As Allison was walking towards the main entrance of the hospital, she paused for a moment, enjoying the cool morning air on her face. She had always loved mornings. You start your day anew, with fresh intentions and agendas. That was always such a peaceful thought to her, knowing that each day was a new beginning.
Allison picked up her pace, wanting to be the first in the office so that she could go through House's mail without interruption for at least thirty minutes. Also, she had just bought some new peachberry tea that she was sure everyone would enjoy. As she walked through the main lobby, she immediately spotted Barbara, the receptionist.
"Good morning, Barbara. Any messages for Diagnostics?" Allison asked as she walked over to the reception desk.
Barbara looked up from her paperwork and smiled. "No, unless you wanted to hear the newest complaint filed against Dr. House." Barbara paused, putting down her pen, and looking over at Dr. Cuddy's office added, "And even if you don't want to hear about it, I'm pretty sure you will. Dr. Cuddy actually came in early today, and judging from her mood, I'd bet she's pretty pissed off about something."
Allison stole a look over at the Dean of Medicine's office, and agreed with Barbara. Something was definitely going to be said today if the look on Cuddy's face while talking on the phone was any indicator.
"Thanks for the warning, Barbara", Allison said. She turned around and was just about to start for the elevators across the lobby until Barbara's voice stopped her.
"Oh, Dr. Cameron! There's one more thing!"
Allison swiveled on her heel and looked inquiringly at Barbara. "Yes?" she asked politely.
Barbara looked around them, and waved for Allison to come closer. Allison walked over to Barbara with a questioning look.
"Dr. Cuddy has asked that all female personnel be escorted to and from their cars after dark now. I guess last week three women were…assaulted. And they all happened within a three mile radius around the hospital." Barbara looked at Allison and shook her head. "It's just scary. But now the new protocol is for all the women to either be escorted to their cars or travel in a group." She paused, giving Cameron a thoughtful look. "And I believe you need to be extra-cautious, seeing as how you're a young, good looking girl. So you don't need to be shy about asking for an escort. Any self respecting man will be glad to walk you to your car."
Allison nodded her head and smiled reassuringly to Barbara and said, "I'll be sure to do just that, no worries."
Allison turned and headed to the elevators. As she got on and selected the appropriate floor, she felt herself shiver. She usually felt relatively safe, even after dark, but this was the first time she had heard about the attacks. As she got off the elevator and started walking to the department, she told herself to calm down. After all, she thought as she walked into the office, the odds that she would be assaulted were actually miniscule. She always took the necessary precautions: She always had her keys out when walking, with her car key between her thumb and index finger, ready to gouge an eye; she never parked by a van; and she always parked under a street light.
Allison turned on the light as she entered the department, satisfied that she was the first to arrive that day. She placed her briefcase by the desk, and walked toward the kitchenette.
As Allison was readying her tea, she heard the door open.
"You're here early," a voice said behind her.
Allison turned and smiled. "The same could be said of you. Good morning, House. Care for some tea?" She tried not to stare, as his eyes seemed much bluer this morning, thanks to his French blue button down.
House walked closer to her and sniffed at the coffee cup her tea was steeping in. Immediately, his nose wrinkled. "What's up with your girly stuff? I don't want tea that smells like a girl; I want something that's supposed to wake me up." He straightened up and looked down at her. "Coffee would suffice. Strong and full bodied, like how I like my women."
Allison rolled her eyes and turned to the coffee machine. "Of course, right away." She placed her tea on the counter and started filling the coffee pot with water. As she went back to get the coffee grounds, she noticed her tea was gone. She looked up with a confused look on her face, and saw that House was sipping from it.
"Mmmm. Just how I like my women," he said when he had swallowed, "sweet and hot." He smiled at Allison. "Thanks for the tea."
"Well, you could have just asked for it, House. There's no reason why you needed to…to steal my tea!" Allison said with a disgruntled look on her face. She was really looking forward to that tea, dammit! She turned around and finished putting the grounds in the filter and turned the machine on, letting the coffee perk.
She backed up, half way turning around, when she bumped into something, and felt hot liquid splash over the front of her blouse. She gasped from shock and pain as the tea ran down her chest.
"Woops! Next time, you should watch where you're going. Now you're going to have to make me more tea." House looked at her smugly, and then looked to see where the tea had stained her top. It was a very pretty top, he had to admit.
Allison looked at him in shock, her mouth open. She turned around and grabbed paper towels and began dabbing her new shirt. "If this stains, you're buying me a new one," she muttered to House, who was still staring. She looked up when he gave no answer. "And you can stop staring," she cried indignantly, feeling herself blush.
House let his gaze linger for a few more seconds, and then met her frustrated eyes. "Calm down, Dr. Cameron. And I get to pick out the new shirt. Something that Cuddy would wear. Something tight and that shows lots of cleavage." He smiled at her deepening blush, knowing she was feeling more and more self-conscious.
Allison stopped dabbing her shirt and walked over to her lab coat, shrugging it on. She started buttoning the first few buttons, feeling House's eyes on her. He always made her feel so much more…aware. And she knew that he was trying to make her uncomfortable.
"No need for a new shirt." She smiled as she turned around to face him. "I'll have your tea ready in a few moments." She walked back to the counter and started making the tea. She could still feel his presence behind her, looking at her. "I'll bring it into your office when it's ready," she said over her shoulder.
House looked at the back of her neck thoughtfully, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. Wondering what she would do if he happened to step up behind her, kiss the back of her neck, the side of her neck, make his way down to her—
"Good morning," Foreman said as he entered the office.
House snapped out of his reverie, turning to Foreman. He didn't know if he was thankful or pissed that his daydream had just been interrupted.
