A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I am so busy and in that moment where chaos reigns. My textbooks lay on the floor around me mingled with make-up and tennis shoes. It's craziness. Thanks for reading! I don't know what else to say. I like my angsty stories, but I know they are not everyone's cup of tea so you all get gold stars for hanging in there with me. Yes, there is a little House/Cam energy. I couldn't help myself. It's starting to make sense for me.

Sheila

Chapter 9

Heart Cancer

Cuddy glared at him, her hands on her hips. He squinted at her for a moment, and returned to his game boy.

"They came all the way from Minnesota for this."

He shrugged in response, not looking up. "You act as if they walked."

"You have sat in that conference and said nothing. For four hours, you have been silent."

She could see him rolling his eyes at the tiny screen of his game.

"The least you could do is come with us out to lunch. They have been trying to engage you all day, and you have done nothing but sit there with a long face."

"Flash them a little thigh. Tell Cameron to unbutton her shirt a little. My gaydar says that Hanson would enjoy Chase sitting next to him. Take them out to that Italian place down by the civic center. It'll be great. Tell them I had to stay behind and see a patient."

She snorted, "If I say that in front of your team, someone's liable to choke to death."

"Tell them I'm reading Dr. Suess to the little cancer kids. Tell them I can't live without 'em."

She let out a deep breath. "He will come back. He's not stupid. He'll be back in a couple of days."

"Idiot!" House growled at the game.

"You know, I have a feeling that if you hadn't been too sick to leave, you would have done the same thing he did when you had your infarction."

House slammed the game down on the table. "Well, he's supposed to know better. We worked it out that way. I am the unpredictable one, and he is my faithful, reliable sidekick."

She rested her hand over her eyes for a moment as if tending a headache. "You know, House, you're really a piece of work. Could you be any more self-centered? Men. All of you; Wilson included. Truth is, there's only one reason a woman really wants a man around."

House's eyebrows jumped.

She pointed a finger in his face, "Don't even think about it, Mister. No remarks. You haven't earned them. You're too busy wallowing in your…your….miserable wrongheadedness to do anything but sit there and take it."

He blinked and creased his brow, looking puzzled.

"Have you told your team?"

"No," he growled. "And I'm not going to…yet. I don't want them distracted."

She dismissed him with a wave. "Go back to your stupid game. We'll make this happen without you." She turned and stalked out of the room, her thick, dark hair swinging back and forth across her back.

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He couldn't describe the feeling of warmth rising in him. The sand was cool between his toes, and a sweet wind massaged his face. Waves crashed against the shore, and, for a moment, he wondered why it sounded so different here than in New Jersey. Then he looked up into the clear night sky and saw stars as bright as diamonds in sunlight, and he knew he was really hearing the ocean and seeing the sky for the first time. Hands dug deeply into his chino pants, he imagined that he could stand here forever and be happy.

He never heard her approach and was startled to see her standing there, her long, black hair flying across her face. She didn't look much like her sister. Unlike Conni, she was shorter and wider, her hair was straight, but she had the same piercing black eyes although tonight they were red and puffy. For a moment, she just stood there swallowing hard, and then she turned her wounded eyes to him. "I can't believe you brought all of us here."

He looked back out on the ocean. "Is your room okay? You can get about anything you want here. Just say the word."

She laughed. "There is a bed in my room that is three times bigger than what I sleep on at home. I have a bathroom with a Jacuzzi in it: a real Jacuzzi. I'd have to say that I'm pretty satisfied."

He looked at her and nodded. "Good."

"This is costing you a fortune," she ventured, a worried look on her face.

He chuckled. "I make a lot of money, Marta, and rarely, do I have time to spend it. There are no financial worries."

"Do you love my sister?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Marta, you have no idea what a dangerous question that is for me. Let's just say that we both needed paradise, and I had the means to get us there."

"Are you sure you want all of us here? Kids, me, Hector."

He patted her shoulder. "She wants everyone here. I wouldn't take her away from any of you. It would be the wrong thing to do with the kind of time she has left."

She swallowed again and looked down. He watched her struggle to compose herself and then he turned his attention back to the moonlit surf. He waited a few minutes before speaking. "Marta, she can't run around and sightsee. She needs to rest as much as possible. You and Hector can take the kids and explore the island. Hawaii has so many things to offer or so I've heard. I'll stay with her."

