Title: Vicodin is for Lovers pt 2?
Author: revolution25 aka laurieisme
Summary: will later be House/Cameron. Between love and hate, Cameron and House find a happy in-between.
Rating: Teen right now, may go to Adult later.
Author's Notes: My first House fanfiction, but hardly my first fanfiction. As ever thanks eternally to my beta Vessybeta. I would like to explain the Wing Nurse. I worked at a hospital YEARS ago, and this is how it worked: In each different wing or floor of the hospital there was a head (and or wing) nurse that oversaw everything. The other nurses went about and did their business, but the wing nurse was in charge of making sure everything in that wing of the hospital ran smoothly, so she would know which patients are allowed visitors and so forth. If you could get past her, you were golden. Is that the way it's run in PPTH? I don't know, but it works for the story.
2nd author's note: You may be wondering why the Latin, well considering I wasted two years in high school on Latin as a second language classes, I thought I'd put them to some use.
Primum non nocere (first, do no harm)
Cameron sat in the passenger's seat of the car the robber drove, he was headed downtown. The car was old, and an ugly shade of brown with pieces of the top rusted away making a slight breeze flow through the car.
Cameron was clenching every muscle in her body to stop from shaking. On her shoulder where the man had grabbed her, she knew she was bruising; unlike any other bruise she had ever gotten in her life, it felt cold.
When they approached an old abandoned warehouse he stopped the car and turned to her.
"You be a good girl and get out of the car."
She stared at nothing in front of her, too frightened to do anything he wanted, and too smart to know that doing what he wanted might lead to an early grave.
He angrily got out of his seat and went over to her side, opened the door and pushed her out and onto the ground. When she hit the ground her hand hit something metal and hard, it was a broken off piece of a road sign. She waited until he tried to pick her up and when his gun was tucked in-between his belt and his pants she shoved the scrap into his leg as hard as she could.
He let go of her and fell to the ground in agony. She got to her feet as quickly as possible and started to run away, but looking back at him she stopped herself.
She knew the amount of time it would take her to run to a main street and call the police, and she knew how long it would take the closest ambulance to get there, she also knew how long it would take for him to bleed out.
He was going to die.
She went back to him knowing he was in too much pain to care about trying to kill her, she took the metal out and threw it away.
"What the-"
"I'm a doctor," was the only reply she would give this man.
She undid his belt and wrapped it around his leg, tightening it until it became a proper tourniquet.
When she was done, she ran quickly, but not quick enough.
He shot her.
He took the gun that had dropped to the ground once she undid his belt and shot her as she was running away.
She looked down to see the wound at her side, but kept running to the main street. She got there, then went into the one open thing she could find, a gas station.
She knew she asked for help before she fell to the ground, but she didn't seem to be able to focus on any one thing, even the attendant who came to her side while he was on his cell phone calling 911.
Cameron opened her eyes and felt such a state of confusion, mostly because she didn't remember closing them.
"It's good to see you back in the land of the living."
She turned to her left, where the voice had come from, and saw Dr. Wilson checking her levels. For Wilson he looked disheveled, his shirt was still crisp, but his tie was off to one side and the top button was undone.
"Hi."
It was all she could think of saying. She knew where she was and why she was there, so that left little but small talk.
"I should tell you," he said in a very serious voice which made her ears perk up, "that you are no longer in the land of Oz, and yes, there is no place like Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."
She smiled and felt a weight lift; joking meant that she was going to be just fine.
"Why are you my doctor?" she asked after a moment; knowing his specialty, her stomach seemed to drop into her feet.
"Because I asked. Actually everyone else asked too... well except House, he said you already caused him enough trouble- and before you ask, he's fine. Long story short, I grabbed the longest straw."
He attached her chart to the end of her bed, then sat next to her, "You'll be sore, and you'll need to take a few days off of work, which means minimal physical activity, and you'll be fine. Two more days in the hospital to make sure you develop no internal bleeding and you'll be out of here."
"Thank you," she said as he left the room.
His only response was to smile and nod.
Foreman and Chase entered Cameron's hospital room knowing full well she wasn't allowed to have visitors yet. But they happened to bribe Wilson and House to distract the wing nurse while they snuck in.
