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01 July 2009 @ 12:13 am
seven letter word for liar 16/19  
“Oh,” Cameron remarked, finding it a bit bizarre that Cuddy knew so much about House’s personal life. House deflected and evaded, lied and mocked, but when he told the truth, when he was honest and unusually vulnerable, well, those were the times when he was far from well. If House had opened up to Cuddy, Cameron was certain he was not fine. House opening up to anyone, perhaps excluding Wilson was cause to be concerned. house, md. 16/19



When Kutner died, Cameron clung to Chase fiercely. The need to know she was loved and wanted was overwhelming. She let herself fall into him, and he seemed relieved that she had finally shown her buried compassion for him. She was always so composed, even around him. She knew he’d welcomed the slight change in demeanor.

When Chase almost died, Cameron took an extra shift at the hospital. After Chase had been examined and determined as healthy, she convinced him that Cuddy had begged her to stay, kissing him lightly before sending him home in a cab. The truth was, she couldn’t be near him. She couldn’t look at him without losing her mind.

The cafeteria at three a.m. was a very lonely place to be. Cameron liked it here at night, when most of the lights were out and the room was still. People bustled in and out of the eatery all day, banging trays, counting change, gossiping with co-workers. The entire hospital was fast-paced and stressing, her days filled with quick strides and hasty examinations. She could only relax when surrounded by silence, and she found a quiet friend in the large, muted room at night.

A cup of coffee sat in front of her, untouched and most likely chilled by time. Cameron’s forehead rested in her hand, hand propped up by an elbow that was digging roughly into the metal table. Her right leg was crossed severely over the left, her foot dangling in mid-air, toe pointed towards the ground.

By the time Cuddy found her, she could no longer detect any feeling in her left leg. She slid her arm down lazily, head dropping down slightly without the aid of her hand to hold it up. She looked up tiredly, wide eyed rimmed with worry and lack of sleep.

Cuddy sat down across from her, her eyes mirroring Cameron’s. She offered a weak half-smile as she folded her arms into her chest.

“Had to bail Wilson out of jail,” Cuddy spoke, her voice startling Cameron. She’d become too accustomed to the quiet in the wake of the aftermath of Chase’s disaster of a bachelor party.

Cameron perked up, just barely, at the mention of Wilson.

“House threw the bachelor party at Wilson’s condo,” Cuddy went on to explain. “Wilson was found wandering around the neighborhood, pantsless, looking for his own house.” Cuddy rolled her eyes, thoroughly exasperated. “Foreman, Thirteen, and Taub had to diagnose a patient while sobering up and Chase nearly died.” She turned to Cameron. “But out of all of those strange scenarios, what I find the strangest is the fact that after almost losing your fiancé, you’re hiding in here, alone.”

Yes, alone. Cameron hadn’t wanted to be near him. She didn’t particularly feel like being near anybody at the moment, and what she found strange was the fact that Cuddy was the one talking to her about this.

“I just...needed to think,” Cameron evaded, eyes darting from Cuddy’s.

Cuddy sighed. “You’re getting married. You can’t run away from him every time you don’t feel like dealing with his shit.”

Says the woman who’s never been married, Cameron thought wickedly. She plucked that thought from her brain. Cuddy was trying to help, she assured herself. Even if Cuddy didn’t understand Cameron, she had to assume Cuddy was merely offering advice.

“I’m not running,” Cameron said shortly. “I’m sitting.”

Cuddy neither flinched, nor looked surprised by Cameron’s abrupt comment. There was something familiar about her expression, amused almost. It was the same look that could be found in House’s eyes whenever he attempted to dissect a particularly curious puzzle. This was how Cuddy was staring at her now. As if she could be analyzed and cured if Cuddy just asked the right questions. As if something was wrong with her.

“Is Wilson okay?” Cameron asked, not actually changing the subject, but rather defaulting back to Cuddy’s prior statement.

Cuddy nodded.

“And the patient?”

