- 20 -

"Just as soon as more space was needed in the isolation room, more space became available. One of the Ebola patients died 11 days after admission, and another's symptoms progressed in a form different from those of the prior patients. The health of the third patient continued to decline as well. None of them seemed to be heading for a happy ending."

Allison sat in the back of the isolation room between the beds of House and Joe. It had become very important to her to monitor every change in their conditions, no matter how subtle.

It was no easy feat, though, considering they were both getting sicker by the day. She knew that this was not going to end well for either of them, and she also knew that she would come out of this even more scarred than she already was.

The skin of both men now resembled a clean and rather thin sheet of paper. Allison could see every vessel in their bodies as blood shot through them and out every orifice. It was no pleasant sight for her to see, but the experience was even worse for Joe and House.

House and Joe were at a crucial stage in their illnesses. House had managed to keep his blood in a bit longer than the others, but that didn't stop the blood from escaping in his vomit and diarrhea. It could have been worse, though. It could be coming out of his ears, eyes, nose, mouth, and every hole you could possibly think of! Unfortunately, such was Joe's case. Blood dripped from every orifice and every pore. His organs were failing, and Allison knew that he was on the verge of death.

"Joe," she whispered into his ear lightly. She repeated his name and started shaking his shoulder lightly until he awoke.

Joe's eyes finally opened. He smiled at the lovely sight of Allison Cameron before him. "Ally…."

"Joe," she repeated. "Joe, do you want me to call Father Chase?"

"What are you talking about Ally?" he chuckled. "I'm doing great."

Allison frowned. "No, Joe, you aren't."

"I'm going to get through this, Ally, just watch."

Allison knew he was trying to encourage her (and himself) to hold on longer, but she knew it was a lost cause. "You're fever isn't going down, Joe."

"Don't worry; it will."

"It should be going down by now."

"It's going to go down, Ally." Joe closed his eyes and drifted back into a deep slumber.

Allison sighed again. Even during the death of her husband, Joe had always been the positive one. He had always been the one that said everything would be okay. Looking around the room, Allison wasn't so sure that she believed him anymore. So, she picked up the phone and dialed the number for the hospital clergy office. She knew deep down, Joe really did know that he was dying. She always thought that receiving last rights was a waste of time, but she also knew that Joe believed in them. Right as she finished her call with Chase, a woman knocked on the glass wall. Allison was going to get up to talk to her, but Wilson was already climbing out of his bed. He apparently recognized the woman.

Wilson still wasn't presenting any symptoms, so it was easy for him to wheel his IV over to the wall to talk to the woman. "Stacy, what are you doing here?"

"I… I came to see Greg."

"Stacy, I said I would come get you when he reached the final stage."

Stacy peered over Wilson's shoulder at a sleeping House. She frowned at his horrible appearance. "Please, Jimmy, I really need to talk to him."

Wilson frowned. "Get a nurse to help you with protective gear."

Stacy nodded. "Nurse Wendy is on her way."

Wilson narrowed his eyes. "How did you know I would let you in?"

"I've found that I can be very convincing at times," retorted Stacy with a smirk.

Wilson rolled his eyes and returned to his bed.

Allison had overheard the whole conversation and was recalling the conversation that she'd had with House in his office. This must be his ex-girlfriend. This must be the woman that crippled him and left him because of guilt. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but something inside her made her desperately curious to meet this woman. She stood up from her seat and gently wiped the sweat from House's face with a wash rag as Stacy entered the room in full protective gear.

"Who are you?" asked Stacy in curiosity and in slight accusation. She watched as a woman whom she'd never met in her life washed away the sweat of the man she'd left only days ago.

Allison's heart skipped a beat and she quickly stepped away from the now-awakening House. "I'm just a friend… uh, Allison, I'm Allison."

Stacy nodded. She would have greeted her more properly, but House was opening his eyes. She rushed to his side and brushed her gloved hand across his face. "Oh god, Greg… Greg… you're—."