"Good morning. Where's Chase this lovely morn?"
Foreman paused while placing his briefcase on the floor, glancing at House. "I'm not sure. But he's going to be disappointed when he hears that he missed one of your rare good moods."
House smirked and rolled his eyes. "Oh, but I'm always in a good mood. Just ask Cameron. I just offered to buy her a new shirt."
Allison turned to look at Foreman and shook her head. She handed House a coffee cup and then took hers and sat at the table. "Any new cases?" she asked hopefully. She didn't like sitting around here doing nothing, only able to think about the man who was in the other room playing on his Gameboy or whatever else he liked to do alone.
Foreman shook his head as he headed for a cup of coffee. "None that I know of. Which means either we'll get to play House in the clinic, or go look for a case in the ER."
At that moment, Chase walked into the office. He immediately made a beeline for the coffee machine, without as much as a word to anyone in the room. House leaned on his cane, following Chase with his eyes, and then looked at Foreman and Cameron.
"Does anybody else think it odd that all three of you are here thirty minutes early?" He looked at their puzzled faces, and continued. "I mean, I expect it of Cameron, seeing as how she has no social life. But Foreman, I'm sure you were out late last night, showing young hoodlums how to steal a car. And Chase," he continued, turning to the young Aussie, "I'm sure you are always busy pleasing the ladies, right?" He mockingly winced at the glare he received from Chase. "But I guess not last night, huh?"
Foreman cleared his throat, hoping to draw attention from Chase. "I'm going to the clinic. That is," he added, pausing to look at House with a pointed look, "if you don't have anything pressing to discuss."
House gave Foreman an exasperated look. "Fine, fine. I'll stop meddling in Chase's love life, interesting as it may be." Foreman started to get up, but House stopped him. "I do have one thing to mention." He walked over to his desk and grabbed a sheet of paper that he had apparently left there earlier.
He walked back to the table and gestured for Chase to take a seat. Chase glowered moodily and sat down. House looked back at the paper, and started to read aloud. "To all hospital employees." House paused and cleared his throat. "As all may know, there has been a recent rise in crime in the area. As a precaution, it is now hospital policy that all female personnel be walked to and from their cars before and after all shifts. A group of three or more will not require an escort, but are asked to walk as a group, not leaving anyone alone. If you need an escort, please either ask a fellow male employee or call security and request one. All department heads are to ensure this new policy is heeded to its fullest degree."
House looked up from the paper and zeroed in on Allison. "As the head of Diagnostics, it is my duty to make sure you are appropriately escorted." Allison squirmed uncomfortably, embarrassed by the attention. House continued, "But seeing as how I'm a cripple, I am putting the actual escorting responsibility on Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. Or otherwise known as Foreman and Chase." He grinned at their annoyed expressions. "So until otherwise notified, you are to be escorted by your choice of either Foreman or Chase, and you are to notify me about who is escorting you."
Allison nodded her head, uncomfortable. "Yes, of course."
House eyed her for a moment. "I mean it, Dr. Cameron. It's no joking matter, and I expect you to follow the new protocol." He turned to Foreman and Chase. "And it's your responsibility also now." He stared at all three to make sure they got the point, and then dismissed them. "Now you can go find a case or do whatever you do best." He turned and walked into his office, shutting the door.
All three doctors sat at the table, surprised at their employer's forcefulness in this matter. Usually House was a rule breaker, but apparently not with this one.
Allison froze when both Foreman and Chase stared at her. "What?"
Foreman was the first to speak. "We need your willingness in this, you know. You actually need to tell us when you're leaving and letting us take you. And that may mean that you might have to wait a minute while we're finishing something up before we can walk you to your car."
Chase nodded. "Or else we'll catch hell from House." He paused, and then added as a second thought, "And safety first."
Allison cringed inwardly, feeling uncomfortable with all of this attention. "I get it, you guys. I'll rush to your side when I need to be walked to my car." She got up, but was stopped by Foreman's hand on her wrist. She looked at him questioningly, and he added with feeling, "I mean it. And not just because House said so. But because there's an actual rapist out there."
Allison nodded, and smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Foreman. Don't worry; I'll let you know when I'm heading out."
Foreman nodded his head and got up from his seat. "I'm off to the clinic. Chase, want to join me?"
Chase got up, and started following Foreman. He turned to Allison. "Clinic is better than mail duty," and he was gone with a smile.
Allison smiled back, but the smile slowly faded as he walked out the door. She turned to the pile of mail and started going through it, sorting it out by urgency and subject. For the second time that day, she had a weird feeling about this new protocol. She didn't want to live her life, jumping at shadows. But she also didn't want to throw caution in the wind.
As she was writing to decline an invitation that had been sent to House an hour later, she finally realized why she was bothered by this new development. She hated that she wasn't in control. She hated that she had to rely solely on male support because she was a female, and therefore apparently weak. She hated that in order to be safe, she had to act the part of a damsel in distress while a man came and rescued her.
As Allison got more and more worked up, the more forceful she was with the letter opener. 'Sure,' she thought angrily as she opened another invitation, 'I am a qualified, highly educated doctor who has saved lives, but I can't even walk to my own car! I have to ask a man to walk me to my car, or else I'm breaking protocol! It's not like I can't protect myself!' She threw the invite into the decline pile with more force than necessary. 'I have a can of Mace, for heaven's sake! I'm not totally helpless!'
She picked up another letter, and stabbed it with the letter opener, and just as she was ripping the envelope open, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Allison jumped, causing her to slice her finger with the serrated edge of the letter opener. "Ow!"
