Chapter Eleven – Patient

“She’s not lying, House, he was here. I believe her.”

Chase stormed through the door to House’s office. He was angry. House had instantly put the incident down to trauma and a high-grade fever – which, he pointed out calmly, were both very reasonable diagnostic conclusions – but he wouldn’t admit the reason for his ardency in that it had all been in her mind was really because he couldn’t bear to think of her being in such worryingly obvious danger when she was supposedly safe, when they were allegedly protecting her. If he could get to her even here, then he couldn’t feel like he could protect her. He’d failed once, in his eyes, and the thought of being helpless to prevent any more pain actually made him feel nauseous. They had plain-clothes officers stationed throughout the hospital now, and any sightings of the attacker trying to make another appearance would be duly taken care of. For this reason, House sort of hoped he would show up again, because they had a clear description of him and would easily, finally, catch him. How he’d evaded the cops for so long, House just couldn’t understand.

“A fever of 104 isn’t exactly going to mean she had a perfectly clear mind, Chase.”

House growled a response, tossing the faithful ball into the air before smoothly catching it with no effort. He was growing tired of the constant droning of Chase’s conflict to everything he said. He knew part of it was because Cameron could barely look at him now, yet she asked for House regularly. House had seen the look of dejection on the younger doctor’s face when he’d rushed to her side only to have her shy away from him and direct her words to House instead, who had made no move toward her from his position in the doorway.

“Yes, but I know her and I know she’s not making this up-”

House instantly cut him off, dragging himself to his feet and glaring the young man down as he spoke evenly, his tone clearly indicating his contempt for what Chase had just insinuated.

“I didn’t say she was making it up,” he growled coolly, “And don’t imply that I don’t know her. She doesn’t want to know you right now, and I think we’ve both figured that one out.”

His tone was dry and tight, his words slicing to the raw wound Cameron herself had unknowingly inflicted on Chase’s heart by pushing him away. He felt useless, not being able to help her in any way, and constantly being pushed out. He’d known her feelings for him didn’t run as deep as his did for her, but to be cast off after what had happened…it rendered him vulnerable to her rejection, which he couldn’t simply accept and brush off like he usually would have.

Chase watched without a word as House limped toward the door, doubting it was clinic duty he was headed to right now.

---

He saw her before she saw him. For a few moments the whole world seemed to move in slow motion. The door in the lobby swung open and in she strolled, bright and confident as the justice she fought for.

“House.”

She greeted warmly as she caught sight of him and sauntered over.

“Stacy.”

He replied, letting no emotion drip into his voice. That ship had sailed a long time ago, he had more pressing issues right now. Like the Reuben calling his name and the woman currently lying in a hospital bed on the next floor.

“You look well.”

Small talk. He didn’t look ‘well’ at all. He’d hardly slept in the past month since Cameron had suffered the ordeal, and he spent most of his time throwing himself into double and even triple shifts just to take his mind off her, whilst still staying close enough for her to find easily.

“Why are you here?”

He asked flatly, averting his gaze from her as he let her comment slide. He didn’t return it – why bother, it was just a useless nicety anyway and she knew him well enough to know he didn’t do those – instead choosing to jump directly to the point, as usual. Her eyes left him for a moment, as though she’d expected his near-hostility but hoped she wouldn’t receive it.

“I’m Cameron’s lawyer. I know what happened, Cuddy filled me in. She was the one who called me, and I took the case on straight away. Not my usual kind of case whilst working in this hospital,” she smiled ruefully at her light-hearted stab at his partiality for acquiring difficult lawsuits, “but I’m on board and I’m going to win this.”  

She reached out and squeezed his arm lightly. He didn’t react, just watched her hand rest on his. He’d loved this woman and a part of him would always stir with the memories of what they had once been, but he didn’t feel the same about her as he had. A lot of those feelings of uncontrollable love, which he had simply had to accept and try to deal with in her case, had ebbed away since she’d left. Now here she was again. And he could safely say he was somewhat relieved that those feelings didn’t return as soon as she had. He was in love with another woman now, not that he’d actually admit it…at least not verbally. It was pretty obvious to most people that his feelings for Cameron were stronger than as ‘just a boss’ or even ‘just a friend’. It had been the hot gossip among bored nurses and naïve young interns for a long time, but he just ignored that kind of childish scandal. His feelings were his and his alone. If he wouldn’t even share them with the woman concerned, it wasn’t exactly likely he’d share with the rest of PPTH. And now Stacy had turned up, he didn’t doubt the rumour mill would be at its peak within no time. He was going to be having serious words with Cuddy. She’d asked Stacy to come back without even consulting him on the decision. Of course, House knew he may well have kicked against it.

“So, you have the guy then? Seeing as you’re so sure you’ll win this.”

He raised his eyebrows, his piercing gaze boring right into her. Stacy shifted uncomfortably and House moved his eyes from her. He knew they hadn’t caught their suspect yet. He was evading them with worrying dexterity. Sighing, he lifted his weight from his right leg a little more and looked back up to meet Stacy’s eyes.

