Right now he was thinking about Cameron.
Her laughing fit had disturbed him more than his face would let him show. Worried him, too. It was less of the fact she'd had it, then the sound.
She giggled, he thought with disgust.
She just wasn't the schoolgirl giggle type. Hell, Chase was more likely to start giggling then she was. Cameron usually had more self control. Had the passed few weeks been that stressful to her?
The thought was troubling.
He glanced up as she passed his office on the way to the lab. She met his gaze then looked away quickly, cheeks reddening. A slight frown passed over House's face. He would have to follow this closely.
"Have you seen Dr House? I heard he was looking after a patient, but he isn't in the exam room..."
Vogler's voice echoed down the hall. House listened intently as there was a muffled reply. Then came the soft thud of footsteps as they came towards his door. Throwing caution to the winds, House did something he realised in hindsight was probably very stupid.
He dived behind his desk
Hidden from view, House swore quietly to himself as an agonising jolt shot up his damaged leg.
There was a slight creak as the door slid open.
Vogler walked two steps in, then stopped. House was silent, quietly fuming. Vogler had just walked into empty office! Granted, it wasn't exactly empty, but still. Did the man have no understanding of the word 'privacy'? A pair of shoes scuffled forward, and Vogler picked the gameboy off his desk. It beeped.
Oops.
Someone else came in.
"Oh. Uh... Mr. Vogler?" It was Wilson. There was a long silence. "Do you know where Dr House is?"
Vogler dropped the Gameboy onto the desk. "No, I was just looking for him. The cripple's slacking off as usual. Thought he might be hiding in here." Wilson gave a little nervous cough, glancing at the desk. He could see the edge of a walking stick poking out.
"Well, uh, It doesn't look like he's here."
Vogler grunted. "Tell him when you see him I'm still waiting for his answer."
He walked out, slamming the door behind him. Wilson peered over the top of the desk and down at House.
"Playing hide and seek by any chance?" House scowled up at his smirking face.
"Stop grinning like an idiot and help me up."
By the time Cameron got back to the room, they had come up with a diagnosis. Irregularities on the sides of the intestines cause by arteries swollen by fat.
Chase's idea, of course.
She kept her head down, not willing to meet Foreman's eyes. To his credit, Foreman didn't mention the reason for her brief absence, simply telling her that she was needed in the MRI room.
Chase was already there. He looked up, and a tiny smirk played at the edges of his lips. Cameron looked away and sat down in front of the monitor.
The heavy silence of the scan room played on her nerves, making her tense. She could feel him watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"So..."
"What?" she said irritably, keeping her eyes firmly on the appearing scan.
"Feeling better?" She glared at him. The corner of his mouth twitched.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." he said, eyes innocent. "You just seemed a little-"
"I'm fine." she turned her head back to the screen, staring at the folds of the intestines. Chase considered pushing it further, then let it go. Standing, he peered over her shoulder at the image.
"There doesn't seem to be any irregularities." she said, shifting uncomfortably. She could feel his breath on her neck.
"Me neither. I'll go tell House."
As he left, Cameron felt an unpleasant lurch in her stomach. The little room seemed to have gotten very hot. Trying to shake it off, she pulled down the microphone that connected with the scan room.
"We've nearly finished, Mr. Waterhouse. Just a few more-" she was answered with a rumbling snore. He'd fallen asleep.
Sweat ran down her neck as she finished of the MRI. When she at last stood, her head suddenly spun. Staggering, she grabbed the edge of the counter.
Stars gathered at the edge of her peripheral vision as she swayed. It slowly passed, though the fear it brought didn't.
What was wrong with her?
They were in the diagnostics office. Back at the drawing board, so to speak. House looked at them expectantly, though he couldn't quite disguise the boredom in his eyes. This case was mundane, compared to the others he usually dealt with. There was no challenge. Chase leant forward, rubbing his head.
"Tapeworm?" he said half-heartedly. Foreman shook his head.
"Would have shown up on the MRI"
"Not necessarily. It was pretty full down there. If it was small enough, maybe we couldn't see it."
"If it was that small, the symptoms wouldn't be so bad."
Chase shrugged. "It's worth a shot. We've got nothing better." He looked at House, who returned a bored look.
