Chapter 12: The Past, The Present, The Future

Alice was used to people barging in on her restaurant right before closing. So when she began to wipe down tables and the door jingled open, she just shook her head and turned to greet her late night customer.

House stared at her, eyes wide and almost confused.

"You look like you need a drink." Alice disappeared into the back and returned with the freshly made batch of coffee that she had started a little while ago. A shot of brandy and she handed it to House.

He took it gratefully and hobbled over to a chair, sitting down and letting his shoulders slump.

"Do I want to know?"

"Cameron – she showed me some of her scars." He used some because there were more – that at least he was sure of.

"Oh." Alice offered him the bottle of brandy. "I assume you weren't expecting that?"

"I knew she was broken. I just didn't think she was as broken as me."

"An oddly sentimental statement from the misanthropic doctor."

"We'd been drinking already." Alice nodded in understanding.

"Am I to guess that you got scared and ran?"

"I kissed her for god sake. In the middle of the restaurant. What else was I supposed to do?"

Alice sighed.

"Why is it that men are so stupid?"

"That's rhetorical, right?" House questioned back. "Men are pigs. And they will never grow up. Or something to that extent."

"Allie was opening up to you. Maybe not at the best time or place, but she was testing you."

"And let me guess. I failed."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Raymond didn't act to well either."

"Raymond?"

"Allie's husband."

House nodded. "The dead one."

Alice frowned at him. "Yes."

"What did he do?"

"Proposed."

"Was that what I was supposed to do? Pop the question?"

"If you had she would've smacked you. As it was Ray received a death glare until it turned out that he was serious. She said no. But he just kept pushing and pushing. Finally Allie said yes. She wasn't ready to get married, but it was a dying mans last request. And she loved him to much to turn that down."

She hadn't wanted to get married? House didn't know what to say to that. Wasn't marriage every little girl's dream? Although, he was finding out that Allison Jane hadn't been like most other girls. That was probably because she hadn't grown up in an environment that fostered those kinds of thoughts. From the scars he had seen, the houses that she had been in hadn't been happy ones.

"Well, what was I supposed to do then apologize? Start having sex on top of the table?"

"Or sit down and finish eating?" Wilson's voice was dry. "The apology would've come across wrong and I think that you would've been arrested for public indecency. I could use some of that brandy you're holding, if you're offering, Alice."

"And sitting down and finishing eating is better then apologizing, how?" House questioned.

"Well, at least that way you weren't running scared."

"Thanks Wilson. I can see that your three marriages have really been helpful in understanding what women want." Alice ignored both of them.

"Tina went to go get AJ, and sent you to do damage control?" Alice went to go get another cup of coffee and Wilson followed. "You think that after all these years the girl would learn not to meddle."

"It's what she does Alice." Cameron's voice sounded as the door opened.

James appeared back at the table a moment later, holding two cups of coffee while Alice carried a third. He met Allison's eyes hesitantly. She shrugged one shoulder and scrunched up her nose.

Tina meddled, Jimmy meddled. It was what they did and she had long ago accepted it as a fact. It didn't mean she liked it, it just meant that it was a fact.

"I love you," Wilson teased sweetly, trying to draw out a smile.

"No you don't, I hate you." House was watching her as she pouted childishly and Wilson laughed.

"Okay Allie, if you say so."

"I do. And I know all."

"Psychic again?" Tina mused.

"Yep."

"What am I thinking?" Tina had grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down five questions. Allison smirked.

"Comb, moon, orange, no way and go to hell." Wilson leaned over and scanned the list of questions that Tina wrote. He smiled, amused when all of the answers made sense.

"And how long have you been pulling that trick?" House finally found his voice.

It was Tina who replied, as Allison was studiously not looking at him. "Years. Party tricks for the younger cousins." She leaned over and pulled a quarter out of Houses' ear with a smirk.

"Must be weird at family reunions."

"It's always weird at family reunions. But that's just because we're weird."

"Thanks Tina." Cameron was holding her coffee in her hands, but didn't take a sip. She set it down instead and disappeared into the back. Tina stared pointedly at Greg until he sighed, stood up and shuffled back into the kitchen.

These conversations usually involved him putting his foot in his mouth and someone who wasn't him in tears. Always. No matter the person the situation never changed.

"I'm not good at this," he stated, watching her. When she turned around, House was surprised. Cameron's face was completely dry.

"I didn't come back here to talk House. You suck at talking. But I wanted hot chocolate instead of coffee."

House raised an eyebrow. Coffee was good, alcohol was better and even tea would have been acceptable. But, hot chocolate?

"It's something that I used to do for Jake. Something my first foster parents did for me. And later on something my mom did. It's a comfort drink."

