Okay, this has been really, really hard to finish. It had to be perfect. It probably isn't. Sigh.
Ghost From the Past (15/15)
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,365
Disclaimer: I own House. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except seasons 1 & 2 on DVD and my own insanity.
Summary: In the middle of a case, a figure from Cameron's past arrives, creating complications and confusions in her life.
Author's Note: As I said, this is my first House fanfic. The characters may be very, very OOC. It is possible. I have no medical experience, therefore anything I write is probably very wrong. No spoilers after season 2. This was patiently beta'd, twice. But if it's not perfect, that's 100 my fault.
Ghost From the Past
Chapter Fifteen: Laid to Rest
"I want a date," Cameron announced, coming into the diagnosis room.
House turned back from the board to look at her. "We tried that once. It wasn't a good idea."
She rolled her eyes. "Not you. Him."
She pointed to Chase. He looked up from the file that he was studying. His expression was incredulous. "Excuse me?"
"I told you," Cameron repeated. "I want a date. You've been medically cleared and back to work for two days. And I told you I loved you."
"I said it first," he said defensively. God, he was a bloody idiot. He hadn't done anything since the kiss. House had interrupted. It wasn't that Chase hadn't wanted to do more, but House had kept him busy since he got out of bed.
"My point is that you've been out of your hospital bed for two days," she continued. "If you love me, why haven't we gone on a date yet?"
"Um, Cameron," Chase began, "how about this new case we've got? The case that House pulled me out of my hospital bed for?"
Foreman looked at her, shrugging. "He's got a point, Cameron. We have been pulling some long hours lately."
"Yes, because someone can't stand that I chose Chase," Cameron said, slipping her hand into Chase's under the table. He looked at her in surprise.
"Spare me the mental images of you two together," House interrupted. "It would be nice if someone would diagnose the patient. It's what you get paid for."
"It's lupus," Foreman insisted.
Chase leaned over to Cameron's ear. "How about Saturday? We're both off. We'll make a day of it?"
"Sounds good," Cameron agreed softly and then raised her voice. "I'll go test for lupus."
"It's not lupus," House called after her.
"You've been wrong before," Chase said, getting to his feet. He had plans to make, and Foreman was right. It was lupus. House just didn't want to admit it. He'd come up with a diagnosis that used a similar treatment to that of lupus, so that he could keep them busy, cure the patient, and still be right.
Foreman caught up to Chase outside the room. "You really think House is wrong?"
"He made this case more interesting than it was so that he could get me out of bed early. He's been assigning us useless tests to keep us occupied. And we all know he's pissed about that two grand he lost to Wilson. It's complete bollocks," Chase answered.
"So, you're not going to run the tests House assigned you?" Foreman asked.
"I'll get Cameron to do them," Chase said. "I've got plans to make."
"Where are we going?" Cameron asked from the passenger seat in Chase's car. He'd told her to dress nice, but not too formal, and so she'd chosen a black dress with simple lines and a "v" neckline that was not too low, wearing a necklace that her husband had given her. She'd pinned half her hair up and curled the ends. Still, she felt nervous.
She wasn't overdressed. Chase had met her with a dark suit and one of his not-so-awful shirts with a plain black tie. He gave her some flowers, ushering her to the car before she could take them inside.
He was acting kind of suspicious, but she found it romantic as well. She was hoping that he would surprise her, and he was. She'd been in the car for a while now, and she still didn't know where they were going.
"You'll see when we get there," Chase promised, smiling.
"Are you lost?" Cameron frowned. This place did look familiar, but she'd thought that a few times already. She should know where they were.
"No, I'm not lost," Chase answered. "You're not thinking of jumping out of the car, are you?"
"No," she laughed. "What makes you say that?"
"You look anxious; you're practically pulling the armrest from the door," Chase said, smiling at her. Guiltily, she let go of the armrest. "My driving isn't that bad, is it?"
"No," she shook her head. "I just—I realized where we are. Chase, why are we at the cemetery?"
"I think you know," Chase said, stopping the car. He got out and crossed over to her door. He opened it for her, offering his hand. She hesitated, but after a few moments, finally accepted. She brought the flowers with her, now she knew they weren't just for her.
They walked over to the gravestone in silence, and she put the flowers on the ground. She ran her fingers over the letters, tears welling in her eyes. Cameron. There was space next to his name for hers. At the time, she'd wanted to be buried with him. It had been too much, losing him, falling for Joe. She touched the inscription she'd had engraved. Loving husband and friend. The words didn't do him justice. He had been so much more.
After a while, Chase touched her shoulder gently. She took his hand and got to her feet. She stepped into his arms, holding onto him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for making me come. It's been a long time."
"Five years?" Chase asked, but there was no accusation in it, only understanding.
She nodded. "I couldn't come. I couldn't face him."
"Because of how you felt about Joe?"
"Yes." Her voice sounded small even to her ears.
"Cameron," Chase began, lifting her chin up to face him. "You were alone and scared. Your husband had just died. All you had was Joe. I didn't know your husband, but if he was worthy of your love, he would understand. He might not be happy, but I think that he would understand."
"Could you?" She asked.
Chase looked at her. "I wouldn't be happy. But I love you, Cameron. That hasn't changed, wouldn't change."
"I love you, Chase," she said, holding onto him. She started to bury her head, but Chase stopped her, lowering his head down for a gentle kiss.
He wrapped an arm around her waist. "Would you tell me about him?"
She nodded and told Chase how she'd met her husband, how he'd charmed her every time they met, and the trick he'd played on her when he introduced her to Joe. She laughed and cried; even the happiest of memories was bittersweet.
"Allison?" Joe asked, and Cameron turned to see him and Lauren walking towards the grave. "I thought that was you."
"Joe?" Cameron asked. "What are you—I mean, I'm sorry, I—"
"It's okay," he smiled. "I come here once a month. Lauren's been coming with me for the past four. It's good to see you."
She smiled. "It's good to see you, too, Joe."
"I have something for you," he said, handing her an envelope. She took it, frowning. "It's an invitation to our wedding, Allison."
"Your wedding?"
Joe nodded. "You were right. Lauren is the best thing that ever happened to me. I hope you'll come. Both of you."
Cameron watched Joe and Lauren walk away and then opened the envelope. You are invited to celebrate with us as we join our love and lives together. Joseph Aaron Stanton and Lauren Rachel Dawson. It was an ordinary wedding invitation, except whom it was addressed to.
Allison Cameron and Robert Chase.
"He knew," she said softly. She looked up at Chase. "He knew I would be with you."
"Are you okay, Cam—Allison?" Chase asked, looking at her in concern.
"I'm fine," she told him. And she really was. She took Chase's hand in hers and smiled up at him. "So, this is a date, right?"
"I hear there's a good Italian restaurant a couple of blocks up," Chase began.
"I must be a mess," she said, reaching up to fix her hair.
"You look beautiful just the way you are," he told her.
She reached up and kissed him. She could not be more grateful to Chase. He had brought her here, and he had given her the chance to lie to rest her fears. The ghosts of the past were at peace. She could finally look to the future.