Ghost From the Past (13/?)

Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,516
Disclaimer: I own House. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except seasons 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. No spoilers after season 2. Since this is two days late, I'm posting it without sending it to my beta. All mistakes are mine.

Ghost From the Past
Chapter Thirteen: Give and Take

cccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc
She stared. She couldn't help it. All she could do was stare. She watched his chest rise and fall, envying his peace, his complete oblivion. Whatever mistakes he'd made couldn't haunt him. He didn't have to feel like everything he'd done was wrong. She had been angry with him, but now she was only mad at herself. She'd done this to him. Her carelessness had caused this. A nurse had found the empty bag of cookies in the pocket of Chase's lab coat, but she'd thought nothing of it and thrown them away. They had no way of knowing what was in the cookies, what made Chase sick.

But Cameron knew it was her fault.

"You know, it might help if you talk to him," Wilson suggested, standing in the doorway. Cameron almost laughed. Now everyone had been in the doorway but Cuddy. She'd been here; of course, Cuddy felt responsible for all the doctors at the hospital. She'd visited Chase, just not while Cameron was there.

"He's unconscious," she said, not looking away from Chase.

"They say coma patients can hear. I figured you'd be someone who believed that," Wilson told her. "Besides, it isn't really for him. It's for you."

"I talk about it, get it off my chest, make myself feel better?" She asked, frowning.

"Something like that, yes," Wilson agreed. "Probably be easier for you to say what you need to say while he's unconscious. Takes the fear of rejection out of the equation."

Cameron turned to look at Wilson. He shrugged. "I used to apologize to my wife while she was asleep. The second time was always easier. I could pretend she already knew. Sometimes she did."

"Maybe you're right." Cameron smiled. She walked closer to Chase's bed and took his hand.

"I'll leave you alone," Wilson said.

"Thank you," she looked up at Wilson. He nodded and left. She sat down next to the bed. "Chase, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need to tell you…I need to tell you that I'm sorry. This week… I've been so confused. I made some bad decisions, but I never meant to hurt you. Not with…

"I know now that I used you, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I was trying to avoid how I felt," she told him, and she imagined for a minute that he stirred.

"Chase, you have to get better. You have to… I couldn't… I couldn't bear it if you didn't… Chase… the cookies… this is all my fault."

She lowered her head. Tears were welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry. Chase…"

She laid her head next to him. She couldn't look at him anymore. He was unconscious, but she still felt like he would accuse her. She couldn't face him. And then she felt him squeeze her hand.

"Chase?"

cccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc

He opened his eyes. She was the first thing that he saw; so beautiful that he thought that he was dreaming. A mirage, that's what she was. Her hair was coming loose from its ponytail, and her blouse was rumpled. Had she been here long, watching over him? Of course. This was Cameron, and Cameron cared too much about everyone. She would be there, waiting for him to wake up like she waited for everyone, even strangers. It didn't mean anything, no matter how much he might want it to.

Then he saw that she had been crying. Why? He frowned, remembering having heard her voice. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry. Did she actually think that his illness was her fault? That was absurd. She hadn't given him anything. House was convinced that Chase had the same thing as Elizabeth, but Foreman had said that Mrs. Stanton caused Elizabeth's illness. This didn't make sense.

He squeezed Cameron's hand. He tried to speak, but couldn't. Right, moron, there's a tube in your throat. Cameron looked up at him. "Chase?"

He pointed to the tube. She nodded. "I'll take it out. Just a second."

He waited impatiently for her to remove the tube. His throat ached. How long had he been out? Cameron offered him water, and he drank gratefully. "What happened?"

"You went into cardiac arrest. You've been unconscious for about a day," she told him.

He shook his head. "Not that. What happened to you?"

"Me? Nothing. I'm fine."

