A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry it's been such a long time. As per the note that this chapter is replacing, I left this fic on standby due to the airborne pathogen aspect to the story and wanting to be sensitive to current events, but I fear things might take a while to fix themselves, and I hope that continuing at this point isn't seen in poor taste. I have also been SUPER busy as Christmas looms, especially with things up in the air as they are. I don't think I've ever really introduced myself properly (and you may not give one shit, let alone two!) but for anyone that DOES want to know, I've added a little paragraph below to explain my frequent AWOL periods and slow uploads! Ignore or read at your pleasure :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, and reviews would make for an awesome welcome back!
• Why uploads are often slow, AKA, why I sometimes suck, AKA, me: Hi, this is hellishly awkward, but there we go. For anyone that wants to know; hi, I'm Lisey, the one that's been blabbing away for almost 50 chapters now. I LOVE working on this fic, but I know that's not always obvious as this is far from the first time that I've left it hanging for a while. I'm working on quite a few fanfiction stories, although I'm trying to get them tied up so that I can focus on my own writing, but it's a little bit addictive writing characters you know and like. As such, I usually have 3 or 4 fics on the go, so uploads can be a little sporadic and unpredictable depending on which story I feel like writing at the time. I'm also in my final year of studying natural medicine, and a LOT of my time is taken up having internal nervous breakdowns as I attempt to suck the knowledge in my books in through my eyeballs (I have yet to perfect this technique). I'm also an artist in a very POOR attempt to pay for my study and have a place to live (that's a pun, get it?) and with most physical Christmas markets cancelled this year, I'm freaking out and spending most of my time trying to figure out how to sell my shit, and writing has, unfortunately, had to take a bit of a backseat over the last couple of months. I miss it though, so am working on fixing my schedule so I can upload again and at least get Cameron out of the fucking basement XD. I'll do my best, I promise!
If anyone wants to go check out art/ buy calendars etc, the insta account that links you to all 4 of my art pages (yes, 4, I hate myself THAT much) is liseyschokker, just check the bio :) I have a lot of 2021 calendars printed that need a home before January under SpookshowIllustrations, juuuuuust sayin'!
ALSO! I really want to do a Christmas one-shot this year! I've done one every year for the last 5 years for the Once fandom, but I would like to do one for House. Please send me/ comment with any word-prompts you might have, and I'll try get that planned so that it actually happens! :)
Enough from me! x
"What they do?"
Lena whispers nervously, curled up as best as she can beneath the stairs with little concern for the way that she kneels in her own urine. The blonde doubts she's even noticed.
"I don't know."
Cameron replies uneasily, stood with her hands balled in her coat pockets and her vision swimming a little. She knows climbing back up onto the lockers is out of the question, but with dawn light filtering in through the window casting their surroundings into hazy view, she's all too aware that she's going to have to think of something or she'll be discovered the second someone opens the door.
Which it seemed like they were about to do.
Twice.
What's going on up there?
What was that knocking?
Where are they?
She doesn't have an answer for any of the questions racing through her mind and tells herself to simply find some relief in the fact that their captors remain mysteriously absent in spite of the ominous noises coming from outside.
"I don't know."
She repeats, shaking her head, watching as Lena resorts to her dry, weak weeping, and feeling very much inclined to join her. The cotton of her shirt feels sticky against her side and she guesses her earlier graceless descent from the lockers caused some serious damage after all, but she's past the point of being able to feel much more than a heavy, full-body ache.
"They come? They come now?"
Lena frets, digging the nails of her bound hands into her cheeks as her eyes roll back fearfully to show the whites.
It occurs to Cameron that she could at least offer to rid the girl of her restraints; something she hadn't offered to do sooner for fear that she might give herself away, but she no longer sees any way of avoiding the inevitable.
"I think so, I don't know."
She whispers regretfully, struck with the obscure memory of admitting a similar sense of ignorance as a young girl in school, and how awful her lack of knowledge had made her feel.
Much too highly strung, Allison. Boys don't like that.
Mindy's voice now, and she squeezes her eyes shut as she begs insanity to just hold off for a little while longer while taking in a sharp, resolute breath through her nose.
"I don't know what just happened."
She elaborates in a slightly firmer voice, and Lena nods, wiping childishly at her nose with the back of her hand, before imploring of her cell-mate.
"You hide. You hide before, you hide now."
"I can't get to where I was before."
Cameron replies, and when the girl frowns up at her in confusion, she simply shrugs; not wanting to instil further panic, but too exhausted to continue with her charade of having everything under control.
I'm done. I don't have any more answers than you do. Any better ideas than you do. I-
"-There."
Lena interrupts, gesturing towards the corner, and Cameron raises a brow as it would seem that her little friend might just have an idea after all.
"I'll try."
