Standing in front of her locker, Cameron traded her purse for her lab coat and slammed the door shut. With a yawn, she fastened her ID badge to her lab coat pocket and exited the women's locker room. It was nine in the morning, so she had about a half hour before House would probably come in. She figured she would go to the ER and see if there were any cases that House would consider accepting. So far she was on a one-day roll of avoiding House's clinic hours and she wanted to see if she could break her all time record of a week. She figured an actual case would probably help.
"Hey Brenda, got anything strange?" Cameron greeted House's least favorite nurse.
"Not especially." Brenda shrugged, grabbing for a stack of files. "Feel free to flip through these."
"Thanks," Cameron mumbled, accepting the stack and setting them down on the counter of the nurse's station. The first one was dehydration and the second was the flu, neither would interest anyone of higher rank than an intern. If she were a better person, she'd deal with them now and save some overworked ER doctor's some time, but she couldn't be bothered. The next two files were equally unpromising; a boy with fainting spells and a broken hip on an eighty-three year-old. Cameron grabbed for the last file praying for something interesting.
"Why's this file still down here?" Cameron asked, holding up the Hadley file to show Brenda.
"None of the paperwork's been signed yet so we can't technically treat him although he's been admitted." Brenda shrugged.
"…And treated. He's post-op." Cameron noticed, flipping through the surgical notes in the file.
"Boy said his mother was going to come in today when my shift started around six. He promised he'd send her over. I'm sure she'll turn up soon. It's still early." Brenda responded, while flipping through one of Cameron's rejected files.
"Who leaves their teenage son fresh out of brain surgery alone." Cameron rolled her eyes. She also wondered why the mother hadn't signed the forms last night. She had to have come in to at least take the little girl home and claim her husband's body.
"Some mother's have jobs, Dr. Cameron." Brenda said. Cameron wondered if she had offended Brenda. She didn't think the women had kids, but she really didn't know. Knowing how the nurses loved to exact revenge (or maybe they just all hated House) she figured she should apologize.
"Sorry," Cameron mumbled half-heartedly. She picked up the Hadley file and headed up to the third floor where the boy had been placed. If she couldn't find a new patient, the least she could do was a follow up.
Cameron reached a finger to hit the up arrow in front of the elevator, but the blunt end of a flaming cane hit it first. She turned around realizing House had finally arrived to work.
"Good morning," She greeted him. He looked like hell (as per usual). He wore a wrinkled band shirt with a wrinkled half-buttoned dress shirt over it. He had topped the look off with a navy sport coat and aviators. House gave her a small smile. He pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket.
"I see you've brought me a present from the ER." He reached for the file, but Cameron held firm.
"Just a follow up," she dismissed his inquiry. The elevator arrived and he pushed ahead of her. Cripples first, she should have known. Cameron stepped in behind him, shaking her head.
"On who?" House asked, grabbing for the file again. Cameron handed it over this time and reached in front of him to hit the button for the diagnostic floor and for floor three.
"You think he has more errands?" House smirked.
"You're the one that told me to pick up the sister. You were being nice and so was I." Cameron frowned. She should have known that he would ask her to do something nice for a patient then give her shit for doing it.
"By all means, maybe he has dry cleaning." House handed back the file. "Get the mom, call social services if you have to, and then go downstairs and do my clinic hours."
"I'll see how this pans out," Cameron stepped off the elevator. "You should probably send Foreman."
"That would just be racist. Making the Black doctor do the women's work." House laughed as the doors to the elevator slipped shut again. Cameron sighed and headed to room 317. Through the glass doors she could see the boy flipping through his own chart with his sister asleep in the chair by his bed.
"Hi, Daniel." Cameron opened the sliding door. She tried to be quiet as to not wake his sister, "Your mom around?" she asked. If Remy was here the mom had to be somewhere.
"Around," He nodded. "What does all this mean?" He held up the clipboard. Cameron took it from him and glanced at the page.
"Just doctor stuff. You're not really supposed to be reading this." Cameron took the chart and placed it back on the back of his bed.
"Am I going to be okay?" He asked. "Like how long will I be in here for?"
Cameron looked at the file she had brought in. "Everything looks great. We like to keep surgical patients for a day or two just for monitoring, but you should make a full recovery."
"So, I could leave?" He asked. Cameron looked him over. What was this boy trying to do?