He looked at her, accepted another sip of water. "No, you're not. You were crying. What happened? Is Elizabeth—"

"She's fine. She regained consciousness a couple of hours ago. She doesn't understand what happened to her, but she'll be okay. They arrested Mrs. Stanton. Pretty much everyone is in shock. They don't understand how she could do that."

"Joe?" Chase's throat hurt too much to say more.

"He's pretty shaken," Cameron agreed.

"Not what I meant." Chase shook his head again. She looked away guiltily. He reached for her hand. "It isn't your fault."

She jerked away, staring at him in shock. Her mouth hung open like a fish for a few seconds before she was able to speak. "You heard me?"

"Just…that," he told her. "Whatever it is, it isn't your fault."

"You don't know that," she said tearfully. "It is my fault. I should never have given you those cookies. The ones Mrs. Stanton made. Only Elizabeth would eat them. That's why she used them to induce the illness. Whatever she used didn't show up on a tox screen, and since someone threw away the bag that was in your pocket, we'll probably never know what it was. But it seems to have left your system."

Chase blinked, confused. "The cookies?"

"The coconut ones. Remember, I gave them to you before Elizabeth's first CT scan," Cameron prompted.

"Oh, those cookies," he said. "I'd forgotten."

He'd seen thirty patients in two hours. And House had tried to burst in on at least ten of them. This was ridiculous. The man was a bloody menace. And Chase didn't dare leave the clinic or House would try to talk him out of quitting. Chase reached into his pocket. Oh, yeah. He still had those cookies that Cameron had given him. They tasted off, but they were better than nothing.

He took a bite and made another note on the chart.

Chase shook off the memory and looked at Cameron. "That wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," she insisted.

"No," he repeated firmly. "You may have given them to me, but you weren't the one that laced them with a drug. Mrs. Stanton did that. You gave me the cookies, but I chose to eat them. I even ate more when I knew they tasted wrong. That was my fault."

"Chase—"

"I'm sorry," he told her. "Cameron, I—I asked Joe to give you some space. Probably sounded like I was telling him to leave you alone. I was worried about you, but it wasn't my place. I'm sorry."

Cameron stared at him in shock. She made a few movements, sniffling and wiping her cheeks, but she seemed unaware of them. She shook her head. "I wasn't expecting you to apologize. I was supposed to apologize to you."

"We all make mistakes," Chase told her. Her continued disbelief made him wonder if he was suffering from a personality shift after a near death experience. He was arrogant. He only admitted to mistakes when he was cornered.

"Yes, but—the cookies—you could have died—"

"Let it go," he insisted. "It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. He wanted to kiss her, and he couldn't. It was not okay.

cccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc

"I take it back," House said, leaning in the doorway. "You can quit."

"What?" Cameron asked in confusion.

Chase looked at House in disbelief. Earlier today—no, it was yesterday—House hadn't been willing to let Chase quit. He'd followed Chase around the clinic, barged in on patients, and yelled, banging on the door. Now he was telling Chase that he could go. Without a fight.

"Wait a minute, why did you change your mind?" Chase demanded, stopping House from leaving the room. House turned back, taking a couple of steps into the room.

"I was keeping you here because you were sick," House answered. "You're not sick anymore. You can go."

"That's not why," Foreman said from the doorway. Chase looked up. Foreman, Wilson, and Cuddy were all there. Chase sighed. He'd needed more time alone with Cameron. He needed to talk to House without everyone around. "Good to see you're awake, Chase."

Chase nodded, and Cameron squeezed his hand insistently. "What is he talking about, Chase? Are you quitting?"

Chase opened his mouth to speak, but House interrupted. "Chase here said he was quitting earlier. Or maybe it was the disease talking."

"I ate bad cookies. I was poisoned. I didn't catch Elizabeth's illness because it wasn't contagious. She had MBPS," Chase said angrily.

"Which is why he wants you to quit," Foreman explained. "He was wrong. You were right."

"And he'll never live it down," Cuddy added.

"Chase," Cameron interrupted. "Did you really say you were quitting?"

"Yes."