Broken - Chapter 11
Author: 2tailswaggin
Title: Broken
Chapter: 11
Previous Chapters: just go to my LJ - they're all there.
Prequel: Happiness
Rating: Adult
Pairings: House/Cameron
Spoilers: Early Season 3
Again
bmax67 this wouldn't be half as fun without you and all the great input! Thanks to
phineyj for stepping in on this one too - you're absolutely incredible. :)
I'm going on vacation next week so it's going to be a while before I post again...just so ya know!
Ok Tiff....the clock starts.................................................now! lol
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Chapter 11
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It felt good to be sitting at his piano again. No matter what happened in his life, it had always been a consistent friend. The eighty-eight keys never changed regardless of the packaging. Sometimes the piano came in the form of his beautiful black baby grand; sometimes the old upright that had been donated to the hospital chapel by the widow of a former patient. They never questioned his choices, never stated the obvious like how downing a couple Vicodin and chasing them with a mouthful of Scotch was a bad idea. They always did exactly as they were told and in return they gave a sound that could round off the ends of even the roughest, shittiest day. Of course it helped that watching him play the piano was a big turn-on for Cameron. She had her own ways of softening the edges of his shitty days, too.
He knew how disappointed she was when she walked out of his room, when he couldn’t bring himself to simply tell her what was really going on. How it wasn’t about her but it was about his inadequacies. Even before he’d lost his leg he felt she should be with someone younger, nicer…someone who was at least whole or wasn’t emotionally stunted.
House, no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t fight the demon that whispered in his ear every day since they’d been together. Telling him this wouldn’t last, she wouldn’t last, the novelty or rebellious taste of it would soon get stale for her and he’d be left alone again, and more broken than he already was. The voice counseled him, telling him that the way to prevent that, of course, was to not let himself fall. Not let himself trust her. Keep up his defenses and no one would get hurt. At least, he wouldn’t. If she got hurt it would be her own damn fault. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known know what she was getting herself into.
As much as these things went around in his mind, it didn’t keep him from noticing a cavity that was forming inside him. The frightening thing about it was that everything about Cameron fit perfectly into it. If she were to leave, it would be empty and would leave him with another painful void. Weaker people might call it need, but House just called it dangerous.
Ever since the wreck, he kept finding himself in this same debate. He didn’t want this to end but if it were to continue it only made the danger more treacherous. This had all been kept on a comfortably superficial level until four weeks ago. There was an unspoken understanding that they were exclusive but so far their relationship had just kind of existed, happened naturally…coasted. But now they had obviously turned the page.
When Cameron had offered to leave and go back to her place for the weekend, a lump got stuck in House’s throat. He knew he didn’t want her to go, but nothing about it felt rational. Any other time he would have welcomed the peace and quiet. House never reasoned on feelings; the only things that dictated his thoughts were logic and science, and until recently, opiates. But this time, as irrational as it seemed, he knew he needed her to stay, he needed to give her just enough to convince her not to go. Of course all he’d had to offer her was what he didn’t want. He didn’t want her leaving.
House’s thoughts returned to his piano and becoming acquainted with it again. Playing a few lines of this, then a few lines of that, trying to adjust to operating the pedals with his left foot. His piano playing was a natural extension of himself so the awkwardness of having his right foot missing made it all feel new. For the first time in a very long time it required some conscious effort again, like everything else did now, it seemed.
House had begun to lose himself in the sounds emanating from the instrument, relaxing him as his fingers moved naturally and gently across the keys. Meanwhile Cameron and Sam put the groceries away. Cameron came to the doorway and House looked over at her and asked, "Why are you doing that?" nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen, "Isn’t that what he’s here for?"
Cameron tilted her head slightly to the side, gave him a look that said ‘I heard you the first twelve times when you reminded me why Sam’s here’, then asked, "Is Wilson coming over?"
"Supposed to be."
Cameron turned to go back into the kitchen before House added over the sound of the piano, "And he’s supposed to be bringing pizza," as he played a couple more chords.
The rest of the evening went pretty much as House expected it would. His leg hurt like hell until he finally sat down on the couch and put the towel and ice pack Cameron had prepared on the sore area. The ibuprofen also helped take the edge off and at least stopped the throbbing. The areas where it was rubbing raw weren’t going to just go away though. Ben had been right about taking it easy at first and House just hoped he could get his prosthetic back on sometime tomorrow.
Trusty Wilson showed up with pizza. As predicted it had extra green pepper, which House hated. It was Wilson’s annoyingly passive aggressive way of reminding House who always paid for the pizza. He wished he could learn to like peppers just to piss Wilson off but he figured he’d just pick something new and equally distasteful to put on it. Hell, House wouldn’t put it past Wilson to try to convince someone to put pickles on it. Then he’d have two things to pick off and dramatically turn his nose up at, and that would just be too much work.
Sam and Wilson hit it off, of course. Sam spoke idealistically like any real-world newbie would about his new job with the pharmaceutical company and how he was going to change the world. House tried to straighten him out on the ins and outs of big business politics and bottom lines but it didn’t seem to get through. This was totally predictable when it concerned a recent graduate and someone not unlike Cameron. Sam wanted to save the world and Cameron had just wanted to save House - both equally impossible to achieve. However, House had felt, and welcomed, her cynicism about the matter as it settled in over time.
Cameron was falling asleep on the end of the couch, her leg brace lying on the floor next to her. Wilson started gathering empty beer bottles while Sam picked up the pizza box, stacked the empty ice-cream bowls and took them into the kitchen. House nudged Cameron in the feet knowing she wouldn’t want to miss saying goodbye and that she needed to get up off the couch and go to bed.
Wilson came out of the kitchen and stood in the living room, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
"I’ve missed this," he admitted, sheepishly.
"Why don’t you go home so you can miss it again then?" House sniped, deflecting Wilson’s sentimentality.
"Thanks for coming over, Wilson," Cameron added as she slowly sat up and stretched a little, adding mid-yawn, "and for the pizza."
Wilson pulled his keys out of his pocket, "If you guys need anything tomorrow just give me a call."
"Thanks." Cameron repeated as Wilson walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
Cameron looked over at House who was leaning his head against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, "Sam can get you some more ice."
