A/N: Wow, I had no idea how long this would be. We're getting closer and closer to the garden fund raiser & the Wuddy birth. Plus my surprise Wilson twist & Cuddy's diabolical plan. And of course, little Devon!

Chapter 40

Week Three

House leaned casually against the pillar near the nurse's station on the psych floor. Cameron had been acting weird. While normally weird wasn't a problem, this was different. This was secretive weird.

House did not like secretive. House had always liked knowing stuff. Even stuff that other people dismissed as insignificant. You never knew what was important; House wanted to know it all. But even beyond nearly insatiable curiosity House did not like people keeping things from him.

He was sure that Quig would have had something to say about that. He'd probably accuse House of having trust issues. Well, duh. He spent his entire childhood being abused and tormented by one of the people who was supposed to love and care for him without reservation. Of course he had trust issues. Or he'd suggest it was a control thing. When other people knew things House didn't, it meant they had the potential to exert power over him. That just went back to the whole abusive father thing and that was exactly why House had never talked to Quig about it. Who needed all that psycho babble crap anyway?

However, House really, really did not like a secretive Cameron. It's not that he wanted to know everything she thought or felt. He just didn't like knowing that there was something she deliberately wouldn't tell him. Even worse, Cameron apparently had no problem talking to Quig about whatever it was, for she had walked into his office exactly eleven minutes and twenty seven seconds ago. House was camped out, waiting and watching for a clue. He expected to be here for a while.

Making himself as comfortable as possible while leaning against the hard pillar, House hooked his cane over his elbow and dug a bag of Skittles from his jacket pocket. He had at least another half hour to wait, guessing on a 45 minute long session. House ripped the top of the bag off with his teeth and spit it onto the counter behind him. The nurse shot him a murderous glance, but House had already turned and it deflected off his sport coat harmlessly.

Suddenly the door to Quig's office opened and he and Cameron stepped out into the hall. Cameron smiled at Quig and turned toward the elevator.

House jumped, as well as a crippled man can, and darted behind the pillar that had been supporting his back. He might have gotten away unseen, were it not for the tell tale trail of Skittles on the floor. Cameron started at a red one that had rolled down the hall aways and followed their path until she was toe to toe with a grumpy diagnostician with killer blue eyes.

Cameron raised an annoyed eyebrow at him.

"Skittle?" House offered her the bag.

"That's all you have to say for yourself?" Cameron asked.

"Taste the rainbow," House said wisely.

"Are you following me?"

"Are you avoiding me?"

"Why would I be doing that?"

"Did you just answer my question with a question?" House was indignant. That was his tactic.

"Don't like it, do you?" Cameron answered smartly. "I needed a favor; Quig is going to take care of it for me."

"Does this have something to do with Wilson's garden?" House asked warily.

"What do you know about that?" Cameron asked, afraid she'd been caught.

"Nothing. Unless you know something about it," House said cagily.

"Greg," Cameron huffed.

"What are you hiding from me?" House asked. He wanted her to know that he wasn't prying, not really. He was just … he just needed to know.

"What am I hiding from you?" Cameron parroted, amused. "Please. What are you hiding from me?"

"Oh, so many things," House said, now going on the defensive. She obviously wasn't going to tell him, and now he was angry. "I could tell you, but I'm working on a list right now, all alphabetized and cross-referenced. I know how you long for order."

Cameron stepped back quickly. This was turning ugly fast and she wanted to avoid a scene. She also knew that when he found out what she'd been planning he would probably feel guilty for being such an ass and sulk for weeks. She didn't want to put up with that.

"Fine, let me know when it's ready," Cameron said and turned to go. House snatched his cane from his elbow and began limping after her as quickly as he could manage. Pain free or not, he still couldn't chase her down when she ran.

Perhaps inevitably, the scene Cameron had been trying to avoid unfolded behind her. In his haste to catch her, House planted his cane atop that traitorous red Skittle on the floor and it rolled. The cane shot out of House's grasp and he collapsed loudly to the floor in a tangle of limbs and a clatter of wood.

Cameron turned and gasped when she saw House on the floor. Abandoning her escape, she rushed to him and knelt at his side, anxiously trying to check him for injuries.

