Story Title: Touch of Destiny
Chapter Three: Of Clinics, Evasions, and Apologies
Chapter summery: The clinic is over loaded, House surprises Cameron and does something predictably 'House' before shocking someone special.
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Disclaimer: Not mine, unless you don't recognize a character. Then it is mine, and you shouldn't take it.
AN: Hmmm. Not as many reviews as last time. Is it any good? Or is the general consensus stating that I need to give up?
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The clinic was overloaded, as Chase and Foreman were quick to discover. They both clocked in and the nurse on duty gave them each a sympathetic grin and a stack of folders. "And this is just the beginning, Doctor." She said with a slight wince.
Chase sighed and set his stack of folders down. Picking up the top one, he read the name. "Dotty Myers?" He scanned the room and noticed an ancient looking woman stand up slowly. He grimaced inside and motioned for her to follow him.
Foreman grinned as Chase left and took the top folder from his own stack. "Freddy Ingles?" A little boy and his mother stood and headed towards him. Foreman smiled at the boy and shook the mom's hand. "I'm Dr. Foreman. If you would follow me please."
Once inside exam room 2, the mother took a seat in the swivel chair and wrung her hands nervously. The little boy, Freddy, froze at the door. Foreman noticed this and grinned at him. "C'mon, Freddy. Have a seat up here." He picked the boy up and set him down on the examination bed. "Now, let's have a look. Mrs. Ingles, what seems to be the problem with him?" Foreman took on a professional tone as he shone a light in the boy's ears.
"Nothing, I don't think. He just needs a physical and a…" She paused and her voice dropped to a stage whisper. "S-H-O-T." She spelled out with a fearful look at her son. He didn't seem to understand what his mom had spelled and was currently playing with a tongue depressor.
Foreman nodded. "I noticed from reading his file. I just wanted to make sure that there wasn't any other reason that he would be here." Turning back to Freddy, he grinned. "Okay, buddy. I need to check your reflexes." He held up the little triangular hammer. "See this? It let's me check how your reflexes are working. Take a look at this." He held Freddy's thigh and gently tapped the knee with the hammer. Freddy giggled when his leg jumped. Foreman repeated it with the other leg and put the hammer away, the little boy still giggling.
The rest of the physical was routine until the nurse walked in with Freddy's immunization. At seeing the tray with the syringes, Freddy gave a shriek that would put the Ringwraiths in Lord of the Rings to shame. "Noooooo!!!" He started to wiggle and squirm, trying to get off of the bed. His mom jumped up and held the squirming 5 year old. "NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!"
Foreman took the tray and readied the syringe. Setting it down on the tray again, he turned to the screaming boy. "Okay, Freddy. I want you to listen to me, okay?" The boy stopped squirming and nodded tearfully. "Have you ever had a cold?" The boy nodded. "Well, if you don't get this shot, then you will have a whole lot of colds, only this time, the colds will be much worse. You don't like sneezing and coughing, do you?" Freddy shook his head fervently. "Well without this shot, you'll have more than just sneezing and coughing. You'll get itchy spots all over, and you won't be able to play at home with your trucks and toys. You'll have to stay in bed all day until you get better."
The boy pulled a disgusted face then his eyes widened. "Will the shot hurt?"
Foreman shrugged. "It might. But your mom is right there, and I'm right here. And let me tell you a little secret." He dropped his voice to a mock whisper. "I hate shots too."
"Really?"
"Really really. Now how about it, trouper?"
"Okay." He bravely held out his arm and closed his eyes tightly.
Foreman wiped the arm with an alcohol swab and stuck the needle into the little vein. Freddy jumped and winced, but kept his eyes shut. Foreman took the needle out and stuck a Band-Aid on the spot. "There! All done."
"Really?"
"Scouts honor." He picked Freddy up and set him down on the ground. "You're all done, buddy."
"Thank you, Dr. Foreman." The mother gave him a grateful smile and led her son out of the room and down the hall.
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Meanwhile, in exam room 5, Chase was trying not to run out of the room screaming. The old woman, it turned out, was a hypochondriac, and insisted that she was dying of some rare disease. When he tried to convince her that in order to contract the disease, she would have had to visit Scandinavia because the disease couldn't be contracted anywhere else. She would have nothing to do with his explanation and insisted that she be tested.
With a resigned sigh, he drew some blood and told her to stay put. Walking down to the lab, he handed it to the nurse on duty. "Just run random tests on it. The old woman is convinced that she's contracted some rare Scandinavian disease."
The nurse grinned and motioned for him to take a seat. "It shouldn't take too long, Dr. Chase."
He nodded and leaned his head back to take a short nap. Not 10 minutes later, the nurse was nudging him. "What, huh?"
The nurse grinned at a flustered Chase and handed him the results. "She doesn't have a rare Scandinavian disease, but she does have diabetes."
He pursed his lips. "Really. That's interesting." He took the results and headed out back to the exam room.