He lifted his head and looked at her, "I hope this swelling goes down by tomorrow or I’m going to be stuck with those crutches all day."
Cameron yelled towards the kitchen, "Hey, can you get House some more ice?" then added, "The bags are in the second drawer by the fridge."
Cameron pushed herself up, trying not to put too much weight on her knee without her brace and told House she was going to bed. House grabbed his crutches with the towel clutched in one hand and pulled himself up. Cameron limped heavily into the kitchen, went up behind Sam and gave him a bear hug from behind, saying, "Thanks Sammy," while House watched curiously from the doorway. Sam turned around and gave her a proper hug and answered, "I’m just glad I could help you guys out."
Sam spotted House watching and added, "Even him," nodding in his direction.
Cameron pulled away and faked her surprise at Sam and then at House, "What’s this? Did you guys become BFFs after I fell asleep?"
With that House scoffed at both of them and thump-shuffled himself down the hall to the bedroom. Sam turned back to Cameron and said, "Hey Al…even in all this shit I can see how happy you are. I guess I have to assume he’s got something to do with that," he finished reluctantly.
Cameron smiled and jumped up slightly, guarding her right leg, and kissed him on the cheek, "Thanks Sam," she said again then took the bag of ice and left the kitchen.
Cameron stopped off at the bathroom then limped into the bedroom finding House sitting on the edge of the bed looking closely at his leg, lightly touching the red parts that were starting to blister.
"Do you want some antibiotics or anything?" she asked, handing him the ice.
"Maybe I should…if this gets infected I’ll be on those damn crutches even longer," he said, still examining his leg.
She returned to the bathroom and came back with a tube of Neosporin. She walked over and handed it to him, "Listen…" He looked up at her.
"About earlier…" she started, as he took the tube and made a point of looking back at his leg.
"I’m not avoiding your leg…I’m just waiting on you," she paused but he didn’t look up, "I don’t want you to misunderstand that."
"Got it," House said shortly and started smoothing the cream on various parts of his leg.
Cameron turned on the light by the bed then turned off the main light. She limped around to the other side and crawled in. House spent a few more moments putting the antibiotics on his leg then rolled the black nylon sock back on, hoping to get the swelling down by tomorrow. He picked up the bag of ice and the towel then clicked off the light and settled down beside her.
Cameron saw the ice still in his hand and reached for it carefully, looking at him, questioning him without saying a word. He let go and handed her the towel. House lay on his back watching her as she pulled the sheet down and started to lift the leg of his shorts.
"Do you want to take these off?" she asked.
"Cameron," he scolded playfully out of the side of his mouth, "your little brother is on the other side of that door."
"Settle down, tiger," she laughed out, "I just thought…" she stopped mid-sentence when he took the waistband of his shorts in both hands, lifted his hips and pushed them down. Cameron helped him once he got them as far as he could without sitting up. She realized how much easier this was now. Before, when either of them were particularly anxious, they’d spend the better part of their short period of foreplay just trying to get the damn things off while trying not to bump his leg and cause more pain than he was already in.
"Hey, no more voracious sex while you’re stuck with your jeans around your knees. I like this," she joked seductively,
"Right," he drew out sarcastically, "now I just have to get my jeans and my new leg off."
"Aw shit, you’re right," Cameron immediately felt like an idiot even trying to joke about that.
"From here on out you need to give me at least fifteen minutes warning before you jump me," he said with very little humor or enthusiasm.
"You’ll figure something out. You always do," she raised her eyebrows and grinned, trying to recover from her stupid attempt at some humor.
She completely removed his shorts and dropped them to the floor, exposing his boxer briefs. She straightened the towel out over his leg then evened out the bag of ice and gently placed it on top of it. She pulled the sheet up as she scooted up close to him all in one motion.
While she settled down, he pulled his arm out from under her and put it around her, pulling her up to him so he could kiss her. She placed her hand on the side of his face and kissed him back, slowly and gently but at the first request of his tongue Cameron pushed herself up on her elbow and slid her body over his left side. She tried being careful to straddle only his good leg and not accidentally nudge his right one - something that already came naturally to her.
"Easy tiger," he mocked lightly back at her, "don’t be cruel and start something you’re not gonna let me finish."
"Like what?" she grinned at him while she lightly pressed her thigh into his groin.
"Yeah," he held his breath and grunted out, "like that."
She kissed him again, easing off on the pressure below and reminded him, "Sam goes home on Sunday."
"Wanna take bets on how quickly I can get you off after he leaves?" he gave her an evil grin.
Cameron’s shocked laugh came out her nose and she snorted before she had the chance to even open her mouth, "You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?" She loved it when he talked like that and meant it, and he knew it. One more comment like that and something was going to happen that would keep her from looking Sam in the eye come tomorrow morning.
"Nope, I’m a guy. What do you expect?" he answered, finally lifting his hands to her back and sliding them under her shirt. She felt his fingers slowly slide down her back, resting on her ass and squeezing it.
"You know," she started, "something that I’m really fond of happens to be right next to that leg we’ve both been avoiding." She grinned hesitantly at him.
"I thought you weren’t avoiding it," he countered.
Cameron just tilted her head and looked at him, playfully annoyed.
"Is that going to be a problem?" he asked a little defensively.
"Not for me…" Cameron baited him.
House just closed his eyes and didn’t answer.
"I really do wish I could read your mind; well that’s not completely true," she deflected with a chuckle and he opened his eyes to look at her again, "but we just might have to get past this before…" Her voice intentionally dropped off knowing her point was loud and clear.
"It’s ugly," he finally admitted, but Cameron knew there was more to it than that. In fact, she could practically read his mind but what she saw wasn’t something she thought he’d be real comfortable hearing from her.
"It’s a leg…with a scar…that will heal." She immediately knew she’d over-simplified that but she didn’t want this conversation to just die. Now that they were finally talking about it, she wanted it settled.
"That is not a leg," he said forcefully, "and it’s not going to heal."
Cameron folded her hands across his chest and rested her chin on them, "I’m sorry."
House closed his eyes again and said quietly, "I don’t want you to avoid it anymore."
"Okay," she answered simply, resting her cheek on his chest as House wrapped his arms around her body once again.
