A/N: Sorry for the delay...here's Chapter 27! XD
Chapter 27
There's Too Many Bodies, Not Enough Room...
"Greg, stay with me!"
"Cameron!" House hissed through clenched teeth, grabbing her hands, desperately trying to pry them from being constricted around his neck. "Cam..ron...let...GO!" he grunted, his body swaying from a mixture of his cane less, unbalanced stance and a bout of vertigo.
"No, you can't leave me here on my own. We have...to get...the bleeding...to stop!"
"What?" he inquired, his face turning a deep red, then into a darker blue-ish purple color. "Cameron! Can't breathe!"
Cameron let out a sharp cry and her expression fell from hysterically worried to a helpless hurt.
House gasped for air, filling his lungs as quickly as he could. He felt her grip loosen dramatically as her body slouched to the floor, revealing Dr. Richardson, holding the needle Cameron had mistaken as a dagger earlier, in his closed fist.
Before House could nod, sadly yet thankfully, his vision dimmed, until everything went pitch black.
What the heck is that smell?
House's face scrunched in disgust as if he'd come in contact with curdled milk. The scent was strong, burning his throat as it hung before his face in a giant, grotesque cloud.
Not being able to tolerate it any longer, House reluctantly opened his eyes to find his fellow poker posse surrounding him; McDonald sitting at at his right, holding open a jar of what stunk like industrial floor cleaner, underneath House's nose.
Ammonia.
"What are you trying to do, get me higher?" he snapped, pushing it away from his face.
Sharp chuckled. "Are you suggesting that you were high to begin with?"
Feeling the beginning of a headache coming on, House reached into his pocket and pulled out his Vicodin, downing a couple.
"Only when I'm properly medicated." Swallowing, he turned to Smitty.
"How long was I out?"
"Not too long...maybe thirty seconds, give or take a couple," he replied.
He nodded. Remembering Cameron and how her body simply slumped to the floor, he felt a pang of anger hit him. "What the heck did he do to her?"
The three men looked at each other, taken aback by House's angry, misguided blame at the innocent doctor, then lowering thier eyes to the floor, too nervous to look him in the eye with an answer.
"She's...uh..." started Smith.
"Well...last I heard, they...um..." tried Sharp.
McDonald stammered hesitantly when the attention turned to him. "See, the thing about her is..."
House rolled his eyes. "First one to speak up with the right answer will be granted immunity from the wrath of my cane."
All three sets of eyes widened in shock as thier brains scurried to put together a sentance, resulting in them all stammering at once. Carefully, House listened to each one and was able to pick out important phrases to put together.
"Dr. Richardson was behind her..." rambled Sharp.
"...sedated...calm down..." added Smitty.
"...and she's back in the Recovery Ward," said McDonald, pointing to the doors across the hall. Before then, House hadn't noticed that he'd been pulled out into the hallway for the better oxygen flow, but he quickly picked up that they were leaving something out.
Something was being left unsaid. But what?
McDonald stared at the floor apprehensively while the stench of guilt thickly engulfed the occupants of the room. "And?" he demanded.
McDonald's eyes slowly trailed up to House's, apologizing into them before dropping once more.
"They had to...restrain her," he confessed sadly.
Cameron awoke in the bed she fell asleep in; disappointed to find that she was alone, once more.
Mentally, she was no longer tired, so going back to sleep was out of the question. Physically, however, her body felt exhausted; like how she felt the day she started Tae Bo and skipped to the advanced DVD instead of working her way through the beginner and novice ones.
Yawning, she went to lift her hand to cover her mouth, when something caught her wrist and stopped it's journey halfway to her mouth.
It felt like something was weighing them down. No, more like pulling them down.
Glancing below her arm, she was startled to find a chain leading from the bedpost to the cuff wrapped around her wrist.
Restraints.
No, no, no, no, no! Cameron thought to herself, shaking her head. Why am I being restrained? What did they do to me? What are they going to do?
The feeling of not being able to move her limbs, the strange location, and being unaware of what was going on, frightened her. Cameron's monitor picked up as her pulse speed increased and her respiratory rate skyrocketed, sending Cameron into a panic attack.
