AN: Hello again, and sorry this has taken so long. It's a lot of work putting these chapters out and keeping up with school and everything's always so hectic in my life that writing time is minimal to none. Please let me know if you're still reading this; reviews have been dwindling and I don't want to be working on this for nothing. Anyway, read and enjoy!


Chapter 4: Reflect

Back and forth that voice of yours keeps me up at night.
Help me search to find the words that eat you up inside.
I go side to side like the wildest tides in your hurricane
and I only hide what is on my mind because I can't explain.

Sometimes he wonders if he's even changed at all.

Chase knows that there's something new about House, and the world has shifted a bit, and Cameron's at least tried to alter who she is, but he's not sure if anything inside of him is really different at all.

He's positive that he's grown from when he first started working for House, and he's sure he's grown since he was fired, too. But sudden bursts of doubt overcome Chase and bring out the quiet, cowardly fifteen-year-old in him, shattered by too many concerns harshly real and forever alive.

Sometimes he still feels the same.

Sometimes Chase remembers how far he's come too, but then there's another setback that crushes him in all the same places, cracked once again.

-

The sun's beginning to fall from the sky as Chase and Cameron lay on his couch, a cross between laziness and exhaustion filling their lungs with each breath they take.

"I bet," Cameron begins, splintering the warmth of the silence they often find themselves in, "House will fire Cole next. Just to spite me."

He wants to say she's being vain and House really doesn't care; instead he's silent. Chase is all the more aware of how trying to change is so different from actually doing it, and if she even notices her old self breaking through the surface. "Oh," he says finally, softly, somewhere in the middle of a question and a nuisance.

The silence collapses in on them for another moment, a descending chill that echoes his thoughts that aren't meant to be said.

"You know," she tries again, no intention of letting this subject die. "I think we could make some money off of this. Start a betting pool or something."

He wants to tell her that forgetting House is what's best, especially for him, but instead Chase laughs a little and entertains the idea for a bit.

"And what? Collect money in the middle of the hospital while everyone else is working?"

Cameron shrugs. "With House, anything goes."

He almost refuses, because he'll take any chance he can to sprint away from the past, but he's being manipulated again, hiding away in his teenage self, and all he can do is nod and hold her a little bit tighter, a shield from the past that's closer than he thought.

-

There's a bitter frost enveloping Princeton, and goose bumps prick Cameron's pale, delicate skin as she steps out of the car. Chase comes and meets her at her side, gently and silently grasping her arm until she can feel goose bumps on her heart, too.

He's been quiet a lot lately, and Cameron wonders if she's breaking him yet again.

"Cameron? Chase?" she hears from behind, a voice that's all too familiar and all too out of place.

"Foreman?" She half-turns uncertainly and distantly feels Chase's arm fall back to his own side. "What are you doing here?"Cameron thinks about hugging him as he walks closer, but he is the man who plainly refused her friendship time and time again. Instead she finds Chase's hand with her own and knits their fingers together, holding him tightly, forever.

"Cuddy asked me to come back," he replies smugly. "I have to watch House for her."

"And you agreed to that?" asks Chase, finally finding his voice, and Cameron wonders if he blames Foreman in any way for being fired and losing it all.

Foreman seems torn for a moment, unsure how to reply without draining his pride until there's none left. Finally, he has no choice but to give into defeat. "I had to. Couldn't find work anywhere else."

Cameron nods sympathetically, wondering if she'll ever break the cycle that everyone identifies her by.

Chase shifts slightly, cold and awkward and still wanting to run away, faster.

They turn and walk with Foreman next to them, and he finally notices what's been there all along. His mouth curls into a smile as his eyes shift to their hands. "So, you two finally…got together?"

Cameron looks over; there's a strange shimmer in Chase's eye. "Yeah," he says freely. "She just wouldn't leave me alone until I said yes."

She smiles but it wilts quickly as they reach the ER. They must be a strange sight, she thinks, the three of them together again, except this time House isn't leading the way. They're moving down different paths now, and Cameron can't help but feel lost without the formula of diagnostics getting her through the day.

Chase and Foreman turn to leave, and even though they were never friends before, she has a distinct feeling that the wind is changing directions again, and maybe it's fate's way of telling them to never forget.

-

Chase finishes his first betting shift that was eons more successful than he'd ever expected, and it dawns on him that maybe Cameron's obsession isn't really obsession, that maybe she's just searching for clarity in the fog surrounding them, while all he's trying to do is get out.

A crooked silhouette approaches from his side, but Chase doesn't need to look to know who it is.

