Update is here, a little sooner than I'd expected, which is always a good thing :)
As usual: I don't own House or Cameron unfortunately...you know what they'd be doing by now if I did! :P
And MSWord and won't agree as to whether 'unthought-of' is a word or not.
So I'm saying it is whilst those two kids battle it out :P

Enjoy!
R&R please! Muchos appreciated!

Peace & Cheers
Amylia
-x-

What If

Chapter Six – Drowning on Dry Land


When House opened the door, he wondered if he'd taken a few too many Vicodin and had started to hallucinate. On his doorstep, eyes red and tears staining her cheeks, a distressed child on her hip and a carry-chair in one hand, was Cameron. The permanent scowl on his face deepened as he took in her appearance. What the hell had happened after he'd left her house?

Stepping away from the door, he contained his endless curiosity for a few moments and let her in. She gratefully accepted the gesture and stood awkwardly in the middle of his living room, not really knowing what to say.

"Wanna start by telling me what that asshole did to you?"

Cameron didn't react like House had partly expected her to. He expected her to jump to her husband's defense and say it was in fact House's fault she'd been crying, not Andrew's. But she didn't.

"He slept with my sister."

That was enough to silence him and he hoped he wasn't gaping. He'd never seen Cameron's sister but he was certain that if he'd been the one to marry the woman currently stood in front of him, there'd be no way he'd even be tempted to be unfaithful…especially not with her sister. That was low, even by House's standards.

"Do you want a drink?"

He didn't really know what to say to smooth over the now-uneasy atmosphere around them. He wasn't good at being caring or supportive or any of the things she needed right now.

"Just water, please."

She replied, sitting down on the sofa with her daughter on her knee. The child was now drifting off to sleep in her mother's arms and sucking her thumb, blissfully unaware of what was going on. Cameron stared absently at the blank television screen, wondering what the hell she was going to do now that her marriage was in tatters.

House glanced back at her from the kitchen, noting the way her shoulders had dropped, as though the weight of the world was now on them. That spark in her he'd been so attracted to was fast fading and he couldn't bear to see it go out. The child in her arms was asleep and he saw her look down at her, tears once again starting to slide down her cheeks. She looked so…broken.

He'd felt the sting of being cheated on before, but it wasn't even an ounce of what he was sure she was feeling. In college, he'd walked in and caught his girlfriend in bed with one of the male cheerleaders. That had been a real blow to his ego. But he hadn't been married to her for nearly ten years and he certainly hadn't had a child with her. Those aspects of Cameron's situation were going to make it much harder and much more complicated.

Slowly making his way back into the living room, he handed her the glass of water, sitting down at the other end of the sofa and studying her carefully. She thanked him and accepted the drink, taking a sip before placing it down on the coffee table. After a few endless moments of silence between them, she chanced a glance and caught the flicker of concern in his eyes. But it was such a fleeting emotion she wasn't sure she'd seen it in the first place. House didn't do concern. And she'd been sure he'd be more than happy about this rift between her and Andrew now...although that rift was more like a canyon.

"He accused me of having an affair with you."

She began to explain, her voice quiet and dignified despite the grief it was causing her. She paused for a moment, settling Elle into her carry-cot before turning back to House.

"He was convinced we've been sleeping together. I tried to tell him he was being ridiculous but he wouldn't listen to me. I…I've never been scared of him before, but for a split second I was. I was scared by how he just blew up."

The emotions were choking her and he desperately wished he had the aptitude to reach out to her. Instead he just sat deadly still, his eyes never wavering from her face as she tried to maintain her composure and not break down completely before him.

"I guess…he just wanted to hurt me like this whole…whatever it is between us hurt him. So he dropped that bombshell. I'd…"

Her voice hitched and she wiped away the tears falling from her eyes, taking a deep breath and steadying her voice before she managed to continue.

"I'd never suspected anything. We've been married nearly ten years and I'd never even had a suspicion that he'd cheated. I mean, I don't know when he did it…it could have been last month or it could have been eight years ago. I didn't hang around to find out."

Her whole body was trembling and House could tell she was trying very hard to reign in all the feelings currently torturing her. He finally managed to reach out and for a moment his hand hovered over her shoulder, before he gave it a supportive squeeze, not really knowing how else he could help her.

