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Chapter Sixteen – Connections

“I need to push! Oh God…”

 

It felt like a whirlwind, She’d gone from quietly accepting of the diagnosis with nervous anxiety twisting in her stomach as she pleaded silently for her baby to be alright, to gasping in breathless shock when electric currents of pain ricocheted through her abdomen. The nurses with her had instantly alerted theatre and they moved her from wheelchair to bed in record time.

 

Tears were streaming down her face and she was doing her best not to scream. The pain had increased tenfold in less than ten minutes. The OR was prepped and she was currently being rushed down the corridor as she gripped the metals sides of the bed until her knuckles whitened with the pressure. Her toes curled into the covers and she did her best not to push, under the instruction of the specialist surgeon currently running beside the gurney.

 

“Dr. Cameron, I need you to hold out and fight the urge to push.”

 

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?!”

 

She yelled back, her face red and sweat matting her hair to her forehead. One of the nurses tried to soothe her but the calming words were lost on Cameron and she cried out as another contraction rippled right through her. The foetal heart monitor attached alongside her machine bleeped frantically and she knew exactly what it meant, as much as the other doctors tried to keep their loaded glances to each other as subtle as possible. The baby was in distress, and if they didn’t get it out soon, there was a good chance it wouldn’t just be life-or-death for the baby, but Cameron too. The chances of a haemorrhage were worryingly increasing with every minute the baby was in distress.

 

She was close to passing out due to hyperventilation and she could easily relate it to a panic attack, with the added pain of childbirth. Unable to fight the ever-increasing gripping necessity to push, she let out a strangled cry and gave in to the burning sensation, pushing hard. Instead of relieving some of the pain though, it just strengthened it and Cameron was sure she was dying. The wave that had built quickly was subsiding just as fast and she had a moment to catch her breath. Sucking in air until she felt her lungs might just burst, she could feel the wave building again and readied herself for the sharp edge of agony as it began. Her arms felt weak as she tried to hold herself up and after a few moments she collapsed back against the pillow, trembling with the effort of holding it all together. They couldn’t administer too many drugs until they got the baby out safely, so she was on gas and air, snatching the mask from one of the nurses and pressing it over her nose and mouth. The heady feeling it delivered was a joy. For an instant the pain was once again relieved and she sucked more from the mask desperately.

 

As they crashed through the door to the OR, everyone was ready and waiting for her. She welcomed the sedative they gave her like it was the greatest gift in the world. She had to be awake during the procedure so they could monitor all her vitals, but at least she got the drugs was all she was thinking right now.

 

The numbness was at first just a pleasant and welcome relief, but the sensation was a strange one when she felt no pain whatsoever and instead it felt almost like a washing machine had taken the place of her stomach. She watched for any sign of development from behind the screen they had put up, preventing her from seeing the operation, and she didn’t realise she was holding her breath until her chest started to burn with oxygen deprivation. Letting out a shaky breath, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the tiny baby being lifted above the screen.

 

She held her breath again, straining to hear for any sounds of a screaming baby. She couldn’t move. It was as if her world had come to a standstill as she desperately and silently pleaded that her baby would live. Just one cry was all she needed to hear.

 

“They’re taking the baby to the NICU, Dr. Cameron.”

 

A young woman stood beside her and Cameron guessed her to be no older than early to mid-twenties. Intern, she surmised. And she didn’t want to hear that her baby was going to NICU, she just wanted to hear the child would live.

 

“I want to see my baby…”

 

Cameron demanded groggily, the drugs kicking in immediately as they administered them. She could hear her own heartbeat, her skin felt too sensitive, her senses were acutely heightened. And then black.

 

 

---

 

 

“Someone should be in there with her.”

 

Chase spoke the words that were racing through House’s mind, but instead of agreeing and stepping up, taking the high road and swallowing his pride, he just scowled at Chase. They were stood outside the OR, along with Cuddy and Foreman. Chase was pacing back and forth, driving the rest of them crazy.

 

“Well she doesn’t want you in there, so get over it.”

 

House snapped and Chase paused mid-pace, turning to face his boss slowly. Cuddy glanced sharply at him, almost in warning, and Foreman just shook his head.

 

“I can’t actually believe you just told me to ‘get over it’ – you mean, like you’ve been telling Cameron since Day One? She laid her heart on the line for you. She pushed everyone else away, couldn’t bring herself to love anyone else because she’s so damn caught up on you. She couldn’t even let me in, and at least I’d love her back! She’s in there giving birth to my child and you’re telling me to ‘get over it’. She’s having my baby, but she still wants you, even after everything she’s been through, and you’re still stood out here snarking at us because you’re too fucking proud to take the first step. Ye Gods, you might end up finding happiness. Somehow, I think you’ve reached a new low, House, if that’s even possible.”

