I Should Have Known Better
(Scene Four: "Ailments and Cures")
A/N: Last installment! I shall now address a comment made to me: I did take literary license with this story. I tried to put as much information as I could, but I also added a few things, namely the Plague Center. In The Stand by Stephen King Plague Centers are mentioned quite often, and I thought it would be a good thing to add here, and a way to get Stacy into this as more than a love interest. If it's good enough for Mr. King, it's good enough for me. Anyway, enjoy this bit, it's the last. I've made minor revisions to the previous chapters, nothing huge, just small mistakes and idiosyncrasies.
Disclaimer: If only I had created House!
"But the last outbreak of the Avian Flu was nearly over a year ago," Foreman said, "in Viet Nam."
"And John hasn't traveled outside the country within the past year," Cameron said. "He's barely even left the state."
"Avian Flu is transported to humans usually through direct contact with an infected bird or its droppings," House said, ignoring their comments.
"Usually?" Foreman asked
"In rare cases, if the strain of flu is strong enough, human to human contraction of the disease is possible, although the symptoms are much milder."
"Chase…" Cameron said.
"Exactly. Same symptoms without all the dramatics of being on the verge of death."
"Okay, say it is the Avian Flu," Foreman said, "How did John get infected? If there is a likelihood of more people getting infected, we need to move quickly."
"Gee, I wonder why I didn't think of that," House said, turning to Cameron. "Find out everywhere he's been for the past two weeks; make it a month if you can."
Cameron barely had time to nod before she sprinted out the door.
"You get to run some tests," House said, turning to Foreman. "Direct antigen detection, use a nasopharyngeal aspirate sample. You're most likely looking for the H5N1 strain."
Foreman, following Cameron's lead, sprinted from the room. House grabbed his cane from the white board and hobbled out the door after him.
"Avian Flu?" Chase said.
"Chances are, yeah," House replied.
House turned his back on Chase and began rummaging through the medical cabinet that sat on the right side on the room.
"How did I get the Avian Flu?"
"From your hall-mate," House indicated across the hall to John's room, where Foreman was preparing to extract the nasopharyngeal aspirate sample from John's nasal cavity. House continued to rummage.
"Where did he get it? The last strain to show up was in Viet Nam."
"Good boy, you want a cookie for that?"
"Has he been to Viet Nam?"
"Look," House turned around, holding three face masks in his hands. He placed one over his nose and mouth as he continued to speak, "you, are stuck in there." House pointed into Chase's isolated environment. "The only people who are going to be useful at this point, are out there." House indicated out into the hall.
"So you want me to just sit here?"
"Preferably, yes."
House exited Chase's room and made his was across the hall. He threw a mask at Cameron and Foreman, and then left again.
Foreman hated quarantine rooms. That meant quarantine suits. He felt like one of the doctors who had experimented on Stu Redman during his stay in the Vermont Plague Center in The Stand. He buttoned, zipped, tied, and hermetically sealed himself into the damn thing, and made his way into John's isolated chamber.
John didn't even register Foreman's presence. Foreman found what he needed to obtain the nasopharyngeal aspirate sample, and began the procedure as quickly as the clumsy quarantine suit would allow.
He inserted the catheter carefully into John's left nostril, stopping when he was sure he'd reached the palate. He then applied the vacuum to the end of the catheter, and slowly withdrew the catheter with a rotating motion. He repeated the procedure again for the right nostril, flushed the catheter with 3mL of transport medium, and got the hell out of that room.
"Did John do anything out of the ordinary this week?" Cameron asked, sitting in a plastically upholstered chair, across from Allison in an empty waiting room.
"He went to school, went to work, and came home. He doesn't have time for much else. If I didn't go visit him, I don't think we'd ever see each other," Allison said.
Cameron always found it a little harrowing to meet a person with the same name as herself. She wasn't quite sure why. Obviously there were hundreds of people named Allison in the world, and she was just one of the many; but every time she met another Allison, Cameron had the sinking suspicion that she was being sized up. She had that feeling now, even though she was speaking with someone to whom she was quite a few years older.
"Where does John work?" Cameron asked.
"At a restaurant downtown," Allison said. "The River's End."
House stood in Diagnostics, staring at the white board. There was not much good in it. Not until Foreman came back with the results or until Cameron stopped chatting with The Girlfriend. It was one of the many moments House experienced in his line of work where he knew what was going on, he knew the cards of all the players but all he could do was wait until they made their move. House often found himself, at this point in the game, staring off into space and thinking, often times not about the case itself. This was one of those times.
Instead of thinking of the young man, in his charge, lying deathly ill somewhere in the hospital he was thinking of her. He had done this a lot; ever since Cuddy asked him whether he would mind if she became part of the hospital staff. He said no. He meant yes. Yes he'd mind if he had to see the woman he was still in love with everyday. Yes, he'd mind seeing her go home every night to a home they didn't share. Yes, he'd mind having his heart trampled on, repeatedly.
Of course, he told none of this to Cuddy.
"Nothing," Cameron entered the room.
House nearly jumped out of his skin, suddenly seeing her standing right next to him.
"What?"
"I talked to Allison," Cameron said. "She said that John's just gone from school to work to home."
"Well those are the three places you'll soon be visiting."
"What?"
"Oh, I won't make you go alone. Take Foreman with you."
"Take Foreman where?" Foreman entered the room.
"Out for a drink, you've been working so hard," House said in his preferred scathing tone of voice.
"The results are back from both John and Chase's antigen tests," Foreman said, choosing to ignore the sarcasm.
"And?"
"Both positive. Virus strain H5N1. The Avian Flu."
"Start both of them on neuraminidase inhibitors. Both oseltamivir and zanimivir."