The blonde nods, making her way over to one of the large barrels standing in front of the wall by the shelves of faulty products. She frowns as she gets closer, noting that the top seems to have been nailed down and throws Lena a wary grimace over her shoulder as she feels her doubt come flooding back. Still, she makes an attempt to open the drum, as much to appease the girl as in any hope for success. In all honesty, the idea of concealing herself within a barrel is so ridiculous it would border on comical, were it not for the grotesque wave of fear underlying her efforts.
It's no more or less funny than hunkering down on top of a locker for hours on end.
Fucking hilarious!
She sniffs, her fingers cramping and hands shaking as she strives to pry the top off the barrel; yelping as she loses her grip and driving several splinters deep beneath her nails.
"Ow! Fuck!"
She hisses, inspecting her hand in the gloom and spying fresh blood and a couple of dark slivers beneath the skin.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."
She reiterates as she goes back to yanking at the barrel, aware that tears spill down her cheeks to patter onto the pitted wood, before letting out a victorious gasp as the lid finally gives with a low creak.
Her gasp swiftly becomes a gagging noise, and she slams the lid down immediately and takes a few steps back with her hands going to her face.
"...No, no..."
"What?"
Lena asks, but the blonde simply shakes her head with her palm held tight over her nose and mouth.
"What is?"
The girls sobs, and Cameron staggers over to her and crawls beneath the stairs with her breathing coming hard and fast.
"I don't know... I don't know, but..."
Unable to find further words to explain the stench of decay that had accompanied her opening the barrel, she makes a gesture of surrender and covers her face.
"They find you..."
Lena warns nervously, and Cameron nods, lowering her hands and swiping at her cheeks to track pale skin with grime and blood, and she agrees
"I know."
"You not supposed to be here. You-"
"-I know. I know!"
She sniffs, meeting Lena's uneasy stare with a defeated shrug.
What do I do, though? I've done everything I can think of to do.
Well... Almost.
"Here, let me see your hands."
She beckons, holding up her own to help make her request clear, and Lena complies obediently. Striving to work free the rope binding the girl's wrists, Cameron grits her teeth as her fingers fail to obey her commands and fumble shakily, and she gives up with an irritable expulsion of breath through her nose and digs her keys out of her coat pocket. Sawing at Lena's bonds with the blunt teeth of her house key, she winces apologetically as the girl cringes, but carries on regardless, wondering how much good it will do her.
If you can free her, you both stand more of a chance.
Not much more, but... What else is there to do?
If you free her.
If you can free her.
"I-"
Lena starts, but she falls immediately silent at the sound of a loud crash from above; meeting the blonde's terrified stare with prey-wide eyes before all hell breaks loose.
"House, are you sure?"
Chase asks, earning himself a frown as his long-ago boss reminds him
"It's where I shine, wouldn't you say? Causing a problem and expecting others to jump in and fix it?"
"Oh, so now you'll admit it."
Foreman huffs as he buttons up his coat and leans through the gap in the front seats of House's car."
"Just this once."
The greying doctor agrees, before addressing the others seriously
"Once you get inside, you look everywhere, understood."
"We get it, we-"
"-No, you need to tell me expressly that you understand, or I'm switching with one of you."
"You're the slowest, House."
"Physically, maybe. Mentally, neither of you has a chance. You search everywhere. We all agreed earlier that if Cameron was in there, she would let us know... Well, I didn't hear anything, but I'm still pretty positive that she's inside, so we're going to have to work on the theory that she can't let us know for some reason or other..."
Uneasy silence as the three of them exchange a glance, before Chase reasons gruffly
"We know there's something in there we're not supposed to see."
"And we know this is a stone's throw from where the Martinez girl was picked up."
Foreman adds.
"Not the first girl. Doubtfully the last."
House nods, opening the car door and driving his cane into the snow before turning back to the others and warning gravely
"I don't want anyone else dying on my watch. I don't want any more patients too far gone to save. But most of all, I don't want Cameron taking up space in one of our beds. We're much too busy for that, and she best believe she's going to be covering Clinic for a month after pulling this little stunt. I refuse to allow her such an easy way out of it!"
He lies blatantly, and the others nod, humouring him, before watching House slip from the car and limp up the path towards the building the two old men had retreated to after their decidedly shady exchange.
"Give him five, and we'll go."
Chase mutters, and Foreman grunts in agreement.
"We-"
But he breaks off as a loud buzzing sounds from the driver's side of the car, and they share a frown as they try to locate its source.
"House's cell."
Chase emerges from rooting around in the footwell, holding up the phone that continues to buzz in his hand.
"He must have dropped it."
"Who's calling?"
"Party Pants... I'm guessing Cuddy."
Chase replies after checking the name on the screen.
"Here."
Foreman beckons, taking the cell.
"House said not to talk to anybody or things might go south."
The blond pulls a face.
"So I won't talk to her."
Foreman replies, answering the call and placing the phone on the seat as he opens the car door; leaving it ajar as he makes his way around to Chase's side.
"Come on."
He growls, his heart beating fast in his chest and his palms sweaty.
"Let's check out what it is we're not supposed to see."