Nurses, along with Dr. Gentry, ran into the ward, making a bee-line for Cameron's bed, trying thier best to calm her down.
Despite the comotion, a loud angry yell was heard, echoing in from the hall.
"You WHAT?!"
That voice! Cameron mentally exclaimed, I know that voice... Is it House? Yes, it's got to be House!
Cameron's attempted yell for House transformed into a piercing scream from a needle, biting her right in the upper arm.
"You WHAT?!" House roared angrily.
"We're sorry, Doc, but we had no other choice. The commander was worried about the safety of the men onboard," said Smitty, trying to explain.
"No choice? There's ALWAYS another choice!"
"Yeah, it was retrain her or let her kill you. Next time, we'll be on stand by with your coffin ready."
"You expect me to believe that all of the men on this ship are afraid of a little girl?"
"She was choking you!"
He snorted in self-pity. "Who wouldn't, jump at the chance to do that to me, at the drop of a hat?"
"She strangled you unconscious, Doc!"
"I like it rough," he replied, straightfaced.
"I, for one, am terrified!"
"Terrified of what? She's half your weight, height, and testosterone level!"
"Admit it, a couple more seconds and you woulda been sleepin' with the fishes!" McDonald piped up.
"She's a closet dominatrix...I like to be roughhoused by my women," he lied.
The guys rolled their eyes at him. "Right," they said, sarcastically,
"Let me tell you something," he growled, pointing them generally all in the face, "One Allison Cameron is worth more than every man on this ship put together-INCLUDING me and if it came down it, I'd risk my life, along with anyone else's, for hers!"
He paused and waited for acknowledgment before continuing. "And, another thing, Cameron's CARES. She's the Queen of Hearts, with her fluffy, never ending niceness and generosity. She'd take O.J. off the street, even if she knew he did it, and treat him so well, he'd think he died and went to The Ritz Carlton upstairs! "
Sharp cocked his head to the side in confusion. "There's no hotel upstairs...only the flight deck..."
"Do you listen to yourself when you speak?" asked House, looking at him in utter disbelief. "You related to anyone blond and British?"
"Uh, no. Why?" he asked.
"Because you're the village idiot here, and I wanted to ask you if there's some secret Village Idiot Convention that you might've met our local idiot at."
"If there was, you sure as heck wouldn't be allowed in!" his bantering rival said, replayed his last jest back in his head, leaving him confused and embarrassed.
"You also have no poker face which is why you suck so horribly at cards and probably life, as well. When they decide to send you to war, they'll throw you a cap gun and send you to the front lines, in the hopes that you'll be offed first."
"I can see why no one hangs out with you," he replied, lamely.
House ignored his comment and turned deadly serious on them again.
"If anything happens to her-" House warned them.
House's heart-felt speech was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream from the Recovery Ward, and no one had to tell him it was Cameron.
He just knew.
Glaring at the guys, he walked through the door and watched as nurse after nurse attempted to calm Cameron down. With tears running down her cheeks, her head fell against the back of her bed and her body went limp. House walked over to Cameron as the nurses walked away from her, as if there were nothing else they could do for her.
Picking up her chart, he noticed it had been documented that she'd been easily awakened; tossing and turning, due to nightmares throughout the night. They had started before she had the hallucinations and tried to choke him.
He laid it down and stepped toward the railing of her bed. He looked down at her, expecting her to say something caring and pitiful.
Cameron looked up at House with glassy eyes and choked out, "Oh, no!"
His eyes went wide. "What?"
Sobbing, Cameron replied. "I'm in hell, aren't I?"
It took a lot to shock Greg House, but he couldn't deny that her last statement was a stunner. He exaggeratingly looked around. "Huh...it is a little stuffy in here, but it sure doesn't look like the clinic..."
She groaned between burst of tears. "I am! Why else would you be here?"
"Nice to know how you really feel about me, Cameron," he quipped, trying hard to hide his slight grin from her.
She stopped crying. "I'm...I'm not...dead?"
"You sound...disappointed. Sorry to burst your bubble, but no, you're still very much alive. You were close, but no cigar," he said, shaking his head.
She nodded, before saying something that surprised him, once more.
