Title: Tragic - PT 9
Rating: R (language)
Summary: Cameron's life full is tragedy at times... (Cam's POV - kind of) in her eyes, and how she copes - or doesn't.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, just playing...
Note: PT 9 - Lots of changes for Cam...
Note: As always, I hate good punctuation, I am horrible with grammar, and I reserve everything to be a work in progress... (oh, and perhaps created my own word or two here! ;) oops!) - And I've read it a 100 times, so I apologize if I screwed up tenses with this POV...grrr --oh yeah, this still stands - I'm very headachy

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You hold the mail in your hands. Your mail. The envelope is staring at you. The logo screaming at you. Your hands are frozen. Your legs are two concrete pillars. You don't want to move. It is possible that your life is going to change. It may change the minute your fingers rip open the very envelope you are holding. New York Presbyterian/Columbia. One of the top medical institutions in the country. This could be it.

You move from your entry way and sit on the couch. Your memory flashes back to the cold day in September when you took the train from Princeton to Manhattan and met with the Chief of Immunology, David Silver. That lunch was so long ago, that you had forgotten about it. You were referred to him by a doctor you had met at Chase's Thanksgiving Dinner, who thought you would be perfect for a position that might be opening up at New York Presbyterian. He called Silver for you. You took the meeting. What the hell, it couldn't hurt, right?

The meeting went well, although you did not feel prepared for it at the time. Silver was older, and warm. His personality almost the complete opposite of House's. He was demanding, yet he had a twinkle in his eye that told you that he loved his job and that he really cared about his patients. Perhaps that was what had made him a bit aged before his years. His thick hair shockingly white, deep wrinkles around his eyes, his smile soft. God, he was like the grandfather you always wanted. You immediately warmed to him. Lunch lasted three hours as you discussed new research and various treatments and innovations in technology.

You continue to eye the cream colored envelope lying in the palm of your hands. Whatever this news could be, you know, may be complete upheaval to your life. You will either be devastated with rejection or overwhelmed by acceptance and shaken with the changes you will make because you just will not be able to say no. You have no choice but to open this letter by yourself. Who could you possibly share this with? (Well, besides, Pearl, but she's too young to really get it.) In your gut, the only person you even would remotely want to share this news with, surprisingly, is House, but simultaneously, he's the last person you want to tell about this. Because despite the answer, this "interview" will be a betrayal to him and he will dice you into pieces. Are you ready for that?

Pearl coos encouragement from her swing. You look at her lovingly. This could be a very good thing for you. This could be a very good thing for her. She's smiling. You smile back at her, completely enchanted by her little face, fingers in her mouth, drool down her chin. You know there is nothing you wouldn't do to give your daughter the best life possible. You know that life in New York City will be different and difficult at times, but it could be a wonderful learning experience for you and her, and a wealth of opportunities and knowledge. Hopefully, if there is a job offer waiting for you in this envelope, you can provide your daughter a more than comfortable life. With those thoughts and Pearl's innocent smile, you rip open the envelope and start scanning the letter.

Your hands are shaking and you are staring at your life's latest upheaval. In writing, Dr. Silver is making you a most formal and generous offer to join his team at Columbia-Presbyterian. The letter outlines the offer with extreme detail, including a large salary hike, benefits, daycare benefits, moving expenses, and the opportunity for corporate housing for up to a year or until you can locate your own place. Dr. Silver is out of the country at some conferences, but did not want to hold up the offer any longer, hence the letter. You have two weeks to make a decision. Unfortunately and ultimately, you know that decision.

In the last four years, you know that you have aged quite a bit. You are no longer the naive girl that House once thought you were. You were never really that girl. What you project on the outside has grown, aged, matured. With every step you continue to take, you feel yourself growing, changing. You feel the fine lines around your eyes changing, the skin tightening a bit differently when you smile. You notice that your eyes are a bit more tired when you look at yourself in the mirror. You've lost something. As you head toward House's office to tell him you're leaving, you're afraid at what else you are about to lose. You wonder how differently you will look when you leave that office. You wonder if you could take a "before" and "after" picture of yourself. All you hope is that you can leave his office not in tears and holding your head up.

You approach the glass door and try to size up his mood. He's been a little better since his little visit with Pearl, you hate to say it but she's like sugar-medicine for him. You never discussed your argument; you don't know what you would say. He's fidgeting around with some papers on his desk and seems to be doing some work, and this is a bit alarming to you. You know that he is not going to take this news well. You have already spoken with Dr. Silver's office and have arranged for a start date of March 1st. You are basically giving PPTH your two-week notice. You know how temperamental and territorial House is, he is sure to make this difficult for you.

