Dafina: OMG, thanks SO much for the info. in regards to blood tests in the hospital! It keeps getting so irritating to have to keep making them go back just to get more blood, and Julia is running out of fingers:P Just because I'm lazy, I'm going to leave the paternity test the way it was, but I'm definitely going to take all of that into consideration in future chapters and stories. Thanks again, I really appreciate the help! (Lord knows, I can use all I can get…)

Okay, you guys, as Dafina very, very kindly pointed out to me, there have been some inconsistencies in my story vs. the real world in regards to blood testing. Sorry for the mistakes, ya'all! If I make anymore blunders like that, please tell me. (Thanks again, Dafina. ) For this chapter, I'm not sure what the protocol would be, because it's a doctor not necessarily working on the case (NOT Wilson) that only needs to run one test. I'm writing it with the assumption that they would draw from a vein just because…Anyways, I can't tell you how glad I am to have captured the attention of such informed, intelligent readers and held it long enough to be allowed to take their advice and constructive criticism to heart. Hope you enjoy chapter eight!

"House," Cameron said the next morning, knocking on his office door with more fire than she'd felt in a long time. Which was strange, in a way, considering she'd gotten about five hours of sleep last night.

"Jesus, Cameron," he said, opening the door for her and allowing her to come in. "This sounds like an emergency. Alright, you've talked me into it. Are you on the pill or should we try a plastic sandwich baggie?"

Her eyes widened. "You're disgusting," she told him angrily. "I'm not in the mood for this."

House held up his hands in defense. "You're the one who came to me. Just remember that."

"Julia's exhibiting new symptoms," she said, paying him no attention. "Last night we came in to say hello –"

"Yes, I heard," he said. "You're gonna make doubles of those pictures for me, right?" Ammunition against Chase; this is excellent! he thought smugly.

Cameron grinned in spite of herself. "Yes. But really, House, this is serious. Julia had literally just finished throwing up when we came in, and right as we were about to leave, she stopped breathing and we had to call a code. Then, once we'd gotten her back, she didn't know why she was in the hospital and what we were doing there."

House narrowed his eyes, thinking. "That's…interesting."

"Not the kind of interesting we were hoping for," she said exasperatedly. "I'm really worried about her, House. All of the tests are coming back negative, and she keeps getting worse. She's got a high fever this morning, that cough is getting worse, and she's lost 3 pounds since she got here. That was yesterday."

"Interesting," House repeated, pursing his lips. What am I going to do? "Get Chase and Foreman in here. We need to brainstorm."

"Okay, girls," House said. Chase and Foreman shot him dirty looks. Cameron just smiled angelically. "Our symptoms are persistent coughing, weight loss, fatigue, memory loss, fever, seizure, pain in swallowing, headaches, shortness of breath, and an instance of coding. What do we think?"

Everyone shrugged.

"Come on," he pressed them. "You're all doctors. You should know this stuff."

Nothing.

"Okay, so am I forced to believe that I'm the only one that cares? This is a person's life we're dealing with. It's not a game."

"It's always been a game before," Chase murmured.

"Excuse me?"

Chase looked up at him, determination burning in his eyes. "House, what's different about this one? What's changed? Before, everything was a game. So what if these people get worse before they get better? So what if we have to watch their families in agony? You'll win, sooner or later. Now…"

"Dr. Chase, I'll thank you not to question my methods of work," House told him sharply. "I know what I'm doing."

"In House we trust," Foreman said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just me taking a cheap shot," Foreman replied. "My apologies."

House turned around and stared at the dry erase board. "Something we haven't considered. There must be something."

"ELISA."

Everyone's head swiveled to the door. "Testing for AIDS. How original, Dr. Cuddy," House said. "No."

"No?" she repeated, stepping into the room. "Why not?"

"It's not possible," he told her. "Julia Peterson does not have AIDS."

"Just do it, House," she said. A demand in guise of a request. "If you don't, I will."

"She doesn't," he seethed, "have AIDS."

Cuddy stepped away from him. "Fine. I believe you. I'll never bring it up again." Fat chance, she thought, walking down the hall. I'm doing this, with or without your help.

"House, you do have to admit it's a possibility," Cameron said gently.

"No, it's not," he said, more to himself than to her. "Her medical history would have listed any sexual activity she could have been participating in. She's young; it's not likely." Not to mention the fact that my daughter would not be foolish enough to sleep around without the proper protection.

