Disclaimer: I don't own Robert Chase, Allison Cameron, Remy "Thirteen" Hadley, or House, M.D. They belong to David Shore, lucky bastard.
Warning: Very mild femslash, a little spoilery if you haven't seen Season 4, I guess…but who hasn't?
"Why?" she repeated, tears streaming down her face. It was getting pretty irritating, to tell the truth. Her eyes were almost as red as when she was coming off the meth. As red as the first time.
"I just...don't love you anymore," I said. "And no, before you ask again, there isn't anyone else."
"Robert," she whispered. She never called me that. God, she was getting desperate.
"Goodbye. Allison," I added before I turned and left our—her—apartment.
A few days later, I found myself in the emergency room with a patient who was too unstable to be transported to an OR.
"Sign there, Dr. Chase," a familiar voice said quietly, shoving a clipboard under my nose.
I scribbled my initials and said, "There you go," not looking at her. I turned to the sink and began scrubbing.
"Chase. Seriously. I'm sorry about the other night. I'm not going to break down or go nuts. Anyway, we're in the ER."
I finally turned to her. "Oh, so we're back to 'Chase' now? 'Robert' was beginning to grow on me."
"Excuse me for trying to make an effort. Oh well. Lives to save, charts to fill in. See you later."
She was oddly calm. I'd imagined her to be the type who moaned for months about lost loves and cried herself to sleep every night. Not that I was complaining, of course.
Suddenly, it hit me. She'd found someone else.
That evening, as I was leaving the hospital, exhausted from the five-hour surgery, I saw them. They were in front of her car, her hand in the someone-else's, head leaning on the someone-else's shoulder. They both had their hoods up, but I knew Cam anywhere. Worming her hand from the someone-else's grasp, she opened the passenger door with a flourish. The someone-else got into the car and Cam dashed around to the other side. She hopped in too and leaned in for a kiss. She took the someone-else's hood down.
It was a girl.
Cam glanced up and saw me, paused for a second. The someone-else turned around.
It was House's new brunette. 'Thirteen'. She turned back, unsure of what to do. I could imagine the quizzical look on her face. For once, Cameron was decisive. She grabbed Thirteen, held her closer, and probably stuck her tongue down her throat. I don't know. I turned away, walked to my own car, and drove straight to a bar.
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