House and Wilson sat slumped beside each other on the couch in House's apartment, eyes on the TV. House and Cameron were due to be at the airport in a few hours for check-in. Cameron was with Lisa, apparently learning the best methods for telling her family she was pregnant, so that left House and Wilson to fall back into their forgotten routine of mindless beer- and football-filled afternoons. Wilson had been sighing in a loud, dejected manner the last few minutes, and it was beginning to distress House.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" he had finally asked, with a little more concern than he'd intended.
"I've just been thinking," Wilson replied, a sad note ringing in his voice.
"Oh Christ," House murmured.
Wilson glanced up at him. His brown eyes were tired, and House's stomach lurched at the sight of them. Having a child was not easy for his friend, and that evidence was etching itself onto his features. House knew that Wilson took more of the responsibilities of raising a child than Lisa. It wasn't Lisa's fault, of course. It was just that Wilson wanted it that way. House figured that it was another part of his pathology; Rebecca needed him. Wilson was just having a hard time juggling parenthood with work.
"Lisa has been really busy at work ever since she went back, and… I could never ask her to do it," Wilson said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself of something.
"Wilson," House prompted. "Do what?"
Wilson hesitated, but when he did answer, House was completely shocked. "I'm thinking about leaving my position at the hospital."
House's stomach began to spin, and he thought he might hurl all over his couch. If Wilson left, it would leave a huge hole for him at work. Wilson was always there to entertain him, to buy him lunch. He would probably starve now, because Wilson wanted to be responsible.
"Lisa makes enough money to support all of us, and I worry about Rebecca –"
"You don't have to explain yourself to me," House interrupted bitterly. He didn't want to have to hear his excuses. Not when his own mind was providing him with plenty of other reasons.
"House, are you… are you upset about this?" Wilson sounded genuinely concerned, and House knew that he was going to have to make up some absurd lie and fast.
"No, I just don't want to listen to you talk. Your voice is giving me a headache." Wilson shot him a disbelieving look, but decided to let it slide. House had enough crap to deal with, what with the upcoming visit to Cameron's family.
After a few minutes of quiet, Wilson spoke again. "So what's Cameron planning on doing then?" House's face scrunched up in confusion, and Wilson clarified, "After the baby is born. Is she staying at the hospital or what?"
Actually, House had never thought about that, and he wasn't sure if Cameron had either. If Cameron left the hospital as well, he'd only have his remaining ducklings and Lisa to talk to. And that would make for an incredibly boring workday. They really hadn't spoken much about how this child was going to change their lives. House remembered how disapproving Cameron felt about Rebecca being born out of wedlock, and he had a feeling that she wasn't just going overlook it this time. And then there was the living situation. Cameron still had her apartment, but she hardly ever stayed there; usually only when she had to work late, since it was closer to the hospital. As much as he dreaded thinking about it, House knew that they were going to have to have a talk.
House was saved from answering Wilson by the arrival of Cameron and Lisa. House noticed that Wilson sat himself up a little straighter in his wife's presence, and started toying uncomfortably with the label on his beer bottle.
"I can see you've had a productive afternoon," Cameron said with mock disappointment, sliding her arms around House's neck.
"Hey, I am packed and ready to leave at your command." He tilted his head back so that he could meet her lips with his.
"Oh, how cute," Lisa said, annoyance creeping into her voice. "James, are you ready to go? We have to go pick up Rebecca at my sister's." Wilson dropped his feet to the floor, clinking his bottle on the coffee table.
"Ready, dear," Wilson answered in a syrupy voice, winking at House. House made a gagging sound, earning him a slap across the head from Cameron.
"Thanks so much, Lisa," she said, moving towards the door.
"Anytime, Allison. I hope you two have a good trip." She paused, glancing at House. "Good luck." Offering a parting smile, she pushed Wilson through the front door, Cameron closing it behind them.
"What's up your ass?" she asked as she sat herself down where Wilson had been only moments before. House was scowling at the TV, which was playing an episode of General Hospital.
"Sometimes I look at what's become of my life, and I want to cry."
Cameron knew that House had taken some outrageous leaps, in the last year. She had seen sides of him that she had sworn to herself didn't exist. Before any relationship between them had grown, Wilson had told her how broken House was. Cameron did know that after what Stacy had done to him, he had closed himself off from people. A lot of the time, she couldn't really blame him. She knew all too well what it was like to have her trust in someone thrown back in her face. Even then, she couldn't excuse all of his behavior. But she knew he was trying, ever so slightly, to change. She told herself that it was only because the idea of a being a dad had instilled some means of responsibility in him, instead of it being because of her.
"I've never seen you cry," she said wearily.
"There's a reason for that." His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "I am very unattractive when I cry."
Cameron smirked, deciding against saying the words that had popped into her head. "You're packed then?" she asked instead,
"Yep, and I even took the liberty of packing for you, too. Nothing but black frilly things and low-rider jeans." Cameron couldn't resist rolling her eyes. Sometimes she felt that she was living with a twelve-year-old. Shifting so that she was straddling him, she ran a hand across his still-smooth cheek.
"You are ridiculous," she whispered, her mouth against his skin. "My family's gonna love you." House was sure that Cameron was trying to reassure him, but for some reason, knowing that her family would approve of him didn't help much. "Come on," she sighed, easing herself off of him. "We should get going." House nodded, reaching for his cane as he got to his feet.