House pulled back his hand, and stared at the growing line of blood on her finger. He grabbed a tissue and handed it to Allison. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Allison took the tissue and applied it to her hand. "It's fine," she muttered. She got up from her seat and walked to the sink, where they kept a first aid kit. "Did you need anything?" she asked over her shoulder.
House watched her progress to the sink and leaned on his cane. Even when flustered and apparently upset about something, Cameron was always as polite as can be. "I was asking you if you knew where my Gameboy was, but you weren't listening to me."
Allison paused in her application of the band aid and glanced up at House. "Oh, sorry, my mind was somewhere else." She placed the band aid on her finger and pressed on it, making sure it was sealed. She only noticed belatedly that the band aids were Disney Princesses, and she had just chosen a Jasmine one. She smiled faintly as she threw away the wrapper, and went back to the desk.
"I haven't seen it, sorry. But I'll let you know as soon as possible if I happen to stumble upon it," she said, as though they were discussing something that was actually important.
House detected the undercurrent of sarcasm, but decided to let it go. After all, he had just caused her to cut herself. "Thanks so much," he said brightly with sincere sarcasm.
Allison nodded, going back to the mail. She assumed that House had gone back to his office, but became aware that he hadn't when he walked back into her field of vision and sat down across from her. She paused, giving him an inquisitive glance.
He stared at her thoughtfully for a few seconds and took a deep breath. "I know why you're so worked up."
Allison sat up in her chair, putting down some envelopes. "Really?" she asked slowly.
House nodded. "You hate that you have to rely on somebody else so that you're safe." He smiled in triumph when she gave him a shocked look that told him she was surprised by what he said. Surprised, and shocked that he knew what had made her upset. "You agree readily that you are the bleeding heart of Plainsboro, but you never let anyone get that confused with weakness. In fact, you always try to make it a point that you can take care of yourself. And now you absolutely despise it that you need, no, are required, to rely on somebody else." House sat back in his chair, pleased with himself. He twirled his cane while waiting for her response.
Allison stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. He knew her better than she knew herself! She let her breath out, not realizing that she had been holding it. She slowly nodded her head. "You're right," she admitted simply. She thought of her next words wisely. "I've always taken care of myself. I haven't needed anybody else to take care of me, or have had any reason for anybody to take care of me. In fact," she added as she took a deep breath and looked down at the table, "I've always been the one taking care, not the one being taken cared of." She slowly looked back up at House.
House stared at her hard, not saying a word. 'So strong,' he thought, 'but so fragile.' He sighed, feeling suddenly worn out. How he wished that he could be one of those who were cared for by Allison Cameron. How wonderful that would feel.
But he didn't say that. Instead, he said, "You know it's not that you're weak. It's actually for our own peace of mind, knowing that you're making it to your car safely. And," he paused, looking slightly thoughtful, "I hope you also realize that I hardly ever enforce any of those worthless protocols that Cuddy is always inventing. But this one I actually feel is important. Because it involves you directly. And your safety. And I am not going to deal with that lightly."
Allison nodded, touched. "I understand," she said simply.
House eyed her for another few moments, and then got up. "Let me know if you see my Gameboy." And he was gone, back into his office.
Allison reflected over House's words, moved by them. She smiled to herself, warmed by his concern. As she continued looking sorting through the mail, it occurred to her. House cared. About her.
********************************************************************
Fourteen hours later, Allison was calling security. She needed an escort.
Not long after House had left her sorting the mail, Foreman and Chase had come back from the ER with a case involving a 32-year-old man who had pleural effusions, tachycardia, and hemoptysis. The interesting thing was that the man was coughing up blood, but they couldn't find any reason why. They had performed a bronchoscopy, and had found no visible cause for his hemoptysis. Chase, Foreman and Cameron drew straws so see which one had to stay overnight, and poor Foreman had picked the short straw.
But while Allison was in the locker room, Chase had left without so much as waiting to ask if he could escort her to her car. Allison could tell that Foreman was genuinely upset about it, but she had acted like it was no big deal. After all, she could always call security.
And that was what she was doing now. Calling security. For the sixth time. Each time, they said they would have someone meet her at the entrance, but in the last thirty minutes, no one had shown up.
As Allison listened to the incessant ringing on the other end, she became exasperated. She hung up the phone, shaking her head. If security couldn't send anybody to escort her, then that was fine. She could at least walk by herself just this once. After all, she reasoned as she picked up her briefcase, she had had a rough day. She didn't feel like waiting another thirty minutes for security to come, while she could have already been driving home in that time.
Allison went through the front doors, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the night. She paused, suddenly deciding to get out her can of Mace. Just in case, she told herself. She dug through her purse, and finally found it. She shook her head, annoyed that she was letting herself get so worked up about all of this.
Allison started walking purposefully to the parking lot, making sure she was underneath the safety of the lights at all times. As she looked up, she noticed surveillance cameras along the building. 'At least they would catch it on camera if something were to happen,' she thought.
She veered onto a smaller sidewalk, heading to her car. She picked up her pace, hearing her heels clicking against the cement. Suddenly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck go straight up. She started walking even faster, not looking behind her, half afraid of what she would see. She spotted her car about twenty feet away and felt herself become relieved. She had her keys in her hand, and pressed the unlock button on her keyless pad. As she walked up to her car, she opened the back passenger door and placed her briefcase on the seat. As she closed the door, that's when the man suddenly knocked himself into her, slamming her into the car.
Allison immediately fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of her. She grasped blindly for her Mace, her mind blank. She turned her head, looking for the Mace, but couldn't find it. She saw black boots by her feet, and her eyes traveled up, revealing a solid looking man dressed in all black with a ski mask on.
