Thankyou again guys for all the comments. They mean a lot, really. I'm sorry the first two were a bit short but this one's longer now. I'm still working on the plot right now. I usually get the beginning and the end but struggle with the middle. This time's no different. So all suggestions are welcome!

Disclaimer : I do not own any of these characters.

He did help her, whether he knew it or not.

Chase had left a while ago to some clinic duty and Cameron was lying on her pitiful hospital bed, thinking about the conversation that just passed.

He really made her feel better. He'd told her about who she was, how he knew her, and what she normally did. All the crazy stuffs that made up her daily life. But it wasn't all those discoveries that brightened her up. It was him. The way he told them. The way he made her feel like he was just reminiscing of old times with a friend, instead of telling a patient about her conditions.

Her name was Allison Cameron, he'd told her. She was a doctor at Princeton Plainsborough hospital. His name was Robert Chase. They and another doctor, the first one she saw after she woke up, named Eric Foreman worked in the diagnosis department. Their boss' name was House, Dr. Gregory House. A genius in a very twisted, pain-in-the-ass kind of way. Those were his words, not hers, and they made her want to meet her boss already. He said she was a good doctor, very patient and smart. But who wouldn't? Seriously, who would walk up to you and tell you that you were a complete moron, even if it were true? Not likely.

But other than her work, he didn't know much about anything else, she decided. It seemed like she kept her personal life really personal. They didn't hang out much. Being the only woman in the department, she doubted she'd ever gone shopping with her colleagues. He said she wasn't married and currently not seeing anyone. She didn't have close female colleagues, and she was supposedly a workaholic.

What kind of life did she have exactly?

Whatever it was, it surely wasn't that bad. Well, after all, he worked with him, right?

When he said she wasn't seeing anyone, it sounded wrong to her somehow. And now she knew why. It was because he said it. He told her that she wasn't seeing anyone. So why wasn't she seeing him? While they talked, she stole a look at his left hand and there was no ring there. It would make perfect sense if they were going out. Unless he already had a girlfriend, of course. That would be a shame, she thought. He was such a hottie.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound of someone entering the room. She looked up and saw another doctor. He wasn't young, not like Chase, but not too old. And he still looked good. He had dark, neatly combed, hair and kind eyes. They were full of surprise and amusement. He smiled at her. "Hi."

"Hi."

"So I heard you didn't remember a thing."

"Yeah," she studied him, "and…"

"Oh," he walked closer and offered a hand, "I'm Wilson. I'm kind of…a friend."

She shook his hand. A friend. Great. Another man. She decided to go ahead and ask, "Do I have any female friends?"

Wilson was a bit taken aback by her question. It seemed very strange for Cameron to ask such a question because it was the kind that suggested self-insecurity, and Cameron would never in a million years admit something like that about herself. But then again, this wasn't Cameron. Not the Cameron he knew anyway. "Not that I know of," he answered.

She looked hurt, "Right."

"Anyway," Wilson continued, "I just wanna check in to see if you're ok. Apart from the amnesia thing, I mean. You're not feeling nauseous or hurt or anything right?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

He sighed, feeling a wave of tiredness from her. "Anything I can help?"

"Do you think you know anything about me that Dr. Chase doesn't?"

He was once again taken aback by her question. He'd expected that she'd ask about herslef, but he wasn't prepared for the mentioning of Chase's name. He raised an eyebrow. "Chase?"

She nodded. "Yeah, Dr. Robert Chase. You know him, right? He said he worked with me. He told me some of what he knows about me. Basic stuffs. Do you know anything he doesn't?"
Wilson thought for a moment, trying to figure out what he knew that Chase didn't. Chase and Cameron weren't best friends but he spent more time with Cameron than Wilson did. After all, they slept together. In the end, he came up with something. "How about…your husband?"

Did Chase know about this? It wasn't exactly a secret. Not like something Cameron talked to him about months ago, the 'Joe' thing. But even if Chase had already gone ahead of him and told her about her dead husband, he didn't think he would be able to bring Joe up, not even as a last resort.

Cameron's eyes widened. "My husband?" Seemingly, a million thoughts raced through her mind all at once. She had a husband? Who was she? What did he look like? What did he do? Why didn't Chase tell her about this? Didn't Chase know? And if Chase didn't know, why did this guy know? They said she'd been out for over two days, why hadn't she seen her husband yet? Were they still together? Or maybe they were separated, but not yet divorced? Were they having problems in their marriage?

Wilson must have sensed some of these thoughts because he went on saying, in a quiet voice, one you used when you had to tell somebody their relative had died or something, "It's not like that. He's…well, he's dead." He avoided her eyes, which was a wise thing to do because right now they were staring sharply at him.

"I had a husband…and he died?"

"Yeah."

She looked down at her hands clasped together in her lap, lost in thoughts. "How?" she asked quietly.

Wilson sighed again, "Cancer."

When she didn't say anything more, he added, "Some years ago. Not recently."

She twisted the garment of her gown. "Am I over it?" her voice was almost like a whisper.

Wilson thought about her question, his eyebrows knitted together. It was an interesting question, and he believed that only a few of the patients with amnesia would ask something like this. No, only special ones, he thought. And Cameron was downright special. "From what I know about you, you are."

She didn't quite know how she should feel. This was big. It wasn't like learning that she lived in an apartment not twenty minutes from the hospital or that she once quitted her job and took it up again in a matter of days. No, this was a tragedy, one that actually happened in her life. This was…huge.

And she couldn't remember one freaking bit of it.

Still, the way her stomach felt tight and her heart sank must have been the signs telling her that she did remember. Somewhere deep down, subconsciously, she remembered. She knew it was sad and awful. Her body remembered it, even though her brain didn't.

She looked up at him again, "Good," she said.

All your reviews are welcome and appreciated. Please send them in so I know what to work on.