Disclaimer…I don't own anything
Author's Note…Sorry it took so long for this to be posted…It took a while to write, but I hope you like it! And, on an off-topic note, I just wrote my first and second Harry Potter story! It's an oneshot…check out my profile if you want to read it…I think it's cute. (And yes, I know I'm shameless.) Oh, and one more thing: I need a new beta! If anyone would do it (please) say so in your (please) review. And I'll be dedicating this chapter to randomname, whose mad beta-ing skillz got this story through some tough times.
"Darkness within darkness is the key to all understanding."
-James Frey, in A Million Little Pieces, while talking about Tao Te Ching
If given the choice, Wilson would absolutely prefer to be a giraffe. More than anything else, Wilson wanted be a giraffe.
It wasn't just their immense height that he envied, nor was it the supremacy of which they ruled over the African grasslands. It was their uncanny ability to sense danger. It was probably one of those "curse in a blessing" things, or perhaps a "blessing in a curse." Wilson had learned from one of his all-time favorite heroes, Spiderman, that with great power comes great responsibility. So, in actuality, the giraffe is the one that is plagued with all the guilt when a foal or baby gazelle or even calf is killed by a lioness. The giraffe should have noticed it coming. He should have seen the signs early on. The rustle of the tree; the stirring in the alfalfa; all hallmark signs of peril.
It was all the giraffe's fault. Blame the giraffe.
XXXxxxXXX
In the end, it wasn't the rap at the door that had drawn Cameron from her slumber, nor was it the persistency of it, but Johanna, who had crawled into Cameron's bed, nudging her awake. Cameron mentally scolded herself as she trudged to the door…a perfect mother should be much more attentive to details, even if she was asleep after an extremely long day.
"Who is it," Cameron called from one side of the door.
"Who else would come at 11:30? Unless you have a booty call that I'm not aware of. Is Chase here?"
Cameron rolled her eyes and yanked open the door, but didn't move an inch. "Hello, House."
"You gonna let me in?"
Cameron tried to close the door. "Good-bye, House."
But House wedged his cane in between the door and the wall, so he couldn't be locked out. "I don't think so."
Cameron crossed her arms. "What do you want?"
"Before I teach you some manners, young lady, I wanted to see how the little tyke was settling in."
Cameron gaped. "You, caring?" Then she smirked. "Your reputation might get hurt if word of this got around the hospital."
"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation. Name that band."
"What?"
"Never mind. So, 'bout that tyke…"
"She's sleeping, as was I before I was so rudely awakened."
"You're going to be some fun mom."
Cameron's patience was beginning to run low. "House…"
"Fine, fine. Anyway, you remember you're coming back to work tomorrow?"
"That's exactly why I was trying to get a good night's sleep. Obviously, the powers that be don't appreciate my efforts."
"Obviously."
"But I do have a small issue with work tomorrow, and I don't know how long it will last."
House raised his eyebrows. "And that problem is…?"
"I just need to change my lunch hour to 2:30 to 3:30 so I can pick up Johanna from school and drop her off at the PPTH daycare. After a few weeks for Johanna to settle, I'll make some better plans."
"Isn't there a school bus?"
"To the hospital? No." Cameron paused for a minute. "Maybe if you would pay your taxes, the district could afford some more stops."
House smirked.
"No, seriously. When I enrolled Johanna the other day, all the lady could talk about was how nobody pays their taxes and now all the kids are going to be screwed up."
"And the children are the supposed to be the future. Well, that sucks. Good thing I'll be dead before that happens." He turned around to go.
"Joan Jett and The Blackhearts," Cameron said suddenly. "That's who sings 'Bad Reputation.'"
This earned a half-smile from House. "Go to a luncheon with Emily Gilmore and you'll be all set." And, as abruptly as House came; he left, leaving Cameron wondering when the hell her boss started watching Gilmore Girls.
XXXxxxXXX
In the days and weeks leading up to Bryan's death, Cameron had wondered if she would ever be able to settle back into the normal world. Of course, she knew she herself would never be the same. It was impossible to enter a tunnel of chaos and mayhem, and come out unchanged. What she questioned was whether or not she would still be able to maintain some of who she used to before she was a wife, a widow, and a mother. Would she be able to still use the same shampoo without picturing it next to Bryan's? Would she have to get a new toothbrush holder, because the one she had now had one too many places to fill? Cameron had been so curious about it; she had even asked Joe. He told her that a spouse is really just another name for a witness. Someone who sees all your shining moments, all your low times, your triumphs, your defeats. But, then again, Joe wasn't the one who had to completely change all his toiletries because without their better half; they seemed completely foreign to him.
So it came as a complete surprise to Cameron the next day when dropping Johanna off at school and going back to work was as easy as stirring some fresh coffee and disproving Foreman's theory of vasculitis.
"So Cameron," Chase said while the team was tucked away in the lab. "What's up with you and Wilson?"
Cameron's whole body stilled, which did not explain her slightly shaky voice. "Oh, we're just carrying on a torrid affair in the elevator."
But Chase, apparently, was not a force to be reckoned with. It was an art; he had never met a question he couldn't deflect, and he had never met a person he couldn't get an answer out of. The gift was almost dangerous. "So the reason Wilson flees the room every time someone mentions your name is purely due to sexual tension?"
