but what could he do, besides what he was doing? It would have been easy to be angry, but Campbell didn't have the energy to spend on that, or on pining after Elle like some lovesick child. It hurt, fuck it hurt, but in the end there wasn't anything he could do to convince her. Even if there was, he didn't want to. She needed to decide for herself what she believed, and where she wanted to be. It was like seeing a houseplant dying. He could try and water it. He could give it sunlight, and talk sweetly to it. But at the end of the day, if the roots were rotted out, he couldn't save it. All he could do was mourn the loss. Harry, on the other hand, was still there. Harry needed him. Campbell was mopping a hallway when he heard a commotion from the next room, where Harry was working. The two week break had ended. Harry was back to work. He was making an effort, but Campbell could tell that he was still run down. Tired. And, well, they all were tired. But Harry was the kind of tired that a good night of sleep couldn't fix. Campbell saw that look in a few people's eyes. No one talked about it, but it was there. It was there a lot more often, lately. A few people were less than sympathetic. "That's against the rules," a redhead was snapping at Harry. "No shift-shirking. I'll tell the guard." Harry was standing there, head bowed as he curled in on himself. "And you wonder why no one liked you in school." "I know that you used to strut around like you owned the place, but what exactly makes you think you're so special now?" "Nothing." The redhead, someone Campbell knew from a few classes over the years, stomped out of the room and past Campbell. Gretchen. Not usually a cruel person, but he made a note in his head to let Allie know about Gretchen's tendency to text her girlfriend when she was supposed to be working. Just in case. Harry managed to slink his way out into the hall, once no one was looking. "I've only been working three days," he mumbled. Campbell could see that Harry's hands had little cracks in the skin. "I never knew I was this weak." "You're not weak. It's just cold, and your skin is dry. C'mon. Follow me." They ended up at a little room where Campbell had stashed some health care supplies. Band aids, ointment, alcohol wipes. Harry watched as Campbell took his hand and gently cleaned up the abrasions. "That's not what I meant. It's.... I want to work. I do. But I wake up, and I feel so heavy. Every move takes so much effort. It hurts." Campbell slowly massaged Neosporin into the cracks, frowning, and then wrapped the wounds in a loose bandage. "Yeah, buddy. Depression is like that. It sucks." "I used to see kids online or in movies and I'd think, wow, just pull yourself together. But how? How do you do it when all you want to do is sleep?" "Get help, usually." "You're the only help I have." "That's frightening." Harry rested his other hand on top of Campbell's own. He sounded angry when he spoke, but his gaze was soft. "It's not frightening to me," he said. "I want you to know that. I don't care what other people say." His hands were warm. Campbell stared down at them, counting off the days in his head since he'd last felt meaningful touch. Eighteen days. Not long, really, but he'd gone most of his life without it and he'd just started to think that maybe it was something good. Something he needed, after all. To be without it again made him more uncomfortable than he thought it would. Still. He didn't want to, he couldn't, give up on Elle yet. "You say that now, but wait until you end up with a foot sewn onto your hand or something." Before Harry could reply, Campbell pulled away and went back to work. The next day was Sunday, and Sunday was-- officially, by Allie's rules-- mandatory community meeting day. Campbell tried to act like he was paying attention, but Helena was going on and on about improv classes, football, and family shit. Blah. Allie came up on stage and that was slightly more interesting. Thanksgiving on Thursday the 22nd, bring recipes to Will for ingredients if people wanted to cook something to bring to the community dinner. "Next," Allie announced, "we have an update from the Committee on Resources." A voice rose up from the audience. Lexie. "What about the Committee on Going Home?" "Gordie and Bean promised me a report by Thursday." "Are we going home?" "Not before Thursday." Campbell could see Lexie's face from his position in the pews. Her eyes were narrowed, jaw clenched, as other kids in the crowd giggled. She was embarrassed. Angry. A bad movie on Allie's part, mocking people when her leadership was already in a precarious position. Luckily, Will got up there fast and began to explain the results of the food audit. It was the last sentence in his report that drew an audible gasp from those gathered. "We'll start to run low by next summer." "So we're all going to fucking starve?" another person called out. "Not if we prepare now." Will gave the crowd a confident, assured smile. It was tight around the edges, and it didn't reach his eyes, but he was trying. "We knew this was going to