OBLIVION
Summary: House tries to survive, while trying to keep his relationship with Cameron from dying out. Please R&R!!!
Rating: M
Notes to Note: Cameron/House. Definitely LOST/House crossover. Character deaths.
Disclaimer: I own none of Bleach's lyrics...yet.
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CHAPTER NINE - treatment
"Blastomycosis. The way I see it, she has something similar to ARDS and myalgia, and those patients would have a 68 chance of dying. That's why it is not blastomycosis."
"It's blastomycosis." Jack and Wilson, who was now sporting a bloody nose, said in unison.
House shifted his weight noticeably, then replied, "You don't even have the treatment for it."
"Amphotericin B." Jack said. "It's the treatment of choice."
"Shouldn't you be watching Sawyer?" House asked Jack, glancing into the bedroom, where Sawyer lay on the bottom bunk, in a deep slumber, with Cameron on the top bunk. Kate was sitting next to the bed.
"Kate's watching him." Jack replied.
House's eyebrows went up. "Jimmy, shouldn't you be watching Kate?"
Wilson rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Don't change the subject, Gregg."
"The point is that we know the illness, we know and have the treatment, but you're too stubborn to heal your goddamn girlfriend!" Jack said, harshly.
House turned to the wall, back facing them, and stood quietly, staring at what he'd wrote on the wall for the past days.
"I mean, House, what else can it be?" Jack continued.
House stared at the wall, nibbling on his lower lip, the said, "Tuberculosis."
"What?" Jack and Wilson asked, incredulously.
"TB. Is it that hard to believe? What's the treatment?" House asked, turning back around, his cane in his hand.
Jack looked over the symptoms and said, "Wait, no, that's smart. And helpful."
"What?" Wilson asked. "You seriously believe this? He's just covering his own ass-"
"No, he just correctly diagnosed Cameron." Jack interrupted. He turned and walked to the medicine locker, opened it, and looked for a certain pill bottle.
"What are you getting, Jack?" House asked, walking to him.
"The medicine to save your lover. Amphotericin B." Jack replied, showing House the bottle.
"No-"
Wilson grabbed Jack's pistol from his belt and said, "I'm not gonna let you kill the best thing that ever happened to you!" He swung the pistol, holding it by the barrel, and hit House on the back of the head. House fell back against the stool that Jack had been sitting in, knocking that over, and hit the opposing wall hard, his head smacking into the wall.
Jack stared at Wilson, dumbfounded. "The safety was off." Jack said. "You could have killed him."
"I couldn't have done that to Cameron." Wilson said. "He's a coward, and a jerk, and an ass, but she loves him."
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"This is going to cure me?" Cameron asked, carefully watching Wilson.
"I certainly hope so." Wilson said, filling a syringe with Amphotericin B.
"So it was blastomycosis?" she said.
Wilson paused, and Jack looked at him, smirking.
"It was!" she said. "I was right. House didn't believe me."
"Yep." Jack muttered.
"How did you diagnose me?" she asked.
"House suggested TB." Jack said. "He had already suggested pneumonia, influenza, and ARDS, and it hit me. Blastomycosis can appears as those illnesses."
Cameron nodded, smiling to herself, then winced as Wilson stuck the syringe in her arm. "Where is Gregg?" she asked in a small voice.
Jack chuckled and said, "Wilson hit him with my .45."
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Something tickled his face. House opened his eyes to see Cameron's hair draped over the pillow and his face. He blew it off and rubbed his eyes, yawning. Then it hit him: pain. He rubbed his leg, which felt like it was on fire. He reached over to his night stand, to find it empty. He swore under his breath and slowly turned away from Cameron, careful not to disturb her. He swung his good leg over the edge of the bed to find that his cane wasn't there. He swore again and swung his bum leg over the side, then sat up. He stood shakily and hobbled to the living room, where he discovered his cane lying on the couch, and his vicoden on the table in the kitchen. He limped to the kitchen and snatched his bottle up, fumbling with the safety lock on it, and flipped it off. He spilled two pills into his hand and lifted it to his mouth, just as he saw Cameron standing four feet from him, wearing his shirt, and her panties.
"Good morning." he said, and dumped the vicoden into his mouth and swallowed.