"When did your mom die?"

Cameron blinked at him. "My mother is very much alive right now, and I beg you not to jinx that, thank you very much." To make her point clear she leaned over and knocked on the wooden counter top.

"On our – date – you said that the earrings you were wearing were your mothers – I just assumed -"

"The earrings I was wearing were a gift from my birth mother before I was taken away and put up for adoption. I was – I am told – with her for a grand total of fifteen minutes. My first social worker put them in a lock box to be given to me when I turned eighteen. It's all I have left of her. And even though I never want anything to do with the woman who gave birth to me, they do have a sentimental value. They're the one thing that I have from my childhood."

"So when I asked you about your earrings…."

"What was I supposed to say? Thank you, I'm glad that you like them, they're the only thing I have of my birth mothers and in turn the only thing I have from my childhood. It was not a conversation I wanted to have with you. It's not a conversation I want to have with you now."

"Then why'd you even bring it up?"

"I didn't. You asked when my mother died. And my mother, one of the few people in my life who loves and cares about me, and loved and cared about me before I even acknowledged that people could love has the right to be known as alive. Also, I don't want the misconception that the woman who gave me up was also the one who raised me."

"Have you ever had any contact with your birth mother?" House couldn't help but by surprised by the raw anger in her tone. Allison Cameron loved everyone.

"Never. All I know is that her name is Cynthia. Her initials are CAJ, which is why my name is Allison Jane."

"Funny that yours ended up being AJC."

Cameron's mouth twisted up awkwardly. "If that's the way you want to phrase it, go right ahead. But, I don't really think that there's anything funny about it."

The tea kettle whistled and Cameron turned to tend to it, studiously ignoring House once again.

She pulled out hot chocolate mix, marshmallows, whipped cream, milk and a blue and white snowman mug from a cabinet and set it on the table.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Cameron mixed her concoction together and stared at him. "What else is there?"

"I kissed you."

"Today is a day that ends in the letter 'y'."

"Actually, I kissed you twice."

"The United States has 50 states."

"Why aren't you reacting?"

"Why are you asking me stupid questions?" Cameron replied without skipping a beat. She took a dainty sip of her hot chocolate. "I thought we were just having a state the obvious contest. I know you kissed me. Twice. You know I know. I know you know I know you know. Or something like that. What I want to know is why we're still talking about it?"

"What if I wanted to do it again?"

"And why would you want that House? The first time you wanted me to come back without the needle. The second time you left."

"Maybe third time is the charm."

"I don't think so. Not tonight anyway."

"Isn't tonight a perfect time?" He was advancing on her again and Cameron turned to stare at him, the word 'don't' on her lips.

"I'm not going to kiss you House. But I will tell you something." He paused in his advance and cocked his head to the side, waiting.

Cameron grabbed another cup and made hot chocolate for House as well as he impatiently tapped his cane.

"I met Jacob when I was six. He was two. We were being fostered by the Stevenson's. I walked into the house with my social worker and Jacob streaked by butt naked and screaming at the top of his lungs. He crashed right into me. I picked him up – and he just stopped and looked at me. They joked it was love at first sight. After that we were inseparable. Every foster home we went into, we went into together. And if we didn't there was hell. I was the only one who could Jake to fall asleep. I used to sing 'Hey Jude' to him, using his name every night. I was the only way he would go to bed." Her face the night of the white tie auction suddenly flashed through his mind, and the reaming that she had gotten from Cuddy was no longer as funny as it had been. "When I was eight and Jake was four we were placed with Ron and Linda. The abuse was extreme, but we were the type of kids who fell through the cracks. It went on for two years." Her hands were shaking and tears were falling. There was a catch in her throat. House didn't know what to do. "Ron called us down one night – wasted. I thought that we might be able to wait until he passed out, but he was insistent that we come downstairs."

He knew that he didn't want to hear the ending to this story. Because there was no happy ending. That at least he was sure of. Cameron handed him the hot chocolate and took a sip of hers, not flinching when it burned her throat on the way down.

"Ron had pulled out his gun. But I thought that he was just threatening us, like he always did." Years of therapy had convinced her that not getting Jake out of the way in time wasn't her fault, but when she re-told the story (which was very seldom) there was always a trace of disgust. She couldn't help it. "He shot me once in the leg, and he shot Jake four times. It was the second bullet that killed him. Linda was killed as well before Ron killed himself." A sob made its way out from deep in her throat. "I survived for some reason. I don't know why…." She trailed off and shook her head.