happen. We have time to find solutions. Grizz has come up with a plan that will help us. Grizz?" Grizz froze, but then joined Will on the stage. Compared to Will, he was stiff and awkward, but at least he managed to not throw up. "Uh..." He cleared his throat. "We're gonna start looking into options for gardening and farming. There's been a few options suggested that we're exploring." Grizz glanced at Campbell. So, they had listened to Campbell's suggestion after all, but decided not to do shit about it yet. "And after Thanksgiving, I'm going to lead a search party to look for alternative food supplies." "Does he not remember what happened last time?" Harry wondered, a little too loudly. "Emily died from a fucking snake bite." Ignoring the unsettled buzzing in the room, Grizz continued. "If anyone wants to join me, I'm looking for four or five volunteers to come along with me. We all know what happened to Emily. This time will be different. We know what to expect now, and we can better defend ourselves." Lexie, apparently, wasn't done with Allie and Company yet. "Even if this all works out, who's gonna work the land?" "We will," Allie spoke up. "All of us. Some of us already know how. They can teach us what they know, and the rest, we'll learn from books. Just like how we learned to do everything else around here. What other choice do we have?" No choice. They all knew that was true, even if no one wanted to admit it. Helena had been right, earlier, during her big long speech-- they were trapped. What else could they do, except fight to survive? Campbell sighed, standing up to leave when the crowd was dismissed for the day. He'd made it a few paces when he realized he was alone. Going back, he nudged Harry a bit with his elbow. "Hey. Earth to Harry." "We're just kids." He was staring down at his hand, running his fingers over the bandages. "How are we supposed to handle all of this, alone?" "Kids a lot younger than us have been figuring this shit out for eons. We can do it." Harry sat for a little bit longer, then pushed himself to his feet and trudged after Campbell. Elle got home not long after they did. Instead of going up to her room like she usually did, she lingered around the living room while Campbell tidied up. "Do you have any plans?" she asked. "I thought maybe we could go to movie night." Campbell blinked at the sudden offer. Elle was looking at him with some measure of expectation in her eyes; maybe she'd decided to believe him, after all. "Sure. I'd like that, if you want to go." And it was as easy as that. Harry stayed home, giving Campbell a nod of encouragement as they headed out the door. They went to the movie, got popcorn, and laughed and leaned on each other like a normal couple. Campbell tried to ignore the tone of the movie. 500 Days of Summer wasn't exactly the most cheerful of RomComs. He tried even harder to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his head that something was wrong. Again. Like always. It was a sudden thought in his head. This isn't normal. How was it healthy, for him to constantly be wondering what was going on? How was it healthy for Elle, if she felt like she had to pretend all the time that things were fine? Maybe they would have stood a chance back home, outside of the rat cage they were in now, or maybe if Cassandra hadn't died. But here? In the new world? Maybe they were just fooling themselves. Elle must have picked up on his mood. On the way home, she slowed down a bit and took his hand. "I know the last few weeks have been crap. But I've missed you. If you say you weren't involved, I believe you." "You don't have to pretend," Campbell replied. "It's okay." "But it's too hard to live like this. I just want us to go back to normal." "It just doesn't really feel that way, Elle. I don't know. I get that it's terrifying, but I'm innocent and I'm gonna find some way to prove it. If you want to keep your distance until then, I'll understand." "I don't want to. Why don't we try and patch things up over Thanksgiving?" Elle asked, curling her arms around his waist and peering up at him with an adoring expression Campbell couldn't resist. "We could stay home, just you and me. I'm sure Allie won't mind." Campbell buried his face in Elle's hair. He slid one hand behind her head and rested the other one her hip, and breathed her in. The breeze was cold, and carried a hint of woodsmoke. He memorized the way she fit in his hands, before kissing her forehead and letting go. "Sure. If that's what you want." Allie was sitting out on her porch the next day, drinking tea and staring off into the woods. No one else was around. Odd for her. She barely seemed to notice Campbell approaching, but then he stepped through the scattering of crunchy leaves on the walkway, and she snapped out of whatever trance she'd been in. "Hey, cousin. How are you?" "I was just..." Allie glanced back at the woods, then shook her head. "You shouldn't be here. It's not exactly Campbell-friendly right now." "You too, huh?" "It doesn't seem your style, but I guess we never really know anyone." Campbell