TITLE: Chapter 18 Goodbyes

AUTHOR: new_raven

PAIRING: House/Chris

RATING: R-ish

WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: Goodbye's always suck.

DISCLAIMER: House and his pretty friends don't belong to me.

Chris spent Friday dotting I's and crossing T's. Everything was ready. It was kind of scary how easy it was to uproot her entire life. The money for the house hit the bank and would be available in one week. She instructed the diner to forward her last check to Rachel's address and Rachel agreed to deposit it if she promised to write. She bought her bus ticket at the station so that House couldn't go online and interfere, not that she really thought he would at that point.

The McKenna's insisted on taking her out for a farewell dinner. They insisted that she have the lobster when she said she'd never tried it. When they plates were cleared and the check had been taken care of Rachel's mom pulled a small bag from her purse. They all smiled as Chris awkwardly accepted and began thanking them before she'd even opened it.

She pulled a long package wrapped in pink and green striped paper from the bag and opened it. It was a wooden case that held a golden pen with her name engraved on it. "For writing home." Rachel told her. A second smaller package was wrapped in the same paper. Her eyes welled when she opened it. It held a small filigree cross with an opal in the center. She held it up and noticed the chain was extra long and sturdy.

"To keep you safe." Rachel's mom said sniffing and dotting her eyes with a napkin.

"Thank you." Chris told them over and over again as they hugged and said their goodbyes.

She wore the necklace home. House didn't comment on it when she sat at the piano bench next to him. He played a slow bluesy melody that she didn't recognized. It seemed to fit. She told him that she was going to spend Saturday at the hospital with her mom, but that Sunday was all his. She'd do anything he wanted, even if it involved a strip club.

The visit with her mother was exhausting, the way that visiting a sick loved one always is even when they are sane. Sherry seemed to understand that Chris wouldn't be able to visit for while by the end of the day. Chris sat in the car and cried for a long time before she drove home.

When she walked in House looked up from a glass of whiskey with a steel gaze. "What else did you steal?"

"What?"

"You stole my Rolling Stones shirt and a CD." He motioned to the two items sitting on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry. You never wear it. I just wanted something to remember."

"This isn't a gift shop. We don't sell souvenirs."

"Why the hell were you going through my bags?"

"I was looking for my Ramones CD."

"That's not even yours. Rachel gave it to me when she realized she doesn't actually give a crap about punk rock." She snatched the case off the table. "Your copy is in your computer. It's been there as long as I've lived here."

She went to the bedroom and started repacking her suitcase. She heard House turning on the computer. She went to the doorway and listened as the CD drive opened and closed again. She held onto the door frame and forced herself not to go to him as "I Wanna Be Sedated" started automatically. She heard the door open and slam shut when he left.

House called Wilson from the bar when he decided he didn't want to be sober enough to drive again that night. Wilson showed up about half an hour later and sat next to him at the bar. He ordered a beer and waited for House to say something.

"Some designated driver you are."

"I assumed we'd be here a while."

House grunted.

"So she didn't like the Bed and Breakfast?"

"She's leaving."

"Moving out? Tell her you want her to stay. You're the one who said it was temporary."

"Leaving the country."

Wilson looked at him and waited for more information.

"Peace Corps."

"I thought they usually took college graduates."

House glared at him. "You're not surprised?"

"She used me as a reference."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"I didn't think they'd accept her."

"She speaks three languages. Her school offered an advanced health. She's practically a surgeon by third world standards."

"I'm sorry."

House knocked back his scotch and motioned for another.

"When?" Wilson asked.

"Tuesday."

"If you've only got two days why you wasting your time here?"

"You think I can change her mind?" House perked up.

"I think you can either mope until she's glad to be rid of you, or you can make the most of it and give her something to miss."

"What do I do?"

"Take her for nice dinner. Give her something to remember you by. Tell her you don't want her to leave."

"I can't make her stay."

"No, but you can make sure she knows she has the option."

They didn't leave until the bar was closing and House passed out in the car on the drive home. Wilson woke him and helped him to the door, but it was a slow clumsy process. It took both of them to find House's keys and get the door unlocked.

