Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em. Grr.
Author's Note: To those of you who don't like this story…I'm sorry. Really, I am. But this is mine, not yours. If you don't' like it then don't read it. I plan on writing another fic after this and hopefully my grammar and the ICness will be better.
Now that that's out of the way…on with Chapter 12! Which will be short and probably suck ass.
It had been three days since Cameron had gotten House to leave Chase alone. She just wanted things to go back to normal…or at least as normal as things were for their department.
House had agreed, but only on the condition that Chase switch to either the NICU or ICU. There wasn't an opening yet, but as soon as there was one, he'd agreed to take it. House would have to hire a new fellow to replace him, but he could deal with that…so long as Allison and Jimmy-boy were there to help him with the interviews.
Early the following morning, Friday, around five-thirty, Cameron finds herself laying awake, unable to sleep thanks to the fetus in her womb using her internal organs for soccer or something else. She sighs and closes her eyes as she rubs the bridge of her nose.
"Greg? You awake?" she asks, nudging his side gently.
"No," he mumbles gruffly, one blue eye opening to look at her, taking in the pained look on her face. "Wha's wrong?" he asks, yawning and scrubbing a hand over his scruffy face.
"Someone's using my organs for kickball," she says, then lets out a loud gasp and sits up. House growls softly and moves to sit behind her, pulling her back to his chest. One hand moves to rub her stomach while the other reaches for his orange pill bottle, pulling out two white pills.
After chewing them and getting the bitter taste in his mouth, he pulls the mother of his son closer to him and uses both hands to rub her stomach. It soothed not only the active baby, but Cameron as well. It took nearly fifteen minutes, but the trio finally laid back down and slipped back off to sleep.
Almost an hour later House found himself awake, but he didn't want to leave the bed, much less the apartment. He knew he'd been acting a bit off lately, softer, nicer, maybe even normal. You try being faced with something like this, suddenly having a child with a woman who you'd tried so hard, for her own good, to push away. He'd berated her niceness, told her she only wanted him to fix him, insulted her every chance he could. He had to, though. He had to make her see that she deserved so much better than him. He'd never expected her to try to move on with Chase of all people, though.
Slipping slowly and stealthily from the bed, he goes to the living room and calls Cuddy's cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Cuddy, hey. Look, Cameron's not feeling well. She's having a really bad day and I don't want her alone, so we're taking the day off, okay?" he says, hoping to rush it along and not give her a chance to say no.
"House," she says, and he groans.
"What?"
"I'm proud of you. Of what you're doing. I don't know many people who would step up to the plate like you have. This situation is…well, fucked up, to say the least."
"Tell me about it. I still can't believe Wilson told you. And I really can't believe Cameron doesn't want Chase to suffer more than he has for hurting her like this," he says, stretching out along his leather couch and petting Jack when she curls up in his lap.
"She has her own way of dealing with Chase. I'll see you two Monday."
"Yeah, well…" he says, then frowns, not knowing what else to say. "Whatever. And yes. Monday it is. See you then," he says, then hangs up and leans his head back. "I am so totally whipped," he groans to himself, then actually laughs.
"Who'd have ever thought I'd enjoy it?" he asks, smirking and standing up to go back to bed, limping down the hall.