turned his eyes to the trees for a moment, too, thinking. "Be careful with Lexie. I just thought I should let you know that she's not someone you wanna piss off. She's popular, and a lot of girls who hate you like her." "Noted." "I'm serious, Allie." "Fine. I'll keep an eye on her. What do you want?" Shrugging, Campbell kicked at the leaves. "Elle wants to have dinner at home on Thanksgiving. Just the two of us. Can we do that?" "Elle wants to stay home?" "Surprised me, too. So? Can we get a free pass?" Allie looked him up and down. She looked away and chewed on her thumb, jiggling her leg as she considered. "Might be better if you do. Until we can figure out what to do about you and Becca, it's only going to piss people off to see you." "Is that something that can be resolved?" "I think so. But you know that if she's right about what she said and it was you, there's no way in hell I'm just letting you go again." "Fair enough." "I'll let Will know you're staying home. Have Elle give him the list of what you guys need, and we'll make sure it's ready for pick-up the night before." "Thanks, Allie." "Campbell?" Allie called after him. He stopped, looking over his shoulder. Allie pulled her jacket in tighter around herself. "You told Cassandra everything. Everything. She wouldn't have just let you walk away, if it'd been you." "Maybe. Whatever keeps you from throwing me into the fucking wine cellar." "Sometimes I think I still see her. Out of the corner of my eye." It was just blurted out, like some sort of terrible secret. Campbell paused, then kept going without responding. Same, he wanted to say, but what good did it do to dwell on memories or hallucinations or imprints left behind? There was nothing he could say that would give Allie the comfort she needed, or soothe the pain left behind by Cassandra's death. Better to say nothing at all. Besides, the dead were dead. The living had plenty to worry about. Campbell was in the middle of his work shift the day before Thanksgiving when Sam showed up, deep creases on his forehead and a jittery, restless energy around him. At first, Campbell wondered if Sam had shown up to see one of his friends-- he and Gretchen had been part of the school LGBT Alliance group-- but he headed right at Campbell with the same look he'd had when they'd first arrived in the new world. Something a few paces beyond worry. "Can we talk?" Sam asked, signing only. "Somewhere private?" Campbell nodded and followed Sam outside the main work area, where no one would easily see them. "What's wrong?" he signed back. "You look like Queer Eye got cancelled." Sam tried to laugh, but broke into tears instead. "Becca's pregnant." Fuck. Campbell moved closer, inviting contact; Sam immediately mushed himself against Campbell. Sam was whimpering something, but like hell if Campbell understood it. Pregnant. Becca was pregnant. Campbell's first reaction was almost something like victory-- a baby meant blood, blood meant a blood test, blood test meant potential vindication. He shoved that thought aside and focused on what his real reaction should be. Was Becca healthy? Was she getting vitamins? How would they manage complications? Hell, who was going to help her give birth? It wasn't something anyone could do on their own. And if anything happened to Becca, Sam... "I don't know," Sam continued. "I found out prom night, and then everything happened and I thought we had time to figure things out. But Kelly found out, and other people will soon, too, and I just... I don't know what to do." "What do you mean?" Sam hesitated. Oh, there was more to the story. He let out a long, slow exhale, his hands shaking when he answered. "We agreed to tell people I'm the father." "You?" Campbell thought over it. Becca and Sam were best friends. Sure, people could ask questions, but people did weird stuff all the time. People sometimes dabbled, and after all, bisexual people existed. Who was to say? Plus it was a softer story. Unfortunately, there was one big flaw. "Will people go for it, considering what people overheard at Halloween?" "We're not kids anymore. I've learned how to lie." "Well, then. Why are you worrying?" When Sam didn't answer, Campbell ran the situation over in his head until he found the puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. Okay, so there were two big flaws. "Something happened with Grizz." "He came to the library and tried to flirt with me in BSL, and I said I'd teach him ASL." Campbell tried to bite back a smirk. "How about that." "It's not going to be funny when he wants nothing to do with a teen dad!" "It'll be less funny if he hears it from someone else first. Tell him a good story, Sam. You experimented with her nine months ago, the condom broke, and you just want to be honest with him. Reasonable, right?" "Is it really that easy?" "Cross my heart." Sam studied Campbell's face. Whatever he was going to say, the ping of both of their phones going off at the same time cut him off. Community alert. "Time for the first group to pick up their food rations," he said, sighing. He glanced up from his phone. "Are you sure you don't want to come to Thanksgiving dinner?" "I feel like this dinner is kinda the last shot between me and Elle," Campbell admitted. "But I'm sure you know about those rumors, too." "Not really. I try not to listen." Campbell groaned while Sam chuckled quietly. "Seriously, funny guy, if you're set on the idea then maybe you could stop by after. We can eat walnuts out of the can and throw darts at a picture of dad." Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny smile on his face. "A real family holiday." He rested his hand on Campbell's shoulder before he left. "Good luck, Campbell." "You, too. Go get 'im." Harry approached as Sam left, watching him walk away. "What was that about?" "It's nothing," Campbell muttered. Harry looked over at him and raised both eyebrows. Campbell let out a tiny growl. "Fine. It was just boyfriend troubles." "And he said something about Elle." "What, you can read ASL now?" "I thought you'd have been more concerned about the fact I was spying on you." Campbell shoved the broom he was using to the ground, giving it a kick for good measure. "Everything's going to hell, okay? The last thing I needed was this shit with Becca, but I can't even be mad about that because it's not like it's my life at stake or anything. Still, now things with Elle are fucked up. They've been fucked up for a while. I just don't see how we can bounce back from this when she doesn't trust me. Shitty Thanksgiving food isn't gonna fix anything." "No." Harry stepped into Campbell's line of fire, resting one hand on his cheek. "Hey. Breathe, okay? What's going on with Becca?" "Like you don't know." "I've been sleeping eighteen hours a day. I don't know anything." Campbell leaned into Harry's touch. The whole story came spilling out in one go, and Harry's eyes went wide. "I promised I wouldn't say anything," Campbell finished. "But I'm guessing she thinks it was me, and told Elle. Who fucking knows." "Jesus fucking Christ. I had no idea. I never heard anything about it." "No one bragged about it around school, either." "That's scary shit. Poor Becca. Why is this coming up now, though?" "Becca..." Trailing off, Campbell shook his head. Sam shouldn't have told Campbell in the first place, but Campbell sure as hell didn't have the right to pass the news along. It wasn't his secret to tell. "I guess it all got to be too much to keep to herself." "I guess. Damn. And Elle?" "You can't tell me you haven't noticed how she's been acting." "I have, but I guess I just... I was hoping it would blow over." "Either it'll work out or it won't. That's just the truth of it." Harry brushed Campbell's cheek with his thumb, then pulled back and picked up the fallen broom. He handed it to Campbell. "Look. I'll go to the Thanksgiving dinner with everyone else so you can have the house to yourselves. Have a nice night. Relax. Be your charming, vaguely exasperating self. Things will work out eventually." What answer could Campbell give? He managed to mumble a thank you, took the broom, and kept working. Campbell had always known that his life would be different than it would be for people who weren't like him. In a lot of ways, he was still lucky. He'd had a roof over his head and access to resources a lot of people didn't have. He'd had some sort of support structure, and managed to pull himself out of the dirt enough to work towards some sort of recover. Some sort of normal. But he wasn't like everyone else. His biology and brain chemistry had seen to that, and he knew it was going to be a lifelong struggle to maintain a balance between what felt natural to him and what he knew society demanded. Maybe losing Elle was the price for getting Sam back, for making a friend in Grizz. When one door opens, some other door closes. Campbell knew it was the ASPD telling him that it was already over, time to brace for impact and be ready to move on when the fatal blow came, but it felt so real. So true. Elle had already been through enough. Her mouth said she wanted to keep trying, but he could see it in her eyes that the time of death had already been called. They just didn't know when it was, yet. But... One more try. One more chance. Thanksgiving morning, they went to the cafeteria to pick up their take-home rations. It was as fancy as it got, these days-- boxed stuffing, instant mashed potatoes with instant gravy, a can of cranberry sauce, and a turkey. Elle sneaked away with a small bundle of goods wrapped in plastic grocery bags. Mysterious, but Campbell wasn't about to pry. When they got home, Campbell tried to help unpack the food, but Elle swatted his hand away from the bags. "Can you get the bowl?" Campbell snagged the mixing bowl Elle had gestured to and handed it to her; Elle was busying herself with the food, and didn't even look at him. "This makes me happy," he said, trying to start some sort of conversation. "Our first Thanksgiving together." "Good." When he went to open something for her, Elle put her hand on his chest. "It's gonna take me a few hours, so I need you to get out of the kitchen." "Oh. I