House didn't want to take a sick day, but Cuddy wouldn't hear of it. The fact that he was coughing up his lungs was something else. He was laying in his bed, his body covered in sweat. He had taken some over-the -counter stuff along with his vicodin, and he was finally able to sleep. The drugs gave him the craziest dreams, parts of them from his hallucination and part from real life. Inside his fever sleep Cameron, Stacy and Cuddy became the same woman, needing things from him he couldn't or wouldn't give. The need to fix him, make him clean, make him something else. He was jerked from a dream of babies with green eyes when he felt a cool hand on his brow. He opened his eyes to see the face of a very worried looking Allison Cameron. He was too tired and sick to fight her away.
"Cameron, what are doing here." he said, his voice rougher the usual. He had to admit her skin felt good on him, the traces of perfume on her wrist.
"Everyone was worried" she said with a small, barely there smile.
"Everyone?" he ask, feeling as if he has swallowed sand.
"Wilson and Cuddy were worried." Cameron said, brushing his sweaty hair off his forhead.
"What about you?' House said, knowing that asking that was opening a can of worms, but the drugs were making his mind fuzzy.
"Me, nope. I just came to snoop." she said, grinning at him.
House smiled just a little. She was playing along, for once, not picking him apart.
"Do you want something to drink?" she ask, her green/blue eyes pulling him in, making him glad she came.
"A shot" he said, then turning to cough. She rubbed his back, like something a mother would do till it was over.
"I have a better idea. Do you want a cold washcloth?" she ask, the worry line back on her face. A tiny part of him hating himself for making her worry.
He shook his head yes and the room swam. His stomach luched and he barely made it to the bathroom. As his prayed to the porcelain god, Cameron stayed by his side, her hands holding him as his whole body shook. When it was over, she wet a washcloth and cleaned him up. House knew that this was a mistake, but with his body empty and his blood full of drug he didn't have the will or desire to make her go. The truth was it was nice for a change to not be alone, too sick to feed himself, too sick to even clean himself.
Cameron helped him back to the bedroom. She found a clean t-shirt, probably older then her and she help him out of the dirty one, pulling the new one over his head. He jumped when her fingernails racked lightly on his sides.
"Sorry" she said, her eyes filled with emotions she claimed wasn't there anymore.
"It's ok, just ticklish" House said, the need to sleep making him feel heavy like a stone.
Cameron helped him lay down, pulling the covers over him.
"Gets some sleep House." Cameron said, running a soft hand down his cheek.
House closed his eyes, unable to fight everything anymore.
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House awoke to the smell of something sweet and strong. He turned his head to look, but it was too much. He thought Cameron had left, but then he heard her footsteps. He wondered if the fever was getting to his brain, because he was happy she stayed.
"Hey" she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She put her hand to his forehead, the coolness soothing.
"Better, not much, but getting there" she said, but then House starting coughing again. She rubbed his back again. He knew he shouldn't get used to it, but it made him less afraid of the sickness. When it was all over, House lay back against the pillows.
"I have something that might help with that." Cameron said, nodding to the mug sitting on his now clean beside table.
"You cleaned?" House ask, closing his eyes and willing his lungs to work the right way.
"Well, consitering ants were making a colony, I thought it best clean some before the carried you off to there queen." Cameron said, picking up the mug and holding it up for him to drink.
"Hemlock?" he ask, trying to smirk, but just not having the energy.
"Not today. I'll save that for when you come back to work. It's hot tea with a good bit of whiskey and sugar." Cameron said, her eyes seeming so green" hope you can keep it down"
House looked at the mug, the steam rising up to her face, making her seem dream like.
House took a small drink. It was good, burning way down inside of him, seeming to open up his lungs.
"Well?" Cameron said, her hands seeming so small as they held the mug together.
"It's nice." House said, smiling at the words. He was after all of man of many habits.
She helped him hold the mug as he drank the rest. Neither of them spoke, words that could be said hung in the air.
When he was done, she came with a cool cloth, laying it on his forehead.
"House, gets some sleep. The alcohol will burn the sick out of you and you should be youself in the morning." Cameron said, the bittersweetness of the statement not lost on him.
House nodded, her green eyes the last thing he saw before sleep and the liquor dragged him into the void.
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House woke up the next moring. He felt better, a little hungover, which wasn't new. He could breath again, and he was hungry. He took a long steamy shower to clear out the rest of the crap in his lungs. He wondered if Cameron was at work yet, then closed his eyes and shook his head at that thought. As he dressed he wondered if Cameron put something else in that mug. He felt...good..cared for...and maybe even loved. He wondred if Cameron not only helped him feel better, he wondered if she also made him really feel...feel something beside misery. She made him feel hope.