house/cameron fic "Hunger" Ch.1
I wrote some Cam!angst. Posted it in House/Cameron as it might eventually develop into that in later chapters.
It's just angsty right now but they all seem bitter over there anyway and I'm as miserable as can be and maybe I'm translating myself through Cam in this. I don't know. But I wrote it and it didn't help me and my fingers still feel shaky, but I'm posting it here.
Cameron's lungs were starting to burn. She could feel her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. She was running. Fast, and hard. Her tennish shoes pounded into the rubber of her treadmill and she tried, she tried to make everything go away. To force all the bitterness and anger out of her, all the sickness and bile. But the more she ran the sicker she got. She had a stitch in her side and she couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd eaten.
That part felt good.
It'd been going on like this for weeks. Maybe months. She felt numb, she couldn't feel. Her fling with Chase was doing nothing to change that. So a while back she'd switched to not eating. It made her feel powerful, gave her a semblance of control. The first couple of weeks she'd felt great. She felt like she had all the power in the world, and as she watched the number on the scale drop, pound after pound, she'd felt herself fading away. But more and more lately she'd felt like everything was fading along with her. She didn't feel powerful anymore. She felt weak, and tired.
Chase had noticed last week, finally really noticed. They'd been in bed - at her house of course. She couldn't stomach his place and all the sickening masculine things about his place. They were so male, so full of testosterone and so not House.
"You're... looking thin, Aliison. You've lost a lot of weight." he'd said, not quite meeting her eye. That was fine with her. She didn't want to look him in the eye anyway. He'd lay next to her in silence after that, she took a deep breath in, as if about to say something... but nothing she could think of would come out right. So she said nothing at all.
He'd stroked her cheek and kissed her there. He'd run his smooth aussie hands over her ribcage and looked deep in her eyes. Kind of like begging her, silently.
"Allison... are you -"
"Chase, don't." she'd said, more forcefully than she'd intended, or thought she could be.
He'd sighed and got dressed. She'd spend and hour and a half doing sit-ups that night. 1000 of them. Until her whole body burned and she could barely move. Then she'd showered, changed, and collapsed in bed - without eating dinner of course. She didn't even give notice to the fact that she hadn't eaten anything for lunch or breakfast either.
Again her body began to feel like it was about to give in. Her legs felt weak and rubbery. She could beging to see the spots in front of her eyes. These were a warning. She'd have to stop soon. She didn't want to. But she'd have to or she'd pass out again and something embarrasing would happen. Last time, she hadn't even been running. The spots had caught her offguard as she'd been standing at the nurse's station in the clinic, waiting on Cuddy to give her a new patient file. She'd been fidgeting with her pen and tapping her foot. Any way to burn off extra calories, from her salad that day. The only thing she'd eaten that day, hell, in two days.
She'd started to say something to the attending when Cuddy grabber her lightly by the arm and turned her around. She hadn't been ready for such sudden motion and she'd gotten lightheaded and stumbled over her feet a little.
Cuddy had looked concerned. A look she usually saved for dying children or patients with dying babies. Cameron had felt stupid for causing this look. She'd wanted to hide, but before she could make up and excuse the dots had begun to spread until everything was black and she felt herself falling.
Cuddy had caught her and sent her home for the rest of the day with a strict warning.
"Dr. Cameron, has something been bothering you lately?" she'd asked, as they'd sat in her office.
Cameron hadn't answered. Cuddy had already told her she'd needed to go home and rest, so why were they in here? Couldn't she just leave and get it over with already? If nothing else, Cameron was tired of feeling humiliated.
She'd tapped her foot up and down and avoided Cuddy's gaze and finally Cuddy sighed and continued her one-sided conversation.
"Dr. Cameron, you've been losing a lot of weight lately. We're all worried for you. I mean, you've never been fat, far from it. Is there a reason for the weight loss? Is that what caused you to fall?"
Cameron studied the floor like it were a fine painting before answering. "No, I'm just tired and stressed. Maybe if I go home and get some rest. I'll feel better tomorrow Dr. Cuddy."
With that, Cuddy had allowed Cameron to leave, although she didn't look convinced at all.
As Cameron pressed the button and stopped her treadmill she held onto it for support. She stood there for a second thinking over her conversation with Cuddy. "We're all worried for you." she'd said.
'Yeah right' Cameron thought to herself. Like House would ever worry about her.
The thought caused a twinge of pain in her chest and she stumbled slowly over to her sofa where she collapsed and pulled her water bottle off of her coffee table, taking a swig. She sat there in silence for a moment, letting her heart rate slow, begging it to. She waited for the dots to clear from her vision so she could stand up and make her way to the shower. Her stomach was in knots. The pain in her side wasn't subsiding, but she couldn't take it anymore, sitting there in that silence, the lonely silence of her living room. She would only start thinking about him and then she'd end up even sicker than she already felt.
As she made her way down her hall and into her bathroom she held onto the wall for balance. Once inside she pulled off her sweatsoaked training bra and shorts before stepping onto the scale. It sealed her fate for the night; 104.
She sighed and stomped, and a tear fell from her eye. This would never do, and she knew it. She left herself slide down her bathroom wall and onto the floor. Suddenly sobbing uncontrollably.
She felt alone, her stomach hurt more than she'd ever thought possible. She clawed at it with her nails and gave in to her delusions. Thinking of him. She wanted him to come save her, tell her it would be ok. Hell, maybe she even wanted him to fix her. She smirked at the irony, but her crying continued. The tilting of her bathroom and the sudden closeness of the walls was the last thing she remembered before things went completely black. Her body slumped over and she fell into a near-fetile position, where she lay naked and cold on the floor, until the next morning.
