Author´s Note: Author: ksyd
Rated: M
Pairing: a little Cameron/House
Summary: Rubbing her right shoulder blade, feeling the scarring line that wetted her soft skin with the letter "J", she got up and packed her things, forgetting to take the invitation with her.
Author's Note: I do not own House, M.D or Hugh Laure or Jennifer Morrison or…or…
Chapter Three
Letting out a painful cry and sitting up on her coach, Cameron found herself back in to the reality, leaving her nightmares behind. Within seconds she manages to turn on all her lamps, frantically trying to banish all the darkness that is enclosing her apartment. Running her shivering hands trough her wasted brown hair, leaning her forehead against the mirror in her bathroom, she is too afraid to look at herself. She always thanked God that the reminding scar Jared left is on her shoulder bone, almost unseen to her. But right now, it´s almost as if she could feel the cool top of the knife, cutting slowly into her soft flesh, leaving trails of blood. Losing the rest of her strengths, Allison Cameron collapses on the floor, quietly crying. Hours later, escorted by the morning sun, she finally comforts herself into the leftover pieces of a safety.
She is late. Too late. Again. Yesterday, she stepped way after midday to the work, looking sleepy and somewhat ill. Greg House is banging, unnoticed to himself, his cane in to the blue carpet, the fleecy fabric catching the sound of it. Slowly he was getting anxious about Dr. Cameron. She´s not the person how would come late, two days in a row, without leaving a message. And, after all, the whole being late thing was his territory, right? He didn´t need an enemy at this. He would have to make that clear to the young doctor. Having made this decision he catches his coat, leaving his office.
It´s not going away, he is not going way, regardless how hard she tries to ignore him and his knocking cane. Pulling the white Pillow over her dizzy head, Cameron tries unsuccessful to escape the peeving sound coming from her front door.
"Cameron! I know you´re there! Your car is standing outside, and your Neighbor said that you haven´t leave yet. He´s a little bit curios, hu?" He leans is ear on the door, barely hearing her answer.
"Go away, House. Not feeling very well. Headache. I take a day off, kay?" Every word caused her tortured head a new wave of pain, leaving her even more nerveless.
"Great! I´m a doctor, you know? Give me a look. I could prescribe you something."
"No."
House was getting short-tempered. Headache! Ha! He didn´t believe her. A Headache was never a reason for Allison Cameron to take a day off. No no, there was something more to it; the never stopping curiosity in him could smell it. And he wanted to know what it was. Now.
"Open the door! Don´t make me angry, or I have to tell Cuddy that you are trying to escape your clinic duty. I do that; trust me, I´m that yucky!"
"Please, just go away." Her voice gets angrier, letting House grin.
"Want some of my Vicodin?"
Now he could hear soft footsteps, coming toward the door. Slowly open the door a little, immediately leaning against the doorframe to stop the spinning, Allison Cameron is facing Greg House.
"My…" House blinks his eyes, making sure that it was the young immunologist standing right before him. He never thought that one single night could chance the appearance of somebody that badly. Cameron just proved him wrong. The color of her face was meeting with the white of her way to big sweater. Her hair is ragged and her eyes surrounded by dark, almost black curls.
"Told you that Im not feeling good. Now, go and leave me alone." Her words almost a whisper, her eyes fighting to stay open, Cameron couldn´t say more.
"You look like creep, you know that, right?" Was that worry in his voice?
"Thanks. Now, just go. See you tomorrow." Turning around a little, her sweater is slipping a little down and leaving her right shoulder bare, giving House a good look. Before Cameron even could react and cover her shoulder up again, she feels a warm hand on her upper arm, grapping her tight.
"What the fuck is that?" He can´t believe what he is seeing. A large scar, almost as big as his hand, looking startling like a "J".
Before he could say more, Cameron frees from his clutch, shut´s the door and leaves him completely haggard, speaking last words through the closed door.
"If you ever touch me again like this, I will kill you."
Sitting in his office chair, listening to his iPod, House remembers his last encounter with Cameron. Her appearance had frightened him more than he would admit in the first place. But after seeing that awful scar, he couldn´t ignore his angst anymore. It´s the forms of that scar that freaks him out the most. There was no way that an accident could have caused this. No. It was made by a person, no doubt. He shivers a little, hearing her last words in his mind.
"If you ever touch me again like this, I will kill you."
He believes her. She meant every word of it.
The puzzle called Allison Cameron was becoming even more difficult for House. More…frightening. Looking at his table the invitation from her High School catches is eyes. "Milborne High School" the title says. He was getting a feeling. Maybe that whole invitation thing was more important than he first thought. Cause looking back, it all started the minute Cameron received it. Sometimes the smallest and unimportant things are turning out to be the key.
Limping to his computer without his cane, starting the explorer and typing the name of Cameron´s High School into the Google, he quickly finds the Website of the school. Clicking through the site he finally finds what he was looking for. A site about the upcoming reunion, a list of all the people that had visited that year. Some even with pictures. House was almost disappointed that there was no photo of the young Allison Cameron. Could´ve been interesting. Scrolling down he found somewhat of a memento to the already deceased class members.
And while looking at the pictures, House is not aware that he misses something. That he, the Master of being able to see the smallest and weirdest connections, is overseeing a big lead. Maybe it was because this time, it was beginning to get personal for him. He was losing his objectivity.
He didn´t pay attention to the picture of a certain Jared Carter, smiling warmly, a strand of his blond hair falling in to his blue eyes. He didn´t read the words under the picture. The same words Jared Carter wrote in the yearbook.
"Allison, maybe next time we can get our Date. Nobody knows what the future is holding. I look forward to see you again someday. You never know how much."