Still not able to breath, she did the only thing she could think of. She started crawling under her car, hoping he couldn't catch her. She heard a weird mewling sound, and then realized that it was coming from her lips. She scraped her fingernails against the pavement, trying to get leverage to pull herself underneath the car. She could feel bits of gravel digging underneath her nails, but she ignored the pain. Ignored the pain when she felt her right index nail splitting to the quick. Ignored the pain every time she breathed in and out, knowing she probably broke a couple of ribs.
She was almost under the car when she felt his hands on her feet. She kicked wildly, trying to make him unhand her. Then she heard him laughing, and she knew she was going to lose. He was laughing at her feeble attempts of freedom. She was disoriented and weak, unable to fight him off. She realized this in her rational mind, but she still fought.
He jerked her out from underneath the car, breaking all of her nails while she was gripping onto the pavement. She hoarsely moaned, still not able to take a deep enough breath to actually scream. He sat on the middle of her back, setting off agony in her chest. She couldn't breath! He laughed to himself, and lessened the weight, allowing her to take a miniscule breath.
Allison grabbed onto the car, looking for any way of escape, any kind of leverage. She left four trails of blood when her hand slipped off the car.
The man laughed again, apparently enjoying how much she was fighting. He grabbed her wrists and tied them above her head. He then took a gag and placed it in her mouth, tying a cloth around her mouth to keep it in place. He flipped her onto her back. She was now face to face with him.
Allison tried to buck him off her, kicking her legs wildly. She became a wild woman, doing all she could think of to get him off of her.
The man seemed amused by her efforts. As if by an after thought, he grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the pavement.
Allison saw stars. She saw pain. But even through this, she tried to get him off her. But her efforts were weak.
The man took off her shoes, throwing them away from her. He then tied her ankles together. He sat up, looking at the woman he was going to take. He smiled to himself. He was pleased with what he had found this time.
He hurriedly took out his knife, smiling at her fear when she saw the gleam of the blade. He started slicing off her clothes, starting with her top and then began on her pants. When he was through, he bent over her and picked her up, placing her into the backseat of the car next to hers. He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the car. He looked back into the backseat at the woman, and smiled. This was going to be fun.
********************************************************************
Foreman was exhausted. He shook his head, trying to clear it while he was finishing some dictation he was trying to catch up on.
So far, the patient was stable. But he had new symptoms: Emesis and atrial fibrillation.
Foreman looked up when a security guard walked into the room. "May I help you?"
The young man looked at him, clearly nervous. "Yes, I was supposed to escort a Dr. Cameron to her car. Is she still here?"
Foreman looked at him. "No," he said slowly. "She left about an hour ago." He picked up the phone, and dialed Cameron's number. It went to voicemail. "Cameron, it's Foreman. Let me know when you get home, okay?"
Foreman put the phone down and looked at the guard. "What time did she call you to escort her?"
The man nervously wrung his hands. "About an hour ago. There was a mix up. Me and another guy thought the other one was going to go walk her to her car. We didn't figure out the mistake until just now."
Foreman stared hard at him. "I know where she parks. Let's go and make sure her car is gone, okay? If it is, then I'll keep calling her until she answers. If not, we're calling the police."
Foreman strode out of the room, and the guard followed him. When they reached the parking lot, Foreman saw Cameron's car. He started running towards it, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Once he got close enough, he saw her purse, keys, shoes and clothing on the ground.
"Call 911!" he called to the guard. The young man fumbled with his phone, immediately dialing numbers on his keypad. Foreman faintly heard him talking into it, and that was when he saw the blood on the driver's door. Four bloody streaks. Foreman whipped his head around, desperate to see something or someone.
"They're on their way," the guard said quietly while he looked at the items on the ground. Foreman flexed his jaw. 'They weren't going to be fast enough,' he thought.
He flipped open his phone and dialed the number of the person who needed to know. The phone rang, and then somebody picked up. "This had better be good," the voice grumpily muttered into the phone.
"She's gone," Foreman said into the phone. "Cameron is gone. Something has happened to her, House."
*********************************************************************
Allison shivered in the dark.
She was alone. He had finally left her alone. She felt the restraints biting into her skin every time she moved. Her whole body hurt. She felt tears gathering in her eyes, but tried to stop them. She was still gagged, and she couldn't breathe well if her nose was stuffed up from crying. She took deep breaths, ignoring the sharp pain in her sides from the broken ribs.
She had to stay focused. She had to get out of here in case he came back to kill her. Her wrists were tied together. He had nailed small metal tent posts into the ground, and then tied her wrists to one using fishing line, and then each of her ankles to one.
She wiggled her wrists, trying to loosen the post. She ignored the pain, wiggling more and more until she could feel the slick feeling of blood around her wrists. She kept wiggling, and finally she felt the post give a little. She doubled her efforts, moaning at the pain. She was out of breath, and sweating even though the temperature was only about 40 degrees. She took a moment to collect herself, and resumed her efforts. Finally, she felt it give even more. She gave one final shove, and cried out at the pain. But her actions were rewarded; she had finally loosened the pole.
She slowly brought her arms up over her head, and sat up. She immediately felt nauseous, and started scraping at the gag around her mouth. She felt the bile travel up her throat, and had just pulled the gag from her mouth when she started vomiting. She rolled to her hip and heaved for a few moments more, until there was nothing else in her stomach, and continued to heave even after that. The pain was blinding in her ribs, and she tried to squeeze her sides with arms to apply pressure to lessen the pain.
Allison shakily took a breath. She forced herself to get under control; she had to get out of there. She immediately bent forward to work her ankles out of the restraints. While she did this, she numbly realized that her wrists were deeply cut around where the fishing line had dug into her skin. She looked at her ankles, and realized they were also bloody. She tried scraping the fishing line off, but the slippery blood made the lines evasive.