Cuddy nodded again. “Sarcoidosis. Taub figured it out.”

Cameron arched an eyebrow. She’d never come across a patient with sarcoidosis during her fellowship with House, though they frequently considered sarcoidosis when diagnosing. “Where was House?” she asked, noting that Cuddy mentioned everyone except him.

“He’s...” Cuddy paused, appearing to struggle with what to say next. Cameron met her eyes intently, not wanting to give Cuddy that opportunity to lie. Her tone seemed grave, and Cameron felt compelled to know that House was all right. “Insomnia,” Cuddy said at last, giving a slight nod of the head to Cameron. “Ever since Kutner...well, he hasn’t been able to get to sleep.”

“Oh,” Cameron remarked, finding it a bit bizarre that Cuddy knew so much about House’s personal life. House deflected and evaded, lied and mocked, but when he told the truth, when he was honest and unusually vulnerable, well, those were the times when he was far from well. If House had opened up to Cuddy, Cameron was certain he was not fine. House opening up to anyone, perhaps excluding Wilson was cause to be concerned.

“Back to Chase,” Cuddy insisted, forcing Cameron to meet her eye. “What are you doing here? Do you want...don’t you want to be with him?”

Cameron shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her index finger grazing over a torn cuticle on her thumbnail. She made a fist under the table, trying to alleviate some tension from her body.

“Cameron....” Cuddy began, her voice sad and disappointed.

“He could have died tonight,” Cameron said firmly, catching Cuddy off-guard. “He could have died and all I could think about was losing him. If he had...” She paused, her voice cutting off. She waited a moment before regaining control of herself. She looked Cuddy in the eye. “I can’t lose another husband,” she said simply.

Sympathy flooded Cuddy’s face. She shot Cameron a supportive grin. “But you didn’t lose him,” she insisted.

Cameron shrugged, well aware of that fact. “But I could,” she said plainly.

“You should be having this conversation with him,” Cuddy remarked. “Not me.”

“I know,” Cameron replied, knowing full well that she ought to be exchanging worries and doubts with Chase. She should be emptying her pent up worry with him by her side, not alone in a deserted and dimly lit cafeteria.

“Then...?” Cuddy let the question linger, prompting Cameron to answer. Her interest mystified Cameron.

“There’s just...something I have to tell him,” Cameron said slowly, taking time to form the words fully. “And I’m not sure how he’s going to take it.”

Cuddy blinked back in surprise, a million different emotions crossing over her face. “I...you...you shouldn’t....” She sighed, rubbing her temple with her index finger slowly. She turned back to Cameron. “If this is about House, then I think you should....”

Cameron scowled, eyes narrowing. “Unbelievable,” she remarked loudly, quickly rising to her feet and pushing her chair in. She glared at Cuddy, her sudden gust of anger clouded her head. Cuddy looked alarmed and frozen in indecision. Cameron scoffed.

“You know,” Cameron continued, hands slamming firmly onto her hips. “If you want to know something about House, you’d have better luck just asking. Don’t induce a twenty minute conversation under false pretenses just to try to elicit information out of me,” she snapped, rushing past Cuddy. “I’m not going to put your mind at ease by telling you that House only has eyes for you and confirming for the millionth time that I’m not secretly pining for him. Like you said, no one should be with House.” She paused. “Least of all you.”

A stunned Cuddy, the heavy sound of clinking heels, and a loud clang as the door swiftly shut was all that Cameron left behind in the aftermath of her fury.


She bit her lip as Chase walked out on her, not pausing to look back or come to any sort of agreement. Then again, she wondered if she had ever really given him a choice. Hadn’t she known he wouldn’t understand why she wanted to keep her husband’s sperm? The words sounded crazy even in her head. Chase must have thought her insane. In fact, she was beginning to think she was insane, wondering what she had hoped to accomplish by surprising Chase with this news.