That wasn’t quite all she was looking for but considering it was House she knew it was a step forward so that was enough. She never imagined a relationship could progress so slowly but he was here with her, which is something she had begun to question would happen again in the days right after the accident. So she couldn’t really ask for anything more.
They both lay there in the quiet darkness for a while. They could hear the muted mumble of the TV coming from the living room and see the soft flicker of the light through the crack under the door. Even though Cameron had fallen asleep on the couch earlier, she felt wide awake now. Tired but awake, and she could tell by House’s breathing that he was still awake too.
"Are you sleepy?" she asked, still lying on his chest.
"Tired…not really sleepy, why?"
"Sam told me today you were fishing around for details about what my parents said when they were here." She lifted her head to look at him and saw a little guilt creep across his face.
"I should have figured the little runt would squeal," he mumbled.
"It’s okay. I should have told you about it a long time ago," she paused, "it’s just we never…" and her voice trailed off hoping he would interrupt her but he didn’t. He just looked intently at her. "We never did a lot of sharing about our lives before I came to Princeton," she finished.
"I thought maybe I’d just go ahead and tell you if you want to hear it," she said.
"You’ve kind of got me trapped here. Do I have much choice?" he grinned.
Cameron started to move off him, but he slid his hands to her hips and kept her there. She looked at him seriously and tried again. This time he let her. She rolled off him and onto her back. House reached under the sheets and held up the bag of ice while he turned onto his left side to face her, then balanced the ice back on his leg. He folded one arm under his pillow and rested his other arm across her stomach.
Cameron wasn’t sure about this. Many times when he’d been exceptionally cruel to her at work or when certain patients’ circumstances came up, she was glad House didn’t have this in his arsenal to use against her. Little did he know that a couple of times he had almost hit the nerve right on the head without even knowing it. But her parents had started it and now she felt she needed to finish it. It was better than House poking around who knows where trying to find out for himself. It might as well come from her.
"It was the evening after my last exam," she started. "A bunch of us went out to celebrate and a group of us had done some student teaching so some of our professors came along. We were done with med school and we were on top of the world," she turned to him and grinned nervously, "I’m sure you remember how that felt."
She looked away from him and continued, "Dr Branham had taken an interest in me early on and I’d spent most of my time working under him," then she admitted, "I was attracted to him."
House interrupted her, "Let me guess…grumpy old bastard type?" He grinned at her predictability.
"Old, maybe," she turned her head again and caught his expression, "but you’re my first grumpy bastard." She playfully acted like she was serious, but she was relieved by the humor. She was still feeling anxious about going down this road but she didn’t want to turn back. If she expected House to learn to trust her, she needed to do this.
"We had met some of their families through social events. Dr Branham even had a bunch of us over to his place on the Fourth of July once. He had a nice house in the country on a lake…a wife…couple kids…" her voice trailed off and she stopped for a moment, regaining her courage while House continued to listen, keeping an attentive eye on her.
"I had a few too many, I guess. I couldn’t hold my beers then like I can now," she turned back to him grinning, aware that he knew damn well she couldn’t hold them now either. She was failing miserably at masking the difficulty she was having. There wasn’t one emotion she owned that she could hide from him.
She turned away and took a slow deep breath, "I don’t remember many of the details, but my friends assured me it wasn’t all his doing. I woke up in my apartment hung over and alone, and never saw him again," she paused then added, "Which was appropriate I guess. Not that I wanted to face him."
Cameron was quiet for a while and so was House. His undivided, quiet, attention was making an already uncomfortable situation worse. He lightly rubbed the material of the shirt she was wearing, encouraging her to go on. She knew him well enough to know that as soon as her mom had mentioned it, he would be curious about it. Frankly, she was surprised he’d waited this long to say anything.
"It wasn’t long after when we found out my best friend Blake’s, thyroid cancer had metastasized to his brain." She looked at him, watching for his reaction. This was the part of the story House always thought he knew the ending to. It had always been easier just to let him believe what he wanted to rather than telling him the truth, and there was a time when she couldn’t have trusted him, but she needed to now.
"Of course it wasn’t long until I figured out I was pregnant," she looked into the darkness and closed her eyes.
"Fresh out of med school, starting up my residency…my best friend was dying, and I was pregnant as the result of a drunken night of stupidity. Blake and Sam were the only ones who knew the truth. All hell would have broken loose had my parents found out. They would have never let me forget how I’d disgraced their precious image," she finished in a slightly bitter tone.
She turned to look at him again, but his eyes were closed. She started to turn on her side to face him but thought better of it when her ribs gently reminded her they weren’t quite ready for that yet.
"Getting married was Blake’s idea. His prognosis was terminal. So we just let every body, including my parents, assume…" her voice fell off. She lay quiet for a few moments more then finished, "He wasn’t a charity case…I didn’t need to fix him. I was the damn charity case."
That phrase always took Cameron back to Café Spoleto two years past and the things he’d said as a result of her backing him into a corner. She turned to him and watched while he lay there quietly with his eyes tightly closed like he was recalling the same painful conversation. Making him feel bad wasn’t what she had intended so she didn’t waste any time moving away from that awful memory.
"A month later Blake died," her voice was clamped and she stopped for a minute feeling her eyes starting to well. She looked over at House and felt a tear roll slowly out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly lifted her hand and wiped it away, foolishly trying to hide it. He was watching her - his eyes were soft. He slid his hand across her stomach and to her side, encouraging her to move closer to him…so she did.
"I made three different appointments at three separate clinics and couldn’t bring myself to show up to any of them," she continued. "That’s when I decided if there was a God like my parents had drilled into my head since I was a kid, that there’s no way he could give a damn about the details of my life. I had no idea what I was going to do."
She turned and looked back up into the darkness above them, "Then one night I woke up cramping and I knew what was happening," she stopped then said quietly, "and I didn’t try to stop it…not that I could have."
"I cried for three days after that…not because I’d lost it, but because I’d wanted to. It made me question everything I thought I knew about myself."
Cameron rolled over, scooted back into him and he wrapped his arm tight around her. Things were quiet for longer than what was comfortable for Cameron. Now, she really wished she could read his mind. She knew he was thinking; she just wished she could predict his reaction. But it didn’t really matter now.
