Title: Succumb (7?)
Author: Teenwitch
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

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"I'm telling you, the symptoms match. Weight loss, fatigue, muscle aches. It makes sense."

"And the things that make sense rarely ever fit," House replied calmly. "Differential diagnosis, people. Come on, what else have we got?"

Foreman exchanged a glance with Chase, swiftly rattling off the patient's other test results. Cameron was only half-concentrating. She had brought Brooklyn in that morning, as an act of defiance or genuine need, she wasn't sure. Apparently the hospital day-care centre had limited staff, and only ran three times a week. It was a convenient justification.

The little girl alternated between wandering and crawling around the briefing room, tugging at her mother's pants and studying the four other males in the room. She generally wasn't an attention-seeking child, but it was clear the atmosphere was making her a little adventurous.

It had been almost comical when Cameron first arrived, to see her old and new colleagues' differing reactions. Chase and Foreman were both more than happy to see her. She wasn't sure if it was because she was a welcome reprieve from Hudson, or because they genuinely missed her, but either way, it was nice to be wanted.

Their reactions to Brooklyn, on the other hand, varied considerably. Hudson was shocked, while Chase appeared slightly awkward, a by-product of his own less-than-nurturing childhood, she was sure. Foreman, unsurprisingly, was the complete opposite, perfectly comfortable to give Brooklyn a few minutes of attention. And House… House was quiet and withdrawn, and had evidently decided his way of handling the situation was to ignore her all together, shifting any verbal blame onto Dr. Cuddy, because Cuddy was a universal target for all of his problems.

Cameron wasn't quite sure if his response was because of their prior argument, or because he still wasn't quite used to the idea of her daughter. Either way, he carefully avoided her gaze as they started their initial diagnosis, and if the others noticed, they didn't comment on it.

It was strange. He had been so receptive, even cheerful, the day he took her to lunch. Now he had returned to his standard sullenness, and their awkward tension disrupted the air between them.

Cameron didn't harbour illusions that the situation brought up feelings of nostalgia for him. She felt self-conscious and out of place, and sat in her old chair at the far end of the briefing table, only contributing necessary information. She attempted to put across an air of detachment, but suspected she was failing miserably. The only thing distracting her from becoming completely caught up in her feelings of isolation was Brooklyn—a representation of everything she had achieved since leaving Princeton; the epitome of her personal growth. She no longer needed Gregory House's approval or affection for validation. She was doing just fine without it.

Foreman tapped the marker on the board, and started writing down the symptoms as Chase listed them aloud. House sat at the briefing table, apparently content to pass the power torch onto someone else for a change, tapping his cane faintly against the floor. It was one of his recognisable thought processes.

The other men continued talking, occasionally launching into conflict over the patient's declining condition. Brooklyn seemed oblivious, obviously sensing the harmlessness in their tension. She started to wander.

Over to House.

She stopped directly in front of him, tilting her head up at him timidly. She had little experience dealing with other adults, but her shyness made her a sensitive child and she seemed to have picked up on the unresolved tension swirling between him and her mother. She lifted out her tiny hand, gingerly prodding his cane.

Cameron froze. The others were too heated in their conversation to notice, but she shifted uneasily, wondering how House was going to react to the toddler's attention. She would have gently taken her hand and led her back to her side, but she resisted drawing attention to the scene— and she was admittedly curious to see what would happen.

House glanced down at Brooklyn, apparently unaware of Cameron's scrutiny. She glimpsed a slight, subtle softening in his features.

He gazed back up at Foreman and Chase, casually reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his much-loved Gameboy. He held it out to the girl; keeping one hand fixed around it as she began to tap at the buttons, face alight with innocent delight. Cameron thought she had forgotten how to breathe.

"Right, Cameron?"

She blinked at Chase, who was staring at her expectantly, straightening abruptly in her chair. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The patient had a high white blood count and a high platelet count, didn't she?"

She quickly recovered. "Yes. She also had a chronic infection, which was what we assumed she was still suffering from."

"Right, well that supports my theory that it's vasculitis. I say we start her on Medrol right away."

House finally lifted his head, still holding the Gameboy in front of Brooklyn. "Start her on the Medrol," he agreed, with a surprising lack of opposition. "And add 50 milligrams of Cytoxan."

Hudson cleared his throat from his place in the corner, and she wondered if he was always so inactive in their meetings. "That's a little excessive, isn't it?"

"It'll prove Chase's theory. If he's wrong, she'll get worse, he gets a slap on the wrist and we'll start her on something else."

Hudson looked unsatisfied with this logic, and Cameron watched him cautiously. Judging by the other's descriptions, he had never openly opposed House and she wondered if that was about to change. However after a moment he shrugged, starting for the door. "Fine."

House nodded, as if he hardly expected anything else. Chase glanced back at them dubiously before following the other doctor.

