Title: Succumb (18?)
Pairing: House/Cameron
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.
----------------------------

Some brief directions from Cameron on the route to her new apartment, and then the silence in the car was overpowering— strained with an undercurrent of their usual, long-running tension.

House spared her a brief glance in the corner of his eye as they passed under a bright streetlight, and it cast a fleeting glow over her features. She had her attention riveted out the side window; features utterly blank. He wondered how long it had taken her to perfect this form of silent treatment. She had crafted her patience considerably, and it was her display of self-control that finally caused him to irritably break their unspoken standoff.

"You're still going to want to talk, aren't you?" he asked abruptly, switching down a gear as they neared a set of traffic lights.

Cameron finally looked at him, lifting an eyebrow impassively at his tone. "If you don't want to, I'm not going to make you," she said coolly. "It wouldn't be a very productive conversation."

He rolled his eyes. She had certainly kicked up her knack for coldness as well. "Is this reverse psychology, Cameron?" he asked derisively. "That's a pretty amateur tactic, even for you."

"I don't know. It's working, isn't it?"

God, the woman was infuriating. He shot her a dirty look, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the lights to turn green. "Is Brooklyn going to inherit this manipulative streak? I'm worried for the little boys of her future."

Cameron smirked. "Why can't you just admit it? You want to talk about this."

"Sure. Right after a Vicodin strike and twelve straight hours of Clinic Duty."

Cameron sighed deeply, voice laced with exhaustion. "Don't you ever get tired of trying this hard, House?"

He frowned at her; forced to draw his attention to the road again as the cars in front of them surged forward. "You feel guilty," he said flatly. "You need me to validate your guilt so you feel better. Fine. It was a kiss. One you started, I might add. As much as it cuts me up inside, these things have happened before, and I'm fairly sure we're no longer in the fifth grade. You are absolved."

Cameron folded her arms tightly over her chest. Apparently his response hadn't satisfied her. What a surprise. "Then why won't you talk to me anymore?" she demanded. "Why are things like this again?"

House rolled his eyes, exasperated by her prodding. "I asked you to come back. What do you want? Me to be your valentine?" He jeered humourlessly. "Oh, I know. Dinner."

Cameron clenched her jaw, reacting like he had slapped her. She turned her head, stiffness coiling through her small frame. "Screw you, House," she said quietly.

House sighed, staring darkly at the road ahead. He knew that had been out of line. Why people thought that was such an unusual occurrence, he would never know.

"Look," he said gruffly. "In case you haven't noticed, I am not good at relationships. I'm an arrogant jerk, and I'm only going to make you even more miserable than you already are."

Cameron was silent, and looked at him slowly. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe people stay around you for a reason?"

He briefly met her gaze, perplexed by the sudden clipped assurance behind her soft tone. Cameron refused to be swayed, and went on swiftly. "Wilson and Cuddy have been trying to protect your job for the last few weeks, and they have no reason to do it. You're rude. You scare patients. Your reputation isn't always enough, and you know it. You try so hard to convince the world that you're a bad person; you're starting to think it's true. But they see something in you worth saving— and so do I."

House was taken aback by the utter conviction in her voice. It reminded him of her unwavering sincerity when she told him she was leaving, and that she liked him because he did 'what was right'.

He didn't know whether she was senselessly deluded, or if she just really believed that it was true. Either way, he wasn't sure how to answer, and didn't, steering the rest of the way to her home in silence.

-------------------------------------------

House's silence stung, but it wasn't unexpected. It was his standard reaction to their more emotional confrontations. The only difference this time was that he had no way of escaping.

Cameron leant back in her seat in silence, allowing the stress to loosen from her shoulders as her apartment building came into view. House manoeuvred into a tight parking space near her nondescript SUV, and killed the engine swiftly.

The newfound stillness was almost deafening.

She glanced back at Brooklyn, sprawled on her side, tiny mouth open slightly. She was impossibly innocent and vulnerable in sleep, and Cameron was glad their argument appeared to have washed over her. She hated that her focus on House was so single-minded it made her forget everything else, including her responsibility to her daughter.

She looked at House, who was fixated intently on the brick wall in front of them.

"Look, do you… want to come up for a while?"

Why she asked it, she would never know. It just felt like their conversation was unfinished, and she was tired of leaving things so incomplete between them. If she was to move on, one way or another, she needed things to be resolved between them.

House glanced at her, and for once she saw the weariness in his startling blue eyes. He sighed deeply, and nodded slowly. It was like all of the fight had been drained out of him. "Yeah. Sure."

Between them, they managed to get Brooklyn out of the car and up to her apartment. She had been leasing it temporarily for her stay and the landlord had agreed to extend it after she discovered she was staying more permanently. It was slightly bigger than her last one, though she was still on a reasonably tight budget and it wasn't her ideal place to raise a child.

She saw House briefly scrutinize their surroundings as they strode inside, and she nodded through the living room. "I'm just going to put her to bed."

He nodded mutely, and she left him in the kitchen, reflecting on the utter absurdity her situation would have been a few short years ago.

It took her longer than she expected to get Brooklyn ready for bed when the little girl woke up, and she was forced to sit with her until she dozed off again. She took the opportunity to stall, gazing down at her daughter's soft, angelic features. Brooklyn was her world, and though her old self was eager to push House into some form of a relationship, her newer, mature self had other priorities to consider. House did not come with a guarantee. And though that might have suited her fine three years ago, it certainly didn't now.

She slipped into her room to change into a sweatshirt, before striding slowly back out into the living area.

House sat on her sofa, cane resting idly by his side. He looked oddly comfortable where he was. His presence immediately commandeered a room, no matter where he was. He frowned intently down at a picture sandwiched between his fingers on his lap. Her footsteps were soundless on the carpet, and she recognised which one it was as she neared.