"Finally!" The old lady huffed as Chase re-entered the room. He just raised an eyebrow and stuck the results in to her file.
"You don't have a rare Scandinavian disease. You are a diabetic." He said simply, trying to hide his aggravation.
"I know that!" The woman exclaimed indignantly. "This is something more, I'm sure of it."
"The lab work was clean." Chase said tiredly. "Have a good day, Mrs. Myers." He practically shoved her out of the room and collapsed into a chair. It was going to be a long day.
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Cameron had ended up crying herself back to sleep, and when she awoke, she had an enormous headache. As she lay in bed trying to will the headache away, she suddenly realized that she was hungry. Pushing the button to sit up, something caught her eye before she could push the call button for the nurse. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a bowl of something and a note. With a confused look, she picked up the note and opened it. She read it silently, her lips moving as she read, a smile forming the further down the note she read.
Dr. Gregory House.
Patient: Dr. Allison Cameron
Prescription: Eat the soup, it's good for you.
Comments: Why yes, I have a few comments. Allison Cameron, you need to get well soon because the diagnostic's staff are lonely without you, not to mention that your boss doesn't want to have Chase's coffee. It's nasty!
Signed: Dr. Gregory House, M.D.
PS: Open the bag beside your bed AFTER you eat. If the soup is cold, have a nurse nuke it for you.
PPS: I will know if you open it BEFORE you eat. I have eyes everywhere, Cameron.
She looked down at the side of her bed, and sure enough, there was the bag. She resisted opening the bag first and instead picked up the soup. It wasn't cold, but it sure wasn't hot any more. She decided against nuking it and tasted it instead. "Vegetable Barley. Not bad." She mused, touched by House's thoughtfulness.
It didn't take long for her to polish off the soup and soon she was holding the bag in her lap. Two emotions were racing through her; the most prominent was fear as to what the bag held. However, curiosity soon one her over and she slowly opened the bag. As she peered in, she burst out laughing.
She pulled out the stuffed pig with a tiny t-shirt that read "I ♥ PPHT." House had somehow secured a candy cane to the pig's right 'hoof' and had secured the whole animal to a toy motorcycle that was much too small for the animal. A note was tied to the handle bars of the bike.
Look! They had a fairly accurate depiction of me in the gift store, and naturally, I thought of you. You still have that obsession with canes, motorcycles, and pigs, don't you?
-House
Cameron chuckled and looked at the animal again. "You certainly are a pig, I'll give you that much." She grinned and propped the motorcycle-riding pig against the lamp on the bedside table.
Her nurse, Suzy, chose that moment to check up on her patient. "Hello dear."
"Hello, Suzy." Cameron still had traces of laughter in her voice and Suzy picked up on it.
"What has gotten you into such a good mood?" She asked curiously, her hands on her hips.
Cameron shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh nothing, just a gift from my boss." She held up the pig.
"Oh, that is just too funny." The nurse smiled and took the pig. "It fits him perfectly." She laughed with Cameron and handed it back. "Do you need anything dear?"
"No, I'm good." Cameron smiled. "Though if I could have my cell phone and charger, that would be nice. All my stuff is in the Diagnostics Department."
"I'll have all your 'stuff' from the Diagnostics Department sent up right away. Now don't you worry about anything, Dr. Cameron." Suzy exited the room as rapidly as she had entered. A couple of minutes later, she stuck her head in the door. "Someone is on their way right now."
"Thank you, Suzy." She smiled and the nurse was gone once more. She looked at the pig in her hand and cracked up again. "Oh, House, you really have outdone yourself this time."
She had just settled back against the pillows when a knock sounded at the door. But before she could say 'come in' the door swung open, revealing the most exasperating man she had ever met.
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Once his task was complete, House headed back to his department to eat his lunch in peace. Plopping down at his desk, he gingerly opened his sandwich and scowled. "Damn pickles." He proceeded to pick out the green disks with a pair of tweezers and dumped them into the trash can. Taking his iPod out of the secret spot in his drawer, he plugged his ears with the ear buds and turned it on. With his iPod blaring The Rolling Stones and his now un-pickled Rueben in hand, he leaned back in his chair and took a huge bite out of his sandwich.
The phone rang suddenly, and he scowled at the obnoxious box before ripping out his headphones and answering the phone. "Not interested."
"Clever, Greg." Wilson's wry tone flooded over the line and House grimaced.
"What do you want, Jimmy?" He snapped.
"To talk."
"So talk."
"I am."
"Wow, is that what it's called now?" House snarked. "Back in my day…"
"Okay, House, I get it."
"So what is the point of this call, Jimmy boy?"
He could hear Wilson sigh on the other end of the line. "I wanted to talk to you about Cameron."
"She's fine. Anything else?"
"House, stop evading."
"I am NOT evading. I am telling."
"Her getting shot wasn't your fault."
Click.