"Dr. Chase," House shouts over a few startled people. "Consult. Now."

There's a spark of lie reflected in his eyes, though, and while he knows he shouldn't, he know it's wrong, he knows he can't, Chase still follows, falling back into his old role much too easily.

House hunches over his desk, a smile in his eyes that doesn't quite reach his lips. "I'd like to place a bet."

"What?" says Chase quickly and a little loudly. "But you can't…you-"

"I know," House cuts in. "That's why we're in my office, idiot. And there may just be something in it for you."

There's an uncertain flash- the young, weak coward- but Chase pushes it away and stands a little taller, refusing to give in to the past, not again. "So you tell me who you're going to fire, I make the bet-"

"And we split the cash."

An uneasy glance passes between them, because even if fate hasn't intended for them to work together anymore, there's no denying they're a perfectly functioning team.

"It's pretty fair. Definitely worth half your winnings. And I can assure you that no one will see this coming."

"Why?" Chase says sharply, trying to hide his eagerness by staring steadily at the wall.

"Because I'm not going to fire anyone." House's arm extends, hand aged and callused. "Deal?"

Chase finally draws his eyes back to the here and now, gazing blankly at the outstretched palm.

"Deal," he says finally, clasping their hands together, briefly and uncomfortably. Chase turns and leaves without a final glance, seeing clearly through the still, glassy water that he's his own worst enemy.

-

"What the hell, I'm at even odds?"

Foreman's voice cuts through the air, dangerously sharp, loud and accusing as Chase enters the surgical lounge; it's almost like nothing's really changed, and nothing will.

"You really shouldn't be looking at that, you know," Chase says feebly while sinking into the nearest chair, too tired to put up a fight over the dark book that Foreman's so drawn into.

"You gonna tell on me? House can't fire me, you know that, so whoever bets-"

"Hey, I'm just responding to market forces. Their loss." He rests his arm over his eyes that are still stinging from the bright, metallic OR that's been less than kind to him today. What are you even doing here? Don't you have work to do?" Chase suddenly realizes they no longer share the same domain, his mind murky with exhaustion and confusion and the whirl of the rest of the world outside of these walls.

Foreman wants to say something, Chase can tell, but bites it back as he rises to leave, tossing the book onto the table. Because even if they were a team, they aren't anymore, and they've never been friends and never will be, and there's nothing left from before except the knowledge that they've gained and the ever-present sense of loss.

The door shuts heavily, and Chase finally comes to realize that what's been churning in the pit of his stomach since this morning is jealousy, plain and loud, because Foreman gets a second chance when Chase's never seem to come.

-

Cameron sees him approaching from the distance, hovering in the background, waiting to be found, but she doesn't feel like searching anymore; she's tired of playing games that aren't even hers.

"Your boyfriend has me at even odds."

Foreman's trying to be direct now, but some of his dignity was lost behind him; for once she feels like she has the upper hand.

"So…talk to him." She vaguely realizes that he used boyfriend- boyfriend like roses and hearts and candy- but she's never thought of Chase as that. He's much deeper, scarred. He fills her emptiness with his own, an eternal spiral of sorrow upon sorrow until it all cancels out and fills with a swirl of something less concrete than flowers or chocolate, but more meaningful, more sincere, more.

"I did," says Foreman, bringing her out of her reverie. "He said he's just responding to market forces."

"He is. I got a hundred on you," Cameron kids, but then his back is turning and she's not quite done yet. "What do you care what other people are betting on?"

"If he's trying to screw with me because he's jealous Cuddy didn't ask him to take the job-"

"Right," she interrupts bitterly. "You're figuring he's jealous of your misery." A step into the real world doesn't seem to have changed Foreman much, and he'll never understand that even if Chase is jealous he can't go back anyway; he's outgrown that way of life and is soaring on his own, just like Foreman never will.

"He's messed up enough to-"

"The problem is you're not miserable," Cameron interjects a second time, prying Foreman's eyes open to how lucky he is to still fit in.

"Then House has been wasting his time," he says more to himself than her, and Cameron doubts that anything she says ever sinks in at all.

"You've been humiliated, treated like crap. You've every right to be miserable. But you're not because even though this job is insane and House is insane, you like it. You always have." He needs to understand, to see that of course they're jealous and he would be too, to realize that now their worlds are forever crooked and gray, and Foreman still has the past with him now.

"You know what's worse than a sanctimonious speech? A sanctimonious speech that's dead wrong."

"See? You belong with House." Cameron smirks inconsolably before leaving, because wanting to belong is incredibly unlike from actual belonging.

