What If

Chapter Eight – Healing Comes So Painfully


After slamming the door behind her, all the neighbours watching with unconcealed intrigue as the marriage they'd all thought was perfect crashed down with such ferocity, all Cameron wanted to do was drive. She didn't know where, she just needed space. It was suffocating her. But driving in the state she was in probably wasn't the best idea, so instead she sat behind the wheel, staring out of the windscreen vacantly.

After a while, she glanced up at the house to see Abbie appearing from the front door, slipping out and glancing around as she pulled on her jacket. Cameron watched her, feeling nothing as Abbie's eyes caught hers and she stopped dead, clearly unsure of what to do. Cameron couldn't tell what was going through her sister's mind – but she never really had been able to – and with a small quirk of her lips Abbie was gone, slipping into her car and slamming down her accelerator. Cameron was left watching the dust settle whilst Abbie's car disappeared down the street. It was ironic how well it suited their relationship, Cameron thought bitterly. Abbie kicked up dust and she was left watching it settle around her, ready to brush it up and carry on with her life.

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After she'd gone, House had watched Elle playing; wondering what was stopping him from wanting all that: the beautiful wife (like a certain stunning immunologist whom he couldn't stop thinking about), 2.5 children and the white picket fences. He'd never wanted it though, had always kicked out against such conformist, traditional values. It was too false, in his eyes. Everybody lied, and when you tied two people together with that thing called love, everything would crumble when one of them eventually strayed.

He couldn't open up enough to let her in. Part of him was terrified at the idea that she could so easily break him if he let her too close, and part of him was scared he'd break her just the same. He thought back on how much Stacy had changed in their five years together. She'd never been naïve, because she was a lawyer after all. But after a few years with House, she'd certainly hardened up a lot, she was more cynical, more cut-throat.

He hadn't liked what she'd turned in to, and when he'd realised his heart was no longer in their relationship, she'd seemed unaffected, having learned how to hide emotions from him, to protect herself from that sharp and sometimes acidic tongue of his. Some part of him would always love her, but they'd pushed each other away enough in the end that there were only so many cracks they could take before they were destined to fall apart.

Cameron was different somehow. She was naïve and tried to see the best in people...she'd even tried to defend her cheating husband, though he guessed that was more hope on her part than actually wanting to defend Andrew. And as much as House scoffed at her Disney-like view of the world, where the good people triumphed and the bad people lost all, House couldn't put his finger on why, but he was drawn to her. He mocked her black-and-white outlook, but she was beginning to see the shades of grey now. He wanted to touch but he was frightened of marring the fragile perfection that had too recently been damaged.

He also wasn't sure if he could handle the sudden responsibility of a child (or two) if he did let himself open up to Cameron. She needed support, with everything she was going through, and he couldn't be that for her. He just couldn't provide the emotional support she needed. The thought, in fact, terrified him.

Deep down, he knew that part of the reason he'd never wanted kids was the idea that he might turn into his father. As much as he came across as an uncaring bastard, the thought of treating his own child like his father treated him, of his own child resenting him the way he resented John House…that was enough to put him off ever risking it.

But he reluctantly admitted that he was fighting a smile as he watched Elle discovering the mirror. She stopped, watching curiously for a moment before moving a little closer to this other child that had suddenly appeared before her. Reaching out a tiny hand she backed off quickly as the 'other child' imitated exactly what she did.

This game entertained her for endlessly amusing minutes until she became a little perplexed by it and started to cry. House wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do. Just move her away from the mirror and let her get on with finding her toys, or comfort her, or maybe offer some kind of other distraction? He simply didn't understand what this whole parenting thing took, or how Cameron made it seem so natural and easy.

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After she heard the door slam, with nothing but silence following it, Abbie had remained frozen in the bed for a few endless moments. Had she heard right? Was her sister really pregnant again?

Pushing her hair off her face, she got up and grabbed a silk robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door, before quietly slipping out into the living room. Andrew was stood perfectly still by the door, his back to her.

"Maybe it was for the best-"

"For the best?! You really think my wife catching us doing it in the bed we've slept in for years is 'for the best'? You really think me losing all chance of seeing my unborn child is 'for the best'?"

He was incredulous and she folded her arms, raising her eyebrows in response.

"This isn't all down to me, y'know! You're the one who can't keep it in his pants. If you really loved Ally that much, you'd have told me where to go four years ago…or at the very least last night!"