"He doesn't know what he's lost."

He said quietly, half to himself and half to her. Eyes shining with tears, she looked up at him and sniffled a little.

"Could I…could we…crash here, just for one night? I'll take the sofa; I just can't go back to him tonight. I can't face him yet."

He wondered why any other option hadn't occurred to him before. As soon as she'd told him what had happened he'd assumed she was staying. It wasn't like she had any family in Princeton, and he wasn't so cold-hearted that he'd have her book into a hotel on her own in her state, with a small child to look after too. And so far the kid hadn't made a sound, so House didn't mind her presence either. If she started squawking…well, that was another matter.

"You can take my room; I'll sleep on the sofa."

He offered and it seemed to take her utterly by surprise. Then again, he'd surprised himself with that gentlemanly suggestion too. God, what was she turning him into?

"I don't want to impose, House-"

"It's kinda my fault that this has happened anyway, Cameron, so just take my room, okay?"

He looked away from her, feeling the words weighing down on both of them as soon as they left his lips. If he hadn't kissed her - twice - and if he hadn't gone to her home…none of these revelations would have unraveled. But was that a good thing or a bad thing? Wouldn't she rather have found all of this out now than go on another ten years with a husband who was cheating on her with her own sister? It also made him wonder what kind of person her sister could be if she was doing that. Clearly they weren't that close.

-----------------

He wondered absently if he could carry on calling her Cameron. Clearly, it was her married name so…what now? As he thought more about it, he realized he didn't know what her name was before she'd become a Cameron. And he wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask. But did he usually care if questions were appropriate or not?

"Hey."

He said, a little discomfited as he stepped into the kitchen where Cameron was preparing Elle's bottle. She looked up and managed a small smile.

"Hey."

She replied, carefully measuring out the baby formula and testing the temperature against her wrist. He was somewhat fascinated by it, never having really witnessed her maternal side. All he saw of her on a day-to-day basis was the dedicated and brilliant young doctor supplying diagnosis after diagnosis and helping people in need. He never saw the other half of her life, the devoted and loving mother she so undoubtedly was. For a moment his questions about her name had been forgotten as he watched her trying to continue her daughter's routine amongst the ruins of what their life had been.

Once Elle had the bottle and had fallen back to sleep, Cameron began to help House set up the sheets on the sofa. They fell into an easy kind of team-work, exchanging quick glances here and there.

"So, what were you called before you married him?"

House asked, not bothering to wrap it up in false niceties. She faltered a moment before handing him the final pillow.

"Hamilton. Allison Hamilton."

She sat down with a melancholy kind of weariness on the edge of the sofa and he could sense she was opening up. It unnerved him a little – he wasn't good with opening up – but he sat down at the opposite end of the sofa nevertheless.

"I've got two sisters and a brother…Jennifer and Christian are older than me, and I know Jen would never…my younger sister, Abbie…we never got along."

House understood clearly what she was meaning, though it was obvious that thinking Abbie and Andrew could break her trust so cruelly was painful for her to accept.

"Do you…want me to carry on calling you Cameron, or…?"

He didn't know what to suggest. He couldn't see himself calling her Hamilton. It was too bizarre. She looked up at him, a stricken expression on her face and he wished he hadn't asked. She clearly hadn't thought about that aspect. But after a moment, her features softened and she gave him a small, thankful smile, as though just the fact that it had occurred to him to ask had touched her somehow.

"Just call me Allison."

She said softly, wondering what was going to become of her marriage and, if it really was the end, how she could just slip back to being "Allison Hamilton", as though none of it had ever happened. House hesitated as he regarded her carefully. He'd never called her by her first name, other than once and even that was only in a sarcastic undertone.

"I should…get some sleep. Maybe I'll be able to see a little more clearly tomorrow."

She stood up and began to walk toward his bedroom and he was left watching her go, wondering how it could be that just a few days ago all this chaos was completely unthoughtof. One kiss had triggered so many chain reactions it was hard to believe.

"House, do you have…um…" she seemed a little uncertain about asking, "A t-shirt or something? I didn't bring anything with me, I just ran out of the house."

