Disclaimer: Neither House nor Firestarter belong to me as much as I wish they did. House belongs to it's producers and Firestarter belongs to Stephan King.

I read the book Firestarter and enjoyed it so much that I wanted to write a fic about it. I also love House and wanted to combine the two. This story centers around Cameron, but includes the other characters too. House might be a bit OOC, but he's hard to write. However, this story doesn't center completely on him. Please R&R, but be nice it's my first fic.

Story takes place right after the episode Airborne. Contains spoilers up to the episode.

House: "Gorgeous women do not go to medical school. Unless they're as damaged as they are beautiful. Were you abused by a family member?"
Cameron: "No."
House: "Sexually assaulted?"
Cameron: "No."
House: "But you are damaged, aren't you?"

Spark

I stood there watching the barn burn. The conflagration seemed to reach beyond the sky. It had become unstoppable even for me. Watching it burn I muttered under my breath, "For you, Daddy." I felt a strange satisfaction of watching the place where my Daddy and I had been held captive for half a year burn. I was even happier to know that I had started that fire. Suddenly from the barn, I heard a rustling noise.

I walked towards the barn hoping against hope that the noise was my Daddy. Perhaps he wasn't dead. Perhaps he had just fainted or something. Suddenly, someone emerged from the flames. It wasn't my Father. It was John. John, who had betrayed me, was covered in my flames, but was coming closer and closer to me with each step. I tried to let out the power to beat him back with more fire, but for the first time in my life the power refused to come.

In seconds, John grabbed a hold of me. His flesh was black and falling to pieces, but it seemed as if he would never die. He snarled at me and muttered,

"Charlie, I want to see your eyes as you die."

The fire had caught my jumper and I fought to get free. It was quickly spreading. I couldn't stop it. I screamed for help, but no one would help me. I had almost killed all of them and not entirely on accident. Suddenly, I felt the power return. I pushed out as hard as possible and struck John. The fire that was consuming him began to glow blue with heat. He let go and began to scream in agony.

Then I remembered the flames licking their way up my clothes. The heat was beginning to overwhelm me. I could feel sweat rolling down my face and body. If I didn't get the fire out soon, it would burn me alive. Just like John. I started to beat the flames madly, trying to put them out. Nothing was working. My frustration was only causing more power to leap out and build up the heat. What was I going to do? The heat was becoming too much.

Princeton, New Jersey

I sat up drenched in sweat. The sheets were twisted around my legs and were soaked. I could smell the smoke coming from the headboard of my bed. I had lit it on fire again. I quickly stood up and pulled one of my many fire extinguishers from the wall. Luckily it was a small fire and it hadn't burned me.

After putting the fire out, I glanced at the clock. I had eight minutes till I needed to get ready for work. Not enough time to go back to sleep. I turned a fan on in my room to help dispel the smoke and walked out to my kitchenette. Moving over to my coffee maker, I pour myself a cup. I made this brew yesterday so it's gone stone cold. I glance over at the window in habit. Nobody is watching me. After my glance towards the window, I turn back to my cold coffee. My eyes lock on it and it begins to simmer. I'm actually pretty good at making small amounts of heat with no emotional input.

I sit down to watch the morning news. Not too many big stories for which I'm grateful. It's nice not to see your name on every news report. I quickly dress and try to keep my mind from wandering, but it's hard. Today is going to be a hard day. Today would have been my Father's birthday if he wasn't dead. Normally on this day, I get drunk in my apartment which keeps the bad dreams at bay. However, I have to go to work so maybe throwing myself into my work will help me cope.

Fifteen minutes before I normally arrive at work, I leave my apartment. It's a nice sunny day, but I could care less. I really wish my Father were here, but he's not. I blast the radio to try and keep my thoughts on work. At least my Boss will be able to distract me enough. I spend a lot of my time either working his crazy schemes or trying to prevent them. Finally, I pull into the hospital. I park in my spot which is rather far from the building. After all, I'm not handicapped or hurt in any way. I can walk just fine.

I don't look at the name plate in front of my parking spot. It has my new name on it. I legally changed it when I turned fifteen with the help of my guardians. My real name is Charlene "Charlie" McGee, but most people know me as Allison Cameron. Most days the name doesn't bother me, but today I feel like I let my Father down by changing it. Oh well, just ignore it and it might go away. I walk into the hospital and remember to make niceties with the nurses and other doctors. If I didn't, they'd know something was wrong. They think I'm always happy.

