Title: Dressing Room
Author: MissMouseMD
Rating: T, for safety
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: I am on a fanfic-writing roll. This came to me and I had to write it. Enjoy.
When she was a very little girl, she wore pink. She wore pink dresses with ruffles and bows and matching hair accessories. When she went to church on Sunday, the only things that weren't pink were her shiny black shoes. She remembers going to church. It was always just her and Andrew and her mother. When she asked where Daddy was, her mother slapped her so hard she tasted blood.
She never asked again.
When she was a pre-teen, she wore yellow. She ignored her mother's warnings that it washed her out and made her sickly. Her mother was right, of course. She looked terrible in yellow. But in her stubborn adolescent way, she refused to listen to reason. So she wore yellow constantly and as a result spent much of her pre-teen years being sent to the nurse's office, because "didn't look well".
Maybe that's why she became a doctor.
When she was a teenager, she wore blue, and green. They brought out her eyes and made her look beautiful. And during those turbulent years, looking good meant everything. Because if you were pretty, people liked you. It was as simple as that.
And Allison Cameron has always wanted people to like her.
In her college years, she wore red. She looked good in red, too. It was fitting that she should look good. She was in love, she was getting married, and everything was perfect. Except for the part about her fiancé being halfway to the grave. If she could forget about that part, everything was great.
Except she couldn't forget anymore when he died.
When she first started working for House, she wore every color. She wore blue, and green, and pink. She wore red, leftover from when she was happy and carefree and soon to be married. She didn't wear yellow, because she knew that yellow made her look sick. When you work in a hospital, you don't look sick.
It worries the patients.
Now, she wears dark colors. Colors labeled "Charcoal", and "Lead", and "Midnight". She wears dull colored pantsuits that make her look twice her age. Because she doesn't care anymore. She isn't spiteful, and she isn't in love, and she doesn't care if she looks pretty. So she wears colors that do nothing for her appearance. They don't make her look particularly attractive, nor do they take away from her looks. They simply exist.
Because quite frankly, she no longer gives a damn.
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