chapter 1

Hell lies behind and in front of you; you're quite sure about that. Silent tears flow down your cheeks as you sit there, a blanket draped over your legs, and look out of the window. It is a typical evening near the end of the summer. The days are still warm but the weather changes fast and it begins to rain more regularly. Right now, the rain is pouring down and the people are hiding under their umbrellas, searching the easiest and fastest way to get inside, into the warmth.

It's slowly getting dark outside so it has to be something around eight o'clock in the evening. Chase is out during the shopping – something that has always been your business – and you're alone the first time since that night.

So much has changed since then. It's only been eight days but still… your life will never be the same again. Everything will change now and although both, Chase and the doctors, told you that several things will change but surely not everything, you notice only now that they lied.

The way you get through your life will be entirely different. People will see you with different eyes. Chase will see you with different eyes. You yourself need to accept that you can't be who you've been before and honestly, how is that supposed to be 'not everything'?

How are you supposed to work? How are you supposed to be a doctor? How are you supposed to be a lover? How are you supposed to be a friend? How are you supposed to be all this when you can't even do the shopping on your own?

Your sobs break the silence in the apartment and trying to calm yourself you close your eyes. What a stupid idea, you notice the next moment when the pictures in your head get clearer now that you can't visualize anything else anymore.

You see yourself laying in the hospital bed, the doctor telling you that they'll run some other tests. As a doctor you should have known that this wasn't a good sign. More tests usually meant it is something serious. This is something you should have learned within your time with House. You can't believe how blind you've been back then.

And how could the thing with the pain not wake you up so that your mind works probably? Usually feeling no pain is a good thing but after a car crash you're supposed to feel pain. As you think about it know, as a doctor, you know that in this case, pain would have been a good thing – at least you would have known that you felt something. But seeing that you were a patient back at this point, you pushed this knowledge beside. How naïve you have been.

The moment the doctor ended this time of suppression is one of the clearest pictures you have. He lets your bubble burst with just one little prick.

"Doctor Cameron. We've got your results." You gazed at the doctors – there were three of them this time and all of them showed the same serious expression. At this moment you knew alone from this that something was definitely off. This announcement didn't sound good.

"You're suffering from an incomplete paraplegia. Your vertebral column is traumatized due to the crash. This trauma can heal but as a doctor you know that the chances are only slight."

You still don't know exactly what happened afterwards. You remember snippets of a conversation. Something about training and not giving up. Something about how your life doesn't need to change completely and about how you should fight. These memories are blurred. You felt numb. They must have left your room at some point but you don't remember.

Since then, everything went down. You've spend the following four days in the clinic. They wanted to keep an eye on you and meant to help you to adjust to the situation, as they expressed it. How are you supposed to 'adjust' at all?

Chase has been by your side 24/7. He came as soon as he was discharged and since then he has only left to bring new clothes and a few essential supplies for both of you. He spent the nights on the chair next to your bed, he took you out of your room for lunch in the cafeteria or for a walk in the park and he tried everything to cheer you up.

He even tried to make you smile and managed it a few times – this was maybe the hardest part, making you smile.

Although he put up a good façade, as you tried to do as well, you could sometimes glance at something else, something deeper. The most outstanding emotion was guilt and this is still what you see when you make eye contact. He seems to feel guilty for your situation and you try to assure him every time that this isn't the case but you weren't able to convince him otherwise till now so you block this discussion most of the time. You can't deal with this right now.

When the aforesaid four days were over, everything got even worse. How that was even possible was something you still can't understand.

The way home was the first problem. Jesus, you've never been that afraid of something before. It took Chase fifteen minutes to convince you that you needed to get into the car to leave the hospital.

The ride home was horrible and when you arrived at your apartment you were even forced used the elevator for the first time since you moved in. That hurt. Finally inside your apartment, Chase helped you to lie down and totally exhausted as you were you fell asleep immediately.

The following days are blurred. Has there been any kind of routine established since then? You doubt it. You mostly sit at the window and gaze outside as you are right now. How many hours have passed like this? How many days…? You've lost track of time. You can't forget the pictures and your thoughts so you try to push them away by observing people but honestly, who thinks that that would help? They are walking around, shopping, laughing and driving around on their bikes – these are only additional things you won't do anymore, you notice.

A light knock at the door startles you out of your thoughts. Who is that? Chase has a key and you really don't want to see anyone. But what if it is important? - No, everything can wait. But what if someone needs your help? Maybe the old woman who's living next door?

You sigh and move your wheelchair to the apartment door hesitantly. There is another gentle knock on the door. Hopefully this is really important 'cause you actually don't want to see anyone if it's not absolutely necessary… or –more precisely- you don't want anyone to see you.

"I'm coming."

A/N: I have no medical experience on this topic. I trust a German author and a German TV production plus the research I did with everything medically related to Cameron's state so if I'm wrong about anything, please tell me immediately!