A/N: Well here's chapter two. Much thanks to those who've reviewed. Please review, it makes me happy! This one's a bit shorter than chapter one, but it's the beginning of my main plot. Tell a friend! Just in case you're curious, WF Syndrome is real, much thanks to an infectious disease tutorial I ran across from the Indiana University School of Medicine.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I still don't own House. But when I take over the world, that will be my first order of business. Muhahaha!

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The doctors spent the week busy on the new case, running tests and brainstorming until House, as always, came up with the correct diagnosis of Waterhause-Friderichsen Syndrome. They treated Evan with antibiotics and steroids and sent him on his way.

It had been Cuddy's idea to get together that evening, at a little pool hall a couple of blocks away from the hospital called Mugs. "I come here every week with my sister. The owners are cool, they'll let us have a table for free." She said as they crowded in through the door. As the group of them settled at a table near the back, Wilson piped up.

"First things first; Cameron, you have any quarters? Let's go hit the jukebox." They headed over to the neon-rimmed box and flipped through the songs.

"So," started Cameron, "Is this what House was like when you met him? He's been…almost…cheerful, at times."

Wilson thought for a moment, "I…wouldn't use the word cheerful. But I guess he was happier. His jokes weren't always sarcastic. In fact, he was in drama in college, putting on comedies, of course. There," he said, making his last selection on the jukebox. Just then, Cameron's cell phone rang. She looked down, surprised to see that it was her brother.

"Go ahead and go back to the table," she said to Wilson. "I gotta take this." She stepped outside where it was a little quieter than the bar.

"Nick?" She answered her phone with the slightest hint of worry.

"Allison, where are you? I've been calling you at home all day." He said with a rush.

"Sorry, we went straight out after work." She hadn't turned on her phone until they'd arrived at the bar since she had to keep it off at the hospital. "What's up?"

"It..it's mom," he paused. "She's…gone."

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After the shock wore off and tears dried up for a moment, Cameron said goodbye to her brother, telling him she'd call him as soon as she got a flight. She slid down and sat on the sidewalk, laying her head in her hands.

Foreman had noticed her do this and slipped outside to see what was the matter.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, as she looked up at him and blinked.

"No," she whispered. "Can you do me a favor and grab my stuff for me? Just tell everyone I'm not feeling good. I need to go home."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asked sincerely.

She closed her eyes. "My mom, she's dead." Saying it out loud felt strange, as if she were in a dream. "Don't tell anyone, especially not House. I'll need to leave in the morning; I'll call Cuddy later. I just…I can't go back in there."

Foreman nodded with understanding and went back inside.

House had gotten impatient and was dividing up teams. "Okay, girls against men. Chase, you have pretty hair, you're on the girls' team," he said straight-faced.

Chase rolled his eyes and went for a cue stick. "Yeah, House, thanks," though he did give a little smirk.

As Foreman went for Cameron's purse and keys, Wilson set his beer down mid-sip. "Wait, what's going on? Who called her?"

Foreman sighed. "I don't know, but she says she doesn't feel good and needs to go home."

Cuddy stepped forward. "Does she need anything? Can she get herself home?" Cameron had become like a little sister to her over the last couple of months.

"Yeah, I think so," Foreman replied. "She said she'd call you…if she needed to take tomorrow off." He finished the lie.

During this conversation, House had been observing quietly. He had seen Cameron answer her phone at the jukebox and head outside. He knew how little her cell phone rang, especially considering the fact that most of the people who would call her were here playing pool. That pretty much left her best friend, who lived in Oregon, or one of her family members. Something was up. Difficult as it was, he let it go for about an hour before he claimed Steve needed to be fed and left.

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Cameron had popped Ani DiFranco into her stereo as soon as she got home and listened with the occasional tear sliding down her cheek as shesearchedfora flight online. She found one for 6:30 in the morning and booked it. Looking at the clock, that gave her roughly five hours to get ready, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep at all that night. She called a cab to pick her up at four and started packing.

As she stepped out of the shower, she heard the familiar rap on her front door.

"I'm coming with you," was the first thing out of his mouth.

"House," she protested. "This is not something I want to share with you. Wait a second, how do you know I'm going anywhere?"

"Because I know you better than you think, Allison." He said her name. "You're not sick, you're never sick. And besides, if you're not going anywhere, then what's that big blue duffel bag full of your clothes doing right there?" He pointed at the open bag sitting at the base of the stairs.

Knowing House wasn't about to let her tell him no, she called the cab company to cancel and then sat in her favorite chair, not knowing what to do next. Secretly, she was grateful that he was willing to be there for her without even asking what she was leaving for.

Seeing that she had just booked her flight, House booked another one for himself. "You're going home," he said, with an upturn in his voice.

"Yeah," she started to cry again. "My, uh, my mom, she just died this morning. The phone call was from my brother."

House nodded, much as Foreman had earlier, and went to make some coffee for the both of them. He'd been through enough in his own life to know when someone didn't want to talk, so he kept himself busy making sure Cameron had everything she needed packed in her bag and tidying up her apartment so it wouldn't be a mess when she returned. She finally gave a little laugh as she came into the kitchen and caught him recording a new message on her answering machine.

"…so leave a message, and don't hold your breath." He finished.

"Thanks," she said with a sigh. "I guess you need to go home and pack if you're coming with me." She said.

"Nonsense, that's what Wilson's for. Besides, he doesn't have a wife anymore to get pissed when I call him in the middle of the night." He smirked as they heard the gate squeak open and a cautious knock on the door.

Wilson hugged her before he said anything, and then turned to hand House his bag. "I'm sorry, I know you wanted to keep things quiet, but you know House," he explained. "I, however, won't tell anyone anything, unless you want me to."

Cameron thought for a second and said, "No, I guess it's going to come out sometime. Foreman knows already, I'm sure he'll tell Chase tomorrow, and I'll give Cuddy a call before we leave. But if anyone else from work asks, just tell them it's personal. I appreciate it, Wilson." They hugged again and Wilson headed back home.

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The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. Cameron fell asleep on the plane, exhausted, before they even left the gate. House put on his Ipod and fell asleep himself shortly after takeoff. He dreamed again.

'What's on your mind, House?' Wilson asked. They stood on their office balcony again. 'How can she be so strong now, yet…so fragile?' House turned to look at his friend. 'Because,' Wilson said without pause, 'she's just like you. She's human.' As Wilson walked back into his office, House turned again and saw the ocean. Cameron was standing at the edge of the surf, barefoot. As in dreams gone before, the sun was setting against her silhouette, and he slowly pulled off his shoes to join her. She turned and smiled at the sight of him, barefoot. 'I thought you'd never let go,' she said.