She finally tore the tent poles out of the ground. She could worry about untying them later. Now, she had to move. She had to find safety.
She stood up slowly, not able to move fast. She almost fell over, she was so dizzy. 'Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it,' she told herself over and over. She looked around herself, knowing she was in an abandoned warehouse somewhere. She looked for an exit, and saw a sliver of light coming from a door.
She walked over slowly, trying her best to hide her nakedness with her hands. She reached the door, and tried to push it open. It slowly gave way, revealing early morning light. She stumbled out, falling to the ground. She scrambled back up, now running wildly, anywhere, for safety. She ignored her pain as she ran down the deserted street that was obviously used only for the surrounding warehouses. She looked wildly around, not seeing any movement. No sign of life.
Allison didn't know how long she ran. But she finally saw headlights coming from a different road. She slowed for a moment, and then started yelling. "Help! Help me!" Tears ran down her face as she waved her arms in the air.
The car neared her, and an elderly lady looked dumbstruck as she saw the naked young woman in the middle of the road. She stopped her car, and Allison ran toward it, trying to open the passenger door. She scrambled inside and turned to the woman.
"I need to go to the hospital," she said hoarsely. The woman looked at her, nodded dumbly, immediately turning around and sped as fast as she could to the nearest hospital. PPTH.
*****************************************************************
House paced around Cuddy's office while the police were interviewing the security guards, Foreman and Chase. He had already punched Chase as soon as he had walked into the door. Foreman had told him how he had abandoned Allison. And now Allison was gone.
"I'm telling you, we just got confused. I thought Bob was going to meet her at the door, and Bob thought that I was going to meet her. It was a simple mistake." The security guard was trying to explain to the police, and to Cuddy, why he hadn't escorted Cameron to her car.
Suddenly, the door burst open and Wilson ran in. "They found her. She's in the ER."
Everyone froze, and then all at once everyone went into action. House was the first to the door, making his way as fast as he could to the ER. Amazingly, he beat all the others.
He rounded into the unit, and immediately saw nurses and doctors around a bed. He advanced toward it, knowing it was Allison.
"You need to calm down, ma'am. Just take a deep breath," a doctor was telling her.
House rushed over, pushing somebody out of his way. He saw Allison then for the first time. Her face was bloody and bruised. She had been hit multiple times. She had raw, bloody spots in the corners of her mouth where the gag had been. Her body was covered with a sheet, but he could see where the bastard had tied her wrists. He could see how bloody they were. He numbly noted that her fingernail beds were bloodied, scraped raw with blood blisters forming.
He looked up at Allison's face, and their eyes met. She looked away from him, and covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. She was sobbing, a deep, soul wrenching sob. It broke House's heart.
"I need 2 mg of Ativan, stat," the doctor ordered a nurse.
House worked his way up to her side. "Allison?" he asked softly. He laid his hand on her arm, and she jumped away. He quickly removed it, shaking his head. How stupid of him.
"Allison, don't worry. I'm here." He lowered his voice to a whisper, hoping only Allison could hear his voice. "Please, look at me."
Allison didn't move for a moment, and then slowly let her hands fall from her face. She tried to quiet her sobs, but she couldn't control them. She turned her head slowly, looking at House. He met her gaze solidly. She swallowed, trying to make herself calm down. "Do you want me to help you? Do you want me to be here?" he asked.
Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked. She slowly nodded her head. The nurse was then at her side, injecting her with the Ativan. "Don't leave me," she said thickly.
He slowly shook her head. "I won't leave you."
He stepped back as the nurses started taking her vitals. "Dr. Cameron, we have to do a rape kit as soon as possible. Do you understand?" asked the ER physician.
Allison slowly nodded her head, slightly unfocused due to the Ativan. The doctor looked at House from the corner of his eye, and then added, "Do you want Dr. House to stay with you?"
House froze. Apparently the doctor had heard their exchange. He looked at Allison, awaiting her response. Allison slowly turned her head to see House, and nodded. "Yes," she said simply.
House let out a breath that he hadn't know he was holding. As the nurses pulled curtains around Allison's bed, he slowly took a chair and pushed it over to the head of the bed. He sat down, trying to find a comfortable position so that his leg wouldn't get stiff. He leaned his cane against the wall, and let out a deep sigh. He looked intently at Allison's face. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was rapid; apparently the Ativan hadn't made her go to sleep. He could tell by the grimace on her face that she was in pain. 'Of course she's in pain, you moron,' he thought to himself. She had just been beaten and raped.
He took a deep breath, and it finally hit him. Allison had been raped. She had been hurt. He swallowed, feeling his eyes well up with tears. He tightly closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers, forcing the tears back, not wanting to show weakness when all Allison needed was strength.
The doctor walked into the curtained room, and slowly walked to Allison's bedside, clipboard in hand. "Dr. Cameron, I need to ask you some questions before I do the examination. Is that okay with you?"
Allison opened her eyes and nodded, knowing what was going to be asked. She thought that she should ask that House leave. She was ashamed by what had happened. She didn't want him to see her so weak. But she also didn't want to be alone. "I know," she whispered.
The doctor gave her an encouraging smile. "First off, when was your last consensual sexual encounter?"
Allison took a breath, knowing the questions were going to get even harder than this. She didn't look the doctor in the face when she answered. "Six months ago, I think," she said so low that the doctor could barely hear her.
The doctor nodded, writing this information down. "Okay. When was your last menstrual cycle?" he asked, glancing at her from his papers.