She walked over to the couch and sat down, her disheveled hair spilling on to the couch as she slumped down. "That...was the most exciting and tiring night I've had in a long time." she said slowly.
House limped to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out two beers. He limped to the couch and handed one bottle to her.
"It'll wake you up," he said, then sat down next to her. She popped the cap off and took a sip of it. House did the same.
"What do we do?" she said after another swig of the beer.
"I dunno" he said. "We'll probably stop at Hardy's or McDonald's or...Wal-Mart-"
"About last night."
"Oh."
They looked at each other, their eyes connecting, silently communicating their own emotions.
"It was too early." Cameron said.
"Alison..."
"No, Gregg, listen. It's too early for me. You know it, I know it... If what happened tonight didn't happen, we would never have done this."
House looked away from her and at the TV, which was off.
"House, there's gonna be questions, cops, a trial, accusations... Dammit, Gregg!" she said, sipping the bottle.
"I'll drive you back to get your car, we'll go to work, and I'll admit myself into the clinic." House said.
"You can go by your home and change."
He looked over at her and said slowly, "This never happened."
"This never happened." she repeated.
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Simulated light flooded in through the mock blinds next to the bunk bed where Cameron was slowly waking up. She turned away from the light and saw House in her eyes.
"How do you feel?" House asked in a gruff voice.
She groaned.
"Oh, that's good." he muttered.
"I do feel better." Cameron said, "I'm just tired and sore, though."
"You were right, I was wrong." House admitted. "I was too hardheaded to believe you."
"You were being yourself." she said.
"My emotions clouded my visions; directed my path away from your diagnosis and got you sicker. I'm a bad boyfriend." he said quietly.
"Gregg, you are a wonderful lover. You don't have any regrets to tell me about." she said. "I love you."
House took her hand in his and squeezed gently. "Thank you." he said. "I need to go. Somebody sneezed on the little island baby, Aaron, and Claire wanted me to check him out."
"Lucky you." Cameron said, grinning.
"I love you." he said, leaning over and kissing her softly on the lips.
"I love you." she replied.
"I'll check on you later."
He left.
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Stop what you're doing And what're you gonna say when you're alone
I don't think it's becoming of you
To treat your friends like that
And all you've been sayingMan it's driving me right up the wall
I don't think I'm down with that
And where are gonna turn when there ain't nowhere left to go
Well I think
This is a condition
That you're living in
You've been living in
And this is a condition
That you're living in
And you won't win so
Turn it off and start it up again
Start it up again...
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"He's fine, Claire." House said slowly. "Fine."
"But, couldn't it be meningitis or something?" Claire asked, adjusting Aaron in her arms, while he cooed happily.
"He's not even sick! His nose is not red and runny. His forehead is not hot. His testicles are certainly not shrunken." House said. "You are being an idiot."
"House." said Zak O'Brian, another man who needed a cane to walk from flight 815. He had stopped behind House and jabbed him with his cane.
House glanced up and said, "I'm working."
"Come with me." Zak said. "Now." He limped closer to House.
"If you put it that way, Mommy." House said in a whiney voice.
Zak whacked House's shin with his cane, which was jet black, except for some drops of blood. "Follow me."
"How could his testicles shrink?" Claire asked as they left.
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It takes a sea of change
That I cannot explain
I can't wait for it to come
Cause you'll just end up numb to it
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tbc
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the OTHER imposter
a DEAD.END.MOON production
SEVEN DAYS
It was raining.
Funny thing, rain. It seemed to so perfectly mirror her demeanor. The rain dribbled down the hood she was wearing and down onto her black shirt, which was mostly covered by another darker hooded jacket. She glanced down at the ground, at the soggy, loose piece of land, then back up again, tears clouding her vison. From the corner of her eye, she saw the remaining members of the team, her eyes lingering on the man that was limping, who was gripping the cane tightly with each painful step. She looked back down to the ground, at the tombstone.
Alison Cameron was in a graveyard.
FLAS H
"Who is he, House?"
FLAS H
"He arrived in Iraq and dropped of the face of the Earth."
FLAS H
"A ghost."
FLAS H
"I could have killed him!"
FLAS H
"He's loosing too much blood!"
FLAS H
"Sweet Jesus."
Coming soon...
HE'S NOT WHO HE SEEMS.
