A/N: I have not read one Chase/Cameron story ever… I actually don't know why I decided to focus so much on them in this story. Maybe because the writers of House have decided to abandon them (well, mostly Chase) this season. Also, this fic was started before the fourth season, when I had no idea what was going to happen. So, it will have a mixture of what my original plans for the characters were, and what actually happened. And, of course, my sincerest apologies for being the lazy ass I am and not updating in forever. Whew… on with the story!

Disclaimer: House MD is property of David Shore. I am merely playing with the characters to my fancy.

Chase sat in the front seat of his car, AC on full blast, icy air cooling his face. Music turned on loud pumped through the car, through him, a futile attempt at drowning out his thoughts.

Cameron.

He had never been one to become needy or overly attached in relationships. He liked flirting and dates and casual sex… Well, at least he had liked that. Somehow he had changed into this person… this person who parked outside of their own freaking apartment for over an hour because they were too afraid to go inside and have an actual conversation.

He was sure she was going to break up with him.

One part of his brain told him to just get on with his life. This self-sabotaging, dysfunctional thing he and Cameron had going needed to stop. When he thought about her… he felt this fear- he didn't want to lose her. But, besides that, he was strangely ambivalent. He did love her, in a way. He just needed to figure out what that way was.

He turned off the car. Opening the door, he let the stuffy, hot air penetrate the artificial coolness of the car; he started sweating immediately. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing that he was due for a good wash, and strode up to his front door.

He found her in the kitchen. She didn't acknowledge him at first, head turned away, eyes gazing at nothing. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and just watched her, trying to see into her mysterious mind. Finally, he said calmly, "We need to talk."

She finally turned to meet his eyes. Ignoring his statement, she said, "I got a job at the hospital."

Inside, Chase was ablaze with anger… and confusion. This was a betrayal, even if he told himself that he was just overreacting. He kept his face expressionless, though, as he asked, "Are you working for House again?"

It was just like House to screw with him by not mentioning that Cameron had come running back to him. The walls were closing in…

He fiddled with a lone pencil that lay on the table. It flew out of his hand as Cameron finally answered. "No, I'm… head of the ER."

Chase's stomach coiled tight, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why. "That's an… odd choice."

The ER was the last place Chase would have pegged Cameron to go. It just didn't seem to suit her. It was butchery in there, getting people taped and bandaged up as soon as possible before moving on to the next person. Rarely was there a truly interesting case, and never did you get to bond with the patients like when they were the top priority. And Cameron's empathy and compassion towards the patients were what made her unique in the harsh world of medicine.

As if reading his mind, Cameron said simply, "It's different. It's a change. I do miss… House. And the job. But I needed to get out of that place where everything is a cruel competition. The more time you spend with him the more you start to believe in his screwed-up ideology that life is empty, that people are mean and worthless, that it all means nothing… you think that I left because I was too afraid to take him on by myself, and maybe you're right." Chase's gaze was serious as he concentrated on what she was saying. "I tried to tell myself that I was simply supporting you… but that was just an excuse. An excuse for the fact that… I'm weak."

Chase's heart seemed to flutter rather uncharacteristically for a second. Not in response to her pain, of course, but the fact that she was being honest. Vulnerable, in fact. There were many different faces of Cameron. There was the aggressive one that kissed him passionately; there was stoic Cameron that ran off brilliant diagnoses without a blink of the eye; and there was this Cameron… the Cameron that let her true self show through… surprisingly low self-esteem included. He couldn't help but walk over and hug her, breathing in her familiar scent and reveling in the warmth of her body. "You're not weak… you're right. It was time for a change… for all of us. House included. And if this makes you happy, then I'm happy."

He leaned his head back to look into her bright blue eyes. This was what he wanted, he told himself. He wanted her. His lips melded with hers and it felt right…

And yet…

As her soft hands wove their way through his hair and his hands ran over her body, a mean, little voice found its way into his conscious. She's just manipulating you.

He mentally shushed the intruding voice and pulled Cameron in for a viciously passionate kiss. She shuddered against him and he deepened the kiss even further. She's going to leave you.

Her hands traveled an enticing trail across his chest, and he let her raise his shirt over his head. As she led him to the bedroom, the voice was pushed back to the farthest recesses of his mind.

HOUSEHOUSEHOUSEHOUSEHOUSEHOUSEHOUSEHOUSEHOUSE

It was hot. Sweltering. The thin sheets stuck to Chase's skin as he rolled over, surprised to find Cameron lying next to him. Somehow, he had become used to waking up on House's itchy, uncomfortable couch, hearing his light snores from the next room.

He wondered if House noticed that he stayed out all night. Not that he would care, but still.

Chase glanced outside and saw that the streets were still bathed in darkness. A quick glance at the clock told him why- 3 AM. Cameron was silent and still on her side of the bed, curled into herself, turned away from him. When they had first started going out, really going out, not the whole casual sex in supply closets part of their relationship, he would always wake up to find her snuggled against him, head resting lightly on his shoulder, arm thrown haphazardly across his waist. He couldn't help but analyze this sudden change.

This was his apartment… but it all seemed so foreign. For two weeks he had been sleeping at House's, reluctant to kick Cameron out of his place, especially since it had only been a couple weeks since he convinced her to sell her apartment. Also, he was ignoring the fact that they were arguing in the first place. Maybe she was too, since she hadn't started looking for a new place. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

His bedroom used to have the smell of aftershave and mustiness, since he always neglected to open the windows. Now the unmistakable scent of flowers hung in the air, like it was marked. He got inexplicably irritated as he noticed more things that were changed. His CD collection was alphabetized, his books lay in a neat line on his bookshelf instead of in one big clump, and, worst of all, the tiny photograph he had of his mother was taken out of his bedside drawer and put nicely on his desk. Why would she even think to do that?

His legs moved restlessly against the itchy blankets and droplets of sweat rolled off his forehead. This was ridiculous, did Cameron not believe in air-conditioning or something?

He knew that it was stupid. His inner psychiatrist told him that he was not aggravated at Cameron for moving a picture, or angry about the heat, but rather he was avoiding a deeper issue. He hated deeper issues… and he hated psychiatrists for that matter. His breath was ragged as he rolled off of the bed, pulling on his pants as he went.

He paced back and forth across the room, glancing at Cameron's sleeping form as he went. He wanted to leave, wanted to go back to ignoring his problems, but he didn't want to betray one of the only people he had in his life. Familiarity wasn't that solid of a reason to stay in a relationship, but his unwillingness to give that comfort up seemed to control him.

He had thought House was the one who hated change.

The muggy air seemed to be choking him. He ripped the window open desperately, taking deep breaths of the cool, night air. He heard Cameron stir on the bed. He mentally admonished himself for waking her with his sort of panic attack. Her voice was soft and warm, which made him hate himself for being such a jackass. "Hey."

Avoiding her curious gaze, he grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it roughly over his head. His throat seemed constricted, not knowing how to start saying what he felt. If he even wanted to.

She smiled up at him, gesturing for him to come back to bed. Instead, he found his feet moving in the direction of the door. "Chase? What are you doing?"

He had no idea. Maybe he should figure that out before making a huge mistake. But, of course, all he did was gaze into her eyes and say in a surprisingly deep voice, "I love you. But…I don't know if I want to be with you. I'm sorry."

And he left, cold silence stalking him all the way back to House's apartment.

A/N: Apologies for any OOCness or grammar errors. I welcome any form of criticism or praise. Thank you for reading.