A/N: Again, not mine, obviously. I've never been a fan of Huddy.
House had created a lull in the day and I found myself enjoying the peace while I stayed out of the nurse's way as they sterilized everything.
Finally, I had a patient brought in by his wife in a wheelchair. Shortness of breath, wheezing, chest pains. I immediately ordered an EKG and an echocardiogram to check for heart problems. I was used to being hands on under House because of his mistrust of people and his perchance to blame everybody but himself. When I started in the ER I managed to offend several of the techs by insisting on working the tests myself. Now they relinquished their machines without a word.
The echo was fine and the EKG was spitting its results while I was unhooking the sensors when Mr. Robinson had a violent coughing fit. When he removed his hands from his face they were covered in blood.
"Has that happened before?" I asked as I took some santi-wipes and cleaned him up.
Mrs. Robinson nodded. "Once or twice recently."
"Hm. It might be a sign of pulmonary distress." I checked the reading of the EKG. "Your heart is fine, Mr. Robinson. Let's get a better look at your lungs, shall we?"
His lung x-rays were not pretty. I got the patient situated in a room and took his wife outside in the corridor to discuss the case more.
"Is there anything else you can tell me that's been going on recently? Even if you think it has nothing to do with what is going on it might be helpful."
We took a seat on some chairs across from the room and she placed her finger on her mouth in thought. "Well, he's been depressed lately but he's been having to work late because of some recent layoffs." She smiled at me. "Steve's an insurance salesman, you see. He's worried about getting his pink slip, too, but I try to remind him that God always provides for those in need."
I did not roll my eyes but I really hoped she wouldn't be a fanatic about her religion. Luckily for me, she stopped at that sentence. "Has he been fatigued?"
"Oh, yes. I just attributed it to his job. When he gets home he just slumps into his chair, catching his breath. I keep telling him he's too fat so he's been losing weight recently. Still gasping, too. Poor thing, even on the weekends he doesn't want to get out and about too much."
My mind was starting to get the picture of the diagnosis and I struggled to keep my empathy under control. "Do you have Mr. Robinson on a special diet?"
"No, darling. He's just not eating as much. I guess he's learned the secret of portion control."
I closed the chart and stood, waiting until she had done so as well. "Mrs. Robinson, I am a little concerned with your husband's rapid weight loss. As much as diets and other things work it is recommended to do so gradually so your body does not lose needed nutrients. Also, there was a small spot on your husband's x-ray. Please don't be alarmed- this could be many things. Unfortunately, that might mean more testing."
Mrs. Robinson had paled at my words but she had a resolved look. "Anything you can do to help Steve."
I smiled at her and, although she was a strong woman, I saw her visibly relax. "If you don't mind I'd like to bring in another doctor to consult with."
She nodded and went back into the room to be with Steve.
I took a deep breath and made my way to the elevator. Once on the correct floor I paused for a moment before making my familiar way down the hall. Suddenly, I was at the door to my old conference office without even realizing I had stopped there. Foreman looked up at that time and smiled slightly as he nodded his head. I smiled as well and wiggled my fingers at him when there was a loud boom by my face which made me jump and the glass door rattle. House was looking at me from the other side of the pane, his large hand flat against the glass. I nervously pulled on the ends of my scrub top before opening the door that separated me from his sometimes cruel mouth.
House took some steps back and allowed me into the room. Everyone was looking at me from their places at the conference table but I was pleased to see the visit wasn't going to be in vain.
There were several people I didn't know peering back at me- two women, one blond, one brunette, and a young man along with the familiar doctors Eric Foreman and James Wilson. And, of course, Dr. Greg House.
"What?" he asked, bluntly. "Do you have a hall pass for being out of your section?"
I ignored his snide comment. "I'm not here for you, actually." I turned to the table. "Wilson, I need to speak to you."
Wilson stood immediately. "Sure, Cam. Let me just--"
"Wait!" House interrupted. We both turned and looked at him. "You can't just waltz in here and steal one of my team without consulting with me first."
I rolled my eyes. "He's not one of your team. They are." I gestured at the table.
House had the stubborn glint in his eyes. "I don't care. You can't have him."