"Go away."
Okay, I wasn't expecting that! he thought.
"No," he replied.
"Please?" she asked, practically begging.
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"You haven't given me any incentive to, even begin to consider, leaving."
"If you stay, they'll see you caring," she snorted. "Wouldn't want to damage your reputation as an insensitive bastard..."
He shrugged. "No one here knows me. It's the people I see everyday, that I steer emotionally clear from. See, if Cuddy or the nurses saw me care, they wouldn't be afraid or offended by me anymore, and that just won't do, because they'd think that, deep down, I'm just a big, fluffy, sarcastic puppy with a drug addiction. Then they'd scold me whenever I'm offensive towards patients, reminding me that they have proof that I cared about someone once and that I should be worried about everyone else, too."
"Heaven forbid," she sniffled. "What about me? We work together..."
He snapped his fingers. "Drat. Well, I guess I'm just going to have to blackmail you to keep your mouth shut."
"You could always bribe me," she suggested, not really interested in the conversation.
He shook his head. "No, then there wouldn't be anything, guaranteed, in it for me."
"Of course, what was I thinking? It's all about you. It's ALWAYS about you, House," she snapped. "Hmm, must be the drugs."
"Or it's just your monthly friend talking. Either way, you're hot when you're angry."
"Go. Away. House!" she said, raising her voice, slightly more irritated than before.
"And, I'll ask you again, why?"
Cameron turned away from him. "Funny, normally when people tell you to get lost, it's because you're being an a-hole. Could I be asking you to leave now, possibly for the fact that, you're acting like an a-hole?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Normally, I'm not strangled by the people who tell me to leave. Sure, they may want to, but being needed to treat their loved ones usually keeps them from acting on those pesky impulsive thoughts. I think you owe me an explanation, at the very least, seeing as how you tried to kill me..."
Cameron's waterworks turned back on. "Save you," she corrected him.
House turned his head, cupping his hand over his ear, making it closer to her mouth. "Excuse me?"
"I was trying to save you!" she repeated.
"From what, the evils of oxygen?" he joked.
"No!" she exclaimed, breaking back down into tears. "Just go," she pleaded with him again, "leave me alone."
"Not until you tell me why."
Defeated, Cameron came clean. "Because every time I look at you, you're perfect. You stand in front of me, in all your glory with your gorgeous blue eyes, but then..." she sniffled, "then your throat gets sliced again and I can't save you from bleeding out!"
I died? Why does everyone want to kill me? he wondered in amazement. "Sliced?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "by that stupid homeless guy."
House switched all of his weight to his left leg and leaned onto her bed railing. "What guy?"
Cameron stared into space. "I should've never walked over to that building...I'm never going near another shiny object ever again!"
Beyond confused and slightly amused, House swallowed a small chuckle and prodded her for more information. "What did he look like?"
"You saw him! You were there! But I had him right where I wanted him-under the fear of his own knife. And I yelled at him, screamedat him, for killing you. If I had known you were going to haunt me for saving you, I woulda let you bleed."
"So, now that I'm alive, I'm no good, so you want me to leave, is that it?"
She scoffed. "Yeah, I'm tired of saving you from dying, so leave," she said, hoping he'd give up the conversation.
"Are you implying that I'm not worth saving more than..." House counted on his fingers, "once?"
She shrugged. "Why bother? You can't die. You're invincible; like Johnny Knoxville."
"But, WAY hotter!" he chimed in, grinning. "Now, I'm sorry, but it's hard for me to be thankful when, in all actuality, you tried to squeeze my windpipe shut," he said, feigning that he was hurt.
She shook her head. "I tried to keep you alive and you still find a way to torture me with it."
Seeing that she wasn't in a joking mood, he turned serious. "Cameron, no one's immortal; not even me. I've been close to death several times, and I was just as freaked out each time. When my nine lives are up, I will die. Everyone dies, it's the one thing besides taxes and being screwed over, that you can always count on out of this sucky think called life."
"Not everyone's life is horrible, House."
"Yeah?" he asked, raising a challenging brow at her. "Name one person whose life doesn't make them feel like committing Harry Carry..."
