Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I'm really sorry about the long wait. It was a combination of my being in Spain, my tendinitis deciding to come back, and my lack of communication with my beta (there is, after all, a seven hour time difference) that prevented me from posting this chapter sooner. The good news is that chapter 15 is already written and beta'd; I just have to make the changes and then it can be posted too. I promise, on my honor, to have that chapter up by the end of the week. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. Please keep it up!

Information about TB was taken from Wikipedia.

A/N: Melissa, iby.

They reached the clinic in ten minutes.

Cameron hurriedly pushed open the door and brought Sipho to the nearest unoccupied bed. He slid easily off her back and onto the bed, his eyes half-closed and his hands clasped together. Despite his high fever, he was shivering. She willed herself to believe he wouldn't die, but it scared her just to look at him. To avoid watching him shake, she walked away and grabbed some blankets from the supply closet. When she returned, House was holding the thermometer and shaking his head.

"No change?" she asked desperately.

"Not the kind you want." She thought she might have imagined it, but House's blue eyes looked almost concerned. She wrapped the blankets around Sipho and brushed back his bangs from his forehead.

"Allison?" he mumbled without opening his eyes.

Cameron grabbed his hand with her good one and laced her fingers through it. "I'm here," she said.

"I'm dying, aren't I?"

His words felt like a dagger through her heart. Not even twenty minutes ago he had declared he was not dying, that he was too strong to die. Now he sounded like he expected it to come any minute. Cameron saw House move out of the corner of her eye, but he did not speak. Swallowing the lump that had begun to form in her throat, she responded, "No."

"Really?" he asked. His question was not one of hope, but one of almost painfully familiar sarcasm. If she hadn't seen Sipho's mouth form the words, Cameron would have guessed the speaker to be House. "Would you tell me if I were?"

Cameron shook her head, her eyes full of tears. She was grateful Sipho's eyes were still closed; she didn't want him to see her cry. Unwillingly, she looked at House, trying desperately to convey the sense of helplessness she felt, and silently willing him to understand, to care.

He seemed to have received the message. Stepping forward, he said in a low voice, "I would."

She saw Sipho try to smile, but he was hit by a coughing attack instead. She watched in horror as the spasms wracked his frail body. She saw House take another step closer to the bed and wondered vaguely if this was the longest amount of time he had ever spent with a single patient. The attack subsided quickly, but its end did nothing to calm her nerves.

"Nomzamo is here," Cameron said, suddenly remembering that she had seen the teenager an hour earlier. "She's probably done with her session by now. Do you want me to find her?"

"No," Sipho whispered, and Cameron was alarmed at how weak his voice sounded. "I don't want her to see me like this." When she continued to look uncertain, Sipho added, "We said good-bye this morning. She knows that it might happen. I don't want her to be scared." Unexpectedly, she felt him squeeze her hand. "I don't want you to be scared either."

"I'm not scared," Cameron said quickly. But she knew it was a lie. She hadn't felt this helpless since she'd watched her husband die of cancer, and she hadn't even begun med-school then. Now she had the necessary skills to save the patient, if only he could be saved. She did not need her medical degree to remind her that HIV and TB were a fatal combination.

"Bullshit." Cameron whirled around, but she already knew it was House who had spoken. "She's terrified. She always gets attached to things that are about to die."

If the tears had not been flowing hard enough before, they were cascading down her cheeks now. "House," she said angrily, but her anger was hidden by the emotion in her voice. "House," she tried again, and this time, her voice did not betray her, "Sipho is not going to die. We have to do something. There must be some antibiotics here. Go ask one of the nurses."

He shook his head. "Even with antibiotics, he's only got a slim chance. He's HIV-positive; the bacteria have already weakened him too much."

"We have to try!" Cameron exclaimed. "We can't just give up. If you don't want to go, I will." She squeezed Sipho's hand. "I'll be right back, okay?" She squeezed his hand again and then released it. She threw House an angry look as she passed him. As she walked down the hall, Cameron was struck by a horrifying realization – the last shipment of TB medication had been stolen from them. She and Mary had been sent to pick up the shipment, and they had lost it when they were shot at in the woods. She unconsciously rubbed her wrist. Panic gripped her and her heart began to pound. There were still a chance the clinic had TB medication from the previous supply, but the chance was slim, given the number of patients they had seen recently. The next shipment was not due to arrive for another two days at least.

Cameron raced to the medicine cabinet and flung it open. Her eyes scanned the labels for Rifampicin or Isoniazid, but neither label could be found. Refusing to give up, she started pushing bottles aside, hoping against hope that there was a forgotten bottle of one of the TB antibiotics somewhere in the cabinet. She did a double-take when she realized one of the bottles hidden in the back was of Rifampicin. She pulled the bottle out and shook it. The contents barely made a sound. Biting her lip, she unscrewed the cap. She turned the bottle over and dumped the contents into her hand. There were only three pills. Cameron knew it was better than nothing, but it wouldn't be enough to cure him. She dumped the pills back into the bottle and went back to Sipho's bed.