"Purely."
"Well, I know you don't suck, but I never would have guessed you have this strong of a sexual presence."
Cameron just shook her head. Frankly, the lie she had been living exhausted her, and she wanted nothing more to do with it. "I can't believe House didn't tell you."
"Me either; him and Wilson are just like two schoolgirls when it comes to gossip," Chase told her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Cameron rolled her eyes. "Chase, I have a daughter," she said simply.
Chase gaped and unceremoniously dropped the blood sample he had been holding. It fell to the floor with a crash, rather than a shatter. "You-wait-is it mine!"
"No!"
"Is it Wilson's?"
"Are you joking? No, she isn't Wilson's. I have a daughter. She's five, and in kindergarten."
It took Chase a moment to regain his composure. Then, he laughed. "Yeah, right. I've been to your place, and there wasn't even a dog there, let alone a kid."
Cameron sighed. She had absolutely no energy to explain. Cameron glanced at the clock and grinned; her savior. Two hundred and thirty was her new favorite number, right after six. "Lunch hour, got to go, bye," she said in one quick breath.
"But your kid," Chase called out behind her.
Cameron turned around and paused at the door. "Just talk to House, Chase. I'll see you in an hour."
To be fair, Cameron had given normalcy a try just after Bryan died. In typical fashion, she had balled up her feelings and did what she needed to do, never allowing herself time to grieve. It was a struggle unlike anything she had ever known. Every second of every day, her voice was laced with sorrow; her heart suffocated in the tears that were desperate to leak out of her. Everything was a strain. And the interesting thing was this; she knew the only person that could comfort her when she in this state was Bryan, and he was gone.
This had gone on for three weeks. After twenty-two days, Cameron had noticed some blood in her underwear, just like a red cloak. Her doctor, familiar with her "situation" as he called it, told her it was from stress and she had to give herself a break. That, or surely lose her baby.
Cameron gingerly opened her car door and as she drove, rolled down the windows. And wondered how long normalcy would last before she had to deal with a catastrophe.
XXXxxxXXX
Because Fate had a special type of loathing for Cameron, the patient of the week required all members of the team to work overtime. This resulted in Johanna eating dinner in the conference room, giving her plenty of time to be inspected like a specimen by House, Foreman, and Chase, despite the death glares Cameron sent them.
"So," House said, bouncing a small pink ball against the cool linoleum floor, "did you meet your uncle yet?"
"Uncle?" Johanna looked questioningly at Cameron.
"You'll get to know him soon, sweetie." If looks could kill, House would have already been cremated. "If you guys are just going to ask stupid questions, then I'm going home."
"You said the S-word," Johanna told her, ever vigilant.
"You're in trouble now, Cameron. You know I don't like words that start with the letter S." House leaned in towards Johanna and whispered loudly to her. "It's my least favorite letter."
Johanna gave a half-hearted giggle. "Mrs. Perdler told us that if we say a bad word, we have to give her an entire penny."
Cameron smiled at her. "I guess that means no bad words, huh?"
"Guess so."
Chase suddenly became very self-conscious, as if he were witnessing a private moment. "I still say it's Sturge-Weber Syndrome."
"And I still say I refuse to treat a patient whose disease begins with the letter 's'. Plus, Idiot McIdiot may be incredibly dumb, but he wasn't born yesterday. He was born thirty two years ago. And six days." House stuck out his tongue.
"But only typical cases present at birth," Chase persisted. "And we're a Differential Diagnostics department."
"Are you going to set that to music and orchestrate a dance routine?"
Chase crossed his arms.
"Fine, fine. Stop pouting. Get Idiot McIdiot an MRI. The rest of you can go home."
"Why do I have to say?"
"Because Foreman's got a girlfriend and looks like he needs to get laid, Cameron's got a kid that probably shouldn't have heard that, and I've got a computer with a very special "Favorites" list waiting for me at home, and she doesn't like to be ignored."
Cameron, sick of the banter, stood up. "Johanna, come on. Time to go home."
As the two left, Johanna could be heard saying before the door swung shut that her mother had a very interesting boss.
XXXxxxXXX
Exhausted from her transition into normalcy, Cameron took the elevator on the way down. They had gone past two floors without interruption, but on the fourth floor, the Oncology Floor, the door opened and in walked Wilson.
Cameron smiled wanly at him, but Johanna gave him a warm smile, not following her mother's lead.
"Hey, Cameron," Wilson asked absently. "If you could be any animal, which would it be?"
If Cameron found the question odd, she wisely didn't show it. "A Canadian Goose."
Wilson didn't know a lot about geese, but he knew enough to realize why she chose them. "It's because they mate for life, right?"
Cameron shook her head coolly. "No. It's because even a devoted goose can still find a mate after her first one dies."
Johanna looked up. "We had to do this in school today. I chose a butterfly."
"Because they're so pretty," Wilson asked, but instantly regretted it.
"Nope. Because you can almost always tell apart the ones that can hurt you from the ones that can't. The problem is," she said as she walked out of the elevator, just behind Cameron, "the poisonous ones are always the ones you want to catch."
Perhaps it was telltale that Johanna's last little fact did not surprise Wilson, not in the least.
