He'd made sure to hide the Vicodin under his pillow. It'd been a good choice considering his father had inspected every nook and cranny of his private room. His mother had stayed by his side, always keeping at least one finger on her son.
Rubbing his forehead, he sighs freely, finally alone. He could replay the conversation in his mind.
"How are you, Greg?"
"Besides the not remem-membering over a year of m-my l-life? Not b-b-being able to walk? Talking like a-a-an idiot? Great."
"Son, you could be dead, or worse, a vegetable."
He watches his mom's lips slide downward in a frown as she tightens her hold on his hand.
"I know," he replies simply to his still standing father.
For the rest of the hour they're with him, he bites haltingly into each answer he tries to give. Blythe keeps touching his face. His father keeps eyeing him analytically.
One foot out the door, John stops, waving his wife ahead. With a slight turn of his body, he looks at his son. "The way I see it, this amnesia, could be the best thing to happen to you, Greg. God's giving you a second chance to make things right with people. In your case, a lot of people."
Or he could talk to the person across the hallway, checking up on his post-op patient.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Have a seat."
He crosses his arms, skepticism written over his handsome features. "I'm okay."
"What's the-the deal with you and Cameron?"
The surgeon hides his reaction well, no doubt having learned a few tricks from the master.
"If this is it-."
"You the dad? Couldn't c-commit?"
The air suddenly turns solid as Chase clenches his mouth shut. The young man's lips quirk at the ends, a not quite frown easily mistakable for a trying smile. He notes the same blue eyes becoming too stormy for his usual aloof attitude.
"I don't..." he shakes his head and sighs softly as if struggling with the right words, or maybe something else. "If she wanted everyone to know, she'd have told everybody."
He never takes his eyes off Chase. "Can't you just s-say no?"
Chase shrugs, a little too indifferently.
"Take it however you like," he says, leaving the room.
"You need to stop it!"
He glances up from the journal, but soon goes back to reading. A few short words later and he finds the pages being gripped by her hands and finally finding hell in her left hand.
"Did you hear me?"
"No," he whispers loudly.
Her cheeks, burning red, turn an impossible shade darker. Her soft mouth hardens into a line that tells him she means business. But her deep breathing from all the exertion, makes him smile.
"Hey! Newly awa-wakened cr-crippled coma guy!"
She plants a solid one on his still strengthening arm with his journal in her clenched fist. He's shocked at first because he can't believe she'd hit him. In the next instant, she's let the journal fall to the floor, and gently examines his upper arm.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't like her being so close to him. He catches her eyes. He'd also be lying if he said it didn't unnerve him.
"I'm a big boy. I'll heal," he says, pulling away from her.
Straightening, she puts her hands on her lower lack. She stares down at him, a touch mad at herself for lashing out at him. That's when she remembers why she had. It's not all hormones.
"I'm going to ask you, one time, to please leave my business alone."
"Or what? You'll kill me with a phone book? Wilson knows someone with an illustrated Bible. He's got my back."
"I'm not joking, House." Her tone suddenly becomes tired and she resists the urge to rub her eyes. "If you've got to ask and be nosy, then leave Chase out of it."
"Why?"
Her silence, that penetrating stare, and he's interested more now than ever.
"Just...this one thing, House. Thisone thing, and I'll do anything you want besides telling you who the father is."
"Why the whole quiet conspiracy? There's got to be a reason."
"If there is, then it's my reason. My reason and mine alone."
"Which is why it's so interesting. Why would innocent, sweet, saint, Cameron need this hidden?"
"I'm tired of people asking me all these stupid questions." She takes a step closer to his bed. "All I'm asking is for you to leave Chase alone about this. He doesn't deserve it."
"What happened with you two?"
Without thinking, her hands move to where his left hand is resting beside his leg. The jerk as she catches her motion saves her even more questions.She realizes she needs to leave, and does just that.
A/N: So...everyone have a Happy Hughsday? I heard the ep wasn't that great...and only what, 3 seconds of a silent Cam. IDK, I didn't get to watch it. Anyways, so next chap I'll reveal what happened...except for what led up to it...you'll see what I mean. Thanks reviewers. Thanks silent readers.
And going off on a tangent, after chap 12 of "Almost" I was going to have this kind of story happen...but it didn't flow with character death. Well, then I was going to scrap "A Missing Poem" and take this story line, and call it "A Forgotten poem." It was just awesome when I was thinking about it...but then I wouldn't have been able to do this whole Cameron/Secret thing...so well, just wanted to get that out of my head. LOL. Sorry guys.