Yay! Chapter three is here!


Greg House rubbed his forehead quite painfully, staring almost endlessly at the Dry-Erase board in front of him. So far, all he had written on it was:

Allison Melissa Cameron

Easily startled

Memory loss

102.3 fever

He didn't turn around when he heard the door open and two people walked in. He was pretty much oblivious. Still, staring at the board, he had to ask, "Anything new?"

"No," the familiar voice of Foreman sighed. "She's still the same as when we got her from her apartment."

"Does she remember anybody yet, though?"

"Nope," Wilson's voice cut in. "She can't remember anything she did prior to the fall, House, much less us!"

House sighed deeply and continued to stare at the board. "I only have three start—ups," he muttered.

"So?" Foreman shrugged. "Isn't that how we usually start all of our cases?"

House whirled around. "With no possible reasons or guesses on what's happening to her so far!" he snapped, grabbing his cane and storming out his office.

"Where are you going?" Wilson called out after him.

"To get answers."

"You can't force them out of her! She's sick, for God's sake!" Wilson tried to stop him, but watched as House continued on without looking back or even so much as a snide remark.

"Think he's upset?" Foreman asked.

Wilson shook his head. "House doesn't get upset…he gets frustrated and angry…."


House limped inside Allison's room; already surprised at the many machines she was connected to.

He wasted no time in getting any answers and didn't cut corners to get to the point. "Allison—"

"How—do you know my name?" she asked, still clearly confused.

House ignored her question and pressed on, "Do you know who I am or not? That's the first question I'm asking you upon homework loads more."

"No, I don't!" Allison said forcefully. "Where am I?"

House tried to make eye contact with her. "Princeton Plainsboro Hospital. You work here currently, yet as of now, you're a patient."

Allison looked at him. "I—do?"

House nodded. "Yes—you do. Now, do you remember what happened when you work up this morning at your apartment?" he was trying to bring something back to her mind. Anything at all.

"No….what DID happen, um…"

"House. Doctor House, but people around here just call me House. You'll get used to it, I'm sure in…." he looked at his watch, "About five seconds."

Allison looked like she was trying to remember something. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I found you on the second flight of stairs knocked unconscious…" he stopped and watched Allison's eyes widen, then continued on, "When you woke up, however, you were on a stretcher, ready to be brought into an ambulance. Yet, like I said, when you woke up, things went wild. You were screaming, struggling, and Wilson—"

"Who?"

"Doctor James Wilson…he works here to. With you and me," House was trying to swallow his impatience. "Now," he continued, popping two Vicodin pills and downing them, "where was I? Oh, yeah...he had to use restraints on you to keep you down. Once that happened, you tried getting out of them. But, within the last two seconds, you were fine. You were calm, yet you didn't remember a thing."

Allison seemed to be thinking hard, rather than listening to him. "Wait—wait…I know that name…." She lifted her eyes and looked at him. "Doctor Gregory House, best diagnostician in Jersey…and my boss with horrible bedside manner…."she said slowly, yet seemed to be remembering.

House sucked in his breath and watched her. This was unreal. She was remembering everything and everybody…but how?

"And—I…this morning, I was feeling really, really sick. Like I was on fire with a fever or something. I threw up after forcing myself out of bed, got dressed, and headed downstairs. Everything was then getting fuzzy and I started spinning…then, I blacked out…"

House was pretty much dumbstruck. "You JUST remembered all that?"

Allison nodded. "Yeah—I…" her face looked confused again. "St—stop spinning," she said suddenly.

Now, it was House's turn to be confused slightly. He was standing right in front of her—standing completely still. "I'm--not moving, Cameron."

Allison reached out her hand and House stuck out the handle of his cane for her to grab onto…testing a theory that had just slipped into his mind. "House…" she groped in front of her to reach the silver handle. "Why are you so—"

"Far away?" House interrupted.

"Yeah…" Allison kept reaching and groping for the handle like a blind child. "Like ten feet away and spinning really fast."

"Your brain's not responding correctly after the impact of the fall," House mumbled to himself. "Everything's distant, blurry...and screwed up."

"House…" Allison's voice started sounding frantic as the hand she was groping with started twitching uncontrollably. "Greg!"

House grabbed her groping hand as she started to hyperventilate violently. "Cameron! Cameron!"

She wasn't really responding and got thrown into a major seizure fit, her heart monitor going absolutely wild.

Letting go of her hand, House gabbed his beeper, calling Wilson, Chase, and Foreman for immediate help.

Allison was writhing, twitching, and shaking horribly and uncontrollably in bed, and House grabbed a thermometer and stuck it forcefully in her mouth as another theory entered his mind. He watched steadily as it rose up to 104.2 and cursed to himself.

"She's having a fever seizure…"


Buh-bye!

JayJay!