Disclaimer: House, Wilson and the other characters do not belong to me.

AN- Written for the House Het ficathon last year for hermiones twin. I apologize for the extreme lateness. I took some liberties with the medical side as I didn't want to go into much detail.

Wanted: angst, ramen and 'Don't stand so close to me' by the Police

Not wanted: smut, Cameron/House, "differential diagnosis"

Another Day in Paradise

The fact that the shower was already running when Wilson woke up should have been his first clue that today was not going to be an ordinary day. Groaning, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep. The night before the two of them had watched some show that Wilson couldn't even remember until at least three a.m. Well, House had watched it while Wilson had tried to sleep through it to little success.

"Wilson! Get up!" House shouted from the bathroom. "I know you're awake!"

Rolling his eyes, Wilson shifted again to try and get back to sleep. He had at least an hour before he was due in work, according to the television, so why couldn't he spend it in bed like most other people? Well, on the couch anyway.

"Now," said House, limping out of the bathroom to the couch. Wilson looked up and was surprised to find that House was already dressed and was rubbing a towel over his face with one hand while he leaned against the back of the couch with the other.

"What happened?" Wilson asked, sitting up. The only reason House would get up before he did was if he had an interesting case, or if there was an emergency of some kind. Wilson was betting on the former.

House didn't respond, only limped over to the closet and grabbed his jacket. Wilson tried a different approach.

"Usually you like being late."

"No, I like pissing Cuddy off by walking in late," House said, throwing the towel over his shoulder. Wilson wisely moved his feet and stood up as House continued, "What I don't like is Cuddy calling me while I'm still getting my beauty sleep and telling me to get into work or I'm out of a job."

"So she blackmailed you? You two do that to each other at least twice a day."

House turned around and studied Wilson for several seconds before speaking.

"There's an emergency, that's all she told me," House said at last. "Now get dressed, and let's go."

Twenty minutes later, they passed through the doors of the hospital and found an eerie silence hovering over the entranceway. There were few patients waiting in the Clinic. No one was smiling. Everyone seemed to be avoiding each other, or even looking at each other.

House walked over to the nurse's station and tapped his cane against the side. A young nurse glanced up at him and immediately looked away again. Wilson spotted Foreman and Chase in the Clinic. Both of them looked at him, glanced at House and looked away. They looked almost guilty and hastily found a patient and retreated into an Exam Room out of sight.

"House!"

Both House and Wilson turned to see Cuddy exit the elevator and head towards her office. She gestured at House to follow her and as a second thought, held the door open for Wilson too.

"So, Doctor Cuddy," House said as she closed the door behind them. "What's the emergency? Did you finally give in and get—"

"Shut up, House," she told him. Wilson frowned at watched as she headed towards her desk. She looked tired and drained, like she'd been up for hours – which she probably had – and wouldn't admit that she too, was human and needed a little thing called sleep every now and again.

"What happened?" House asked, moving towards her desk. He too, had apparently noticed Cuddy's exhaustion and figured out that something was wrong.

She sat behind her desk and looked down at the papers in front of her, avoiding looking at either of the two men.

"Something's happened," House urged, moving closer so he could attempt to see her face.

"Last night," she started, refusing to look at either of them, "Doctor Cameron was admitted to the ER with possible broken ribs and a head trauma. She's in the ICU right now…"

House was silent for a moment and when she didn't go on, he spoke softly, "There's more."

"House..." Cuddy sounded too tired to deal with him and Wilson took a step back towards the door, not really wanting to hear the rest. If she'd saved something for last then it was probably really bad news.

"There's something else you're not telling us," said House, raising his voice slightly.

"She was raped."

Utter silence is not something you often hear when House and Cuddy are in the same room as each other. Half the time it's not something you hear when within ten feet of both of them, and yet it descended on the room in an instant. House stood staring at Cuddy, while Cuddy stared at the papers in front of her and Wilson just stood watching them both. After more than a minute of silence, when it was obvious neither was going to be speaking anytime soon, Wilson stepped forward.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked.