She nodded. "Well, maybe we should just stay here at the resort. They seem to have everything here."

He smiled at her. "We're going to be here for as long as she wants. Take your time. Explore. She needs her girls and she needs her rest. I'll make sure there is plenty of time for everything.

She nodded, her dark eyes shiny like onyx. "I can show her that Hector and I can do this. We can take care of the girls."

He returned his attention to the surf. A headache was surfacing, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the smells, sounds, and feeling of paradise. When he opened his eyes sometime later, she was gone and he was alone standing in the sand, watching the tide drift away from the shore.

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Dusk was falling outside his window, but he didn't bother to hit the light. He sat there at his desk fingering a yo-yo Wilson had given him after a particularly tough case the previous fall. It was a professional one; Wilson had ordered it. There had been no ceremony. He just dropped it on House's desk one day when House was going through a particularly rough spot. House had turned it over and over in his hand, never asking any questions. Finally, he gripped it expertly, and then tried it out. The yo-yo flew out and snapped back. House grinned as he inspected its balance and speed. Quietly, Wilson backed out of the office, leaving the man with his new toy. House thought back to those times when Wilson was only a minor catastrophe at life, and they had been able to focus most of their considerable energies on House's dysfunctions.

"Are you going to sit here in the dark all night?"

Startled, he looked up to see Cameron standing in front of his desk, a bag in each hand.

"What are you doing here?" He growled. "I thought you were going to get them off to the airport."

She nodded, smiling brightly. "Mission accomplished."

"The blonde one liked you."

She shrugged. "Not my type."

"Go home."

She reached over and hit the light, and then settled into a chair across from him, carefully setting her paper bags down beside her. "I felt like the day was promising, didn't you?"

He shook his head and looked away. "Wilson was right. There are too many risks."

"No, I don't think so. It's all about the timing. If we put this together right, foresee all possibilities, I think we can do this. We have all the right people thinking it through. Davis has all but signed on to do the surgery. We just need to figure out how to order it. Makasahi will do anesthesiology, and he's the best there is. I think-"

"Stop, Cameron!" He leaned forward, eyes blazing, and pounded his cane into the ground. "This surgery is not happening! Wilson won't do it! Hell, he's not even around to do it!"

She struggled not to jerk at his savage tone. Slowly, she whispered, "I know that."

"Cuddy told you?" He snorted. "She never listens to anyone."

"She didn't tell me." Cameron got up slowly and walked around his desk. He bristled at her proximity, but she ignored him, reaching across for his phone. She dialed in her code and then her extension. When her message sounded, she hit saved messages. She stepped back, giving him his space. A familiar voice sounded on the machine. "Allison, this is Wilson. Listen…I'm going out of town for a few days. I know it's ill-advised, but I really need the time to think…He's going to be mad, and I'm not ready to fight with him. He'll probably isolate himself or become increasingly abrasive…I'm telling you this because I'm worried…I need someone to take care of him for me, and you're it…I know you care about him and he needs that right now…If he gets grouchy, ignore him. If he gets sarcastic, challenge him, and if he gets lazy, pester him…I won't be there to prescribe, and even when I get back, who knows how long I'll be…Well, never mind, I just don't want him running off to harass some poor internist who has no idea who he or she is dealing with. He gets 80 (20 mg.) tabs a month. I know. It's a tremendous amount, but it's the best balance I can find. If you give him less, he'll find it another source, but under no circumstances, give him more than 80…Be patient with him, Allison. He hides his heart, but the truth is that he cares, sometimes more than any of us. And don't take any crap. He'll respect you if you don't back down…I'll see you soon…I don't know, maybe I'll call you to check on him. Thanks." The click and then a dial tone sounded. House reached over and hung up the phone.

Cameron walked over to her bags, and pulled out four foam take out containers and set them in front of him. She pulled out plastic knives and forks and napkins. Without a word, she opened a container and set a large, rib eye steak in front of him. He stared at it as if he had never seen a piece of sirloin before. She opened another container filled with au gratin potatoes and shoved it next to the steak. She popped open the chicken Caesar, scrapped half of it into a paper plate for herself, and then put the rest in front of him. With the fourth box, she started to open it; then thought better of it. She moved it over to the side.

He gestured at it with his head. "Death by Chocolate?"

