Author's Note: All right, you guys. Here's the penultimate chapter of this angsty little ditty. It's long (that's what she said) and things will start to get back to normal for our heroes. Well, a new normal and this will be the offical death of Ice Queen Cameron. The next chapter will be lighter and will have my usual House/Cameron smexiness.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
If it weren't for the tall walls with barbed wire, he would swear that he was sitting in a park or on a college campus.
It had been 8 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days since he had woken up from his suicide attempt. It had been 8 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days since he had been in Princeton. It had been 8 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days since he began his "extended sabbatical" from Diagnostics and medicine in general.
It had been 8 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days since he had seen Allison Cameron.
House was now a resident (patient) of Sunburst Mental Hospital in sunny North Carolina. He was clean and sober and much less miserable than he had been. He was still a bastard but a softer one, a tolerable one. He had gained the weight he lost back and now, his hair hung in his eyes like during his teen years, more grey than brown to match his scruff. Sunburst allowed their residents to wear normal clothes but he had taken a liking to the grey cotton pants and going barefoot. He still had his band shirts, though. Wilson sent him new ones every week, along with letters updating him on everyone back home.
He and Cuddy had gotten together (surprise…not!) and they were expecting a little girl in 3 months. He hoped that Jimmy didn't ask her to marry him. because then, they'd break up and put the poor little parasite in the middle.
Foreman had taken over the leadership of the department but he refused to take House's name off of the door or even use his desk. He was just keeping it all warm for him, he said. Although it would be a while before he'd be able to say it out loud, House really did appreciate the gesture.
Chase had moved back to the Land Down Under and was making a name for himself as a surgeon. Good. The little wombat sucked at Diagnostics, anyway…
Cameron was still at PPTH and still the Ice Bitch but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. The Immunology department was the best in North America now and her articles and cases had made her The Allison Cameron. She would cure you and even if she didn't, she would fight like hell with you until the end.
And she had stopped dating.
She hadn't visited him yet but she had sent him an acoustic guitar and a book on how to paint for Christmas, both of which occupied his mind. He still missed her though…and he still loved her.
The note hadn't been a ploy. After her dismissal, he had gone into a very dark place and the next thing he knew, he had gone through an entire bottle of pills and scotch. As a doctor, he had known that both of those thing plus inclement weather meant death. As a heartbroken and guilt ridden son of a bitch, it had been the right thing to do. If he had hurt Cameron enough to break, then he was the modern day equivalent of Nero the Roman emperor: a self absorbed, arrogant monster that needed to die sooner rather than later.
Piecing together the last of his will, he had found a pen and the nearest piece of paper wanting to let out what he had been denying so he could die in some form of peace before going to Hell. After getting the words out, he had laid down on the ground and waited for death to take him out of the cold rain.
But, he had lived. He hadn't wanted to at the time but he had and hearing her say that she couldn't believe him and didn't want to hurt but also gave him a little hope.
Cameron never said that she didn't believe him and she didn't say that she didn't love him back. She said that she hated and loved him at the same time, which still sucked but was totally understandable…
"Gregory?"
He looked up at Mabel. She was a kind black orderly and had taken a liking to him. She was his champion during the physical therapy and she snuck him extra peanut butter cookies when she had the lunch rotation.
"I brought you a visitor, hon."
When she stepped aside, House found himself looking at the woman he had just been thinking about.
Thankfully, nearly all the frost was gone from her eyes.
/
There wasn't much ice left, maybe enough to chill a mojito or to make an icepack. The glacier she had hidden behind had melted away as time went on.
The steely "get shit done" spine was there and she still had her sharpened skills as a doctor but she no longer sought to be numb and aloof from the world. Her heart was still weak but she no longer deemed it stupid. The months of being separated from him had proved it to be very insightful. It had helped her figure some important things out and act accordingly.
For one thing, House really did love her. He had gone to his apartment and in the wreckage, she had found an old cigar box. Opening it, she had found her resume, her official picture for PPTH, the draft to the article that Foreman had stolen…and the corsage she had abandoned at the restaurant. Coupled with the scrap and his actions in light of that hateful little glance she had given him…she really didn't have any choice but to believe him.
She had been the one to find Sunburst and was footing the bill for it…not that she'd ever tell him that.
For another thing, she loved him too. It wasn't a big revelation but it was enough to shatter the glacier. All of the emotions that she had brutally suppressed and ignored surged out one night after House had been gone for a month and she had been inconsolable for a week. Her breakdown had been when she went to ask Foreman for a consult and although it had been humiliating at the time, it had been a cry for help.
The others had accepted her back into the fold and slowly but surely pieced her back together, making her better than she had been before.
Her heart had made her brave enough to send the guitar and the book on how to paint. Judging from the streaks of color under his nails and the small cuts at his fingertips, he used both religiously, pleasing her.
Her heart had made it okay to laugh again, to cry and to care about more than the job.
Most of all, her heart had given her the bravery she needed to trek down here and finally visit. He looked…amazing. The sun and the detox had done wonders for him and his big blue eyes actually held something other than misery and woe. They actually looked kind of peaceful. And she just wanted to bury her fingers in his thick way hair. He had wavy hair! She loved wavy haired men…
The silence stretched on for a moment longer but as always, he broke it.
"Is that my helmet?"
Sheepishly, she took it off of her head and set in the soft grass as she sat down next to him under the tree, her hair taking flight in the breeze. She took off her loafers and stretched out her bare feet. Sitting on a motorcycle for extending periods of time really played hell on a girl's legs, especially if she's in a long purple sundress dress. Although, the appreciative glances he gave her were worth it…
"I've been taking care of your motorcycle. I rode down here on it."
"I thought you hated motorcycles."
"I never said that. You assumed that." she brought out flatly.
He winced at the tone and another cube melted. House didn't used to care about her opinion of him…
"I did that a lot. I was wrong. I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break you. Okay, yeah I did but not as badly as I ended up doing. I just wanted you to see reason. I mean, what can I give you? I'm not a drug addict anymore but I'm still miserable and I'm still a bastard and I'm still damned near twice your age…and…I'm still damaged. You deserve better than me. You deserve as close to perfection as we pathetic monkeys known as humans can get.", he admitted in a small voice, looking at her with genuine puppy eyes.
And with that, the ice melted and the Queen was banished to the far back of her mind. She'd keep her around to deal with irate patients and the Board but she was no longer needed for dealing with House…Greg.
"That may be true but I want you. I…love you. There, I said it! Take that, Wilson!" she replied triumphantly before pouting slightly.
Greg laughed ruefully and quipped, "Welcome to my adult life. The man's got a knack for sussing out people's insecurities and never letting shit go."
"And for being right. So, I hear that they're letting you go home soon."
"Mm. I'm as rehabilitated as I'm going to get, apparently...and I'm actually ready to come home. After all, if anyone's going to kick Kunta Kente out of my office, I want it to be me."
She lightly punched his arm and he grinned wolfishly as she sucked a couple knuckles into her mouth, looking at him with mock reproach.
"I see you've gotten acquainted with my biceps of steel. There's not much to do around here except for sleeping, eating, arts and crafts, and working out. Oh, and the usual freebasing of anti-depressants but mostly working out. Wait'll you get a load of the whole package."
A sex kitten smile made heat rush immediately to his groin, as did her tender kiss. It was short, sweet, and perfect to him...just like her.
"I look forward to it.", she cooed before signaling to Mabel that she wanted to leave.
He watched as she retreated until she disappeared through the courtyard door and he lay back in the grass with a stupid smile on his face as he lightly traced his swelling lips.
He couldn't wait to get back home to her.
