A/N: Well, hi. It's been quite a few months since I've written anything House-related, and this just came from nowhere. It's set after season four (or during, the time isn't very specific), and it's a bit darker than I normally write and I don't really know what to think of it. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it, and if anyone reading this follows Of Lost Faith and Red Lights know that I'm not abandoning that! Have fun, and don't forget to review!
:)
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Looking back, Cameron thought the time she spent not working for House had always seemed strange somehow. Strange not seeing him everyday, strange not making his coffee for him, and strange in a way that always felt like some part of her was missing.
But somehow, somehow, she had always felt she would end up working with him once again. In all honesty, she didn't really have much of a reason to believe that. It was more of an instinct, or perhaps it was only ever just a hope, that everything would end up all right, and she'd find herself back with House as a boss (and something more, if she would admit it) once again.
But in her hope, Cameron had forgotten to include room for the variables that always seemed to be there wherever House was concerned, those inexplicable complications she'd never paid much mind to before. But after she quit, things happened that she'd never thought to expect.
Certainly, she hadn't expected Chase to not give up on her after a few more weeks. And when he hadn't, staying with him, staying with someone where the relationship was predictable and simple and easy, where there weren't any games that made her heart feel like it was going to explode with pain and happiness all at once, held some amount of appeal to Cameron. And so she had let herself date Chase, with only the slightest bit of regret mixed with some longing for someone other than him. It wasn't permanent, she knew, but she couldn't deny that it was nice.
She hadn't expected to like working in the ER, either, away from being paranoid that someone, somewhere, in some country or other was lying. But Cameron had found the constant influx of new cases interesting, even if House would have said it was too easy and too boring. Not having to wait for approval from two other fellows or having the hospital administrator breathing down your neck also proved to be perks.
She also hadn't expected that the new fellows would do such a good job. In fact, Cameron knew they were taking over with such ease that she felt that it would be okay to let House bother them for a change. Cameron thought that as long as House wasn't in desperate need of someone who knew how he ran things, it would be just fine to stay content for a while. After three years of being teased and tested by him, she deserved a break. Right?
But what she really hadn't expected came one cold day in December, almost a year after quitting, when she had a day off from work. It was Wilson who told her over the phone just as she was pouring a mug of hot chocolate before going to sleep. His voice had held some immeasurable grief that was etched into every word Cameron heard. He spoke softly, almost inaudibly, and told her he had just returned from the Princeton-Plainsboro emergency room. Later, after heart-wrenching sobs that stole her breath and made her throat sore, Cameron would wish she had been working that day, wished she could have been there – if not to save him, then at least to say she was sorry for having never come back. She would wish that for a long time to come.
Because of all the things Allison Cameron hadn't expected, the most unimaginable had been for him to die.