house fic: The Darker Days of Me and Him 7/10
Title: The Darker Days of Me and Him
Pairing/Characters: cameron, house/cameron
Words: 1004
Spoilers: Minor for 'Love Hurts' and small mention of 'Honeymoon'.
Rating: Harmless PG for now. It's going to rise. Promise
Summary: “He scares me.”
A/N: Part One is here. Part Two is here. Part Three is here. Part Four is here.Part Five is here. Part Six is here.
stinky soul get a little lost in my own
hey general, need a little love in that hole of yours
one ways, now, and saturdays and our kittens
all wrapped in cement
from cradle to gumdrops
got me running girl as fast as I can
Tori Amos, Butterfly
vi.
At sixteen, Allison Cameron will stop believing in God.
It will happen and it will be quick. It will be the only time she’ll ever witness a ferocious kind of cruelty, a cruelty that she could never speak of again to anyone else. At sixteen, she will meet Daniel Cameron. And at sixteen, she will break her own heart.
Danny will damn her the day they meet. They will be friends first [a few days] and lovers later [years]. The joke was [is] that she was Sylvia to his Ted and their intensity will scare many, many people.
He damned her the day he called her his Sylvia.
Years later, she will remember that day with a grateful disassociation. On the docks. The scent of the sea. The roses that had fallen by her feet. His hands under blouse and her skirt bunched at her waist. He will grunt. She will almost sob. And it will be ugly.
[i don’t love you]
But she will condemn herself to love him anyway. It’s easier story to tell. Meet him in college. Fell in love. And one truth. He was dying, but didn’t tell her until it was too late.
Her recovery will come at the price of scars.
And she will try and hide the rest.
“You’re in love,” her mother croaks from her bed.
Cameron jumps, startled at the empty sound filling the quiet room. She no longer hears the sounds of the monitors that are still keeping her mother alive. Being a doctor takes away that aspect of humanity. It also makes her awkward. And terrified.
[i can’t do this again]
She leans forward, reaching for her mother’s curling hand. “Go back to sleep.”
Her mother laughs and it’s nothing more than a whisper. She wants to cry because she knows that the time is coming and she doesn’t do well with goodbyes. She isn’t ready for the I could’ve done this and I should’ve said that.
“I’ve been sleeping too long, darling,” she whispers, the faint traces of her Bostonian accent ringing clear. “I see Jack brought some of his magnolias up.”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything and twirls the stem of magnolias between her fingers. Jack, her older brother, came with more than just small branches of flowers. There were the accusations at her father and at her [i didn’t know damn it]. There is still angry, a furious silence between the three of them who will be left.
The relationship between her father and Jack is already too strained and Allison will have to force herself to be the peacemaker yet again. She will remember the struggle of keeping things together.
She’s never forgotten her role in the family.
“How do they smell?”
She swallows and tries to meet the curious gaze of her mother, but fails. The soft fragrance of the magnolias mocks her and the memories seem to do nothing but hate her. “Like I remember,” she murmurs.
Living in Atlanta is nothing more than distant piece of the past.
They were supposed to move to Charleston, her father still drifting in the idea of opening his own private practice, but never did. Her mother got a job teaching psychology at the university and her father went on to work for the city hospital.
She remembers how disappointed her mother had been. She had been looking forward to seasons of magnolias in full bloom. The scents. The sights. The romanticism of spring. And so, her father had brought them to her. The house in Atlanta was covered with magnolia trees and a tradition- wavering- was born.
[and forgotten]
She misses the magnolias in the spring.
Her mother’s voice cuts through the memories. “You never answered my question.”
“Mama,” she protests, weakly hoping to avoid the topic at hand. [him her and that] Too many aspects left undefined. Limbo. She’s too stuck. Frozen. “It’s not important.”
Her mother reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together. They looked like each other once. Same smile. Same laugh. Same dark eyes. “But it is. I’ve never seen you so terrified.”
She meets her mother’s gaze with reluctant surprise. Distance, no matter how awfully comforting it can be, has done nothing to stifle the relationship she shared [shares] with her mother. Memories are rusty. But time is too short.
She is terrified.
But she cannot bring herself to say it without fumbling.
“He scares me.” Her honesty hurts. But it also frees her. Little by little.
“He should scare you,” her mother says, the grip of her hand on hers tightening. “It wouldn’t be love if it didn’t.”
The all too familiar words rise like bile in her throat. Excuses, old and older, return to their former places in her mind. Her rationality. “I loved Danny.”
Her mother shakes her head. A sad smile tugging at her lips. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did.” The idea. The fantasy of a relationship. She loved the comfort. And only comfort, but even that had only been real for so long. The fundamentals of their relationship were never clear.
[i’m dying ally let me go]
[how can i when you never let me go in the first place]
[you need me]
“No,” she repeats. “You just did an excellent job of convincing yourself you did. The fantasy that the two of lived had to end soon. This one is different. You’re different.”
Her lips tremble. She tries to force disbelief into her voice. “How?”
She hates the way her mother’s staring her with that knowing gaze. She could see the secrets that she could never bring herself to admit.
“You’re alive, Ally,” she tells her sadly. “I’ve forgotten what it was like to see you like this.”
“I’m not in love.” Hollow. [it’s so easy lying to yourself]
Her mother’s smile is tired. But the truth is familiar. “You’re almost there.”
Hours later, she will die.
And House will find her on the roof again, clutching the stem of magnolias and sobbing over memories.
