Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love. (Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey)

Warning: graphic stuff, fluff, and some questionable medical information and basics

Four days later.

"Chase!"

Dr. Robert Chase looked up from his crossword puzzle at House, with the business end of a pencil in his mouth and a deer-in-the-headlights look on the rest of his face. House grudgingly admitted to himself that it was amazing Chase didn't topple backwards, with his feet perched precariously on top of the conference room table.

"Suit up and scrub up," House barked, tossing a green file folder at the intensivist before hobbling for the coffeemaker. The folder landed on the younger man's chest. Foreman, who had just finished washing his own mug, stepped forward to Chase as the folder was being opened. A set of blond eyebrows rose up to a darker blond hairline.

"New case?" Foreman asked.

"No—this is the file for Christopher Cameron," Chase said in bewilderment, lowering the file to his lap and gazing up at his boss, who is presently fixing himself a mug of coffee. Foreman arched a brow, taking the file from Chase's hands and taking a closer look at it.

"The circumferential Z-plasty surgery is scheduled for today—Dr. Dominic Cartwright is leading it, and it starts in," Foreman checked his watch, "20 minutes."

"Well, what are you waiting for, Blondie?!" House boomed, hooking the handle of his cane onto Chase's left foot and pulled it towards him. Chase yelped, managing to correct his balance and leap out of his chair before his backside collided with the floor, looking indignant. He was about to give voice to his outrage when he took a good look at House.

Chase backed down.

"I'll go suit up."

Wilson found Cameron standing all by herself in the visitor's area outside the operating theater, her slender frame leaning against one of the four pillars.

"How long have you been standing there, Cameron?" he asked gently.

Cameron raised her head and turned slightly to look back at him. Wilson felt a pang—when had he ever seen Cameron's mouth drawn so tightly?

He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her to a nearby chair. Cameron plopped down gracefully on the hard plastic seat. After sitting beside her and making the obvious gesture, she rested her head on his shoulder, relishing this contact with a sympathetic human being as Wilson wrapped his left arm around her and squeezed gently.

She needed this—especially when the man who should be here with her wasn't there to do so.

Chase stood next to Dr. Cartwright, a silent observer during the entire procedure. When Chase entered the operating room in his yellow scrubs, Dr. Cartwright had already started excising the constriction band around Christopher's leg.

"Thought you might need help here, Dr. Cartwright," Chase said by way of introduction.

The older man raised a silvery eyebrow at the newcomer.

"Appreciate it, Dr. Chase," Cartwright replied in a deep baritone voice. "We're just about done freeing the band. I'll need another pair of eyes and opinions when I start reconnecting the tissues and skin in a bit."

"Right," Chase said quietly, moving to stand next to the burly surgeon. As he walked, Chase looked up to the observation deck and saw two familiar figures standing behind the glass.

House popped two pills into his mouth and dry swallowed them without breaking his gaze from the procedure going on below him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a splash of bright red reflecting on the clear glass.

"Did you make sure Ferdinand the bull didn't follow you here, Dr. Cuddy?" House asked gruffly, breaking the awkward silence after ten minutes. "I swear, you'll bring more dough to the hospital if you can ask Spain to hold the running of the bulls here in New Jersey and use that blouse to lead them."

"I'll bring it up in the next meeting with the board of directors," Cuddy replied tartly, crossing her arms under her exceptional cleavage and leaning against the wall opposite House, looking down at the operating room. "I see Dr. Chase has graced the team with his presence—you don't trust Cartwright?"

House shrugged. "Cartwright's okay, but at his age, I figured he needed fresh eyes, so I sent Chase down there to donate his."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "For your information, Cartwright has excellent eyesight for a man his age, and I've yet to his hand shake during surgery."

"Oh—well, let's just hope Chase doesn't distract the nurses down there with his pretty then."

"That's what masks are for, House. Have you met with Cameron yet?"

House didn't answer; Cuddy noticed the muscles in his jaw clenching through his stubble and didn't press the issue.

Hours later, Cameron sat next to Christopher's bed in the ICU. Chase walked into the room, cleaned up and back to wearing a lab coat over a mustard-yellow shirt, plaid tie, and dark brown pants. Secretly, Cameron wondered for the umpteenth time how a good-looking guy could have such an atrocious taste in clothes.

"How're you holding up, Cameron?" Chase asked quietly.

"Better," Cameron replied wearily. She took Christopher's right hand into her own, rubbing a thumb over his delicate knuckles as she once again ran a critical eye over his tiny body. It's finally done, she thought to herself in relief.

"Christopher's quite the little trooper," Chase said, grinning.

"Thanks." Cameron beamed up at her colleague briefly before frowning in concern. "Chris still has a long way to go, though."

She bit her lower lip.

"Cartwright told me after they wheeled Chris in here," Chase murmured, moving to place a comforting hand on Cameron's shoulder, and then thought the better of it. He still hasn't forgotten the time she went high on Kalvin's party drugs—"He might have to undergo distraction osteogenesis to lengthen his leg."

They winced in unison. Distraction osteogenesis is a radical reconstructive procedure that involves surgically fracturing the bone into two. Special surgical screws will then be put into place in order to move the two ends apart, slow enough so that new bone can grow in the gap. It works in achieving the goal of lengthening bone, but it is an excruciating process for the patient.

Cameron squeezed her baby's hand.

"My son is not going to get that surgery," Cameron whispered harshly. "I'm not going to put him through that pain."

It is 10:45 PM at PPTH. A tall man is limping in the direction of the ICU, pausing at the entrance and looking inside briefly.

Cameron is slumped on a chair next to Christopher's bed, wrapped in a large purple blanket made of some kind of fluffy material. Little Christopher looks peaceful in his drug-induced sleep, his tiny chest rising and falling, with the occasional twitch of little hands in the air.

House carefully entered the room; he didn't want to wake up Cameron. He paused beside Christopher, reaching out with his free hand to touch a chubby cheek. In sleep, Christopher jerked his head, making a weird face before it relaxed back into peaceful repose. House grinned and placed a tiny package next to Christopher's side.

House then hobbled quietly to where Cameron slept, taking the luxury of time and being unobserved to look at her. On impulse, he leaned forward and softly kissed the corner of her lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Even as he tore out of the parking lot on his motorcycle, House had no idea why he did that.

Dr. Lisa Cuddy is walking away from the counter at a drugstore a few miles away from PPTH, looking down at the contents of a plastic bag when she suddenly collided against a solid form entering the premises. Cuddy gasped in surprise and let go of the bag.

Two people cried out "I'm sorry!" before recognizing the person they bumped into.

"Cuddy!"

"Wilson!"

Flustered, the two doctors bent down and collected the items that scattered out of the plastic bag. Most of the items were her basic toiletries, but there was one she was anxious to collect and hide before her colleague spotted it.

As she sorted the things into the bag, she noticed that Wilson had paused. Inwardly groaning, Cuddy looked up at Wilson's gaze of shock, holding the home pregnancy test kit in his hand.

Sources for surgery/treatment:

http://www.surgery.