A/N: Sorry for leaving you all hanging! I've had some illustration commissions to work on and college has been a bit nuts. But, here we go! I'm not totally sure about this chapter, but I've messed around with it quite a bit now and I'm worried I'm just going to ruin it if I keep playing with it. So, I hope it's just back-to-writing nerves and it reads alright :) Reviews would be lovely.
It's past midnight when House is roused from sleep; remnants of an unpleasant dream dissipating like smoke and leaving him with a frown as he mutters
"Cameron..."
His reason for doing so eludes him as he remembers little of the scenes so recently plaguing his subconscious; only that he had been at the hospital, berating some curious soul down in the clinic, before Cuddy had come to find him to tend to something urgent. Something that must have set his heart pounding the way it does now. He is almost sure that Cameron had been caught up in the chaos, but he can't remember how or why, only that his mind now flickers black to the blood once streaking her bathtub, and he swallows uneasily.
His unease only grows as he takes in his surroundings; glancing at the liquor bottles lined up on the blonde's coffee table, before cataloguing some of the art on her walls. He pushes himself stiffly so that he sits up straight on her sofa, wondering what it is that woke him. A moment later and he has his answer; a knock sounding against the door, and he looks over in that direction before frowning up at the clock in her kitchen.
A frown that deepens considerably at the sound of a key being inserted into the lock.
Who would-
"Shit! You!"
His curiosity is sated, as Chase takes a step back into the hall in surprise.
"Same to you."
House grunts, pushing himself up and limping towards the kitchen as the blond lets himself in and closes the door behind him with a quizzical expression aimed at his former boss.
"I'm sorry... I didn't realise you'd be over here."
Chase murmurs, still stood with his hand on the doorknob as though unsure whether he means to stay. An understandable dilemma it seems, as his attention flickers uneasily towards the blonde's bedroom, and House sighs as he imagines he has some idea what Chase must be thinking.
I suppose it's no longer entirely ludicrous...
No, but that's not something he has any intention of sharing with the wombat, and so he merely raises a brow and enquires gruffly
"What are you doing here?"
"I just... Never mind."
Chase shrugs, seeming almost embarrassed, and for a brief moment House suffers a vague tinge of possessiveness that catches him entirely by surprise, before he analyses the situation a little deeper and deems it doubtful that Chase has come here in hopes of anything that might fuel the curious flame of irritation that has suddenly taken up residence in his gut. Certainly, he considers it especially unlikely that the blond might let himself in without invitation if that were the case; knowing both of his long-ago protégés well and deeming it unlikely behaviour from either party.
Which begs the question of why the wombat appears so sheepish...
"No, go on, sharing is caring."
He insists, and Chase rolls his eyes as he admits reluctantly
"I just wanted to check Cam was okay after earlier. If she's... Busy... Could you let her know I stopped by?"
And now House catches a definite blush as the blond's imagination appears to get the better of him, and he sighs as he fetches a second glass from Cameron's cupboard before beckoning for Chase to take a seat with him on the sofa.
"She's not here."
He informs the blond, and when he receives a puzzled frown in response, he elaborates
"I came for the same reason you did. Something seemed off earlier, and it's not like Cameron to ignore calls... Even from me."
"Especially from you, I'd have said."
Chase rolls his eyes, before catching himself in the act and falling silent with a moody shrug. Considering this thoughtfully, House pours them each a couple of fingers of vodka and remarks quietly
"I'm not so sure that's still the case."
And before Chase can ask him what he might mean, House changes the subject and muses
"I wonder if someone should mention to Cameron that the fact everyone seems to know where she keeps her emergency key might prove problematic one day."
"Huh?"
"Well, no offence, but if you figured out where she keeps it, then-"
"-I have my own key."
Chase interrupts, holding it up pointedly.
"Oh," House frowns, before reasoning pensively, "I would have thought she'd have asked for it back."
"Why-... Oh... No, it wasn't from-... Wasn't from back when we were... You know."
"Messing around."
House replies, catching the stung look that flickers briefly across the blond's face and feeling just a little better for it.
"I've always had a key," Chase continues, ignoring this last comment, "ever since we first started working together."
"Why?"
House frowns; an expression matched by the blond who appears uncertain why this information might seem surprising.
"In case Allie ever needed someone to check in on her place for some reason. Doesn't Wilson have yours?"
"We live together."
"But you haven't always. Before that, he had a key, didn't he? And doesn't Stac-"
"-Why would Cameron give hers to you was more my question."
House interrupts irritably, and Chase shrugs and explains simply
"I guess we just got acquainted quicker than she did with Foreman... Allie doesn't exactly have a whole lot of people close to her other than the people she works with, and back then, that was me, you and Foreman. She has mine too, what's the big deal?"
"No big deal."
House shakes his head, although he can't help but find himself intrigued as he so often is upon stumbling across new information regarding his charges. He is still getting to grips with his new team- cataloguing facts and trivia with every shift- but they have yet to fascinate him as his previous team had.