[they will begin like this]
Tape the broken parts together
Pairing/Characters: cameron, house/cameron
Words: 1004
Spoilers: Minor for 'Love Hurts' and small mention of 'Honeymoon'.
Rating: Harmless PG for now. It's going to rise. Promise
Summary: “He scares me.”
A/N: Part One is here. Part Two is here. Part Three is here. Part Four is here.Part Five is here. Part Six is here.
stinky soul get a little lost in my own
hey general, need a little love in that hole of yours
one ways, now, and saturdays and our kittens
all wrapped in cement
from cradle to gumdrops
got me running girl as fast as I can
Tori Amos, Butterfly
vi.
At sixteen, Allison Cameron will stop believing in God.
It will happen and it will be quick. It will be the only time she’ll ever witness a ferocious kind of cruelty, a cruelty that she could never speak of again to anyone else. At sixteen, she will meet Daniel Cameron. And at sixteen, she will break her own heart.
Danny will damn her the day they meet. They will be friends first [a few days] and lovers later [years]. The joke was [is] that she was Sylvia to his Ted and their intensity will scare many, many people.
He damned her the day he called her his Sylvia.
Years later, she will remember that day with a grateful disassociation. On the docks. The scent of the sea. The roses that had fallen by her feet. His hands under blouse and her skirt bunched at her waist. He will grunt. She will almost sob. And it will be ugly.
[i don’t love you]
But she will condemn herself to love him anyway. It’s easier story to tell. Meet him in college. Fell in love. And one truth. He was dying, but didn’t tell her until it was too late.
Her recovery will come at the price of scars.
And she will try and hide the rest.
“You’re in love,” her mother croaks from her bed.
Cameron jumps, startled at the empty sound filling the quiet room. She no longer hears the sounds of the monitors that are still keeping her mother alive. Being a doctor takes away that aspect of humanity. It also makes her awkward. And terrified.
[i can’t do this again]
She leans forward, reaching for her mother’s curling hand. “Go back to sleep.”
Her mother laughs and it’s nothing more than a whisper. She wants to cry because she knows that the time is coming and she doesn’t do well with goodbyes. She isn’t ready for the I could’ve done this and I should’ve said that.
“I’ve been sleeping too long, darling,” she whispers, the faint traces of her Bostonian accent ringing clear. “I see Jack brought some of his magnolias up.”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything and twirls the stem of magnolias between her fingers. Jack, her older brother, came with more than just small branches of flowers. There were the accusations at her father and at her [i didn’t know damn it]. There is still angry, a furious silence between the three of them who will be left.
The relationship between her father and Jack is already too strained and Allison will have to force herself to be the peacemaker yet again. She will remember the struggle of keeping things together.
She’s never forgotten her role in the family.
“How do they smell?”
She swallows and tries to meet the curious gaze of her mother, but fails. The soft fragrance of the magnolias mocks her and the memories seem to do nothing but hate her. “Like I remember,” she murmurs.
Living in Atlanta is nothing more than distant piece of the past.
They were supposed to move to Charleston, her father still drifting in the idea of opening his own private practice, but never did. Her mother got a job teaching psychology at the university and her father went on to work for the city hospital.
She remembers how disappointed her mother had been. She had been looking forward to seasons of magnolias in full bloom. The scents. The sights. The romanticism of spring. And so, her father had brought them to her. The house in Atlanta was covered with magnolia trees and a tradition- wavering- was born.
[and forgotten]
She misses the magnolias in the spring.
Her mother’s voice cuts through the memories. “You never answered my question.”
“Mama,” she protests, weakly hoping to avoid the topic at hand. [him her and that] Too many aspects left undefined. Limbo. She’s too stuck. Frozen. “It’s not important.”
Her mother reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together. They looked like each other once. Same smile. Same laugh. Same dark eyes. “But it is. I’ve never seen you so terrified.”
She meets her mother’s gaze with reluctant surprise. Distance, no matter how awfully comforting it can be, has done nothing to stifle the relationship she shared [shares] with her mother. Memories are rusty. But time is too short.
She is terrified.
But she cannot bring herself to say it without fumbling.
“He scares me.” Her honesty hurts. But it also frees her. Little by little.
“He should scare you,” her mother says, the grip of her hand on hers tightening. “It wouldn’t be love if it didn’t.”
The all too familiar words rise like bile in her throat. Excuses, old and older, return to their former places in her mind. Her rationality. “I loved Danny.”
Her mother shakes her head. A sad smile tugging at her lips. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did.” The idea. The fantasy of a relationship. She loved the comfort. And only comfort, but even that had only been real for so long. The fundamentals of their relationship were never clear.
[i’m dying ally let me go]
[how can i when you never let me go in the first place]
[you need me]
“No,” she repeats. “You just did an excellent job of convincing yourself you did. The fantasy that the two of lived had to end soon. This one is different. You’re different.”
Her lips tremble. She tries to force disbelief into her voice. “How?”
She hates the way her mother’s staring her with that knowing gaze. She could see the secrets that she could never bring herself to admit.
“You’re alive, Ally,” she tells her sadly. “I’ve forgotten what it was like to see you like this.”
“I’m not in love.” Hollow. [it’s so easy lying to yourself]
Her mother’s smile is tired. But the truth is familiar. “You’re almost there.”
Hours later, she will die.
And House will find her on the roof again, clutching the stem of magnolias and sobbing over memories.
[they will begin like this]
Tape the broken parts together