WARNINGS: major character death; season six spoilers; addiction; sex; violence
NOTES: Happy Valentine's Day, in advance! Also, you might want to check out my profile, since I do update it from time to time.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Cuddy takes two steps across the threshold of the room and stops again, crossing her arms. Chase can feel the tension in Cameron's body shift against his; she'd been starting to relax at last, but now every muscle is taut again, poised as if to ward off a physical attack. His own heart is pounding, chest tight with the familiar feeling of an oncoming panic attack. Trying to swallow it back down, Chase realizes that his fear in this moment is not the result of Cuddy's presence, but out of concern for how upset it's already made Cameron. He'd begun to feel better after his own initial panic, confident this would turn out to be more of a minor setback than a full blown catastrophe. But he knows Cameron needs to find a way to relax and rest, or risk having the baby in further danger.
"You're pregnant," says Cuddy, when a minute has passed and no one has said anything. It isn't a question. She must have been told, Chase knows, would have looked up all of Cameron's medical records instantly upon being tipped off. He's never questioned Cameron's decision to receive prenatal care at PPTH; he doesn't feel deserving of that kind of responsibility yet, even in his own child's life. Now he wonders whether he's made a mistake, let her set herself up for professional disaster, though logically he knows everyone would have found out eventually.
Cameron simply nods after a moment, still seeming too stunned to really respond. Feeling helpless, Chase finds her hand under the covers and squeezes gently, keeping his arm around her waist. He feels overwhelmingly protective, but at the same time afraid to assert himself on her behalf, afraid he'll simply make things worse.
"How far along are you?" Cuddy asks sharply, still not acknowledging Chase. She takes a few steps closer, and Cameron tenses again, breathing shallowly and too fast.
"Almost three months," says Cameron quietly, sounding like she might cry. "Which I assume you knew. You must have read my file. Were you just asking to see if I'd lie to you?"
"I don't really think you're in any position to be making that kind of an accusation," says Cuddy coldly. Chase doesn't think he's seen her this angry in years, not since House got sick, lost his sense of brash rebellion. "When were you planning to tell me?"
"I don't know," Cameron admits. "I hadn't gotten that far yet."
"So you were going to conceal your pregnancy from me indefinitely? Just—wait until I noticed on my own?" The words sound harsher coming from Cuddy's mouth, and Chase feels a surge of anger toward her for making this day even more difficult, for lacking the empathy to put disappointment aside in favor of compassion. He knows she is simply doing her job, has every right to be angry given the situation, yet all he feels is outrage on behalf of the woman and child he doesn't yet dare call family.
"I don't know!" Cameron repeats, looking down at the edge of the blanket she's twisting in her free hand.
"I take it this wasn't a planned pregnancy?" Cuddy presses, unmoved.
"Of course not!" Cameron answers, too quickly, and Chase flinches despite himself. He knows he has no right to resent the speed or strength of her response; it's been months and he's still in no position to consider himself a worthy parent. Moreover he knows how much Cameron cares about their baby, has seen it directly in her panic today. Yet he can't shake the feeling that she must still view his involvement as an accident, a less-than-pleasant means to a fortuitous end. If she loses this baby there is no second chance, he knows, is nothing but another separation which now seems impossibly more painful than the first, though neither of them has committed to anyone but their child.
"You swore to me that your relationship with Chase was completely professional," Cuddy continues, as though she's unaware of how much damage she's doing, or simply doesn't care at the moment. "You've told me that a hundred times! The Board has been breathing down my neck to shut down the Diagnostics department since before House died. I've kept it open because you convinced me that under your management, your team could be effective. I agreed when you recommended I let Chase come back to work, because I trusted your professional judgment. I assumed you were smart enough not to put your career and mine at risk by lying about the nature of your relationship when you told me the two of you were not back together. And now I find out, not even directly from you, that you're pregnant with your employee's child. How can I know that you haven't simply been acting out of your own self interest this entire time? I ought to shut the entire department down right now."
"That's ridiculous!" Chase interrupts at last, too angry to stay silent any longer. "I would think that as dean of medicine, you'd be better at getting the details before jumping to conclusions. Not to mention having professional consideration for an employee who is currently a patient at your hospital."
"Robert," Cameron says quietly, drawing him out of his blind anger and back into the moment, then backwards into memory again as Chase remembers suddenly Dibala's hand on her arm, the fury that moment had awakened in him to forever change their lives."Don't."
Cuddy simply stares at him for a moment, looking taken aback. "Fine. Enlighten me."
"We're not together," Chase says firmly, though he still doesn't move away from Cameron. He's aware this image won't help his case, but he can still feel her shoulders shaking and at the moment that matters a thousand times more than whether or not Cuddy believes him. "We're friends. I've—made a lot of bad decisions. Which you know. Cameron saved my life."
"That's very sweet," says Cuddy, her tone marginally less accusing, but still filled with anger and distrust. "You still both lied to me."
"You have no precedent for shutting down the department," Chase continues, forcing himself to stay calm enough to reason. "Say whatever you want, I was here. I talked to House in the months when he was sick. I know you and he were together in secret then. Not to mention your relationship in the years before. Everyone knows about that. And besides that—We're a good team. We all have a completely professional relationship at work. That's the truth. We're taking more cases per week now than the department ever did under House's leadership. Our paperwork and clinic hours are all in order. You put Cameron in charge because you thought she could manage us, and she has. Even when I didn't want anything to do with it. If you want to punish someone, fine. Fire me. But don't shut the department down. That's not fair to Foreman. He has a family too. And it's not fair to the patients who need our help."