"Sick?" he finished the sentence for her.

"Greg, I'm so sorry."

House wondered if she was sorry for leaving him or sorry that he was sick. Either way, he didn't really care. Well, he did, but he tried his best not to. It just made it hurt even more. "I'm fine."

Stacy shook her head as tears fell behind her goggles. "No, Greg, you're not."

"I'm going to be okay, Stacy," he said. Sweat dripped from his face.

"Your sweat," she gasped and wiped it with her hands. She looked at her gloves. "It's orange."

Allison quickly jumped up from her seat and looked at the sweat on Stacy's glove. "He's bleeding."

"He's bleeding?" gasped Stacy again. "He's bleeding from his pores?!"

Allison nodded.

Stacy choked on the lump in her throat. "Is… is he going to die?"

Allison's face was blank as she stared at the floor, but her eyes didn't seem focused on any one thing. "His fever is at 104.1. His O2 stats and BP are dropping steadily, and his heart rate is at 92." Allison continued rattling off stats, but it didn't seem to be helping anyone but herself.

Stacy waved her arms to stop Allison from continuing. "What… what does that all mean?"

Wilson watched the encounter, interested by Allison's emotionless response. He interrupted them before Allison could say anything else about House's case. "The virus is progressing, Stacy."

"What does that mean?!" she shouted.

Wilson frowned. "He's going to die."

Stacy sobbed once more, but it was Allison who suddenly shifted from being emotionless to being enraged.

"Don't say that!" she bellowed into the isolation room. "Don't say that… not yet!"

Wilson frowned. "Allison, his fever is still rising." He kept his voice calm and quiet.

"That's okay," reasoned Allison. She tried to make sense of everything in her own mind. "He's going to be okay. He still has a few more days before his fever should start dropping anyways."

"Allison—."

"He has a few more days!" She couldn't lose anyone else. She couldn't. "He's going to be… fine."

Stacy was unsure who to trust now. Wilson had always been direct and honest with her, and this woman seemed to be acting on sheer emotion. Still, she wanted to believe Allison. She wanted to know that Greg would live to see another day. She wanted to know that everything would be alright.

Allison was on the verge of hyperventilating. She needed to sit down, but she didn't have the chance. She dashed across the room as the sound of rapid beeping echoed through the room. "Get her out of here!" She pointed to Stacy and made a dash for Lily's bed.

Lily squirmed in pain as her BP rose. Her face tightened and winced.

"What's wrong with her?!" shouted Mike. He jumped to the side to allow Allison to do whatever necessary. "What's going on?!"

Lily's arms were flailing, and they finally gripped the sheets at her side. Unlike an ordinary child, instinct didn't tell her to curl or point to the pain. She laid flat on her back, squirming from side to side. Her fists turned white as her grip on the sheets tightened.

"She's experiencing abdominal pain," said Allison. "It's a typical symptom."

Mike and Lisa nodded in understanding. They clung onto each other for comfort, trying not to look as their daughter wailed in pain.

House sat up straight in his bed, though, ignoring his own pain as it shot through his leg and stomach. "Not that much pain."

"You can't say how much pain one person feels," stated Allison.

House snorted. "Tell me about it."

Allison rolled her eyes as she hooked Lily up to IV acetaminophen.

"She's autistic," observed Wilson. He already knew it, but he was connecting links in his brain.

"How did you know that?" asked Mike.

Lisa buried her face in Mike's shoulder. "I… told him."

Mike didn't seem upset at all. "What does her autism have anything to do with this?"

"Some autistic patients are more sensitive to pain, some are less sensitive," explained House. "I guess we know which one she is."

Mike frowned. "She's in more pain… because she's autistic?"

"I'm sorry," murmured Allison. "I've put her on Tylenol, but because of her age, I'm reluctant to give her anything too strong."

Lily began to quiet down now, and she rolled over onto her side.