Cameron thought for a moment. "Donald Trump."
House scrunched, grossed out by the image of the man. "Combover. A bad one that would send anyone over the edge."
"Smiling Bob."
House stifled a laugh. "The Enzyte guy?"
Cameron smiled at his surprise at her unbelievable choice. "What? The man smiles and gets laid all day. Why would he want to die?"
He wrinkled his nose. "Have you seen his "happy partner"? She's as ugly as you are beautiful."
Cameron laughed, earning a reactive smile from House from it.
"Just so there's no confusion, she's hideous looking."
Cameron smiled at his camoflauged compliment.
"Terrifiing, actually. She'd shoot any man's horse. I practically scream when she pops up, in the commercial."
"But he smiles!" she said, playfully defending him.
He snorted. "Well, yeah, but that's from the Botox injections he gets to keep it plastered on his face. That way, she thinks he's happy, but really, he's absolutely miserable."
"If he's so miserable, why are they together then?"
He shrugged. "Who knows. Look at Wilson and his newest soon-to-be ex-wife, Julie. I haven't the slightest clue why they got together in the first place, and yet, he still goes home everynight to get yelled at and accused of cheating on her with that new nurse in Radiology."
Cameron squinted in thought. "Just because Wilson's had more than his fair share of bad marriages, it doesn't make him a manwhore."
"No, sleeping with other women while being married to neruotic and crazy ones, makes him a man whore."
"Okay, well..." Cameron thought. "Me."
"What?"
"My life," she repeated.
"You're miserable," he insisted.
"No I'm not. Why would you say that?"
"Look around, Cameron. You're not happy."
"Well," she said, looking down to her arm, raising it as far as it would go before stopping, "no, not here. Not like this, but that doesn't mean I'm-"
He shook his head. "You're miserable," he restated.
She sighed. "Not enough to kill myself."
He looked at her, feeling a pang of pity for her, lying there so helplessly.
"Maybe other people, but never myself..." she added, jokingly.
He smirked at her. "Well, congratulations, because you almost took out your attending's subordinate."
Cameron's eyes widened in shocking disbelief. "What? You're kidding me..."
A slight chuckle escaped. "In the event that you were to go up against someone trying to kill me again, I'd bet my money on you."
She raised a brow at him. "I don't know if anyone filled you in on the score of the things but, I lost."
He shrugged. "He cheated."
She blushed, grinning slightly as she swung her confined wrist up, trying to cup his face. It fell rapidly into a frown as it was yanked back down before it came into contact with the soft skin of his cheek, guarded with prickly stubble.
He noticed the fall of her happiness and understood it was the lack of freedom she had, being chained to her bed. He cleared his throat. "I'll see what I can do about getting those taken off," he promised her. "Get some sleep; we've got a big day ahead of us once they discharge you."
She nodded and watched as he solemnly walked from her bedside and out into the hallway, before drifting into unconsciousness.
02:25
House had shuffled back to the sleeping quarters.
The men that had failed to explain to him Cameron's "tied down" condition were at his bunk once again, waiting for him to show back up.
"She okay?"
"How is she?"
"Are you alright?"
Their questions irritated him, but deep inside, he appreciated the concern, even if it felt fake as they were part of the enemy that had strapped her down in the first place.
"She's fine," he replied, not wanting to talk about her.
They nodded and retreated from his bunk, telling themselves that he needed to sleep.
House dropped his cane on the floor next to him and laid down on the top of the perfectly made bed.
Staring up at the bars that held the mattress up for the top bunk, he couldn't help but wonder if getting home was going to be easy or harder than they could imagine.
Closing his eyes, his thoughts dissolved away, leaving him to listen to his own breathing before letting sleep take over.
07:30
"Blood pressure is normal; 106 over 55, heart rate is 86, current temperature is 97.4," said Dr. Gentry relaying Cameron's vitals to her assisting nurse.
"Good morning, Dr. Cameron," she said, smiling at her when she noticed she's awaken.
Cameron returned her smile with her own one, weak, but existent.
"We're going to give you a once over, then see about getting you freed from these," she said, tugging on one of her leather bindings.