Allison raised her hand and rubbed her temple, wincing when she accidentally touched a bruise. "A week ago."
The doctor nodded again, writing some more. "Okay, now these next questions may be a bit uncomfortable, okay? Just take your time answering them. There's no rush."
Allison nodded, knowing what was coming next. She saw a movement in the corner of her eye and glanced over at House. He stood up, looking down at her. "Allison, I can go if you feel uncomfortable." House searched her eyes, waiting for a reply.
Allison swallowed, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, flowing down her face. "I don't want to be alone," she whispered, looking at him through tear-filled eyes, feeling incredibly vulnerable.
House nodded. "I'm here then, Allison. I'm not leaving you."
Allison raised her hands, wiping the tears off her face. "I'm ready," she told the doctor.
The man waited until she was as composed as she could get, and then started asking the required questions. "Was there full vaginal penetration?"
Allison closed her eyes, not wanting to look at anyone. She nodded silently.
"Was there anal or oral penetration?"
House gripped the bed rails with his hands, trying to control himself. He looked at Allison, wishing he could help her through this, but knew that the best way to help was to be silent.
Allison opened her mouth, and then closed it. She took a deep breath. "Oral," she whispered slowly. She felt a sob well up in her throat, and tried to fight it, but couldn't. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm okay," she said as she cried softly.
The doctor handed her a tissue, and she took it and wiped her eyes. "Are you ready for some more questions?" the doctor asked kindly.
Allison nodded, wanting to get this over and done with.
"Was there just one man?" the doctor asked. Allison nodded her head. "How many times was there vaginal penetration?"
Allison looked straight ahead, not focusing on anything. "Two or three times. I'm not sure. I…I think I blacked out during some of it."
"And how many times was there oral penetration?"
"Once," she said softly. She glanced up at the doctor. "I threw up," she stated simply. "After I got myself untied, I threw up. So I don't think an oral swab would be necessary."
The doctor made a notation on his pad and nodded. "We'll still do one, just in case." He went to the curtain and called for a nurse, and then turned back. "I'm going to do the examination now, okay? I'll try to make it as comfortable as possible."
Allison nodded as a nurse came in pushing a cart with all the necessary items on it. She looked up at House, who was still standing by her side. "You can leave, if you want. But I…I would like you to stay with me. But I understand if you feel uncomfortable," she added in a hurry.
House looked down at her. Of course, only Allison would be worried about his comfort while she was going through something as awful as this. "I want to stay with you," he said simply. He placed his hand lightly on hers, letting her become comfortable with his touch. "Is this okay?"
Allison opened her hand and gripped his, nodding, thankful for his understanding.
The nurse walked up and started to pull the sheets up over Allison's feet. "This will only take a minute. I just need to get your prepared so that the doctor can exam you." Allison nodded. The nurse placed Allison's feet in the stirrups attached to the table, and brought the sheet down over feet again, restoring her modesty.
Allison squeezed House's hand and took a deep breath. She tried to calm herself again as the doctor seated himself at her feet and raised the sheet. "I'm going to take some samples, and then I'll perform the pelvic exam, okay?"
Allison nodded her head. She flinched slightly as she felt the doctor's hands on the insides of her thighs. "Just relax, Dr. Cameron. I know this is uncomfortable, but it'll only last a few minutes."
Allison nodded again, gripping House's hand. House squeezed her hand, letting her know he was there for her. She closed her eyes, and focused on the grip she had on House's hand.
After a few moments, the doctor spoke up again. "I'm going to perform the pelvic exam now, okay? Just try to relax and I'll go as fast as I can."
Allison squeezed her eyes shut, and flinched in pain as she felt the speculum against her body. "I know you're sore. I'll try to be as gentle as I can," the doctor said as he heard her whimper in pain.
House looked at the doctor, willing him to hurry up. He looked down at Allison's face, his heart breaking at the tears sliding down her cheeks.
A few moments later, the doctor got up. "Okay, we need to take some pictures of all the marks and bruises. The nurse will help position you, okay?"
House squeezed her hand, making her look up at him. "I'm going to stand out by the curtain. I'll be right outside if you need me." Allison nodded. She was thankful that she didn't have to ask him to leave for this final exam.
"I'll be right outside," he repeated, and squeezed her hand one last time. He grabbed his cane, and limped slowly to the curtains, making his way to a chair a few feet away so that he could sit and relieve the pain in his leg.
He sat down slowly, rubbing his thigh. He didn't know what he could do to help her. She needed somebody who was gentle; somebody she could feel comfortable around. He wasn't sure if he was the best person for that or not. But he wanted to be that person. He sighed heavily, feeling weary from the long night.
He glanced over at the curtains, and could see Allison's feet and ankles as the nurse helped her out of the bed. He saw the bloody lines across her ankles, and suddenly felt an overwhelming, all consuming anger well up in his chest. He would kill the bastard if they found him. He felt his jaw tightening in rage. He would kill him for hurting the only person in the world whom he had ever cherished.
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As the nurse helped Allison back into the bed, she lowered her body slowly, gingerly. They had taken several pictures of all her bruises, scratches and marks. They had tried to conserve her modesty by covering up her nakedness in most. But others, like the bruises from the brutal fingers on her breasts, they couldn't cover up.
"Can I take a shower now?" she asked the nurse, who was sorting through the Polaroid pictures.
The nurse glanced up. "I'll just go ask the doctor real fast. He may want to dress your wrists and ankles first." The nurse turned and headed out of the room in search of the doctor.
