Chapter 29
Chase had finished the patient history and was in the lab with Foreman, waiting for results from their blood tests. Both Chase and Foreman were avoiding going back to the conference room. Neither wanted to run into House.
"I can't believe he wouldn't apologize," Chase finally said. "He's such a bastard."
"Does it surprise you?" Foreman asked, angrily. He was still upset that House had brought up what had happened between him and Cameron. He had apologized; House just seemed to have conveniently forgotten about it. Or maybe, he felt like Cameron did, and thought an apology on your deathbed wasn't worth as much as an unprompted one.
"I guess it shouldn't, but I never saw House as the type to hit a woman," Chase replied. "Do you think his withdrawal is really that bad?"
"Are you kidding?" Foreman asked. "Don't you remember the week he went off the Vicodin to win that bet with Cuddy? He broke his own hand just to get a little pain relief. That seems like a pretty good example to me."
"Or maybe he didn't want to talk about it in front of the two of you?" Cameron's voice said from behind, startling the both of them. Chase looked embarrassed, but Foreman just shook his head. "We settled it privately, okay?"
"Whatever," Foreman replied. Chase remained silent. The silence was becoming awkward when the test results began printing. Foreman grabbed the results and went to the conference room, the other two ducklings following.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"He's still anemic; it's not an iron deficiency. And he's not malnourished, so the leg spasms aren't being caused by a lack of potassium," Foreman told House.
"Adam said he's lost some weight in the last few weeks, but wouldn't cop to any sort of eating disorder. He says he's just lost his appetite," Chase added.
"How much weight?" House asked.
"Five or six pounds," Chase replied.
"Not enough for this to be just dietary. Nice try though, maybe next time you'll get the brass ring," House snarked at Chase, while adding loss of appetite to the board.
"Okay, kiddies, what else causes anemia in a 17 year old?" House asked. "Come on now, don't be shy."
"What about alcohol?" Chase asked.
"He's a little young for that, isn't he?" Cameron asked.
"Oh, Dr. Cameron, ever the starry-eyed optimist. He's 17. Do you remember what you were doing at 17?" House asked. He saw Cameron stiffen, and mentally kicked himself. "Well, I'm sure I remember having a drink or two before I turned 21. Not everyone can be as innocent as you." Cameron relaxed, realizing he was just making a point.
"I'm just saying he'd have to be a pretty serious drinker to cause himself this much damage. Don't you think the parents would have noticed?" Cameron asked.
"Maybe. Maybe not. I guess that depends on whether they're idiots or not. Hmm, a parent who doesn't know everything their teenaged son is doing. How likely do you suppose that is?" House chided. "What else?"
"Depression," Cameron suggested.
"Depression wouldn't cause anemia," Foreman said.
"No, but an anti-depressant could. Or, he could be drinking and taking a lot of aspirin or other pain killer. Prolonged use can cause anemia, and depression can manifest itself with physical symptoms like fatigue and pain." Cameron said.
"How about HIV or hepatitis?" Foreman suggested. "He's seventeen, he's probably sexually active. Either of those two is likely."
"Okay," House said. "Foreman, test him for hepatitis and HIV. Chase, do an ultrasound of his liver. Cameron, get a psych consult to rule out depression." House went into his office and sat on the couch. He checked his watch and closed his eyes. He had exactly 18 Vicodin left. He figured he could get by for an absolute minimum of three a day. So, in six days it was either go cold turkey, or find a new source. At this moment, his hands showing the slightest tremble and a headache pounding out a dance beat in his head, he was strongly leaning toward a new source.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House was still sitting on the couch in his office when the ducklings all wandered back in. None of them had particularly helpful news.
"Test was negative for HIV. The hepatitis test was inconclusive, it has to be run again." Foreman reported.
"The psych consult showed no signs of depression," Cameron added.
"Chase, what have you got for me?" House asked.
"No signs of cirrhosis, but the liver is slightly enlarged," Chase answered.
"Okay, enlarged liver," House added the new symptom to the board.
"What about CMV?" Cameron suggested.
"No rash, or fever," House said.
