(no subject)
TITLE: Eradication 16/16
AUTHOR: dragynflies
PAIRING: Cameron/House, Cameron/OC
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: You’re too angry to think, angry that she’s kept something from you when you’ve been nothing but supportive of absolutely everything that’s happened that it takes you a solid minute to comprehend what is on the documents.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Don’t sue.
The first day of November, you wake up on the couch with Cameron still in your lap, the bowl of Halloween candy overturned on the floor and the candy spilled everywhere. One of your legs is asleep and the other hurts more than you want to admit, and Cameron’s head is on your chest. She is sound asleep and you move as slowly as you can, carefully inching the prescription bottle from your pocket. You swallow the pill dry and carefully shift Cameron on your lap.
You don’t know when the two of you finally fell asleep, in between the kisses and the gentle words. You hadn’t slept together, not in the figurative sense, but you were open and honest and you talked to her, something you never used to do.
You can hear Blythe chattering to Dora in her room, and you carefully lift Cameron off your lap and pick up your cane, moving slowly to your daughter’s room.
“Morning, Blythe,” you greet her, sitting down on the bed while she plays on the floor.
“Mornin’ daddy,” she beams, “Did you sleep good with mama on the couch?”
Sometimes you hate that your daughter pays attention to things.
You nod a little uncomfortably and wait for her to continue speaking, because you know she’s going to.
Blythe moves Dora around on the carpet for awhile, then looks at you again, “Do you love mama?”
There it is. The million-dollar question. You’re not sure how to answer it so you settle for pure honestly, “Yeah, I do.”
Blythe squeals happily and crawls into your lap, and you’re astonished again that your little girl is so easily able to maneuver around the site of your infarction, even though she never seems to notice.
She is serious now, looking at you and you give her a little half smile to encourage her to say whatever is on her mind.
“Are we going to be a family?” she asks, and you catch the note of suspicion in her voice.
“What’s wrong, Blythe? Don’t you want…”
“You’re not Nathan’s real daddy,” she says, like that explains everything and really, it does.
“No,” you say, “I’m not Nathan’s biological father. Do you know what biological means?”
“That means genes,” she says, “You get genes from your mommy and your daddy. Genes make you look like your family.”
You’re speechless for a moment, and you gape at your daughter, “Right,” you say slowly, because you can’t believe she knows that, “and that can mean real. But real can also be because of other things,” you try to explain, “I love Nathan so much that it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have my genes. I love him just as much as you.”
Blythe looks like she’s starting to understand, “But…then why didn’t my daddy love me?” she asks in a small voice, and your heart breaks.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” you tell her honestly, wrapping your arms around her, “I don’t know. But we say that is his loss, because you are so amazing, Blythe, and he’s the one missing out.”
She nods and tucks her head under your chin, a perfect mimic of her mother, “Okay. If you promise me that you love Nathan, then it’s okay with me if we’re a family.”
You smile against her soft curls, “Thank you, Blythe.”
*************
November passes in a flurry, and you and Cameron settle into a comfortable relationship. Nothing really changes; you’ve already shared a bed for four months, and you are not only Blythe’s, but Nathan’s father too, in every sense that you are able.
The day before Thanksgiving, Cameron gets a huge envelope in the mail. It’s the divorce papers, and they are signed. She is shaking so hard she can’t even get the rest of the papers out of the envelope, so you take it from her hands and help her. Robert’s suit for full custody was denied, and instead he’s to have every other weekend with Nathan and absolutely no contact with Blythe.
To celebrate, you take the children to Dairy Queen for ice cream. You’re halfway through your ice cream cone, watching Blythe carefully feed small bites to Nathan when it hits you that this is your life. This is reality.
You think you could cry.
December means decorating your apartment for Christmas for the first time since Stacy, and you let Blythe put the ornaments on the tree. It leads for a very disorganized tree with not a lot of ornaments towards the top, but you really don’t care. Cameron lifts her to put the angel on the tree, and Blythe is laughing so hard she can barely balance the angel.
You’re flipping through the mail when you see an official looking envelope from the court, and you rip it open, terrified that your life is about to come crashing down. Cameron comes into the room, Nathan on her hip, and snatches the letter from you before you can read it.