That fascination was largely biased... Focused on one member in particular...
True- although he'd never admit it- but he supposes his interest had been inclusive of all three of his colleagues; their relationship complex and often strained.
"Have you heard anything?"
Chase interrupts his musing, and he grunts that he would hardly be here if he had, before simply shaking his head. His waspish response has little effect other than to earn him a glower, and he supposes the tension in the air is too thick for his characteristic badgering to seem important.
No, what's important is that she's not here. Cameron's not here, and both myself and the idiot trekked through snow and slush because something about her absence doesn't seem right. We're here because we know something's up, and if turns out we're jumping at shadows- if it turns out she's simply visiting a friend or winding down in a bar somewhere- we'll berate her for not getting in touch; claiming our irritation stems from the nature of the job, but when she rolls her eyes and mutters her apologies as we have each done ourselves countless times in such a scenario, we will each breathe a sigh of relief. We'll give her a hard time and tease her over what she might have been out doing, and we'll do so gladly because we've been worried. We've been concerned. We'll badger her- blame her- for making us come all the way over here, before letting her off; no harm done.
No harm at all.
Just as soon as she shows up...
"I've tried calling her a couple of times... Several times, actually. I was hoping she was just in the shower or something, and when too much time passed for that to seem plausible, I just hoped she'd left her phone on silent."
Chase sighs, and House points out
"She never has it on silent."
"No... I know. But I let myself hope so anyway."
The blond reasons uneasily, and House nods in silent acceptance of the matter. After all, he'd been content to assume Cameron was merely ignoring him for quite some time in spite of it seeming out of character, because it provided a preferable scenario to the one they face now.
"... She's going to be pissed we were fretting like this, you know?... She hates it when any of us get on her case."
Chase muses a little too hopefully, and House shrugs as he shares with similar forced optimism
"Good. I'll be glad to take that up with her when she shows up."
"Yeah. When she shows up... We'll bicker just like old times."
"It's something we've perfected."
"From what I've heard, the two of you have been taking advanced classes recently."
Chase sighs, and he looks a little sheepish when House throws him a hard look; all pretence of casual conversation gone in an instant.
"Foreman's been telling tales?"
House accuses, and the blond gestures that there's some truth in this statement before admitting
"Foreman. Allison... I've heard it from both of them."
"I see. And here I thought the days of Cameron running to her boys to cry about the mean, older kid were a thing of the past."
"She didn't come running... We asked her what was going on with her because she didn't seem herself. Of course, that was before you yelled at her in front of your team-"
"-I didn't yell at her-"
"-According to Foreman, you did."
"Fuck Foreman... What did Cameron say?"
House asks, both curious and apprehensive. He'd honestly presumed that the blonde would wish to keep their recent issues private, and is surprised to hear that she's talked to the others about what's been going on. Something in his expression must have given his misgivings away, as Chase regards him knowingly and continues in a decidedly cold tone
"She said you've been making things difficult for her. She had excuses- she always has excuses when it comes to you- but she seemed less inexplicably convinced by her own imagination than usual, which only serves to beg the question of just how much of an asshole you were really being... My guess, going off her mannerisms the last time we spoke, is that you were being a real bastard."
"Oh, don't hold back or anything."
"That is me holding back!... You two bicker like an old married couple, and mostly the rest of us just drown it out. You make comments about me jumping to her aid- Foreman, too- but in reality, we've all just gotten used to the way you two are, and it's not worth it. I gave up worrying about you being cruel to Allie a long time ago; it was too exhausting knowing I was much more concerned about it than she was, and, as she insisted countless times, it was none of my business... But, what you're doing now isn't right."
Chase warns, and House feels a queer sense of unease as his stomach drops without warning; entirely thrown that Cameron might have shared the actual reasoning for their recent falling out. Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs guardedly
"Oh? What am I doing now, then?"
"I... I don't know," Chase replies honestly, "but I know Cam's... I know she's struggling. She's been over the weird thing she had for you for a long time. At first, we teased her about it, suggesting she was protesting a little too loudly that she was cured of that blip of insanity, but, I know Allie, and this last year I'd more or less come to believe her... Then, I spoke with her the other day and I could tell things had changed, it was just obvious. In the end, I asked her if she was still into you."
"And, what did she say?" House asks, fully aware that his lack of a mocking response says more than he would like it to. The sour look the blond adopts lets him know Chase understands how things stand also, and he sighs. "Given recent events, I think it's better if I know..."
"Events?"
"What did she say?"
"... She said we were right."
"Right? Right about what?"
"Right when we told her a hundred times- a thousand times!- that the two of you would never work."
"I see. How perceptive of you all."
House replies bitterly, and Chase frowns; glancing around the blonde's apartment before addressing his former superior uncertainly.
"Has something actually happened between you two?"