"What about drug use?" Cameron persisted. "Sharing needles with an infected person?"

"She's anything but a drug addict," he said, his voice somber. "I'm telling all of you: Julia doesn't have AIDS. That's final."

"Julia Peterson?" Cuddy said, stepping into room 116.

"That's me," she confirmed, sitting up in bed. She had been playing a game of Solitaire and loving every second of it. "How may I help you, Dr. Cuddy?"

"That's usually my line," she smiled, walking over to her. "I'm going to need more blood, I'm afraid."

"Jesus, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you all were a bunch of vampires," Julia laughed. She extended her arm. "Good luck."

Cuddy smiled sympathetically as she cleaned over the vein. "Julia," she began, not knowing how to delicately word the question, Dr. House is convinced you're clean, but I'm not so sure. Is it okay if I test you for AIDS? "I need your permission to run the test I'm going to be running with this blood. I would like to test it for HIV." Noticing the look on Julia's face, she quickly added, "Just to rule it out. I personally think it's highly unlikely that you have the disease, but just to be able to say we made sure."

"That's…fine," Julia stammered. HIV? What am I now, a drug addict? Or a slut?

"Anything you'd like to add to your medical history?" Cuddy continued, feeling braver. "Any recreational drug use or sexual activity that we might need to know about?"

"Nothing," Julia replied, un-recovered from the question about HIV. Do they suspect that there's something I'm not telling them?...It doesn't matter, it couldn't possibly have anything to do with this. It was ages ago, and we've forgotten all about it…

"Thank-you so much," Cuddy told her, walking to the door, her heels clicking on the ground merrily. "We should be able to tell you something within the next few days."

"Alright," Julia said, her patience for that phrase wearing thin. She just wanted to know what was wrong with her.

"You never said I couldn't talk to her about it," Wilson whined. He and House were breaking for lunch, arguing over sandwiches, salad, and sodas. "House, sooner or later, she has to know that I know. And everyone else has to know. And you have to get over the fact that I know, and that she knew before you did, and that everybody else knows…"

"Jesus, Wilson, you're giving me a headache," House complained, spearing a piece of lettuce with his fork. "Didn't your English teachers ever teach you about figurative language? You know, where you substitute one word for another so you don't sound like a broken record?"

"Stop changing the subject," Wilson demanded as he popped open a can of Sprite. "Look, I agreed not to say anything to the others. I won't tell Cuddy, because she'll take you off the case so fast you'll lose your lunch. But don't you think she needs someone to talk to about this? She just met her biological father, for God's sake. Don't you think she has questions about you, things she's too embarrassed to ask you?"

"Why should she be embarrassed?" House wanted to know. "I'm her dad. I'm sweet, right? I thought I was a sweet dad."

"The absolute sweetest," Wilson assured him. "But…I don't know…"

"You want her to feel indebted to you," House predicted. "Wilson, you know, before, I used to be able to stand by and watch you bulldoze over your wife and call it a mistake. But it ends here."

"Why?" he wanted to know.

"I don't think I can stand another crying jag."

Wilson considered this as he nibbled at his tuna-fish-on-white-bread sandwich. "Now you're being selfish."

"Look, Wilson," House said, his patience coming to an end. "Try to keep your hormones in check. I know it's hard for you, but just do it. For me." House stood and carried his trash with him to the garbage can. "See you later."

Dr. House, Wilson thought angrily, taking a swig of Sprite, you don't own me, and you don't own Julia. Sooner or later you've got to realize it.

"I just would really like to see her," Alma Peterson said, her hands shaking. She was a thin woman, 5'1" with brown hair and sad gray eyes. Her Salvation Army second-hand clothing hung sadly from her body, and her hair drooped around the sides of her face as if trying to hide her. Her mouth formed a crescent moon, hanging downward in a frown. Once pretty, she was now tired and forgettable. No jewelry, no make-up, nothing to remember her by but the haunted look in her eyes. "Please?"

"Relationship?" the receptionist asked.

"I'm her mother," she replied softly.

"That's fine." The receptionist put her hand on Alma's, and it took her by surprise. "She's a good girl. We're doing everything we can for her."

"Thank-you," Alma said, adjusting her purse. "Which way to her room?"