I'm the first of my colleagues to arrive so I sit down and start going through my Boss's mail. He told me my first day that sorting the mail was also my job. I'm so used to it now that I don't really care. I almost got in trouble on my second day while sorting because I set one of the letters on fire. Thankfully, it was junk and I could throw it away. Nobody was ever the wiser.

The door opens behind me and one of my colleagues walks in. Eric Foreman walks over and drinks the coffee I made earlier. Another one of my jobs. He then settles down to read the paper. We're good friends, but haven't got much to talk about yet. Finally, Robert Chase enters through the door. He's the last of the colleagues besides our Boss who will probably be late. Chase doesn't give me even a small smile. We just stopped sleeping together. He wanted more of a relationship, but I couldn't give him that. I care for him very deeply and that is why I can't give him anymore. As long as I have pyrokinesis, I'm a danger to people. Usually I can control it, but unbridled emotions can cause dangerous spurts of power. I can't afford to be in love.

After I met my first husband, I knew he was going to die. If I hadn't married him, he would have been alone. I hate being alone and would never wish it on anyone. One our wedding night while making love, I set part of the hotel room on fire. I told my husband my story that night and he promised not to tell. I guess I'm afraid that Chase will be so horrified by my power that I will lose him entirely. What if he told someone? I like my life here and I don't really want to move. I don't want to run anymore.

Finally, fifteen minutes late, our boss, Gregory House limps in. He recently pretended to have brain cancer to get a new form of high. His vicodin just isn't doing much for him anymore. I was really upset over the thought of losing the man I had come to have feelings for, but I probably felt the most hurt or anger of his deception. Yes, he's in pain, but he's not the only person who has problems. I've been betrayed before and discovering his lie was like reliving the whole experience all over again.

House hobbles over and takes the pile of significant mail that I give him. He then dry swallows another vicodin. I can only imagine how many he's had today. I'm surprised and annoyed when the man doesn't put up a case. How can this be happening? The one day that I need something to distract me is the one day that we don't have a case. I'm not really surprised. Fate decided that it didn't like me a long time ago. Suddenly I have a grand idea to distract myself. I turn to House.

"Don't you have clinic duty all day today?"

House looks annoyed that I would mention it. I think he was going to pretend to forget about it. Like Cuddy would let him get away with that. Recently it's been, if Cuddy has to perjure herself in court she owns your ass. Imagine what she'd think if she had to testify that I was or wasn't Allison Cameron. Obviously she doesn't know about my true identity, but I can imagine how much I'd have to pay her to swear that I really was Allison Cameron. That is if she knew the truth. Never mind, back to my brilliant idea.

"Yes, I do. Thank you so much, Dr. Cameron, for reminding me."

I try to ignore his tone. Maybe his tone is why I fell in love with him. Unlike John, he's never tried to be anything he wasn't. House doesn't try to be someone else. He is as rude as he wants to be and I love knowing where I stand with him. However, his little stunt with Tritter and the brain cancer threw him down a few notches on my feelings ladder. He had lied to me just like John did. I had better get back to my idea because thinking about John still makes me want to cry. After all, he killed my Father.

Seeing that we had no case, Foreman left to go check on other patients and probably do some of his clinic duty. Chase left to work in the NICU. I personally don't know if I could work in the NICU, I think it would upset me too much. Finally alone with my Boss, I decided to finally steal his clinic duty. It would give me something to do until I could go home and get drunk. I wish I could take Chase home and screw him like crazy. That would certainly keep my mind off my Father. After all, the last thing a woman wants to think about while having sex is her Father.

I tried to steal the clinic duty without raising any questions.

"If your leg hurt too much today, I'll take your clinic duty for today."

I should have realized that any such comment coming from one of his underlings would raise his suspicions. Recently, none of us had been too fond of him. And none of us was volunteering to help him out. Now I was.

"What do I have to do for you to do that, Dr. Cameron? Let you have your way with me?"

I shook my head. House really didn't need to know anything about my Father or my real past. Actually, if he knew the truth, it might kill him.

"Look, you seem extra irritable and I don't want to force that on any poor unsuspecting sick person. I'll sign in with one of the nurse who I'm friends with. She'll say it was you if I ask her too."

House looked even more suspicious. He opened his mouth as if to question my reasoning again, but I cut him off quickly.

"Well, I guess if you really want to work the clinic then I'll go check on some other patients and then go home. I heard that colds were going around the local grade schools and preschools, so you'll have lots of worried Moms to deal with."

That seemed to be the deal breaker. House nodded and agreed to give me his duty.

