Title: Succumb (19?)
Pairing: House/Cameron
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

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Cameron looked soft and angelic in sleep, a far cry from the emotionally battered woman the years had moulded her into.

House observed her quietly, cushioned against her silky sheets, ignoring the dull throbbing in his leg. Her dark hair was spread out on the pillow around her pale features, and her slender fingers were extended slightly on the mattress between them, curled inward with an almost childlike innocence.

He still found it difficult to believe that she had a child of her own. She was still so young to him in many ways, and still seemed so untouched by everything that occurred around her. The 'mother' label didn't feel like it applied to her; just like the 'widow' and 'martyr' labels he had given her before. Labels comforted him, yet they continually failed to adequately sum up Cameron.

She had changed so much since he last saw her, and part of him was envious he had been unable to witness that inward growth and development. He could admit he had once craved the credit of crafting her into the brilliant doctor he knew she could be. He had never really considered how her personal changes would affect his relationship with her as well.

He sighed, shifting onto his side, taking the opportunity to openly study her in sleep. She was beautiful, and yet she was so much more than that. He guessed she had probably suffered lifelong difficulty getting people to see that.

Cameron drew in a slight breath, squinting at him in her half-asleep state as she stirred. "Are you awake?" she murmured huskily.

He took a moment to answer, glancing at her quietly. "Yeah."

Her mouth quirked slightly, but she kept her eyes closed. He had slept with women before, had relationships with women before; but none of them had ever felt quite this intimate, this deep. He realised he had the power to break her, just as she had the power to break him.

"This is weird, isn't it?"

He had to smile, amused by her sleepy observation. It was a simplistic echo of his own darker thoughts. "Well I don't know about you, but weird could be interpreted as very insulting."

"It's a good thing," she whispered, lifting her fingers and brushing lightly against his cheek. It amazed him how trustingly she touched him, how effortlessly she reassured him.

His blue eyes searched her face as she closed her eyes again, and he smiled faintly. "Yeah," he agreed softly.

He still couldn't quite believe they had done this. He had himself so convinced anything with her was out of the question, but the temptation of her presence was so very very strong. He supposed it was only inevitable that he would yield.

She drifted off again, and he allowed himself to stroke a stray strand of hair out of her face. He glanced at the window, noting that slivers of morning light were straining to get through the blinds. It was still early. He located her bedside clock, which read 6:30am. While he was content to lie there and study Cameron for a while, he knew the longer he was awake the more his leg would ache.

He carefully slid off the bed, retrieving his clothes from the floor. His Vicodin rattled in his jacket pocket, and he extracted it, grasping his cane and limping out into the hall. His mouth was dry from sleep, and he went behind Cameron's kitchen counter, shuffling around for a glass and filling it with water, before swallowing the much-needed painkillers.

He glanced around Cameron's dimly lit apartment as he leant against the counter, inwardly estimating how long it would take the medication to kick in. There were a few minute cracks in the ceiling, and he crinkled his nose, wondering exactly how structurally sound the place really was. It wasn't exactly roomy, either. He would have to lecture Cameron about that later.

He was about to move, and was surprised when he felt the faint vibration of his cell phone in his pocket. He lifted a disbelieving eyebrow, tugging it out and flipping it swiftly to his ear. "What?" he barked irritably. Who the hell was calling him this early on a Saturday morning?

"Good morning to you too," Wilson said calmly. "So, how did it go?"

House squinted at the clock; just to be sure his eyes hadn't been deceiving him. No. It really was a quarter to seven in the morning. Only Wilson and his obsessive tennis-playing wife would be up at this hour. "'How did it go'?" he repeated dubiously. "Don't you think I would be more up for conversation in a few hours? Like say midday?"

"You have your morning dosage around this time. I figured I would catch you."

House tapped his thumb against the kitchen counter, rolling his eyes skyward. "I don't know who should be more scared that you know that— me, or your wife."

He could practically see Wilson scowling irritably on the other end of the line. "Come on, cough it up. What happened?"

"You're practically squealing. Hilary Duff called, she wants her personality back."

Wilson scoffed. "You know who Hilary Duff is?"

"That is completely besides the point."

"Sure it is," Wilson retorted. "So, have we done our evasive routine long enough yet?"

House sighed. "Worried I'm going to get you into trouble, Jimmy?"

Wilson was quick to retort. "Yes, actually, I am. Cameron's going to make me feel guilty, which is bad enough— but if she gets too uncomfortable to ask us to baby-sit again, then Julie is going to know something is going on, which will inevitably become my fault."

House sneered. "I always knew you were the true narcissist of this friendship."

