Thanks to everyone who reviewed after the last chapter. I think that's the most reviews I've ever gotten at once! Obviously, I must give credit for the song lyrics in this chapter (as I did not write it) It's Behind Blue Eyes by The Who.
Chapter 25
House stood, completely unable to move, while hell broke loose around him. Courtney, hearing Cameron announce that she had polio, began crying hysterically. Chase and Foreman, who had watched the entire scene from beyond the glass wall, sprang into action. Chase entered Courtney's room and began to explain her disease, the treatment and her chances for recovery.
Foreman ran to the nurse's station and had Dr. Wilson and Dr. Cuddy paged. Foreman then went to the nearby seating area, where he found Mrs. Pevensee and Mr. Russell. As he explained Courtney's condition, Mr. Russell became every pale. When Foreman finished, Mrs. Pevensee wiped a tear from her face.
"How could she get polio?" she asked.
Foreman didn't answer. Actually, he really didn't know. Cameron and Chase hadn't had the opportunity to fill him in on the details of the case before it happened. Foreman turned to see if Chase was through speaking to Courtney.
"Dr. Chase can probably answer that question better than I can," Foreman began.
"I can answer it," Mr. Russell interrupted.
"Chris?" Mrs. Pevensee questioned.
"I had to go to Nigeria," he started. A look of horror, quickly replaced by a look of such hatred that Foreman took a step backward, flooded Mrs. Pevensee's face.
As the two began a screaming match, Foreman signaled a nurse to call security, just to be safe. Once security arrived, Foreman advised them just to keep an eye on the couple, and returned to Courtney's room.
Chase had succeeded in calming Courtney down. She was still crying, but was no longer hysterical. She wanted her parents. Foreman told her they would be in to see her in just a few minutes.
House still stood. He was completely frozen. His eyes, staring but not really seeing, were trained on the spot where Cameron had stood. The boys just looked at each other, neither really sure of what to do. Finally, Foreman spoke.
"Chase, why don't you go check if Courtney's parents are ready to come in. I'll take care of House."
Chase nodded. Better for Foreman to deal with House. Chase had never cared for the way House treated Cameron. Even though he knew House hadn't meant to hit her, Chase wasn't sure he could trust himself not to reciprocate. Chase left the room without another word.
"House," Foreman said.
House didn't respond. He stood. It was all he could do to keep breathing. His head was filled with a continuous replay of his hand striking Cameron's face. His ears were filled with Cameron's voice, calling him a bastard. It replayed over and over again. His hand struck her face. Bastard. His hand struck her face. Bastard. His hand struck her face. Bastard.
"House," Foreman said again. He reached out and touched his arm, just above the elbow.
The contact was enough to startle House out of his reverie. He closed his eyes, and Foreman was stunned to see a lone tear slip out from beneath his lashes and slide down his cheek. Foreman increased the pressure on House's arm, and gently guided him out of the room.
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Wilson had grabbed hold of House as soon as he exited Courtney's room and hurried him down the hall. Chase had filled him in on what had happened, and he counted his blessings that Cuddy was in a board meeting this morning. He'd beaten Cuddy to the scene, and he knew House needed to get out before Cuddy could get hold of him.
House never said a word, just walked with Wilson as quickly as his now subtle limp would allow. Wilson led House straight into his office, locked the door behind him and pulled the blinds. House stood exactly where Wilson had left him, almost as if he was unable to move under his own power. Wilson put a hand on his back and sort of pushed House to the couch. House sat, not speaking. Wilson took a deep breath, and let it out slowly while running his hands through his hair.
Wilson was very afraid for his friend. He knew that House put up a good front for the world. Most people took his arrogance for just that, arrogance. Mostly people believed that he really thought he was better than everyone else. Wilson knew that wasn't quite true. House's arrogance stemmed from his pride in his abilities, his skill as a doctor. House didn't think he was better than anyone else, just smarter than most people. In truth, House probably disliked himself more than most other people could manage.
Wilson leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He sat and stared at House. House stared at the floor. They sat that way for a long time. Wilson didn't know what to say. He hoped House would speak first. When it became apparent that House was unwilling or unable to speak, Wilson tried.
"Greg," Wilson began. House just shook his head. "Greg, what happened?"
House just shook his head again. He couldn't speak; he was too busy hating himself. For years, he'd told himself that he had control of the Vicodin, not the other way around. Even after the disastrous week he'd spent proving to Cuddy he could do without the Vicodin, he had admitted to being an addict, but not to it being a problem. Any final delusions he'd had about this had just been violently stripped from him. He had no control over this; he barely had control over his own hands. He stared at his hand, the one that had hit Cameron. He regarded this hand as a traitor; he looked at it as if it belonged to someone else.
A soft knock at the door startled both men. House looked up at Wilson with something remarkably like pleading in his eyes. He didn't want to see Cuddy, or the boys. Wilson nodded.
"I'll do the best I can," Wilson said. He opened the door, fully expecting to see Cuddy. He did not.
"I should have realized Cuddy wouldn't knock softly," Wilson remarked. He looked over his shoulder at House. "I'll be right outside if you need me." Wilson stepped out and allowed the visitor to enter.
House looked up from the couch, and his breath caught in his throat.
"You okay?" Cameron asked.
