A/N: I had a tough time writing this chapter. I'm trying really, really hard not to be too fluffy, so please forgive me if this makes you feel soft! And please review, it keeps me going :)
Disclaimer: Yep, at this point I think it's safe to say that House owns me.
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They arrived at Sea-Tac airport just past noon; they had been lucky and gotten a non-stop flight. Nonetheless, they were both tired. Cameron had called her brother again before they left and he was there to pick them up at the baggage claim.
"Nick," Cameron ran lightly to her brother and gave him a hug. "How are you? Thanks for coming to get us. Did you get a chance to call Grace for me?" She and Grace had been best friends since the sixth grade; there was nobody who understood her better.
"Yeah, she left this morning. She should be here in a couple of hours." He looked over at House, who was standing back. "You must be Dr. House," Nick said with a grin. "It's nice to finally meet you." He turned back to Cameron. "Are you guys…staying with dad?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.
"God, no," Cameron said quickly. "I'm kind of surprised that Dad's even coming to the funeral tomorrow. Besides," she blushed, "we need two rooms, little brother. There's not enough room at dad's house. I thought we'd just stay at the Silverdale Inn since it's right in the middle of town. Maybe…visit some old haunts. I didn't book my return flight for a week, thought I'd see the place again." The slightest hint of sorrow was in her voice.
House had remained pretty quiet on the trip from the airport. He took in what little there was to see, and as they moved out of the city, he started to notice the broad, full evergreens, the mountains that were still slightly snow-capped even in summer, and the crisp, dark water of the canals and inlets they passed. He smiled to himself and thought she's a small-town girl, alright. It was refreshing to know that her innocence wasn't the spoiled rich girl type. Although he and Cameron had learned more about each other over the past couple of months, when it came to her family and her childhood, she had been reluctant to talk much about that part of her life. Wilson's right… he thought with a frown.
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"Don't worry about the funeral, Al," Nick reassured his sister as they checked into the hotel. "I've got all of that taken care of. I'll pick you up around nine-thirty tomorrow." He turned to House. "Good to meet you again, Doc. Later."
Of course, Cameron and House had ended up with rooms that had an adjoining door. House bent down to look at the keyhole. "Do you use bobby pins in your hair? I wonder if I can pick this lock." His eyes narrowed. "Gotta take advantage of you sometime, or else people will really think I'm crazy." He stood up, turned around, and suddenly found himself in the middle of a shaky hug.
Cameron stepped back from it quickly, tears shining on her cheeks. She laughed. "You never fail, House. Cracking a joke when everything else…sucks. Thanks." He could almost see the child she must have been. He wanted to know more about her mom, but didn't ask. She would tell him when she was ready. He handed her a tissue from the box in the bathroom.
"So let's get out of here," he suggested. "We don't have a car, but I assume from the size of this town that there's somewhere within walking distance that we can go." He looked out the window at the gray inlet beyond the hotel.
Cameron sat in a chair, absently biting her nails. "Yeah," she said plainly. "There's a little park not too far from here; I spent a lot of time there as a teenager. There's not much to do in this town." She stood up and gathered her purse. "Let's go."
They walked along the inlet until they came to the park. Cameron, not surprised, noticed that it hadn't changed much since the last time she'd been there more than ten years ago. She walked along to a pier and followed it out over the water, almost in a daze.
"This isn't the same place we were in my dream," House said to himself. "I wonder where that is?"
Cameron turned, her long hair blowing in the breeze. "What?" She asked.
House looked up. "Oh, nothing," he said quickly. "Just thinking out loud. Are you going to go down to the dock?"
"Yeah," she nodded and headed down the ramp. Even the dock was the same; only three rows. There were clusters of barnacles popping in and out of view on the support posts as the water moved the dock up and down. She walked out to the end of the third row of tie-ups and gingerly sat down. She rubbed her fingers along the faded marks where some kids had probably written the initials of their crushes with a permanent marker. She smiled, remembering the antics she had once been a part of. They seemed like another life.
