Ghost From the Past (8?)

Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,618
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.

Ghost From the Past
Chapter Eight: The Triangle Squared
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"Congratulations, your daughter is cured," House announced, coming into Elizabeth's room. He went to her IV and injected a syringe. The Stantons looked at their daughter, who was still on the respirator, her eyes closed. She didn't look cured. Foreman looked at House. What was he up to now?

"It was a virus," House continued. "Thanks to Dr. Foreman here, she should be well enough to take off the respirator in a few hours, and then she can go home."

"House—" Foreman began, but House left as quickly as he had come. Cursing, Foreman followed him. "House, what are you doing? That girl's not cured. We can't take her off the respirator. She'll die."

"I know that," House answered. "But they don't."

Foreman frowned. "You're telling them that their daughter is cured, that we're sending her home—"

"Think, Foreman," House interrupted. "If Chase was right, and this is a case of Munchausen's by proxy, how are we going to prove it? As long as we don't know what's wrong, there's no reason for anyone to slip her a mickey."

"But if she gets better, they'll have to make her sick again," Foreman finished. He nodded. "It's a good theory."

"Of course it is. We should see something this afternoon," House said, walking into his office. He pushed through the papers on his desk, moving them aside as he searched.

"I thought you didn't think that Chase was right," Foreman said.

"I don't. Which is why I want to speed this up. That way we don't have to waste any more time on a stupid idea."

"Right," Foreman agreed with a little sarcasm. House found the file he was looking for and opened it. Rolling his eyes, Foreman started to leave.

"Whoa, wait a minute," House said, closing the file. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To run some more tests," Foreman said like it was obvious. Because it was obvious. All he had done lately was run tests for viruses.

"No. You're going to baby sit our little girl. Keep an eye on the security feed. We don't want anyone to kill her, now do we?"

House picked up his cane and started towards the door. Foreman turned to him. "If this is Chase's theory, and you won't let him near the patient anyway, why do I have to monitor the security video?"

"Because Chase is still in the clinic," House answered. Under his breath, he added something that sounded suspiciously like, "at least I hope he's still there."

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It was lunch. In the hospital cafeteria. They weren't even leaving the grounds. It wasn't a date. That was how she justified it to herself. She had to eat, and she had to talk to Joe. She was just killing two birds with one stone. She felt guilty.

She was guilty.

With an uncomfortable smile, she extracted her hand from Joe's hold. She picked up her fork and stabbed it into a few pieces of lettuce. She didn't bring the food to her mouth. The fork was a safety net. "Joe, I need to talk to you."

He smiled. "I'm glad you agreed to lunch."

"Joe, this isn't what you think it is," Cameron began, shaking her head. "I have to—I feel like I need to set some boundaries."

"Boundaries?" he asked defensively. "I know you're Elizabeth's doctor. I know you're working, and I promised that other doctor that I'd ask someone else for updates. I don't want to pressure you."

"You promised what other doctor? Did House—?"

"It wasn't House, though I don't know why you work for him," Joe told her. He reached for her hand, but she quickly grabbed her water and took a sip. "It was that other one. The one that was at your apartment."

Cameron set her water back down. She didn't know who she was angrier with, Joe or Chase. Chase had no right to ask Joe for that promise, but then Joe had no right to act like a jealous boyfriend. They weren't dating. And Chase had a name.

"I work for House because I respect him," she said, not missing Joe's derisive look. "And Chase had no right to ask you that."

"He's very protective of you," Joe continued.

"So are you," she snapped, setting down her fork in anger. "Joe, I agreed to lunch because we needed to talk. You can't be doing this. Right now, I'm Elizabeth's doctor; you're her uncle. That's all. We should only talk about her condition. Anything else, if there is anything else, should wait until after she's cured."

"Allison—"

"Joe, we haven't seen each other in five years. And you're acting like—"

"Joe!" a voice interrupted them, and Cameron looked up to see a smartly dressed blonde in a rain soaked jacket making her way towards them. She was straight out of a fashion magazine, but when Joe got to his feet to greet her, she looked like she belonged. She belongs with Joe, Cameron thought. He wasn't necessarily a walking model—that was Chase—but Joe had better fashion sense. Some of Chase's shirts were really awful. She should get him some that matched his eyes.

