The Ties That Bind

Where am I?

I open my eyes for a millisecond.
The blinding intensity of a halogen death ray assaults my retinas.
It illuminates each pore of my shivering body.

Whispers. Beeps. Footsteps approach.
Sounds. So many sounds. And none of them good.

I inhale deeply.
Disinfectant. Iodine. Strawberries. Strawberries?

Cameron.

I force myself to look at her.
I squint as I adjust to the glaring light in the otherwise darkened room.

I focus on her form as she leans towards me.
A ghostly halo frames her beautiful face.

Is she an angel?
Am I dead?

"House …" she whispers.
"Cameron, what …" I begin.
"Shhhh … I'll take care of you. Trust me."

She circles the slab of stainless steel where I lie.
There's no mattress.
I'm cold.
And naked.

I'm an offering; a sacrificial lamb awaiting its slaughter.
Let me touch you …
But I can't.
My wrists and ankles are bound and tethered to the table.

She examines me.
Slowly. Meticulously.
Her ungloved hand toys with my nipples as it trails across my chest.
The coarse ridge of hair that bisects my abdomen leads her quickly to my manhood.

She cradles me gently.
My body springs to life in response to her delicate touch.
I have lost all control.
I surrender to her will.

Her lab coat is discarded as a cobra sheds its skin.
It is an unnecessary shield for her magnificent body.
She is naked.
And ready.

She climbs onto the table and straddles my hips.
I break out in a sweat. My pulse is racing.
She lowers herself slowly over my engorged member.
With agonizing perfection she envelops my girth.

Cameron is omnipotent.
I writhe beneath her, drilling deep into her core.
Her cries are a mixture of pain and pleasure.
A red stiletto threatens to pierce my thigh as she rides my cock with satanic fury.

We come hard and fast.
She collapses on my chest.
Her bare glistening breasts press into my flesh with each gasp of breath she takes.
I'm deliriously aroused.

Suddenly, I'm cold again.
I'm forced to withdraw from the warmth of her sheath.
My flaccid length rests on my thigh, coated with the remnants of our passion.
I'm bereft. And lonely.

I watch as she buttons her virginal lab coat.
Who would have thought?
"My dear, sweet Cameron.
A dominatrix … I'm impressed."

Cameron stares at the floor. She seems saddened by my praise.
"I tried to impress you for three years, House.
And now I succeed - with kinky sex."
She shakes her head in dismay. "Have you always been this shallow?"

"Hell, yeah," I say.

"You don't really know me at all, do you?" She stokes the stubble on my cheek with a gently curved finger.
"This is about love, Gregory … not sex."

Gregory? She sends chills down my spine. "But you've got to admit …"

She ignores me. "You did get one thing right. I am attracted to damaged people.
I can only love when I'm surrounded by pain and imperfection. I'm pathetic – but then you always knew that."

"Cameron, I didn't mean …"

"I've decided to stop torturing myself over you."
Cameron reaches under the table and fastens a restraint around my chest as she speaks. "I have to sever your hold on me."

"What are you doing?"
She straps down my waist and continues to ignore me. "It's the only answer."

"It could have been so easy to heal you with my love, but nothing's ever easy with you, is it?
You couldn't wait to reject me."

She sighs. "You've left me no choice. I have to fix you before I can move on.
You trapped me, House, and I don't like being trapped. You forced me to do this."

The look in her eyes terrifies me.
Have I driven her to join me on the brink of insanity?

"Cameron, stop it! This isn't fun anymore! You've gone too far!"
Bile rises from my gut with every word she utters.

She pouts as she tightens the restraint on my hips.
"Oh, but I can't stop now … it's too late. Chase is waiting for us."

She waves to a lone figure in the observation gallery.
Has he been watching us? Did he see us making love?
It was love we were making, despite how it seemed.

I struggle to free myself but it's no use.

"HELP ME … SOMEBODY HELP!"
I scream at the top of my lungs as Chase walks into the operating room.

"Shut up, House. There's no one around to hear you. God that feels good.
Do you know how much I hated listening to your shit when I worked for you?"

I decide not to respond.
He looks strange, standing there in his lab coat.
His legs are bare.
Is he naked too?

"Don't worry, House, it will all be over soon.
Here, take a couple Vicodin."
Cameron supports my neck.
I toss my head back and dry-swallow the pills as she talks to the Wombat.

"Chase, can you get this over with, so we can go home and fuck?"
"Why? So you can see how I measure up against House?"

He stares at my cock.
She follows his gaze. "You're right. There's no point. I'll just wash my hair."

I find it odd that I choose to smirk at a time like this.
It's poetic justice, in a way.
Cameron will never be satisfied with another man now.
She should think about that … before she kills me.