House quietly sat down next to her and folded his cane into his lap.
Cameron started talking as she looked out across the water. "My mom was diagnosed with Depersonalization Disorder when I was twelve." She sighed. "She went on meds, but no matter what they tried, nothing worked very well. When I was fifteen, she left us. Told my dad she didn't love him, hadn't loved him for years." Cameron had no tears left; she spoke as if she were talking about someone other than herself. "It was my aunt who finally put her in the hospital. She has three kids of her own, a life, a job; my mom was wasting away. She didn't care about anything anymore." House quietly took her hand as she trembled again. "I guess she'd been palming her meds for the past few weeks; my brother said she died of a seizure." She laid her head on House's shoulder and they sat for a while in silence.
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Later that afternoon, they sat at a diner across the street from the hotel for an early dinner when Cameron jumped at the sight of her best friend coming in through the door. "I knew I'd find you here," Grace said as the two women hugged fiercely. "Have you gone to see your dad yet?"
"No, you know him. He's just like me; he knows how I feel and that I'll…get through it. You remember how it was with Joe." She spoke briefly of her husband. Another memory that seemed older than it really was. "I'll talk to him tomorrow." She turned to House. "This is my boss," she smirked. "He insisted on coming with me."
"So you're the one who knows all of Cameron's little secrets," he said, lightly taking Grace's offered hand. "Sit. Spill it."
The three of them talked for the better part of an hour about nothing in particular, laughter surprisingly peppering the conversation.
"I know I've told you this a million times over the years," Grace said after House had excused himself to the restroom, "but you must be insane. He's…old." She grimaced.
"You sound just like Chase. Maybe I should give you his number. Anyway, yeah, so he's older than me. It's been over a year since the date we had. I'm not looking for anything here anymore. I just need a friend." Cameron sighed. "The only people who know me better than he does after all this time are you and Nick. And the two of you are so far away…" she trailed off.
Grace came around the table and gave her friend another hug. "I know sweetie. I miss you too. I'm glad you have someone close by that you can trust." At that moment, House came back and picked up the check.
"Don't even argue with me, Cam," he said before she could protest. "It's the least I can do. Now I know it's early, but maybe you should get some rest. Let's get back to the hotel."
They said goodbye to Grace and headed back across the street. Too tired to argue, Cameron changed for bed while House went to his room to call the front desk. "This is room 247, we have an inter-room door and were wondering if we could go ahead and get that key." He glanced at the door, thinking to himself. "And I'd like to change the credit card number you have on the account. Yes, I'll be down in a minute to confirm and get the key. Thank you." He hung up.
Cameron was settling into bed with a book when she heard the rap on the door. She padded softly across the carpet. "House, I'm in bed, I promise. How am I supposed to sleep if you're going to interrupt…" she stopped as she opened the door. House looked up at her from a cart full of dessert.
"One of each," he smirked. "Time like these call for drastic measures. You can only have them if you share."
"House, you're one of a kind," she smiled as she let him in.
After they had filled themselves of pie, cake, and other sweets, Cameron crawled under the covers as House switched off the light for her. "You're reading Sherlock Holmes?" He asked, noticing the volume on the nightstand. "Interesting."
"Yeah," she yawned. "I've never read those before." She closed her eyes and was almost immediately asleep.
House moved to take the dessert cart and place it outside the door. He was about to leave when he changed his mind, pulled up a chair to the end of Cameron's bed, and watched her in the faint moonlight for a few moments before falling asleep himself.
'Tell her I'm sorry," she said. She looked like Cameron, only older and frailer. 'I never told her that. I've lost so many years, trapped by this…disease.' House guessed that this was her mother. Funny how dreams work; he had never seen her, never met her. 'She told me about you,' the woman continued. 'She never came to see me, but she called me on the phone. On my birthday. I couldn't remember when I was alive.' House nodded, and turned back to Cameron, who sat on the dock again, crying.