"Rifampicin," she said, holding out the bottle to House. He took it from her and she watched as he held the bottle up to his ear and shook it.

"There can't be more than four pills in here," he told her. "No way that's enough."

"It's better than nothing, isn't it?" she retorted fiercely. She held her hand out for the bottle, but House didn't give it to her. "Come on," she said impatiently. "Give me the pills."

He unscrewed the cap and peered inside the bottle. After a moment, he looked back up. "TB treatment takes six months, and that's the short course. Three pills aren't going to do squat."

"House," she hissed, "don't say that."

"He's circling the drain as it is," House pressed on, though his voice was slightly lowered. "This isn't an allergic reaction that you can solve with an epi-pen. This is TB. It's a bacteria that requires-"

"I know what it is!" she snapped.

To her surprise, House didn't answer her, but instead looked at Sipho. "Did your patient consent to treatment?"

Cameron could have slapped him. "Of course he did, House!" she snapped. "He doesn't want to die now. He wants to grow up and find the cure for AIDS. For the last time, give me the damn pills!"

"No."

She opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't find the words. For it had not been House who had spoken, as she had originally thought, but Sipho. Cameron turned around and looked at him. His eyes were open this time and he was looking at her with an almost pitying expression.

"What did you say?" she whispered in disbelief.

He blinked. "I said…no. No, Allison. I don't want the drugs."

She could feel the tears coming back and she wished Sipho would close his eyes again. "Why not?"

"Give them to someone else," he said in his raspy voice. "It's too late for me. I have HIV. I know I'm going to die. Give them to someone you can save."

She couldn't stop herself; the tears began falling again. "But I can save you, Sipho," she insisted. "I don't want to save someone else, I want to save you."

"I love you." He didn't seem to be listening to her.

Cameron rounded on House, who was watching them with a dispassionate expression on his face. "What did you tell him?" she demanded. "What did you say to him that made him change his mind?"

"Nothing he didn't already know." His tone was maddeningly calm. She slapped him. He flinched, but did not otherwise react.

"I want a real answer!" She didn't care that she had just hit her former boss. All she cared about was buying Sipho more time. He still hadn't answered her. She raised her good hand to hit him again, but he grabbed her wrist.

"I told him that doctors never have enough medicine. I told him that there was a limited amount of time, money, and resources. We can't save everyone. Then you came back. He drew the rest of the conclusions for himself." She felt fury inside her and she struggled to free her hand from him, but he tightened his grip. "Pull yourself together!" he snapped at her. "He's your patient and he's dying. Is this the last thing you want him to hear?"

Her hand went limp, and when House released it, it dropped to her side. She grabbed onto the edge of Sipho's bed for support, no longer caring that he could hear her crying, as she did not have the energy to hold back the tears any longer. The weight of the situation had finally sunk in, the unfairness of it all. Looking at him struggle to breathe, she felt as though her own heart had been ripped out and stomped on. Lost in her despair, she hadn't realized that Sipho was speaking again.

"Allison," he mumbled. She stopped crying abruptly and gulped the tears down her throat. "It's not scary, right? Death isn't scary, it's just like sleeping. Right?"

She fought for composure as she answered, "Right." She hastily brushed the tears from her eyes. "Right, it is. I'm sure of it. And then you'll see your mom again."

"Mama," he muttered. "I miss her."

"You'll see her again soon," Cameron whispered.

He looked at her through half-open eyes. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," she responded sincerely.

He hesitated a moment and then said fiercely, "Leave." Cameron opened her mouth to protest, but Sipho continued, "After I die. Go home. With House. Go back to America with him."

Cameron looked at House and her expression was plain. Did you put him up to this? House shook his head.

"I love you," Sipho said again.

"I know," Cameron replied. "I love you, too."

"Sipho loves you," he repeated. Cameron bit her lip. She knew the delirium was taking over if Sipho had begun talking in third person. "He loves you very much, too. Don't forget to let him love you."

"I won't," she promised.

"He stayed for you," Sipho muttered. "He didn't stay for me, he stayed for you. He loves you. Go back to America with him."

Cameron's eyes narrowed. Sipho hadn't been talking about himself; he had been talking about…House? Cameron glanced at House, but his expression was unreadable. She looked back at Sipho. He was reaching out his hand to her. She took it, and he placed their hands over his heart. He then reached out his other hand to House. Cameron turned to watch her former boss's reaction. To her surprise, he limped forward and took Sipho's hand. Sipho moved their hands over his heart, too, so that Cameron and House's hands were touching.

"Ah," he said, and his voice was so faint, he might have been talking to himself. "Can you feel it, too?" He shuddered.

He died.

A/N: If you kill me, you'll never find out what happens next. If you don't review, you won't find out either!

P.S. I Will Follow You Into the Dark has the next two chapters written. They are sitting in Melissa's inbox to be beta'd as we speak. Expect at least one update of that story later this week.