Cuddy looked up, surprised, like she had forgotten he was even there and nodded, "She's stable for now, but she took quite a beating."

House remained silent. Slowly, without a word to either of them, he turned and walked out of the room. Wilson watched him until he disappeared out of sight.

"Has she said anything?" he asked.

Cuddy shook her head, "Not yet."

Wilson found House in his office, staring out the window at nothing. He was tapping his cane thoughtfully with one finger and holding his toy ball with the other, squeezing it every few seconds and then releasing it.

"Are you going to see her?" Wilson asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Why would I do that?" House replied, now throwing the ball up into the air and catching it.

"Maybe because… you're her boss… and she looks up to you?" Wilson raised an eyebrow and ventured further into the office.

House snorted and glanced over at his shoulder. "'Looks up to you'? Good one, Jimmy. Like that wasn't completely obvious."

"So you're not in the least bit curious?"

"Nope."

"And you don't want to know what…?"

"My God, you're so subtle I can hardly believe it took me this long to figure it out."

"Huh? Figure what out?"

House gripped his cane and stood up. "If you wanted an audience with her, you could've just asked. You know, like normal people."

Wilson watched him limp out the door, confused and interested by what he meant and where he was going. Curiosity won and he followed House to the ICU, making sure to stay a few steps behind in case House suddenly changed his mind.

"So now you're going to see her?"

"No," House opened the door and used his cane to push Wilson inside the room. "You are."

Cameron had been looking outside the window, trying to will herself to stop thinking about the past twelve hours. So far, it wasn't working too well. Her ribs hurt like her, reminding her that she couldn't just go home and forget about everything that had happened. The door opened. She jumped and snapped her head round to see who it was. She could feel the fear stirring at the bottom of her stomach, and for a moment, she froze.

Wilson stood in the doorway, surprise clear on his face. She opened her mouth to speak to him but stopped when she found she couldn't think of anything to say. The door closed behind him and he moved over to stand beside the bed. He studied her face for several moments, and her face grew hot as his gaze moved to her neck and down her arms to where she clasped her hands tightly together. So tight her knuckles were white, she noticed and tried to force herself to relax.

There was silence for several moments. She didn't know what to say to him, and apparently neither did he. Word had probably got around the hospital that one of the doctors had been attacked, but so far, no one had come to see her about it except her doctor, who had told her to take it easy and left as soon as possible.

"I guess 'Are you okay?' would sound a little… well, stupid," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. She managed to smile at him and watched as his eyes focused on her face, or more specifically, her jaw. "Do you want to talk?" he asked, frowning at her.

She stopped smiling instantly as the memory surfaced again and the pain intensified. Her ribs now felt like they were on fire, and when she tried to move, the pain got worse and worse until she would do anything to make it stop. Tears sprang unbidden to the corners of her eyes as she leaned forward, trying to curl into a ball on instinct.

Unfamiliar hands pushed against her shoulders, trying to straighten her out. She tried to speak, tell them that her ribs hurt but when she looked up, her tears blurred her vision and she snapped her eyes shut again. At the back of her mind, she knew that she was safe, but there was a part of her that was waiting for the pain to start again. A voice was talking in her ear, she tried to turn away from it, but she couldn't move; someone was holding her still. And then the darkness took over.

When Wilson had first seen her, he'd been shocked at how badly beaten up she was. Cuddy had said that Cameron had possible broken ribs and a head injury, but she hadn't mentioned anything about taking a beating. Cameron had a black eye and deep bruising down the left side of her face and jaw, as if someone had either thrown her against a wall or hit her in the exact same spot again and again. There were also bruises around her neck that looked a lot like handprints and scratches all over her arms.