You enter his office and ask if you could talk to him. He looks up at you and tells you to take a seat, asking you "What's up?" like you're going to have a friendly little chat or maybe a discussion about why the two of you have such a fucked up "relationship" or whatever-you-want-to-call-it. Your palms are sweaty as you hand him your resignation letter, which he takes from you with a question in his eyes.

"What's this?"

You tell him that you are leaving, that you are giving him your two weeks notice and that piece of paper is your letter of resignation. He laughs and tosses the letter onto the desk.

"You can't do that, you have a contract," he tells you matter-of-factly.

Actually, you can. When your last contract was up and you renewed, you signed an open-ended contract that enabled you to leave whenever you wanted to. His face is drawn and quiet. He asks you where you are going. You tell him.

"Aha, so Davie Silver has come and recruited you and snagged you away! My! Doctor Cameron aren't we growing up! Do you think you're ready to fly away and leave the coop?" he snarls.

You tell him that you don't think it's an opportunity you could turn down.

"No, I guess not," he mock frowns, "because now you'll be the fine piece of art work at an even bigger hospital! Where there are even older and more wealthier men to admire it!"

You ask him not to do this.

"Do what?" he says, picking up his cane, beginning to twirl it. (His distraction.) "Are you going to do the long commute from Princeton every day or are going to become Mary Tyler Moore and try to make it as a big city girl?"

You stand to leave. You tell him to just read the letter, which you know you composed with care. You turn to leave. Hesitating at the door, you beg him not to make the next two weeks anymore difficult than they already are going to be. You lift your eyes and meet his stare. You tell him not to shit on everything, especially for Pearl's sake, because you know he cares about her. Just because you plan on moving to Manhattan doesn't mean that she has to be totally gone from his life.

You leave. Somehow you found a steel rod and shoved it into your spine. You hold your head up and walk down the corridor. You feel like you are outside your body as you hear your heels click down the hall. You make into the ladies room, then rush into a stall and throw up.

Others take your leaving pretty well, for the most part. Those who give you a hard time, surprise you. You are sitting in the cafeteria having some mint tea, hoping it will calm you and your stomach a bit when Foreman pulls up a chair.

"You're kidding, right?"

About?

"Columbia-Presbyterian."

No, you are not.

"Do you know what you are doing to him?" He looks at you with wide eyes, eyebrows to the ceiling.

You look at him in shock. What is he talking about?

"House."

Is he serious?

"Allison, you just can't go and leave him like this." He continues in an urgent tone.

You laugh. Surely, he's kidding. Of all people, you least expected this from Eric, the overprotective big brother.

He sighs and looks at you. "Really, I'm happy for you. This is really a wonderful thing for you, really, congratulations." He pauses and takes a deep breath, leaning in closer to you, "but do you have any idea what you are doing to House. This is going to kill him. You not being here, you not working here, you not living here. And Pearl. He loves that little girl, no matter what he says. Cam, as much as I hate to say it, and as much as I wish it wasn't House, he really cares about you. Just the jackass is totally stunted. I don't know what's going to happen if you go."

You tell Eric it's not like you're moving to California. It's sixty miles. One hour drive. Hello, there's a train! (You are desperately trying to block out everything that he is saying about House to you. You can't think about these things.) But you are going. You can't be responsible for him. You just can't be. You have to think of Pearl first. Eric looks at you with slumped shoulders, his eyes are filled with regret and concern. "Okay, if you think that's what's best and that's what will make you happy. If you think you're doing the right thing . . . " he says.

Hey, you tell Foreman, House can always take the train and come and visit Pearl.

"Do you see the man taking the subway?"

Never tell House there is something he can't do, because he will just challenge you or fight you somehow, you tell Eric and you both laugh a bit.

House is unusually quiet over the next two weeks - very little snarking at you, doesn't cut you up at all, spends as little time as possible in the room with you. Wilson and Cuddy are behaving similar. They have been supportive, and have volunteered to help you in your move, but you know they are concerned about House. You can't think about that, you can't think about him. You need to think forward.

You have arranged to take a corporate apartment until you can find your own. Most of your things will go into storage because the apartment comes furnished. They have paid for people to come and do packing for you, but there are some things you want to pack up on your own. You come across the Christmas gift you never gave House. It was the picture you took of him and Pearl when she first came from the hospital. The Kodak moment that you snapped for her scrapbook. You blew up the photo and put it in a lovely frame for him. The picture came out beautiful. It's a bit mushy, you think, for him, but you think he should have it. You realize you never thanked him for the gifts he gave you and Pearl. You know you need to do this.

New York Presbyterian referred a new pediatrician for Pearl, you have a copy of her records sent over there and set up an appointment for a check up shortly after you move. You find a new OBGYN and therapist, so you keep up with your own health. You have info about the daycare center at the hospital for hospital staff, and have been referred to a nanny by Annie, so you're looking forward to meeting her and hoping that will work out. You think you have all your ducks in a row. You called Emily and Charles and let them know about the move. You're having dinner with them Sunday. They were surprised by your move, but you promised (and you are true) that you will continue to keep in touch and visit. You kept reminding them that they're not far away. You keep asking yourself why does everyone think the City is so far away?

