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Allison woke up in her own bed, alone. It was Chase’s turn to work nights watching the patient. For the first time after she started dating him, Allison woke up refreshed. And a bit later than she usually does. It was an odd combination. She didn’t dwell on it.
The pleasant feeling continued for the rest of the morning. She decided to go for 10 minutes longer on the treadmill just because she felt like it. She got herself a bagel from the bakery en route to Princeton. The September air was humid, but it was getting cooler. Her go-to radio station played *Glamorous by Fergie*.
Today, Allison Cameron felt like Elle Woods.
She even smiled at the nurses. Everything felt sunshine and rainbows. On her way up, she courteously decided to give Chase a visit before they all met up in House’s office. It felt like the right thing to do. She met him in the lab, checking up on the DNA tests they had taken to confirm Foreman’s theory about it being Metachromatic leukodystrophy. If it was, they’d have to put the patient on the transplant list. Fast. She felt a bit heavier on her way up. Something about dying people sucks the energy out of you.
“Oh, hey…” Chase greeted her with surprise, “You look beautiful today.”
“Just well rested after a while.”
She felt a twinge of guilt in her chest. Chase had been sleeping over, or she’d been at his place every night since they started dating, except this one. He didn't keep her up in the way he would want to, but she had trouble sleeping. Maybe she just wasn’t used to sharing a bed after almost five years of being single. She just hoped Chase wouldn't take offense.
On the contrary, he smirked like a little boy. He ran his hands up and down her waist.
“You must’ve missed me tiring you to sleep every night.” He said cockily.
Cameron forced out a breathy chuckle. She really didn’t but played along anyway. She had to remind herself that it’s okay to want a break from your partner from time to time, considering they work together and everything. She wasn’t being a horrible girlfriend for not missing him.
“We should… We should really get going.”
Disappointed, Chase agreed. Cameron felt a bit dull leaving the lab. Hey, at least it was leukodystrophy. They figured it out. The patient lives. All is well for the next three days.
House’s presence was invited. He seemed in a good enough mood. That is, he wasn’t cranky. Foreman wore a smug smile after being told the test results, which pissed Chase off tremendously. With the tension growing in the air between the two of them, she decided to accompany House to Cuddy’s office to get the permission for the bone marrow transplant.
There was someone in Cuddy’s office, someone she spoke to in a jovial manner. A professional jovial manner. Cameron figured it must be a philanthropic heiress or something.
“We’ll just come back later.” She nudged House.
“Right, we’ll come back when the patient’s dead to make Cuddy break the news to her family.”
Avoiding all semblance of manners, House barged into her office. Cameron merely sighed at the gesture, rushing in with him, paperwork in hand.
Cuddy, still somehow surprised by the antics House pulls, gave him a stern look.
“House! I am clearly in the middle of something here!”
“Our aspiring cheerleader has Metachromatic leukodystrophy. She needs a bone marrow transplant. Her mother’s a match.” Cameron explains before House embarrasses Cuddy in front of whoever this is. She let him hand her the file.
The “whoever” looks at her.
Cameron freezes. Maybe even forgets how to breathe. For a second there, as she registers at this person’s face, her heart stops pumping blood. Her ears start ringing. Disbalanced, she takes a step back.
“Allison!?”
She blinks. It’s… It’s you. Out of everyone she’s ever met, from the moment she was born till now, it was you. The familiar sound of her name on your tongue brought back everything she’d ever wanted to forget. The daze on her face leaves Cuddy and House confused.
“Recognize me? I mean I’ve only grown my hair out a bit. Trying to look professional and everything.”
“Yeah- yeah… Of course I do. How…” can I not? She wants to say, “...are you? It’s been years.” There’s a strain in her voice, like she’s obviously trying to sound happier than she is. House watches the exchange with keen eyes.
“I’m doing well. Crazy seeing you here!” You tell her, the reason why you’re in Cuddy’s office is long forgotten.
“You’re in… Jersey. Wow.” Cameron says, almost to herself.