"I went from home to home after that for three years, and went back almost immediately after each one. No one could control me. Then, they placed me in a home, and the mom – well, she tried to touch me. One of the younger kids called DCFS because I was screaming bloody murder. They removed all of the kids immediately, because it wasn't the first complaint. I wasn't doing well in group homes at all – the older kids were torturing me because I was so small for my age but had such an attitude. They did an emergency placement of me with a new couple who had only fostered a few times. It wasn't supposed to stick, I was supposed to leave as soon as they found a different home. I walked into the Cameron's house and Heather was waiting for me with Teddy balanced on her hip. He stared at me – he was only three – and asked why I had bwue hail."

Cameron paused to take a deep breath and then stopped. She had just spilled a very small but very important portion of her life story to House. And for some reason he was still standing in the kitchen with her.

"What'd you say?"

"What?"

"When your brother asked why you had bwue hail – which I'm assuming is blue hair?"

Cameron couldn't help the small noise that escaped her throat. It was somewhere between a sob, a snort, and a laugh. "I burst into tears and Ross walked into the foyer in his pajamas, having just been woken up to come and greet me into his home, and just held out his arms. I don't know why I did, to this day, but I ran into them and hugged him. I hadn't voluntarily let anyone hug me since Jake died in my arms. My social worker about kneeled over and had a heart attack. Whenever anyone touched me I screamed bloody murder whether it was gentle or not. I still jump when someone grabs me unexpectedly."

House nodded. He had seen the look on her face when he held her arm in his hands. "And your back?"

"My back?"

"The first time Wilson and I stayed at your apartment. You had old scars on your back. Most from a thin belt or a horse whip." Cameron's' face still showed mistrust, so House set down his hot chocolate. He shrugged off three layers of shirts and turned his back to her. The lines that she had been so used to seeing on her back were mirrored on his. There was no gasp from her, just a muffled sigh of someone who had felt the same pain, and a gentle, but icy cold hand, on his back.

"My father's second favorite form of discipline was a good whipping."

"And the first?"

"Outside in the winter, no food, little clothes."

Cameron mimicked House, and stripped off her shirt, sweatshirt and coat as well, until she was standing in just her bra. House got a better look at her back before she held up her hands and House looked closely, noting all the scars on her hands that he had never gotten close enough to see.

"Ron was fond of the hands over the stove method. As well as the feet. And any other body parts. He burned almost all of my hair off once."

House used a gentle finger to trace the scar that was on her heart line – the one that Tina matched.

A slight turn and House was pointing at a scar on the back of his neck, right to the left of the top of his spine. It was a thin white line that traced up to his ear.

"Beer bottle at the head when I was eight."

Cameron smiled and turned, lifting her hair to show a scar lower then his, almost on her shoulder. "Wine bottle at the back when I was nine. I'm pretty sure he was aiming for my head, but when you're drunk – well, it doesn't always work out that way."

House sat down and lifted his leg onto a chair with a grimace. He rolled up his pant leg until his shin was visible. "Dogs at the base camps weren't to be played with. Or so my dad told me, but he watched as one of them lost it on me. Waited until I got bit before he stepped in to stop them."

"You saw my dog scars already," Cameron replied. She bent to grab her shirt, but House gently stopped her. His hand spun her gently around and took note of the mess that was her back.

"That night at the benefit-" he trailed off and shook his head.

Cameron craned her neck to look at him. "What?"

"Your back didn't look like it does now."

"The lights were dimmer most of the night. I had Tina come over and work some make-up magic. Not a lot, because these kind of scars are almost impossible to hide. But, with a few tricks, some glitter to make me sparkle a tad and the lights, anyone who saw it thought it was a trick of light or they had had too much to drink."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you cover up your scars?"

"Why won't you let anyone see your leg?" It seemed rhetorical, because Cameron answered herself. "Pity. I'm broken House, I'm broken and damaged and scared. And no matter how many times my mother told me that I wasn't any of those things, I am. And I don't want people to feel bad for poor Dr. Cameron who went through the system and out a bloody mess. I'm not so good at deflecting with jokes, so I deflect by not telling people about my past."

'"And lying."

"When did I lie?" Cameron demanded.

"I asked you who abused you. You said that it wasn't fami-"

"Who said that I considered the people who beat me time and time again family?" Her voice was getting heated now.

House was about to ask her what she considered them, but Tina walked into the kitchen with Wilson and Alice.

"Children, please, keep your voices down if you're trying to have a private conversation. And put shirts on."

Cameron flushed slightly and pulled her shirt hastily over her head, while House took his time. Wilson had seen his back before, and he had no doubts that Tina and Alice had seen Cameron's. There was nothing for them to be surprised about. Everyone had scars.

"Can you two talk like civilized adults, or do you need a referee?" Alice asked in a patronizing tone.

"We're done talking Alice, it doesn't matter."

And this time it was Cameron who left House standing in the middle of a restaurant.