A/N: Teehee! Thank you everyone! I'm on Spring Break hence the quick updates! I've noticed that I've sort of lost a bit of House's personality, I'll try to fix that!
"All right, so what have we got now?"
"Another patient," Foreman said as he clicked his pen repeatedly in a nervous fashion, "Jennifer Corbin..."
"Who?" House asked.
"Jennifer Corbin," Foreman repeated, "Daughter of Gloria Corbin..."
"Who?"
"The woman we're treating for Wegener's..." Foreman said.
"Treatment isn't working..." Cameron said.
"And now her daughters got whatever she has." Chase finished.
"Oh, the short one." House said as a lightbulb went off in his head.
"She's not that short," Cameron protested, "Five-four and a half isn't that short."
"She's short for someone her age." House replied as he pulled out his Vicodin and threw a pill into the air, catching it in his mouth.
"Okay, her height isn't the issue here!" Foreman snapped, "Mother and daughter are sick, daughter is presenting stronger symptoms of the mother, neither is responding to the prednisone or cyclophosphamide."
"So what does that tell you?"
"Chase was wrong." Foreman said, "And not me, that's a good feeling."
"The only reason you weren't wrong is because you didn't have any clue what it could be." Chase said angrily.
"It's an infection of some kind, it has to be." Cameron said swiftly, "With those symptoms, something in their lungs?"
"Something in their environment." House replied as he tapped his cane slowly on the ground and stared at the whiteboard. "Foreman, Cameron, go break into the Corbin house, that shouldn't pose much of a task for Foreman. Check both the mother and daughters rooms for living things, if you look at you and it looks back, the chances are it probably shouldn't be there. I'm ordering an x-ray of the mothers lungs, if the kid becomes stable then CT her."
There was a long pause while the doctors exchanged rather nervous glances, House only rolled his eyes, "Well what are you waiting for? Go! Vamoose! Scat!"
Foreman and Chase were quickest to leave as House collapsed onto a chair and stared at the whiteboard, a red pen in hand. Cameron held back for a moment, trying to decide whether or not it would be worth it to mention her fears of abuse. He would probably just brush it off as always.
"Doctor House?"
"Yes, I know, abuse, bla bla bla. You've made your stand on the situation perfectly clear..."
"You don't get it, do you?" Cameron asked sharply, "Why is it every time we get any normal case you refuse to talk to the patient because you're convinced he or she will lie to you, but when you get a case like this, when the patient is obviously lying, you get closer?"
"You don't know she's lying..." House pointed out.
"So you really believe that she hit the banister?" Cameron asked, slightly bewildered, "I thought you were smarter than that."
"See, that's where you're wrong." House looked up at the young woman, "A, I don't believe she hit the banister, In fact, I think you're right, she probably is being abused, but when a patient refuses to do something about it, that's when I stop giving a crap. When I know a patient is attempting to do something about their own problems, then I feel more inclined to worry about them. And B, I am smart, you're just confused."
Cameron rolled her eyes, knowing that House obviously knew something she did not, it didn't make any sense for her to fight him or even try to comprehend what he was doing.
"We'll let you know what we find at their place..." She turned on her heel to leave when House pulled out a key chain.
"Catch," He tossed her the key chain and turned back to his whiteboard.
"What..."
"I pinched it from the mothers' bag, it'll save you a lot of trouble."
"Thanks..." Cameron raised her eyebrow in confusion and simply shrugged her shoulders, pocketing the small key chain which had several different keys of all shapes and sizes on it. "You wouldn't know which key actually opens the front door do you?"
"That wouldn't be any fun." House explained, "That would be handing you a solution on a silver platter, where's the fun? The challenge? The adventure?"
"The time used to treat other patients?" Cameron asked with a brow raised, a smirk forming on her lips.
"Yes well, to each his own I suppose." He turned back to the whiteboard, Cameron merely shrugged her shoulders and left the conference room.
