All righty then. This is the first fic that I've written that has been any longer than a oneshot. Few little things to get out of the way. First, I do not own House, MD. House, MD is David Shore's toy, and he won't let me borrow it. Second, this story ain't gonna be nice. The first chapter's okay, but later on there's gonna be violence, there's gonna be sexual stuff, and there's almost certainly gonna be naughty words. If you don't like that kind of stuff, then don't read it. There is also gonna be a fair amount of slash (although probably not too explicit) between everyone's favorite oncologist and everyone's favorite diagnostician, because I'm like that. Finally, beware the minor Cam-bashing. She's not that bad, really. This is just how I perceive the idea of her relationship with House.

Okay. On with the story.

Chapter 1

Cameron sighed, rubbing her forehead with the end of her pen. She couldn't help but worry about House. Something was off, not quite right. House had returned to work for the first time since his two week vacation that morning, and even before he had said a word Cameron had realized that he had changed. He was thinner and paler than she could remember him ever having been, and it was as if he had aged ten years in a fortnight. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, and not just from his leg, but he wasn't displaying it by means of shouting and pacing, as was the norm. He wasn't displaying it at all. But after working for the man for nearly three years, Cameron could tell. Call it women's' intuition. She just knew.

Aside from the physical, she, along with Chase and Foreman, hadn't been able to help noticing how his behavior had changed. Cuddy had insisted that House take a vacation after his return from rehab at the end of February, and had even gone so far as to pick out a location and book flights and a hotel for him. Cameron had worried about House going alone, but House, Wilson, Cuddy, Chase and Foreman had all reassured her that House was, in fact, a grown man who could look after himself quite easily. Cameron had also been unable to deny the fact that House had been in desperate need of a vacation - rehab had left him cleaner than he had been in years, but exhausted, both mentally and physically. House had pretended to grumble and protest when Cuddy had told him that he was going to Hawaii for two weeks, but the lure of no clinic duty proved to be greater than the fear of the boredom that would result from a lack of medical cases. The whole point was that when House returned he would be relaxed, refreshed, and ready to start living his life again. The reality was about as far from that as it was possible to be. House was acting as though he had a severe case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, his eyes darting around the room, hands constantly fidgeting, jumping whenever anyone spoke. All three of the fellows had called him on his strange behavior, but each time, they'd been greeted with the same "Fine, I'm fine".

A couple of minutes ago, half way through the differential diagnosis of their newest patient (a particularly interesting case that Cameron had found after literally days of sifting through referrals and requests for consults), House had begun to sweat heavily and his breathing rate had sped up. He had thrown a couple more possible diagnoses at them, before hurrying into his office and slamming the door. They had watched as House had sat down at his desk and placed his head in his hands. The three fellows had been left confused and, in Cameron's case, extremely worried.

Something must have happened, Cameron decided. She had no idea what, but she cared about House and she knew that House cared about her too. She wasn't naïve enough to think that he was in love with her, but then again, she wasn't naïve enough to believe that people fell in love. Love was something that had to be worked towards. She had no doubts that she and House could have a healthy, functional relationship, but it would need a lot of work and a lot of time. The point was that if there was something bothering House this badly, Cameron wanted to know about it so that she could help him. She got to her feet.

"Hi. I'm looking for Greg House?"

Cameron turned her head quickly at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. At the door to the conference room stood a tall African-American woman in her mid-forties. Her hair was meticulously braided, and had been pulled back into a professional ponytail. Her clothes were not dissimilar to those that Cuddy was wearing that day: a white blouse, a navy blue blazer and a matching knee-length navy skirt.

"Who are you?" Cameron couldn't keep notes of suspicion and wariness from creeping into her voice. Which was perfectly reasonable, in her opinion. After all, the last time a person that she didn't know had walked into the conference room, her boss had ended up on the floor with two bullets in his body.

The woman walked briskly over to Cameron and held out her hand. "Abbey Stokes. I'm a friend of Greg; we met last week. Could you tell me where he is?"

Slightly dubiously, Cameron shook Abbey's hand. "He's in his office, just through there." She gestured in the appropriate direction. "But he's not very well today. He probably doesn't want any vis-"

"In that case, I'll be sure to keep things short. Thank you for your help." She walked through into House's office. Cameron watched as Stokes placed a hand gently on House's shoulder. House jerked violently, and even from a distance Cameron could see that House was in a state of panic. Seeing Stokes, he seemed to calm slightly.

"So that's what House was doing in Hawaii," Chase said, interrupting Cameron's reverie. He snickered at his own joke. The ghost of a smile appeared on Foreman's face.

