Title: Mistaken
Rating: T
Summary: Cameron has made some mistakes in her life, but she is learning how to live again.
Disclaimer: Unfourtunately, I own no part of House. If I did, do you really think I would be writing stories?
Note: I'm planning on turning this into a House/Cameron story eventually. Proabaly some Cam & Foreman or Cam & Wilson friendship thrown in somewhere.
Checking the clock, Cameron saw that it was a bit past ten – almost everyone in the hospital, everybody on the 4th floor anyway, had left long ago to go home and relax. Yet Allison was still sitting in House's office, flipping through his mail and trying to get focused enough to actually answer one of the many letters. Thoughts flooded through her head, making it hard to concentrate. If Foreman had thought she was jumpy earlier, he should see how uptight she was now. Tapping a pencil lightly on the desk, she watched the clock tick.
Drawing in as much air as her lungs could hold, she closed her eyes and sighed.. If this was going to happen, now was as good a time as any. Slowly standing from the black chair, she let the wheels push it backwards. As Cameron stepped out into the hallway, her heels clicked against the ground. The minute sound of her shoes hitting the tile seemed to echo throughout the corridor. Quickening her pace, Cameron felt sweat beads beginning to form at the top of her forehead, making her fear even more evident. Stopping suddenly, she turned and entered the lab on her left. Fear overwhelmed her, and she shook as if the temperature was below zero.
Maybe I should just go back she thought to herself. Closing her eyes again, she clenched her jaw. No, I need to do this. Let's just get it over quickly. Searching around, she quickly found the antiseptic and tourniquet in a drawer. She picked up one of the cotton balls and soaked it in the alcohol, using it to clean a spot on her forearm. Tying the latex band around her left arm, she shuddered. Finding the target vein, she gently inserted the fine needle with a shaking hand. Crimson blood collected in the syringe. Doing the procedure alone wasn't protocol, but well worth the privacy it provided.
She slowly untied the tourniquet, trying to eat up as much time as possible to avoid doing the test she had come for. As the band snapped off, Cameron picked up the vial of fresh blood. After prepping it for the test, she put the tube in its slot and sat back, preparing for the longest wait of her life. She watched the electronic clock countdown from 3 minutes. 2:37, 2:16, 1:28. The timers' soft chime made her jump as if someone had grabbed her from behind.
As the bright white sheet of paper printed out, she felt faint. She had made such huge mistakes in the past week. Even though it all started as an accident, so much of it had been her fault. If she could travel back in time, so many things could've been done differently, better choices made. But the printers' hum suddenly stopped, jerking her back to the present. This would be the document that could change everything.
Scanning the paper for what she wanted, her eyes captured the result. As she read it, tears began flowing down her face. The sheet read, in black sentencing letters, POSITIVE.
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