Wow. I can't even believe how long it's been since my last update. So, of course, I have to apologize to everyone who's been waiting. And now that I reread this chapter, I think that it's not exactly up to par with how the rest of Chipped has been going, but I thought I'd get it up for you tonight, though. I have no idea when I'll get chapter six up; I've started school, so everything's kinda crazy right now. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and forgive me for the wait.

Cameron had never been one for sharing her childhood memories, which was fine, because House wasn't really one for listening to them. But as Cameron drove them around the small town she'd grown up in, he found that every story she had to tell was more interesting than the last. He saw the pond she'd nearly drowned in one winter, saved just in time by her older brother, Bobby. She had shown him the movie theater where she'd gotten her first kiss. And he'd seen the building where the apartment Cameron and her husband had (ever-so-briefly) lived in.

When Cameron pulled up to the two-story brick building, House was sure he was in for a long-winded recounting of the many late nights spent with an old high school friend. But when House tore his gaze away from the crumbling cement steps and patchy front yard, he was met with Cameron's shiny, tear-filled eyes. Instinctively, he reached out to clasp her fingers, but they clutched desperately at the steering wheel, so instead he settled his hand just above her knee. Her breath came unevenly and ragged as she fought back the threatening tears. House kept his mouth shut – there was something that needed to be said here, and he'd let her say it.

When she spoke, her voice was strong, without the faintest hint of tears.

"He was so damn stubborn." Her right hand fell from the steering wheel, and her fingers laced with his, silently seeking support. "When we were looking for somewhere to live, I found this beautiful house on the other side of town. I knew that was where I wanted us to live together, but when I showed Davy…" She interrupted herself with a brief chuckle as she remembered. "My parents were going to help us afford the rent, but Davy wouldn't have that. Well, that's what his excuse was, anyway. One night, though, I overheard him telling a friend that he was refusing because he didn't want to leave me in that big house all alone when he died." House tightened his grip on her fingers. "By the next week, we had moved into the apartment."

Not a tear fell while she told him the story behind this particular building. House knew that he should say something that would distill the silence that had blanketed them, but he had never been good at finding just the words that could do that.

So he said the one thing that seemed appropriate.

"I love you."

And that brought Cameron to tears.

After that, they both agreed that their day out on the town hadn't exactly been up to par. So Cameron brought them back, and it was only a little after three when they found themselves back at her childhood home. Almost the second they stepped in the door, Martha was there, asking help of Cameron. She'd glanced frantically at House, begging that he save her. So of course, he said that he was actually a little tired and was just going to take a nap. Cameron glared at him, and he knew he was going to get it later.

"So, how was your day?" Martha asked as she led Cameron to the kitchen.

"Fine, Ma," Cameron answered distractedly. She noticed that it was a little quiet in the house, especially if her entire family was there; they weren't exactly a quiet bunch. "Where is everyone?"

"Out back," Martha replied over her shoulder as she moved towards the stove, where a massive pot of what appeared to be potatoes was boiling over. "Playing with Mary's new dog."

"She got another one?" Cameron's aunt, Mary, had always had at least seven dogs living in her apartment at a time. Cameron wasn't sure why she was so surprised.

"Ally, give me a hand?"

Cameron stepped closer, taking a pot holder in her hand so she could help her mother dump out the water. Steam kissed her face, and she thought that this would probably be the best time to break the news about the baby.

"Mom, I-"

"When is he going to do it, then?" Martha interrupted. She tried to make the question sound offhanded and casual, but Cameron could tell how forced it sounded.

"Do what?" Cameron asked unsurely.

"Propose," she answered matter-of-factly. Of course there would be no beating around the bush, not with her mother.

"I'm not sure that's something he wants," Cameron said, choosing her words carefully. No matter what came out of this conversation, it would not be something her mother would want to hear.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Martha's voice became slightly sharp as she turned to face her daughter.

It took everything Cameron had not to snap at her mother's tone. "He's been through a lot. Marriage is just…not something he's ready for." Martha sighed, wiping her pudgy hands on a dishtowel.

"Why do you this to yourself, Alison?" Cameron lifted an eyebrow, not even bothering to ask what she meant. "Why do you always get yourself into relationships that aren't going to go anywhere?"

And Cameron wouldn't even give her mother the benefit of an answer. Her face set into a scowl, she turned on her heel and stalked to the bedroom where hopefully House would be ready to take her to a hotel. As she left the kitchen, she nearly collided with her father, who had apparently been listening in on the conversation.

"Don't listen to her, Buttercup," he told her gently. "You're happy; that's what matters." Cameron smiled; she was a daddy's girl for a reason.

House was sprawled across the bedspread, arms flung to his sides.

"I want you to take me home," she said quickly. Lolling his head, House glanced up at her, those brilliant blue eyes bathing her in concern.

"What happened?" He tried to sit up, but his leg did not appreciate the sudden movement. Letting himself lay back down on the pillows, he fished in his pocket for his pills, while patting the bed next to him, suggesting Cameron join him.

"She was just..." she started as she settled herself against his side. "Being herself."

"Did you tell her?"

"I didn't even get the chance!" Her voice rose, shrill and grating. His fingers traced patterns across her belly. "I don't even know why I try, anymore. She's always been like this; telling me what I deserve. Nothing is ever good enough for me to her."

House didn't know exactly what it was Cameron's mother had said to make her want to leave, but what was being said practically showed him what wasn't. And it was him that wasn't good enough.

"We can leave tonight," he said softly into her hair.