Chapter 23

Chase had drawn the short straw to stay at the hospital and monitor Courtney over night. Cameron gathered up her things and went home. She knew House was right, and she should try to put the case out of her mind, but she just couldn't. The answer was right in front of her; she just couldn't see it.

After a weary drive home, Cameron unlocked her apartment and dropped her things on a table just inside the doorway. She went into her bedroom and grabbed a tank-top shirt and pajama bottoms from her drawers. She changed quickly, and came back into the living room. She sat at the small desk in the corner of the room and flipped on her computer. Ten minutes later she was so engrossed in researching seizures in patients with West Nile that she barely heard the knocking at the door.

"Cameron!" A familiar voice shouted from the hall.

Startled, Cameron got up and went to the door. Checking the peephole, she saw House standing on her doorstep. He was holding a pair of plastic shopping bags. Confused, Cameron opened the door.

"House, what are you doing here?" Cameron asked.

House looked Cameron up and down. Apparently, she'd forgotten what she was wearing. House was quite certain he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon, however. She had on a pale green tank-top shirt, just tight enough to be interesting and short enough to not quite reach the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Her pajama bottoms, white with pale blue and green stripes, were of the drawstring variety, and House could see she'd neglected to tie the string when she'd changed. Not having much in the way of hips to hold them up, the bottoms had slipped down slightly on one side, revealing the very top of a pair of lacy panties. House couldn't suppress a lecherous smirk from passing over him.

Cameron caught the expression on his face, and looked down at herself. Gasping, she stepped back behind the door, blocking House's view.

"What are you doing here?" Cameron repeated.

"Making sure you eat dinner, and trying to teach you how to stop thinking about something that's frustrating you," House replied. "Dinner," House said, holding up one of the bags. "And a distraction," he continued, holding up the other bag.

Cameron motioned for him to come in, and House stepped inside. The apartment was small, but cozy. While House looked around the living room, Cameron made a dash for the bedroom to grab a slightly less revealing t-shirt. Coming back out, she saw House was no longer in the living room.

"House?" she called out.

"In the kitchen," House said. Cameron could hear rattling sounds, and realized he must be looking for dishes. She entered the kitchen to help, noticing the disappointed look on his face that she was wearing a large t-shirt.

Cameron put two plates on the table, and reached into a drawer for forks and serving spoons, while House took out carton after carton of Chinese food.

"How many people did you think you were feeding?" Cameron asked, chuckling.

"Well, I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I sort of ordered one of everything." House gave Cameron a sheepish grin. "Actually, the only real food I've ever seen you eat was that pizza. If you call pizza with goat cheese real food." House made a face.

Cameron laughed. House outside of work was different. Sarcastic, yes, but not so overbearing. She supposed this must be what he's like when he's with Wilson. She paused in dishing food onto their plates. Did he miss Wilson? Was that why he was suddenly interested in spending time with her? This made twice in the past two weeks. Cameron shook her head. Did it really matter why?

Cameron handed him a plate piled high with food, and took the other, remarkably less full, for herself. She walked out to the living room and paused.

"Dining room table?" She asked.

"Are we allowed to eat in front of the TV, mom?" House quipped.

"Sure, why? Oh, my distraction," she replied, catching on. "So, what is it?"

House sat on the couch, placed his plate on the coffee table and reached into the other plastic bag he'd brought with him. He withdrew a DVD, but refused to let Cameron see it.

"Please tell me you have a DVD player," House said.

"I have one. I don't use it much, but I have one." Cameron replied. "What are we watching?"

House wiggled the DVD at her, before getting up from the couch to start their entertainment for the evening.

"Jeeves & Wooster?" Cameron asked.

"I know we were supposed to watch this tomorrow night," House said, sitting back on the couch and picking up his plate, "but it was the best distraction I could come up with. We can watch something else tomorrow." As House finished, he paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He just invited her over again. What the hell was wrong with him?

Cameron allowed herself a small smile. He'd invited her over again. He seemed surprised, too.

A few hours later, the DVD ended and House looked over to see that Cameron had fallen asleep on the couch. He checked his watch to see it was just past midnight. He stood up and stretched; he gathered up the dirty dishes, brought them into the kitchen and rinsed them in the sink. He considered washing them for a second, but decided against it.

House walked back into the living room to grab his jacket and DVD, and paused to watch Cameron sleeping on the couch. As he stood watching her, he noticed her shivering slightly in her sleep. Scanning the room, he saw a throw blanket tossed on an armchair in the corner of the room. He brought the blanket to the couch to cover her with it.