Allison was about to take a seat in her chair, but she was stopped again before she could do so.

"Dr. Cameron?" asked Mike. He lifted the back of his daughter's gown.

Allison looked at him expectantly.

"Is a rash typical of the virus as well?"

No, no it wasn't. She rushed back to Lily's bedside and raised her gown. Lily's back was covered in tiny red spots. It definitely looked like a rash at first glance, but Allison knew otherwise. "It's not a rash."

"Well, then was it?" asked Mike.

Lisa walked over to his side and looked at her daughter's back. "It's purpura."

"Purpura? What's that?"

"She's bleeding into her skin," said Allison.

"She's bleeding into her skin?!" Mike nearly shouted it in surprise.

Allison assumed that Lisa could explain it all to her husband, so she turned around to greet the man who just walked into their isolation room. It was Father Chase, dressed in protection as usual.

"Thank god you're here," she said. "He doesn't have much longer."

Chase nodded. "I can start right now." He held up the Bible in his hands—a Bible that he wouldn't be able to take out of that isolation room for safety reasons.

Just as Chase was about to start, though, the beeping began again. Lisa and Mike immediately looked up at Lily's stat monitor. She was stable.

Allison turned around and rushed to Joe's bedside. He was vomiting the thickest blood that Allison had ever seen. Thankfully, he managed to keep it all in his bowl. They needed clean living conditions more than ever now.

She looked up at his stat monitor. His heart rate was rising, but his BP was plummeting.

"What is it?" asked House, trying to get a better look at the bed next to him. "What's going on?"

"He's going into hypovolemic shock," she replied. Allison looked around for a nurse, an assistant, anybody. "You!" she shouted and pointed at Chase. "You, get over here!"

Chase hurried over to the other side of Joe's bedside. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.

Allison handed him the Ambu Medi-bag. "Just pump it heavily and rapidly."

Chase took the bag from her and put the mask over Joe's mouth. He started squeezing the bag just as Allison had told him to do.

Meanwhile, Allison drenched a sponge in iodine and rubbed it across Joe's neck. She grabbed a scalpel and slit the center of his throat. Allison slid a tube down his throat and completed the tracheotomy. She grabbed the bag from Chase and hooked it onto the tube. Then she handed it back to him. "Keep squeezing."

Chase did as he was told; he was intrigued by every action Allison took.

The beeping continued.

"What's his heart rate?" asked Allison. Her back was turned as she searched through an unfamiliar cabinet.

Chase looked up at the stat monitor, hoping he was reading the right number. "Uh… 106."

"106, 106," Allison repeated the number over and over. "Screw the drugs." She grabbed the defibrillators and charged them. "Charging… clear!"

Chase jumped back in surprise as she shocked Joe in the hopes that his heart rate would go back to normal. He looked at the stat monitor and tried to make sense of the situation. He had a low blood pressure, but a high heart rate. How could that be? "What's going on?"

"His body has lost too much blood," she said. She charged the defibrillators and shocked Joe again. "The brain needs more blood and is telling his heart to beat faster to get that blood to it."

Chase understood. "But there's no blood."

"He needs a transfusion and dialysis and—." She shocked Joe again.

"Allison...," House intervened.

"And he needs—." She charged the defibrillators.

"ALLISON!" House shouted this time, hoping to get her attention.

It worked, too. She turned to face House. "WHAT?!"

House just shook his head. Joe wasn't going to make it. He simply didn't have enough blood left. His organs were failing without the needed oxygen. "It's too late."

"It's not too late!"

Chase stopped squeezing the bag though. He stepped back and bowed his head.

"What are you doing?!" she shouted at him.

"It's too late," repeated House.

"I'm sorry," sighed Chase. "I really am… sorry."

Two tears slid down Allison's face as she returned the defibrillators to their original place. She finally nodded in agreement and called the time of death.

Chase left the Bible on Joe's nightstand and left the room in silence.