The woman's voice drew Cameron out of her thoughts. "Joe, where have you been? You haven't returned any of my calls, and when I called your work, they said you were at the hospital."

"I'm sorry, Lauren. It's Elizabeth. She's sick."

Lauren's smile fell. "Joe, why didn't you tell me? I would have come. You know I love Elizabeth."

"She'll be fine," Joe said.

"You're a lousy liar," Lauren said, hurt in her voice. She shook her head. "You didn't tell me because you didn't want me here."

Cameron picked up her tray and went to dump it. This was awkward. Lauren was Joe's girlfriend. That much was obvious. Joe had lied about her. He hadn't said that he didn't have a girlfriend, but a lie of omission was still a lie. Great. Chase was in love with Cameron, Cameron still had feelings for House, Joe was in love with Cameron, and Lauren was in love with Joe. It was even messier than before.

"Allison, wait," Joe said as she tried to leave without either of them knowing. "Lauren, this is Elizabeth's doctor, Allison Cameron."

She forced a smile. "It's nice to—"

"So you're Allison," Lauren said, and Cameron could see tears in her eyes. "I guess that explains why you never called, Joe."

"Lauren—"

"Can I please see Elizabeth?" Lauren addressed herself to Cameron. "After that, I can go."

Cameron felt sorry for her. She knew that Lauren didn't want her pity, but she nodded. "Come with me."

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"You can't quit."

"Are you stalking me?" Chase asked, putting the chart for his final patient on the stack and signing out of the clinic. House had followed him earlier, forcing Chase to lock the door to the exam room and try to treat patients with House pounding on the door until House finally gave up, or, more likely, Cuddy kicked him out of the clinic. That House was back wasn't a good thing, but at least Chase was done with his clinic hours.

"Only because I miss your beautiful eyes and perfect hair," House said, putting his cane against the wall to block Chase's path. "You can't quit."

"I already did," Chase said, ducking under the cane. It was actually quite liberating to know that he no longer worked for House.

"No, you haven't. You haven't turned in your letter of resignation yet. And do you know why?"

"Because I haven't had time yet," Chase answered.

"No, because you're not going to quit," House said smugly.

"I told you, I already did," Chase insisted. He started towards the stairs, knowing that House wouldn't follow him. Couldn't. "As soon as Elizabeth's case is over, I'm gone."

"I won't accept your resignation," House called as Chase started up the stairs.

Chase stopped, turning back to look at House. "What?"

"You heard me. I won't accept your resignation. You can't quit."

Chase walked back to House. He looked at him, shaking his head. "Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me quit? You don't like me. You only hired me because my father was the great Rowan Chase. You wanted fire me when Volger was here. And again when Kayla died. Why are you trying to stop me now?"

"Because it's not Munchausen's by proxy," House said. "Someone would have done something by now. I need another suggestion."

"I already told you that I'm not leaving until Elizabeth's case is over," Chase repeated. "Why are you trying to stop me now?"

"Because you're sick."

"I'm not. If you really thought that I was, you'd be forcing me to lie in bed while you tested everything you could think of," Chase said, folding his arms over his chest.

"House," Foreman called, running down the stairs. He reached House and Chase out of breath. Catching it, he continued, head lowered, "It's Munchausen's by proxy."

"What?" Chase exclaimed. It had been his theory, but he hadn't really expected it to be right. It stunned him.

"It can't be," House said.

"I saw it. The mother dosed the kid," Foreman said. "We have to get back to her right now."

"No, it can't be," House repeated. He was watching Chase closely. And that was when Chase realized that something was wrong. His vision blurred, and he fell. He heard noise all around him, saw Foreman—a Foreman coloured blob—above him.

"Chase? Chase, can you hear me?" Foreman asked. "He's going into arrest! We need a gurney over here!"

The world went black.