"That's my brother," she said quietly, wondering what he was thinking about.

He glanced up; nodding at her slowly and placing it back on the coffee table. The image she had long since memorized came into her view; her older brother on one of his rare visits, with a wide grin on his face and a slightly younger Brooklyn nursed on his knee. "You've got the same cheekbones," House replied vaguely.

"Oh."

She sat down on the sofa beside him, leaning back against the armrest so that she was facing him and there was still some distance between them. She tucked her feet up under her. Soft toys and building blocks littered the floor around them, and the blatant childlike presence was a harsh reminder of their newfound differences.

House glanced at her, resting one arm on the side of the sofa. He looked faintly amused, easily deciphering her expression. "You were worried I thought he was her father."

She looked down at her feet, features crinkling in a frown. "You never asked about him."

It was remarkable in itself, when usually he was so intent on knowing every intricate detail about everyone. That he had not asked had not escaped her attention.

House shrugged, as if he hadn't even considered it. "Maybe I didn't want to know."

Cameron lifted her eyes, studying him thoughtfully. "I worked with him," she said, after a moment. "In Boston. We were never involved; it was more of a one-time thing. At least that's what he wanted it to be."

House frowned at her tiredly. "You really need to stop trusting people. You do know that, right?"

She let the inner concern in his tone block out his irritation. "He left before I found out about it," she continued calmly. "I never tried to find him."

"Good to know," House said darkly, scowling at something on her mantelpiece. "He doesn't exactly sound like Daddy material."

She was silent, studying a loose thread in her socks. Their mutual resolve to avoid each other's eyes was almost comical.

"Who helped you?" he asked, sounding wary.

Cameron tucked her hair behind her ears, allowing herself to finally look at him. Something in his gruff tone made her curious. He was eyeing her with an unusual amount of intensity, for once not avoiding her gaze. "No one," she answered softly. "I don't exactly have the greatest relationship with my parents, and they're in Illinios. My brother and sister are both in California. I didn't know anyone else." She shrugged. It was yet another upward struggle in her life, and it was one she had handled. "I managed just fine."

House slowly shook his head, sighing deeply. "You could have come back, you know."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "You're kidding, right?"

He scowled impatiently. "Okay, so Foreman and Chase would have helped you. You would have had a job. And Cuddy's oddly nurturing, when she wants to be."

She smiled sadly. "That argument sounds pretty hollow, even to me."

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Who really believes Cuddy can be nurturing?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully, allowing the silence to extend a little before she spoke. "You missed her, didn't you?"

House lifted an eyebrow, eyeing her sceptically. "Cuddy?"

She knew he was being intentionally dumb. She wondered if he had known Wilson and Julie were babysitting Brooklyn when he went over there. "Brooklyn."

She still found it difficult to understand his attachment to her daughter. It filled her with warmth when she realised they shared that affection. It was… nice. To see him care for someone, without feeling ashamed to show it.

He gave her a weary look, as if he sensed what she was thinking. "I haven't seen her for two days, Cameron. That does not constitute nostalgia."

She smirked, somewhat confident in her knowledge. "You know, if she was at the hospital any more, I would have ruined your image as a misanthropic bastard."

"Well, lucky you shipped her off to day-care just in time then."

She watched him carefully, crossing her legs in an unconsciously childlike manner. Again she detected a faint hint of bitterness in his tone. She licked her lips, linking her hands over her knee. "If you want… I can bring her by," she suggested softly, leaning forward slightly. "To visit, sometimes."

He shrugged nonchalantly, but she could tell the idea appealed to him more than he wanted it to. "Hey, if you want her to hang with the naughty kids, that's your prerogative. Don't blame me when you have to start cutting her allowance."

She smiled, shaking her head at his reticence. His fingers flexed out over his cane, but he made no move to stand. "I should go."

"Right."

He sighed, glancing at her for a moment, before he rose to his feet. She also stood, unconsciously blocking him from the door.

Without her heels she was considerably shorter than he was, and she glanced up at him uncertainly. He looked down at her, failing to renew the distance between them.

A familiar tick twitched in his jaw, something she recognised as a signal of his frustration and indecision. Staring at her, he slowly reached forward, losing some inner battle. His rough fingers brushed against the smooth skin of her cheek, and she was startled by the sensation.

There was conflict in his blue eyes, and they captured her with a mixture of genuine confusion and concern. "You know I'm going to hurt you," he said lowly.

Cameron continued to stare up at him, affected by his apprehension. She felt her arm lifting of its own accord, and ran her thumb slowly over his jaw, enjoying the coarse sensation of his stubble. She was oddly calmed by the gesture, and had an innate need to reassure him. "In case you haven't noticed," she whispered gently. "That probably goes both ways."

He swallowed, unable to disagree with her. He continued to stare at her, even as he bent forward and drew her towards him, pressing his lips softly over hers.

Her heart contracted at the contact, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

The kiss was neither frantic nor desperate; a sharp contrast to their first time. Cameron was taken aback by the veracity behind his touch. He was infinitely gentle, exploring her like she was made of glass or something equally fragile. Like he treasured her.

She slid her hands over the front of his shirt, allowing herself to enjoy the warmth and smoothness of the cotton. His cool fingers tangled in her hair, skimming her scalp, softly stroking her cheek.

She opened her mouth to allow him better access, caressing his lips gently with her own. She felt him relenting to her with a sort of desperate trust and need. She knew he was insecure. It was something her younger self had failed to grasp, but she knew now he guarded his heart out of caution, not coldness.

House deflated faintly against her, and she could pinpoint the exact moment he gave into her. She knew, because it was the exact moment she felt herself giving into him.

----------------------------