Allison sighed, dragging the blanket up her body and rolled to her left side, trying to alleviate the rib pain on her right side. They had taken x-rays, and sure enough, she had three broken ribs on her right side.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut everything out. What was she going to do? How different was she going to be as a person? Was she going to jump at every shadow? Or would she come through this, unscathed? She knew it was wishful thinking on her part to believe that. There was no way she was going to be the exact same as she had been prior to the attack. But she believed she could get through this. She had to. She felt herself slip into sleep as she was thinking to herself, and didn't fight it. She closed her eyes, and welcomed the peace.
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House looked up when he heard his name called, and saw Foreman and Cuddy walking toward him.
"How is she?" Cuddy asked, with a frown on her face.
House paused, not answering for a moment. "Not well." He rubbed his thigh. "I guess as good as could be expected in this situation."
Cuddy nodded and sat beside him. "Has she talked about what happened?"
"They performed the rape kit and she answered the questions, but no. She hasn't talked to me personally about it."
Foreman had been quiet during this exchange. "How does she look?"
"How do you think she looks?" he asked angrily. He shook his head. He didn't need to take his anger out on Foreman. He sighed. "Not well. He beat her. He tied her down. She has marks all over body."
Foreman nodded slowly, taking in this information. "Well, let me know if I can do anything for you. I need to get back upstairs to the patient." He turned and walked out of the department, leaving Cuddy and House.
Cuddy stole a glance at House, noting how tired he looked. "Do you think you should go rest? I doubt you've had any sleep in the past 24 hours."
"Neither has she," House stated simply. He softened his voice, hating the harshness of it. "I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'm just going to stay with her."
Cuddy nodded, knowing that she couldn't talk him out of it. "I'll be in my office if you need anything." As she stood up, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "You need to be strong for her, House. And that means you need to take care of yourself too." She let that sink in for a moment, and then turned and went out of the department, leaving House alone.
House leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Cuddy was right. Allison needed him to be strong.
"Dr. House?" He opened his eyes, looking at the nurse who had called his name. "Dr. Cameron is asleep right now. When she wakes, we'll take her to have a shower and then move her to a private room."
House nodded his thanks for the information and stood up. He made his way to Allison's room, and peeked in through the curtain. She was on her side, sleeping. He walked in slowly, and stood by her bed. He took one of her hands in his, and stroked the back of it with his thumb. He had always noticed she was fine boned, but had never realized just how fragile she was until now. Her skin was translucent, her bones small. He noticed a cut on her finger, and realized that it was where she had cut herself with the letter opener. He thought back to that morning, remembering their banter about the tea, about buying her a new shirt. That morning had been like any other morning, and yet look where it had ended.
House gazed at her face, taking in all the bruises and cuts, yet still she was beautiful. House had always thought her beautiful; striking, in fact. Her creamy skin was marred by the marks of physical violence, and they somehow made her seem more delicate, more fragile.
"Dr. House?" a voice whispered. House looked over and saw the doctor standing by the curtains. He waved House to him, and House gently placed Allison's hand on the bed. He limped over to the doctor.
"I was just going through Dr. Cameron's file, and apparently she had you as her ICE contact. I wanted to talk to you about her condition." House nodded for him to continue, surprised that Allison had designated him as her ICE contact. "We gave her all the STD meds and have taken tests to see if she's positive for any. I'm going to keep her overnight for observation, and then release her tomorrow if there are no complications." He cleared his throat, pausing. "Also, the police are here and want to question her. I told them that she needed to rest and that I would notify them when she woke up and was settled."
House nodded his thanks. "I appreciate it." He held out his hand and shook the doctor's hand. The doctor turned and went across the department to a different bedside to treat another patient.
House slowly walked back to Allison's room, and slipped between the curtains. He noticed immediately that Allison was awake. "Hey," she said softly. House walked up to the bed and slowly took her hand, trying not to startle her. "How do you feel?" he asked, and immediately felt like an idiot.
"I've been better," she said, squeezing his hand, knowing he was berating himself for asking that question. "Did the doctor say when I could be released?"
"He's going to keep you for observation tonight, and then discharge you tomorrow." House paused, thinking. "I don't want you to be alone. Do you have anybody who can stay with you for a while?"
Allison looked down at their joined hands and slowly shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I don't want to be alone either," she admitted.
House took in this information, and made a decision. "I will stay at your place." He made this statement, leaving no room for argument.
Allison looked up into his face. "Thank you," she said simply, her voice deep with emotion.
"I see that you're up now, Dr. Cameron. Would you like to take a shower now?" the nurse asked.
Allison jumped, startled by the nurse's sudden appearance. "Yes, thank you." She tried sitting up, and House helped her by placing his arm around her back to give her support. The sheet fell down by her waist, revealing that her gown had slipped open, and for a second House saw a naked breast. His breath hissed through his mouth as he gasped at the sight he saw. Her right breast had angry bruises over it. Allison looked down to see what he was staring at, and stilled when she saw her nakedness. House slowly closed her gown to cover her nakedness and looked at Allison's face.
She was pale, looking down at the floor. He could see the ashamed look on her face. House placed his hand under her chin and raised her face to his eyes. "Allison," he began, "you have nothing to be ashamed of," he whispered. Allison met his eyes, and felt tears beginning to form in her eyes. She tried to look away, but House wouldn't let her. "I mean it. What happened to you was not your fault. Was not your fault at all. You need to understand that. You have nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of."
Allison felt silent tears tracking down her face. She nodded her head, not knowing what else to do. But he didn't understand. She knew that it wasn't her fault. Of course it wasn't. But she was ashamed because she was grateful that her rapist had let her live. She felt the need to actually thank the bastard for not killing her. That was something she could never let anybody know. It was her shameful secret.