I want to die.
It's just angsty right now but they all seem bitter over there anyway and I'm as miserable as can be and maybe I'm translating myself through Cam in this. I don't know. But I wrote it and it didn't help me and my fingers still feel shaky, but I'm posting it here.
Cameron's lungs were starting to burn. She could feel her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. She was running. Fast, and hard. Her tennish shoes pounded into the rubber of her treadmill and she tried, she tried to make everything go away. To force all the bitterness and anger out of her, all the sickness and bile. But the more she ran the sicker she got. She had a stitch in her side and she couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd eaten.
That part felt good.
It'd been going on like this for weeks. Maybe months. She felt numb, she couldn't feel. Her fling with Chase was doing nothing to change that. So a while back she'd switched to not eating. It made her feel powerful, gave her a semblance of control. The first couple of weeks she'd felt great. She felt like she had all the power in the world, and as she watched the number on the scale drop, pound after pound, she'd felt herself fading away. But more and more lately she'd felt like everything was fading along with her. She didn't feel powerful anymore. She felt weak, and tired.
Chase had noticed last week, finally really noticed. They'd been in bed - at her house of course. She couldn't stomach his place and all the sickening masculine things about his place. They were so male, so full of testosterone and so not House.
"You're... looking thin, Aliison. You've lost a lot of weight." he'd said, not quite meeting her eye. That was fine with her. She didn't want to look him in the eye anyway. He'd lay next to her in silence after that, she took a deep breath in, as if about to say something... but nothing she could think of would come out right. So she said nothing at all.
He'd stroked her cheek and kissed her there. He'd run his smooth aussie hands over her ribcage and looked deep in her eyes. Kind of like begging her, silently.
"Allison... are you -"
"Chase, don't." she'd said, more forcefully than she'd intended, or thought she could be.
He'd sighed and got dressed. She'd spend and hour and a half doing sit-ups that night. 1000 of them. Until her whole body burned and she could barely move. Then she'd showered, changed, and collapsed in bed - without eating dinner of course. She didn't even give notice to the fact that she hadn't eaten anything for lunch or breakfast either.
Again her body began to feel like it was about to give in. Her legs felt weak and rubbery. She could beging to see the spots in front of her eyes. These were a warning. She'd have to stop soon. She didn't want to. But she'd have to or she'd pass out again and something embarrasing would happen. Last time, she hadn't even been running. The spots had caught her offguard as she'd been standing at the nurse's station in the clinic, waiting on Cuddy to give her a new patient file. She'd been fidgeting with her pen and tapping her foot. Any way to burn off extra calories, from her salad that day. The only thing she'd eaten that day, hell, in two days.
She'd started to say something to the attending when Cuddy grabber her lightly by the arm and turned her around. She hadn't been ready for such sudden motion and she'd gotten lightheaded and stumbled over her feet a little.
Cuddy had looked concerned. A look she usually saved for dying children or patients with dying babies. Cameron had felt stupid for causing this look. She'd wanted to hide, but before she could make up and excuse the dots had begun to spread until everything was black and she felt herself falling.
Cuddy had caught her and sent her home for the rest of the day with a strict warning.
"Dr. Cameron, has something been bothering you lately?" she'd asked, as they'd sat in her office.
Cameron hadn't answered. Cuddy had already told her she'd needed to go home and rest, so why were they in here? Couldn't she just leave and get it over with already? If nothing else, Cameron was tired of feeling humiliated.
She'd tapped her foot up and down and avoided Cuddy's gaze and finally Cuddy sighed and continued her one-sided conversation.
"Dr. Cameron, you've been losing a lot of weight lately. We're all worried for you. I mean, you've never been fat, far from it. Is there a reason for the weight loss? Is that what caused you to fall?"
Cameron studied the floor like it were a fine painting before answering. "No, I'm just tired and stressed. Maybe if I go home and get some rest. I'll feel better tomorrow Dr. Cuddy."
With that, Cuddy had allowed Cameron to leave, although she didn't look convinced at all.
As Cameron pressed the button and stopped her treadmill she held onto it for support. She stood there for a second thinking over her conversation with Cuddy. "We're all worried for you." she'd said.
'Yeah right' Cameron thought to herself. Like House would ever worry about her.
The thought caused a twinge of pain in her chest and she stumbled slowly over to her sofa where she collapsed and pulled her water bottle off of her coffee table, taking a swig. She sat there in silence for a moment, letting her heart rate slow, begging it to. She waited for the dots to clear from her vision so she could stand up and make her way to the shower. Her stomach was in knots. The pain in her side wasn't subsiding, but she couldn't take it anymore, sitting there in that silence, the lonely silence of her living room. She would only start thinking about him and then she'd end up even sicker than she already felt.
As she made her way down her hall and into her bathroom she held onto the wall for balance. Once inside she pulled off her sweatsoaked training bra and shorts before stepping onto the scale. It sealed her fate for the night; 104.
She sighed and stomped, and a tear fell from her eye. This would never do, and she knew it. She left herself slide down her bathroom wall and onto the floor. Suddenly sobbing uncontrollably.
She felt alone, her stomach hurt more than she'd ever thought possible. She clawed at it with her nails and gave in to her delusions. Thinking of him. She wanted him to come save her, tell her it would be ok. Hell, maybe she even wanted him to fix her. She smirked at the irony, but her crying continued. The tilting of her bathroom and the sudden closeness of the walls was the last thing she remembered before things went completely black. Her body slumped over and she fell into a near-fetile position, where she lay naked and cold on the floor, until the next morning.
I want to die.