Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Once again, thanks for all the reviews last time! I'm sorry this chapter took me a bit longer to get up; I wrote it late at night, which resulted in a lot more edits from the lovely beta. All of you that reviewed really made my day. I've never written a story like this before and it heartens me to know that you are enjoying it.

A/N: Melissa, what can I say? Next time I won't use the word 'that' at all. I wonder how long I can last without it.

The next week passed without any more language incidents, although Weiss had still found reasons to continue giving her nightly lessons. Usually the lessons deviated from learning Afrikaans to learning about each other, and on most occasions – the ones where she wasn't completely exhausted from the day's work in the clinic – they deviated even further from there. More than a few times, she had not spent the night alone on her cot.

The weather was starting to change. The days were still warm, but the nights were becoming progressively colder. Cameron welcomed the temperature change, as the heat had been quite a change from the after-winter she had been experiencing on the East Coast. At any rate, the temperature in the clinic had become much more bearable.

Today, in fact, seemed to be unusually chilly, and Cameron had given blankets to several patients already. It was the first day since her arrival that she hadn't found herself with sweat dripping down her forehead. That was another welcome change.

"Hey, Dr. Cameron." She turned around as she heard Mary's voice. She was glad the language incident last week hadn't permanently marred her relationship with the young nurse; on the contrary, Mary hadn't mentioned the situation since. She noticed the nurse had two other people with her, a girl and a boy. The girl was thin and seemed small for her age, which Cameron thought to be at least sixteen. The boy looked younger, maybe twelve, but he was tall. She could tell they were related, as they both had the same dark hair and dark eyes.

"This is Nomzamo," Mary introduced, indicating the girl, "and her brother, Sipho. Both are here fairly regularly, so I thought I'd introduce them to you. Although," she said, frowning and turning to the children, "You missed your appointment last week."

Nomzamo didn't move, but Sipho quickly opened his mouth to respond. "She wasn't feeling well and took a nap. I didn't want to wake her."

"Ah," said Mary, though she was still frowning slightly. "Well, these meetings are important, Nomzamo, so do try your best to come. Anyway, this," she continued, gesturing at Cameron, "is Dr. Cameron, the newest member of our staff. She's an immunologist from America."

Cameron extended her hand to both children. "Allison is fine," she told them.

Sipho's eyes widened as he shook her hand. "An immunologist?" he repeated. "Like someone who deals with infectious diseases?"

Cameron was momentarily stunned. Her first thought was that she was so relieved to hear the child speak English, especially since it sounded like he and his sister came to the clinic often. Her next thought was of House; his specialty had been infectious diseases, not hers.

Recovering herself, she smiled and shook her head. "No, but good guess. An immunologist deals with the functions – and malfunctions -- of the immune system."

"Ooh," Sipho answered, nodding his head. "So things like AIDS?"

"Yes, like AIDS," she confirmed.

"That's enough, Sipho," Mary interjected. "Dr. Cameron is very busy and we don't want to take up any more of her time. We have to get Nomzamo to her appointment now."

Cameron looked back at the teenage girl. Though her hair was short, her bangs were long enough to fall in front of her face when she moved her head. She seemed disinterested in the clinic and her surroundings in general. Cameron wondered why she was there, and then realized with a pang that the clinic also offered counseling services for rape victims. Judging from the girl's forlorn appearance and apparent discomfort, she assumed that's why she had come.

"Can't I stay out here with Allison?" Sipho asked Mary with a pleading look on his face. "It's so boring sitting in the waiting room by myself for an hour."

Mary was already shaking her head. "No, Sipho, come on, let's go. You can see Dr. Cameron again another time--"

"No, it's okay," Cameron interrupted her, looking at Sipho. "I don't mind if he stays with me. I can keep an eye on him for an hour. He can be my little helper."

Sipho grinned and turned back to Mary. "See? She wants me here."

Mary shrugged and relented. "Fine," she said. Taking Nomzamo by the shoulders, she began to lead her away.

Sipho looked at Cameron again. "We come here every week," he told her. "Nomzamo has to receive counseling. Well, she doesn't have to, but Mary and the other doctor want her to come. And sometimes she takes medicine, too." He dropped his voice. "She was raped."

Cameron winced; she had already figured as much, but it felt strange to hear the girl's brother tell her what had happened in such an emotionless tone. "I'm sorry," was all she could say. Nomzamo probably has HIV or AIDS, she realized. That's why she has to take medication.

"It's not too bad," Sipho said. "I like coming here every week. I want to be a doctor."

Cameron smiled. "That's great!" she said enthusiastically. "We can always use more doctors."