"Why not?" I decided to play along for a moment.
"I told you. You have to ask Daddy if the kids can come out to play."
I crossed my arms, studying him. "Can he?"
He crossed HIS arms to mimic me. "Can who do what?"
I had to roll my eyes again. "Can Wilson come out to play?"
"No."
"What? Why not?"
House smiled. "I just don't know if little Jimmy can handle going out by himself with a girl. What if you end up pregnant? Or worse, married." He shivered and grimaced at the "horrible" thought.
"House," Wilson said from slightly behind me.
"Hush," House told him. "Daddy's talking to the female incarnate of Benedict Arnold."
Foreman snorted in laughter.
I turned to glare at him. "You stay out of this, quitter."
"Hey!" he defended. "You quit too."
"You quit first."
"Children!" House demanded our attention. "Technically if the Australian outback had kept their kookaburra nobody would have quit."
"Yes, we would have," Foreman and I said in unison.
House frowned in his disapproval. "Foreman, don't you have something you could be working on?"
Foreman smiled and stretched. "I think you're confused on who's boss here."
"Then find some work and give it to yourself." He started to walk towards his office.
"House! I do need Wilson. I have a patient who needs another opinion and I think--"
He turned around and stopped my speech and walk with a piercing look. "Why are you talking to me about it? Wilson's head of his own department, for God's sake." He turned and I heard him mutter, "Pathetic."
I balled my fist and wanted bad to hit him in the back of his head but he made it safely to his office, glass separating us once more.
"Cameron?" I heard Wilson say.
I turned and smiled at him. "Yes. Come with me?"
"Of course."
We were in the elevator when the rant I was holding came forth. "Where does he get off, calling me pathetic? Why does he always play these childish games? I mean, he's a damn doctor. How the hell did he make it through med school with his freaking attitude? Jackass."
Wilson was looking at me with a little fear while two nurses who were riding down too looked as though I had grown more heads. "Feel better?" Wilson asked.
I shook my head. "Not really. If he's a jackass I am too. I can't believe I feel into his trap again."
Wilson cleared his throat. "If it makes you feel any better he is probably sulking in his office because you and Foreman hurt his feelings."
I smiled wickedly. "Aw, poor baby got his feelings stomped on? Karmic justice. Keeps it up and he will never talk coffee out of me."
"Coffee?"
The doors opened and the nurses escaped. "He's been bugging me about coming back to his team. Do you know what that's about?"
Wilson shrugged as the metal box disposed us to our destination. "He hasn't mentioned it at all. The only time he discusses anything about you he's usually bitching about Chase."
"Why does he hate Chase so much?"
"You got me. Tell me about this patient."
I gave him a rundown of everything I had come across and then we entered the room containing Mr. and Mrs. Robinson.
"Hello, dear," the woman greeted.
"Steve and Karen Robinson, I'd like you to meet a colleague and friend of mine, Dr. James Wilson. He's a specialist that I believe will be able to assist us in diagnosing this medical obstacle."
The patient looked pale even against the generic white hospital sheets. "What's it you think I got?"
Wilson took the question. "It sounds like you might have had some abnormal findings on your x-ray. We're about to take a look."
"Abnormal?" Steve repeated. "Do I have cancer?"
The oncologist in Wilson perked immediately. "What makes you ask that?"
"His family history isn't exactly clear of the disease," his wife supplied. She looked at me. "We've been talking since you left. We're prepared."
Her husband nodded before having a coughing spasm- void of blood this time.
Wilson looked at me. "The x-rays?" he asked in his kind way, lifting an eyebrow slightly.
I offered the Robinson's a smile. "We'll be back."
Wilson and I found a semi-secluded area and we looked at the x-rays together. He found my area of concern immediately.
"What do you think?" I asked him after a quiet moment of study.
"Well, I am hesitant to jump to any conclusions without a few more tests." He squinted closer to the film before looking back at me. "But between us I think you were right to bring me in."
I exhaled slowly. "I was hoping I was wrong."
He placed a hand on my shoulder. "I know how you feel."
My name was paged overhead back to the ER's nurses station.
"Go on. I'll take care of the Robinson's."
I smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks, James."
