Author's Note: hangover + impeding doom Thirteen! BTW, at this point I'd like to clarify that in the story House is pretty much physically stable again. I would say mentally stable too, but let's face it, the man is never mentally stable.

"If the room could just stop spinning, long enough for me to get dressed, I'll go to work," Thirteen said, as though trying to make a deal or a compromise with her hangover. But the room did not comply with her wishes, and she still had work obligations to fulfill. She groaned as she sat up, the sunlight pouring into her room through her large glass door that led to the backyard, filled with weeds and stray cats. Pain shot through her skull as the effects of last night's alcohol took hold of her ability to cognitively function, or rather, her inability to cognitively function. She yanked the curtains closed and then endured her usual morning routine that seemed to last ten times longer than usual. She was fine, a little worse than usual but fine, until she entered the bathroom. She peered into the mirror with trepidation, realizing it was the first time she had truly looked at herself for a long time. She expected that she'd see signs of Huntington's all over her, something to indicate the impeding short life span that was certainly her fate. Anything at all to age her or make her seem defective.

But she looked fine. Even traces of a hangover could not be perceived without careful scrutiny. Her face was as young and perfect as ever, with those eternal blue eyes staring at her. For some reason, seeing such a beautiful girl staring back at her instead of an aged or deformed woman infuriated Thirteen more than anything else could.

It was just senseless. The genetic disease that she had inherited from her mother that would take her life did not have to exist. She wasn't one of those people like House who just wasted life. She appreciated it, even now, with a hangover and melancholy sensation that refused to leave, she still appreciated being here. She shook her head, unable to stand looking at her young, healthy face that guised a serious genetic malformation.

She threw on clothes without much concern as to what it was she was putting on, and left for work, grabbing her cell phone a few bucks for some decent coffee.

"I refuse to participate this time," Cameron said," It's beyond sick. That's just morbid Chase."

"No, it's not what you think-"

"No!" she said, looking upset at both Chase and Foreman. They had begun a betting pool on how long it would take Wilson to forgive House.

"It was just a joke! It's not like we were putting real money on it! It was just banter, Cameron." Chase said defensively.

"We both think that they're such good friends, they'll get past it," Foreman included, trying to sugarcoat what appeared to be a pretty dark subject, "We weren't trying to be cruel."

"I know," she said, "It's just that House and Wilson…" Cameron said, so flooded with emotion she was unable to continue.

" It's just that your little bleeding heart doesn't know who to pity more," Chase said, adding quickly when Cameron appeared offended that ," It's sweet. Unnecessary but sweet. You don't have to feel sorry for everyone all the time. They're big boys, Cameron. They can take care of themselves. "

"Well, at least one of them can," she said.

"Don't tell me you're getting an itch for House again, are you?" Foreman said with that teasing smile of his.

"No, most girls don't get that until after they sleep with him," Cameron retorted. She then looked at both of them, and said in a more serious tone," Actually, I don't feel that way about him anymore. Not even a little," she said. Chase stared at her briefly, the part of him still in amor with Cameron that was always kept suppressed dared to emerge from his eyes. He quickly darted them away.

"Got to go. Surgery and lives to save and all that daily routine stuff is calling. Come get me if you need some gauze or stitches for that bleeding heart," Chase said with a smile as he scurried away. Cameron rolled her eyes, determined that she would not visit House repeatedly like she had been doing, just to prove to Chase and Foreman that she was not a "bleeding heart."

Well…I won't get caught doing it anyway, she thought with a smile.

"And so I told House that it isn't being hopeless optimistic to believe there is some life after death. I mean sure, there isn't hardcore proof that there is something, but there certainly isn't any hardcore proof that there isn't anything," Kutner said to Thirteen as they paid for coffee in the hospital cafeteria. She had already finished her decent coffee, and when she ached for more to drive away her pulsating hangover, Kutner had offered to pay. But listening to him babbling when she could barely function a simple conversation almost wasn't worth the price.

"You sound just like Wilson," she said, then paused. "Isn't the fact that there isn't any proof of a god proof that there isn't a god?"

"You sound just like House," Kutner replied," and no, I don't believe so. But considering the fact that you look like uttering another syllable to this debate will cause you to slap me, I'll call it a stalemate."

"Very wise choice," she said, "and speaking of House, how is he?"

"He's doing pretty well. He actually asked for you, as a matter of fact," Kutner said a little suspiciously.

"That's odd. Was he delirious, or was he just about to make some joke about me?" she said, thinking about the blow up doll reference he'd made a few days ago.

"No, he seemed genuinely worried. That's what kinda weirded me out," Kutner said. He looked at Thirteen as though he were about to launch into a tedious interrogation or anecdote, but he just gave her a brief smile.

Does he know? Thirteen thought, but decided against it. House wouldn't stoop so low as to tell everyone she was sick. He just…wouldn't do it. They had an a nonverbal agreement that he would not mention it to anyone, at least, that's what she had sensed when they were in that room and he uttered "I didn't know."

