The first arms I fall into are Cameron's.

"I got you," he whispers in my ear. "You're home."

The airport doesn't feel like home - loud and unwelcoming, sharp colors and frantic travellers.

He hugs me tight and kisses my cheek, and I close my eyes against his shoulder. He smells like soap and hockey rinks, his sweatshirt soft against my skin, his warm arms wrapped around me.

"You're okay," he whispers. "Okay?"

I don't want him to let me go, but he does, and Ms. Beckett hugs me next.

"Oh, Sam!" she says, pulling me tight. The familiar scent of the Cameron's house clings to her sweater, and I inhale deeply. "We missed you, honey. We're glad you're here. You must be exhausted. Let's grab your luggage and head home."

"Are we going to see Tom?"

"Yes, I was thinking we can just run by the house quick. You can shower, if you'd like, and we can grab a quick bite to eat before heading to the hospital? I don't want you to worry too much, Sam. The doctors will tell us more when we're there, alright?"

People always tell me that - don't worry too much. But I'm much too tired to do anything else.

Cameron doesn't leave me side, his fingers intertwined through mine as we get my suitcase. I feel his eyes on me, worried. He's so solid and real, next to me, it feels like a dream. "You look tired."

"Haven't slept much this week."

"How were exams?"

"Fine," I say. I ignore the fact that I skipped my most important exam. An automatic 0. One way or another, I was destined to fail.

He squeezes my hand, and a fresh wave of guilt courses through my veins. Cameron, I kissed a girl. He would never forgive me.

The ride home to St. Anne's is long and exhausting - Cameron sits in the backseat with me, and while I turn away from him, staring out the window, I jolt awake later with my head on his shoulder.

"We're here," he says softly.

St. Anne. Kids playing hockey in the streets, old-fashioned homes, the smoke from the factories. The sky is a dusty grey, like it normally is in the winter, and our street is just like I remembered - the corner store, old railroad tracks, chipped concrete, Cameron's cozy home. I ignore my own house, the windows dark and sad, like it hasn't had an occupant in years.

I drag my suitcase up the brick steps and Mrs. Beckett unlocks the front door. I've barely stepped inside when Hailey throws herself at me.

"Sam!" she shrieks. She's gotten bigger, swallowed by a large red sweatshirt, her blonde hair pulled up in a messy ponytail. She presses her cheek against my own as I pick her up, watching Cameron smile sadly at me.

"I missed you so much, Hailey," I say.

Veronica is next, and she kisses my cheek. "Welcome home," she says. She's chopped her hair - it's short now, tucked behind her ears, falling just above her shoulders. Her eyes are so similar to Cameron's, it's striking - and they are looking at me the same way. And I feel so incredibly sad.

"I missed you all so much," I say, feeling my cheeks begin to heat, pulling my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands. "So much."

Ms. Beckett waves me towards the kitchen. "Oh, Sam, we missed you too. You're family. Come on, there's leftover meatloaf. Have a bite before we head out, you must be starving."

I'm not, really. I think of the scrambled eggs Eliza forced me to eat this morning and my stomach churns. The exam is probably over by now. "Oh -"

Cameron saves me. "Let's bring your suitcase to the bedroom, first," he says. He picks up my suitcase for me and I follow him down the hallway, and like I'm in a trance, my feet know where to go.

"You'll be sleeping on my bed," he says loudly as we walk. I glance at the photographs hanging on the wall. "And I'll be on an air mattress. Is that okay?"

I don't answer. I step into his room and he shuts the door behind him, and we are finally alone for the first time in a long time.

Room just as I remembered. Maple Leafs poster on the ceiling, unmade bed, and it all smells like him.

He sets down the suitcase and suddenly grabs me and hugs me tight, the unfinished hug from the airport, and there is something desperate about the way he is holding me. Like he could hug the sadness out of me. Like he loves me a lot. How could you do that, Cameron?

He pulls back and wipes a tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his eyes flickering around my face. "I'm sorry you're back like this."

"Me too."

"I hate this. I hate this for you."

I don't know what to say. "Can we go to the hospital?"

He doesn't say anything for awhile, until - "Yeah, of course. Let's go."

~

The last time I was at the St. Anne hospital, it was when I was hurt. It looks exactly the same now as it did then, with bright lights and fake plants and squeaky wheels. Nurses in teal scrubs run down the hallways, pushing carts with squeaky wheels.

The hospital isn't as modern as the one in Boston, nor big, nor busy; I think of Willem and Max, but it is as if they are light years away. I am lead down hallways. I am tired. Cameron is beside me. I feel as if I am watching myself on video, like a shaky camcorder, a body outside a body.

Ms. Beckett puts her hand on my shoulder, and doctors are talking to us.

"He's confused and disoriented, so keep that in mind. We're still currently running tests. We think it's a bad reaction to one of the medicines, which developed into a high temperature. We're trying to get his fever under control first, but he isn't doing well."

I am sitting by his hospital bed. He looks so much older than I remembered.

"Hey, Tom," I am saying. "It's Sam."

He is breathing heavily. His eyes are wide. "Sam?"

"Your nephew. Remember?"

"Not at school?"

"No, it's winter break. I don't have school for a few weeks."

"Education, good. Education is good. I didn't take it seriously." He arches his back suddenly, winces, twists his neck. A kind, weathered face, blue eyes like mine. Four years old, at Lake Ontario, trying to finding pebbles and stones on the stretch of beach. The thick scent of freshwater, fingertips running over cool rocks, cold water lapping against shoes.

"Can you get a doctor? Can you get a doctor?"

"The doctors are right here," I am saying.

"Catherine?"

"No, I'm Sam."

He shifts his head again and closes his eyes. "Sam?"

"Yes."

"Shouldn't you be at school?"

"No, I'm on holiday break. It'll be December in a couple days. That means Christmas is soon. Are you excited for Christmas?"

"Christmas, that's fun."

"We can exchange gifts. Remember what I got you last year? A baseball hat."

"Baseball hat?"

"And you got me a watch. I don't wear it as often as I should. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

He winces and murmurs something I don't understand.

"Hey, Tom? I love you, and I didn't say that enough. And I'm sorry."

A nurse is putting her hand on my shoulder, whispers something about changing IVs, about checking vitals. "I'll come back and visit you again soon," I am saying.

I fight nausea. Cameron is beside me, and we are standing in the hallway. "It'll be okay," he whispers in my ear, but he's a liar. "We'll be back tomorrow."

Fake plants and nurses in teal scrubs, and I am so tired and dizzy and things are happening so fast, I want everything to stop.

A/N i am legitimately sorry, when i'm sad i write sad things and this is sad lol! i swear things will get better, stay with me folks!! i'll try and update again super soon