House threw the red pen up in the air and caught it, and then repeated the process several more times, each time, making the throw higher and higher until the pen nearly touched the ceiling. There was obviously something more going on, there usually was, nothing made this case any more spectacular or special than the last or the next one to come along, and yet... he was fascinated by it. He was fascinated by a girl that reminded him...of him. The same personality, same bitterness, same lack of communication and the same need to distance herself from the people who tried to draw her close.
The pen went higher and higher, spinning in a whirl of red and white far above House's head. Suddenly he let it fall to the ground, he stared at the whiteboard with curiosity and tried to think back to his last conversation with the girl.
House swiftly leaned over and picked up the pen and took off the cap. He drew a squiggle line underneath of the list of symptoms and wrote in bold letters 'THIRTEEN? WHY?'
"Why thirteen?" He muttered, "She's fifteen..."
"Why me?" Foreman muttered, "Why... me? Every time we have to check someone's house, it's always 'Foreman, you go, you're-"
"If you say black, I'll hit you."
"Well it always is..."
"Are you suggesting," Cameron began to ask as she looked into the vast and disgustingly neat living room in the Corbin residence, "That House hates you because you're black?"
"Damn right." Foreman replied as he looked around, "Good grief, this place is huge. How many live here?"
"Three."
"More like three dozen." Foreman muttered in awe as he looked around. They had to pass through a set of large metal gates (of which both doctors successfully climbed over) and then down a long brick driveway to where the mansion Corbin residence stood. It was built of old red bricks and looked quite classy with green vines growing along the walls. Inside was even more spectacular, there was a high ceiling with a chandelier hanging down, a stair case wound up to a second floor while three hallways on the first proved just how wealthy the Corbin's truly were.
"You'd need a map just to find the kitchen," Cameron murmured as she looked around, "Oh, looks like they have dogs." A picture of two Rottweilers was framed elegantly and sitting on a table by the front door, both dogs looked vicious and unkempt.
"This is like the perfect American home, pleasantville. Something out of Desperate Housewives." Foreman said with a slight disgust in his voice, "Come on, lets find their rooms and pan out from there."
"Doesn't it creep you out a little?" Cameron asked as she began walking up the rather long staircase, "I mean, how clean and neat this place is? Look at it, it's like something out of a real-estate commercial, everything in its place. Human beings don't live in places like this."
"Well, according to House, the mother and daughter are both a little odd."
"You know why the daughter's odd don't you, because she's-..."
"Don't start with the abused thing again, all right? I believe you, I saw that shiner, no way she hit her eye on a banister." Foreman sighed, "But unless there's some magical way you can prove it, we can't do a whole lot."
"Maybe..." Cameron muttered to herself as she came to the top of the stairs with Foreman directly behind her, "Okay, where do you want to start?"
"I'll go left, you go right?"
"Sure thing."
An hour swiftly turned into two hours, Foreman had found Mr and Mrs Corbin's room, it was elegantly dressed up in red satins and gold trim, and it was also perfectly clean. Allison had found no trace of Jenny's room, only several rooms that appeared to be made up for guests. There was no sign of anything that would cause such symptoms. Apart from a little dust, the entire house was clean beyond belief.
"I'm calling House, this is ridiculous." Cameron said bitterly, "There's nothing here."
House was watching General Hospital on his little tv in his office when his phone ringed, he sighed.
'Always during GH...'
"Yeah?"
"It's Allison, listen, there is nothing here."
"Are you in the right house?"
"Yes."
"The key... went into the lock? Because you know, if you try to force it then it probably isn't te right one."
Cameron sighed, "Yes, I know. It's the right house."
"And you found nothing?"
"Nothing." Cameron repeated.
"Not even a couch? Some boxes they sit on? A tv remote? A pair of shoes? Some three week old pasta in the back of the fridge that might be the cause of this?"
"Nothing."
"And what about the girls room?"
"Jenny?"
"Yeah, the short one."
"She's not-.."
