Ghost From the Past (6?)
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,838
Disclaimer: I own House. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except season 1 & 2 on DVD and my own insanity.
Summary: In the middle of a case, a figure from Cameron's past arrives, creating complications and confusions in her life.
Author's Note: As I said, this is my first House fanfic. The characters may be very, very OOC. It is possible. I have no medical experience, therefore anything I write is probably very wrong. I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine. No spoilers past season 2. This chapter probably has lots of OOC
Ghost From the Past
Chapter Six: The Other Side of the Coin
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"There you are," House said accusingly as Chase and Foreman entered into the diagnosis room. His attention was on Chase. "Where have you been? And why are you so flushed?"
"Not because I have a bloody fever," Chase answered, slumping down in a chair. "I went to find Cameron."
House looked at him. "I thought we agreed that our resident bleeding heart wasn't going to be a part of this. Especially since she knows the girl's uncle and will feel morally obligated to tell him we're bad, bad men who think his precious little niece is a victim of Munchausen's."
"She still doesn't know," Chase said, unable to shake off the guilt he felt. He had found her, alone and hurting, and she'd wanted him. He'd almost been stupid enough to give in. Instead, he'd held her, kissed her, and soothed her until she fell asleep. He'd paged Foreman, and together they'd set her up in one of the rooms, hopefully in a place where she wouldn't be disturbed. Then they had gone to meet House and Wilson. Typically, House didn't think Cuddy needed to be informed that they suspected that they had a case of Munchausen's by proxy.
"Good. We need to keep it that way," House got to his feet, limping towards the door. "You sure Cameron won't find out?"
"She's asleep," Chase answered, rubbing his forehead.
House turned back to look at him. "She's asleep? Think, Goldilocks. Where's the first place she's going to go when she wakes up?"
"Elizabeth's room." Cameron had wanted to rush there last night even though she had only gotten two hours of sleep. Chase looked at House. House looked at him.
"Wilson's taking Elizabeth for a fake test," House said. "Foreman and I will take care of the room. You make sure that Cameron stays unaware of our sting operation."
Chase had actually wanted to go back to Cameron. He was worried about her. But he didn't let House know that. "I can baby sit Cameron for now, but I can't keep her from finding out forever."
"I know. You're a lousy liar," House said. "But at least you're pretty. Shower. Style your hair. Put on a clean shirt. Go buy one from the gift shop. Try green. She can tell you it matches your eyes."
Chase glared at House. "Cameron isn't stupid. She will know that you've done something. Besides, I can't distract her if I can't go near the patient."
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd bring that up."
"If you think this is Munchausen's by proxy, then why are you keeping me from the patient?" Chase demanded.
"You're still flushed," House said, walking away. "Have Cameron take your temperature. And buy the damn shirt."
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He felt like a bloody moron. Probably because he was. He had to be daft to listen to House on a normal day, but today was worse than usual. After all, the man was convinced that Chase was sick when he wasn't, but Chase was still listening to him. Obeying him. He was in the hospital gift shop, looking for a shirt because House had told him to look for a shirt.
It was official. He was a bloody moron.
He fingered the only real option. Most of the gift shop was devoted to trinkets, stuffed bears, candy, baby gifts, or shirts with sayings or designs on them. He wasn't about to wear a shirt that proclaimed him a proud new papa or a cancer survivor. The one had found was plain green, with "Princeton-Plainsboro" stitched above the pocket. It was also the only collared shirt in the gift shop. His discovery of it was either coincidence or one of House's jokes.
It was his size. House was behind this.
"Dr. Chase," he heard Cuddy say as he put the shirt on the counter. He turned back to face her, forcing a smile.
"Dr. Cuddy."
"You mind telling me why—"
"I'd explain, but I really don't know what is going on with Elizabeth Stanton," Chase was quick to cut her off. Cuddy was on the warpath, and the last thing that he needed was her hounding him. "House has taken it into his head that I have whatever she has and won't let me near her. I spent the day doing research."
He handed the cashier his credit card as Cuddy stared at him. "You look fine. Why does House think you're contagious?"
"I was fatigued," he signed the paper the cashier handed him.
"You worked thirty hours," Cuddy had checked the time charts before she found him. She was looking at House's cases. She suspected something. Chase wondered if she knew where Cameron was. Maybe she was saving that for later, waiting to spring it on him and trap him.
"I had a headache."
"You have a bump and a cut," Cuddy said, taking hold of his chin and examining his forehead. "Did you run into something?"
"I rolled off a couch," he answered, pulling out of her hold.
"You do look flushed," she continued, watching him closely. Suspiciously. House's insistence that Cuddy didn't need to know about the possible MBPS was not worth Cuddy's anger. If the diagnosis was right, then she would hear about it anyway and be even angrier.
