Title: Cracked Rear View
Fandom: House
Pairing: Previous House/Stacy, unrequited House/Cameron.
CD & Song: Say I Am You – Not Your Year (The Weepies)
Rating: FRT
Notes: Minor spoilers for 2.10 "Failure to Communicate"; also for the prompt i Stacy Warner / Dr. Allison Cameron / rooftop at Ragna's Almost Totally Random prompt generator.

Cracked Rear View

Scattered shadows on a wall, you watch the long light fall
Some impressions stay and some will fade
Tattered shoes outside your door, clothes all on the floor
Your life feels like the morning after all year long

You realize that soon, it will have been nearly a year since you first decided that you were in love with him. It's not as if you're counting or anything. But maybe you are. You want to know that he loves you, but that's obviously not going to happen. He's still in love with Stacy, and you were wrong when you thought he couldn't love anyone; he just couldn't love you. It hurts in a way that you haven't felt before, not even when your husband died.

It's cold and you're thankful for it, because it distracts you from thinking (at least too much) about House. You remember when he told you that he didn't like you, and how it stung even though you know he didn't mean it, not then and not now. Not ever. But just as that thought crosses your mind, the door to the rooftop bangs open and she comes out, and you hate it. This was supposed to be your alone time, time to give you a little space to mourn your unrequited love in solitude and snow.

She glances at you out of the corner of her eyes as she shuffles her feet and shoves her gloved hands into her jacket pocket. You can tell that this is just as uncomfortable for her as it is for you, but somehow that doesn't make it any easier.

Every day it starts again
You cannot say if you're happy
You keep trying to be
Try harder, maybe this is not your year

"Hey, Allison. You're a good doctor, you know that?"

Stacy's attempt at conversation surprises you; you had thought that she might go for the obvious "It's really cold out here" or that she might ignore you altogether. But despite any animosity you have towards her, the fact that she would compliment your skills when obviously she still isn't any kind of easy around you – it means something. You're not quite sure what yet.

"Thanks," you say. You know that it's kind of obvious that you doubt her comment because she shoots you a quick and sincere smile as she looks out over the snowy grounds of the hospital.

"I heard you've been having arguments with Mark. I'm sorry."

She stares at you, a hard penetrating stare that makes you wish you hadn't said anything because you know that it really wasn't your place. She sighs regretfully and leans forward on the wall, resting her elbows on the dusting of snow there.

"It's true. And over the smallest things, too. I don't understand it; I don't think I want to, either." Stacy pauses a moment before saying, "He thinks I'm still in love with Greg."

Movies, TV screens reflect just what you expected
There's a world of shiny people somewhere else
Out there, following their bliss
Living easy, getting kissed
While you wonder what else you're doing wrong

You could've seen this coming, if you were looking for it. But you weren't and even though you don't want to know the answer to the question, you ask it anyway. You hate yourself for it the millisecond after it leaves your mouth and the worst thing is, she doesn't even seem surprised that you've asked.

"Do you? Still love him, I mean."

You're careful not to look at her as she replies, because just in case she says yes, you don't want her to see the deep despair that will appear in your eyes. And, if she (hopefully) says no, you really don't want her to see the relief in your eyes – which would just be rude.

"I never really thought about it; I was always so busy loving Mark that I tried not to think about it. But I do still love him. And, Allison, you have to believe me—"

Her cellphone rings just then, and you're grateful for it, because you don't want to hear apologies. Not ever, and not from Stacy, because no one should apologize for love and you're trying so hard to hate her right now. Inside, you know that you're too nice to hate her if she apologizes. She sends you a soft look and says she has to go, some legal trouble (no doubt about ethics and House and a possible lawsuit if Cuddy didn't intervene as soon as possible—) and then she's walking quickly back to the door and the wind starts picking up. You can tell that it's going to snow harder; the flakes are getting thicker and more frequent, and you think that maybe you should go inside as well.

Even though the wind is picking up fiercely, it's nearly howling now, before Stacy returns to the warmth of the hospital you hear her say, "Sorry."

Breathe through it, write lists of desires
Make a toast, make a wish, slash some tires
Paint a heart repeating, beating
"Don't give up, don't give up, don't give up."