He nodded, hauling himself to his feet and limping heavily past her into his bedroom, heading for the closet and pulling out the first t-shirt he put his hand on. As he turned and handed it to her, he was struck by the image he'd had when he'd seen her wearing her husband's shirt, his eyes clouding with desire as she took hold of the t-shirt and looked up to meet his gaze. Neither of them moved for a moment, the electricity between them almost sparking to life with the blue t-shirt held between them like a connection wire they could both feel the heat through.

"Thanks…"

She snapped back to reality in a split second and quickly turned, clearly not wanting anything happening that would really mean the end for her marriage. She wasn't quite ready to accept it yet, and with his bed less than a meter from them, if he kissed her…she wasn't sure how they would end up tonight. And with Elle asleep on the other side of the room…she was doing her utmost to put space between them. It was best for both of them this way.

"Don't mention it."

He muttered as he headed back to the living room, trying to shake the image now stuck in his head. How the hell was he going to sleep with her in the next room, wearing his t-shirt? It had to be some higher power's idea of torture; punishment for setting of the chain reaction leading to the demise of her marriage.

-----------------

Lying in his bed felt beyond strange…wrong somehow. But at the same time, it felt right, like she was supposed to be here. Maybe the tipping point was that crazy notion she'd never been able to fully shake, that she wanted him more than a married woman should, even though it had stayed well-hidden (or so she thought) in her preconscious. Maybe that's why she had so many doubts about trying to save her tattered marriage. Or maybe that was because her loving husband had slept with her wayward younger sister. She was about as opposite to Abbie as humanely possible…and it hurt that Andrew had been drawn to that.

Turning onto her stomach, she gave a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, chasing sleep whilst too many thoughts racing through her mind forced her to hang onto consciousness. What was the point in running through the fire when there was nothing left to save? Nothing was going to convince Andrew that she hadn't slept with House, she couldn't prove her innocence, and she wasn't sure she could forgive him for what he'd done to contribute to their current state.

Leaning over the side of the bed, she checked on Elle, who was still sleeping soundly in her carry-cot. Watching her daughter sleeping so peacefully brought tears to her eyes. She was thanking God now that she hadn't gotten pregnant again like Andrew had wanted, though a knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach thinking about it. She couldn't imagine having the strength in her to walk away from him if she was carrying his child. Turning restlessly onto her back again, a hand absently trailing to her stomach, she frowned and shook her head.

The painful thing was; she did still love him. She'd heard people claim, "I just woke up one day and didn't love him anymore," but she wasn't sure that was possible. They'd been married almost ten years, they had a child together…she couldn't just switch off her feelings for him because he broke her heart. But going back would just mean playing the game, pretending nothing had happened, and trying to function in the ruins of what they'd been left with. That wouldn't be good for either of them, and it would inevitably lead to them resenting one another (more than they already did).

She wondered if there'd been signs, if she'd been too blind and too naïve to even notice the writing on the wall. How long had it been going on between Andrew and Abbie? Was it more than once or a one-night stand? It made her feel sick thinking of either option. Was Andrew so deeply unhappy in their marriage that he'd actively pursued Abbie? She wasn't likely to refuse – not if it meant she could take away something of the sister she'd always been jealous and resentful of – so it was entirely possible.

Before she realized it, hot tears were sliding down her cheeks, sobs burning her throat. How the hell did they wind up like this?

-----------------

"Mornin'…wow you look like crap."

House did a double take as she emerged from his bedroom. As much as he could barely take his eyes off her long legs, endless in his blue t-shirt and taunting him so early in a morning, he could tell she wasn't good. She was deathly pale and looked like she was going to either pass out or throw up at any given second.

"Thanks, House. Really appreciate that," she snapped, shooting a glare at him, "If it's any consolation, I feel like crap."

Lying stretched out on the sofa; he watched her move to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, steadying herself on the counter. He took the opportunity to really take in the sight of her, barefoot and wearing the over-sized t-shirt as well as a pair of his shorts – he momentarily wondered where she'd found them – as she put the kettle on and got him a coffee ready. It was amazing to him how she adapted so well to wherever she was. And he was more than pleased that she felt comfortable enough to pad through his apartment wearing his clothes. He wondered if she was aware of the effect it had on him.