"Please tell me the two of you didn't get into another argument. The atmosphere at the hospital is tense enough as it is."

"Know what?" House said flatly. "I think I feel my Vicodin kicking in. Which means it's time to go back to my beddy-by. Not even the cool cartoons are worth being up this early. That's why God invented a TiVo."

He clicked the phone closed before Wilson could protest. He didn't know why, but he was unwilling to let Wilson know what had happened. It was far too recent and precarious to tell anyone about it – even him.

He knew how Cameron was going to act after this. She was going to want solid answers, confirmation that this was a lasting commitment. He wasn't sure if he could offer her that. Like Wilson said, reassurances weren't exactly his strong suit. He was overcome by the faint urge to leave before things became even more complicated. But he knew he couldn't do that. He resisted hurting Cameron when he knew she had put so much on the line here. And a large part of him was curious to see exactly where this was headed.

He turned away from the counter, slipping his cell phone in the pocket of his blazer, and blinked in surprise when he realised Brooklyn stood below him, gazing up at him curiously.

"Hwo," she garbled.

He wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a greeting, or his name, and he rolled his eyes. There was almost a glimmer of knowledge in her dark brown eyes, and he shifted uneasily, staring down at her warily. "Of course, toddlers are up at this hour. They don't understand the concept of TiVo."

She grinned at him, clad in ridiculously bright red pyjamas. Apparently all he had to do was speak to restore her trust.

He glanced at the hall, unable to see Cameron's bedroom from where he stood. He reminded himself that she had been out with Foreman and Chase the night before, and she was probably exhausted.

He strode towards the living room sofa, scanning the room for the remote. Brooklyn scampered after him, struggling to climb onto the couch. He long sufferingly lifted her up, flipping on the television and idly searching for something to entertain them. He landed on an old Warner Brother's cartoon, and smirked in satisfaction, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Brooklyn grinned wider, eyes lighting on the television, and he wondered if Cameron even let her watch morning cartoons.

Someone was definitely going to have to fix that.

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The downy sheets tickled her cheek as Cameron languidly opened her eyes, blinking momentarily to adjust to the bright light streaming through the window.

She frowned, wondering why her blinds were open when she usually left them closed. She felt strangely uplifted, and her mild headache from the alcohol she had consumed the night before didn't bother her as much as it usually would have. It took her sluggish mind a long time to comprehend the reason behind her mood.

House.

She rolled on her back, and felt an unwilling jolt in her stomach when her skin came into contact with the cold, empty space beside her. Sitting upright, she glanced around the room, as if it would somehow offer her answers. Nothing was out of place; nothing indicated that he had been anything but a phantom presence in her bed the night before.

Her smile was short-lived, and she glanced at her bedside clock. 9:30am. Brooklyn had let her sleep in far longer than she normally did on a Saturday morning. She threw aside the duvet, climbing to her feet and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

She refused to jump to any conclusions. She grasped the robe she kept at her bedside, running her fingers vaguely through her hair. The fact that he had seemingly abandoned her didn't come as much of a surprise, but the sharp pang of hurt she felt waking up and finding him gone was unavoidable.

She felt like they had established some kind of connection the night before and she didn't think he would leave her after that.

She frowned when the distant sounds of voices filled her ears, and padded slowly across the carpet, opening the door with a soundless click.

She couldn't see the living room from the hall, but as she drew closer the unmistakable sounds of cartoon music bounced back at her. Bright morning light filtered through the room, casting shadows over the narrow passage. She tugged on her robe a little more tightly as she passed over them, striding uncertainly into the living room.

House was clad in his rumpled clothes from the night before, slouched on her sofa. Beside him in her pyjamas was Brooklyn, who shot him a brief grin as she swivelled her head between him and an old roadrunner cartoon playing out on the TV. Her adoration was obvious.

And Cameron realised it wasn't only her own heart she was guarding any more.

House turned his head, finally noticing her staring soundlessly in the doorway. He lifted an eyebrow, looking vaguely amused by her stunned expression. "Good morning, Sunshine," he drawled slowly. "Do something to tire yourself out last night?"

She shot him a weary look, inwardly amazed by his calm exterior. She hesitantly strode into the room, stopping in front of Brooklyn and running a hand gently over her soft hair before placing a kiss on her head. It was a clear, unconscious sign of her protectiveness, and it calmed her slightly.

She glanced at House, blinking quickly and rounding the sofa for the kitchen counter.

She went through the motions of preparing her morning coffee, moving at a particularly slow pace as her sluggish mind struggled to absorb her current situation.

He was… still here. He hadn't left. She had set herself up for disappointment and the reality was… surreal.