"Just don't forget to make sure Cuddy thinks it's me. Don't make any girly G's when you sign my name."

I nodded and left quickly. I assumed that he would either hide in his office or go bother Wilson. I just hoped that he wouldn't tell Wilson about my strange behavior. I've heard that Wilson has a way of getting information out of women. And I've heard that the information extraction can be very very wonderful for all parties.

The clinic is very busy just like I said. A lot of small children with their worried Moms were filling the place. I walked over and made my deal with Nurse Linda. She agreed to keep it quiet probably because she felt bad for me. My first case was a little girl named Shari. She had a cold and I could tell, but her Mom hadn't brought her in. Her Dad did. Just what I needed was to see, a loving Dad taking care of his little girl. However, the Dad also believed that it was probably a cold so the appointment didn't take long.

I had six more cases before I took a break. I went outside and got a cup of coffee. It wasn't hot enough so I gave it a small push of power. It soon came to a rolling boil. I let it cool for a minute before sipping on it. I heard the door open and Chase came out. He was probably taking a break and hadn't expected me to be here. Discomfort causes me to suddenly want nothing more than to be at Granther's cabin on Tashmore Pond. It was the last time my Father and I were truly happy together. I wondered slightly if my Curious George books were still there.

I suddenly turned on Chase.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"I'm sorry too. Are you sure you don't want to try having more of a relationship? Who knows, it could be even more fun than the sex." He looked sad and I felt for him. He had bared his soul to me and I was going have to step on it again.

"I can't do that. I'm sorry, but I just can't." I stare down at my feet and wish things were different.

"It's because of House isn't it? You're just trying to make him jealous and you don't care who you hurt in the process."

"No, it's not that. I don't want to hurt you anymore and I don't want a relationship with House. I just…" I trailed off, stood up, and hurried inside; back to work.

I hurried into the clinic and Nurse Linda handed me a file. The man's name was Orville Jamison. His ailment was a sore throat and an old dog bite that had never fully healed was infected. I walked into the room with a doctor smile on my face. The man sat on the table and I saw his face. It was a face that I would recognize anywhere, but hadn't seen in over twenty years.

I felt my heart literally stop. I think it might have for a few seconds. It then sped up to over 120 bpm. This was the face of man I had once set on fire at the Mander's farm outside of Hastings Glen. I had also seen him climb over the fence during his escape from my reign of fire on the SHOP. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to burn this man to a crisp. I wanted to make him pay for trying to kill my Father at the Mander's farm those years ago. That feeling passed with a reminder of my Hippocratic Oath, "Do No Harm".

I forced myself to focus. Now more than ever, I needed to remember that I wasn't Charlene McGee anymore. I wasn't even Charlie. I was Dr. Allison Cameron. I dyed my hair dark brown and wore brown contacts. I had changed a lot since the last time I had seen OJ as he liked to be called. I turned to him and had to bite back an angry remark, but instead said,

"Mr. Jamison, I'm Dr. Cameron. What seems to be the problem?"

OJ gave me a small smile. "My throat hurts like crazy and a dog bite on my arm has been itching like crazy."

"Let me take a look at both."

OJ first let me look down his throat and then at his arm. I immediately figured that they were related. The dog bite was infected and the infection had spread to his body. It had given him a sore throat. I explained this to him calmly and then wrote him a prescription for an antibiotic. It would help clear up the infection. I also told him to take it easy for a few days.

OJ got up and took the script. He gave me another smile which made me want to hit him.

"Thanks, Doc."

As he left, I responded, "Welcome, OJ. Remember to take it easy." The word OJ had just slipped out, but he heard it. I didn't know if he still went by OJ, but that didn't really matter.

"How'd you know my nickname, Doc?" He seemed as nervous as I was.

"I guessed it. You'd better go and fill that script." I tried hard to keep the fear out of my voice, but I could feel it creeping in. I quickly turned and faced a different direction. The less he saw of my face now the better. He didn't seem to believe my story, but he also didn't seem to want to question it further. He just wanted to leave.

I watched him leave. He crossed the lobby to check out and fill the script before coming to a complete stop. He turned around and stared at me with huge eyes. The realization had dawned on him. It had hit him like a ton of bricks. He recognized me. He then turned back around and continued to head to the checkout desk. Suddenly he stopped again, but didn't turn around. Actually, he fell straight forward and began to convulse.

My doctor senses kicked in immediately. I rushed to him and turned him on his side. I held on to him and screamed for some medication. A nurse rushed it to me as Dr. Wilson and Dr. Foreman came up. Both had been in the clinic at that moment. I administered the medication while Foreman helped hold him still. Wilson was calling for a gurney. OJ was going to have to be admitted.