"Did you dose my water last night or something?"

She accused lightly as she handed him the coffee and accepted the seat he offered when he shifted his legs from the sofa, trying not to wince and activate her care-bear nature. Elle began to whine in the bedroom and she immediately got up again, disappearing for a moment before returning with the child on her hip. He couldn't quite shake the small part in his brain saying, "I want this all to be mine," as he watched her with her daughter sitting next to him on the sofa.

"Well I'm glad the sprog didn't scream the place down at stupid o'clock, 'cause you wouldn't be staying again if she had."

He commented, contradicting what his mind was saying and trying to battle them out of his head. She looked up at him and it was almost as though she could read his thoughts, the flicker of a smile on her lips, before it was gone again in an instant.

"She's 18 months old, House. She's been sleeping through for quite a while now."

She informed him, wondering if his words were a round-about way of him saying he wanted her to stay again. She didn't doubt that at all, after what had happened between them already. It was perfectly clear he wanted her; even she wasn't naïve or innocent enough to believe otherwise. When nothing more was said for a few endless minutes, the unspoken desire they knew was between them making the most subtle movement awkward, Cameron shifted uncomfortably.

"I should probably get dressed and… go talk to Andrew. We need to work this out…"

As she stood up and settled Elle into the corner of the sofa, happily playing with the remote that House was quite openly eying, she felt the world spin and grabbed onto the arm of the sofa. House's eyes shot up to her and he frowned, studying her carefully.

"What's going on with you?"

He asked; half a demand and half concern lacing his voice, though he did well to hide the latter. She took a deep breath and shook her head, forcing a smile to try and evade his questioning. But even she wasn't foolish enough to think she'd get away without an interrogation.

"I'm…fine."

"Yeah, you look it," he replied sarcastically, keeping a level gaze on her, "you've practically passed out or thrown up twice already – I can't tell which but I'd rather you warned me either way; you look like death barely warmed up and you haven't touched the coffee since you got here. The Cameron I know would have almost cleared me out by now. So stop jerking about and tell me what it is."

She looked as though she was struggling with what he was asking for a moment, before she visibly deflated before his eyes, her shoulders and eyes dropping and a weary hand running across her face before she found the strength to look at him again.

"I…I'm two weeks late."

She said quietly, fighting the choking feeling clogging the back of her throat. She hadn't even wanted to consider the possibility that she could be…no. It wasn't that. She refused to accept it. She couldn't be…not right now, not with the tattered ribbons of her marriage hanging by threads. And the horrible thought had occurred to her in passing the night before. Did she really have the strength to leave Andrew for good…if she was carrying his child?

"Well, have you taken a test?"

He asked, all emotion void from his voice, as though he was talking to some dumb young girl who'd wandered, terrified, into the free clinic. Cameron sighed, shaking her head. It had only been two weeks after all. And her pregnancy with Elle had knocked her regular cycle all off kilter. She'd kept blaming that in her preconscious every time her mind had doubted it for the past two weeks. She hadn't seriously thought about it as a real possibility. After all, they'd always been careful and she was on the pill. OK, so she'd skipped out on a few once or twice…the doctor in her chastised her for being so irresponsible.

"I should…take a test. Oh God…"

The panic in her voice made House break the steady, unwavering gaze he'd kept trained on her and she covered her face with her hands, sinking back down onto the sofa.

-----------------

Sitting on the side of his bath and staring at the home pregnancy test, Cameron could feel the anxiety twisting inside her. She'd actually resorted to praying now, as she closed her eyes and waited for the compulsory five minutes. It was perhaps the longest five minutes of her life and she felt like she was going to throw up just from the anxiety of not knowing.

Her heart was racing and it felt like she had a swarm of butterflies on speed going ten-to-the-dozen in her stomach as the seconds passed by. After five minutes she convinced herself to open her eyes and stared down at the little stick in her hands…

A.N: Don't worry guys, stick with it, it's not gonna end up one of those "oh, she's pregnant!" fics. This is just a little twist I'm working on :P