Knowing

by Wyoming

The funeral was tomorrow, how the hell was she supposed to deal with this? She would never know what it would be like to have him as hers. Never." Not what you think there's no char death. HCameron, oneshot for now.

Title: Knowing

Summary: The funeral was tomorrow, how the hell was she supposed to deal with this? She would never know what it would be like to have him as hers. Never

Rating: T

Words: 2506

Warnings: AU and a bit ooc, mention of suicide.

A/N: This one was inspired by Carrie Underwood's "Just A Dream" Luckily, I found a little bit of time to write it. Hopefully I'll have some time to read the other fic that I have, I Need You. That one should be updated Sunday…maybe, I don't know, mid terms are this week, Sunday is my study day. Well anyway, this is a very long oneshot, unless you guys give me tons of loving reviews and want me to continue 

"Oh God…"

She was never one to believe in God. She was an atheist. But here she was, in the corner of her apartment, curled up in a little ball, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed harder than she thought she would. She had tried to convince herself that she'd gotten over her older and wiser mentor, but apparently she still had quite a lot of feelings for him. Her heart felt like it had been shot a million times. The funeral was tomorrow, how the hell was she supposed to deal with this? She would never know what it would be like to have him as hers. Never.

xoxoxoxox

He had done it to get away, away from PPTH, away from Foreman, and Cuddy, and Wilson, and Chase. But Cameron, Cameron was one of the ones he didn't want to get away from. He hated her and loved her at the same time, well, not love, no, he would never love again, not after Stacey, but he liked her for some of the things she had to offer. There was this sort of attraction, and he didn't know what it was, but it constantly pulled him to her.

When the FBI gave him an out, he took it. Fake his death, work as a doctor for the wounded FBI members, cure their illnesses. Better hours, no clinic duty better pay…but no Cameron. He missed her. He missed her coffee every morning and her bright smiling face. Hell, it had only been a few days and he still missed her.

"Jeff!"

"Hey Carla, ready to hit the sack?"

"You know Jeff, you'll never give up, will you?"

They called him Jeff now. Jeff Hayden. He was no longer Greg House. To the outside world, Greg House didn't exist.

"Come on, you should go home. It's way past time for you to leave. What are you doing?"

He had been holding a picture of his old team in his hands. One that Cuddy had forced him to be in when they had their fundraiser for the hospital. The newspaper wanted a picture of the famous team at PPTH, so he had to. They'd sent each of them a copy of the picture, complete with a frame and everything. House was standing in the center, Cameron was in front of him, Foreman was to the right, and Chase was to the left. Cameron had a huge bright smile on her face, and House had his usual glare.

With a sigh, House picked himself up and grabbed his cane. He left his office and headed towards his new home. It was huge, they'd given him a house not too far off from where he was before his "death". Even though he had the perfect House, he never put anything in it. The entire second floor was completely unused. There was a couch, a big screen tv on the wall, an entertainment system, and a coffee table. That was about it. They let him take one thing from his apartment, and he chose his guitar. He had most of the pictures that he'd had at the hospital, since it was turned over to the government because of some stupid reason House didn't know of. On the entertainment center shelf, there sat a picture of Cameron, it was a big 8 by 10 picture of her that he'd stolen from Chase. She was at a park, wearing a bright red sundress. She was standing to the side, and looking up at the kites that were being flown by little kids a few feet away. She had a soft smile on her face, and it was the most beautiful picture he'd ever seen.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

It was the day of his funeral, and Allison couldn't hold in her tears any longer. She was worse than his mother. She was seated next to her, and sobbing fiercely. Mrs. House turned towards her after the procession and said to her as she hugged her, "I know, I know sweetie, I know you loved him."

It was obvious to anyone right now that she'd loved him. She also hated him. She absolutely hated him for leaving her like this, so quickly, with no warning. It was so sudden, he complained of chest pain and she hadn't even considered that he was having a heart attack. She had let him go home, but as an FBI agent was walking in to check on his wife, he had found him in the parking garage, lying on the ground, lifeless. The autopsy had come back, and they found out that it was a myocardial infarction. She was devastated. She hadn't been to work since then. She'd quit a day after finding out about his death. She couldn't go back to that hospital, not now, not ever.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

A few days after the funeral, Allison found herself at his grave. "Dr. Gregory House" the name said. It had his date of birth and death, and then near the bottom it said. "Beloved son and doctor".

It wasn't fair, she hadn't had a chance to tell him that she loved him. She knew that he'd known about her little crush on him, but he didn't know that she loved him, she wanted to have a chance. Now she'd never have it. She'd never have her fantasy of being married to him, having kids, having a chance to spend the rest of her life with him. He was gone, and he was never coming back. Now she'll never know what it would be like.

She'd been at the grave for a good four hours. She just sat there and looked at it. It was slowly starting to sink into her brain that he was gone; he was really gone and he wasn't ever coming back. She wanted it to be just a dream. "Please," she pled to God. "Please, just let it be a dream, this can't be happening to me."

A terrible feeling came over her body as she writhed with sobs. She leaned to the side and vomited whatever was in her stomach at the time. She was in bad shape, and fortunately, Wilson had known it.

"Allison," a voice said from behind her. There was a hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see House's best friend there, he'd always been House's friend, up until the day he died.

"He's not dead," Cameron said to him. "This is all just a terrible dream, and I'm going to wake up soon."

"Allison," he said again, with sympathy in his eyes and voice. "He's not coming back."

"No…" she said, sobbing as she said it.

"Yes Allison, and I know it's hard, it's hard for me too, but he's never coming home."