He had no reply for that, because he knew she was right. He'd never been able to resist Abbie, but he should have done. He did love Allison, always had. But he'd never felt like he really deserved her. Giving in to her sister only confirmed that in his mind. How could he ever have accused Allison of cheating? Abbie had been right – if she had cheated she'd have been overcome by guilt and would surely have crumbled when the accusations started flying.

And now she was pregnant. He wasn't just losing his wife – whom he fully deserved to lose for what he'd put her through – but his daughter and unborn child too.

"Well, at least she's gone now. You – we – can move on with our lives."

"Are you kidding me? You think I'm just going to let her go, that easily? Let my children go that easily? This, between us," he gestured between them and shook his head, "it's over. Never again."

Abbie simply smiled, a bored sigh passing her lips.

"You say that every time, Andrew. She won't take you back. She's not as pathetic as you seem to think she is. Ally is tougher than anyone gives her credit for."

Knowing that was one of the only nice things she'd ever said about her sister, Abbie disappeared back into the bedroom, pulled on her clothes and grabbed her bag as she returned to the living room. Andrew was now sat on the sofa, head in his hands. She didn't' say a word to him, simply made for the front door, keys in hand.

Closing the door behind her, she was halfway down the steps when her eyes caught sight of a familiar car across the street and before she realised it, she was looking straight into the broken gaze of her older sister.

She'd never before felt guilty about anything, believing regrets were pointless and the world was cold, so you had to be a cold, hard bitch to survive. But seeing Allison looking straight at her, void of the contempt she knew she herself would feel toward a woman she'd caught her husband in bed with, caused a stirring of guilt in her stomach.

She didn't know what to do, but she wanted out. Either that or she wished Allison would just get out of the car and start screaming at her. At least it would dissipate some of the guilt, if she could release it all by yelling back. She could let out all the anger she'd been harbouring toward her over the years.

Part of her wanted to see her sister hurting. All her life, Abbie had watched whilst Allison had landed on her feet, had made the right choices, had made their parents proud. And for every good decision Allison made, Abbie had countered it, whether purposefully to be spiteful or whether it was purely accidental. Her resentment toward her older sister had accumulated over the years and even when Allison had moved away to Princeton, Abbie still heard nothing but, "Ally did this," or, "Ally said that," back home in Illinois. She was perpetually in her shadow.

So Abbie had grown to hate Allison, in contrast to her other sister Jennifer, whom she was sure didn't have one jealous or bitter bone in her body. In that respect, Jennifer was much like Allison and she would always be pleased for anything good happening to her siblings. But with the constant, "Oh, Abigayle, why can't you be more like Ally?" used to put her down; her antipathy had always been channelled toward Allison.

She was never as smart, or as moral, or as pretty as Allison. So when Andrew had come onto the scene, attending college with Allison but also being the son of long-time family friends, Abbie had instantly fallen for him, and instead of returning those feelings, he fell in love with and married Allison. That had been a real tipping point and she'd vowed that she'd made Allison hurt as much as she had when she'd been forced to watch them walk down the aisle.

Turning on her heel with a small quirk of her lips, arrogance hiding the real hurt she kept beneath the surface, Abbie made for her car, the bitter part of her pleased she'd finally made Allison pay for all the years of being second best.

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Putting her car into gear as Abbie's car disappeared down the street; Cameron sighed and wondered what had gone so wrong with them. Abbie had always hated her, but she'd never understood why. She hadn't hated Jennifer, and she and Jen were very similar. She didn't know what she'd done to cause her younger sister to feel such contempt toward her.

Refusing to dwell on it, fed up of trying to figure Abbie's motives out, Cameron instead focused on the drive back to House's apartment, leaving Andrew and her old life behind her without glancing in her rear-view mirror.

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House decided that the best course of action with the kid crying was to pick her up. That's what Cameron did after all, and it seemed to work. So he limped heavily over to the tearful child and awkwardly hoisted her into the air. Her crying had wavered for a moment as she studied him, as though trying to decide whether or not to comply with his obvious attempts to shut her up.

She continued to whine as he managed to make it to the sofa, sitting her on his good leg and watching carefully as she settled, somehow fascinated by the logo on the front of his shirt, trying to grab at it but to no avail. It amused him a little and he couldn't help but be somewhat enthralled by how much she was like a tiny version of Cameron.