"Run the tests." his gaze flicked to Cameron. "Anything you'd like to add?"
Cameron hadn't being paying attention, gazing distractedly out a window. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking nervously about the reasons for her sudden dizzyness.
She gave a little jolt, and looked rather guiltily at the board. She blinked, staring at it. The silence lengthened.
She couldn't read the words.
It wasn't that she didn't know what the letters meant. But they were blurred together, fuzzy like TV on bad reception. She could make out an I...or a L...
"Cameron?"
"That...that sounds fine." she stammered, staring at the words with growing panic. Her sight blurred further.
The other two got up to leave. House gave a little frown, looking at her closely. She was looking pale, squinting hard at the board like she needed glasses. He was about to say something when she noticed him staring. She scampered out before he could even open his mouth.
"Okay Mr. Waterhouse, we're just going to flush out your bowels. It's just to check for-"
"Will it hurt?" Mr. Waterhouse, who looked like a giant sweaty beach ball with limbs, shifted uncomfortably on the bed.
"Believe me, it will hurt us more than it'll hurt you." muttered Chase under his breath. Foreman threw him a warning look, but fortunately Mr. Waterhouse didn't catch the insult. They were hooking up a drip filled with Gutetrine. A laxative that took less than ten minutes to flush out the bowels.
Not pleasant. But there were far worse alternatives.
Chase connected the tubes together, twisting the knobs to the correct level. Foreman took the mans pudgy hand, wiping it was a damp cotton bud. Cameron came in, handing the needle over to Foreman.
"This might sting a little." he said to the man, pressing the needle into skin. The man barely flinched. Probably can't feel it through all that fat thought Chase disgustedly to himself. The man on the bed shifted suddenly, staring hard at Cameron.
"Is she alright?"
She was holding onto the metal bar on the side of the bed with a white knuckled hand. Her face was white tinged with green, pupils shrunk to pinpricks.
"Cameron?" Chase moved forward, but she was already moving. She tore out of the room.
She made it. Barely.
The nausea had been building up slowly since the dizzy spell. Barely fifteen minutes had passed, and nowCameron was bent over a toilet bowl, feeling everything she'd ever eaten surge up her throat. She coughed painfullyas stomach acid burned her throat.
Finally she sat back against the wall of the stall, wiping her streaming eyes.
Even afterwards, nausea still beat at the walls of her stomach. She rubbed her eyes. There was an unsettling fear in her stomach, that there was something seriously wrong with her. Medical brain clicking into focus, it began to spit out the things that matched her symptoms. Beginning stages of Leukemia, Harkin's disease...
With a sigh she stood up. That was one of the problems with being a doctor. Too much knowledge, so that every headache became the onset of brain cancer. It was probably just a stomach bug.
Nothing to worry about.
She flushed the toilet and opened the door, nearly running into the person standing outside.
"Sor..." the words died in her mouth.
It was House.
"Finally. You were taking for ever in there."
Cameron just gaped at him. What the hell was he doing in the woman's bathroom?
Duh, looking for you said a part of her mind she usually tried to ignore, the part that still clung to the thought that House might actuallylike her. Pushing it away, she glared at House. He' folowed her in here, with his usual total disregard for privacy.Annoyed beyond words, she pushed passed him and went to the sink, washing her hands.
"Hey, you get nicer doors then us." he commented. He wasn't looking at the doors though, staring instead at her with a piercing gaze. He was waiting for her reaction. Cameron sighed, knowing she would regret it as she opened her mouth.
"Why are you here?"
"I was worried about you. Plus I've always wondered what it was like in the little girls room." he looked around in feigned interest. Cameron wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, still tasting the bile. Her throat and mouth still burned with it.
"I'm fine. It's a stomach bug."
"Either that, or Bulimia isn't working out for you."
She glared at him. His face was blurred, even though he was barely a metre away. "I'm not bulimic." He snorted
"Right, like you can keep an arse like that sitting in front of a computer all day." She walked away from the sink and stood right in front of him, staring him right in the eye. House looked down at her calmly.
"What do you want, House? There has to be a reason you're trying to piss me off."
"I'm just was wondering if there was a reason you went hysterical in the office. Either a little too much wine, or something's up."
"Like you'd care." she spat. Cameron turned and headed for the door.