Chris was sitting in House's overstuffed chair with her legs curled under her. A cigarette hung from her lips, ear bud wires framed her face, and she was bent over a stack of paperwork and pamphlets. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and not much else. She looked up when the door opened and reached for a throw to cover herself with when she saw Wilson.

"Shit. You could warn me when you bring friends home." She scowled at House

"No, he couldn't. Your phone's turned off." Wilson's tone was colder than he intended or anyone expected.

"You could warn me before you move to Peru." House chimed in too drunk to think of a better comeback.

Chris looked at her phone and saw she had two missed calls and a voicemail. She decided not to mention that there was a home phone. She moved to get up and help House to bed but Wilson was already herding him that way.

"I've got it." Wilson nodded. "You get to deal with the hangover."

She heard grumbling and laughter. The toilet flushed and something clattered on the counter in the bathroom. She stood up and wrapped the blanket around herself like a towel. After a while Wilson backed out of the room and closed the door gently.

"He didn't drink all that much, but it's hard to say how much Vicodin he had."

Chris just nodded.

"You didn't even tell him you were applying?"

"I didn't think they'd accept me. I almost forgot I'd even done it. It was all online; right after my mom went in. I applied everywhere but the Army. I still get emails about study abroad programs and mission trips, but I can't afford those."

"So that's it. You're just leaving. No discussion. His feeling be damned?"

"I can't pass this up to spare House's feelings." She said 'feelings' as if it was an unproven theory. "He'll be fine. He'll get over me before he's finished dialing the next hooker's phone number."

"You don't believe that. You're just making excuses to run away."

"I don't care how he deals." She checked herself to keep her voice level. "I will have other lovers. I may not get another chance like this."

Wilson's expression was impossible to read. He could have been disgusted by her callousness, or it might have been shock. Maybe it was fear. He was the only one who could chronicle House's downward spiral after a relationship ended. Now he had to pull him through another. He finally shook his head, wished her good luck, and left.

When she woke the next morning he was gone. She looked through the apartment and then checked the street in front of the building. His bike was gone too. She tried calling but his phone went straight to voicemail. That ruled out work, because he kept his phone on when he had a case. She killed time chain smoking and reading the Peace Corps website until he showed up around four o'clock.

"Where have you been?" She asked as soon as he walked in the door. "Do you have a patient?"

"Strip club."

"What?' They don't open until noon on Sundays. Where were you before that?"

"Waiting for the strip clubs to open and writing my congressman about that law."

"It's my last day here and you'd rather…"

"We've got tomorrow."

"You have to work. I have to run errands and pack and… it doesn't matter. You're here now. What do you want to do?" She put her arms around him and kissed him.

"It might be a while." He watched her face register confusion, then concern, and then anger. "It was a really good lap dance."

"Stop trying to pick a fight. I have one more day. I don't want to fight with you."

He pulled away from her. "You used to like fighting."

"It's not what I want right now."

"You're getting exactly what you want." They were the first uncalculated words he'd said to her in weeks. He hadn't meant to yell, but he also hadn't meant to give a damn.

"Thank you. Just say what you need to say. I know you're mad. Yell about it."

House just shook his head. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. She was sitting at the foot of the bed when he walked by. He stood in the door and she looked up at him.

"I don't want you to leave." His voice was low and he didn't look at her face.

"I know."She closed her eyes. "I don't want to leave you, but I can't have it both ways. I need to do this. I need you not talk me out of it."

"I couldn't talk you out of it."

"Yes you could." She smiled and a tear escaped. "I'm so scared, and I…" The words 'I love you' caught in her throat like they always did. "But I would hate you for it. I don't want to hate you."

House came to sit beside her on the bed, but didn't talk. He knew she wasn't done. She collected her thoughts and tried to decide what she really needed to say.

"You said that our best hope was end up so miserable that we didn't even care if it ended. If I stayed it would just extend our shelf life. You'd stay a little longer out of guilt. I'd try a little harder because I don't want to admit I made a mistake.

This is perfect. It's no one's fault. There are no bad memories, well a few, but not years worth. You still make me happy. You're still the best thing that ever happened to me." She hissed a breath as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't sob or shutter, but closed her eyes and let them fall. He put his arms around her and kissed her, pulling her to him and letting her go.