“You win this. I don’t care if it takes a year; I want her safe. And right now, even here, she’s not safe. He turned up. He’s smart, but still stupid, and he’ll probably show up again, seeing as he got away with it once. Mind games aren’t exactly what they recommend for Cameron in therapy. She doesn’t need this, she’s been though enough.”

Stacy was taken aback by his sudden sincerity, the earnestness with which his words were spoken. And the empathy was also unexpected. Not like House at all. As she watched his walk toward the elevators, she saw it – what everyone else in this place had seen a long time ago. It somewhat saddened her. He was a part of her past that she’d never been able to fully let go of and he’d always been hers. And now, after all this time she was back and…he’d changed. He wasn’t hers anymore.

It was subtle and he was still his seemingly cold, sarcastic self to everyone else, but the sparkle in his eyes had dulled, his limp was slightly more pronounced – as though there was some kind of weight adding to the burden of pain and pressing down on his shoulders – and his frown lines were a little deeper, the trouble and torment that had afflicted him starting to physically manifest itself. It could just be that time had passed, they’d both gotten older, and physical changes were bound to stand out a little more when she hadn’t seen him in so long. But that dullness in his eyes, it softened them too. Had it been Cameron who’d actually managed to soften them? Stacy didn’t doubt it.

---

“I want to come back to work.”

Cameron stated, her no-nonsense, won’t-take-no-as-an-answer expression and tone striking a chord. That sounded like the Cameron he’d known before this nightmare had gripped them. She didn’t sound like the scared little girl trapped in the shell of fear and vulnerability that had taken over her since the ordeal.

But still, House shook his head.

“Five weeks isn’t recovery, Cameron.”

He said calmly, though secretly he was delighted that she felt up to it. Not that he hadn’t expected she’d be itching to get back on her feet before long; after all she was still Cameron, a self-admitted workaholic.

“House, I’m going out of my mind stuck in this bed twenty-four-seven! I need a case. Even if it means you guys bring one here. I need to do something!”

She’d started out in a demanding, strong tone but now she’d reverted to the pleading, puppy eyes that he simply couldn’t resist. Just like Stacy had, she knew exactly which buttons to press and how.

“One case. And you don’t leave that bed. You can order the kids around to your heart’s content but your feet do not touch that floor.”

They were his conditions and he’d stick to them. As much as she felt up to it, he knew she wasn’t ready to be up and about yet. She pouted, holding out on a deal until she could try and better it. She’d learned well. But House wasn’t going to jeopardise her recovery and set it back any by letting his exhaust herself so soon.

“Deal or no deal.”

He added, and she could tell his resolve would not weaken. Sighing reluctantly, she agreed with a small nod and rolled her eyes.

“Good. Differential diagnosis will be in here for one case. The slightest sign that it’s too much for you and we leave.”

He warned sternly and she kept quiet. He nodded before leaving the room, paging both Chase and Foreman to let them know how Cameron had so easily wrapped him around her finger. Of course, he wouldn’t say that, though he was sure they’d come to that opinion right away.

---

“Cameron, get back to your room! This was not part of the deal. Who the hell let you out of bed?”

House stared at her in utter disbelief and annoyance, fuelled by worry, as Cameron stood in the doorway to the differential diagnosis room, fully clothed and apart from the healing cuts on her face, the limp walked with – ironically enough, almost matching his, he noted – and the scar across her cheek, she looked like the old Cameron they’d all known. Chase and Foreman rushed to her side, as though if she wasn’t supported and treated like a frail, weak little girl she’d break.

“I broke the rules. So, sue me. I couldn’t spend another minute in that bed. I’m fine, I need to get back to work, and it’ll take my mind off things. Who’s the patient?”

She shrugged off their help and as steadily as possibly made her way to the table, sitting down, looking intently at the whiteboard. Chase and Foreman exchanged wary glances until House sighed in frustration and motioned for them to sit too. No good arguing with her, she’d win. And she knew it.

“Stop treating me like a patient, alright?”

Cameron said pointedly to Foreman and Chase, who had sat down, but were watching her with tense anticipation, as though she’d suddenly burst into tears or have some kind of meltdown at any moment. She looked to House, knowing that if anyone, he’d treat her ‘normally’. He took the hint.

“Twenty-nine year old male, diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukaemia four years ago and on ATRA trials, collapsed at work. His hot secretary brought him in, only reason I actually bothered with a history.”

All three of his fellows rolled their eyes, but Chase and Foreman were glad to see he wasn’t just laying everything out and then disappearing to his office, locking himself away as he had done for the past numerous weeks. Cameron’s presence seemed a balancing one, as always, even though none of them were entirely convinced she should be up and on her feet again.

Nodding thoughtfully and running the symptoms through he mind, she tried not to panic when her mind stayed blank. She knew this, she could propose some reasonable suggestions easily, as she always did…right? Blinking a few times, she consciously tried to slow her heart a little, wondering why it was racing, and tried to curb the frustration of her completely vacant mind.

“Cameron? Are you feeling-”

“I’m fine.”

She snapped, cutting Chase off, who tried not to show how wounded he felt at these constantly cut-offs. Instead, he focused his gaze on the whiteboard, drowning the humiliation of her sharp response. He couldn’t help that he cared.