"Do you want to have kids someday?" House finally asked quietly.
That was a question she’d never thought she’d hear him ask…a question she’d never wanted him to ask.
"I’m not sure I deserve any," she answered honestly.
It took a moment for House to respond and when he did, he let go of her just long enough to brush the hair away from her neck; he kissed her and said quietly against her skin, "That’s not true."
Cameron just lay there on his pillow up against him, feeling his warm breath on her neck, trying to feel relieved that it was over. She could feel herself trembling slightly and knew he could probably feel it too.
House moved his hand from her stomach, casually touching her breast and mumbled directly in her ear, "You know…if all Dunbars sleep half as deep as you do, he’ll never hear a thing."
Cameron chuckled and could feel her body move against his, "I don’t care…I can’t." His warm breath in her ear sent chills up and down her spine. If he was trying to relax her, he was doing a damn good job of it. She was glad they weren’t going to lay there and dwell on her past or worse yet, House lay there and say nothing.
"C’mon," he whined.
"Listen," he silently held his breath for a moment, "he’s out cold. The TV isn’t even on anymore."
"All the more reason…" she lost her breath and her train of thought when he lifted her shirt and pressed firmly on her breast and kissed her neck again, running his tongue down to her shoulder.
"No!" she laughed out then sighed involuntarily.
"That doesn’t sound very convincing," he argued.
Cameron turned onto her back so he could see her face and know she was serious about this. But without looking into her eyes, he leaned into her and started kissing her and she knew she had just made a very bad move. She felt the ice pack fall from his leg and land between hers. The sensation of the cold plastic against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh made her quickly draw a breath from his.
She felt House smile against her lips as his hand deviously traveled down her side, across her leg and she heard the ice cubes rattle together and slosh around in the cold water as he took it in his hand. Cameron felt the icy cold slowly travel upwards, practically keeping her from breathing at all. She bit her bottom lip trying very hard not to turn the corner where there was no turning back.
"That’s cold," she whined softly.
House pulled away from her, looked seductively into her eyes and raised his eyebrows, "I know."
Cameron put her hand on his and took the bag away, dropping it to the floor.
He lifted her shirt higher and started to dip down towards her breasts, when Cameron put one hand on each side of his face and pulled it squarely in front of hers. His eyes were closed and he had a hesitant grin on his face that said ‘if I don’t look at you, you can’t tell me no’. She just held him there until he dared to peek at her with only one eye.
"I said no," she dragged out slowly, trying so hard to be firm but she wasn’t sure how strong she could be. God, she missed him…and this.
"You’re no fun," he finally resigned and he fell down on his back next to her.
"I’ll remember that on Sunday," she grinned and looked at him but he wasn’t smiling.
Cameron watched him, waiting for him to turn and smile at her showing the playful mood he was in, but he didn’t.
Shit.
Here they were, the closest thing in weeks to being completely alone with no chance of anyone walking in on them and he still can’t touch her like he obviously wanted to. Like she definitely wanted him to - more than he would probably believe right now because combined with the issues earlier with his leg, she was sure he was lying there battling his insecurities…again.
"House…I’m sorry," she muttered, now hesitant to touch him at all so she held her breath and bit lightly on her lip, rolling over on her side to face him, "maybe if it were your little sister out there, you would understand."
"I don’t have a little sister," he said poignantly, the back of his right arm resting over his eyes.
Cameron chucked nervously and cringed, "Okay…your mom?"
House lifted his arm, squeezed his eyes shut and crunched up his face, "Yeah, yeah, yeah…I get it."
He let her take his left hand in both of hers and she stood his arm up on his elbow between them. She lazily placed her palm flat against his, mirroring it, her mind wondering what she could do to make this up to him. She would have never done this to him intentionally - she hoped he knew that.
"I’m sorry about earlier, too," she said, looking at her hand, sizing it up to his, "I shouldn’t have messed with you like that," she said quietly, "I didn’t mean to…"
He turned and questioned her with his eyes, wanting her to finish what she was saying.
She locked her eyes onto his, "I miss you. I swear, if Sam wasn’t here…" she added with a controlled amount of desperation in her voice.
Cameron didn’t see him smile, but his face softened, and she got lost in his eyes. She finally looked back at her hand on his and said, "I love your hands. They’re so…" Cameron searched for an eloquent word but nothing came to her, "big." She shifted her eyes towards him and smiled lightly at the overly simplistic description, but he was watching her fingers fail to come anywhere near stretching to the end of his.
She struggled to keep herself from coming out and telling him how she felt; how she was in love with him, all of him. But she was afraid he would pull his head back into his emotional shell. She could barely see it, as it was. She finally slid her fingers in between his, squeezing his hand. A warm sensation radiated through her chest when he squeezed hers as well. She tucked their hands between them and rolled into him. She slid her hand under his shirt, lightly rubbing her fingers on his bare skin and resting her head on his shoulder.
They both waited silently for the first signs of sleepiness to finally set in. House’s chest began slightly raising and falling methodically leading her to believe he might already be asleep when he asked, "Can you just go ahead and touch my leg?" He hesitated and Cameron was a little puzzled wondering if he might say anything else, "I want to get this over with."
Cameron closed her eyes feeling relieved, "Sure," she answered before he could mistakenly detect any reluctance.
She shifted her head down to his chest and moved her hand from his stomach down past his hip and rested it on the upper part of his right thigh. All she could feel was the slick nylon sock that he needed to wear to keep it from swelling.
House let go of her other hand and sat up just enough to roll it off. Then he reached for her hand and placed it back on his leg; further down this time so she could feel the healing scars. His skin was smooth and stretched tight. She could feel the lines of raised tissue where they had sewn him back together. She recalled the blisters being mostly on the outside area of this thigh, so she tried to avoid touching him there; not wanting to cause any unnecessary pain.
Cameron left her hand lying casually on his thigh and closed her eyes, finally feeling sleepy. Her arm was resting across his groin where she could sense the lasting results of his earlier intentions, and the guilty pang returned.
"Sunday for sure?" House asked quietly.
"I promise," she answered.