She smiled. She pulled a six pack of Newcastle out of the other bag. She tried to twist it off and then realized that she needed an opener. He reached over and gently took it from her. He lined the top up against the side of his desk and skillfully popped the top off with the palm of his hand. Then he presented to her, and reached for one of his own.

"If this is your idea of taking care of me, I'll probably need a triple bypass before Wilson ever gets back."

Sometimes House could invoke such softness in his tone that it sent shivers down her back. She blushed and turned her attention to her salad.

She cleared her throat and said, "Tomorrow, we'll map out the procedure together. Foreman is doing some research on cooling him between surgeries, and Chase went into Manhattan to meet with Sloan Kettering's Frank Miller regarding pre-op oncological procedures for a tumor this size. We'll be ready to map it tomorrow around noon."

House kept his attention focused on his steak.

She reached over and placed a hand on his arm, ignoring the involuntary flinch he gave. "We need you. Wilson needs you. I know it's gotten too personal for you, but we need your head in the game again."

"It's a fool's game," he murmured.

She squeezed his arm. "Don't argue with me, House." She reached over and took his container away, grabbing his utensils and sawing away at the meat. "You only get half of this. The size of this thing is ridiculous. And no potatoes. You can have the steak and the salad and a little bit of the dessert."

He looked up in surprise. "You realize that 'taking care of me' is really a figurative statement at best. Wilson doesn't do any of this kind of stuff. In fact, he eats poorly right along side of me."

"Well, I'm putting you on notice; there's a new sheriff in town. I want you sharp and on top of this entire situation or you will spend the rest of your life wishing you had. I'm doing this for you, and everyone who would have to suffer your constant self flagellation if you don't."

House's eyebrows jumped. "There would be flagellation? Tell me more."

She glared at him a minute, and then snatched his beer away. She gathered up the forbidden items and bagged them. Then she stood up and looked at him. "You know, if you can pull it together and get back into the game, you might just get an opportunity to see exaclty what some hot flagellation looks like."

House's mouth dropped.

She put her hands on her hips. "You think you know everything, don't you?" With that, she winked, and turned, disappearing into the hallway.

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She leaned against the doorway to the master bedroom, looking paler than he had ever seen her. He picked up an armful of blankets and pillows.

"What are you doing?" She whispered with a half smile.

"I'll bunk out on the couch. It's better for the girls."

She rolled her eyes. "Put the stuff back. I've had boyfriends before. They know we're going to share a bedroom. They like you, trust you. Isabella even said that it's good that you're a doctor 'cause then you won't mind seeing me naked so much."

"Are you sure?"

She strolled in. "I don't hide from my girls. I don't tell them everything, but I don't hide my life from them. Besides, you are not in competition with them. They will always be first, and they know that." She reached for his hand. He dropped the blankets and followed her onto the bed. For a moment, he did nothing more than hold her and feel the warmth of her frail body. "Take off your shirt," he whispered into her ear.

"No foreplay? We have already progressed to this in the relationship," she teased as she dragged her shirt up over her head.

He pulled away, grabbed a leather bag off the counter, and pulled out a stethoscope.

"What is this all about?"

"Your breath is labored. I first heard it at the airport. I want to listen to your lungs." He warmed the end of the scope in his hands and then scooted around to her back. "Breathe in deep, then exhale."

She did that for him four times as he explored different parts of her lungs. By the end she was as winded as if she had run five miles.

He sat back. "They're soupy. I brought medications and a nebulizer. We have to work on keeping them as clear as possible. I don't want you to get pneumonia on top of everything else."

She nodded, fear showing in her eyes.

"You can't run around the island with your kids. Marta and Hector can do that for you. You need to rest, no exertion. We can sit and watch the kids swim and the sunsets and have lobster salad brought to us in our deck chairs. You can't push yourself. Do this for the girls. You'll stay healthy longer."

"How long do I have?"

He shook his head. "I don't like to speculate, but I don't think you'll make it to the end of the school year. Marta's going to have to start stepping up." The fear rose in him as well. He was in deep, every bit of wisdom he had gained as an oncologist discarded before her. He thought his own situation would protect him, but he was wrong.

She looked cold, and so he gathered her in his arms and they lay together on the wide bed. She started to say something, but he put a finger to his lips. "Listen to the waves, Conni. Just lay here and listen to the waves with me."

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TBC