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House stared at Cameron, dumbfounded. He couldn't quite look her in the eyes. He was afraid. Afraid to see anger, afraid to see hate, but mostly, afraid to see pity. Cameron kneeled down on the floor in front of House. He turned his head away; he didn't want to look at her. Cameron reached out a hand and took his chin, turning his head to look at her. He gave in, and looked in her eyes. He saw something else. Understanding?
"I don't want to talk about this here," Cameron said. "I'm going to tell you a story. When I'm done, you can decide what comes next. I can help you, but only if you want it." House opened his mouth to try to say something, but Cameron placed a finger on his lips. "No, me first. Let Wilson take you home. I'll see you at eight. You owe me a movie, remember?"
Cameron got up and left the room, not giving him the opportunity to refuse her. She stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against the wall and took a deep, shaky breath.
"Can you take him home?" Cameron asked Wilson.
"Sure. Allison, what happened?" Wilson was concerned about her as well.
"It's a long story. I'll tell it to you tomorrow," she smiled a small smile at him, "you can buy me lunch." Wilson smirked and rolled his eyes at her. "Don't leave him alone, Jimmy, okay? I'll be there around eight."
"Allison, are you sure you want to do that?" Wilson asked.
"Of course, why not?" Cameron countered. Hesitating, Wilson pointed to the bruise beginning to form on Cameron's cheek.
"That's nothing," Cameron replied. "Look, I've got to go talk to Cuddy before she decides to fire him. Just get him home, and don't let him do anything stupid, okay?"
"Nothing?" Wilson said. As he followed Cameron to the elevators, he began to wonder if House hadn't been a little bit right about Cameron. It seemed like she was purposely putting herself into a relationship where she was doomed to get hurt.
"Nothing," Cameron repeated. "Jimmy, you just have no idea what we're capable of." The elevator door opened and Cameron stepped in.
"What who is capable of? Wait, who's we?" Wilson asked, not following what she'd said.
"Drug addicts." Cameron answered, as the doors closed between them.
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Wilson followed House into House's apartment. House still hadn't spoken, but at least had regained the ability to move under his own power. He walked straight to his entertainment center, and began pawing through the shelves, looking for a particular CD. At last, finding what he had been searching for, he put the CD in the player and pushed a few buttons. Wilson recognized The Who, but was surprised by House's song choice. Behind Blue Eyes, Wilson thought.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
House sat on the couch, head back, eyes closed, and let the lyrics and the music wash over him.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
Secretly, he'd found this song an astounding assessment of himself since the infarction. He really felt like no one, not even Wilson or Stacy, ever really understood him. When the song ended, the CD player fell silent.
Wilson sat on the couch next to House. They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes.
"So, how've you been?" Wilson asked, inanely.
House rolled his head toward Wilson. Wilson stared back.
"What, no small talk?" Wilson asked. He was trying to lighten the mood. He certainly wasn't going to sit here and let House wallow in self-pity until Cameron showed up.
"So," Wilson tried another tack, "Cuddy wants a baby."
House raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.
"Of course, you already knew that. Jerk. I can't believe you didn't tell me that's what that date was all about." Wilson glanced at House again. House merely shrugged.
"She didn't seem like she really wanted to tell me, but apparently after you got shot she spent a few weeks giving herself the hormone injections. Not the easiest thing to do, I suppose. Then, with the therapy and all that, she decided she needed some help and I guess she figured Dr. Quigley would be torturing you enough, so she asked me if I could do it for her." Wilson paused, again glancing at House for some sort of a reaction. Nothing. "Nice ass she's got."
At this, Wilson swore he saw the smallest of smirks on House's lips. Encouraged, he continued.
"Of course, I offered to help her go through potential donor files and all that. She seemed a little embarrassed at first. I guess she assumed you'd told me she was considering asking me. She still hasn't though." Wilson stretched. "I probably would have done it, but personally, I'd rather get knock her up the old-fashioned way. Seems like such a shame to waste that ass on hormone injections."
At this, House definitely smirked. Wilson smiled; he knew House couldn't resist a crass Cuddy joke. House put his feet up on the coffee table and reached for the TV remote. He flipped through the channels until he found a ballgame, and settled back into the couch. Wilson got up and went to the kitchen, returning with a beer for each of them.
The boys sat and watched the game.
Promptly at eight, there was a knock at the door. House immediately clicked off the TV, but remained on the couch. Wilson got up to answer the door. As he opened it, he glanced back to see House had once more closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch. Instead of letting Cameron in, Wilson stepped into the hall for a quick consult.
"How is he?" Cameron asked.
"He's okay. Quiet. That's a little creepy. I can't remember the last time House had nothing to say about a baseball game. But he's not rending his garments or anything along those lines." Wilson wasn't really sure he wanted to leave the two of them alone.
"Jimmy, we'll be fine." Cameron said.
"Did House teach you how to do that?" At Cameron's questioning glance, Wilson continued. "Read minds, I mean."
"No, it's written all over your face. You might as well hold up a sign that says 'I think this is a bad idea'. Listen, I promise I'll give the full story tomorrow, but here's the abridged version. I know exactly, and I mean exactly, what he is going through right now. I know he didn't mean it; he wouldn't have been able to stop himself if he'd tried. Just trust me, Jimmy." Cameron looked at Wilson with a resolution in her eyes he'd not seen before. He nodded his head.
"Okay. I'm going home." Wilson reached in his wallet and handed Cameron a card. "That's my cell. Call me if you need me. Anytime. I mean it, Allison." He gave her a quick hug, and left her standing in the hall outside House's door.