He hadn't wanted to stare while she'd been awake or upset her, for that matter, by staring. He hadn't thought though, that she didn't want to talk about it. The idea had crossed his mind that maybe she was too scared to talk about it. In any case, he was distracted that morning, he hadn't gone back to see her, and to his knowledge, neither had House or the others. She'd been knocked out by the higher dose of painkillers anyway, so there would be nothing to do but sit and wait. And he doubted she wanted to wake up to someone watching her in her sleep after being violated.

He went back that afternoon, though, just to check on her. Her condition had improved and she'd been moved from the ICU and into a regular ward. She was also awake, lying on her side facing the doorway and offered a small smile as he shut the door behind him.

"Feeling better?" he asked as he sat by the bed. He had an urge to reach out and grab her file from the end of the bed but stopped and forced his hands into the pockets of his coat.

"A little," she replied, shifting so she could see his face. He noticed she winced as she moved but chose not to comment on it and waited patiently as she continued, "They want to keep me in for a day or two to make sure there's no more damage from…" she raised a hand and pointed to the gauze on the side of her head.

He thought back to that morning when House had shoved him into the room and then refused to go in himself when he'd heard that she was awake again. Afterwards, Cuddy had tracked them both down and shoved another case at House telling him of a patient that had conflicting symptoms. House had disappeared into the Clinic to find the rest of his team and Wilson had used most of his day to catch up on paperwork. Most of which was still sitting on his desk, waiting to be completed.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked softly.

"Talk about what?" she replied, confusion clouding her face.

"What happened," he said.

"Nothing happened," she said with a shrug that was immediately followed by another wince.

"Really?" Eyebrows raised, he glanced at her side and then at her jaw again.

"Really," she told him. "All that happened was I tripped and fell down a flight of stairs."

"You tripped…" If it was possible, his eyebrows rose even more and almost disappeared into his hairline. "And fell…"

"Yeah."

"So you weren't… attacked?" He didn't want to mention the word 'rape', particularly if he was wrong, which he was beginning to think he was. She frowned at him, confused and then the frown disappeared as she realized what he was talking about.

"You think I was…?" She looked away from him.

"It was what I was told," he said quickly.

"You think I was raped?" she asked.

He ducked his head, his hands curled into fists in his pockets. Now he had no idea what to say to her, so he waited in silence for her to speak first.

Cuddy didn't find House in his office, or in Wilson's office, or in the clinic, or anywhere. She'd paged him several times, checked with Foreman and Chase and still couldn't find him. She had nurses on watch in the clinic, but naturally, the last place she looked was, of course, where he was. She knew she should've thought of it first, but she didn't think that he would actually go to the room. Half the time he wouldn't even see his own patients, let alone anyone else's.

She found him waiting outside, staring into Cameron's room. As Cuddy approached, she noticed Wilson was inside, talking to her.

"She's awake," House stated. He turned to Cuddy. "Why are you here?"

"Same as you," she answered. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the room.

"You have a file in your hands," he said, tapping his cane on the floor, "Which probably means you want me to work on a case. While one of my team is in the hospital?"

"It's a distraction," she told him, and held the file in front of him.

He stared at it. She could see his eyes trying to read the name to see if the patient's name was anything interesting and covered the tag with her fingers. He took it and slipped it under one arm. When he made no effort to move, she looked up at him. He sighed and started walking down the corridor towards the elevator.

She waited until he was out of sight and glanced back into the room to see Wilson stand up and head for the door.

"How is she?" Cuddy asked as he closed the door behind him. Wilson scanned the corridor for House and gave her a curious look. "I gave him a case, to keep him occupied."

"Oh," Wilson replied. He looked back into the room, where Cameron was asleep. "She's tired, and a little embarrassed. I asked if she had been attacked."

"Does she remember?"

"She says that she fell down a flight of stairs," he said. "She wouldn't say about anything else. What about the rape kit?"

"There was definite evidence of sex," Cuddy said quietly. "But why would she…"

"Why would she lie?" Wilson finished for her.

Cuddy could practically hear House's voice saying, "Because everybody lies" and hoped that for once, he was wrong.

