(no subject)
title: this might be the end
rating: teen
spoilers: nope
disclaimer: don't own
::I'm sorry that it's been a while since the last chapter. This one isn't that long, but I wanted to write something down because I think it's been over a month::
The doctors decided to keep Cameron for a few nights, monitoring her condition for improvements and signs of regression. Everything seemed to be pointing in the positive direction, giving the doctors just enough reassurance that with Levothyroxine Cameron would be able to regulate her thyroid hormone levels, reducing the risks of anymore complications...hopefully.
As a result of House and Cameron’s little argument the first night, they were able to find a comforting way of showing their worry about their current situation a bit more to House’s liking. Since the beginning, neither had been very good with selecting the most accurate words to reflect their sentiments for one another.
With no intentions of sounding like Goldilocks, it was either too small of a word, or too big, but in order to make it ‘just right’ they had their stares and body language to define all.
Bottom line: They were scared.
House was scared. The stakes in his situation were far sharper, higher...that is, if one were to look at the past few months from his perspective, the situation could turn into:
- baby gone
- wife gone
.
.
.
- No family.
Which essentially leaves the option, not so much an option, but no chance of ever making it.
It would just be like God’s own entertainment at the expense of those who don’t follow, their punishment for believing in a world where life evolved and people became the way they are due to heat, or protection of their clan, or instinct, or building of intelligence by making tools.
If anything negative were to happen, House made a note to remind God to blame Anthropology.
As they packed Cameron’s things, House couldn’t stray away from the vibrant image of himself sitting outside, anywhere, with a drink in hand thinking that if God wanted him dead, then he should have done it a long time ago instead of giving him a taste of something much better, only to strangle him with burning liquid and the contents in an orange bottle.
The thought wasn’t foreign by any means because it had come to him on several occasions. House continued to allow his thoughts to bury themselves deeper into gloom while his imagination created a picture so realistic, he could have sworn it was a memory.
The feelings were there as if he had lost his family already, but vanished when he heard Cameron call his name.
“You ready to go,” she asked while holding back any questions about what was on his mind.
With his back facing her, he placed her toothbrush in a Ziploc bag, shoving it into a side pocket as he said quietly,
“We could’ve lost the kid.”
“I know,” she whispered, lips tightening in an attempt to build the strength to keep away any tears.
“What would happen if we did?”
Dropping the bag onto a corner chair, he grabbed his cane that was leaning against the wall and turned to face her.
Cameron wasn’t ready for this, hadn’t anticipated this, and never thought it a possibility unless she forced it out of him. Sure he had his moments, but she could only count three times when he was the one to actually start these kinds of conversations.
Looking up, Cameron was faced with his intensive cobalt stare, feeling reluctant to give him the honesty he was asking for.
Seeming to sense her hesitance he added,
“The truth.”
“I don’t know what you want to hear. Are you asking if we’d try to have another? If we’d stay together...If I’d blame you?”
“Just...yes. Fine. All of those.”
He didn’t know why he was getting so angry. Perhaps it was her stalling or because she didn’t know right away what he was asking.
“I wouldn’t blame you, Greg.”
Pause.
Deep Breath.
Hesitate.
She continued, “But I don’t think we’d stay together.”
“Why not,” he interrupted quickly, pushing for reasoning so that he’d be able to avoid it from happening if something were to occur in the future.
“Because you and I would never talk about it. Maybe once. Maybe twice, but then it would be pushed aside, leaving us to break apart until one of us couldn’t take it anymore.”
“This is something I should be saying,” he half-joked.
Puffing air between his cheeks, he lowered his head slightly, keeping his eyes on her,
“You think I’d leave,” he stated plainly.
Cameron shook her head,
“No. I think I would.”
Of course he wanted to question this.
Why would she leave him?
What was she basing her assumptions on?
Before he had time to comprehend and respond, she grabbed her bag from the chair sitting behind him, walking out of the room.
**
At home, House sat staring at the keys of his piano, thinking about Cameron’s ‘confession.’ Could their relationship really revolve around their soon-to-be born child? He figured that their relationship was actually stronger than that.
HELLO!! They went through a hell of a lot more than most couples just to go on their second ‘real’ date. Not to mention she was married to someone like him. That has to count in the bonus section that rests in his favor.
If she was strong enough to be with him and love him for the rest of her life, how could it be that she so simply stated that she would be the one to leave him.
Cameron approached behind him from the kitchen once she realized that he hadn’t played a thing since he sat at the piano over an hour ago.
“It’s just what I think. I’m not saying its how it’ll happen,” she whispered into his ear with her arms wrapped around his neck,
“And everything’s fine so far. If anything happens, we’ll just go to the hospital and they’ll figure it out before something goes wrong.”
He didn’t make an effort to turn around, didn’t reach up to hold her hand, he just leaned into her,
“I love you,” he said. Pause, “You know that right?”
