MOVING FORWARD

CHAPTER 2 - WHEN DAY TURNS TO NIGHT

The sound of thunderclap boomed loudly outside the window, where copious rivers of rain showered the glass, making the outside world blurry. The small hospital room was lit by fluorescent neons, making it vastly contrasted by the surreal dark world outside. It was sometime after 4 o'clock.
The hospital had been closed off to all, and tried to dispatch home as many patients as it could, in the aftermath of the explosion the lab had suffered 30 hours earlier.
Investigations were at their peak, so it was normal to see police officials and forensic science units prowling the corridors, talking to the staff and having brief meetings with Cuddy, who managed to look composed and professional as well as tired and harassed.

All the explosion victims had been quickly rushed to the ER, but Cameron had been moved to the Diagnostics department, on Cuddy's orders.

She still hadn't woken up and her vitals were stable - she'd been saved by a large shelf and the counter itself crashing on top of her, effectively taking the brunt of the explosion.
Shock, it was diagnosed.
Her mind was simply shutting down to escape the trauma she'd lived, to gain the necessary to recharge, so when she woke up, she'd be better equipped to deal with the memories. She had regular visitors, despite the fact that she was alone in a vast wing of the department.
Among the visitors were Chase and Foreman, as well as Wilson and other sympathetic nurses she'd been friendly and sometimes had lunch with.

Of course, the investigators kept coming back, hoping to get a statement about what happened, but House forcefully drove them away each time - especially because it was once suggested that she be woken to answer their questions.
House's reply was controlled but his eyes said it all, in their firm glacial clarity: you have one chance to go away and not come back till you're called, or I cane your asses now.

"We understand the seriousness of the lady's conditions, but it's imperative that she tells us about what happened in there."

House gazed at them coldly, perfectly composed and impassive.
"And I understand that being an asshole is part of your job, but seeing as I am Dr. Cameron's physician, you better clear off or I'll have you escorted to the exit by Jimmy over there"
He signalled to one of the security guards milling about the stairs and lifts, who immediately ambled over and stared pointedly at the policemen, whom walked out of their own accord, grumbling about the way they'd been treated.

Foreman walked out of Cameron's room and debriefed House on her conditions - no change - and took the stairs to the cafeteria.
House turned round to look at the woman lying on the bed, and debated about resuming his place of vigil or hiding somewhere to clear his head. Popping a Vicodin in his mouth, he hobbled to the nurses' desk and informed them to keep an eye on Cameron whilst he was away. He felt compelled to go outside for some reason, so he made his way to the roof, slowly and dejectedly, looking tired and dishevelled, but his mind teemed with activity.

The feeling of the cold rain trickling over him caused him to shiver, but he moved closer to the edge anyway, looking out across the grounds to the lworld that ley beyond the hospital.
The relative calmness of his surroundings contrasted greatly with the assault the past couple of days were having on his mind.

House placed his cane in front of him and rested both hands on it, head hanging down, so that uncomfortable rain drops made their way down his face, resting on his jaw before tumbling from his chin down to the ground.
He knew it was very risky to saty out on a rooftop during a thunderstorm, but as of this moment in time, he felt his need to retreat far more impotant than his own safety.

"Greg!"
House gripped his cane tightly.
"Help me!"
He shut his eyes tightly and ground his teeth in an attempt to gain control.
"I'm here! Greg...please!"

He remembered walking away from his office when a rumbling sound traced its way from far below, and he wobbled for a fraction of a second, afraid he'd tumble to the floor.
When it was over, he looked around disoriented, then heded downstairs. As soon as he set foot on the first floor, utter chaos reached him.
Patients were running in the opposite direction, screaming and huddling. Nurses ran to and fro, shouting there'd been an explosion at the far end of the corridor. House immediately limped towards the source of panic, which happened to be the lab.
His heart was lodged in his throat.
Smke made it difficult to see and breathe.
His leg protested at the rigorous pace he'd set to walking.
His eyes stung form the smoke billowing out the double steel soors, but despite all this, House forced himself to walk on.

"...you can't go in there! The lab isn't safe!"
Wilson's face was a blur in his memory, along with the vague form of Cuddy swimming at the periphery of his vision.
"Let go of my arm."
His breaths came out in ragged cacophony.
"Help...I'm in here!"
"ALLISON!"

House was as though split in two, one standing on a wet rooftop, with only half a brain, whilst the other lived on in the memories, where his eyes and ears and the rest of him could see and hear all that had gone on thirty hours earlier.
And this is where the conflict lay - half of his mind wanted nothing more than return to normal, whilst the other half relentlessly pursued to remain in that place where the memories were disjointed and painful.
He rebelled against the tugging of his heart, telling him to run to her and hold her and a do a lot more that was forbidden because she was unreacheable to him.