"Oh, you know me, I don't kiss and tell-"
"-House-"
"-I'm sorry, it's just I missed the part where it was any of your business. Cameron's-"
"-A big girl. I know. But she's also my friend; I care about her. I know you think I'm pissed off at the thought of any of this because she and I used to date-"
"-hardly what I'd call it-"
"-I liked her! Call it whatever you want, I liked her. And I still like her. Not in the same way, but I like her as a person, and I don't want her to get hurt. Especially not by you. Again."
"... I don't want her to get hurt, either," House replies finally, and he accepts the narrowing of Chase's eyes as a fair response to this unlikely statement and sighs, "I came over here to talk to her. I should have done it sooner, but I'll admit there's some truth to your perception of me."
"I never said-"
"-You never had to. I understand all too well why you'd be concerned about Cameron falling hopelessly in love with me all over again."
"... Has she?"
"... No. Not so far as I can tell, and I can't say I blame her. Your concerns were justified and I fucked up, as was to be expected... I think Dr Cameron is actually more or less over our rekindling of that ever elusive flame for good if it puts your mind at ease."
"...Then why are you here?"
Chase asks, before raising a brow as House's silence speaks volumes.
Because it turns out I'm not over the dangerous little game we've been playing.
Knowing he can't bring himself to admit such a thing, House provides another version of the truth... A truth that's beginning to give him a headache.
"I told you; I'm here for the same reason you are. I've mocked Cameron for more faults than I can count, but I have never found an opportunity to call her out on being irresponsible. Foolish, maybe. Falsely optimistic; harmfully optimistic. But never irresponsible. In fact, I can recall several occasions where I berated her for being a reliable bore."
"So can I..."
"This isn't like her. I thought at first she was just giving me the silent treatment, but I don't see Cameron committing to such a petty hand for an extended period of time, and I don't think she's got enough game to stay out all night in hopes of letting me stew."
"She'd consider it childish... Actually, she'd probably consider it something you'd do."
Chase sighs, before confiding
"It's still snowing. There's no way Allie would ignore all of us and keep from letting us know she was alright; she'd know that was just plain stupid. She'd also know- I'm fairly sure- that at least one of us would wind up checking in on her. She'd tell us she was alright to keep us from trekking out in such shitty weather like we have done, no matter how pissed off at you she was."
"Which leaves just one alternative; that she's not alright."
House grunts, not appreciating the tightness in his chest as he accepts this possibility, and he strives to shove it aside; pouring himself another shot of vodka from the bottle and gulping it down as he reaches for his phone and presses it to his ear.
"Fuck..."
"What?"
"It's not even ringing anymore; it's just gone straight to voicemail. She's turned it off."
"Or her battery's died. Or she has no service."
Chase reasons.
"None of the above are all too promising."
"No... Well, what do we do? We can't exactly go out looking for her; if she was anywhere we might find her, none of this would be happening."
"And I always said you were the dumb one..."
"What? You disagree?"
"... No. Which only serves to make you more annoying."
"I can live with that. I-"
But Chase trails off at the sound of House's pager buzzing in his pocket.
"...Why aren't you checking it? What if you're needed?"
He asks uneasily as House hesitates. Finally, the greying doctor slips the pager out of his jeans, muttering quietly
"I don't want to be told they've received another girl down in the ER. Not now."
Chase swallows, opening his mouth to reason that the ER staff would recognise one of their own, before closing it again. He doesn't see how this would make things any better, and his conversations with Foreman leave him uncertain whether the identity of a victim of their unknown killer would be immediately obvious. This thought it simply too macabre to bear, and he all but chokes on his desperate query
"So? What is it?"
"A new patient. Vomiting and unexplained petechiae... Male."
House adds on with a pointed glance up at Chase, and the young surgeon lets out a shuddering breath and points to the bottle on the table.
"Come on, I've only had one. I'll drive."
"You're not on the clock."
"No, but you're a body down, and let's face it, it's not like I'm going to get any sleep."
Waking with a start, an involuntary moan escapes the blonde's lips as she jerks in surprise; eliciting shooting pain down stiff limbs that fell far too cold to manage such an onslaught.
"Crap..."
She murmurs, able to see the dim shapes of the shelves surrounding her and their contents as the light in the control office has once more been switched on. Accompanying this dull glow is a clutter of voices; raised and excitable, although she is unable to discern whether the cause is glee or fury.
And then a shriek- female- and a cold finger of fear strokes down her spine from nape to tailbone.
"Oh no..."
She shivers, pushing herself as far back as she can so that she lies curled up on the metal locker with her back pressed against the wall, and she catches the sound of locks being thumbed open before light spills down into the room.
"Get her down there, get- what are you doing?! Get her hands first!"
"Shit, she-"
"Mick, hand me that rope. Little bitch-"
The rest is lost in the sound of a scuffle, and Cameron clenches her hands into fists hard enough to cut a series of shallow half-moons into her palms.
...Mick...?