 

And with that, Chase stormed off down the corridor, leaving three shocked doctors staring after him. Foreman averted his gaze to the floor, silently but distinctly agreeing with Chase’s defamations. Cuddy dropped her head into her hands, a long sigh passing her lips, before she finally looked up at House.

 

“She just needs someone to hold her hand through this, House, how hard can that be? Yet you’re pushing her out, again. Sometimes, I wonder why she hasn’t taken the initiative and beaten you to death with your own cane. What’s she going to have to do before you admit you have feelings for her? She’s reached out enough times and got burned every single time. She’s going to be dead before you realize what you’re throwing away.”

 

Cuddy stood and followed Chase’s lead down the corridor. She didn’t want the younger doctor doing anything stupid. Right now, the hospital couldn’t be dealing with yet another lawsuit.

 

 

---

 

 

“I was wrong.”

 

She couldn’t hear him; she was unconscious. Part of him realized that was the only reason he felt as though he could finally open up, at least a little, and he rebuked himself for it.

 

She was lying there in the bed, as she had done too much in the last six months, and he had taken hold of her hand. When she had released his hand earlier, before she’d been taken to the OR, he’d felt the loss keenly. And he’d felt the torment in her eyes, the pure hurt and rejection she felt at his response to her, stab right through the walls he’d managed to maintain, hitting right at his centre and leaving him reeling.

 

She was unconscious now, thanks to the heavy sedatives, and his eyes flickered across her face. The scars were barely visible now, but he’d grown so used to them, having memorised every tiny freckle gracing her features, that he barely noticed them anyway. Brunette hair fanned out around her, an almost-peaceful expression settled on her face, and he lovingly reached up, stroking a soft curl resting on her temple, before cupping her cheek in a gentle yet calloused hand.

 

She was like fine porcelain that he was sure would shatter beneath his touch at any second if he didn’t handle her with the greatest care. He knew that if she were awake, he wouldn’t be able to get this close. She’d have backed off the moment he was within touch-proximity, never mind actually getting as far as his fingers on her skin.

 

But she looked at peace for the first time in too long, and he wanted the moment to last forever.

 

“I was wrong,” he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I pushed you away when all I wanted was to hold you closer than anything. I was wrong, but it doesn’t mean I can make it right. That doesn’t mean I don’t care. It might seem that way, but I can tell you can see it, when you look into my eyes the way you do. And you just wish I could say it. This is as close as I’ll come…I love you.”

 

---

 

 

When she started to come to, the steady beep of the machines gently roused her back to consciousness. It took a moment for it all to fall into place and as her eyes fell upon House, déjà vu hit her like a blow to the stomach. Looking down, she realized that it wasn’t a metaphorical pain. Her stomach was bandaged and her bump had dramatically decreased. Silently wondering how long she’d been out of it, her gaze returned to House. She’d dreamed of him, she remembered it as though it were real. He’d told her he loved her. He’d tenderly pressed his lips to her head and stroked her cheek with a touch as soft as a ghost’s kiss.

 

He looked just as intense when he was asleep as he did when he was awake. The handsome lines she’d memorised gracing his face, his skin reminding her of a map, showing the world that his heart had been through more than he’d ever let on, and the way his lips pursed slightly. She noticed all of these things in the near-silence of the room, the quiet contemplation only agitated by the instinct in her that reminded her of the baby she’d given birth to. Or rather, that they’d taken from her. Bubbles of tension began to rise within her and she shifted gingerly in the bed, wondering if she had a chance of making out of the room and toward the NICU before House woke up and stopped her.

 

Almost on cue, House stirred in the uncomfortable excuse of a comfy chair, and his eyes instantly met hers. Neither of them moved for a moment, some kind of unspoken, unseen electricity charging the room with tension. It was as if both had the feeling something had changed between them, yet on the surface stayed exactly the same as it was and always would be.

 

“Hi.”

 

His voice was low, raw and strained with sleep. The mist of sleep drowsiness was lifting quickly though and he sat up straight.

 

“How long have I been-?”

 

“Not that long; two or three hours. You needed the rest, you were exhausted.”

 

She regarded him for a moment. She was trying to read him, which was damn near impossible on the best of days, but she was anxious to know what had happened to her baby in the ‘two or three hours’ she’d been out-of-it.

