An Agreement Between Friends:
Dysfunction
…
Unnecessary disclaimer: None of the characters, dialogue or storylines appearing in the TV show "House, M. D." belong to me.
Abstract: "What I'm offering you here is free sex. No strings attached. Are you telling me you're going to turn that down?" House/Cameron
…
Time passed uneventfully. House and Cameron went on as they were, but turmoil bubbled under the surface. House had tried to push down the feelings that emerged from his conversation with Heather, but he couldn't keep them at bay all the time. Some nights he felt a cold wave of fear wash over him. He wasn't ready to be a dad, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be. He enjoyed being with Cameron. They had amazing sex, even with the advancing pregnancy, and got along better than he had ever anticipated. But there were things he missed from his old life too. He didn't really know what he wanted.
Cameron was in almost as much turmoil as House was. Protecting her child was her top priority now, and the fact that House hadn't really committed to anything was troubling. Sure he was around now, but he hadn't said a word about what would happen after their son was born. She didn't want to push him—she knew he didn't react well to that kind of pressure—but she needed to know and he needed to make up his mind. As her due date seemed to loom closer, she knew she couldn't wait much longer.
…
Cameron had been trying to gather the courage to finally talk to House as her thoughts became more preoccupied with this question that hung in the air between them, a silent barrier.
House had noticed Cameron being more quiet than usual, and he tried to ride it out, thinking that she'd get over whatever was bothering her. But when it only got worse, House finally just bit the bullet. "Okay Cameron, spit it out."
The question had come out of nowhere—they had been sitting on the couch watching one of House's shows when the outburst had come. Cameron gave him a puzzled look as she answered. "Spit what out?"
"Whatever's been eating at you all day." He motioned for her to come closer to him, but she didn't move, staying at the far end of the couch.
She wrung her hands. "You and I need to talk about what's going to happen."
House gave her an odd look. "What's going to happen?"
"After the kid is born," she clarified. "Are you going to come live here with us or just visit like you do now, do you want some kind of custody once he's old enough…?" Cameron trailed off, looking worried and uncomfortable.
When House was silent, she spoke up again. "I don't really know what's going on here," she motioned between them, "with us. And that makes things even more confusing." Her brow furrowed, she looked to him for some kind of answer.
"I was thinking we'd play it by ear," House said casually.
Cameron shook her head. "I don't think I can do that. I need to know, for his sake. I need you to commit to something." Her eyes were pleading.
House couldn't stand to see that look in her eyes, but he couldn't give her what she wanted either. As she spoke, he could see his future laid out in front of him—stupid white picket fence and all. He didn't want all of that, and he didn't want it decided for him. He felt like he was suffocating.
He stared back into those beautiful, sad eyes of hers and knew what he had to do.
"I don't think I can do that," he said, quiet but firm, repeating her earlier words. He didn't want to hurt her, but it would only be worse if things went on longer.
Cameron's eyes filled with tears, but all she did was nod. "I understand."
She pushed herself up off the couch and handed him his keys from the table by the door. Before closing the door behind him, she gave him one last lingering look. "Goodbye, House."
When the door latched shut, she fell back on it, finally letting her tears fall.
…
As the days passed, House kept an eye on Cameron from afar. It's better this way, he told himself.
He was sure he was doing the right thing. Better to hurt her feelings now than break her heart somewhere down the line and worse, hurt the kid. He couldn't deny that he cared about them both, but the idea of that domesticated life felt like a straightjacket to him.
Every day he watched her come in to work to satisfy himself that she looked fine. There were a couple of days where she showed up with red eyes, but he couldn't help that. It was better this way, he always reminded himself.
Of course, Wilson wasn't talking to him either now, claiming he'd broken first Cuddy's heart and now Cameron's. House tried to explain that he had no idea what was going on with Cuddy and that he was only trying to help Cameron, but Wilson wouldn't listen. Silent treatment seemed to be his standard punishment these days, and Wilson was using it in full force.
House threw himself into his work more than ever, staying long hours at the hospital. But he couldn't avoid going home forever. Every night House would go home to his apartment, playing piano and drinking scotch to distract himself from how empty it seemed.
…
Things were uneventful for some time, until a day came that Cameron didn't show up for work.
House burst into Wilson's office, ignoring the glare his friend shot him at his intrusion.
"Where's Cameron?" he asked, stopping in front of Wilson's desk.
Wilson looked at him steadily, eyes accusing as always. "She went into labor last night, you idiot."
House stared. "She wasn't due for three weeks."
Wilson shrugged, his voice angry. "Early or not, I believe your son is up in the nursery."
In an instant, House had turned on his heel, heading straight for the maternity ward.
…
Wilson came up beside him as he stared into the nursery.
"I thought he'd have Cameron's eyes," House said, not knowing quite why he spoke up. He felt strange, empty almost. He promised himself that he would stay away from this child for everyone's sake, and yet he couldn't stop himself from being here, face to face with everything he'd given up.
Wilson sighed. "Yeah. It's a pity he looks like the father who abandoned him." With an accusing look, Wilson turned and walked away, leaving House alone with his thoughts.
His hand reached up, almost subconsciously touching the glass as the child looked in his direction. He knew the boy couldn't see him—newborn eyes weren't developed enough. But he couldn't stop his hand, just as he hadn't been able to stop his heart from skipping a beat when the boy had opened his eyes to reveal the blue ones that already looked so similar to his own.
"Do you want to hold your son?"
House turned around to find the source of the voice. Heather Cameron stood behind him. "His name is Nathan." She paused. "You can if you want to." Her eyes bored into him, challenging him again to make his choice.
He shook his head. With one last look into the nursery, he turned and walked away. Heather's eyes followed him down the hall, her expression a cross between anger and pity.
…