"Get off me," he grumbled at her.

"Greg, let me make sure you're okay," Cameron said with concern. She was so focused on House she didn't notice the throng of nurses and patients staring at them.

"I said get off me," House said more sharply. Cameron drew back from him with a hurt expression. "I may still be a cripple but I'm not completely inept."

"I just wanted to help," she said quietly.

"I don't want your help," he shouted at her. Cameron's eyes flooded with tears and her cheeks flushed bright red with shame. House had managed to sit up by this time and reached for his cane. He looked at Cameron and saw the tears threatening to fall. "Just go," he said quietly.

She stood and left him on the floor. The crowd of onlookers scattered quickly, leaving House on the floor with his cane and his wounded pride.

"Cammin sad today," Devon said when Cameron came and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Yes, Cameron is sad today," she agreed. "That's not important. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Devon answered. What had originally been a mild case of pneumonia had resisted their drug therapy and Devon had relapsed with a fever and severe cough the day before his scheduled release. "Why Cammin sad?"

"Oh, I had a fight with a friend of mine," Cameron said. She didn't want to trouble this little sweetheart with her problems. He had quite enough of his own to deal with, including her continuing failure to diagnose his condition.

"Owz?"

"Ow? Something hurting you sweetie?" Cameron asked, instantly concerned.

"No," Devon said. "Owz, Owz. Cammin fight with Owz?"

"House?" Cameron asked. She was surprised that Devon remembered him after such a brief encounter the previous week. "Yes, I had a fight with House and now I'm sad."

"Say sorry," Devon said.

"Oh, sweetie, I just don't think that will fix it," Cameron said.

"Yessir, that what you do. You fight, then say sorry and give hugs," Devon said proudly. He'd evidently been taught this at the group home.

"Well, I'll give that a try then," Cameron said to satisfy the boy. "Do you need anything before I go home?"

"Nope," Devon said. "Nigel comin' see me."

"Nigel is working tonight? Well, I'm sure he'll check up on you then," Cameron leaned down and placed a kiss on the boy's cheek. "Good night sweetie."

"Night Cammin. Give Owz my hug," Devon said and flung his arms around Cameron's neck.

Cameron didn't respond. She didn't trust herself not to cry and the last thing she wanted was to upset Devon. She walked out of the PICU and saw Chase and Jasper in the hall, apparently saying their goodnight before Chase's night shift.

"Hey Cameron," Chase said easily as he slung an arm over Jasper's shoulders. Cameron sighed to see the couple so obviously in tune with each other.

"Hello Nigel," Cameron replied. She knew he hated the nickname, although he bore it well for Devon's sake.

"Oh don't call me that," Chase whined. "That's all I'd need would be for House to hear and it'd be all over the hospital."

"Oops," Cameron said and Chase moaned. "Relax, he found out last week. If it's not out by now, I think you're safe. Besides, Nigel is Australian right?" Chase nodded. "House would only use it to torture you if he was British," Cameron reasoned.

"True," Chase said, brightening up. "How is he doing?"

"Tired," Cameron said. "I wish I could figure out what's wrong with him."

"Cameron, why don't you let Price and I take a look at the file," Jasper suggested. "House has been taking some pretty easy cases by his usual standards lately. We've got the time."

"Thanks," Cameron said appreciatively. "I know it's something, and it will probably hit me like a ton of bricks when we find it but …" Cameron looked wistfully back at the boy who was curled in the fetal position on his bed. "He's so smart. You know he remembered House?"

"Of course he remembers House," Chase said. "They've had lunch together every day this week."

Cameron turned and looked at Chase in shock. "What?"

"You didn't know?" Chase asked. "House has been in here every day eating lunch and watching cartoons."

Cameron looked from Chase to Jasper and back again. "Excuse me, I have to be somewhere."

Cameron entered the apartment and tossed her keys on the table by the door. She kicked off her shoes and threw her bag into the corner. It had taken her quite some time to learn not to hang everything the moment she removed it but she found once she had that it was liberating.

