Don't own House. I also have no idea if Americans, or whoever reads this in other countries has that song Jeremiah was a bullfrog. You might not I wouldn't have a clue. But we all used to sing it in primary school in New Zealand.. So sorry if it doesn't make sense. Thanks, anyone.
House was confused, and surprised to find himself bitter. Was he jealous? Had just the thought of Cameron having a boyfriend made him feel like this? He wasn't sure, and he certainly hoped not. He didn't fully understand the situation and Cameron didn't seem to be in the position to explain anything further. She had slid off the couch to the floor and was sobbing shamelessly. House had no idea how to comfort her and for the first time he felt too uncomfortable to make a sarcastic problem. He'd already been enough of a bastard.
Touching her shoulder he got up from the couch and walked to the door with the photograph, handy interrogation property. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Come on. I'll drop you home on the way to the hospital. You can have the rest of the day off." He walked to the front door and turned around. Cameron hadn't moved. Seeing her sitting there, back resting on the couch, arms holding her knees to her face, made him feel like wrapping his arms around her and stopping her crying for some reason. He wanted to do something to make it stop, kick his foot into the wall so he didn't have to think, so he could just say something sarcastic and not be thinking about her feelings.
"Hurry up Cameron" He said roughly. "We've got to get going. I've got to save this guys life."
She seemed to deflate as he said this and fatigue washed over her. Her sobbing subsided and she breathed deeply into her knees. What had she been thinking? House didn't care, he just cared that he had all the more reason to mock her. It wasn't the end of the world but she would almost rather it was.
They got in the car silently. Cameron wasn't sure if she had the energy to say anything in any case. She just wanted to sleep. And never see House again, she thought to herself.
House pulled up at her apartment and turned to find Cameron asleep, head resting on the side of the window. Her mouth was open slightly, eyes flickering. She looked sad and for a moment House contemplated carrying her up, not wanting to wake her. But something stopped him, and he banged on the car horn. Cameron sat up quickly and glared at House who didn't look at her.
"Thanks" She grumbled. "Uh, see you tomorrow then."
"You sure you're up for it?" House asked, not unkindly.
"I'll be fine." She got out of the car and closed the door carefully. House watched her walk to her apartment and disappear inside. He couldn't figure her out. What did she mean? Did she love this guy? It obviously wasn't her husband…well, it couldn't be. Nothing made sense. And worse he couldn't figure out why he cared so much.
She sat in the dark cross-legged on her bed, holding her feet in her hands and staring into the black. She could feel the cold air in her chest, sharp pain every time she drew a breath. The initial shock was gone, and at 4 o'clock in the morning Cameron was finally able to think about it properly without crying. She still wasn't sure what to think though, whether she should be happy or not. She was both, and every thing else as well. She just wanted to write a list so she could somehow comprehend what this meant. Jeremiah wasn't dead. But it wasn't that simple. She had sorted her life out now, left him behind, refused to think about him. Her life was fine; she got by, earned money, saved patients…and loved House.
She had lost two men she had loved in her life and she had come to terms with both deaths. Now she needed to sort out this mess, find out her priorities, and where to go next, if anywhere.
She moved to the end of the bed, stumbled off, walked to the living, opened her laptop and began to write.
The next morning House watched Cameron approaching his office wearing jeans and a red woollen jumper, her hair pulled up into a high, messy ponytail. It was nothing like her usual sensible, smart attire. He noticed she looked tired, but composed and surprisingly confident and at ease, nothing like the day before. House was glad. Maybe now he could find out what the hell was going on.
Cameron entered Houses office to loud rock music, and looked questioningly over at House where he was reclined in his chair, feet on the desk.
"Can I talk to you?" Cameron asked loudly, almost yelling.
"I assume so," House yelled back.
"Can you turn off the Eagles then?"
"Can't hear you!" House shouted, hoping she could take a joke today. Cameron strolled over to the record player and took it off, shooting House an annoyed but amused glare. House grinned.
"You've got some explaining to do" House said smugly, having had tested the waters. Cameron bit her lip nervously, unsure how things were going to unfold.
"Do you want the full story?"
"Duh…I don't want to miss out on the sex and action"
"Uh…well…Jeremiah…" Cameron began, struggling already.
"…Was a bullfrog?" Suggested House, finishing her sentence. "Yeah I know."
"House…just let me do this okay?"
House nodded and flapped his hand at her impatiently.
"Get going then."