Title: Something More

Author: chasswozzler

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I'm making no money from this, etc. etc. etc.

Rating: PG-13 (for now)

Spoilers: Let's be safe and just say everything in all four seasons.

Summary: "I don't miss you." She'd told him and she'd meant it. It seems as if Cameron has truly moved on, but might recent events result in a second chance for House and Cameron? (Post- Wilson's Heart)

Notes: It's been years since I've done this, but Season 4 on DVD has compelled me to try my hand at fanfiction again. All comments (good and bad) are, of course, welcome.

Epilogue

Cameron had finally finished all of House's outstanding paperwork. It hadn't been a job that she'd wanted, but Cuddy had insisted. While annoying and time-consuming, it had allowed her to participate in House's most recent case, which had been interesting. Now it was finished and she could get back to the ER. Before leaving, she took a final stab at getting House to take his paperwork seriously.

House listened as Cameron lectured him on keeping his patients' file up-to-date, ignoring her words and focusing on something else.

"You miss me." he commented with a smug little smirk.


"You miss me," she retorted, "You hired Thirteen to replace me."


"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he told her sarcastically, "All pretty girls are fungible." House fixed her with a knowing stare. "You're avoiding."


Cameron considered him for a second. "I miss the job. I miss running around playing private investigator. I miss," she looked wistful for a moment, "...the puzzles."


House made his offer again. "Seriously, I'll fire Thirteen." Then, worried that he might be revealing just how much he truly wanted her to come back, he added, "Or Kutner, if you think Thirteen is hot."


There was the briefest of pauses, a small silence while Cameron looked directly into House's eyes. "I don't miss you." she informed him, her matter-of-fact delivery giving the words a ring of both certainty and truth. With that, Cameron exited the office and House was left alone.

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Cuddy sat by House's bedside, attempting to finish the paperwork she'd had her assistant bring to her. Every few moments the sound of her pen scratches would pause as she glanced at the monitors tracking House's heart rate and other vitals.

It had been more than twenty four hours since House's seizure and it looked like he was going to recover. Earlier, his eyes had opened and he'd even been able to get out a few words before succumbing to exhaustion. Over the previous two days House had pushed his injured brain to the breaking point, trying to reconstruct the bus accident and discover what was killing Amber. He'd succeeded, but the victory was a hollow one. The information from his memories had told them what was shutting down Amber's body, but it also told them that there was nothing they could do. Despite all House had done to stimulate his memories, the drugs, the exhaustion, the electrical shocks sent directly to his brain, Amber had died in Wilson's arms. House hadn't even witnessed her death. His overtaxed body had finally rebelled and he'd been rushed to the ER, the victim of a massive seizure and bleeding in his brain.

Cuddy had remained in House's room as much as possible over the past day. The man was a sarcastic, bitter misanthrope, not to mention a constant pain-in-her-ass, but they'd known each other for years and she wanted to ensure that he was going to be alright. She also knew that no one else was likely going to be sitting vigil by House's bedside. House had always been good at insulting, demeaning and alienating people and few, if any, were likely to visit him. Even those he spent the most time with, the doctors on his team, made only perfunctory visits, more it seemed from professional courtesy than any heartfelt concern.

On previous occasions when House had ended up on the wrong side of the doctor-patient relationship, his best friend Wilson had always been there with Cuddy, waiting and worrying. That wasn't the case this time. Wilson was still reeling from the death of the woman he loved and couldn't seem to shake the feeling that House was partly responsible. This blame might seem irrational to some. House hadn't been driving the bus when it crashed, he hadn't given Amber the flu medication that poisoned her, nor caused the trauma that shut down her kidneys. He'd simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, it was because of him that Amber had also been there as well.

Cuddy replayed in her head the brief, unhappy conversation that she'd had with Wilson just an hour before.

"It was an accident." she said, "One of those terrible things that happen and can't be predicted or avoided."

"But he put her there! Accidents happen, but House was the one who put her in the path of that accident." Wilson's quiet tone belied the anger and sorrow he felt. "Amber shouldn't have been on that bus. She shouldn't have been out at all. If House hadn't been too drunk to get himself home, then Amber would have stayed safe in our apartment! She...she..." his voice trailed off, unable to continue.

"Wilson..." Cuddy began, searching for the right words, "that doesn't make this his fault. House didn't want this to happen, he couldn't have known that it was coming."

"Who goes to a bar in the middle of the afternoon? Who gets falling-down-drunk alone?" Wilson asked her, "His bitter and obsessive need to self-destruct has finally claimed a victim and it wasn't him. Amber went out to help him, as she knew I would have done, and that need to help House, the fact that House had gotten so drunk he needed help, is what got her killed."

Cuddy tried to speak, to reason with Wilson, but he cut her off. "It might not be entirely rational," he admitted, "but I simply can't look at him right now. I know that House was just being House, but his compulsion to be miserable and destroy himself ended up destroying Amber, and..."he paused, swallowing hard, "maybe me as well."

Taking one final look at House's unconscious form, Wilson turned and left the room.

Wilson's departure had left Cuddy with a sick feeling in her stomach. The man was in so much pain and he had a right to his feelings. For years he'd stuck by House, cleaning up his messes, trying to support him and often getting only grief. Now it seemed as if House had finally managed to push even the good-natured Wilson beyond his limits. Cuddy knew that House needed Wilson's friendship, although he'd never admit it, and she despaired of how much worse House's bleak existence would be without Wilson's presence.

Cuddy shook her head as she looked at the unconscious House and thought of all he had done to drive people from his life. He was a brilliant and accomplished doctor; he should have a room full of concerned and caring visitors. Instead, he had only the nurses who came in to check his vitals and her, and even she often had trouble being around him.

As Cuddy turned back to her paperwork, she caught sight of a reflection in one of the blank monitors by House's bed. Standing outside House's room was Dr. Cameron, looking in through the doorway, her one hand pressed against the glass. Cuddy was instantly struck by the look of resignation and despair on the young woman's face, evident even in the dull reflection. Turning to speak to Cameron, Cuddy accidentally pushed her papers onto the floor. As she bent down to retrieve them, she glanced at the door and saw an empty space where the doctor had been standing. Cuddy moved towards the door, looking for Cameron, but she was gone. The only evidence that Cuddy hadn't imagined Cameron's presence was the marks her fingertips had left on the glass.

Notes: More to come.