Suddenly, she stood up, the anxiety in her expression unnerving all three men, Chase and Foreman instantly standing and stepping toward her. A hand on her stomach, she stumbled a little as she tried to maintain her balance, her vision and her colleagues’ voices all blurring. Her breathing became shallower as she panicked about losing her control. She could still understand what was being said but she was straining to balance everything out.

“You are not fine.”

Foreman’s voice cut through the haze that seemed to have engulfed her and she felt strong hands supporting her by the shoulders. The strong grip blindsided the abdominal pains and they paled in significance as she felt the familiar wave of a panic attack. She was starting to get utterly sick of these occurrences, but she had no way of controlling them. The therapist had said they may fade eventually but it’s just a case of managing them for now, and she wasn’t managing very well at this current moment. Flashes in front of her eyes tortured her and she heard someone’s screams. It took her a moment to realise they were her own.

She found herself sat in the chair again as the panic subsided, the vice-grip on her shoulders gone too. Chase and House’s faces came into focus as they stood looking worriedly down upon her; Foreman crouched in front of her checking her pupils with an ophthalmoscope.

Once the panic had finally dissipated completely, the shooting pains in her stomach worsened, stronger and sharper jolts causing her to cry out and clutch her stomach, razor-sharp tears pricking her eyes. Another jolt hit her and she gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening with the pressure. Foreman stood and shook his head.

“Nothing seems out of the ordinary there. Pupils aren’t dilated, retinal blood vessels look fine too.”

“Cameron, where does it hurt?”

Chase asked, as though he was talking to a three-year old with a tummy ache. House cast him a disgusted and distasteful glance before rephrasing it himself.

“What are your symptoms?”

Cameron appreciated both approaches – Chase was concerned and he wasn’t able to separate his emotions from the job when it came to her, as House could. But House was treating her as he knew she preferred. He didn’t coddle, which would only have served to increase her worry about what exactly was going on in her body, and instead treated her like the doctor she was.

“Acute abdominal pain, dizziness, pyrexia and nausea.”

She answered, not looking up at any of them. She hadn’t told them of any previous abdominal pains and she felt House’s penetrating gaze held steadily on her.

“How long have you kept this to yourself? And do you know how stupid you are?”

House’s tone was harsh but the sudden anger he felt toward her was fuelled by the sickening worry he’d never let anyone else see. He couldn’t understand why she’d not told them about her symptoms. She was a doctor; she ought to know what withholding symptoms could cause. But perhaps she just hadn’t told him about it, though Chase and Foreman looked equally uninformed.

She didn’t reply for a moment, her fingers once again tightening on the edge of the glass as a sharp hiss escaped her lips, riding over another wave of pain.

“I’ve been nauseous for a week. Dizziness, this is the first time it’s presented, but I have been held prisoner in bed until now, so who knows if it would have presented earlier. The abdominal pain has been constant but dull up until now. OBGYN said it would be down to…to the…miscarriage.”

She still had trouble acknowledging the fact that she’d lost the baby. And the word ‘miscarriage’ stirred the ache in her heart. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle any baby-cases for a while yet. Well, depending on when they’d let her back to work after this episode. 

Swiftly, House raised his face, that familiar look of dawning realisation gracing his expression and causing her heart to skip a beat. He only got that look when he had some kind of revelation. She waited impatiently for some kind of explanation, desperate for some idea of what was happening to her that the OBGYN could have missed. When she could be more-or-less impartial whilst doing her job, diagnosing and saving other people, when it came to herself, she found it so much harder to view the situation objectively, as many people would, she knew. Right now, she was the one who would possibly be at the receiving end of a battery of intensive tests, so her mind wasn’t so clear.

“Cameron, we need ESR, CBC, BhCG and Fibrinogen levels. Let Chase do a blood test.”

Cameron studied him for a moment, a frown of confusion on her face.

"Why? My hCG levels have been starting to decrease. That's normal."

She didn't understand what House was getting at.  He himself had been the one to tell her, less than twenty-four hours since she'd arrived at the hospital almost six weeks ago, that she'd lost the baby. She hadn't had a D&C and they'd not scheduled one, because it looked as though it wouldn't be needed.

"And schedule an ultra-sound."

House directed to Chase, adding to Cameron's confusion.

"What the hell kind of game is this?"

Cameron asked angrily. If it hadn't been bad enough losing the baby, now he wanted to reopen that still-sore wound? Her hCG levels had been decreasing slowly; though the OBGYN had noted that it didn't usually take so long to return to normal. It had been put down to the trauma she'd suffered though, and they hadn't been worried about it. Now, however, House's piqued interest unnerved her a little. Why did he want her to have an ultra-sound?

"No game, that'd be a bit cruel, don't you think?" At her warning glare, he shook his head and turned serious, "They assumed a miscarriage and all signs pointed to it. What if it wasn't? What if your results were screwed up because of everything else your body was going through."

She could barely process what he was saying and she just stared into space, his words swirling around her head in a misty fog. Coming back to reality, she took a moment to gather her jumbled thought before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"You...think I might not have miscarried?"