Part of her thought that deep down she wanted to give him an easy way out of their relationship. She had doubts, that was true, and perhaps she wanted the blame of the fall out to go to him. Because as far as she could tell, in the wake of any other impending disaster that could possibly lead to their breakup, she would be the bad guy. If he left over this, she might seem crazy, but she didn’t seem evil. She wouldn’t be ostracized at the hospital.

This idea didn’t satisfy her though, because she did want to marry Chase. Everything was happening much sooner than she’d planned on, but she was, in retrospect, happy about the prospect of spending her life with Chase. He adored her and while he didn’t quite understand her, he was patient and willing to learn how to navigate her. Every time she exhibited a new flaw, he not only forgave her for her imperfection, but he seemed to love her even more for being damaged.

At the thought of being damaged, her mind flashed instantly to House, her brain beginning to recollect the conversation they had had during her only official date with him.

No. She wouldn’t allow herself to be persuaded by the past. What was done was done, and she was burning bridges, turning as much into ash as she could stand. This problem was about her and Chase, and for once, House wasn’t a part of it.

Perhaps the reason this issue was so significant was the fact that it was absolutely unrelated to House. They’d become so accustomed to relating the cause of their problems to House, pegging their insecurities on their past experiences with House. Chase, though newly confident and respected in his new position of leadership at the hospital, would always be plagued by the feeling of not being good enough, of not measuring up to some unreachable standard that House always seemed to hold him up to. House had let Cameron feel like she was capable, though those moments were rare, and the fact that he’d told her he was proud of her and hadn’t spoken the same words to either Chase or Foreman was a huge dividing line that separated the bond the three of them had built. Foreman could fight back in little ways since he was part of the team again, and Chase could be sarcastic and cool with House, but deep down, Cameron knew House would always see through their facades. Underneath of their controlled exteriors, they were begging for acceptance or at least acknowledgment, a reward he had only ever bestowed upon her. She could still feel the affect he had on her, same as the other two, but she would always know that he regarded her in a higher manner, or at least, wanted everyone else to think that way.

This inexplicable pull to House was never vocalized by either her or Chase. Whenever she and Chase had a problem that could be linked back to House, the argument usually went by unresolved, both parties apologizing, not wanting to relive all of the tempestuous emotions of their time as House’s fellows. Yet, now she and Chase faced a new problem, a problem without House’s impact, and they couldn’t just skate around the issue this time. They had to resolve it.

She wondered briefly if she should just tell him that she needed to hold on to the last tangible shred of her husband’s existence, however crazy it may seem. She needed Chase to know that she wasn’t clinging to the past in an effort to prepare for the possibility of a divorce. She just needed to make sure she never forgot about him, her former husband. She needed a reminder of who she had been and where she had come from, a piece of evidence that life had indeed existed before House, no matter how painful those memories were. She needed to remember that House did not define who she was. She had to recall the times before House in order to realize that she could live happily with Chase, after House. She couldn’t let that go.

So many things never said. She was the queen of regrets in this way. She and Chase were always missing each other, his timing too fast, her actions too small. They meant well, but never said what they meant, leaving the other feeling rejected and uncertain. Perhaps Chase could be secure about the future of their marriage, opting to live in hope and believe that deep down, beneath all of their baggage, he could reach her. She wasn’t naive enough to believe this was true, though she did hope that he ended up being right in the end. She wanted to believe in his faith in their love, but she’d been turned into a skeptic. She needed him to accept that battered part of herself. She wasn’t the optimist she had once been. She’d changed and she would certainly change again. She needed to know he could handle this.

If she just told him, explained clearly her motives for wanting to hold on to that remaining piece of her husband, she knew he’d understand. But she felt hurt and upset that he didn’t instinctively know this already, that he was mistrusting her intentions all over again. She couldn’t forever live feeling guilty and conspicuous. She wouldn’t do that to herself. She wouldn’t let Chase do that to her.

And so, she sat, teary-eyed and lost in her own head, trapped by the weight of a decision that she knew would shape the rest of her life.

Current Mood: gigglygiggly