"In a day or two." She nodded. Cameron glanced over at Remy. Her right eye had swollen up and turned a nasty shade of purple. Her mother should have made sure she iced it, but it was too late now.
Cameron noticed she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. "Your mom's not here is she?" Cameron asked, feeling a sinking sense of dread pass through her.
"She's on her way. Remy just didn't want to leave me last night. You know how little girls can be." Daniel brushed her off.
"Doesn't she have school?" Cameron asked, flipping through the file again. There were no signs of neglect. The boy was a healthy with no previous injuries.
"Our dad just died." Daniel was nonplused and Cameron suddenly felt like a jerk. Especially considering what she was going to have to say next.
"Look Daniel, you need to give me your mom's number or I'm going to have to call social services." Cameron said, feeling awful about threatening a teenager right out of surgery. She knew there was a mother somewhere. That girl at the elementary school had said something about her.
"She doesn't have a cell phone." Daniel's eyes darted around the room.
"You have a cell phone." Cameron raised an eyebrow.
"Look, she can't come in, okay? But why does she have to? I have health insurance. I'm not going to skip out on the bills." Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. He was beginning to get loud, and Remy was squirming in the chair.
"It's not about money. It's about the law. You're a minor." Cameron couldn't believe he wouldn't hand over her number. "I'm going to have to make that call."
"You can't! I have a mom. We're not orphans just yet." Daniel looked an odd combination of furious, devastated, and disoriented. Remy sat up and began to rub her face.
"Then the social worker will bring her here, and you have nothing to worry about," Cameron said, except for pissing a few Doctors off.
"What's going on?" Remy asked, looking up at Cameron recognizing her from yesterday.
"They need mom in here, bud." Daniel said to his sister.
"What?" she asked.
"Remy, will you give me your mom's phone number?" Cameron asked the little girl gently. Remy glanced over at Daniel. Neither responded to her.
"I'll be back," Cameron sighed. She should have left them alone and let a nurse handle this all. She hated calling social services. It tended to be a surefire way to piss patient's families off. She was all for it when it looked like it was necessary, but these kids didn't look like the type from bad homes. Though, she supposed abuse could come in all forms.
Cameron went over to the nurse's station on the floor and dropped the file down in front of her. She reached over the desk for the phone, but she felt a tap on her back. Placing the phone on the counter she turned around.
"You want to tell me how to reach your mom?" Cameron asked, spotting Remy.
"Please don't call social services, Dr. Cameron." Remy pleaded. "They'll split us up."
"What's going on at home?" Cameron asked.
"Nothing's going on at home," Remy answered. "Daniel is the best big brother on the planet. He walks me to and from school every day. He keeps me safe. We're a family."
"And where's your mom, Remy?" Cameron asked, vaguely remembering a mandatory seminar about communicating with pediatric patients that she had slept through. The one thing she remembered was calling the patient by their name…or maybe she got that from a law and order episode.
"She's across the street." Remy's hard face crumpled. "She's sick with Huntington's Chorea."
Cameron gulped. Now she felt truly awful. "She's at the hospice?"
"She can't come get us or sign any forms, but she's alive and we're fine. We don't need social services." Remy said. Cameron's heart broke for the girl, it really did. But, if anything, she now felt like she had to call more than ever. These kids really were alone. They shouldn't have to care for themselves, let alone for their mother too.
"Remy, you and your brother can't live alone. Social services does great things and I think they could make life a lot easier for you and your brother." Cameron said, "I really do have to call. We can't let your brother leave without a guardian."
Remy took in a deep breath. "Fine," she groaned before she turned around to leave. Cameron picked up the phone and dialed the number. She turned back towards the hospital. Remy was walking the wrong way.
"317, Daniel Hadley has no legal guardian. He's been lying about the mother. Can you get social services up here?" Cameron asked the closest nurse, holding out the ringing phone.
The nurse nodded and accepted the phone and file from Cameron. Cameron thanked her, and rushed off down the hallway. She spotted a now dressed Daniel and his little sister holding his hand. They were stepping into the elevator. Cameron wondered if she should call security, but figured she would be faster. She bolted for the stairs and rushed down the two flights towards floor one.
She stepped out of the stairwell and met the opening doors of the elevator.
"Nice try," she greeted the two kids. They both glared back at her. If looks could kill...