“Uh, yeah. Just accepting my new job, seems like we’ll be co-workers now.” You’re enthusiastic, House notes, and Cameron isn’t.
She really isn’t. The memories of her final days of residency seem to be coming back to haunt her. Everything about you, your smile, your voice, your eyes. She forces a smile.
“That’s… That’s great.”
No I’ll show you around or Congratulations or Let’s catch up. None of that.
You respond with a smile, turning to Cuddy again. Thankfully, she doesn't enquire about the nature of your relationship. She isn't sure House is going to extend the same grace to her when they walk out that door. Her eyes are trained on the back of your skull. Your hair. Soft, she’s sure, like the last time she ever felt it. She almost reaches out for it. Cuddy approves of the transplant and starts informing you about the department and the doctors you’ll be working for. There is no further exchange. A small bye lingers on Cameron’s lips.
“What was THAT?” House immediately probes as they walk towards the elevator.
“What? She’s an old…” Friend? Lover? Memory she can't forget? Cameron decides to play it safe. Not a friend. None of the other answers either. “...lab partner. We’re acquaintances from back in residency.”
“Wow,” House pops a Vicodin in the elevator, “The way you were looking at her, I’d thought she died and got reincarnated or something.”
And he had a point. To her at least, that lifestyle, the one she lived with you, was dead for 8 years. And here you were, alive and taunting her for mourning the loss of what once was.
“I was just surprised to see her here, that's all.”
“Yeah right.” He rolls his eyes at her.
Luckily, a decrepit looking old man entered the elevator. House was now busy taunting him and his cane. Cameron was relieved the attention was off her encounter with you. Guessing she would see you around now, she tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever it would bring.
The rest of the day is spent in the transplant and post-op check ins from the team. House was apparently too busy bothering Wilson to find her alone to ask more questions. Soon, she would clock out and be at home. She really, really needed to be home. And not alone. She clung to Chase in the parking lot, the sudden affection making him smile.
“You looked distracted the whole day after you went out with House, did he say something?”
Not this again.
“Oh no, just… met an old friend from residency, she’s gotten a job here.”
Old friend. That's not what she’d told House. Why did that just slip? Why didn’t she just say nothing and shrug it off?
“Oh! What department?”
“Rheumatology.”
“Oh.” Chase seemed glum. That was his dad’s specialty. The one and only Dr. Chase.
The two of them walked silently to her car after that exchange. They got home after discussing some specifics of the case, some funny clinic moments and a bit of House. The ride seemed longer than it was.
The warm air in Allison’s apartment greeted them as she closed the door behind her. Both of them had some leftovers as dinner at an ungodly hour. As tired as she was, she needed to feel like herself. She needed to be wanted by her boyfriend. The man who loves her.
When in bed, she climbs on top of him. Slow caresses to draw his attention to her, running her hands through his hair, his stubble, his soft lips. Lately he’s been growing out his beard for some reason. Allison felt a strong urge to tell him to shave it. She thought his boyish (bordering on girlish) looks were cute. Regardless, she craved the familiar discomfort of him inside her. Though they were both quite exhausted, he caved. Anyone would.
Robert being a heavy sleeper, now on his side and already snoring, didn’t notice her get out of bed. Allison had masterfully created a pillow-woman, or well pillow-person, to sleep next to him. She stepped into the kitchen and turned on the one bulb illuminating the stove cautiously, so there won’t be any noise. And she began pacing.
There were just thoughts of you. Have you changed? Are you the same? You look the same. Does Cuddy know? Did she ask after they left the room? What did you think of Cuddy? Did you think she was pretty? Are you seeing someone? Are you up like this, at 2 a.m., pacing around your kitchen thinking about her… like she is with you?
Or have you moved on from everything the way she never could?
She knows she shouldn’t. She’d be waking up Chase and God forbid he finds out what she’d been up to. But she had to. Walking to her bedroom as quietly as she could, she opened her closet door, which she had absentmindedly left slightly ajar. Rummaging between the winter wear kept at the bottom shelf, she finally found it. An old shoe box. Mary Jane’s. She threw that pair out years ago when she came to Princeton and tried to reinvent herself.