“What is it?” you practically shout, no longer surprised at the fear that wells up inside of you at the thought that something could change.
“Nothing,” she tries, tucking the letter between herself and Nathan and trying to make an escape.
“Allison,” you snap, “If that’s something that concerns you or our children, I need to know. I need to know what’s going on!”
She sighs, and nods, setting Nathan down at her feet, “It was for Christmas,” she mumbles apologetically, handing you the letter.
You’re too angry to think, angry that she’s kept something from you when you’ve been nothing but supportive of absolutely everything that’s happened that it takes you a solid minute to comprehend what is on the documents. Finally, three words seem to pop out at you from the paper.
Blythe Cameron House
The documents fall out of your hand and you stare at Cameron. You don’t cry. You don’t, especially not in front of her, you tell yourself. You move on autopilot and wrap your arms around her and she squeaks in surprise as your arms tighten around her.
“Marry me.”
She pulls back, and now it is her turn to gape at you. Not the reaction she was expecting, but you don’t care. You’ve had the ring in your coat pocket for two weeks, waiting for the right moment, and now its here.
She holds out a trembling hand, smiling and crying all at once and you slide the diamond onto her finger. Nathan claps on the floor, laughing, and Blythe wanders in, “What’s going on?”
Her eyes flit to her mother, and she glares at you, “You made mama cry!” she shouts and runs to Cameron.
Cameron laughs and scoops up Blythe in her arms, “No, baby, Daddy didn’t make me cry. Not bad cry,” she explains, “Good cry.”
Blythe seems to know what she means, and she hugs her tightly, then twists in Cameron’s arms and launches herself at you. You catch her in one arm, stumbling back a little but managing to retain your balance.
“Will you be our flower girl?” you ask her, kissing her nose, and she agrees, delighted. She wraps her little arms tighter around you and kisses your cheeks, “Now we’re going to be a family forever!” she shrieks, delighted.
“Yeah,” you mumble against her hair, your eyes on Cameron’s, “Yeah, we are.”
AUTHOR: dragynflies
PAIRING: Cameron/House, Cameron/OC
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: You’re too angry to think, angry that she’s kept something from you when you’ve been nothing but supportive of absolutely everything that’s happened that it takes you a solid minute to comprehend what is on the documents.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Don’t sue.
The first day of November, you wake up on the couch with Cameron still in your lap, the bowl of Halloween candy overturned on the floor and the candy spilled everywhere. One of your legs is asleep and the other hurts more than you want to admit, and Cameron’s head is on your chest. She is sound asleep and you move as slowly as you can, carefully inching the prescription bottle from your pocket. You swallow the pill dry and carefully shift Cameron on your lap.
You don’t know when the two of you finally fell asleep, in between the kisses and the gentle words. You hadn’t slept together, not in the figurative sense, but you were open and honest and you talked to her, something you never used to do.
You can hear Blythe chattering to Dora in her room, and you carefully lift Cameron off your lap and pick up your cane, moving slowly to your daughter’s room.
“Morning, Blythe,” you greet her, sitting down on the bed while she plays on the floor.
“Mornin’ daddy,” she beams, “Did you sleep good with mama on the couch?”
Sometimes you hate that your daughter pays attention to things.
You nod a little uncomfortably and wait for her to continue speaking, because you know she’s going to.
Blythe moves Dora around on the carpet for awhile, then looks at you again, “Do you love mama?”
There it is. The million-dollar question. You’re not sure how to answer it so you settle for pure honestly, “Yeah, I do.”
Blythe squeals happily and crawls into your lap, and you’re astonished again that your little girl is so easily able to maneuver around the site of your infarction, even though she never seems to notice.
She is serious now, looking at you and you give her a little half smile to encourage her to say whatever is on her mind.
“Are we going to be a family?” she asks, and you catch the note of suspicion in her voice.
“What’s wrong, Blythe? Don’t you want…”
“You’re not Nathan’s real daddy,” she says, like that explains everything and really, it does.
“No,” you say, “I’m not Nathan’s biological father. Do you know what biological means?”
