Thank you so much for being patient, guys! It means a lot to me! I worked hard to get this chapter done before I leave for vacation tomorrow. I do admit it's a little rushed, especially at the end. I do hope you enjoy it though.
And thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry I don't have time to answer you all personally like I usually do since I need to be packing. Next chapter, I will though!
But really...thank you all so much for supporting me. You're all amazing.
Wilson's POV:
It figures the morning you don't have to get up until late is the day someone decides to call you. Rolling over on your stomach, you bury your face against a pillow and yank the comforter up over your head. "I'm sleeping," you mumble to the phone despite that whoever is calling obviously can't hear you.
The ringtone isn't the one you set for the hospital so it's probably not an emergency. Though, it's not the ringtone you set for House either so it's probably not an annoyance unless he figured out you wouldn't answer him if he called from his own phone.
Groaning, you reach out from under the covers and feel around the nightstand for your cell. The alarm clock goes crashing to the ground and begins buzzing loudly. You freeze for a moment before finally grabbing your phone and pulling it under the blankets with you. Trying to block out the alarm by pulling your pillow over your head, you flip the phone open and press it to your ear.
"What, House?" you mutter, figuring no one else could start your day off like this.
"Wilson?" The thick, female voice on the line definitely does not belong to House.
"Thirteen?" You push away your pillow and throw the comforter back as you sit up. "What's wrong?" Her calling you out of the blue would have you worried enough, but her voice sounds emotional and shaky - not like you've ever heard her sound before. Sitting up, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and yank on the alarm clock cord with your toes to shut it off.
"Allison's sick," she starts going off automatically. "I need someone to go to the store to get her something she's going to be able to keep down. I'd go myself but there's glass all over the floor and I don't have time to get dressed because the dog is high and the lamp is-"
"Slow down," you cut her off, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you already start looking for clothes to put on. "Did you say the dog is high?" You furrow your brows in confusion and try to focus on both the conversation and putting pants on at the same time.
"Wilson, please, just go to the store and see if you can find anything for nausea," she pleads impatiently. "I don't know if it's morning sickness, stress, or if she's coming down with something. I don't know."
You freeze as she mentions 'morning sickness.' That would mean Cameron is…You quickly push the thought away and button your pants then reach for your shirt. "Do you need anything for yourself?" you ask her, trying to keep the phone to your ear and wrestle your shirt over your head at the same time. "Or for the dog?" What do you get for a dog that's high? You're not even sure what she meant by that, but you have a bad feeling she meant high off of drugs.
"No, but I might need someone to take the dog to the vet. He's on one hell of a trip. I have to go."
You sigh as the phone clicks off and finish putting your shirt on. "They're going to want to know why my dog is high," you mutter under your breath as you shove your cell into your pants pocket then search for your shoes.
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Thirty minutes later, you find yourself standing outside of Remy's apartment door with a bag in your hand from the local Weis Market. Halfway through your shopping trip, you realized you didn't even know where she lived. Fortunately, Cuddy had been in her office when you called so you didn't have to resort to calling House for an address. "Thirteen, it's Wilson," you call, raising your fist and knocking lightly on the door.
"It's open!" she calls back, her voice slightly stronger than it was on the phone. "Just be careful!"
You turn the handle and push the door open, frowning when you immediately see tiny shards of glass glittering in the carpet and larger ones scattered across the floor next to the lampshade. "What happened?" you ask, glancing up.
Remy is in the corner on her hands and knees in nothing but her underclothes, trying to plug in the vacuum cleaner behind the chair. She doesn't look like she's having much luck though. "Allison knocked the lamp over," she answers simply, grunting and trying to balance herself. The hand that isn't trying to put the plug in the socket is hooked under the dog's collar as he tries to commando crawl toward the door. His legs are flailing in attempt to push himself forward and he's panting in determination, looking like he thinks he might actually be getting somewhere.
"Here. Let me help you." You place the bag down on the floor and hurry over to her then reach down and scoop up the dog. His head lulls to the side and drool trickles from his mouth. "What did he take?" you ask, adjusting the collar around the dog's neck. You stare at him for a moment then glance at her for an answer.
Remy opens her mouth to speak then clamps it shut again. She plugs in the vacuum then gets to her feet and rests her foot against the lever to turn it on. "Allison's in the bedroom," she states. "Don't let her see the dog." She walks away from the vacuum and starts picking up the larger shards of glass.