Next Chapter - click here
Title: Broken
Chapter: 11
Previous Chapters: just go to my LJ - they're all there.
Prequel: Happiness
Rating: Adult
Pairings: House/Cameron
Spoilers: Early Season 3
Again
bmax67 this wouldn't be half as fun without you and all the great input! Thanks to
phineyj for stepping in on this one too - you're absolutely incredible. :)
I'm going on vacation next week so it's going to be a while before I post again...just so ya know!
Ok Tiff....the clock starts.................................................now! lol
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Chapter 11
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It felt good to be sitting at his piano again. No matter what happened in his life, it had always been a consistent friend. The eighty-eight keys never changed regardless of the packaging. Sometimes the piano came in the form of his beautiful black baby grand; sometimes the old upright that had been donated to the hospital chapel by the widow of a former patient. They never questioned his choices, never stated the obvious like how downing a couple Vicodin and chasing them with a mouthful of Scotch was a bad idea. They always did exactly as they were told and in return they gave a sound that could round off the ends of even the roughest, shittiest day. Of course it helped that watching him play the piano was a big turn-on for Cameron. She had her own ways of softening the edges of his shitty days, too.
He knew how disappointed she was when she walked out of his room, when he couldn’t bring himself to simply tell her what was really going on. How it wasn’t about her but it was about his inadequacies. Even before he’d lost his leg he felt she should be with someone younger, nicer…someone who was at least whole or wasn’t emotionally stunted.
House, no matter how hard he tried, couldn’t fight the demon that whispered in his ear every day since they’d been together. Telling him this wouldn’t last, she wouldn’t last, the novelty or rebellious taste of it would soon get stale for her and he’d be left alone again, and more broken than he already was. The voice counseled him, telling him that the way to prevent that, of course, was to not let himself fall. Not let himself trust her. Keep up his defenses and no one would get hurt. At least, he wouldn’t. If she got hurt it would be her own damn fault. It wasn’t like she hadn’t known know what she was getting herself into.
As much as these things went around in his mind, it didn’t keep him from noticing a cavity that was forming inside him. The frightening thing about it was that everything about Cameron fit perfectly into it. If she were to leave, it would be empty and would leave him with another painful void. Weaker people might call it need, but House just called it dangerous.
Ever since the wreck, he kept finding himself in this same debate. He didn’t want this to end but if it were to continue it only made the danger more treacherous. This had all been kept on a comfortably superficial level until four weeks ago. There was an unspoken understanding that they were exclusive but so far their relationship had just kind of existed, happened naturally…coasted. But now they had obviously turned the page.
When Cameron had offered to leave and go back to her place for the weekend, a lump got stuck in House’s throat. He knew he didn’t want her to go, but nothing about it felt rational. Any other time he would have welcomed the peace and quiet. House never reasoned on feelings; the only things that dictated his thoughts were logic and science, and until recently, opiates. But this time, as irrational as it seemed, he knew he needed her to stay, he needed to give her just enough to convince her not to go. Of course all he’d had to offer her was what he didn’t want. He didn’t want her leaving.
House’s thoughts returned to his piano and becoming acquainted with it again. Playing a few lines of this, then a few lines of that, trying to adjust to operating the pedals with his left foot. His piano playing was a natural extension of himself so the awkwardness of having his right foot missing made it all feel new. For the first time in a very long time it required some conscious effort again, like everything else did now, it seemed.
House had begun to lose himself in the sounds emanating from the instrument, relaxing him as his fingers moved naturally and gently across the keys. Meanwhile Cameron and Sam put the groceries away. Cameron came to the doorway and House looked over at her and asked, "Why are you doing that?" nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen, "Isn’t that what he’s here for?"
Cameron tilted her head slightly to the side, gave him a look that said ‘I heard you the first twelve times when you reminded me why Sam’s here’, then asked, "Is Wilson coming over?"
"Supposed to be."
Cameron turned to go back into the kitchen before House added over the sound of the piano, "And he’s supposed to be bringing pizza," as he played a couple more chords.
The rest of the evening went pretty much as House expected it would. His leg hurt like hell until he finally sat down on the couch and put the towel and ice pack Cameron had prepared on the sore area. The ibuprofen also helped take the edge off and at least stopped the throbbing. The areas where it was rubbing raw weren’t going to just go away though. Ben had been right about taking it easy at first and House just hoped he could get his prosthetic back on sometime tomorrow.
Trusty Wilson showed up with pizza. As predicted it had extra green pepper, which House hated. It was Wilson’s annoyingly passive aggressive way of reminding House who always paid for the pizza. He wished he could learn to like peppers just to piss Wilson off but he figured he’d just pick something new and equally distasteful to put on it. Hell, House wouldn’t put it past Wilson to try to convince someone to put pickles on it. Then he’d have two things to pick off and dramatically turn his nose up at, and that would just be too much work.
Sam and Wilson hit it off, of course. Sam spoke idealistically like any real-world newbie would about his new job with the pharmaceutical company and how he was going to change the world. House tried to straighten him out on the ins and outs of big business politics and bottom lines but it didn’t seem to get through. This was totally predictable when it concerned a recent graduate and someone not unlike Cameron. Sam wanted to save the world and Cameron had just wanted to save House - both equally impossible to achieve. However, House had felt, and welcomed, her cynicism about the matter as it settled in over time.
Cameron was falling asleep on the end of the couch, her leg brace lying on the floor next to her. Wilson started gathering empty beer bottles while Sam picked up the pizza box, stacked the empty ice-cream bowls and took them into the kitchen. House nudged Cameron in the feet knowing she wouldn’t want to miss saying goodbye and that she needed to get up off the couch and go to bed.
Wilson came out of the kitchen and stood in the living room, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
"I’ve missed this," he admitted, sheepishly.
"Why don’t you go home so you can miss it again then?" House sniped, deflecting Wilson’s sentimentality.
"Thanks for coming over, Wilson," Cameron added as she slowly sat up and stretched a little, adding mid-yawn, "and for the pizza."
Wilson pulled his keys out of his pocket, "If you guys need anything tomorrow just give me a call."
"Thanks." Cameron repeated as Wilson walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
Cameron looked over at House who was leaning his head against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, "Sam can get you some more ice."