Before the gurney arrived, OJ had stopped shaking and was slightly conscious. He stared up at Wilson, Foreman and me. Foreman was talking to him, but OJ's eyes were focused on me. As the gurney arrived, he began to lose consciousness again before muttering the one thing I hoped he would never say. Wilson and Foreman heard the name leave his lips, but neither connected it with me.

"Charlie"

After muttering my old name, OJ lost consciousness completely. At the moment, the word Charlie meant nothing, but when OJ regained consciousness someone was bound to ask who Charlie was. I just had to make sure that I got to talk to OJ first. I had to convince him that Charlie was gone and he had to remember that. As OJ was taken away, I felt a need to release the power. I needed to set a fire so I hurried from the room. I quickly made my way into the parking lot and climbed into my car. I pulled a bottle of water from the back seat and a bowl. Yes, I keep these things in my car. One never knows when one will need to boil water. I poured the water and pushed hard. It immediately went up in steam. Less than a minute later, the bottled water was completely gone, but the power was still there.

I got out of the car and crept behind the hospital. For once, no nurses or doctors were smoking behind the hospital. They must have all been on one of the roofs. I walked over to the trash dumpster. It was filled with newspapers, trash, old food and other things. Things that hopefully wouldn't explode if they spontaneously combusted. I took a few steps away and concentrated. The trash dumpster's contents began to burn. I could feel the heat and smell the smoke. The trash burned with a bad smell, but it didn't bother me. Getting the fire out felt so good I could hardly stand it. I watched the fire grow hotter and the dumpster began to twist and bend as it burned also. It burned like those cement blocks that I had destroyed for Hockstetter. Finally, I knew it was enough. I pulled back slowly and slowed it down. Hopefully I wouldn't need any water. It didn't want to be let off, but I used sheer force of will.

(BACK OFF!!! WILL YOU!!! BACK OFF!!!)

Finally, it responded. The heat receded and I felt it finally die. The trash dumpster was in ruins. It would have to be replaced. I felt somewhat guilty about that, but I justified it that if I hadn't done it I would surly have destroyed the hospital. Better an old metal container than a building filled with patients and friends. I quickly left the area. Someone would soon see the fire and I needed to be as far from the place as possible.

I rounded the building and came back in from a different door. I quickly headed back to House's office. OJ would probably become our patient and I was going to be needed to solve his case. As I headed up the stairs, I heard a nurse shout about a fire outside in the dumpster. I heard the fire department being called, but for once I didn't care. All I cared about was getting to work. I was going to be saving a man I didn't like and doing damage control over what had and could possibly come out of that man's mouth.

I was the last person to go into House's office. Symptoms and causes were already written up on the board. Infection, sore throat, enlarged tonsils, seizures, fever, and burns were all up. The burns must have been the skin graphs that he had required after Mander's farm. Maybe everyone thought that those skin graphs were part of the problem. I quickly entered and sat down. My skin was damp from sweating and I thought I saw a small look of jealousy cross Chase's face.

"Glad you could join us, Dr. Cameron. Come on, people, what else?"

I decided to stay low on this one. I honestly had no clue as to what could be making OJ ill. Normally, I'd have suggestions popping out of my mouth, but not right now. All I had was a strange ill will towards the man. If he died then my identity would stay with him into the ground. I quickly chastised myself for that thought. I've dealt with death enough to never wish it on someone.

Everyone besides me was producing suggestions right and left. Foreman wanted to check the man for STDs and test for the Epstein Barr virus. Either of those might be able to cause some of the symptoms. Chase guessed it was a regular infection that had become a whopping ass kicking infection. Then all eyes were on me. The other two had had ideas and now it was turn. And I couldn't think of a thing to say so I said the first autoimmune disease that popped into my head.

"It could be lupus."

Now the earlier stares were even worse. My idea had sucked and everyone knew it. The symptoms didn't fit lupus and everyone, including me, knew it.

"Thank you, Dr. Cameron, for mentioning what it isn't. Test for Epstein Barr and find out when this man's last date was. Maybe one of his dates or hookers or whatever had gonorrhea or syphilis. Start him on erythromycin for the infection."

We quickly left the room and hurried to carry out orders. I called out that I would take the patient history when he woke up and then hurried off to OJ's room. I entered the room to see the still sleeping OJ. He looked peaceful and unworried. I doubted that he would be that calm if he knew that I was in his room. I sighed slightly. I was going to have to do something that could get my license taken if I was caught.