"I'm getting the feeling that you don't trust me when it comes to arriving in a timely fashion," he called, listening to her rummaging around in the bedroom. He could hear her chuckle from where he stood.
"No, I don't trust you when it comes to people who do, in fact, know what they are doing."
House was forced toremember their flight home from Florida almost four months before. When they'd gotten back to New Jersey, his bag was not there waiting for him. After an hour of yelling at the unfortunate girl behind the counter, his bag was located; it was still back in the Miami airport. Apparently, they had been worried about the massive amounts of Vicodin they'd found. All House had to do was drop his jeans, exposing his scar, and his suitcase was arranged to be shipped up completely free. It had been an awkward experience for everyone, and the last thing that Cameron had heard, that poor girl who had been subjected to House's wrath had quit and gotten herself into medical school.
"Those people were morons," he said loudly as Cameron came out of the bedroom, two suitcases in tow. "You know that. I had maybe two extra bottles in that bag. What the hell was I going to do with two bottles of Vicodin?" It still pissed him off that anyone would mistake him for a drug dealer.
"OK. Stop your whining and help me out here," Cameron said impatiently. "Grab that backpack and the keys, would you?" Shaking his head, House did as he was told. By the time he'd found the car keys, and locked the apartment door behind him, Cameron was already in the passenger side seat of her car. House looked at her curiously as he limped around to the driver's side.
"You're going to let me drive?" he asked when he had the door opened. Cameron crossed her arms, her eyes trained straight ahead.
"You're a much more reckless driver than I am. You'll get us to the airport on time."
"I suppose you'd like me to get us there on time alive?" he asked sarcastically as he revved the engine. Cameron turned her head to glare at him. "Kidding," he pointed out. "Just…buckle your seat belt." She did so with a fearful efficiency that almost made him laugh.
Luck seemed to be on their side as they missed every red light on the way to the airport. House didn't need to reach unreasonable speeds just to get them there. He wasn't quite sure where Cameron's sudden fear of his driving had come from, but if he had to guess, it had something to do with the way she held her hands close against the slight bump of her stomach. When he found them a parking spot, she visibly relaxed beside him, her hands falling to her lap.
The lobby of the airport was surprising empty, save for a few business people with their briefcases. They wheeled their bags up to the Delta counter, interrupting the clerk from a personal phone call.
"Name?" She asked tetchily after she'd hung up.
"Greg House."
"One moment please." Her fingernails clacked noisily as she typed something into the computer. "And how many bags do you have to check today, Mr. and Mrs. House?" House didn't need to look, but he certainly felt Cameron stiffen beside him.
"Two," he answered.
"Are they tagged?"
"Yes."
"Alright. Over here on the scale, please." Since Cameron seemed to have becomeimmobile, House struggled with the bags, managing to get them up onto the platform. The clerk scribbled something down and handed over their boarding passes. "Thank you very much, and please enjoy your flight." The smile on her face was so fake, that House was tempted to reach out and see if it was actually painted on. Scooping the backpack off the floor, he steered Cameron in the direction of the security gates.
It was only after they were seated by the departure gate that Cameron said anything.
"What the hell did you do?" she asked quietly.
House took a bite of the pizza in his hand. "You know you're going to have to be more specific."
"At the check-in counter. What was that?" Her voice was flat, her eyes adamantly avoiding his.
"Oh. Well, I might've bought us tickets under the same surname for efficiency purposes." He broke off he the bit of cheese that was hanging from his mouth and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry if it freaked you out," he said seriously. "I meant to warn you beforehand."
"Right," she whispered.
"Really, I am sorry," he said softly. He was starting to feel awful, and knew that if the trip was already off to this great a start, he couldn't imagine what the next week would bring.
"I know," she said, smiling up at him. "It's just that Mr. and Mrs. House sounds almost like a sin to me." House honestly had no idea what to make of this, so he refused to think about it. Instead, he quickly changed the subject towards her family. He pretended that he was interested in her brothers, and what each of them was like. Cameron was happy to tell him all about them, warning him that the younger one, Kyle, might try to get him to help put together his model cars, while the older one, Bobby, would probably try to start up a conversation about the latest Hollywood gossip. She had begged him not to take anything anyone said too seriously. She was expecting her father, or even her older brother to tell House that he wasn't good enough for her, or something along those lines, and she didn't want them scarring him off. It had taken her too long just to get them to this point.
"Thank you for your patience," the man at the desk announced over the loudspeaker. "We will now start boarding our first-class passengers and anyone requiring special assistance onto the aircraft."
"Guess that's us," House said into her ear, gripping his cane. She wanted to ask if it was because they were in first-class or because he required special assistance, but decided that the air between them was already tense enough. She handed her boarding pass to the man at the desk, following House down the jetway after it had been scanned. Apparently, House had gotten them first-class seats, and Cameron was pretty sure it was because the coach seats didn't have nearly enough room for his leg. She let him have the window seat, and sat down with the backpack in her lap. It only took her a minute of searching through the pockets to find house's I-pod and gameboy. She dumped them in his lap, before tossing the bag in the overhead bin.
House was having a really hard time not getting himself stoned during the flight between his Vicodin and the scotch he'd gotten. With each passing minute he felt himself growing more and more nervous, though he wasn't really sure why. Cameron had grown up with this family, how bad could they be?