“I know it,” she squeezed her arms a bit tighter and kissed him behind the ear,
“Me too.”
rating: teen
spoilers: nope
disclaimer: don't own
::I'm sorry that it's been a while since the last chapter. This one isn't that long, but I wanted to write something down because I think it's been over a month::
The doctors decided to keep Cameron for a few nights, monitoring her condition for improvements and signs of regression. Everything seemed to be pointing in the positive direction, giving the doctors just enough reassurance that with Levothyroxine Cameron would be able to regulate her thyroid hormone levels, reducing the risks of anymore complications...hopefully.
As a result of House and Cameron’s little argument the first night, they were able to find a comforting way of showing their worry about their current situation a bit more to House’s liking. Since the beginning, neither had been very good with selecting the most accurate words to reflect their sentiments for one another.
With no intentions of sounding like Goldilocks, it was either too small of a word, or too big, but in order to make it ‘just right’ they had their stares and body language to define all.
Bottom line: They were scared.
House was scared. The stakes in his situation were far sharper, higher...that is, if one were to look at the past few months from his perspective, the situation could turn into:
- baby gone
- wife gone
.
.
.
- No family.
Which essentially leaves the option, not so much an option, but no chance of ever making it.
It would just be like God’s own entertainment at the expense of those who don’t follow, their punishment for believing in a world where life evolved and people became the way they are due to heat, or protection of their clan, or instinct, or building of intelligence by making tools.
If anything negative were to happen, House made a note to remind God to blame Anthropology.
As they packed Cameron’s things, House couldn’t stray away from the vibrant image of himself sitting outside, anywhere, with a drink in hand thinking that if God wanted him dead, then he should have done it a long time ago instead of giving him a taste of something much better, only to strangle him with burning liquid and the contents in an orange bottle.
The thought wasn’t foreign by any means because it had come to him on several occasions. House continued to allow his thoughts to bury themselves deeper into gloom while his imagination created a picture so realistic, he could have sworn it was a memory.
The feelings were there as if he had lost his family already, but vanished when he heard Cameron call his name.
“You ready to go,” she asked while holding back any questions about what was on his mind.
With his back facing her, he placed her toothbrush in a Ziploc bag, shoving it into a side pocket as he said quietly,
“We could’ve lost the kid.”
“I know,” she whispered, lips tightening in an attempt to build the strength to keep away any tears.
“What would happen if we did?”
Dropping the bag onto a corner chair, he grabbed his cane that was leaning against the wall and turned to face her.
Cameron wasn’t ready for this, hadn’t anticipated this, and never thought it a possibility unless she forced it out of him. Sure he had his moments, but she could only count three times when he was the one to actually start these kinds of conversations.
Looking up, Cameron was faced with his intensive cobalt stare, feeling reluctant to give him the honesty he was asking for.
Seeming to sense her hesitance he added,
“The truth.”
“I don’t know what you want to hear. Are you asking if we’d try to have another? If we’d stay together...If I’d blame you?”
“Just...yes. Fine. All of those.”
He didn’t know why he was getting so angry. Perhaps it was her stalling or because she didn’t know right away what he was asking.
“I wouldn’t blame you, Greg.”
Pause.
Deep Breath.
Hesitate.
She continued, “But I don’t think we’d stay together.”
“Why not,” he interrupted quickly, pushing for reasoning so that he’d be able to avoid it from happening if something were to occur in the future.
“Because you and I would never talk about it. Maybe once. Maybe twice, but then it would be pushed aside, leaving us to break apart until one of us couldn’t take it anymore.”
“This is something I should be saying,” he half-joked.
Puffing air between his cheeks, he lowered his head slightly, keeping his eyes on her,
“You think I’d leave,” he stated plainly.
Cameron shook her head,
“No. I think I would.”
Of course he wanted to question this.
Why would she leave him?
What was she basing her assumptions on?
Before he had time to comprehend and respond, she grabbed her bag from the chair sitting behind him, walking out of the room.
**
At home, House sat staring at the keys of his piano, thinking about Cameron’s ‘confession.’ Could their relationship really revolve around their soon-to-be born child? He figured that their relationship was actually stronger than that.
HELLO!! They went through a hell of a lot more than most couples just to go on their second ‘real’ date. Not to mention she was married to someone like him. That has to count in the bonus section that rests in his favor.
If she was strong enough to be with him and love him for the rest of her life, how could it be that she so simply stated that she would be the one to leave him.
Cameron approached behind him from the kitchen once she realized that he hadn’t played a thing since he sat at the piano over an hour ago.
“It’s just what I think. I’m not saying its how it’ll happen,” she whispered into his ear with her arms wrapped around his neck,
“And everything’s fine so far. If anything happens, we’ll just go to the hospital and they’ll figure it out before something goes wrong.”
He didn’t make an effort to turn around, didn’t reach up to hold her hand, he just leaned into her,
“I love you,” he said. Pause, “You know that right?”
“I know it,” she squeezed her arms a bit tighter and kissed him behind the ear,
“Me too.”