Feet on the coffee table, however, was something she was still getting used to. She plopped herself next to House on he sofa and took the remote from his unsuspecting hand. He was so flabbergasted that he didn't even protest while she turned off the TV and tossed the control onto the chair on the far side of the room.

"We need to talk," Cameron said.

"Is this 'I'm going to rant for four hours and I expect you to be able to repeat every word I say verbatim tomorrow' we need to talk?" House asked. "Or a 'let's have a calm and productive discussion' we need to talk?"

Cameron rolled her eyes and put her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Oh no, the dreaded 'I'm going to suffocate you' we need to talk," House choked out.

"That's from Devon," Cameron explained. House's face dropped. "Yeah, Devon wanted to give you a hug. Now, why would any three year old what to give you a hug?"

"I'm cute and cuddly in a cool, non-obvious sort of way," House said.

"You've been eating lunch with him," Cameron said. House didn't answer. "You like him."

"No," House argued. "He just lets me watch Spongebob without questioning my sanity."

"He likes you," Cameron said. House gave her a look that was clearly meant to say 'no kidding'. Cameron smiled. "He really does like you." House shrugged. He hadn't wanted her to know he was visiting Devon, although he wasn't sure why.

Cameron put her arms around him again, this time at his waist. She snuggled closer on the couch and into his side until he relented and placed an arm around her in return.

"This one is from me," Cameron said into his chest. "Devon said when you fight you're supposed to say sorry and give hugs. So, I'm sorry."

"Me too," House said. "You gonna tell me your big secret?"

"Ask me again in nine days," Cameron said. "You going to tell me yours?"

"Not yet. I'll let you know," House answered. "Okay?"

"Okay." Cameron lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Really. It's okay."

House nodded. He believed her. And she believed him. That was all that mattered.

Week Four

"I'm melting," Cameron whined as she stepped out of House's office onto his balcony in the hopes of catching at least a little breeze.

"That's Cuddy's line," House said. He was sitting on the edge of his lounge chair and rubbing his chin on the handle of his cane.

"Watch it," Wilson rumbled. He was actually lounging in his chair, his feet propped up on the wall and a bag of peanuts in his hand.

"It is sweltering in my office," Cameron continued, ignoring the boys and their banter.

"I know," House said absently.

"How would know that, you haven't been near my office all day?" Cameron asked.

"Your clothes are sticking to you," House answered. He didn't flirtatiously raise his eyebrows and his voice wasn't laced with suggestion. Wilson and Cameron exchanged a concerned look.

"That's it?" Wilson prodded. "No stomach turning comments to suggest you've seen her look better in less, or remarks about how the clothes show off very specific anatomical parts?" House just stared blankly. "Not even a half-hearted accusation that she's showing off for my benefit?"

House shrugged. Cameron shrugged as well. Wilson was beginning to have second thoughts about this plan of Cuddy's. It was obviously taking a toll on the two of them; keeping secrets was only fun for a little while. Maybe a month was too long. Wilson angled his head toward the door and Cameron nodded her understanding. She looked at House for a moment before exiting to the conference room.

The two friends sat in silence.

"What about Munchausen-by-proxy?" Jasper suggested as she looked over Devon's file with Price and Cameron, who had joined them from the balcony.

"I considered it," Cameron said. "But in reality there's just nobody who's that connected to him. The staff at the group home is very good but … it just doesn't fit."

"As sad as Munchausen-by-proxy is, the fact that nobody could be doing it to this kid is even sadder," Price commented.

"Mmm," Cameron agreed. She was watching House and Wilson out the window and only partly listening.

"Are you having second thoughts about this?" Wilson finally asked.

"I wouldn't say that," House replied.

"I know you wouldn't say that, that's why I'm asking. Are you having second thoughts?" Wilson waited patiently for an answer. It would come.

"She's keeping something from me," House finally said.

Wilson marshaled his self control and managed not to smile. He knew what Cameron was hiding from House, of course. It was the same thing House was hiding from her.

"Are you saying you're not hiding things from her?" Wilson asked.

"You know I am," House replied tiredly. "Jimmy," House took a long pause, "she's told me everything else. Literally, everything. Things she never told her parents, her husband, anyone. And now she's hiding something from me."