He lifted his head and looked at her, "I hope this swelling goes down by tomorrow or I’m going to be stuck with those crutches all day."
Cameron yelled towards the kitchen, "Hey, can you get House some more ice?" then added, "The bags are in the second drawer by the fridge."
Cameron pushed herself up, trying not to put too much weight on her knee without her brace and told House she was going to bed. House grabbed his crutches with the towel clutched in one hand and pulled himself up. Cameron limped heavily into the kitchen, went up behind Sam and gave him a bear hug from behind, saying, "Thanks Sammy," while House watched curiously from the doorway. Sam turned around and gave her a proper hug and answered, "I’m just glad I could help you guys out."
Sam spotted House watching and added, "Even him," nodding in his direction.
Cameron pulled away and faked her surprise at Sam and then at House, "What’s this? Did you guys become BFFs after I fell asleep?"
With that House scoffed at both of them and thump-shuffled himself down the hall to the bedroom. Sam turned back to Cameron and said, "Hey Al…even in all this shit I can see how happy you are. I guess I have to assume he’s got something to do with that," he finished reluctantly.
Cameron smiled and jumped up slightly, guarding her right leg, and kissed him on the cheek, "Thanks Sam," she said again then took the bag of ice and left the kitchen.
Cameron stopped off at the bathroom then limped into the bedroom finding House sitting on the edge of the bed looking closely at his leg, lightly touching the red parts that were starting to blister.
"Do you want some antibiotics or anything?" she asked, handing him the ice.
"Maybe I should…if this gets infected I’ll be on those damn crutches even longer," he said, still examining his leg.
She returned to the bathroom and came back with a tube of Neosporin. She walked over and handed it to him, "Listen…" He looked up at her.
"About earlier…" she started, as he took the tube and made a point of looking back at his leg.
"I’m not avoiding your leg…I’m just waiting on you," she paused but he didn’t look up, "I don’t want you to misunderstand that."
"Got it," House said shortly and started smoothing the cream on various parts of his leg.
Cameron turned on the light by the bed then turned off the main light. She limped around to the other side and crawled in. House spent a few more moments putting the antibiotics on his leg then rolled the black nylon sock back on, hoping to get the swelling down by tomorrow. He picked up the bag of ice and the towel then clicked off the light and settled down beside her.
Cameron saw the ice still in his hand and reached for it carefully, looking at him, questioning him without saying a word. He let go and handed her the towel. House lay on his back watching her as she pulled the sheet down and started to lift the leg of his shorts.
"Do you want to take these off?" she asked.
"Cameron," he scolded playfully out of the side of his mouth, "your little brother is on the other side of that door."
"Settle down, tiger," she laughed out, "I just thought…" she stopped mid-sentence when he took the waistband of his shorts in both hands, lifted his hips and pushed them down. Cameron helped him once he got them as far as he could without sitting up. She realized how much easier this was now. Before, when either of them were particularly anxious, they’d spend the better part of their short period of foreplay just trying to get the damn things off while trying not to bump his leg and cause more pain than he was already in.
"Hey, no more voracious sex while you’re stuck with your jeans around your knees. I like this," she joked seductively,
"Right," he drew out sarcastically, "now I just have to get my jeans and my new leg off."
"Aw shit, you’re right," Cameron immediately felt like an idiot even trying to joke about that.
"From here on out you need to give me at least fifteen minutes warning before you jump me," he said with very little humor or enthusiasm.
"You’ll figure something out. You always do," she raised her eyebrows and grinned, trying to recover from her stupid attempt at some humor.
She completely removed his shorts and dropped them to the floor, exposing his boxer briefs. She straightened the towel out over his leg then evened out the bag of ice and gently placed it on top of it. She pulled the sheet up as she scooted up close to him all in one motion.
While she settled down, he pulled his arm out from under her and put it around her, pulling her up to him so he could kiss her. She placed her hand on the side of his face and kissed him back, slowly and gently but at the first request of his tongue Cameron pushed herself up on her elbow and slid her body over his left side. She tried being careful to straddle only his good leg and not accidentally nudge his right one - something that already came naturally to her.
"Easy tiger," he mocked lightly back at her, "don’t be cruel and start something you’re not gonna let me finish."
"Like what?" she grinned at him while she lightly pressed her thigh into his groin.
"Yeah," he held his breath and grunted out, "like that."
She kissed him again, easing off on the pressure below and reminded him, "Sam goes home on Sunday."
"Wanna take bets on how quickly I can get you off after he leaves?" he gave her an evil grin.
Cameron’s shocked laugh came out her nose and she snorted before she had the chance to even open her mouth, "You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?" She loved it when he talked like that and meant it, and he knew it. One more comment like that and something was going to happen that would keep her from looking Sam in the eye come tomorrow morning.
"Nope, I’m a guy. What do you expect?" he answered, finally lifting his hands to her back and sliding them under her shirt. She felt his fingers slowly slide down her back, resting on her ass and squeezing it.
"You know," she started, "something that I’m really fond of happens to be right next to that leg we’ve both been avoiding." She grinned hesitantly at him.
"I thought you weren’t avoiding it," he countered.
Cameron just tilted her head and looked at him, playfully annoyed.
"Is that going to be a problem?" he asked a little defensively.
"Not for me…" Cameron baited him.
House just closed his eyes and didn’t answer.
"I really do wish I could read your mind; well that’s not completely true," she deflected with a chuckle and he opened his eyes to look at her again, "but we just might have to get past this before…" Her voice intentionally dropped off knowing her point was loud and clear.
"It’s ugly," he finally admitted, but Cameron knew there was more to it than that. In fact, she could practically read his mind but what she saw wasn’t something she thought he’d be real comfortable hearing from her.
"It’s a leg…with a scar…that will heal." She immediately knew she’d over-simplified that but she didn’t want this conversation to just die. Now that they were finally talking about it, she wanted it settled.
"That is not a leg," he said forcefully, "and it’s not going to heal."
Cameron folded her hands across his chest and rested her chin on them, "I’m sorry."
House closed his eyes again and said quietly, "I don’t want you to avoid it anymore."
"Okay," she answered simply, resting her cheek on his chest as House wrapped his arms around her body once again.