She drummed her fingers agitatedly on the Formica countertop. She finally turned, and came face to face with House standing directly behind her.

She swallowed up at him, again struck by the differences in their height. He was watching her intently, and his thoughts were, as always, entirely unreadable. "I'm starting to see the benefits of this," he said slowly. "Do I get any of that coffee?"

She nodded, hesitantly licking her lips. "Um, sure."

House tilted his head, studying her attentively. "Well gee, this certainty of yours must do wonders for guy's self-esteem. Luckily for both of us, I have a healthily sized ego."

She blinked, eyes widening timorously. "Sorry. I'm just…"

He shrugged, but he looked oddly understanding. "It's okay. I get it."

The fact that he didn't need to make an effort to understand made her remorse even more apparent. She watched him as he turned away, returning to the sofa and snatching the remote casually from Brooklyn's hands before she could damage the buttons.

She had no idea what the hell she was doing. Despite the fact that this was something she had wanted for years, she had had no realistic plans for their relationship when she had still been pursing him. Now… now she was content to just take things as they came. She knew neither of them was exactly ready to dive head-on into a long-term commitment.

Drawing in a deep sigh, she poured two mugs of coffee and returned to the couch, passing one to House and nursing the other in front of her as she settled on the empty space beside him.

As she subtly studied House, she could see the dents in his armour, the faint sighs that proved to her this an uncomfortable situation for him. She couldn't blame him. Her daughter was making their awkward morning after seem like a daily scene of domestic life, and it was… unsettling.

"Cameron."

She blinked, refocusing on House's face when she realised he was watching her. Brooklyn sat on his other side, mindless to their tension. She was normally their buffer, but there was no way she was going to help them get through this situation. None at all.

"Stop clenching," House said sternly.

She took another sip from her coffee, looking down at the faint steam rising from the liquid. "Sorry."

She dimly remembered waking up and saying something to him this morning, but she wasn't sure what it had been. That ease had gone. All she knew was that the cocoon of warmth from his body and her bed was a lingering sensation, one that made her skin buzz with anticipation at his nearness.

He sighed, leaning closer, brushing against her side so that they could talk without disrupting Brooklyn. She couldn't help the unconscious shiver that run through her. She was unused to his intimacy, and it left a faint ache deep inside her stomach. She swallowed slightly as his low voice rumbled by her ear.

"Okay. Get it out."

She twisted her head to look at him uncertainly. "What?"

House rolled his eyes. "Whatever you're thinking. The talking thing. Do it. Your window of opportunity is kind of small here. I'm all tolerant because of the coffee buzz and cartoon entertainment. You really know how to woo a guy."

She smiled wanly, tapping the edge of her mug. She was prepared to give him an out here. He wasn't acting like he wanted to leave, but he was a master at hiding his emotions. "I know we kind of rushed into this, after… last night. So I would understand if you just wanted to…"

House scowled heavily. "I'm going to chose not to address that," he grunted. "Next point of concern."

Cameron frowned, slightly perplexed by his swift dismissal. She shifted slightly. "Fine. What does this mean, House? We just… well—"

"It's okay to use the 'sex' word, Cameron," he said caustically. "I promise I won't blush."

Now she was the one who rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry if this is a little new to me."

"The sex thing?" he quipped. "Well that's just sad."

He sighed heavily at her exasperated expression, sparing a brief glance at Brooklyn who was still riveted to the television. Then he turned back to her, and she read a newfound softness in his blue eyes, one that filled her with unexpected warmth. "Look, I don't know about you, but I don't really have this thing planned out."

She nodded slowly, looking down again. "Right. I know."

"How about… we just see what happens?" he said carefully. She could tell he was having difficulty comforting her, but she also sensed an undercurrent of his own omnipresent uncertainty.

She couldn't believe how much he reminded her of a scared little boy. Leaning forward, she had the impulsive need to brush her lips gently over his. He glanced down at her in surprise, and she felt a smile quirk at her lips when she realised he would allow her to kiss him.

"Just for the record, coffee is as far as my domestic duties go," she murmured, keeping her gaze fixed intently on his. Anything she said to reassure him might sound forced or insincere in the moment, so she attempted to convey all of her certainty behind the strength of her gaze.

Sensing her intent, House briefly searched her eyes, nodding in satisfaction at whatever he found there. "Noted."

She smiled lightly, turning her attention quickly back to the TV to avoid splitting into a wide grin. If this morning got any more pleasant, she thought he might get up and bolt. Or… limp, anyway. Inwardly, she felt a deep rush of contentment, something she hadn't felt for… a long time.

Who was she kidding? They were already in way too deep.

She didn't want to come up for air anyway.

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