Chase looks dejected as he continues his preparations.
"If you want me to save time, I'll use this little beauty instead of the surgical saw."

I can't see what he's talking about.

Cameron selects a permanent marker from her breast pocket and carefully draws a dotted line above the grotesque memorial to my infarction.

"Cut here …" she orders.
"Anything you say, love," he responds, with typical Aussie charm.

"Here, bite down on this."
Cameron tries to wedge a rolled cloth between my jaws.

"I'm not anesthetized …" I cry pleadingly to her unresponsive eyes.

She looks at Chase.
They double over in laughter as she shoves the towel in my mouth.

"You want anesthetic? That's a good one …" she cackles.
"Why would a cold, unfeeling bastard like you need anesthetic?"

"You won't feel a thing, House. You never did. You never will.
That's why I have to leave you now."

She kisses me sweetly and walks to the door.
I never thought it would end like this.

I close my eyes as Chase rips the starter cord of the chainsaw's engine.
The choking stench of oil and gasoline permeates the operating room.
He lowers the blade.
I'm about to die.

"Do it."
Are Cameron's words the last I'll ever hear?

Epidermis. Dermis. Nerves. Subcutis. Veins. Arteries. Vastus Lateralis. Femur. Gluteus Maximus. Abductor Magnus. Arteries. Veins. Subcutis. Nerves. Dermis. Epidermis.

It is over in seconds.

oOoOo

"House …" she whispers.
"Cameron, what …" I begin.
"Shhhh … I'll take care of you. Trust me."

I feel nothing.
How could I, when there's nothing left to feel?

I am shrouded in darkness.
Shouting men. Crying women. Wailing sirens.
Sounds. So many sounds. And none of them good.

Am I in hell?

She touches me.
She removes the damp cloth that soothes my eyes.
I can see.
Everything.

Green tiled walls. A stark white curtain.
Is Cameron's face stained with tears?
She peels off her gloves. They are covered in blood … my blood.
"You're all fixed. There shouldn't be any residual pain once you heal."

The leg is gone …

I lash out in anger.
"My pain will never be gone. If you think a few stitches are all I need, you don't really know me at all."

"I assure you House, I've sutured your leg correctly," she says defensively.

"You've destroyed my life. Just go. Go home.
Go fuck Chase, wash your hair and forget about me. I'll be fine.
I don't feel a thing. Remember?"

"Keep your voice down!" she hisses quietly in my ear. "Everyone will hear you!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, but just for the record, my hair is clean and I won't be fucking Chase in the foreseeable future!"

"Once this freezing wears off, you'll feel plenty of pain, House. I promise you!"

"Freezing?"
Her hands are splayed on her slender hips.
Her skin is the same shade as her pink surgical scrubs.
She's mad at me.

"I didn't become a doctor to torture my patients, House. Not even you!"
"Patient?"

Her demeanor softens.
"You don't have a clue what's going on, do you?"

I manage to sit up.
I rub my wrists to ease the ache from my phantom restraints.
I see one leg.
Then the other.

I tug at the hem of my hospital gown. I might as well be naked.
She restores my modesty. "Sorry. I tried not to look."
I laugh self-consciously and observe a delicate blush creeping over her cheeks.
"You owe me, you know … tit for tat."

"So what do you think?" I smirk, daring her eyes southward.

She doesn't flinch from my challenge.
"Impressive. You're hung like a horse.
And don't you dare ask if I want to go for a ride."
The thought never crossed my mind …

I struggle to support the weight of my body.
Cameron wraps her slender arm around my shoulders as I flirt with the idea of fainting.

"What happened to me?"

"Ecstasy."

"Ecstasy?" I repeat, thinking only of her. The word conjures up no sinister meaning at the moment.
"Ecstasy. A clinic patient went berserk and slashed your thigh with a machete."

"Did I do something to piss him off?" I ask innocently, expecting an affirmative answer.
"Surprisingly, no …" Cameron says matter-of-factly.

I take her hand in mine. Our fingers lace.
I unexpectedly utter two simple words.

"Thank you. "
"You're welcome."

She studies the sutures that track across my thigh, bearing witness to the attack on my limb.

"Did you ever consider …?"
I shake my head 'no', as she covers me with a blanket.

"But the pain …" Her voice trails off as she assesses my decision
"Defines every waking moment of my life."

She squeezes my hand and lowers me back on the bed.
"You need to rest, House. You've lost a lot of blood."

My eyes grow heavy, but I have to know.
"Why did you leave Chase?"
Her hand lingers on my cheek.
"Let's just say, perfection is overrated."

"I'm still damaged, you know …"
"Yes, you are." Cameron smiles at my blatant offer.

She cares.
I just might have a chance.

The End