But the sound of a car pulling up and a door slamming shut jerked him back to reality and he uncomfortably heaved Elle onto his hip before glancing out of the window and limping to the door. The little girl giggled at the bouncing movement of his gait and he shook his head.

"Oh, yeah, that's right; laugh at a cripple. Evil kid."

He muttered lightly, reaching the door and flinging it open. Cameron wasn't crying, nor was she screaming or half-catatonic.

She looked faintly startled as the door swung open before her before she'd even knocked, but her face softened and a small smile – somewhat sad if he had to describe it – tugged at her lips when she saw him stood in the doorway holding her daughter.

Cameron ruffled her daughter's hair and managed a smile as the child squealed with joy at Cameron's return, holding out her tiny arms and straining for her mother. Of course, Cameron couldn't deny the little girl and took her from House with a grateful squeeze of his arm.

He gave a short nod and dropped his gaze. He wasn't a baby person so he really hadn't planned on handling the kid in any way…she knew that, right?

"You look…calm. Did your talk go well or something?"

He was certainly surprised when she shook her head, intrigued as he joined her making her way to the sofa, Elle on her knee as she sat.

"She was there."

He stayed quiet, able to imagine the scene in his head and actually feeling a kind of sympathy for Cameron. He wasn't used to that emotion so he quashed it, shaking his head to clear it properly. He hated how she could make him…feel.

"Did you…"

"Walk in on them? Yeah, I did. He was…they were…in our bed."

He could hear the strain in her voice and he wondered how long her calm façade was going to last.

"It made me sick, House. I'd been gone a night and he clearly feels that little for me that he has no problems fucking her in our bed! And I hate to think how many times they've done it there in the past."

His frown deepened as he studied her carefully, her words turning around in his mind.

"In the past?"

"Yeah, he's been sleeping with her for four years. That's four years of our marriage that's meant nothing to him. He always kept on about how he so desperately wanted kids, and when I finally did get pregnant with Elle, he was…he was so happy. But he carried on with her anyway. And I thought I had it all. I thought we had it all. Well, he clearly did – he had me and my sister on the go for four years."

She was still maintaining her strong front, but a single tear drifting down her cheek gave her pain away. Without thinking, he reached over and brushed it away, his had stilling against her cheek as he realised what he'd done, her pulse thrumming beneath the fingers close to her neck. She looked back at him, eyes brimming with far too many emotions for him to handle, searching for something in him that he was trying so hard to hide.

He leaned over and pressed a ghost of a kiss on her lips, feeling her respond every so slightly, her hesitation still evident. It was the only way he knew how to provide comfort. But her hesitance was only natural trusting now, after her own husband and sister had betrayed her so coldly.

"You can stay here as long as you want."

He mumbled against her lips and she nodded, whispering a thank you back before he moved back into his own space, aware that Elle was watching them carefully. The little girl probably had no clue about what was going on, and House was somewhat glad she was too young to understand her mother kissing another man other than her father wasn't generally what happened when her parents were happy.

He was surprised Cameron was controlling her emotions so well though. No more tears had fallen from her eyes and she seemed remarkably composed.

"I'll start looking for a place, but if we can stay here whilst I look that's great."

For a moment there was a moment of silence between them before Cameron cleared her throat.

"I'm gonna need a good divorce lawyer…do you mind if I consult Stacy about it? I mean, with her connections she'll know-"

"It's fine, Cameron."

He couldn't help but find her quick justification quite endearing, if not completely typical of her. But at least she had her head screwed on now. She wasn't wallowing in self-pity or questioning what she'd done so wrong in their marriage…she was thinking practically and rationally. Lawyer, divorce, closure.

"You…don't mind me bringing her back into your life?"

"She won't be 'back in my life', OK?" He was defensive and she could sense the irritation in him when it came to talking about Stacy, "She's not a divorce attorney, so she won't be on your case, ergo she won't have to come back here. That's everyone happy."

She simply nodded and he pushed himself up off the sofa, heading for the kitchen. She suspected he just needed the space back between them. She'd stumbled too close to the personal stuff and he was backing off. Sighing softly, she rocked Elle as the baby drifted off in her arms.

A.N. Just a quick note to say a big thank you to all of you! Your reviews are my Vicodin and I really appreciate you sticking with this despite Andrew!Baby LOL :P Don't worry, I'm addressing it next chapter! :)

Aaaand, as some of you requested, I'm starting to delve into Abbie's motives. Let me know what you think :)