"House hasn't had sex with her!" Cameron said sharply, "And if he has, then it's none of our business." None of their business, at any rate. She could feel something hot and painful in the pit of her stomach. Stokes wasn't House's girlfriend. House didn't have a girlfriend. There was an innocent explanation.

"Maybe that's why he's been acting so strange. Withdrawal from his new girlfriend," grinned Foreman.

"I can't believe that you two think this is funny," hissed Cameron. "There is something very wrong with House, and you both saw it. Stop making stupid, juvenile jokes and start thinking about what could be the problem!"

"Relax, Cameron," said Chase. "He said he was fine."

"He always says that he's fine. It doesn't mean he is."

Their almost-argument was interrupted by the arrival of Wilson. "Hi, you three. Have you seen-"

"House is in his office," Cameron told him. She decided to ask the obvious question, straight out. "He's been acting strangely today. Stranger than usual. Do you know if anything happened to him while he was in Hawaii?"

Wilson tensed. He was silent for a couple of seconds. "Well?" prompted Cameron.

"He was, uh, in a car accident."

"Oh my God! Is he okay? When was this, exactly?"

"He's, um, he's fine. Not hurt, not badly, anyway. But, uh, he was trapped in the car for a long time while the EMTs tried to get him out. That might explain why he's a little jumpy."

Cameron frowned. House wasn't the only one acting jumpy. Wilson wasn't telling her the whole truth. But what Wilson was saying made sense. It was a plausible explanation for what was wrong with House.

Wilson looked over towards the office for the first time. He looked a little confused at the extra person. "Who is House talking to?" he asked.

Foreman shrugged. "Said her name was Abbey Stokes. Know her?"

Wilson's face cleared. "Ah, yes. House met her in Hawaii. I guess you could say that they're friends."

Friends, Cameron told herself, friends, nothing more. She looked again at the scene in House's office. House and Stokes were deep in conversation. Cameron could see that one of House's hands was lying on the table, and that Abbey had placed one of her hands on top of it.

She felt as though the bottom of her stomach had just dropped out. There was a stinging feeling in the corners of her eyes. Oh, God. She had to get out of the conference room before she started bawling in front of everyone.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to be in the clinic." Cameron hurried in the direction of the door, ignoring Chase's shout of "But what about the patient?".

Abbey Stokes barely looked up as Wilson entered the room. House was still looking a little panicky, Wilson noted, but nowhere near as bad as he could have been. House jumped when the door closed, but when he saw Wilson, he seemed to relax completely. Wilson made his way over to House's desk, choosing to stand behind House, with his hands placed comfortingly on the older man's shoulders.

"Good morning, James," Abbey greeted the oncologist. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, Abbey," Wilson replied. "How are things going?"

"Well, Greg seems to be doing okay, but I can't say that being back at work is going to be the best thing for him at the moment." House opened his mouth to protest, but Abbey cut in front of him. "Yes, I know that you want to return your life to normal, but you can't just pretend that nothing happened. You've been through some very traumatic events, and you need to take your time in your recovery. I'm going to recommend that the two of you take another week off to recuperate and talk about what has happened."

Wilson nodded. "I think that that would be a good idea."

House was determined to shoot the idea down in flames. "Cuddy wouldn't let the two of us-"

"Of course she would. She knows what you've been through."

"Will the two of you stop cutting in front of me?" Wilson couldn't help but smile at that comment. House sounded annoyed. He sounded normal. That was a big change from the quiet, subdued, scared person that he had become over the last fourteen days.

Abbey continued. "I'd like to come and see the two of you at some point during the week, if that's okay. I'd also like Greg to be referred to a psychiatrist. I can help him a little, but really I'm a bereavement counselor. This kind of work isn't what I'm trained to do."

"Of course. Thanks for everything you've done, Abbey."

Abbey got to her feet. "Well, I only really called in because I was passing and I wanted to see how the two of you were getting on. I would stay longer, but I'm already late for work. I'll give you a call, James, and we'll arrange something."

Once Abbey had left, Wilson sat down in the seat that she had vacated. He was silent. He knew better than to push the conversation. House would speak when he was ready. Maybe they'd have an argument. Maybe House would reveal something. Most likely, House would say nothing. Wilson still didn't know exactly what had gone on, and he knew that it would take time to find out.

"Wilson?"

"Mm?"

"I'm ready." Wilson was shocked. He hadn't expected this. So much for taking time to find out.

"Are you sure? We don't have to do this now. We could wait until we get home-"

"No. I want to tell you now."

"Okay, House. Tell me what happened."

Reviews are life. This idea has been running around my head for a little while now, so I figured it was about time to show it to the outside world. Of course, if the outside world is disgusted by this chapter, then I'll put it back in its cage. Just say the word.