House looked at her for another moment, knowing that he couldn't help her right now. First she needed to heal physically. And then he could help her.
The nurse brought over a wheelchair and helped Allison off the bed and placed her into the wheelchair, while House stood back, not getting in the way. The nurse wheeled her out, and House was alone. He walked out of the room, and stood for a moment. He made his way to the elevators, deciding he needed to go to his office for at least a while today. As the doors opened and he got on the elevator, he couldn't help but hope that he was strong enough to help Allison through this.
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Allison closed her eyes as the nurse wheeled her to the private locker room reserved for doctor use.
"I'll be out here while you're taking a shower. Just let me know if you need any help, all right?" the nurse asked kindly.
Allison smiled her thanks, and slowly shuffled into the shower room, locking the door behind her. She took a deep breath and went to the nearest stall and turned the water on full blast. She turned the hot water up as far as it would go, and slowly shrugged out of her hospital gown. She looked down at her body, at the bruises and scrapes all over. She turned to the water, and walked under the stream, gasping at the temperature. She took the soap in her hand and started scrubbing ferociously at her body, ignoring the pain as she scrubbed her wrists. She numbly realized that they hadn't bandaged her wrists or ankles, and her wounds stung at the hot water and harsh scrubbing.
After scrubbing her entire body, Allison let the soap drop from her hand. She closed her eyes and placed her face into the stream of water. She turned around, letting the water hit her hair, feeling it go down her back. She took a deep breath, knowing the floodgates were going to open at any moment. She felt sobs wracking her body, letting them out, not trying to control the noise as she cried. She slipped to the floor, still feeling the water at her back, and bent her knees to her chest. She placed her head onto her knees, rocking back and forth.
After what could have been only five minutes, or possibly as much as an hour, Allison pushed herself to her feet. She numbly turned off the water and shuffled over to her towel, drying herself off, and put on a clean gown. She slowly walked to the door, still extremely sore, unlocked it, and stepped out. The nurse stood up, and smiled kindly, helping her into the wheelchair.
"I'm going to take you to your room now, all right. There you can have a proper rest and perhaps something to eat."
"Thank you," Allison said quietly. She closed her eyes, feeling the motion of the wheelchair as she was taken to her room.
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House was sitting at his desk, his legs propped up on the corner of it. He was deep in thought, squeezing the tennis ball in his hand, feeling the plastic give slightly every time he compressed his fingers.
How did he need to treat Allison? He knew she didn't want him to treat her like she was damaged. He squeezed the ball, releasing it slowly. Of course, she had already been damaged before this. But this, well….this was different obviously. He definitely couldn't act like nothing had happened.
He glanced into the other room, seeing Chase and Foreman discussing something at the table. Chase had already apologized repeatedly about leaving Allison high and dry after work. And House knew that he was probably sorry for it. But still, he knew he would always feel resentment and anger toward Chase after this. He squeezed the ball again, hearing the plastic protest at the pressure.
He would deal with Chase later. Right now, he needed to establish a plan of action regarding Allison. He had already said he would stay at her apartment, but now he doubted his decision. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea. After all, he was probably the least person qualified to deal with a traumatized individual. He had always been better with keeping his distance, coldly observing behaviors and figuring a person out by his observations. He didn't deal with emotions, either experiencing them or talking about them. He squeezed the ball, feeling the pain in his fingers. He had a whole day before worrying about staying at her apartment with her. If he didn't think he should follow through with it, he could always arrange for a nurse to stay with her.
He placed his feet on the floor, stood up, and walked over to the other room. "Any change in our patient?" he asked to no one in particular as he walked over to the coffee machine.
Chase shook his head, not looking up. "No," he replied. "But he's not getting any worse, so that's good news."
House grunted. "If he's not getting any better, then he's getting worse. Any new symptoms?"
Chase rolled his eyes. "No. His effusions aren't clearing up, but he's febrile now."
House turned around, a decidedly confused look on his face. "Oh, he has a fever? I just thought somebody told me there were no new symptoms." He mulled over this new information as if truly puzzled.
Chase shook his head, running his hand through his hair. "A fever is not something to get worked up about. It goes hand in hand with the effusions."
House smiled at him the same way he would smile at a simple, slow thinking child. "Of course, of course. Or perhaps he has a new infection that is just now causing his fever. He didn't show up with a fever, Dr. Chase, but he did show up with the effusions. Run a CBC and perform a chest CT. Let me know if his white count is raised. If it is, it's an infection and start him on Cipro. If not, well, it's not an infection. We'll work from there."
Foreman nodded, rising from his seat and walked out of the room with the file in his hand. Chase slowly rose from his chair, his eyes on House. "You know, I have apologized several times. I was tired. I wanted to go home. I figured that she could call security to take her to her car." He stopped for a moment, mulling over his next words. "You can't blame me for what happened. There were several other contingencies that occurred. You can't punish me for what happened just because you think it was my fault."
House stared hard at him, not saying anything for a moment. "I haven't been punishing you. If you think my mocking you a few moments ago was my way to get back at you because of Dr. Cameron's attack, then you're much more simple minded than I had thought." He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes not leaving Chase. "By your jumping to your own defense after a slight that I admittedly relish doing at least three times a day tells me two things. First, you feel guilty. You're adamant that it wasn't your fault, yet you obviously can't stop thinking about it."
Chase waited for a moment, then asked, "And the second thing?"
House turned his back on Chase, walking to his office. "You're an asshole," he replied, without missing a beat.
Chase's mouth tightened as he watched House's progress. He turned slowly and walked out of the department, a scowl on his face. Much as he hated to admit it, House was right on both accounts. He did feel slightly guilty. And he was, indeed, an asshole.