thought..." "It's okay. Go amuse yourself. Go and take a nap." The casual tone to Elle's voice didn't really do much to mask the dismissal. Maybe she was just nervous about cooking? Campbell stepped out of the way, but stopped near the edge of the kitchen. "I was just hoping to help. I never really liked Thanksgiving before this." "No? Why not?" "I mean, you know what my parents were like. Holidays, special occasions. They didn't really want me around other kids. Other families." "You did tell me about that." "Forced affection and merriment really isn't my thing." Campbell noticed the odd look Elle gave him. "It was just difficult, seeing that they actually felt all those Hallmark movie things towards each other. They really missed each other. Just eating together made them happy. They really were sad to say goodbye." Elle stopped arranging the ingredients. "But you didn't feel those things." "Maybe I gave up, when I realized they didn't feel that way about me. They never missed me." Moving towards Elle, Campbell stroked her hair. It hit him then, how much he wanted her to stay. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. He knew he sounded desperate when he spoke again, when he cupped her face in his hands, but Campbell needed some assurance. Any assurance. "This is different, though. Right? We're different." "Campbell." Elle took his hands and moved them from her face. She stepped back, and for a moment, Campbell thought that was it. She was done, it was over, they couldn't go on like this. Instead, she reached into the plastic bag and brought out a can of pumpkin. "It was going to be a surprise, but..." "Really? I thought you hated pumpkin pie. You like, literally gagged when you saw it at the Halloween party." "I mean, I do, but you don't." She gave him a little kiss on the cheek before shooing him. "Now get out of my kitchen so I can cook." Had he just misread the situation? Campbell left the kitchen confused, and more than a little torn. Was he just seeing a catastrophe where there wasn't one? ASPD did involve seeing threats where there wasn't any, and overreacting. Like a self defense mechanism dialed up to twelve, it whispered that every little thing and every single person was a danger. Campbell knew it wasn't true. Maybe in this case, it also wasn't true that Elle wanted to leave. Maybe she really was just stressed out and worried about what Becca had said. Maybe she really did want to stick it out and give him a chance to prove himself. She had before, hadn't she? Maybe this time was no different. She just needed time. Campbell wandered off to Harry's room, helping him get ready for the group dinner and playing a few rounds of Smash Bros. It didn't feel right letting Elle do all the work, but if that was what she wanted, well, they both knew to just stay out of her way. "I should go watch the football game," Harry sighed once it was three o' clock. He stood and stretched, grabbing his jacket from the back of his desk chair. "Try and be social or whatever. You gonna be okay if I do?" "Yeah. Go watch people get concussions." "I'll have my phone on. Text if she tries to go all Sid Vicious on you." Campbell snorted, but kept his eyes on the television screen. He could see Harry lingering in the doorway, just for a moment, but then he was gone. Harry said something to Elle on the way out-- they both laughed-- and then the front door shut. The silence felt strange. Campbell popped in a Walking Dead DVD and settled in to binge watch for a few hours. The sky outside had turned dark by the time Elle peeked her head into the room. "Hey. I think it's gonna be ready in about twenty minutes. Can you come set the table?" "Sure, babe."   At least it was finally something to do. Campbell hopped up and gathered the plates, the silverware, napkins; by the time Elle came into the dining room, he'd managed to get everything in place and light some candles. The dim, golden lighting was perfect. All the food, plated up, looked perfect. Campbell found some holiday music, some classical stuff that he'd swore he'd never listen to once he'd moved out on his own, and put it on. It wasn't his taste, but it seemed appropriate. All that was left was to bring in the food. Elle was hovering around the food in the kitchen, staring hard at the slices of carved turkey. "I know you don't like meat, so I didn't know if I should bring the turkey out here, or if you wanted something else instead." "Hey, it's okay. I mean, I have to get over it eventually, right? Why not tonight?" "Are you sure? Because I could--" Cutting off a tiny piece of the least gross-looking slice of turkey, Campbell shoved it in his mouth. The taste was foreign and made him want to gag, but he managed to get it down without flinching. "See? It'll be really good with the cranberry sauce." "I'm glad it's okay. Sorry if anything tastes funny, or something. It's the first time I've ever made anything like a traditional American meal." "Seriously? Why not?" "My family's from Ireland originally, so my mom's idea of Thanksgiving was a little different. You know. Lamb