"Right there, room 116," the receptionist told her, pointing.

Alma nodded, too worn out to express any gratitude. She had been up for the past two days straight, worrying first for her daughter, then for her husband. Julia did this a lot, run away from home. Frankly, she couldn't blame her. Len treated her so badly, and wouldn't listen when she told him she wasn't feeling well. The third fainting spell was it; Julia just knew she needed help. At the time, Alma had been blinded by the fist her husband had hanging over her eyes and agreed with him that it was just more complaining, but if Julia was in the ICU, certainly there must be something wrong. Then finding out what Len had done – Jesus, that was the last straw. She didn't want to see him again.

Of course, that was what she told herself every time he got arrested. It never rang true.

"Julia?" she said, rapping on the door.

Julia looked up from a book of crossword puzzles and smiled, her eyes confused. "Mom," she said. "Hello."

"I thought I should stop by and see you," Alma said softly, sitting down beside her. "Do they know what's wrong?"

"Nothing yet," Julia told her, and it was clear where they were similar. Julia possessed her father's eyes and wit, and her mother's flowing brown hair and soft, pretty voice. "They keep drawing blood and telling me they'll have a diagnosis soon. They talk but they say nothing!"

Alma let out a short laugh. "It'll be okay, sweetie," she said, brushing Julia's hair back from her face. "Have they been nice to you, other than that?"

"Very nice," Julia said. She wanted to make her mother smile, so she told her all about last night's fun. "I have these doctors that are all working my case simultaneously, one woman and two men. The woman's name is Dr. Cameron, and the men are Drs. Foreman and Chase. They came in last night and gave me a few gifts, just to let me know they were thinking of me. And probably to keep me from constantly bugging them to talk to me. And," she added with a sparkle in her eyes, "Cameron got them to dress up like girls! It was so hysterical, I was laughing so hard I was crying. I'll see if I can get a picture of it for you."

"Sounds fantastic," Alma said, smiling tiredly.

"Mom," Julia said, suddenly sounding stern. "You look too tired. You should go home and…" If she goes home, she'll only drink more. "You should get some sleep," she finished lamely. "There must be a couch or something where they let family members rest while they wait."

"I'm fine," Alma insisted. "I need to be here for you. God knows, I haven't been much in the past 19 years."

Julia felt a lump rising in her throat. "I'm not sure I want to talk about this right now…"

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry," Alma told her. "I know that 19 isn't exactly when you expected me to grow up and start taking care of you for a change, but better late than never, right?"

Julia nodded. "Right." She gave her mother a hug and bit her lip, determined not to cry.

Alma started sobbing the second they touched. Julia rolled her eyes, then grinned guiltily. "I'm so sorry, baby…"

"It's okay, Mom, it's okay," Julia cooed in her ear. It never fails, she thought sadly. I always end up taking care of her, even when she promises things are going to change.

Julia suddenly felt her mother stiffen in her arms and she pulled away. "Mom?" she asked, then followed her gaze to the door.

"Greg?" Alma said.

"Oh, my God," House murmured. "Alma." Was that really her? She didn't look like herself, and yet…who else would be hugging his daughter and crying? He turned to walk away, feeling that he very strongly needed a drink, or at least a Vicodin.

"Dr. House," Julia called. "Please come back. I want you to meet my mother." Her voice sounded strange, almost humorous, like she thought the whole thing was a joke. "You're going to have to someday anyway, and you know it."

The brat has a point, he thought sullenly. House turned back around and walked into the room.

Alma glanced at Julia, wearing a look of question on her face. "You still call this man 'Dr. House?' Or do you not know who he is?"

"I know," Julia assured her, her eyes on House. "I know who he is."

This is going SO MUCH SLOWER than I thought it was going to. I felt for sure by chapter eight I might be wrapping things up. We're getting there, gang, slowly but surely, never fear! Anyways, thanks for the reviews of chapter seven. I was so pleasantly surprised; the responses added up to "strange but wonderful." I'm so glad you liked it! Anyways, as I read this chapter over, I realized that I had several more opportunities to screw up and not stay true to the reality of the way a hospital works. If you notice anything, let me know! I can go back and fix it if it's going to cause major problems in the future. Thanks for stopping by! (Pst! The review button is right down there to your left, if you'd like to say anything to me. :P)