The bribe was six hours each of clinic duty.
When in the room Chase and Foreman had all kinds of questions and apologies. They asked if he had hurt her in any way beside the gunshot, and she tried as best she could to assure them that he had not touched her like that.
"When House woke up he asked if you were around, we told him you were here and that was the only thing I remember him asking about you. You think after what you both had been through..." Foreman said explaining further why he thought House was an ass.
"What happened anyway?" Chase asked.
"He stopped the car, pushed me out, I stabbed him with something metal and sharp, then placed a tourniquet around his leg. I ran, and he shot me." As long as her voice was monotone she could pretend that the information she was revealing was about a patient or someone other than herself.
An alarm on Chase's watch went off, signaling their time was up. They said their goodbyes and left as inconspicuously as possible.
It took them about ten minutes for their visit, which was enough time to convince the nurse that there was a boil on Dr. Wilson's ass that needed to be lanced. When they saw Foreman and Chase leave the room they muttered something about misdiagnosis, and scrambled to get away from the nurse who now clasped a very sharp object in her hand.
Several hours later she was allowed visitors, and that was when House went in to see her.
He came in and sat on her bed, apparently not understanding some people have personal space. He said nothing, and she didn't feel like being the one to start anything so they sat in silence for a while.
She sat up, trying to get more comfortable, but only aggravated her wound. She winced in pain and House took out his bottle of Vicodin and handed her one. She swallowed it and waited for him to say something, anything.
He didn't.
That is, until she could feel the affect of the Vicodin, he must have timed it because he said, "Just like candy, actually the best candy in the world."
She nodded, not knowing what else to do.
He was about to say something, paused, then said, "You were really stupid."
Confusion and anger flooded her mind, "What do you mean by-"
"Saving his life almost got you killed, that was the stupidest idea ever."
"I took an oath."
"That oath, when a man has a gun, is no longer applicable."
"I'm not going to be responsible for killing a man."
"So you should die? Because you may have problems with taking someone's life, he didn't."
"Why are you getting so angry with me?" she asked exasperated. "I think the common emotion is to be angry with the person who tried to kill me, not the other way around."
"And what if he had killed you? Did you ever stop to think what that would do to the people around you?" He paused, then said, "Who would make my coffee?"
When he said it, there were emotions that came through those words; it was about more than just coffee. It was one of the few times that House showed a truly felt hurt.
"I'm sorry."
And in a way she was.
"You should be, do you know how hard it is to try to convince Wilson to show a little leg?"
Houses wall built back up, his humor being one of the things he did to keep people away.
"I can't say I've run into that problem," she smiled, playing right into what he wanted and knowing full well what was going on.
He sighed, "I don't want you to hate me."
Cameron was taken aback. It was the first time that he really told her anything about his preference as to what she felt except for his wanting for her not to love him.
Before she could say anything in response he said, "I also don't want you to love me. So."
"So," she repeated, clearly not knowing where he was going with this.
"I think we can- well there is a middle ground to all of this."
"Indifference?" she asked, trying to find his meaning.
He rolled his eyes, "Okay smarty pants, a little further away from hate."
"You mean... friends?"
"I don't share my pills with just anyone."
"Okay," she said with a smile.
This time he was the one to hold out his hand, and she took it gladly, happy that they could find a middle ground. She was happy for this change, because hating him had been taking so much of her energy, and with the recent turn of events she didn't really want to hate anyone.
"By the way, what do I have to do to get you to show a little leg?"
"Twelve clinic hours." She said automatically, knowing that he would never actually go through with that.
He groaned, "You're killing me! What if Chase does twelve clinic hours?"
"Eighteen and you got yourself a deal."
"Glorious," he said taking her lemon jello.
"That's mine!" she said trying to grab at it.
He lifted the lid then licked it, "Now it's mine."
She rolled her eyes, "It would be a lot easier if I just hated you."
She never meant those words, and neither party involved thought she did. And as punishment for saying such a thing she was subjected to fifteen minutes of General Hospital.
But she really didn't mind.
End of part 2