The next morning, Cameron woke feeling slightly better than the day before, even though it was four a.m. and her head was splitting open. After half an hour of trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in now that most of the drugs had worn off, she gave up and sat up, wincing when her ribs ached in protest. She knew she shouldn't be sitting up right now, but no matter which side she lay on, the pain was still there. Besides, it wouldn't be long before the interns started making their rounds.

Neither the ache in her side or the pain in her head hadn't dulled by the time half five rolled around and a small woman slipped into the room. She smiled at Cameron and Cameron tried to explain about the pain but instead she found her vision blurring as the woman checked the IV and marked something down in her chart before leaving the room.

Cameron knew she must have fallen asleep again because the next thing she remembered was House barging into the room with a confused Foreman and a bored Chase in tow. She stared at them for a moment before House started talking about a case. She mentally groaned. Here she was, lying in the hospital where she worked and he still wanted her to work? She tuned out most of what he was saying, even when he was banging the side of the bed with his cane. She tuned that out too.

It was a while before the noise died down and she heard someone talking softly.

"Cameron?"

It sounded like Wilson so she opened her eyes and found him sitting next to the bed. She looked around for House and the others, wondering what had happened to them. Wilson smiled at her.

"I threw them out," he said, "And I brought you something."

She tried to speak, but her throat was dry and all that came out was a cough. He reached for the water jug sitting on the cabinet next to her bed and poured her a glass. She nodded her thanks as he handed it to her and she took a sip. The water soothed her throat.

"So, what…" she asked, her voice hoarse.

He held up a radio and smiled at her. She grinned back and coughed again.

"There's no TV in here," he said, setting it on the cabinet next to the jug. "And since I didn't know when you were going to be discharged…"

She smiled as he plugged it in and turned the volume down while he found a station.

"Wait," she said when she heard a song she recognized. "Leave it on that."

He turned the volume up slightly, and she smiled as The Police's song, 'Don't Stand so Close to Me' played softly. She closed her eyes and wondered whether she should tell him about what happened the other night. She heard him sit next to the bed and decided that she would explain what had happened. She would explain how she had picked up a guy she didn't know in a bar, gone back to his apartment, had sex and how when she was leaving, the elevator hadn't been working and she had had to take the stairs. But she wouldn't explain now, her head hurt too much. She'd explain later, and she knew that he would listen but first she needed to sleep.

Wilson tucked the small plastic box of food under his arm as he stepped off the elevator. Well, at least House wouldn't be trying to steal it from him, as Wilson had discovered the previous night that House did not like ramen at all. He smiled as he remembered the look on his roommate's face when he had said that he was going to order out instead of cook. House hadn't liked it at all. Even when Wilson had been digging in to his pork ramen, House had been glaring daggers at him and Wilson was sure that he could hear House plotting his revenge. Well, it did serve the bastard right when he was trying to make Cameron work when she was in no state to.

Nobody looked his way twice as Wilson ducked into Cameron's room. Despite the fact that she wasn't one of his patients, he still felt obligated to bring her real food instead of letting her suffer from the crap that was hospital food. He was surprised today, however, to find her out of bed, already dressed and slipping a light purple sweater over her head. She winced as she did so.

"What are you doing?" he asked, setting the box on the bed next to a bag of other clothes.

"Cuddy came by earlier," Cameron said as she sat on the bed. "She said I could go home and rest there, since there's nothing wrong with me."

Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"My ribs," she told him, "are bruised. They'll heal in about two or three weeks provided I don't do anything to them and there isn't anything wrong with my head, except a small bump so…" she shrugged and slipped her hands into her pockets. "I've got some painkillers and I'm going home."

"Oh… right," he looked away, unsure of what to do now his original purpose had been thrown out the window. He turned towards the door.

"Wilson?" she asked, softly. He stopped and glanced at her. She stepped towards him and made a point of raising her arms around his shoulders so that she could hug him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

He rested his hands lightly on her back and he smiled into her shoulder.

"You're welcome."

End