The sharp, booming clap of thunder sounded once more and echoed vastly in the open environment.
How coult it be so difficult to be detached? House questioned.
He'd never been the emotional type, in fact he regularly scorned those who were (like Cameron) and prided himself on his control and aloofness. There were times when he'd been sorely tempted to let his guard down, but those were best left unmentioned, even if his control always won in the end.

All of this was seemed to crumble, he reflected, till he was left standing naked and bereft, exposed to all hurts and the sorts of feelings that made his knees tremble, and he wanted none of it.
But when he'd seen the smoke coming out of those doors, recalled the shaking as well as the rumbling noise with painful clarity, it was as though he became a completely different person, and all because this one woman, this tiny woman was trapped and seriously injured under the rubble, on the othe side of the steel barrier.

How could she do this to him?
How could he lose control so quickly, so completely that he turned into a soft version of Dr. Jekyll to his Mr. Hide?
How could Allison Cameron of all people turn him into a faithful lackey, ambitious of nothing more than keeping her in sight just by looking into his eyes?
It had all happened so quickly...why was it taking him this long to get over it?
House finally regained enough of his senses to step out of the rain and descend back to Diagnostics.

He settled himself as comfortably as he could in his office chair and turned up the volume to the music, pondering and thinking and raving till he exhausted himself into an unsettled sleep, deeply uncomfortable in his drenched clothes.
Wilson woke him up not long after, and quietly told him to take a hot shower and get a change of clothes.

She'd slept through the afternoon and the evening, though she was stable and as 'healthy' as could be expected. Chase had the evening shift, so because Foreman had already done his shift, at precisely 12:06am House entered Cameron's room to check on her before heading home to sleep for a couple of hours, get a change of clothes and come back at 5am.

He stepped closer to the bed and quietly stared down at the tranquil face, fighting the unnatural itch to bursh a light kiss on both creamy smooth lids.
One of the nurses forgot to take away the food trayt, so it rested on the bedside table. House frowned as his eyes dissected the cold, lumpy potatoes and limp vegetables. His mouth twisted in distaste when he looked at the thin, cold meat and quietly scoffed.
He'd have to talk to Cuddy about this.
The state of this food made it unfit nourishment for patients that had survived a horrifying experience but had yet to wake from their coma-like sleep. House frowned again and shook himself.

Greg, you big softie
Despite his min'ds demand he regain control, he stepped closer to the bed and reached out a hand to softly caress Cameron's forearm.
That touch alone brought instant memories back to the surface - those particular memories - and with an abrupt motion, he backed away and shuffled towards the door.
Before he had a chance to turn away from her completely, he noticed one of her fingers twitching, and froze.
His eyes swiftly flew to her face, then swivelled up to the machine, noting with disbelief that her heartrate was slowly but steadily rising, meaning only one thing.
She was waking up.

House exhaled a deep breath and resumed his touch, only this time he was lightly slapping her wrist, the impersonal touch of a doctor turned from the tender caress of a lover.
"Open your eyes Cameron."
Her eyelids flickered then slowly lifted, revealing murky eyes disoriented with slumber. House bent towards her face and her eyes squinted up at him briefly, then quickly squeezed shut. House dimmed the lights then came back to the bed side.
Cameron opened her eyes once more, and this time they settled solely on the man standing by her bed.

Murky grey clashed with intense icy blue, and heart fluttered, picked up by the machine, before beating steadily once more.
House waved a small torch light in front of her eyes and obediently followed it, then she gripped the bed sidebar and wiggled her toes. With a satisfied nod, House annotated her chart, then quietly stared at her, shifting his weight into a painless position.
"House..."
As though he'd been waiting just for that cue, he assessed her injuries with that cool tone of detachment he used in the conference room.
House was back in control.

"You've suffered a fracture to your ribs and a slight concussion to the head. Your lungs are fine now but we had to hook you to respiratory support for a few hours, because of the pressure that had rested on your thorax for an indefinite amount of time. Apart from some becoming scratches and bruises that give you a cow's complexion, you're just dandy."

"Thank you for all you've done."

House was already out the room and on his way to the car park, he quietly informed the nurses that Dr. Cameron was awake.

A.N. ---- Thank you all so much for your enthusiastic support, I was really happy when I read so many reviews after just one page! Keep it up! As you can see, I have rewarded thos reviewers with a second chapter, this isn't usual for me, it takes me ages to get on with stories.
Anyhow, to answer some of the questions: HOURON, is House/Cameron fics abbreviated. As to House's OOC in chapter one, he'd been well into shock by then ... also, there was an ... (clears throat) INCIDENT between him and Cameron in his office the night before, so he was still a bit iffy when it all happened. As you can all see, he's fighting to reagain control now, and is slowly succeeding.

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!!!

Lady Zee