Draping the blanket over her legs, and bringing it up to cover her arms, House heard her mumbling something. He leaned closed, trying to make out what she was saying. She mumbled again; he didn't get most of the words, but distinctly heard a 'Greg', and then a soft moan. House grinned. He touched her hair lightly, so as not to wake her, and quietly slipped out of the apartment.

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Cameron arrived earlier than normal at the hospital the next morning, which was really an ungodly hour, more determined than before to figure out what was wrong with Courtney. She'd had a dream during the night; a recurring dream that she thought she'd gotten over years before. In the dream she was very young, barely two years old. She was in the hospital with her mother, and an older girl that she sort of recognized, but her father was nowhere to be seen. The older girl was in the hospital bed; she looked very sick and very tired. Her mother was crying and stroking the girl's hair. Then the girl was gone, and her mother was sitting in a hallway, crying and crying. Her father showed up, and her parents began screaming at each other. Then her father left, and her mother collapsed and Cameron was left alone.

When she'd woken up, she realized why she wanted this case so badly. Courtney reminded her of her older sister, Emily, who had died before Cameron was out of diapers. Cameron had been plagued by that dream most of her childhood. Her mother and father never spoke about Emily. Whenever Cameron would ask either of them about the dream, her mother would cry and lock herself in her room and her father would leave the house, sometimes not coming back for days.

It wasn't until high school, after Cameron had gotten into some pretty serious trouble with drugs and been forced into therapy, that she realized what the dream was about. With her therapist, she'd confronted her parents about it, and they'd admitted that she'd had an older sister who had died of cancer shortly before Cameron's second birthday. For years, she had been denied even knowing about her. It was one of the reasons Cameron had such a hard time telling families that their loved one was dying. How could she, when her own parents couldn't tell her the truth about her sister?

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House arrived at the hospital even later than usual, which was really an obscene hour to show up for work, feeling terrible. Driving home from Cameron's apartment the night before, he'd suddenly been wracked with a tremendous need for a Vicodin. He'd pulled his motorcycle over quickly, barely making it to the side of the road before vomiting. Shaking and sweating, he'd reached into his pocket and taken two Vicodin, twice what his normal dose was supposed to be. The night had continued in much the same way, with shakes, sweating and nausea plaguing him until the early hours of the morning, when he'd finally taken four Vicodin and been able to fall asleep.

When he entered his office, it was blessedly empty and quiet, as was the conference room. He lay down on the couch, hoping for a nap, when Chase and Foreman entered.

"House, nice of you to join us," Foreman quipped. A quick look at the expression on House's face squelched his next comment.

"Courtney's paralysis is ascending," Chase advised him. "It's slow, but definitely moving further up her legs."

"Where's Cameron?" House asked.

"She's in the lab, going over the test results." Foreman answered, just as Cameron came in the door.

"The results are negative for West Nile and inconclusive for Guillan-Barre." Cameron said. "House, you okay?" she asked, with evident concern.

"Peachy." House said. Cameron and Chase exchanged a look. "My hooker brought over some new little pills last night, kept me up forever. You know how that is, don't you Chase?"

Cameron closed her eyes and tried really hard to control her anger. She didn't want to get into a battle with House over this. She knew he was disappointed she'd slept with Chase, although of all people to judge them, she let the thought drift away. And the fact that he'd rather the boys think he'd spent a drugged out night with a hooker than watching TV on her couch didn't help her mood.

"Start her on the treatment for Guillan-Barre," House said.

"House, the results were inconclusive," Cameron repeated.

"Yes, but the results for West Nile were negative. Inconclusive is closer to positive than negative," House paused and shook his head. "You know what I mean. It's the closest thing we have to a diagnosis, go with it."

"House, what if the stomach flu she had was really the beginning of the West Nile virus. That was almost two weeks ago. The virus itself would be out of her bloodstream by now, but still affecting her." Cameron argued.

"Fine, then start her on the West Nile treatment," House countered.

"If we start her on that treatment, and we're wrong, the paralysis will spread even faster," Foreman warned.

"Well, if that happens then we'll know we were wrong and we can switch to the treatment for Guillan-Barre." House said. This was beginning to give him a headache. He reached in his pocket for his Vicodin and his pager began beeping. The ducklings reached for theirs as well, but only House was being paged.

"Shit," he swore under his breath. He swallowed one Vicodin, and turned to the team. "I'm late for therapy. Start the West Nile treatment, I'll check with you in an hour." He walked out of the room.