That wasn’t quite all she was looking for but considering it was House she knew it was a step forward so that was enough. She never imagined a relationship could progress so slowly but he was here with her, which is something she had begun to question would happen again in the days right after the accident. So she couldn’t really ask for anything more.
They both lay there in the quiet darkness for a while. They could hear the muted mumble of the TV coming from the living room and see the soft flicker of the light through the crack under the door. Even though Cameron had fallen asleep on the couch earlier, she felt wide awake now. Tired but awake, and she could tell by House’s breathing that he was still awake too.
"Are you sleepy?" she asked, still lying on his chest.
"Tired…not really sleepy, why?"
"Sam told me today you were fishing around for details about what my parents said when they were here." She lifted her head to look at him and saw a little guilt creep across his face.
"I should have figured the little runt would squeal," he mumbled.
"It’s okay. I should have told you about it a long time ago," she paused, "it’s just we never…" and her voice trailed off hoping he would interrupt her but he didn’t. He just looked intently at her. "We never did a lot of sharing about our lives before I came to Princeton," she finished.
"I thought maybe I’d just go ahead and tell you if you want to hear it," she said.
"You’ve kind of got me trapped here. Do I have much choice?" he grinned.
Cameron started to move off him, but he slid his hands to her hips and kept her there. She looked at him seriously and tried again. This time he let her. She rolled off him and onto her back. House reached under the sheets and held up the bag of ice while he turned onto his left side to face her, then balanced the ice back on his leg. He folded one arm under his pillow and rested his other arm across her stomach.
Cameron wasn’t sure about this. Many times when he’d been exceptionally cruel to her at work or when certain patients’ circumstances came up, she was glad House didn’t have this in his arsenal to use against her. Little did he know that a couple of times he had almost hit the nerve right on the head without even knowing it. But her parents had started it and now she felt she needed to finish it. It was better than House poking around who knows where trying to find out for himself. It might as well come from her.
"It was the evening after my last exam," she started. "A bunch of us went out to celebrate and a group of us had done some student teaching so some of our professors came along. We were done with med school and we were on top of the world," she turned to him and grinned nervously, "I’m sure you remember how that felt."
She looked away from him and continued, "Dr Branham had taken an interest in me early on and I’d spent most of my time working under him," then she admitted, "I was attracted to him."
House interrupted her, "Let me guess…grumpy old bastard type?" He grinned at her predictability.
"Old, maybe," she turned her head again and caught his expression, "but you’re my first grumpy bastard." She playfully acted like she was serious, but she was relieved by the humor. She was still feeling anxious about going down this road but she didn’t want to turn back. If she expected House to learn to trust her, she needed to do this.
"We had met some of their families through social events. Dr Branham even had a bunch of us over to his place on the Fourth of July once. He had a nice house in the country on a lake…a wife…couple kids…" her voice trailed off and she stopped for a moment, regaining her courage while House continued to listen, keeping an attentive eye on her.
"I had a few too many, I guess. I couldn’t hold my beers then like I can now," she turned back to him grinning, aware that he knew damn well she couldn’t hold them now either. She was failing miserably at masking the difficulty she was having. There wasn’t one emotion she owned that she could hide from him.
She turned away and took a slow deep breath, "I don’t remember many of the details, but my friends assured me it wasn’t all his doing. I woke up in my apartment hung over and alone, and never saw him again," she paused then added, "Which was appropriate I guess. Not that I wanted to face him."
Cameron was quiet for a while and so was House. His undivided, quiet, attention was making an already uncomfortable situation worse. He lightly rubbed the material of the shirt she was wearing, encouraging her to go on. She knew him well enough to know that as soon as her mom had mentioned it, he would be curious about it. Frankly, she was surprised he’d waited this long to say anything.
"It wasn’t long after when we found out my best friend Blake’s, thyroid cancer had metastasized to his brain." She looked at him, watching for his reaction. This was the part of the story House always thought he knew the ending to. It had always been easier just to let him believe what he wanted to rather than telling him the truth, and there was a time when she couldn’t have trusted him, but she needed to now.
"Of course it wasn’t long until I figured out I was pregnant," she looked into the darkness and closed her eyes.
"Fresh out of med school, starting up my residency…my best friend was dying, and I was pregnant as the result of a drunken night of stupidity. Blake and Sam were the only ones who knew the truth. All hell would have broken loose had my parents found out. They would have never let me forget how I’d disgraced their precious image," she finished in a slightly bitter tone.
She turned to look at him again, but his eyes were closed. She started to turn on her side to face him but thought better of it when her ribs gently reminded her they weren’t quite ready for that yet.
"Getting married was Blake’s idea. His prognosis was terminal. So we just let every body, including my parents, assume…" her voice fell off. She lay quiet for a few moments more then finished, "He wasn’t a charity case…I didn’t need to fix him. I was the damn charity case."
That phrase always took Cameron back to Café Spoleto two years past and the things he’d said as a result of her backing him into a corner. She turned to him and watched while he lay there quietly with his eyes tightly closed like he was recalling the same painful conversation. Making him feel bad wasn’t what she had intended so she didn’t waste any time moving away from that awful memory.
"A month later Blake died," her voice was clamped and she stopped for a minute feeling her eyes starting to well. She looked over at House and felt a tear roll slowly out of the corner of her eye, and she quickly lifted her hand and wiped it away, foolishly trying to hide it. He was watching her - his eyes were soft. He slid his hand across her stomach and to her side, encouraging her to move closer to him…so she did.
"I made three different appointments at three separate clinics and couldn’t bring myself to show up to any of them," she continued. "That’s when I decided if there was a God like my parents had drilled into my head since I was a kid, that there’s no way he could give a damn about the details of my life. I had no idea what I was going to do."
She turned and looked back up into the darkness above them, "Then one night I woke up cramping and I knew what was happening," she stopped then said quietly, "and I didn’t try to stop it…not that I could have."
"I cried for three days after that…not because I’d lost it, but because I’d wanted to. It made me question everything I thought I knew about myself."
Cameron rolled over, scooted back into him and he wrapped his arm tight around her. Things were quiet for longer than what was comfortable for Cameron. Now, she really wished she could read his mind. She knew he was thinking; she just wished she could predict his reaction. But it didn’t really matter now.