House glanced up at Foreman when he didn't move from his position by the whiteboard. He frowned, eyeing House and Brooklyn strangely before speaking up. "I'll uh, redraw her blood work. See if anything has developed in the last twelve hours."

House appeared satisfied with this decision. "Good doggy."

Foreman continued to frown, pausing again before slowly shaking his head. He turned and disappeared through the glass door.

House re-pocketed his Gameboy, gesturing Brooklyn vaguely at Cameron. "Go back to mommy. She's looking at me strangely."

Cameron blinked, realising that she had indeed been staring at him. She rose to her feet, clearing her papers quickly from the table. "Sorry. I just… Forget it."

House reverted to his former gruffness, as if he knew full well what she was thinking. He gripped his cane, also straightening to his feet. "Most mothers give me that reaction."

He strode into his office, and something spurned her to follow him.

"I'm sorry if it bothers you that I brought her in here. I didn't have anywhere else to leave her."

House was facing the window, and he shook a hand impatiently, turning around to regard her. "It's fine."

Cameron eyed him skeptically. "It doesn't seem like it's fine."

House remained impassive. "Well, if you were so geared up for a tantrum, I would have alerted Chase."

Cameron folded her arms impatiently, stubbornly rooted to the spot. "It would be nice to see some sort of a reaction."

House squinted at her, his stark blue eyes conveying a certain level of weariness. "Please tell me this conversation isn't going where I think it is."

Cameron didn't know why she was pursuing it. The fact that he had allowed her daughter into the room without hurling some sarcastic insult at her should have been more than enough. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't done so that gave her pause. "You haven't said anything about it since I got here. You haven't passed judgement on me or insulted me—"

House rolled his eyes. "I always knew the girls liked it when you pulled their hair in the playground."

She frowned impatiently. "I just…" She gave a short, humourless laugh at her own behaviour. She was expecting him to mock her. They really were back where they started. "I guess I was just expecting something."

House stared back at her, his crystalline blue eyes penetrating her so deeply she felt utterly raw and exposed. He didn't say anything, and she met his gaze, unable to do anything to break away from it. That familiar magnetic pull was present, erupting in a vortex of emotions that would remain unvoiced, bundled in their unresolved confusion.

A crash in the next room brought her sharply back to reality. Her eyes widened immediately and the spell between them was broken. "Brooklyn!"

She raced into the next room, her protective instincts immediately kicking in when she spotted Brooklyn sitting on the floor, pitiful childish sobs escaping her mouth. A crushed flowerpot has scattered fragments of clay and dirt over the floor beside her.

Cameron fell to a crouch in front of her, scanning her swiftly for signs of injury. She had thought being a doctor would make her feel more capable when raising her own child, but it only increased her feelings of constant anxiety. Unlike most people, she was aware of every possible condition that could affect her, and it made her overly paranoid as a result.

She brushed back Brooklyn's soft brown hair, making sure the pot hadn't connected. She doubted it had, but fragments might have deflected from the floor and cut her.

"She looks all right, Cameron."

She jumped when she realised House was just behind her. She had almost forgotten he was there. She barely drew her gaze away from Brooklyn, worry subsiding as the young girl's tears began to fade into hiccups. House's voice was surprisingly gentle, and she could acknowledge that he appeared to be right. She hugged Brooklyn to her for a moment, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she began to calm. "Shh. It's okay, you're okay."

She noticed a superficial cut marring her delicate ankle, and frowned as she pulled away. "She has a… cut," Cameron managed, voice oddly shaky.

House nodded calmly behind her, fixing his cane by her side. "We'll fix it. Come on."

He offered her a hand, and she glanced back at him uncertainly before allowing him to help her to her feet. She lifted Brooklyn into her arms, and House began to riffle in the cabinets, swiftly producing a first aid kit. She reflected on the irony of having a first aid kit in a hospital before placing Brooklyn on the counter, unconsciously running a hand over her hair.

House rubbed some cleaning alcohol over the small cut, shaking his head slightly. "Biggest racket I've heard from the kid yet."

Cameron smiled weakly, leaning against the counter. Wet tears marred her cheeks but other than that, Brooklyn appeared to have forgotten the previous drama, squirming under House's ministrations.

He gently placed a band-aid on her ankle, stepping back. "Too bad we don't have any nifty cartoon ones. I always thought they were cooler, personally."

She swallowed, allowing her gaze to wander over him as he finished his work. "Thank you."

He met her stare, shrugging offhandedly. It was a routine doctor's response, yet she knew her irrationality would have prevented her from acting as calmly. "Sure."

Cameron realised that in the course of the entire incident House hadn't make one single spiteful remark about her over-emotional response. She quietly decided that of all the sentiments she had wanted from him, that was more than enough.

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