She'd said she'd meet him at the apartment at six o'clock, but House knew that the last bus to New York left at six thirty. He also knew she wouldn't take the last bus of the day in case he found a way to make her miss it. He took Wilson's car to the station and waited.

He watched her walk from the city bus stop to the platform. She paced around the row of meal benches a few times before stepping a few feet into the parking lot and lighting a cigarette. When the bus came she moved closer to the hoards. Her back was tense and she clung to her bags as the people poured out of the bus and into the arms of loved ones.

As the chirping cheerful masses parted she saw him. He was just a few feet away and moving towards her. Her lips curled down and her jaw trembled as she tried to regain her composure. By the time he was standing next to her the tears were flowing in a steady stream.

"Shit." She mumbled. "You hate this kind of crap. You're only here because I didn't want you to come."

House nodded. "You deserve it."

She moved into him and wrapped him in her arms. She kissed him, and then hid her face, and then kissed him again until he could taste her tears and feel her fear. She couldn't control her sobs now. She didn't think she could get on the bus.

Her face was twisted with pain as she looked up at him and forced down her sobs until she found her voice. "I don't have to go. It's just a trip. I love you." Her breath caught when she said it as if she'd only just realized she meant it. Then she pleaded with him to make this easier for her. "Tell me not to go. Tell me we can make this work and that you love me."

"You have to go. We won't make this work."

Then he was silent. She looked as if she had been slapped. Silence was the cruelest thing he could have given her. Crueler than saying he didn't love her or saying he loved her but not enough. It would have been kinder to say he hated her. Now she would always know he loved her and always wonder if he didn't.

She nodded and opened her mouth, but no words came. He turned and walked away. His pace was slow and steady. She could have caught him. She wanted to stop him, but she couldn't or wouldn't, and they were boarding now. When her feet finally stepped toward the bus it felt like she was underwater. Every step was labored. She collapsed in the first seat she found and searched the parking lot for him or the car, but he was already gone.

When House got home he found this letter taped to the TV where he couldn't miss it or totally avoid it.

House,

Don't be mad. I hate goodbyes. This seemed easier. It's really not. (Note the tear stain in the corner.) Thank you for everything. Don't forget me. I'm going to miss you like crazy. I'll write again soon.

Chris

P.S. Don't take it out on Wilson when he comes to check on you.

A week later he got an e-mail but didn't respond to it.

House,

So we aren't being sent over to replace the people who were lost in the mudslides. We are replacing the people who have already replaced them. It looks like I'm probably going to Cambodia. I'm going to need a separate bag just for sunscreen.

XOXO, Chris

P.S. I found the shirt. Thank you.

It was almost three months before he heard from her again. This time the e-mail was filled with pictures of other volunteers, brown skinned people, and beautiful scenery.

House,

Sorry it's been so long. Now that I'm settled I can get to a computer more often. They keep us pretty busy. We're teaching an AIDs awareness class. The people I work with are awesome. Everyone is pretty awesome, and the great thing is they all assume that I'm awesome just because I'm here.

It's really lonely here. I miss you even more than I thought I would, and I knew I'd miss you a lot. I think about you when it rains. I guess I'm lucky it's the dry season. There was a Jeep broken down on the road a few days ago. I cried like a three year old. It was pretty awkward.

I keep wondering if I made a huge mistake. I didn't, and if I did I can't change it now, but I keep wondering all the same. Don't worry. I'll be fine. You can't get antibiotics around here to save your life, but there is always something for the pain.

How are you? How're the kids? What's the weather like? This is me not so subtly saying you could respond if you wanted.

Love, Chris.

The next one came a few week later.

House,

I met Angelina Jolie. I saw her applying sunscreen and threatened to tell TMZ that I saw her buying children if she didn't give it to me. (I ran out in less than a month.) She took me back to her place where she had cases and cases of SPF 50, and then we made out a little. She says Brad doesn't mind as long as the kids don't find out.

Ok,none of that is true except for the part about running out of sunscreen. I thought you'd enjoy the mental picture though. I guess if I don't hear from you after this I'll stop bothering you.

Chris