With bated breath, she opened the lid. Old scarf, some polaroids, some letters from old friends with their numbers and mails written on them. A needleless syringe and a stethoscope too. And one polaroid at the very bottom, so forgotten that it threatened to become one with the box. She slid her nails beneath it and tried to get it out of the crevice, all with a desperation, an urge, one she’d never felt before.
A picture of the two of you in her dorm. A bucket of ice cream on your barely clothed lap, her hands on your thighs as she dug the spoon for a bite. Messy hair, pants abandoned somewhere beyond the camera and university t-shirts. You, with the contagious, heart-stopping smile, the one she tried so hard to forget. She’d succeeded too, until you show up at her sanctuary and ruin everything. Remind her of who she is, no, was. Was with you. Maybe, that was… intimate or maybe it was just happy.
Allison didn’t realize she had been holding her breath till started feeling light-headed. She turned the photo around to see the note you’d left, Ally knows just how to lick the spoon ;)
Like a child caught watching something they shouldn’t be, she shoved the photo in her pajama pocket, closed the box hastily and shoved it back inside, buried deep, deep inside her closet. She craned her neck to look at Robert, guilty.
She eased her way back to bed, picking up her pillow and shoving the picture below it. As she pulled the covers above her legs, Robert woke up. Or he had been. Whatever it was, she froze.
“You’ve been up,” he said, accusingly, “for a while now, are you okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I was thirsty. Sorry if I woke you up.”
“You took 20 minutes to drink water?”
“Why were you counting?!” That comes out a little louder than she expected. Chase now sits at the diagonal edge of the bed, leaving her feeling isolated and culpable. He has a look on his face, like he suspects her. It’s not very inviting.
“Is something going on?”
“No, It’s nothing. Trust me.”
“Is it work? I mean, the patient’s okay. You didn’t seem to like her much anyway. Is it… the rheumatologist? Your old friend?”
The word ‘friend’ makes Allison shiver a bit.
“What did she do? Why are you weird about her?” He enquired further, poking into her silence.
She sighs. He’s going to keep asking. He’s going to make the next few days impossible if she doesn't make something up now.
“She… she stole one of my articles and took complete credit for the idea. It was a whole thing, I mean, I forgive her. She… Yeah, she did help me a little bit but whatever. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“What a bitch! Understandable why you got so mad at Foreman.”
Enraged, Allison jerks her head in his direction, burning holes into his skull. Don’t call her that. It’s hardly the same. You don't know her! You don't know what we were. She wants to yell at him, let it out. The lie she created. She feels miserable for making up something like that about you, knowing you would be the last person to do something so immature.
But that’s the truth. He doesn’t know. He never will. She chose the story of an unethical friend, she’s choosing to stick with it. It’s better than the truth. Robert would never understand. That wasn’t a fling, a hookup or two. What she felt for you was different, it was… It was something she had never felt for another person. Something she didn’t feel for him either.
Would it be better if they knew? Maybe she’d say they just kissed, as friends. One night when you both were super drunk. Girls do that, don’t they? House would think it was super hot. The image of him saying that made her want to gag. But she knew it wouldn’t make it better. The relentless teasing… she wouldn't be able to take it. Everyday, in every conversation, at least for a couple of weeks, everyone on the team would make a fuss about the two of you. The memories of whatever the two of you had would assault her brain every time they’d mention you.
Everything that happened should only exist in the confines of her brain. It’s safe that way. It’s still sacred.
“Yeah, I know.” Allison finally blurts out.
Chase turns to look at her, jolted by her delayed response. His eyebrows cock up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah… Yes, can we please go to sleep?”
Allison extends her arms out to invite him to lay next to her. Satisfied, Robert finally comes to bed, comes to her. The woman he loves. Not the woman who loves him. Guilt ridden, Allison spent the night awake, the picture of the two of you under her pillow.