-

She finds herself spending her break in the locker room, staring at her tired self in the mirror, unable to look away yet ashamed just the same. The reflection's fading quickly, and she doesn't have much time left before she's gone for good too.

Cameron's appearance erases just like her reputation; she's hardly there anymore. House has a new team, and all she's become is a washed-up rejection, her fellowship, her fifteen minutes of fame, dead.

Now she sifts her fingers through her thin blonde hair and suddenly she can't stand it. She wanted change, needed it, so she made it for herself, drawing her own starting line already beyond the finish. Cameron wonders (irrationally, she knows) if turning her hair back will turn back time. And if she'd leave all over again.

But she's sick of endings, she always has been, and she's getting sick of beginnings too. Cameron never lets go and she can never get a good grip either; she prefers the struggle in the middle, where her hand is slipping but she's still holding on.

She stands and looks closer now, almost nose to nose with herself, but all she sees is the outside. Maybe she really is that shallow, just the pretty girl that everyone's always seen, or maybe she's just built walls too think for even herself to see through.

Cameron can't remember what she's hiding anymore.

-

"House solved his case." Chase pauses. "It's firing time."

Cameron looks up slowly, her insides trembling though she doesn't know why. She sighs, forcing a smile. "Who'd you end up betting on?"

It's not an easy answer; even though he's not lying he's still not telling the truth, still keeping something from her, another addition to the list that's already longer than infinity. "No one."

"You didn't bet?"

"No," says Chase quietly. "I don't think he'll fire anyone."

Cameron stops walking abruptly, another moment passing where she feels she hardly knows him. "What? Why?"

He forces a smirk, feigning a laid-back front that's disguising the storm within. "He doesn't want his games to end. And they're all valuable additions at this point. It's too soon for him to get rid of one of them."

She gives him a hard stare, then starts walking again, silent. Chase doesn't know if she really believes him or if she's trying to trust him, but either way he's grateful she's not questioning this.

The lecture hall is tense when they enter, charged with nerves and pride and fear. Then House is talking and so is his team, and everyone else is still, clinging to his every word, and Cameron's slipping again, faster than before, and she can't hold on any longer.

"We're all fired?" Amber asks boldly, and a bolt of doubt streaks through Chase's mind that House could be playing games with him still, that maybe he's been lying all along just to see how far he'll go until he breaks.

"None of you are fired."

Breaths of relief, sighs of defeat, and Cameron's grim expression blur by as he fakes surprise then searches to meet House's eyes, blue into blue, yet two different shades.

Chase's smile fades as he nods curtly, understanding. Now they're almost equals, and whether intentional or not, House is the one who moved Chase up closer to him, and maybe it's what was meant after all.

-

"How did you know, really?" Cameron finally asks as they pull into his driveway, unable to hide her curiosity, jealously.

"I told you already," says Chase impatiently while stepping out of the car. "I watched them more closely than I usually do," he lies, a bit too easily. "There was no way House could decide."

She follows him into the apartment closely, still suspicious but out of ways to show it.

"Hungry?" Chase asks, eager to drop the subject while he has a chance. "We could order a pizza."

For a minute she's about to protest, but then she gives in again, sinking onto the floor as Chase leaves to make the call.

Cameron flips on the TV as he returns from the kitchen, starting to unbutton his shirt as he slides down next to her. "Sick of the couch?"

"No. I don't know." Cameron looks beaten down, and he realizes that she needs him now, she needs him more, and he's been planning without even letting himself know.

"Cameron," says Chase, bringing his fingertips up to the smooth skin along her neck, feeling her throat quiver as she speaks.

"Hmm?" Slowly she turns her head and faces him, the space between their lips only whispers apart.

"Move in with me."

She's almost shocked, almost pulls back, but instead she simply blinks then stares. She's not sure if he's opening up or pretending to, but either way it's a step forward from where they were, a step away from the past.

And while it goes against everything he believed in, so does everything with Cameron. His religion died when he left the seminary; god died with his father. Now he just pretends, but maybe he won't need to anymore.

"Yes," she breathes, then kisses him softly. "Of course I will." She's there almost every night anyway, and the nights at her own place are always so cold and empty. There's a distinct feeling of belonging here, and if she may never find it with House again, she can still belong somewhere else.

Cameron's lips part in a small smile and Chase presses himself down and onto her gently, tangled on the thin carpet as the news starts, the doorbell rings, and the first flecks of snow collide with the window pane.


AN: I don't know how far I'm going to go with this, but any feedback would be wonderful!