Okay, I had to finish Day 1 of Cameron's recuperation. I got a little hot and heavy (kinda) toward the end so when I proofread it I may have missed some stuff. Lol

Thanks for the suggestions and reviews. Hope you like. Steph

CHAPTER NINETEEN – Day 1

House was quiet the whole time he drove Cameron back to his apartment, which was fine with him. He knew she was tired because he'd been just as exhausted when he was taken home after he was shot and after his infarction.

He was just as tired from errands the day before. He had a lot to do: shop for food (which was really a lot of frozen dinners), went to her apartment and got a few of her clothes and everyday essentials, his Vicodin refilled and two bottles of scotch, since he'd finished his last one off just the week before.

House pulled up in front of his apartment building and took a deep sigh before he opened his door; Cameron sat still and waited for him to come around and help her out. It was difficult for her to get out because her right leg was in a cast and she was still very sore from her spleen being removed. But considering the impact of the bus she took, she was very, very lucky.

"Hang on, Cameron. I need to take your bag and open the front door, okay? I'll be right back."

He took her plastic bag with the clothes she'd warn the night of the accident, went inside, set the bag on his bed and popped two vicodin before he headed back outside. He looked at his cane and debated whether it would be a hindrance or helpful getting her inside. He went to his liquor cabinet, took a long gulp and went back outside, sans the cane.

When he walked to her door, he saw her head was back on the head rest and her eyes were closed. Something tugged at his heart and for a split second he felt something. It was a 'good' something.

He opened the door and stuck his head in, placed his hand on hers and quietly said her name. His own voice surprised him: it was soft, gentle, empathetic, so unlike him. He called her name again and shook her softly from the shoulder until she woke up.

"Cam, time to get you inside but I'm going to need as much help from you as you can muster. Let me know if it gets too painful. I'll give you something for the pain when we get you settled inside."

He hesitated a moment before he put his right hand on her hip and supported her right leg with his left hand. "Okay, you need to swivel around and get your feet out first. It'll be much easier to stand."

She only nodded her head and did as he said, moaning and grunting as she did so.

"You're doing really well. We're almost …"

Suddenly he himself yelped in pain because he put too much pressure on his own right leg. He told her to give him a second. She looked up at him and smiled, knowing how hard it was on him to put so much weight on it.

Ten minutes later, they walked through the door of his apartment.

"Ca…can I get some water before I lie down?" she asked.

House didn't answer but continued to lead her to the couch.

"No, no. I won't rest well on the … couch. What's wrong with the bed? Actually, forget the water. I need to lie down now."

The look in her eyes pleaded with him to allow her to do so, and it tugged at his heart, again. He made a mental note to stop letting his heart get in the way. As soon as she was in bed and asleep, he'd have a couple drinks. That would surely take care of that nonsense.

"Fine. I'll sleep on the couch, not a problem," he told her and he got a more secure hold of her waist with his right arm. He'd hoped it would balance him out and allow him not to tumble as he walked her to the bedroom and stopped beside the bed.

A thought crossed his mind: the last woman he'd had in his bed was Stacy, and it was an awkward feeling to have someone else in it. But he couldn't object. Not now. Not with Cameron.

"Hold on, hold on," he said nervously. "You'll be alright for a sec, Cameron?"

Cameron nodded her head. He could tell it was difficult for her to stand on her own so he hurriedly pulled down the blanket low enough so she could sit on the bed and be able to maneuver herself to lie down. He walked back to her right before she lost her remaining strength and collapsed into his arms, her head down and against his shoulder but she hadn't passed out.

House groaned at the sudden extra weight but he gently set her on the bed.

"It's cold in here. Can you get me…my sweats and a t-shirt? They're in the top drawer," she said.

House's heart skipped a beat; he knew her clothes were not in his drawer. When he brought clothes from her apartment he only grabbed jeans, t-shirts, underwear and a pink, lace bra, of which he was particularly fond of, and they were still in the duffle bag on the floor. He hadn't even thought to grab some night clothes. He sniggered to himself when he wondered if that was a subconscious thought: having her sleep in the nude.

After he pushed that ludicrous idea out of his head, and not wanting to say anything that might upset her he told her, "Actually, they're in the washer. I didn't have time to dry them before I left for the hospital this morning."

House lied to her. He never had a problem lying, and was always good at it. Cameron bought it.

"I think my sweats should fit you," he told her, knowing they really wouldn't but they would have to do.

Regardless, he pulled the smallest pair of sweats out of his drawer with his red "South of the Border" t-shirt. He handed them to her and she just looked up at him. She reached behind her to untie the hospital gown but groaned in pain.

"I … I can't do this … can you help me?"

"Cameron, that's not a good idea … ok, wait. Let me get you water and a pain pill. Believe me, you'll need it," he said as he walked out of the room.

Cameron's head was spinning and her head hurt tremendously, not to mention her stomach and leg. Her head felt heavier and her body weaker by the moment. She let herself fall back onto the bed, closed her eyes and breathed heavily, feeling as if she'd pass out.

House walked into the living room, grabbed the bottle of scotch and went to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water for Cameron and a glass of scotch for himself. The liquor did little to quench his nervousness at having to undress her. He grabbed her bottle of Dilaudid and went back into the bedroom. He took a deep breath, so deep he thought he'd swallowed his tongue.

He saw, for the first time since the hospital's poker charity night, just how beautiful she really was. Her hair was in dire need of a good combing through; her face could use a wash and a nice long, hot bath which would take the week's worth of hospital crud off her delicate skin. But she was still gorgeous.

"Greg … where are you?" she whispered but didn't open her eyes.

"I'm … here," he said as he walked to the bed and sat down beside her. "Sit up and take these. Then we'll get you changed."

Cameron sat up slowly and with help from House. She let her body lean against his and he didn't push her away. He dropped two Dilaudid into his palm and handed them to her, followed with the glass of water. She took the pills and emptied the glass then handed it back to him.

"I'm too tired to sleep," she said as she sat up. "I need to get out of this stupid gown."

Oh, here it comes. Breathe, House, breathe

House stood up and faced Cameron. He leaned in close to her, so close his chest was almost touching hers. He reached behind her and untied the gown, pulling the strings apart, exposing her back, and pulled the material over her shoulders. He looked beside her where the t-shirt was and closed his eyes. He brought the material down her sides and let it rest on the bed behind her.

Blindly, he reached for the shirt and gently pulled it over her head. He couldn't resist: he did open his left eye to watch as it slid over her breasts. Though her eyes were closed, she smiled. He knelt on his left knee and slid the sweats over her ankles, knees and hips.

"Cameron, are you sure you want to wear the sweats? With your cast and having to go to the bathroom you might not want to have them on."

She agreed and finally lied down on her side. He grabbed a pillow and lifted her leg onto it then covered her up.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" she asked, her eyes looking up at him lovingly.

"Uh, no. I've got to … stuff to do. I'll be in shortly."

"Greg, why have you been calling me Cameron? A little formal now, don't you think?" she asked, her eyes growing heavy and she closed them.

He didn't answer her at first. "Habit, I guess."

House watched her for a minute or so, until her breathing became steady and he knew she was asleep. He wanted to hold her, tightly, so she wouldn't feel any pain. But the thought tortured him.

What he felt that time was fear – fear that something might happen between them, and it scared the hell out of him.