"I'm sending you home."
She stopped, then faced him. She looked as angry as he'd ever seen her.
"Fine." Cameron turned her back and walked away. Hidden from his view, she let a small flicker of relief into her eyes. She knew she wouldn't have lasted the day.
Chase watched as Cameron stormed into the office and walked to her desk. She started to shove things savagely into her purse.
"Going somewhere?"
"Home. House thinks I'm too sick to keep working." Cameron was annoyed, probably more than she should have been. She understood House's reasoning. But something about the whole situation made her want to kick something. She was sick of his games, sick of the way he could get her mad so easily.
Sick of him.
Turning to leave, she accidentally walked into her desk. Papers and pens flew onto the floor. With a sigh of annoyance she bent to pick them up. Chase got up to help.
"You know, he might have a point. You don't look well."
"Don't you start." she snapped.
It was like her fingers were covered in butter. She reached out for a pencil and just seemed to miss. They would slip from under her fingers and roll further. Chase noticed.
"Let me. You just sit." Grudgingly she did. She felt stupid sitting there while Chase went after the stuff on the floor. The feeling quickly went away as a wave of dizziness hit her. Bending over, she put her head in her hands. The ground wobbled like it was the deck of a boat.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just..." nausea roiled. Chased watched in growing alarm as sweat beads glittered on her face. Her hands were shaking. Startled, he put the pencils on the table, putting a hand on her forehead.
Instead of theburning he expected, her skin was like ice.
"How long have you felt like this?" he asked, shocked.
"I had a headache this morning." she mumbled. Her breathing was shallow. Chase felt her pulse. It skipped under his hands. Whatever this was, it was advancing very rapidly.
"Listen, I'm calling you a cab. I don't think you're going to be able to drive home." She said nothing, still holding her head. He got up and went for a phone.
The world was still spinning with a nauseating wobble. Eyes closed, she tried to take deep breaths. Every one seemed to burn her throat. Chills were sweeping up and down her arms.
One hell of a stomach bug she thought numbly. There was a slight squeak as the door opened.
"You still here?" she didn't bother to look up. The click of a cane came towards her.
"One hell of a stomach bug." House commented, echoing her thoughts. "You should be at home. Now. As in leaving-"
"Chase is calling me a cab." Though she didn't see it, House's eyes narrowed.
"I see." Helooked up as Chase came in.
"Cab will be here in about 5 minutes."
"Thanks." Cameron stood, picking up her bag.
"I'll walk you down-"
"What, she's so sick she can't find her way to the front door?" interrupted House, cocking an eyebrow at Chase. "Foreman's just making sure Mr. Waterhouse's bowels are empty. He'll probably need your help."
Chase glowered at House, who gave him a bright smile and motioned him to leave.
Cameron had already gone, walking down the halls as the world continued to spin.
Wilson was trying to explain to a pissed-off Dr Lambert why he was missing a patient. It wasn't going well.
"Dr. House thought it was worth investigating-"
"Investigating? I was investigating it!" snarled Dr Lambert, eyes popping with rage. Wilson wiped a droplet of spittle of his cheek, wondering why he kept covering for House. No matter how many times he did it, he could never work out why.
"That man has no respect for anyone inside this hospital! Oh, I can't wait till Vogler finally gives him the boot, I really can't..." he stomped down the hallway, muttering furiously to himself. Wilson shook his head, walking back towards his office.
There was a sharp crybehind him,as though someone had been kicked in the ribs. The sound made his teeth stand on edge.
He looked quickly in time to see a woman crumple to the floor, like a marionette with the strings cut.
He was the closest of the hospital staff, and the first to kneel beside the limp form. He rolled the woman over.
The world seemed to freeze as he looked down into Cameron's white face.
Her body was stiff and rigid like she was dead. Wide, blank eyes stared at the ceiling. Her lips were tinged blue.
Wilsonfelt for a pulse, praying. He felt frantic heartbeats beneath his fingers. A nurse came rushing up.
"Get a bed, quick-" he stopped suddenly. There was a twitch under his fingers. He recoiled as her body began to quiver. The pieces clicked into place, revealing a horrifying picture.
"She's about to have a seizure!"
The nurse shouted out for help as Dr Cameron's body began to tremble.
Looooong chapter.