 

“I’ll take you to NICU, come on.”

 

He hauled himself to his feet and with some help from the bed, trying not to wince as his leg protested at the sudden jolt of movement, helped Cameron slide out of the covers and into the wheelchair waiting for her. She accepted the help gratefully, the small, tight smile she offered him being as much as she could give right now, with her mind running through all sorts of scenarios right now. Her baby could be alive; her baby could be dead. He or she could be brain damaged from the deprivation of oxygen during the placental abruption, not to mention the trauma from the assault; but then again, there could be no complications and she could have a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby.

 

 

---

 

 

“Dr. Cameron, I’m assuming you’re here to see your baby.”

 

The kindly NICU nurse with the warm smile and gentle eyes ushered them toward one of the larger incubators at the far end and quietly prepared Cameron for how fragile and tiny her child would seem, surrounded by all the machines and wires. But Cameron didn’t even hear her comforting words as her gaze fell upon the incubator ahead, “Cameron” stated clearly on the chart it held. The regular hum of the machines breathing for her baby were the only thing resonating through her mind and her eyes pricked with sharp tears that she fought back. She hadn’t even seen the baby yet, and still the emotional pressure was weighing heavily. House pushed the wheelchair slowly, and she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to thank him for his careful concern, obviously trying to let her adjust to the sight ahead slowly, or just let the scream of painful emotion bubbling inside her erupt in his direction, make him the scapegoat for the helplessness she was afflicted with.

 

As they approached the incubator, House couldn’t hold back his inherent medical curiosity and picked up the chart, flipping through it slowly. Cameron didn’t even seem to register it, her eyes glued to the tiny baby, smaller than an average child’s doll, overshadowed by the wires snaking everywhere.

 

“Dr. Cameron…you have a beautiful little girl.”

 

The nurse softly told her, a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she left her alone to take it all in. House watched the range of emotions cross Cameron’s face and yet again a string in his heart snapped, jolting ripples of poignant anguish through him until he found himself stood beside her once again, his hand reaching down of its own accord to grasp hers. He was somewhat surprised, but at the same time relieved, when he felt the slight pressure of her small hand grasping back. She looked up at him with eyes that haunted him, torment clearly residing behind them, but he also saw a glimmer of hope and he wasn’t sure which of these sentiments cut him deeper.

 

“You have a beautiful little girl.”

 

He said quietly, looking down into her eyes, repeating the words of the nurse. She managed a weak attempt at a smile, before her attention fell back on her daughter. She was premature, had a machine breathing for her, and it was too early to tell if she’d suffered any long-term brain damage as a result of the birth and the trauma earlier in Cameron’s pregnancy. But she was still fighting. There was a flicker of hope that her daughter would pull through, continue fighting just like her mother had.

Managing to roll a little closer, Cameron reached up and carefully slid her hand into the hole on the side of the incubator. The moment her fingers made contact with her daughter’s delicate skin, still red and with her eyes tightly shut, hot tears fell from Cameron’s eyes and burnt trails down her cheeks as she silently cried, tears of both happiness and pain. Her daughter was alive, after all the torment and devastation of the past year of her life; there was some kind of hope on the horizon.

 

---

 

“Do you wanna…?”

Cameron looked expectantly up at House and he understood her question clearly. Faltering, he looked from Cameron to the baby and back. He felt some kind of inexplicable sense of magnetism drawing him to the child and he didn’t know why. Whether it was solely to do with the fact that the child was a part of Cameron and with her the magnetism was a given, or if it was to do with the fact that deep down, he wished he’d been the one who could stand beside Cameron, look down at the baby and feel a sense of love and tenderness by being able to call the child his too. But it was Chase who had been a part of the tiny miracle’s creation, not him. Yet again in his life, he found himself resenting his choices, resenting that he’d pushed Cameron away so many times that she’d fallen into the arms of the man who’s child he was no looking down at.

Nevertheless, he found his hand gently pushing into the incubator, baby-soft skin beneath his fingertips. It was at his touch that the baby, despite the wires and machines, wriggled her fingers and with a miniature hand, wrapped them around House’s. Cameron was watching silently, more tears streaming like a river down her cheeks. The sight before her touched her heart. This was all she’d ever wanted. Stepping out of the reality of it all, just the image of her child grasping House’s hand, as though identifying the man who should have been her father, it was easy to play make-believe, in a world where it was all as simple as a still-life picture. And the picture before her would forever be in her memory.


...On to Chapter Seventeen [Friends]...