stew. We never did the whole, turkey and stuffing and decorating." "Why are we sitting here, then?" Campbell wondered. "We should be at the church with everyone else. We could even bring something to share. The pie or something. Be neighborly." "But I already made all this food, I wouldn't want it to go to waste." "C'mon. We can put it in the fridge and save it for leftovers. I mean, I don't wanna even see half of those people, but you liked Helena and Becca, and the improv class is doing something fun tonight. A traditional Thanksgiving really is best with friends." "No, no. I just, I had my heart set on a romantic evening, just the two of us." "We eat almost every meal, just us." Campbell couldn't puzzle out the sudden shift in Elle's mood. "Or with Harry. I thought maybe you'd like some variation." Elle met his eyes, then glanced at the food. "Maybe it would be nice to walk over there and see everyone. Do you want to try a slice of pie while I get ready to go? I don't want to take it if it tastes bad." "Deal." She gave him a smile as she cut him a generous slice, handing it over as she left the room. Campbell let out the breath he'd been holding; whatever weird argument that had been starting up seemed to have, thankfully, settled. He snagged a fork and took a bite of the pumpkin pie. Right away, Campbell could taste that there was something weird about it. It was too sweet, in an almost sickening way. Too much condensed milk? Maple syrup, maybe? Making sure Elle wasn't looking, Campbell gently slid the rest of the slice into the garbage can and covered it up with some pieces of trash to hide it. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, and it wasn't like it was objectively disgusting. There were just only so many compromises he could make in a night. Turkey, he could try and deal with. Pumpkin pie with a pound of sugar? No. Leave that to the carb fiends at the church. "Was it okay?" Elle asked as she came back in. "I've never made a pie before." Campbell offered her a bright smile. "Yeah, it was great." He picked it up and headed towards the door, slipping his feet into his sneakers. "Ready to go?" She eyed the pie in his hands, but nodded and followed him out the door. The walk to the church was quiet, but at least the weather was mild and the sky was clear, with stars glittering overhead and leaves swirling around their feet. The church was humming with activity inside, though more than a couple people fell silent when they saw Campbell. Well, whatever. He ignore them and focused on Allie, who was moving toward them at a brisk pace. "Campbell. Elle." She smiled, but it was strained. "I didn't expect to see you two here." What the hell were you thinking by coming here, Campbell translated in his head. "I wanted to bring Elle. It's her first actual Thanksgiving." He held up the pumpkin nightmare for Allie to see. Allie's eyes went right to the missing slice. "She made pie." "Wow. Well, if you guys want to take a seat, feel free." "Cool. Thanks." Elle reached out and grabbed his arm as he moved towards the table to set the pie down. "Campbell, I can do that. Just let me--" "I'm right here. I can do it." "But I made it. I should be the one to put it over there." Campbell stopped and looked to her. Her voice sounded almost frantic, and honestly, the pie wasn't anywhere close to good but she couldn't possibly be that worried about it. He set the pie down among the other pies, and led Elle off to the side where there weren't any people to listen in. "Babe, are you feeling okay? You've been acting weird all evening." "I'm just not feeling well. I feel sick in my stomach. Can we just go?" "It's probably because we haven't eaten all day." "Please..." Elle curled her arms around herself. "Please don't get mad." Campbell noticed, then, that there were tears in her eyes, and she winced when he went to try and comfort her. His stomach sank as he saw the one thing he had hoped not to see. Fear. "Woah, hey. I'm not mad, sweetheart, I just don't understand what's going on. Do you... Are you worried I'm gonna hurt you?" "You act one way sometimes, and then another, and then people say things and I just want to make you happy. I thought this would make you happy." Her hands were shaking when she reached up and touched his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I want you to be happy with me." He wanted to be sick. "I get it. We've had a lot of ups and downs since we came here. I'm trying my best, Elle. I am happy with you. I really am." His throat squeezed shut. Fuck, he didn't feel all that great, either, and all this wasn't helping. "Can you just try? Just a few bites or something? If you still feel sick, we can go home." Elle sniffled. She didn't say anything. She just turned and headed out to the main floor, heading towards the table where Gretchen, her girlfriend, and a few others were chatting. Campbell got her a plate of food, but she picked at it, and at that point he didn't really feel like eating. It had been a mistake to push her. He tried to plan out the apology in his head and find some way