I reached over and turned off the medication that was keeping him asleep. I needed him to be awake. Then I watched the thermometer as it began to rise. Sweat broke out on both our skin and I hoped he would wake up soon. Finally, the extreme heat caused him enough discomfort that OJ's eyes opened. He looked disoriented and lost, but upon seeing me standing there his expression turned to fear.

As I began to take control of the power, I walked up to him lying in bed. I had to get a patient history, but also make a deal with the man.

"OJ, I know that you know who I am. Calm down. I have no plan to hurt you."

He heard my words, but they did little to comfort him.

"Now listen carefully. I'm no longer Charlie McGee. I'm Allison Cameron. You are not to mention the name Charlie again. You are not to call me anything but Dr. Cameron and you will not mention the Shop. All right?"

He nodded slightly still shaking with fear. It actually felt good having someone be afraid of me. Normally, I let people walk all over me. I act as if I don't have much of a spine.

"If you should fail and anyone finds out about my identity, I'll be forced to make my destruction of the shop to look like a picnic. I don't want to do that, but I will if you make me." The words were none that had ever left my mouth before. I was not normally this cryptic.

He nodded stronger this time. A moment later, Foreman entered and I began to act like Allison Cameron again.

"Mr. Jamison, could you tell me when the last time you had sex was? Also could any of your partners have had an STD?"

OJ seemed startled by my change in attitude. He stammered that he and his girlfriend had last had sex a week ago. He was also sure that neither of them had an STD. I watched as Foreman walked over and checked the thermostat. He knew that it was too warm in here. Foreman glanced back at me and took in my sweaty appearance.

"Cameron, did you not notice how damn hot it is in here?"

"Oh yeah, I was going to fix that after I got the history. Sorry."

Foreman looks surprised. He probably thought that my first thought would be about the patient's comfort. Actually, I don't care about OJ's comfort at all. I finish my history while Foreman draws blood and turns up the air conditioner. He notices that I don't ask anything about the burns, but instead of reminding me, Foreman jumps in and asks OJ about them himself.

"Mr. Jamison, when did you get those burns on your legs?"

A look of pure terror crosses OJ's face. Without Foreman being any the wiser, I manage to shoot OJ a look. It's a look that says "Be Quiet!" His answer comes out as a quiet mutter.

"About twenty years ago. I got them graphed."

Foreman nodded noticing the discomfort on OJ's face. I stand up to leave as Foreman asks the worst question in the world.

"Mr. Jamison, who's Charlie? You muttered the name Charlie in the clinic. Who is he?"

OJ was quicker this time with his answer, "Charlie's my brother." Maybe Foreman will take his answer at face value.

"Would you like us to contact Charlie for you?"

OJ quickly shakes his head. A bit too quickly in my opinion. Foreman finishes drawing blood for his Epstein Barr virus test and leaves. I turned back to OJ.

"Don't forget to stick with that story. Charlie is your brother."

With that I leave. However, my mind is far from calm. It's wandering around in circles. I'm going to have to light something else on fire later today. For now, though, I can contain it.

The Epstein Barr virus test comes back positive as does the Chase's idea of a whopping kick ass infection of streptococcus. My lupus idea could not have been more wrong. We give OJ the medications that he's going to need and head home for the night. It's been a very long day and I need a strong drink. I wish I still had some of those drugs that I got from a former patient. I think the idea of being completely stoned would be very helpful. Upon arriving home, I down three shots of tequila and collapse into my bed hoping for a dreamless sleep.

I wake up in pain at about two in the morning. I stagger blindly out into my bathroom and turn on the faucet. Once the basin is full of water, I turn the power on it. Before long the water is gone. I repeat the process three more times. It feels so good to get the power out. It feels even better than the sex. Finally, I find and take some aspirin and then make my way back to bed. Hopefully, my sleep will be mercifully without dreams.

The next morning I wake up to harsh sunlight with the hangover from hell. I get up and find another aspirin. As I take a gulp of water, I suddenly feel like my stomach hurts. But it doesn't hurt like a normal hangover stomach ache. This ache hurt like I'm nervous. Why am I nervous? I shouldn't have to see OJ at all today. The last time I felt like this was at the Mander's farm before the Shop had first tried to take me. I felt them coming and I knew they were going to kill my Daddy.

I staggered into the bathroom and took a fast cold shower. It helped clear the fog that was hanging around my head, but only served to make the premonition worse. Something bad was going to happen, but I didn't know what.