She pulled out a pen light and shined it into Cameron's eyes. "How are you feeling this morning? Any aches or pains?"
"My neck feels a little stiff," she replied.
Dr. Gentry nodded. "Yes. My colleague was left with no choice but to sedate you, but he feels just awful about it."
Cameron's gaze lowered in embarassment and guilt. "I'm sorry. I must've been quite a hassle."
She laughed. "Well, I'd never fight you, that's for sure. You're pretty tough, there!" She turned to a young woman who approached the bed next to her. "This is Dr. Edwards, she's our ship's resident Psychologist. If you don't mind, do you think you could tell us why you attacked your companion after threatening Dr. Richardson?"
Staring at the wall, she remembered the hallucination like a vivid dream she'd momentarily woken up from. Shaking her head, she explained everything to them; from the the homeless man with the dagger in the street, to the the slicing of House's neck and the grasping of his neck to prevent him from bleeding to death.
Dr. Edwards nodded. "Dr. Cameron, are you and Dr. House intimate?"
Cameron was stunned by her blunt question and taken completely off-guard. "I'm sorry?"
She smiled at her. "Are you and Dr. House currently or previously been in a relationship?"
I wish! Cameron thought, nodding her head, hoping that her blush was invisible. "Uh, no."
"Are there any feelings between the two of you?" she prodded.
Feelings? What's she trying to get at? "What!? I-I-I don't think-" she stuttered.
The women smiled at her. "It's alright, Dr. Cameron. Some scientists believe that hallucinations are based around the person's fears. From personally decoding the one you had, it seems to be based on the uncomfortable worry of being in an unfamiliar place, and the fear of loosing someone who's both familiar and close. You thought you were loosing him so you did what you could to keep him from dying."
Cameron nodded.
"Although," she said, grinning slightly mischeviously, "the fact that you called Dr. House by his first name, seems to indicate a more intimate level of emotions directed towards him, specifically."
Cameron blushed, yet said nothing, not trusting herself to keep from saying something incriminating.
"Well, anyway, you seem to be aware of your surroundings, and your vitals are looking good. I'm willing to be that they'll let you go in no time at all." She turned to Dr. Gentry. "The restraints can be dropped."
Dr. Gentry nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Edwards."
"You're welcome," she said, turning to Cameron. After Dr. Gentry released Cameron from the shackles that held her, Dr. Edwards reached out and shook Cameron's hand. "Thank you, Dr. Cameron. I wish you the best of luck in the future."
Cameron released her hand and thanked her.
"Well, Allison, I'm giving you a clean bill of health. If you'd like to get dressed, they'll be serving breakfast in a few moments. I'll go get your discharge papers filled out and hand them over to you."
"Thank you," she said, rubbing her wrists where she'd been tied as the doctor walked out of the room. Grabbing her bag, she padded into the bathroom to change into clothes that made her feel like a civilian again, instead of a patient.
A shake to the shoulder yanked House from his measly five hours of sleep. He growled, knowing full well that he hadn't gotten his usual eight to nine hours by his new level of tiredness.
"Hey, Doc?"
He opened one eye to find Smitty standing nervously over him. "Do you always wake people so they run on a severe lack of sleep? Think of what I went through today?"
"I was told to let you know that Dr. Cameron's being discharged, after breakfast, this morning."
"It's about time, he grumbled, throwing his legs over the bunk. "Well, since you already rudely woke me up, I might as well get up and eat."
Wincing in pain, he popped a couple of pills and grabbed up his cane, standing to follow Smitty.
"What's for breakfast?"
Smitty thought for a moment. "Uh...eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and hash browns, I think."
House let out a small half-smile. "I love the Navy!."
Smitty led House to the kitchen. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"
"The food," he replied, grinning.
Pushing open the last door on the left, the muffled sounds of someone yelling were heard.
Peaking my head in, I find Hugh sitting on the bed, tied up, unable to move.
A mischievous grin graces my face as I slowly shut the door.
"What's the magic word?" I taunted him.
He mumbles something intelligable.
Removing the gag, I grinned at him. "What was that?"
He gulped, helplessly. "Review?"
(You heard the man, ladies and gentleman! Please share your thoughts!)