to save things, but Elle's words kept playing in his head. People say things. The way she shrank from his touch. It was time to let go. For now, anyways. Maybe someday he would be better, and could prove that he wasn't the piece of shit people kept saying he was, but obviously it wasn't the right time. Campbell had wanted to protect her. He'd hoped that maybe, together, they could stay sane. But he had once been afraid he would hurt Sam, inevitably. Instead, it looked like the one he was going to hurt most was Elle, and there was only one way to keep her safe. Like Sam, he had to let her go, and hope that someday it would work out. Things had seemed calmer, at least, until Elle mumbled something about more potatoes. She took her plate and vanished into the crowd without a word, leaving Campbell to sit there alone with Gretchen looking at him like he was sprouting devil horns. Campbell sunk his head into his hands and pretended he was anywhere but there. After a few minutes, hen Elle didn't come back, he decided to go looking. He found her arguing with someone else over her pie. Elle had taken a huge slice, and the other girl-- Lotus, maybe-- was giving her shit over it. Campbell sidled up next to Elle and fixed Lotus with a cold glare, and thankfully, Lotus backed down. Not before taking the rest of the pie with her, but still. "Are you okay?" he asked Elle, who looked pale. "What happened?" Elle smiled weakly. "I just wanted to make sure all my friends got some, but I guess Lotus thought I was taking it all for myself." "Well, screw her, yeah?" "Yeah. I'm just gonna go say hi to a couple of my friends." "Sure. I'll be here." Campbell was loitering around the punchbowl, waiting for Elle, when a hand glided along his shoulders. He could smell a familiar hint of cologne. "Hey, Harry." "Hey." Harry leaned against the wall next to him. "I thought you were staying home. What happened?" "Long story, but I guess we're going back home. She said she felt sick." "Do you need me to drive you guys?" Unfortunately, Helena stood up and gave a speech just then, and announced that she and Luke were getting married. Campbell hissed at the cheering, a headache building up behind his eyes and making his vision start to swim. What the hell? Maybe they had some sort of cold, or something. It was the season, and it wasn't like anyone had gotten their flu vaccines, or knew what new or different diseases the mirror world had. "Yeah, that might be good." He took a step, and the ground under him spun ever so slightly. Fuck. Why had he even tried? They should have just stayed home. "Let me go find her." "Alright. I'll meet you at the door." Campbell scanned the crowd as Harry left, trying to find Elle in the hustle and bustle. Maybe Sam or Grizz would know where she was? But he didn't see them, either. Allie's table was empty. Helena and Luke were with the rest of the guard. Where was she? Had she just left on her own, without even saying goodbye? Campbell felt a bubble of nausea form in his stomach at the thought, but then he spotted her with Becca near the bathrooms. Both of them were huddled together and making sharp, urgent gestures. Campbell had no idea what was going on with them, and he wasn't about to find out. It would be easier to just wait until they were done talking. It didn't take too long. Elle spotted him waiting, and hurried over. "Can we go home now?" she asked. Elle was hunched in on herself and looked out of breath. "Please? I want to get out of here." "Harry's getting the car. C'mon." He put his arm around her as they walked outside, more to hold himself steady than anything else. Campbell could feel Elle shaking, hard, but was that illness or anxiety? Was it the cold weather? He didn't know anymore. All that mattered was getting home before whatever was going on got even worse. Harry helped them both up the steps, and got them upstairs. Elle shrugged them both off and headed to the bathroom, grabbing her pajamas along the way. "Are you okay?" Campbell followed her into the bathroom. He just wanted to lay down and sleep, but he couldn't leave Elle to fend for herself if she was sick. "Do you need me to get you anything?" Elle shook her head, but when he got closer, he could see that she was sheet-white and sweating. "I'm gonna take a bath and get sleep." "Yeah, me too." Campbell knew that he should leave and let her do what she needed to do, but he hesitated in the doorway. "Look, Elle... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed for you to go when you didn't want to. I just thought it'd be fun." Silence. Campbell waited another heartbeat, then went to his room and laid down. He closed his eyes, willing the universe to stop spinning. It was bad enough of a day, wasn't it, without everything churning? Campbell burrowed under his blankets, swallowing over and over as he began to hypersalivate. His stomach was reeling, but his body wouldn't vomit. Not yet. "Cassandra," Campbell whispered to the air. "I wish you were here." He could play the game he played on the bridge, before. If he just held still, very still...