Author's Note: It's my 50th story! I'm so proud to be able to say that and it's the halfway point to my ulitmate goal of 100. Of course, I won't stop writing after I hit it but still…yay!
After much deliberation (and reading some awesome early stuff), I have decided that this 50th story will be the AU of the aftermath of the Date that I promised all those months ago. It's not going to be too long, maybe 5 chapters but they'll be pretty heavy. As always, House and Cameron will end up together in the end but I'm going to make it hard as hell.
I've always wondered what would've happened if Cameron had made a true (non Wombat related) effort to move on from him and I'm going to take that idea and run with it. Updates on Mosh Pit will resume soon (I'm stuck in my drafting) and I hope you guys enjoy this fic.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
"You live under the delusion that you can fix everything that isn't perfect. That's why you married a man who was dying of cancer. You don't love, you need. And now that your husband is dead, you're looking for your new charity case. That's why you're going out with me. I'm twice your age, I'm not great-looking, I'm not charming; I'm not even nice. What I am is what you need. I'm damaged…"
Those words had been meant to make her give up, to have her move on to someone better, healthier, younger. It was the sane thing to do and the most rational. After all, they'd never work…
Still, Greg House hadn't expected her to actually do it. After all, if she was "in love" with him like everyone (and his heart) said she was, then she wouldn't have let all that vitriol stop her from chasing him. Hell, if she had just said something, anything in rebuttal that night, he would've finally let her catch him. Yet, Allison Cameron surprised him by not only taking over the Immunology department (the Head finally retired) instead of coming back to work with him, she had gone off and started Dating.
The men weren't from PPTH or any other hospital but they were still dates. Perfectly acceptable dates. He had "accidentally" run into her with one of them at the movies and she hadn't even broken a sweat in introducing the guy, Paul the Karate Instructor. It was like he didn't exist for her anymore. Oh sure, she'd come down for a consult and she'd banter a little with him but other than that, it was gone.
No more doe eyed looks, no more fussing, no more loaded conversations…it was over. She was over him and happier without him intruding in her life and weak little heart.
He hated it. He absolutely, fucking, hated it! Of all people to give up on him, House had never expected her to. She was Cameron, damn it! She didn't give up on anyone, even when it was good for her…until now, until him. It hurt like a son of a bitch and it pissed him the fuck off that she had the power to do that.
Right now, he was watching as she filed patient charts in the Clinic, looking as painfully gorgeous as ever. She had let her hair grow down to her shoulders and she had thrown out the curling iron. It was a loose triumphant mane of cascading waves that his hands itched to bury themselves in. She had started eating more and exercising with more than that damned treadmill so she had filled out. Unlike Cuddy, her curves were more defined and subtle but still managed to strain against the little vests and cap sleeved tops she wore.
To add insult to injury, she had started wearing what could only be called fuck me heels. They were usually a bright color, standing out against the neutral tones she preferred, adding a zap of grown ass woman to her librarian look and a sultry sway to every little step she took.
All of it added up to a loud and clear daily (and nightly) taunt from karma: See what you could've had if you had just stopped being a cowardly idiot ass? All she wanted was for you to just attempt to love her and you couldn't even do that. You're a failure, a waste of space and unworthy of anyone's affection, especially hers.
The fact that the taunt came in the dulcet tones of his father, Stacy, and Wilson combined didn't help matters.
As she turned to head back to the Waiting Room of morons, their eyes met head on for the first time since the restaurant. Instead of the softness he had expected, frost went over the light blue orbs and she looked away before walking off, an obvious dismissal.
He'd never admit it out loud but seeing that disgust shattered with little of a heart he had left.
/
She knew exactly why James Wilson had just climbed onto the bar stool next to her.
Deciding to let him sweat a bit, Cameron continued eating her turkey burger and chili cheese fries, her once weekly splurge of junk food. After the restaurant, she had gone home and drank every bit of alcohol she could find. It was a self pitying drunkenness but also a turning point. Although she should've known better than to put herself out there so blatantly, she had done it anyway and lost the gamble.
She had also lost the motivation to fight for more with House. He obviously didn't want her and even if he did, he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. Fine. She was done. In that "Doneness", she had taken the freed up Head of Immunology position and moved to the other side of PPTH, far away from Diagnostics and him. Other than cases, she didn't bother to seek him out and when he went on one of his downward spirals, she didn't run to his side and even worry about him. Let the others do it. Let Stacy or Cuddy or some other sap fall in love with Greg House and be dragged over nails for it.
And she had started dating again. There were no excuses not to anymore. All of them were with House and she was absolutely, positively done with him.
She wasn't over him, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn't going to pine for him…or be guilted back into the line of fire.
"Say your piece, Wilson. I'd like to head home soon." she urged flatly before taking a sip of her iced tea.
"He's miserable."
"He's House."
"He misses you."
"He misses his punching bag. Tell Chase to dye his hair and he'll get over it."
"He loves you, Allison. Can you see that? He needs you…"
His words were cut off by her cold laugh.
"All that man loves is himself and his drugs. He manipulates and breaks people down to dust. I'm done letting him and you'd be much better off if you did the same. You're a good person, James. I'd hate to see House destroy that."
"Like he's done to you." Wilson spat icily before slamming his shot glass down and leaving.
Cameron watched him and turned away with a shrug, continuing her meal. Let him think what he wanted. He wasn't alone. Everyone blamed her for House's increasingly volatile behavior and obvious depression. Chase and Foreman pleaded with her to fix whatever happened but she refused, citing that the problem was House himself and nothing, short of "divine" intervention or an overdose would fix it. He wasn't her problem anymore…
Lies. All frosty, brave, logical lies.
Little did she know that soon, those lies would fall in the face of the his next actions.