You stare at her for a moment, watching her uncomfortably avoid your gaze. An idiot could tell she had been as high as the dog the previous night. "You should get some sleep," you state simply. "Let me take care of the dog and Allison. I'll take her back to my house."
She lets out a breath and shakes her head, going to put the pieces in the trash.
Reaching down, you grab the bag and pick it up then adjust it and the dog in your arms. "C'mon, Hulk," you mumble, glad he's small and the squirming doesn't make him impossible to hold. Stepping over the glass, you leave Remy to vacuum and head down the hall. From where you're walking, you can see a corner of the bed in the bedroom and stop beside the door next to it. You know she's going to panic if you take the dog inside.
It's a relief to find the bathroom when you open the door. You carefully lower the dog to the floor and make sure he's out of the way and there's nothing he can get into before closing the door again. "Allison," you warn her you're coming before turning and stepping into the bedroom.
Cameron quickly turns her head and tucks her face against the pillow she's hugging.
"I know you're not sleeping." You walk over to the bed and put the bag down on it then crouch down. "Allison, you need to drink something before you get dehydrated and end up in the hospital." You pull the box of pedialyte from the bag and work on getting it open.
She slowly turns her head, peeking out from behind the pillow slightly. "I can't," she whispers hoarsely. "I'll throw up."
"You're not going to this throw up." You work on opening the bottle then rest it on the bed with your hand around it so it won't fall over. "It's made for kids who are vomiting. It has bears on the bottle."
"You're going to make me leave, aren't you? That's why she called you." Her arms shake as she slowly pushes herself up into a sitting position. "P-please don't…" She lets her voice trail off and muffles a yawn then rubs at her face.
"I'm not making you do anything except drink this." You stand then move to sit beside her on the bed and hand her the bottle. "Drink before I need to get an IV in here," you try to tease her even though you're slightly serious.
She glances at you with an unreadable expression then slowly takes a few sips of the drink.
You place your hand flat on the bed and use it for support as you lean back slightly. "What happened to the lamp, Allison?" you ask, tilting your head to the side a bit.
Her grip on the bottle tightens and she immediately diverts her gaze to the floor, pulling her legs up a bit. "I…I pushed it," she whispers shakily. She puts the bottle between her knees then presses her palms to her cheeks, slowly shaking her head. "I didn't mean to…I wasn't even thinking…I…"
"I know you wouldn't mean to break something." You take the bottle before it can drop and spill then lean over and put it on the nightstand. "Did you push it because of something Thirteen did?" You don't want to pry, but you don't want her bottling things up and making it all worse either.
Cameron opens her mouth to speak then closes it again. She pulls her legs up further and lets her forehead rest against her knees. "I just don't want to lose her," she whispers. "I just…I want it all to be back to normal and I don't want to lose her."
"I don't think you're going to lose her, Allison," you answer, shaking your head. "It seems like she really likes you. She's just not used to this kind of situation or someone like you, and I mean someone like you in a good way. She's doing her best to help you. She might just need you to help her out a little also. What do you need, Allison?"
"I don't know," she answers. She lifts her head then leans forward and grabs her drink a bit.
"Think about it," you reply, watching her. "If you could have anything you can logically get at this moment, what would it be? I'm sure she's willing to help you. Just be clear with what you need from her."
"I need out of here." She traces her finger around the rim of the bottle.
"Out of Princeton?" you ask.
She shakes her head. "Out of this apartment building," she replies. "Back…back to my own or to a new one. I don't even care. I just…I want to be somewhere I don't have to be scared of losing her."
There's a thump against the wall from the direction of the bathroom and you glance up. "I have to run some errands," you tell her, figuring you should probably get the dog to the vet. "My door is always open for both of you. I'm going to drop by later and make sure you're doing okay, alright?"
"Thank you." She puts the bottle down again and hesitates for a moment before leaning over and hugging you.
You gently hug her back, careful not to startle her. "Talk to Thirteen," you tell her, pull away. "I want a full report when I return, okay?"
"A full report," she confirms quietly. "I think I'm going to sleep first."
"Good," you reply, getting to your feet. "You need it. Make sure she sleeps too." You give her a warm smile as she nods then go to retrieve Hulk…or was his name Joker…
So will Remy refuse to move? Will they move to Cameron's apartment? Or will Wilson be gaining some new roomies?