But then again, she had misinterpreted him before, and she'd seen him do more unethical things than spread gossip. But still, it would be so unlike House to do something like that behind her back…

"Did he mention anything about me to you?" she said carefully choosing her words to make the question as vague as possible.

"No. He just told me he wanted to see you."

"Oh," she said, a little relieved, "Well, okay then."

"Is there something wrong that you want to tell me about?" Kutner asked.

"No," she said.

"No there is nothing wrong, or no there is nothing you want to tell me about?"

"No, there is nothing I want to tell you about, "she said, trying to sound firm to convince both him and herself she really did not want to divulge.

"Point taken," Kutner said, sounding slightly offended. Thirteen was just about to begin an apology when Cameron approached them.

"How is House doing?" Cameron asked.

"He's fine" Kutner replied, "In fact, Thirteen was just on her way to see him. You should go together."

"I was?" Thirteen asked with a slightly caustic tone.

"Forgive her, she has a hangover, and combine that with her impeccable morning personality and you've got yourself one cheery doctor."

"I'm not that worried about House," Cameron lied, "I mean, I saw him yesterday but I was just wondering if there were any changes."

"I am actually on my way to see him," Thirteen said, considering what Kutner had told her about how House had been asking for her. She wondered if he was just being a pain or if there really was something important he wanted to tell her.

"Oh, okay. I'm not that worried," Cameron emphasized.

"I know. You already said that," Thirteen said with a smile as they began walking towards his room. Cameron's face reddened, but her blush slowly faded as they strolled through the hospital's corridors, both of them wishing to insinuate with their leisurely pace that it was just a casual visit and that neither of them was really worried. During this walk, small talk ensued deviating from the original topic of House to vaguer, "safe" subjects as medicine. Until Cameron innocently asked, "So why did you decide to become a doctor?"

"That's kind of a personal question." Cameron waited for her to elaborate, lifting her eyes to Thirteen's face in anticipation.

"To help people. Why else?" Thirteen said.

"There has to be more to it than that," Cameron said, sensing that she was suppressing an honest answer.

Thirteen shrugged. Not wanting to stir tension in the conversation she added, "That's the gist of it anyway."

"Did you ever want to be anything else?"

"Nope."

"Oh c'mon, you didn't even pause to think about it."

"I really never wanted to be anything else than what I am."

"You must feel accomplished," Cameron said with a smile.

"Yeah, you'd think I would," Thirteen said in a voice so low she was almost speaking to herself. Cameron's face expressed a slight concern, but they had reached House's room and their conversation seemed to come to a close on that note.

"Wow, what a coincidence. I was just thinking about both of you." House said.

"That's sweet," Cameron said.

"With a bottle of chocolate syrup and whipped cream-"

"You could have stopped right there," Cameron said, her tone slightly more irritated.

"You told Kutner you wanted to see me?" Thirteen asked.

"We can talk later," he said, shifting his eyes towards Cameron as though indicating her presence prevented him from bringing up whatever subject it was he wished to discuss. This gesture was not unnoticed by Cameron.

"What is it?" Cameron asked," Something's wrong. I can tell by the way you two are acting. Is something else wrong with House? "

Cameron looked helpless with those pleading eyes.

"It's not me," he said slowly, "it's Thirteen."

"Shut up." Thirteen said, louder and sharper than she intended.

"What is it?" Cameron asked, her voice still fraught with concern. She looked at Thirteen who was on the verge of tears she was only able to suppress by years of practice.

"Why are you doing this?" Thirteen asked House, anger emerging in her voice.

"If anyone should know, it's her."

"No one should know."

"You can't live in denial."

"Why not? I've been doing it for awhile now, and I think I've gotten pretty good at it."

"I could tell the moment you stepped in her you have a hangover and are sleep deprived. You don't seem to be handling it very well."

"I can handle it just fine."

A long pause followed. Cameron felt misplaced, as though she were eavesdropping on a conversation she was not meant to hear. Thirteen was furious, not solely at House but at her entire situation.

"Do whatever you want," she said as she stormed out of the room. Cameron felt compelled to go after her, but House grabbed her by the wrist. Not that he was physically capable of restraining her, but the mere gesture made Cameron halt.

"Why did you do that to her?" Cameron asked.

"Because she's a liar."

"What do you mean?"

"She's lying to herself. She can't accept what's happening to her. That's why she told me. Because by telling me, the one person she would most definitely not tell a secret to, she is able to convince herself it's not real."

"Or maybe she trusted you. And you just betrayed her."

Cameron turned to leave.

"Don't you want to know what's wrong with her?"House asked.

"She'll tell me if she wants me to know."

"No she won't. That's kind of the point."

"We'll see," Cameron said as she walked out of the room.

Author's Note: She still doesn't know! Ahhh!! Anyway, Cameron's so sweet, I just love her character. You'll find out more why House wanted to tell Cameron about Thirteen's condition on the next chapter I am working on right now.