"Give me the phone," Foreman snatched it out of Cameron's hand before she could continue arguing with house and prolong their return to the hospital. "We're standing in the middle of the house and there is nothing, it's like Martha Stewart came around and gave the place a good hoovering. It's cleaner than the inside of an OR."
"And what about...what's her face?"
"Jenny?"
"Yes, what about her room?"
"That's where it gets interesting." Foreman said as he spun around once more, as if trying desperately to find something...some sign of a teenage girl's presence in the home, he knew he would not find it. "We can't find her room. It's like she doesn't exist."
"You..Can't find her room?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Are you capable of giving me a more complex answer than just yes?"
"What more do you want? We've checked every room in this house, there is absolutely no sign of her."
"And none of the other many rooms have any sign of her?"
"No."
"Well, that's a nice change from 'yes'. I love a little negativity once and a while."
"She's a teenage girl, her room should be plastered with posters of Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom, all the other rooms are vacant, like they're meant for guests to sleep in."
"Have you tried all the keys?"
"What?"
House sighed, "There were a lot of keys on the chain I gave Cameron, have you tried them in every lock? Every closet door? Maybe you missed something."
"Can I call you back?"
"No, I think I'll just stay on hold." House said with slight humour in his voice, Foreman rolled his eyes and pulled the cell phone away from his ear.
"Have we tried all the closet doors?"
"Yeah, most of them I think." Cameron said.
"What about that one?" Foreman extended a finger toward a door that was underneath the staircase, both doctors had simply brushed it off earlier as a broom closest but now... Allison grasped the door handle and tried to turn it, it was locked. She sighed and pulled out the key chain, carefully, one by one, she began to test the different keys, one of them had to fit.
"Bingo." She smiled as there was a satisfying click in the lock. The door slowly squeaked open, as if it was something from a cheesy old horror movie in which there was a lot of needless blood and gore and bad animation. Cameron gave Foreman a quizzical look, the rest of the house was perfect, why would that one door squeak?
"It leads to the basement." Cameron whispered, "Do you have your flashlight with you?"
Foreman nodded and pulled it out, tossing it to Cameron and then putting the phone back to his ear, "We found the door to the basement, keep holdi... Are you listening to elevator music?"
The music in the background stopped abruptly, "No." House said. "And I'm allowed to try and fit the mood."
"Yeah well if you have old fifties horror, I suggest you put it on."
Immediately the Psycho theme song began to play from the other end of the phone, Foreman could only roll his eyes and follow Cameron down.
The old wooden stairs creaked beneath their feet as they followed the beam of light down into the basement. There was an immediate change in the air, not only did it become musty and damp, but the basement felt wrong... It was...cold.
"Let's find a light switch." Cameron whispered, afraid to raise her voice, as if it would disturb whatever unseen spirit rested there.
The frightening mood was almost immediately tarnished as the Psycho Theme Song became louder, House obviously heard the fear in her voice and turned it up so they could hear through the cell phone.
"Here it is." Foreman flicked a switch and a single bulb overhead spluttered on.
"Oh god..." Cameron whispered, "What is this place?"
"She...lives down here?"
"She's a prisoner here."
The basement was indeed a cold and black place. The floor was plain cement, as were the walls, in one far corner there was a small bed frame, with an old mattress and a thin wool blanket on it. Far too small and certainly too feeble to protect Jenny against the basements frigid air. There was a wastebasket near by which reeked of old vomit, a few books which looked as if they had been found buried underneath three centuries of dirt, lay by the bed. Along the pale grey cement floor, long streaks of blood could be seen, old and fresh, there was nothing else to the dungeon.
It was most certainly Jenny's 'room'.
"Oh my god, oh..." Foreman muttered, "Oh...my...god."
Cameron quickly swallowed her own fear and walked over to the wall which the bed rested against and looked into a vent. With a small smile of relief she took out her tweezers and plucked several microscopic spores from the outlet, and placed them into a plastic bag.
"Found you." She murmured.