House had hung up the phone. 10 seconds later, it rang again.
"House, that wasn't nice."
"I'm not nice."
"And I was being serious."
House gasped in mock horror. "You? Serious? No way! Contact the national news station!"
"About Cameron. It wasn't…"
"Bye Jimmy." House yelled into the phone before slamming it down once again. Almost immediately, the phone rang again.
"No, Jimmy, I will not discuss this with you."
There was silence before a voice that most defiantly wasn't Wilson came across the line. "Hello to you too, Dr. House. I have a request here from Dr. Cameron. It seems as if she has left her bag and other necessities in your office. Would you care to send it up?" The nurse on the other end sounded amused.
"Fine, whatever. It'll get there." House grated out, annoyed. He slammed the phone down again and buried his face in his hands.
"House…" A voice from the doorway resulted in a large tennis ball flying through the air.
"What, so annoying me on the phone isn't enough? Now you have to stalk me in my office?" House snarked, standing up and gathering Cameron's belongings together, annoyed at the timing Wilson's arrival.
Wilson just caught the ball and tossed it onto the ground. "Well, you know how it is. I haven't gotten my daily dose of insults from you yet."
It's time to visit Cameron again, I believe. He thought to himself, finishing his sandwich and chucking the wrapper in the trash can.
"Bye, Jimmy!" He slung the strap to Cameron's bag over his shoulder, grabbed his cane and began the trek to room 212, leaving Wilson standing in his office, just staring at the desk that House had just vacated, shaking his head.
He came to a stop at the door to Cameron's room. With a deep breath, he took his cane, and knocked on the door three times before opening it. He found himself locking eyes with the woman inside. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." She replied softly.
"So…" He nodded towards the pig in her hand. "I see you got a gift."
"Yeah. I did." She smirked and set the pig on the table. "Out of all the gifts I've received in my life, this one has got to be the most creative gift anyone has ever given me."
He decided to play along with her game. "Oh really?" He sat down on the chair and bounced his cane on the ground. "So who was the giver of the pig?"
"Oh, a friend." She emphasized friend with a bit of sarcasm and looked away.
"Really." He said shortly, her sarcasm ringing clear in his mind, instantly bringing up his defenses. "Some friend you got there."
"Yeah, he really is." She said in her soft tone, all signs of sarcasm gone. "He's a great guy, despite what others think of him."
Their eyes met again, and House found he couldn't look away. "Really." He said again, this time without the venom from before.
"Really."
This time when she reached out, he hesitated before taking her hand in his. "I…I'm sorry." He whispered finally, ashamed at the hoarseness of his voice.
"For what?" She seemed genuinely confused.
"For..." He closed his eyes and looked away. "For getting you shot."
"House, it wasn't your fault." Her incredulous tone brought his eyes back to hers.
"How can you say that? If it wasn't for me being such a bastard…"
She held up a hand. "Wait, wait, wait. House, you didn't shoot me. That jerk-off did. If he was mad at you, that his fucking problem!" Anger flashed in her eyes as she spoke, her voice climbing in volume. "Believe me, if it was your fault, I'd let you know."
"Cameron, shh. Don't yell" House winced, not wanting to bring any unwanted visitors into her room.
"Don't yell?" She dropped her volume, but kept the harshness of her tone. "Don't tell me not to yell, House, when I'm sure that's all you've been doing to yourself the past few hours. Is that what you've been doing? Blaming yourself for the accident? He wouldn't have shot me if I hadn't raised my hand when he asked if one of us was you. I don't want you to be anything other than the sardonic bastard you are, because if you weren't, I'd be worried."
House just sat through her admonishing him and at the end of her tirade leaned over a kissed her cheek. "Thank-you."
She looked stunned from both the kiss and the gratitude. "You're welcome?"
"For not hating me." He clarified with a half grin. "Don't worry, it won't happen again." His pager suddenly went off and both of them frowned. "It's Cuddy. We probably have a case. Oh, I brought your bag down."
"Oh. Thanks." A small frown creased in her forehead.
"You're welcome, and no." House shook his finger at her. "You are not going to even think about leaving this bed for at least another two days. If we need your opinion, I will call you. You now have your pager and your cell phone, as well as your laptop. I can get a hold of you very easily."
She slumped down and sighed. "Okay."
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "I know you hate feeling useless. Don't worry, I'll call you and we'll put you on speaker so you can hear all of us."
"Thanks."
He could hear the gratefulness in her voice and it made him feel a bit strange inside. "I'll, uh, see you later then."
"Okay. Oh, and thanks for the soup, House."
"You're welcome. Now get some rest. I want my immunologist back soon." He stood and walked to the door. "Nighty night, Dr. Cameron." He teased in a childish voice.
"Nighty night? Its only noon."
"I know." And with that, he was gone.
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AN: Woot! And here ends chapter three. How do you guys like the story? Reviews are a must have! House is a little more OOC again. Hmm…sorry!