He nodded solemnly. "I know. And the first thing I do when I become a doctor is find a cure for AIDS."

"Wow," she said. "That's very ambitious of you."

He looked at her seriously. "My mother died of AIDS." Cameron froze as pity welled inside of her. "And I was born with HIV."

Cameron could only blink. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. How could he dream of becoming a doctor when his life could very well be over in just a few short years? Or sooner, if he were to contract some kind of disease?

Almost as though he had read her mind, he said, "That's why I'm studying to be a doctor now. I want to find the cure for AIDS if it kills me."

Cameron smiled back weakly. How had he already come to terms with the fact he probably wouldn't live to see his eighteenth birthday? How had he already accepted death? But he hasn't, a voice in her head insisted. He's looking for the cure.

Looking for a cure he's never going to find.

"Well," she said, grabbing another chart, "how would you like to start learning right now?"

He grinned. "You mean – I get to treat patients?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his excitement. "No," she told him, "unfortunately, you can't. But you can help me treat patients."

"Like your little helper?" he asked, using her words from earlier. When she nodded he wrinkled his nose. "I don't like it. It sounds too juvenile. Can I be your assistant instead?"

Cameron quickly stifled another laugh before nodding and saying 'yes.'

"Allison, did you hear me?"

Cameron lifted her head. "I'm sorry," she said with an apologetic smile. "What did you say?"

It was late and, as was their nightly ritual, Cameron and Weiss were in her room. Tonight the language lesson had been very brief, something Cameron wasn't complaining about. Her mind was elsewhere, distracted by memories of the hour she had spent with Sipho. He had been reluctant to leave once Nomzamo had emerged from her meeting with the counselor, and Cameron had been disappointed to see him go. It wasn't every day one met someone intent on saving the world before he could even grow facial hair.

Weiss brushed aside her apology. "I said it was cold and asked if you wanted another blanket."

"Oh…" she said slowly. "Sure."

He pulled a blanket out of the closet and handed it to her. "Where's your mind tonight?" he asked as he sat back down next to her. He gently stroked her cheek. "Are you tired?"

Cameron shook her head. "No – I mean, yes, I am – but that's not it. I was thinking about this boy I met today. He came to the clinic with his sister."

"Ah," Weiss said knowingly. "Sipho and Nomzamo, right?"

Cameron nodded. "Are they that famous?"

"Nomzamo is," Weiss said. "She came into the clinic last month after being gang-raped. She was barely conscious when she arrived. Sipho practically dragged her in through the door."

Cameron's jaw dropped and she eyed Weiss sadly. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "That must have been awful."

"It was," he confirmed. "We weren't sure she was going to make it through the night. She had lost a lot of blood in the attack. She was in a coma for a few hours, but eventually pulled through. Her brother never left her side the entire time."

Cameron bit her lip, thinking about how energetic Sipho had been earlier that day. It pained her to think of him having to sit next to the still body of his sister. She imagined him begging her to wake up, promising her he'd work harder to become a doctor and find a cure for AIDS if she could just pull through. Their mother was dead; if his sister had died, Sipho would have been all alone.

"Does the sister have HIV, too?"

Weiss shook his head. "No – or at least, not yet. We're giving her the triple cocktail to prevent that from happening. Sipho has HIV, though. He was born with it."

"And Nomzamo wasn't?"

"Their mother contracted AIDS in the years between their births. Nomzamo is seventeen; Sipho is just turned twelve. She died when Sipho was two."

"She lived a long time," Cameron murmured.

"She was a fighter," Weiss confirmed.

Cameron smiled sadly. "Sipho told me he wants to be a doctor so he can find a cure for AIDS."

Weiss sighed. "It's always hard to see kids with HIV have the biggest dreams."

She nodded. "It just…it doesn't seem fair. He has the determination. He could – he might be able to find the cure, if he just had the chance…" She felt tears springing to her eyes and hastily turned away from him.

"Come here," Weiss said. He wrapped his arms around her and folded her into his chest. "You and I both know determination isn't enough. They've been working on a cure for AIDS for a long time now and they still haven't found it." Cameron closed her eyes. She knew that was true. But it still didn't seem right that a boy so young could be robbed the chance to find it.

"I know," she whispered. "But it's such a wonderful dream."

Weiss pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "It's not just the dream that's wonderful," he murmured into her hair. "It's that he's the one dreaming it."

A/N: I apologize if this chapter feels more transitional. It's very important for the story, though. I have one more chapter to post before turning back to Cetera Desunt. You'll see why next chapter there will be a short pause...think of it as a midseason hiatus. Until then, I hope you enjoyed and that you leave me a review!