"Epstein-Bar," Foreman suggested.
"Doesn't explain the muscle spasms," Chase countered.
"Niemann-Pick," Cameron offered.
House tilted his head and stared at the board.
"Explains the anemia, the platelet count, fatigue" House's voice trailed off.
"And it could explain the leg spasms, if there are fatty deposits in the right spots on the brain," Foreman continued.
"Okay, start treating him for Niemann-Pick while we get the tests. I know, I know we should confirm the diagnosis, blah, blah. Treatment's quicker." House waved his hand to indicate he was done with them. As they shuffled out of the office, House called Cameron back.
"Busy tonight?"
"What did you have in mind?" Cameron asked.
"Well, what I have in mind and what you'd agree to are probably two different things. How about a movie?" House asked.
"Okay, your place?"
"6:30," House replied. "And I'll take care of dinner."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Cameron arrived at House's apartment about fifteen minutes early. She was just about to knock on the door when she realized the music she was hearing was coming from inside. She stopped, listening. She knew House played the piano of course, but had never really heard him. He was amazing. She just stood outside his door and listened. She stood and listened for about ten minutes, until an older couple checking their mail gave her an odd look. She knocked on the door and the music stopped.
"It's open, come on in," House called, getting up from the piano. Cameron opened the door and saw him.
"You don't have to stop playing on my account," she said as she took off her coat.
"I don't really like playing for an audience," House replied.
"That's a shame," Cameron said. "An audience would really appreciate it."
House raised an eyebrow at her.
"You were listening."
"I was early."
House nodded and motioned toward the kitchen. Cameron looked at him questioningly, but went into the kitchen. She came back out with an amazed look.
"You cooked."
"You thought I didn't know how?" House smirked at her.
"I've seen what's in your refrigerator and your cabinets. I sort of assumed you lived on soup and peanut butter," Cameron replied.
"Cooking for one person is too much work," House answered simply.
"Is it edible?" Cameron asked, playfully.
House made a face at her, and went into the kitchen. He served their dinner, a simple stir-fry and rice, and pushed Cameron back toward the living room. He sat on the couch and she followed. House grabbed the remote control and pushed a few buttons.
"What are we watching?" Cameron asked.
"Sshh, you'll miss something," House answered.
"It's the FBI warning," Cameron countered. "What are we watching?"
House just shook his head at her. Cameron rolled her eyes in frustration, and tentatively took a bite of her dinner. She was surprised to find it was actually quite good. House was watching her; she looked at him and grinned. House gave a satisfied nod and began eating as well. Just then, the previews ended and the movie began.
"Ferris Bueller's Day Off?" Cameron sputtered.
"What, you don't like this?" House asked.
"No, I think it's hilarious. I just didn't think you'd like it." Cameron replied.
"Too juvenile? No, that can't be it. Too outrageous? Probably not that either. You think I wouldn't like a move about an arrogant character who bucks the system and plays by his own rules? Yes, I can see why you think I wouldn't like this." House gave her his 'duh' face.
"Sorry, I guess I'm just not used to you wanting to, you know, laugh and have fun," Cameron replied, dryly.
"Hey, I'm tons of fun. Just ask Wilson about the time I made him wet his pants." House said.
"You did not," Cameron said.
"Putting somebody's hand in warm water while they're sleeping actually works," House replied. He intentionally kept his face serious, and then grinned at Cameron's reaction. She was giggling, like a teenager. It was adorable.
They watched the rest of the movie in relative silence, punctured only by chuckles, giggles and one spectacular laughing fit on Cameron's part that led to a pretty good laugh from House as well. When it was over, Cameron decided this was her new favorite movie. Anything that could make House's eyes dance like that was worth watching over and over. House decided next time he'd rent something really ridiculous, like maybe Airplane! or The Naked Gun, if it would make Cameron relax and laugh like that.
She turned to make a comment to him about how nice it was to see him laughing at the same moment he turned to snark at her that she'd finally unclenched. Their eyes locked, and neither of them could speak. They stared at each other, both searching for something. The air in the room seemed to thicken. There was tension mounting, but neither of them was capable of breaking it.