"No…."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

It had been over four months since House had been "dead". He found it hard to believe that he was still putting up with this. He'd done a lot of things he didn't want to do. He had boring cases, curing most FBI agents of a bad cold and every once in a while he would get a diagnosis of meningitis or MRSA. But that was about it. He missed his old job, his friends, but most of all, he missed Cameron. It had surprised him that he missed her so much. It was starting to take a toll on him, and most of his co-workers could tell. He was constantly snapping at them, knocking things over. And today, it marked the fifth month of his supposed death. He was irritable, in pain, and homesick.

"Jeff, you're late, again! What do I have to do to get you to come in on time?"

"Hire me a hooker if you want me here so damn early, why do you care anyway? I never do anything in this damn place, you don't even need me? Why does the FBI need a doctor? Do you have your own little FBI ice cream man too? Why do you need me?"

"The FBI is required to have a doctor in each state, we picked you."

"Yeah, well unpick me, I quit."

"You can't," Carla said as she put her hands on her hips. "You're dead to the world around you, you can't just leave. If you were to go back, any of the people you have daily contact with would have to sign a contract to keep quiet about what happened. It would take about three weeks."

"So do that. Please Carla, I…I have to tell a girl that I miss her."

Carla just nodded. "Come back in three weeks and I'll let you go home," she said softly.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Cameron had taken the last few months very hard. She had been depressed and she got really sick very often. But it was the fifth month, and she was especially depressed today. Five months and a few weeks she hadn't been able to count. A knock came to her door, but she was too broken to get it. She stared at the razor in front of her, but she hadn't picked it up. She couldn't. She knew that she wasn't going to do it, but the fact that she had deeply thought about it scared her. She heard a key slip into the door. Damn it, whoever it was had found the key under the vase.

"Allison?" A voice said. It took a few minutes, but he finally made it to her bathroom. "Oh Allie…" Wilson said as he took the razor from off of the counter and put it out of her view. "Come on," he said as she helped her up off of the side of the tub and took her into the living room. "Allie, what were you thinking?"

Cameron sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I did love him, Wilson. I loved him with all of my heart and I never got a chance to tell him! What's the point of living anymore? I don't have a job, he's gone, I don't do anything….the world wouldn't miss me…"

She was interrupted by yet another knock on her door. She went over to it and opened it, and saw Greg House standing there. She laughed and slammed the door in his face. "Now I'm seeing things, what the hell is wrong with me? When the hell is life going to be okay again?" she asked as she looked at Wilson.

House listened from the outside of the door and raised an eyebrow. Why had she slammed the door in his face? He heard her yelling, and then figured that she had been so upset about something that she thought he wasn't real. He didn't even see Wilson, but he knew that he must have been there.

What could she have been so upset about? He knew that she'd had a crush on her, but she couldn't possibly be taking it that hard. He opened up the door again and looked at her. She turned to him and gazed at him with big eyes. He walked into Wilson's view, and Wilson almost had a heart attack right there. "Greg? Is that really you?" Wilson asked as he walked over to him and touched him.

"Yeah Jimmy, it's me," he said, almost sadly. He looked worn and unhappy. Cameron looked even worse. She looked really skinny, she had tears pouring down her face, her eyes were red and puffy, She had crows feet and a small crease starting to form on her forehead. Her eyes looked a dull green and her hair was frail.

"Allison…"

"You're seeing things too, Wilson? What is wrong with us…"

"Allison!" House yelled, desperate for her attention. "Listen to me, even if you think it's your imagination. Look, I faked my death, okay? The FBI gave me an out, and I took it. I faked a heart attack symptom, and everyone just believed the FBI guy when he told you that I was dead. I went and worked with the FBI for a little while, but I got tired of it, so I quit. I uh…I wanted to tell you something."

Cameron looked up at him and then went over to him. She tentatively reached her hand out and touched his chest. Wonder was in her eyes as she felt him, made sure that he was real. "I'm really not just seeing things?"

Wilson decided to chime in. "No Allie, it's really him," he said with a smile.

Cameron looked up to House's face, and saw those beautiful blue eyes that she loved. She reached her palm up to his cheek and felt the stubble that lay there. House closed his eyes and then opened them to meet hers.

"Allison Cameron, I came back because I missed you."

Cameron beamed a smile and then pulled her hand away. House felt much better, he loved that smile. "I have to tell you something too."

"What is it?"

"I love you."

House was taken aback by her comment. He looked down at her and saw that she was now a bit more scared looking, like he'd taken it the wrong way. He soon restored her hope by putting on a small smile.

"I really missed you," he said softly.

Cameron smiled and then wrapped her arms around him. She was pleasantly surprised when he wrapped his arms around her too, burying his nose into her long blonde hair. "I'm sorry I left you," he whispered softly, trying to commit the smell of her strawberry shampoo into his memory. By this time, Wilson had snuck out to give them some privacy.

"You came back," Cameron said lightly. "That's all that matters. I can get better now."

"What was wrong?" House asked curiously.

She sighed, she knew that she was going to have to tell him about her depression. "I've been diagnosed with depression. I've been vomiting and crying ever since you died…or whatever. Today when Wilson found me…I'd been thinking about suicide. I just wanted to be with you, wherever you were."

House sighed and tightened his hold on her. "You don't have to worry about that anymore, I'm right here, okay?" He saw Cameron nod, and then he pulled away just a bit. He looked down to her tear filled eyes and wanted to change that. He wanted to make her happy again. He dipped his head down and gave her a light kiss on the lips, nothing like the one she'd given him one day in his office, but a light, short kiss. After that, he kissed her again, a little harder. They didn't stop until about twenty minutes after they started.

"Don't leave me again, please," Cameron said softly.

"Never again. I promise."

All of a sudden, Cameron wasn't scared about her future anymore. She could see herself in a house, with kids, and House in their bedroom, caressing her back softly. "Now I'll know," she said softly, and melted again into his embrace.

House smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Now you'll know."