"I'm in the gift shop buying a shirt because House wants me to be wants me to be a distraction," Chase told her, taking his bag from the cashier. This was embarrassing. That was why House had made him do it. Chase left the gift shop, heading for the elevator.
"For what? The girl's mother?" Cuddy demanded, following him into the elevator. She pointed a finger at him accusingly. "You think you have a case of MBPS, don't you?"
Chase said nothing. She was right. There was no point in lying. Cuddy put her hands on her hips. "My god, don't you people have any respect for how serious this is? I should have been informed. The police should have been informed."
Chase shrugged. "I don't think that House really believes its MBPS."
Cuddy looked at him. "He still thinks you're sick."
Chase nodded. "But even if I am—and I'm not—that doesn't explain what this is."
"If House knew, he'd insist on treating you," Cuddy agreed. She folded her arms. "Whose idea was the MBPS?"
"Mine."
"What does Foreman think it is?"
"He's still testing for viruses."
"Cameron?"
"She thought it was listeria, but the tests were negative."
"Great," Cuddy muttered. "We have no idea what is wrong with this girl. Is House still giving her antibiotics?"
Chase shook his head. "They were starting to damage her kidneys. We took her off of them a couple hours ago. And the mother was really upset. It convinced House to look for MBPS."
"Where is House?" Cuddy asked as the doors opened. Chase followed her out.
"He and Foreman should have been out of the girl's room by now. Where he went after that is anyone's guess," he turned and headed for the locker room.
Cuddy stopped. "Where are you going?"
"To shower and change," Chase answered. "I'm supposed to look my best."
She was laughing as he walked away.
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Watching her sleep was becoming a habit. Maybe an addiction. He should get used to this, watching her sleep. Her steady, relaxed breathing was soothing. She was at peace, which meant that he could be at peace. In here, it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. No lives waited on their ability to diagnose and cure an illness. No crazy boss waited to humiliate them for his own amusement. No ghosts from the past waited to throw their lives into chaos.
He could get addicted to this very easily. Children of addicts were more likely to develop an addiction, so that made Chase's addiction even more likely. Of course, compared to his mother's, this was healthy.
Only he was pretty sure Cameron wouldn't like it if she knew about it. That would make it very hard to get a fix. He brushed the hair back from her face and ran his fingers over her hand before sitting back in his chair.
"I thought you were the one that was sick, not her."
Chase looked up to see Joe standing in the doorway. He couldn't help his irritation. What was Joe doing here? He should have gone home. Or he should be trying to sleep in the waiting room, not standing in Cameron's doorway.
"I'm not sick," Chase said, getting to his feet. "And she's not, either. She's exhausted."
"You say that like it's my fault."
That's because it is, Chase caught himself thinking. He blamed Joe fro Cameron's distraction, confusion, and exhaustion. She'd been acting differently since she ran into Joe, since she made that damn promise. She was unfocused. She couldn't think straight, but she kept pushing herself. Harder and harder. She'd pushed herself right into a brick wall.
"You care about Cameron, right?" Chase asked, rounding the bed to stand in between Joe and Cameron.
"Yes, I do." Joe folded his arms over his chest defensively.
"She cares about you. She wouldn't have made that promise to save Elizabeth if she didn't. But she can't keep that promise. The more she tries, the more she suffers. So I'm asking you. Do you really care about her?"
"Yes." There was a lot in that one word, and Chase finally understood what he was in the middle of. Cameron might have been married to Joe's best friend, but that hadn't stopped Joe from falling in love with her. Or Cameron from falling in love with Joe.
"If you care about her, you'll leave her alone," Chase told him. "You'll ask Foreman or House for updates. I know you want to know about Elizabeth. But don't ask her. She feels like she failed every time you do."
"Okay. I'll… I'll go back to Elizabeth," Joe nodded, walking away with his head down. He didn't see House standing behind him. House was watching Chase.
Chase folded his arms over his chest. "What do you want?"
"Nice shirt," House said.
"Do you have a point?" Chase added irritably.
"You're flushed," House continued. "Did you have Cameron take your temperature?"
"She hasn't woken up yet," Chase answered. "And it doesn't matter because I haven't got a bloody fever."
"Fifty bucks says you do," House pointed his cane at Chase. "You told Cuddy."
Chase shrugged. No point in denying it. House sighed. "Differential diagnosis. If it's not MBPS, what is it?"
"No idea," Chase admitted. He looked back at Cameron. "Do you want me to wake her?"
"No. Let her sleep. She's useless like this." House limped off to the diagnosis room.
Chase turned back to Cameron. He took a deep breath, leaning over the side of the bed. Watching her was soothing. He kissed her forehead, closing his eyes. It had taken him a while to realize it, but Joe wasn't the only man in love with Allison Cameron.