"House," Wilson started. "Greg. You're looking for something that isn't there, or you're expecting something that's not coming. This is different. You have to accept that. This will work, as long as you let it."

"Just like that?" House scoffed.

"Yeah, just like that," Wilson said. House looked off into the distance. "Come on," Wilson said after a minute or two. "Let's go save that kid."

"Devon," House said quietly. Wilson looked surprised that House remembered his name. "His name is Devon."

"It's not Cushing's," Price said in frustration. "He's had nothing but weight loss. Cushing's doesn't make any sense."

"I'm just trying to think of something that's cyclical," Jasper snapped back. "You don't have to bark at me."

"Where's a referee whistle when you need one?" House joked as he limped into the conference room. He held up his hands in the familiar 'T' signal. "Coach House calls a time-out. You're hot, you're annoyed and you're obviously useless. Hit the showers." Jasper opened her mouth to protest and House cut her off. "Go. Now. Leave. Separately, together, I don't care. Just get lost."

"Do you have to be so rude?" Cameron asked as Price and Jasper straightened up their notes to leave.

"No but it saves so much time," House said smugly.

"And you're so good at it," Wilson interjected. House stuck his tongue out at him.

"This isn't helping!" Cameron shouted at them. Wilson looked properly ashamed, but House just stared at her. "Look, the A/C is barely functional in the PICU. He's still running a fever and he's prone to febrile seizures. We've got to figure out what's wrong with him. I don't want this hanging over me for the w … the rest of the weekend."

Wilson caught the slip, but thankfully House did not. Or he pretended not to and that was good enough for Cameron. It was Thursday. The fund raiser was Saturday afternoon. It was only another day. She could make it through one more day.

"Alright, time to go see the patient," House said as he began limping out of the room.

"House, you can't brow beat information out of a three year old boy," Cameron said in a warning tone. She was hopelessly attached to Devon and she wouldn't let anyone, not even House, scare or hurt him.

"What kind of monster do you take me for?" House asked hurtfully. His tone was the typical mocking sarcastic one reserved for fending off inquiries about his tactics, but the hurt was real. Did Cameron really think he would terrorize a three year old?

"Owz! Owz!" Devon practically jumped up and down on his bed when House, Cameron and Wilson walked into the PICU.

"It's hot as hell in here!" House groused to no one in particular.

"Owz!" Devon said in shock. "You say a bad word!"

"Oops!" House put his hand to his mouth. "Did I? I wonder how the hell that happened?" Devon giggled despite himself and House smirked at Cameron's outraged expression.

"House!" she hissed. "Don't teach him that! He's only three."

"Oh relax, I'm sure he already knows a whole bunch of other bad words," House said as he perched on the edge of Devon's bed. "Like sh…" he stopped talking when Cameron slapped her hand over his mouth.

Devon giggled some more. House wasn't like most grown-ups Devon knew. He wasn't always so serious and didn't tell Devon what to do unless it was really important. And he liked Spongebob. That pretty much made House the coolest guy alive in Devon's book.

"How you feeling buddy?" House asked the boy.

"Hot," Devon said.

House nodded and took the chart from the end of the bed. He noted Devon's last set of vitals listed his temperature at 101 degrees. House put the chart down and reached out the ruffle the boy's hair. He pulled his hand back slowly and looked intently at the wall for a minute before turning to Cameron.

"Cam, how long has he been here?" House asked. Wilson reached for the chart House had just laid down but Cameron answered immediately.

"Three weeks," Cameron said. "Why?"

"Has he had a haircut?" House asked.

"No," Cameron said with a frown. "What does…" House waved a hand at her.

"He should be sweating like a pig," House commented, out loud but really to himself. "But he's dry as the Sahara. There's no hair to ruffle … Devon show me your teeth." House commanded. Devon complied and House looked at the boy's few teeth carefully. Then he turned to Cameron. "That seem odd to you?"

"His teeth?" Cameron asked as she leaned in to look for herself. Devon's teeth were small and widely spaced. They were too small actually, even for a three year old. And there were only about half as many as Cameron would have expected for a toddler. "The social worker mentioned something about a dental visit not long ago…" Cameron's voice trailed off as she flipped open the case file she'd been carrying with her. "He had his teeth filed recently; they come in pointed."