Cuddy studies him for another interminable moment, as though she can't decide what to make of the way things have changed in her hospital over the past four months, then nods curtly. "I'll expect your department's productivity to continue at its present standard. If not improve."
"We can do that," Chase says tightly, already mentally preparing himself to begin working overtime again if it will mean less stress for Cameron.
"I'll look forward to it," says Cuddy, then turns back to Cameron. "Take whatever time off your doctor instructs. I'm not condoning your decisions, but you have the responsibility of being safe, for your baby's sake." Not giving Cameron a chance to answer, Cuddy turns and leaves.
Cameron exhales shakily, leaning heavily against Chase's side, and he's suddenly acutely aware that his arm is still wrapped around her waist, his body pressed against the length of hers. In her earlier panic he'd reacted instinctively, hadn't had the time to second guess himself or pay attention to anything besides her fear. Now he realizes how familiar this feels, being in bed with her, even under such radically different circumstances. The thought sends a thrill of anxiety through him; these feelings keep asserting themselves, creeping up on him when he least expects it, despite his best attempts to maintain some measure of distance between them. If he's honest with himself, he's already begun to trust her. The fear of losing her again is still ever-present in his mind, though he no longer resents her. Still, it feels impossible that he might ever deserve to be happy again, ever be capable of being anything other than a burden in her life, an addition to the stressors which now have put their baby in danger. She deserves better than he will ever be able to give her, he realizes, and he thinks again of House and Stacy.
"Thank you," Cameron says quietly, the warmth of her breath brushing his cheek.
"Why?" asks Chase, feeling certain that they would never be in this awful position were it not for his presence in her life. She wants this baby more than anything, he knows, yet he can't shake the thought that she ought to be doing this with someone else, someone who could be the true partner she needs. Cuddy's anger and disapproval seem undeniable confirmation.
"You're pregnant?" Foreman is in the room before Cameron has had a chance to answer, and Chase jumps, surprised. He supposes he ought to have expected this; now that the secret is out, it's sure to spread through the hospital like wildfire.
"Go away," says Chase, exhausted suddenly from the morning's adrenaline, and even more concerned about Cameron's ability to relax.
Foreman pulls the chair up to Cameron's side of the bed and sits. "So when you said you didn't do anything to her..."
"Sorry," Chase says dryly, seeing immediately where Foreman is going with this. It's frustrating, but a relief after Cuddy's anger. "Didn't realize sex was included in your list of possibilities."
"I'm right here," says Cameron, looking disgusted, but she sounds noticeably calmer. They are both used to Foreman's constant ornery judgment. It's more familiar than anything else, almost a comfort.
"What are you going to do?" asks Foreman, leaning back in his chair a little.
"I'm having the baby," says Cameron, then seems to remember where she is, face falling. "I mean, assuming—I'm still waiting on bloodwork. But so far—"
"You'll be fine," says Foreman confidently.
"You can't know that," says Cameron, biting her lip.
Foreman sighs, looking at his hands for an uncharacteristically hesitant moment, then back up again. "I can. I looked at your file."
"Great," says Cameron, though she sounds more frustrated than truly angry. "Maybe we could post my chart on the bulletin board in the atrium."
"We could do that," says Foreman. "Then the whole hospital would know that your bloodwork is normal."
"You saw it?" Chase sits up, suddenly filled with a fresh wave of adrenaline.
Foreman nods. "They'll probably still keep you overnight to make sure your BP comes down."
"Which it's not going to if everyone keeps harassing her," Chase says sourly, but he's filled with relief at the news.
Cameron covers her face with her hands, exhaling with effort, and Chase lays a hand against her back, wondering whether she's crying. "Thank you, Foreman," she manages after a moment, still not looking up.
"I guess I should say congratulations," says Foreman.
"You should," says Chase, suddenly resenting the fact that they are being judged for this, that no one else regards Cameron's pregnancy as the miracle he does.
"Congratulations," Foreman deadpans.
"How's the patient?" asks Cameron, seeming eager to turn the conversation away from herself now.
"Crashed again right after Chase left," says Foreman, turning much more serious again. "Bled out another two units for no apparent reason, and was unable to clot on her own. She's being given another transfusion now. I think we're looking at a bleeding disorder."
"Or something compromising her ability to clot," says Chase, frowning. Suddenly he remembers their argument about the patient's ex-husband and his accusations.
"Like a bleeding disorder?" Foreman mocks.
"Or a toxin," says Cameron, surprising Chase by voicing his thoughts before he's managed to. "You didn't think this fit with a suicide attempt. Are you suggesting the ex-husband might be poisoning her?"
"I think it's an awfully big coincidence that he accused her of taking something, and now her symptoms fit the ingestion of some kind of poison," says Chase carefully. "But I didn't find anything in the tox screen. If we can't talk to the patient, I think someone needs to talk to the ex-husband."
Foreman sighs and nods, getting up. "I guess that would be me."
"You should go too," says Cameron, surprising Chase.
"You don't want me here?" he asks reflexively, without realizing exactly what he's said.
"Of course I want you here," says Cameron, softening. "But I'll be okay for a few hours. Our patient could bleed out anytime if we don't figure out what's wrong. Go do your job for a while."
Chase takes a breath and nods, slipping back into his shoes and getting to his feet. "I'll see you later. Get some sleep."
She nods, and Chase starts to follow Foreman before turning back and lightly kissing Cameron's forehead.
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