"I thought you said you were sending me somewhere," Foreman said.
"I lied."
"Okay, so now that we know what is making our patient sick we need to find out how he got sick in the first place," House said as he and Cameron climbed into her car.
"We should start with The River's End," Cameron said.
"Anything like Inspiration Point?"
"It's a restaurant. Allison says John spends more time pulling double shifts there than anywhere else."
They pulled out of the hospital and made their way downtown. Cameron found the restaurant without a hitch and managed to squeeze into a parking space that, to the naked eye, would have seemed impossible. House was impressed.
"Hello, and welcome to The River's End, party of two?" the concierge greeted House and Cameron warmly.
"No, but I would like to speak with the man who signs your paychecks," House said.
"We've had no complaints of any customers getting sick," the manager and co-owner of The River's End said for the third time. He was a short man with thick hair everywhere but on his head. His button-down shirt was rolled back to his elbows, and his tie was askew.
"We're going to need a sample of your poultry," House said, ignoring the manager.
"Of course!" he shoved a menu into House's hands.
House frowned at the menu.
"A frozen sample would be best," Cameron said, smiling politely.
"This is a pretty pricy place you've got here," House said, as the manager took them to the food storage room, in the back of which was the freezer.
"Ah, the price is well worth it! See here," the manager slapped a bulging burlap bag, "rice, straight from Viet Nam."
"All the way from Viet Nam, huh?" House said.
"Just got it in two days ago."
House caught Cameron's eye. Suddenly she understood why House had stopped moving toward the freezer.
"And, have you cooked with this particular batch yet?" Cameron asked. She just barely controlled the panic in her voice.
"Oh no no no," said the manager. "We've still got just a bit more up in the front to use before we open up one of these."
"Just for the sake of asking questions," House began, "who stocks you with this rice?"
"There's a small farm on the coast and we get the rice from them. Viet Nam is the world's leading exporter of rice you know."
"This farm, do they supply a lot of restaurants out here with their rice?" Cameron asked.
"Oh no," said the manager proudly. "Just us. I have my stock boy run down to get it special when it comes in and have him put it right here." He slapped the bag again.
House squinted in the direction of the bag. The outside was dirty.
"This small farm you get the rice from, do they have chickens?"
"Oh yes, yes. It's very Green Acers, you know what I mean? Cows, chicken, vegetables, rice, the works. But the rice is the only thing that's worth the bother of shipping, you know what I mean?"
"You're going to have to close your restaurant for a while."
"I can't do that! It's the middle of the day!"
"And you might not want to touch anyone with that hand; it's covered in dried chicken feces."
"Feeling better?" Allison smiled at John, holding his hand, in his new, normal hospital room.
"Much better," he kissed her hand.
Cameron, Foreman, and Chase walked down the hallway.
"All the employees at the restaurant have been vaccinated," Chase said, feeling much better himself.
"And John looks like he's ready to go home," Cameron said.
"So, are we going to b signing his discharge forms anytime soon?" Foreman asked.
"Soon enough," Cameron said. "I think."
"Here," House dropped a folder onto Stacy's desk. She looked up in surprise.
"What's this?" She stood and opened up the folder.
"It's my report," House said. "I fixed the sick guy. Now the Plague Center can have their fun." He moved to leave but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned to look at Stacy, who was remarkably close to him.
"Thank you," she said.
"Your welcome" he said, his voice barely audible to his own ears. He placed a hand on hers and squeezed it gently. He had a very sudden urge to close the gap between them, and quickly. He took a step closer to her.
"Goodbye, Greg." Stacy said. Her own voice was rather soft.
House released her hand and hobbled out into the hallway, afraid of what he'd almost done, but even more afraid of what to do now. He popped a few Vicodin before continuing the trek to his office. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, grabbed a bottle of scotch, and a plastic cup. A few minutes later he was on the roof. A few minutes after that, he was on his third drink. A few minutes after that someone, who had just hung up her white lab coat for the evening, sat down next to him.
"Someone told me I might find you up here," Cameron said.
"That fink," House mumbled.
They sat there in silence for a few moments.
"Don't think that just because I've had a few drinks that I'm going to open up to you," House said.
"How many more bottles of scotch would that take?" Cameron asked, a small smile playing across her lips.
"How many bottles can you find in my office?"
Cameron suddenly found herself thinking of the other Allison. She felt that same sense of inadequacy as before. A few floors below her sat a girl who cared so much about the man she loved that she'd force him into a hospital against his will. And a few doors down from that girl was a woman who had done the same thing. Both of these women had felt that overpowering love and need to protect someone. Cameron felt it too. The difference between the girl and the woman inside the hospital and Cameron? Those two women had been loved back. She looked over at House. She wished desperately to know what he was thinking.
House, was having one of those moments again, the one of complete calm and loss of power. He knew all the cards, he knew all the players, and he had made his move. It was no longer in his hands now. For his part, all he could do was wait.
A/N: The end. Well, that's it! I hope it didn't disappoint. I know, I know, House didn't end up with anyone, so there are those of you looking at the subcategory of the story and going "I see the general bit, where's the romance?" I'm sorry, but House is torn, and I don't think that he can "end up" with anyone just yet. He's still in love with Stacy, that's painfully obvious, but he also has inklings of feelings for Cameron (which I think is a constant, but it's just overshadowed by Stacy at the moment). Anyway, point is this is House's romantic angst, not actual romance. So sorry.
I'll be writing more with House, just perhaps not a lot of episode-like fics. A lot of research, and I'm sure I should have done more.
Stay tuned!
And thank you to every single person who bothered to review this story: you all make the world go round.