Breaking Point:

Compound Fracture

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A/N: Reviewers—I would love to have one-on-one discussions with any of you about the story (I quite like talking about my stories and the thoughts and explanations behind them), but to do that you have to leave me a signed review.

In other news, I need a distraction from today's House spoilers, so I'm posting.

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Unnecessary disclaimer: None of the characters appearing in the TV show "House, M. D." belong to me.

Abstract: When House returns from Mayfield, things have changed. What happens when he tries to bring things back into his control? House/Cameron.

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House spent most of the rest of the day holed up in his office with only the occasional interruption from his team. Cuddy couldn't send him to the clinic; he was banned from treating patients until the trial period was up. Normally this would be his dream.

His mood worsened as the day dragged on. He was too busy with self-loathing and self-pity to help his team, who attempted to carry on without him. Eventually they, and the rest of the staff, trickled out of the hospital at the end of the day, leaving scant doctors and nurses to roam the halls. House stayed in his office out of convenience. He could drink there or at home, and he was already at work.

He was on his second glass of scotch when Cameron silently entered the dim office, backlit from the hallway's fluorescent lighting.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" House asked, out of curiosity more than concern.

"I've been released," she said emotionlessly.

"Where's your knight in shining armor? Too busy to take you home?" House questioned sarcastically.

"I'm waiting for him to get out of surgery," she answered robotically.

"Sit down. Wouldn't want you to collapse on me or something. I couldn't catch you." He gestured to the cane. "Cripple."

Cameron remained unresponsive, staring ahead of her at nothing.

"Cameron?" House asked, no trace of sarcasm in his voice. Perhaps for House it should have passed for concern.

He studied her. "I wonder how long it will take you to get it."

"To get what?" she asked, turning towards him. She seemed like a child. House wondered what drugs they had put her on. He sighed. No matter how much he tried to pass it off on others, he was always left with the dirty work.

"Cameron," he said firmly and loudly, walking up to her. He took her face roughly in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Your potential child died today. It happens. Come to terms with it, get over it, and move on."

Her face crumpled and she turned away from him. The sounds of heart wrenching sobs filled the room, her back shaking violently in front of him.

House cringed. "Cameron," he implored, to no avail.

"Cameron," he said more firmly. No reaction. The pitiful sounds reached inside him and wrenched his gut.

Dire actions were called for. House reached out and pulled her to him, in some sort of awkward embrace. She melted into him, drenching his shirt with salty tears and clutching at him as a life raft. Slowly the sobs abated, her tears now silently sliding down her cheeks. Her grip on him loosened.

"Cameron," House said, gentle as a whisper. House lifted her chin with his hand, staring into those stormy blue-gray eyes of hers. They begged him to do something, anything to fix this.

He did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her.

Her reaction wasn't that of shock. She took from him everything he offered, his kind of comfort. Neither had any idea how long the kiss lasted. It could have been a moment or an hour, but it was Cameron who ended it. She pulled away, her face as if she had just awoken from a dream. The fog had lifted; she realized what she had been doing.

Before either could fully comprehend it, Cameron caught sight of someone in the hallway.

Chase looked at her with an expression filled with anger and disgust before walking away.

She shot out into the hall. "Robert!" she called pitifully.

"Don't even talk to me, you whore!" Chase yelled.

House watched the exchange from behind the glass, partially obscured by the shadows.

"Robert, please," she begged him.

"Don't you 'Robert, please' me! What the fuck was that Allison? Our baby dies and you go off and make out with another man? How could you do that to me?" Chase shouted, gaining volume with each word.

At the sound of yelling, Wilson and Cuddy, who had been inside Wilson's office, rushed up behind Cameron, trying to assess what was going on.

"I don't know what it was, Robert! I was in pain and it just… it just happened. I'm so sorry, Robert. Please believe me!" Cameron pleaded, tears running down her face.

"I can't believe you. I can't trust you, Allison! Are you fucking him, too? Was that baby even mine?" he screamed.

"Of course it was," Cameron cried. "How could you think that of me?"

"All I know is I saw you necking with that asshole," Chase said, gesturing towards House's office. "But you know what? You can have him." Chase threw down his wedding ring. "We're over." Chase stormed off down the hallway.

Cameron, as if sleepwalking, stepped over and picked up the ring from the ground.

Wilson, who had been stock still in shock until now, at least had the fortitude to catch Cameron when she fainted on the spot where Chase had stood.

The couple hovered over her, assessing her condition. Cuddy ran off to get help.

Before they took her away, Wilson caught sight of House in the half darkness. Disappointment flitted across his face. But he had no time for House. His attention returned to the unconscious woman in his arms.

House stood, nearly unnoticed, until the bustle in the hallway was long gone.

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