"Do you want to have kids someday?" House finally asked quietly.
That was a question she’d never thought she’d hear him ask…a question she’d never wanted him to ask.
"I’m not sure I deserve any," she answered honestly.
It took a moment for House to respond and when he did, he let go of her just long enough to brush the hair away from her neck; he kissed her and said quietly against her skin, "That’s not true."
Cameron just lay there on his pillow up against him, feeling his warm breath on her neck, trying to feel relieved that it was over. She could feel herself trembling slightly and knew he could probably feel it too.
House moved his hand from her stomach, casually touching her breast and mumbled directly in her ear, "You know…if all Dunbars sleep half as deep as you do, he’ll never hear a thing."
Cameron chuckled and could feel her body move against his, "I don’t care…I can’t." His warm breath in her ear sent chills up and down her spine. If he was trying to relax her, he was doing a damn good job of it. She was glad they weren’t going to lay there and dwell on her past or worse yet, House lay there and say nothing.
"C’mon," he whined.
"Listen," he silently held his breath for a moment, "he’s out cold. The TV isn’t even on anymore."
"All the more reason…" she lost her breath and her train of thought when he lifted her shirt and pressed firmly on her breast and kissed her neck again, running his tongue down to her shoulder.
"No!" she laughed out then sighed involuntarily.
"That doesn’t sound very convincing," he argued.
Cameron turned onto her back so he could see her face and know she was serious about this. But without looking into her eyes, he leaned into her and started kissing her and she knew she had just made a very bad move. She felt the ice pack fall from his leg and land between hers. The sensation of the cold plastic against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh made her quickly draw a breath from his.
She felt House smile against her lips as his hand deviously traveled down her side, across her leg and she heard the ice cubes rattle together and slosh around in the cold water as he took it in his hand. Cameron felt the icy cold slowly travel upwards, practically keeping her from breathing at all. She bit her bottom lip trying very hard not to turn the corner where there was no turning back.
"That’s cold," she whined softly.
House pulled away from her, looked seductively into her eyes and raised his eyebrows, "I know."
Cameron put her hand on his and took the bag away, dropping it to the floor.
He lifted her shirt higher and started to dip down towards her breasts, when Cameron put one hand on each side of his face and pulled it squarely in front of hers. His eyes were closed and he had a hesitant grin on his face that said ‘if I don’t look at you, you can’t tell me no’. She just held him there until he dared to peek at her with only one eye.
"I said no," she dragged out slowly, trying so hard to be firm but she wasn’t sure how strong she could be. God, she missed him…and this.
"You’re no fun," he finally resigned and he fell down on his back next to her.
"I’ll remember that on Sunday," she grinned and looked at him but he wasn’t smiling.
Cameron watched him, waiting for him to turn and smile at her showing the playful mood he was in, but he didn’t.
Shit.
Here they were, the closest thing in weeks to being completely alone with no chance of anyone walking in on them and he still can’t touch her like he obviously wanted to. Like she definitely wanted him to - more than he would probably believe right now because combined with the issues earlier with his leg, she was sure he was lying there battling his insecurities…again.
"House…I’m sorry," she muttered, now hesitant to touch him at all so she held her breath and bit lightly on her lip, rolling over on her side to face him, "maybe if it were your little sister out there, you would understand."
"I don’t have a little sister," he said poignantly, the back of his right arm resting over his eyes.
Cameron chucked nervously and cringed, "Okay…your mom?"
House lifted his arm, squeezed his eyes shut and crunched up his face, "Yeah, yeah, yeah…I get it."
He let her take his left hand in both of hers and she stood his arm up on his elbow between them. She lazily placed her palm flat against his, mirroring it, her mind wondering what she could do to make this up to him. She would have never done this to him intentionally - she hoped he knew that.
"I’m sorry about earlier, too," she said, looking at her hand, sizing it up to his, "I shouldn’t have messed with you like that," she said quietly, "I didn’t mean to…"
He turned and questioned her with his eyes, wanting her to finish what she was saying.
She locked her eyes onto his, "I miss you. I swear, if Sam wasn’t here…" she added with a controlled amount of desperation in her voice.
Cameron didn’t see him smile, but his face softened, and she got lost in his eyes. She finally looked back at her hand on his and said, "I love your hands. They’re so…" Cameron searched for an eloquent word but nothing came to her, "big." She shifted her eyes towards him and smiled lightly at the overly simplistic description, but he was watching her fingers fail to come anywhere near stretching to the end of his.
She struggled to keep herself from coming out and telling him how she felt; how she was in love with him, all of him. But she was afraid he would pull his head back into his emotional shell. She could barely see it, as it was. She finally slid her fingers in between his, squeezing his hand. A warm sensation radiated through her chest when he squeezed hers as well. She tucked their hands between them and rolled into him. She slid her hand under his shirt, lightly rubbing her fingers on his bare skin and resting her head on his shoulder.
They both waited silently for the first signs of sleepiness to finally set in. House’s chest began slightly raising and falling methodically leading her to believe he might already be asleep when he asked, "Can you just go ahead and touch my leg?" He hesitated and Cameron was a little puzzled wondering if he might say anything else, "I want to get this over with."
Cameron closed her eyes feeling relieved, "Sure," she answered before he could mistakenly detect any reluctance.
She shifted her head down to his chest and moved her hand from his stomach down past his hip and rested it on the upper part of his right thigh. All she could feel was the slick nylon sock that he needed to wear to keep it from swelling.
House let go of her other hand and sat up just enough to roll it off. Then he reached for her hand and placed it back on his leg; further down this time so she could feel the healing scars. His skin was smooth and stretched tight. She could feel the lines of raised tissue where they had sewn him back together. She recalled the blisters being mostly on the outside area of this thigh, so she tried to avoid touching him there; not wanting to cause any unnecessary pain.
Cameron left her hand lying casually on his thigh and closed her eyes, finally feeling sleepy. Her arm was resting across his groin where she could sense the lasting results of his earlier intentions, and the guilty pang returned.
"Sunday for sure?" House asked quietly.
"I promise," she answered.
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