“That means genes,” she says, “You get genes from your mommy and your daddy. Genes make you look like your family.”
You’re speechless for a moment, and you gape at your daughter, “Right,” you say slowly, because you can’t believe she knows that, “and that can mean real. But real can also be because of other things,” you try to explain, “I love Nathan so much that it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have my genes. I love him just as much as you.”
Blythe looks like she’s starting to understand, “But…then why didn’t my daddy love me?” she asks in a small voice, and your heart breaks.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” you tell her honestly, wrapping your arms around her, “I don’t know. But we say that is his loss, because you are so amazing, Blythe, and he’s the one missing out.”
She nods and tucks her head under your chin, a perfect mimic of her mother, “Okay. If you promise me that you love Nathan, then it’s okay with me if we’re a family.”
You smile against her soft curls, “Thank you, Blythe.”
*************
November passes in a flurry, and you and Cameron settle into a comfortable relationship. Nothing really changes; you’ve already shared a bed for four months, and you are not only Blythe’s, but Nathan’s father too, in every sense that you are able.
The day before Thanksgiving, Cameron gets a huge envelope in the mail. It’s the divorce papers, and they are signed. She is shaking so hard she can’t even get the rest of the papers out of the envelope, so you take it from her hands and help her. Robert’s suit for full custody was denied, and instead he’s to have every other weekend with Nathan and absolutely no contact with Blythe.
To celebrate, you take the children to Dairy Queen for ice cream. You’re halfway through your ice cream cone, watching Blythe carefully feed small bites to Nathan when it hits you that this is your life. This is reality.
You think you could cry.
December means decorating your apartment for Christmas for the first time since Stacy, and you let Blythe put the ornaments on the tree. It leads for a very disorganized tree with not a lot of ornaments towards the top, but you really don’t care. Cameron lifts her to put the angel on the tree, and Blythe is laughing so hard she can barely balance the angel.
You’re flipping through the mail when you see an official looking envelope from the court, and you rip it open, terrified that your life is about to come crashing down. Cameron comes into the room, Nathan on her hip, and snatches the letter from you before you can read it.
“What is it?” you practically shout, no longer surprised at the fear that wells up inside of you at the thought that something could change.
“Nothing,” she tries, tucking the letter between herself and Nathan and trying to make an escape.
“Allison,” you snap, “If that’s something that concerns you or our children, I need to know. I need to know what’s going on!”
She sighs, and nods, setting Nathan down at her feet, “It was for Christmas,” she mumbles apologetically, handing you the letter.
You’re too angry to think, angry that she’s kept something from you when you’ve been nothing but supportive of absolutely everything that’s happened that it takes you a solid minute to comprehend what is on the documents. Finally, three words seem to pop out at you from the paper.
Blythe Cameron House
The documents fall out of your hand and you stare at Cameron. You don’t cry. You don’t, especially not in front of her, you tell yourself. You move on autopilot and wrap your arms around her and she squeaks in surprise as your arms tighten around her.
“Marry me.”
She pulls back, and now it is her turn to gape at you. Not the reaction she was expecting, but you don’t care. You’ve had the ring in your coat pocket for two weeks, waiting for the right moment, and now its here.
She holds out a trembling hand, smiling and crying all at once and you slide the diamond onto her finger. Nathan claps on the floor, laughing, and Blythe wanders in, “What’s going on?”
Her eyes flit to her mother, and she glares at you, “You made mama cry!” she shouts and runs to Cameron.
Cameron laughs and scoops up Blythe in her arms, “No, baby, Daddy didn’t make me cry. Not bad cry,” she explains, “Good cry.”
Blythe seems to know what she means, and she hugs her tightly, then twists in Cameron’s arms and launches herself at you. You catch her in one arm, stumbling back a little but managing to retain your balance.
“Will you be our flower girl?” you ask her, kissing her nose, and she agrees, delighted. She wraps her little arms tighter around you and kisses your cheeks, “Now we’re going to be a family forever!” she shrieks, delighted.
“Yeah,” you mumble against her hair, your eyes on Cameron’s, “Yeah, we are.”