Your moving day is approaching quickly. You will be moving on the 25th of February, which will give you a few days to get acquainted with your neighborhood and get settled in your apartment, etc. Your last day at PPTH is the 24th. You've been going through files, tidying up paperwork, passing on information to Donovan and Tate, who with each passing day seem to dread your departure. Wilson has been given the task of interviewing for House for your position. House has refused to look at CV's and was behaving like a three year old about the whole thing. As a board member, Wilson took it upon himself to rescue his friend (again).

It's getting strange, the thought of leaving a place that has become like home to you. Memories so strong, happy and painful at the same time. Your connections here have been life lines, your umbilical cord that you are afraid to cut. Will you bleed to death?

Your last two days are odd and quiet. Everyone is avoiding you. No one knows what to say. You have declined a goodbye party. Cuddy is going to be out of town on business and has said goodbye early. You told everyone that the movers are doing everything and you don't need their help. Which is true. You know you need to do all of this on your own. Because now, you really have to do everything on your own. There will be no more net to catch you.

It's your last day. Tate and Donovan bring you flowers and breakfast. You tell them they can email you if they have questions that perhaps you can answer or help them with until they are a little more settled, though you think they'll be just fine, and besides, Foreman's just upstairs. Wilson and Foreman take you to lunch. House is missing most of the day. Stacey comes by to wish you well (a surprise to you). She gives you copies of your legal documents and gives you her home number in case you need anything or if you have any emergencies.

It's getting dark. You want to say goodbye to House, you know it won't be easy. You don't really want to do it. Goodbyes were never really your thing. You did it once before with him the first time you quit and you felt like a fool, but in fact, it was one of the hardest things you ever did . . . tell him goodbye. You've checked his normal hiding places. Wilson asks you what did you expect? (Like you're supposed to fix anything? Everyone assumes that.) You heard he was actually fulfilling all his clinic hours and seeing patients today, but by the time you go downstairs, the clinic is empty and he's not even hiding out in any of the examination rooms.

You're about to give up. As you head back to the Diagnostic Offices for the last time to gather your bag, you see him enter his office. You smile with relief. Good, you were about to leave him a note and his Christmas gift.

You put your coat on, grab your purse and get the package. You bring it into his office. You don't bother knocking because there is no point in being polite today.

"Ah, Dr. Cameron, still here?"

You tell him you were just about to leave but you had one last thing to do.

"I'm not very good at goodbyes."

You tell him you're not here to say goodbye, because you don't particularly like them yourself, so you're just going to say goodnight, you smile warmly at him.

You know he's uncomfortable. This time it's his turn to clench. First, you tell him you never had a chance to thank him for the Christmas gifts that he got you and Pearl. You tell him how much she loves Mozart and that her prized yo-yo is sitting upon her dresser waiting for the day when she can be taught how to "walk the dog." He smiles and glances down.

You tell him normally you would have written a thank you note, but it kind of got away from you, but that's another story for another time (you think of kicking the boxes and the bruise running up your side and you falling with Pearl). He looks at you curiously narrowing his blue eyes. You tell him you love the scarf as you touch the soft fabric around your neck. The book is very handy, especially as you gear up for your big move. The necklace, well, the necklace was especially touching. And if you ever have another child one day you will put that child's picture in the other side. You smile. You've said your peace.

He looks at you with surprise. "You mean you didn't put a picture of Ryan in there?"

You are confused. Why would you?

"Because he's the father of your child, the love of you life?"

You laugh. And sigh. (Silly, silly man.) No, you tell him. He was not the love of your life. Yes, you loved him in a way, but really, he was just a chapter in your book. You tell him that you believe that your life is filled with many chapters and you believe that you were meant to have more than one love of your life. Unfortunately, it was a lie to yourself, he was not one of them. You smile warmly at House and you thank him for the thought.

You want to close the awkwardness that is between the two of you. You hand him the gift that you have for him, explaining that you got him this for Christmas, just never got around to give it to him. You tell him that you hope he likes it, you think it's special because it was a special moment. He looks at you quizzically. In a swift and fluid motion, you close the distance between you even more and quickly lean in, reaching up, kissing him on the cheek and embracing him, feeling the warmth of his body in your arms (he is frozen still). You shiver. (You love the way he smells.) You say goodnight and tell him that Manhattan is not far when he wants to visit Pearl, especially since he hasn't had a chance to say his own goodbye's to her. You tell him the offer to visit is open whenever - if ever - he wants. You turn and leave without looking at him. Because you just can't.

END PT 9