"I think he has ectodermal dysplasia," House murmured quietly to Cameron and Wilson. Cameron nodded slowly as she added up many of Devon's symptoms. The high fevers even with his mild infections were caused by abnormally developed sweat glands. It also explained the febrile seizures. Without the ability for the body to cool itself, when Devon's fevers spiked they did so with a vengeance.

"That makes sense, but Greg that only accounts for about half of his symptoms," Cameron said. "What about the vomiting and the malnutrition? And the constant infections? There's still some immune problem here."

House tapped his cane thoughtfully on the floor. Devon had been watching the three doctors talk about him quietly and it was scaring him a little. He crawled into House's lap and looked up into his face earnestly.

"M'I real sick?" he asked House quietly. House didn't know what to say. He hated lying but how much truth did three year old orphan need?

"I don't know pal," House said as a compromise. It wasn't really a lie. Devon rested his head on House's chest and despite the audience of nurses watching curiously from the corner he placed an arm around Devon and held him.

The PICU doors swished open behind them and House squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want any more people to see him like this but he wasn't going to shove the kid off him either.

"Hey," Chase's voice said from behind House. "I was just stopping by to check on Devon before I went home."

"Nigel!" Devon said from House's lap.

"Hey Devon, you feeling okay today?" Chase asked. He very carefully did not make any mention of the boy in House's lap, or even acknowledge that he'd noticed. It had months since he'd had any cane shaped bruises on his shins and he intended to keep it that way.

"Devon," House said very slowly. "Why do you call him Nigel?" He was remembering something.

"Cuz he sound like Nigel from the fish movie," Devon said.

"The fish movie?" Wilson asked. Chase shook his head and shrugged, as did Cameron.

"Finding Nemo?" House asked.

"Nemo, Nemo," Devon bobbed his head up and down at House. House grinned and shocked them all by placing a kiss on the boy's head.

"NEMO," House said to Cameron. "NF-kB Essential Modifier Deficiency." He turned to Devon, who was still perched on his lap. "You just helped me figure out why you're so sick."

"Me?" Devon asked. House gave him a nudge and Devon climbed back onto his bed.

"Yup," House nodded as he stood. "Looks like you're even smarter than Cameron and Nigel here."

Devon beamed.

The quartet of doctors stood outside the PICU watching Devon sleep. The case that had plagued nearly every one of Cameron's waking thoughts had finally been solved. They should have been jubilant.

"Forgive my ignorance," Wilson said. "But what's NEMO?"

"NF-kB Essential Modifier is a major regulator of immune responses," Cameron said quietly. She was standing at the glass wall, the fingers of one hand tented against the glass. "It's basically like a master switch for all the immune cells in the body. NEMO is a deficiency in the modifier. Without, the immune system can't be turned on and off when needed."

Wilson nodded as did Chase. It wasn't a common diagnosis, and without a specialty in immunology or genetics, or an insanely insatiable curiosity about all manner of things medical it wasn't something they were likely to have heard of.

"Ectodermal dysplasia is genetically linked with NEMO," Cameron continued, although no one had asked her to elaborate.

"What does that mean for Devon?" Wilson asked. He hadn't spent the kind of time that these three had with the boy, but any child who could have that sort of impact on House was worthy of Wilson's concern.

"It means I should have figured this out a month ago when I first saw him," Cameron said bitterly. She removed her hand from the glass to wipe away a tear. "It means he'll need a bone marrow transplant to replace his immune system."

Wilson and Chase exchanged glances with House at Cameron's tears. House nodded for the two of them to leave and they both nodded. It almost felt as though they were giving condolences to a devastated family.

When they were gone, House laid a hand on Cameron's shoulder, which immediately began to shake with her sobs. He knew she'd been holding them back, not wanting to appear weak in front of Wilson and Chase.

"Oh Greg," Cameron said softly. "I know with a bone marrow transplant he could be healthy, but … he's already had so many problems. He'll still need constant monitoring and attention. Who's ever going to adopt him now?"

"Yeah," House said equally softly as he rubbed her back gently. "Who would do a crazy thing like that?"