Chapter 4-Questions and more questions

Disclaimer: I own nothing from House-so sad.

Cameron turned the key to House's apartment door and pushed it open slowly. Grabbing his reluctant arm, she helped him over to his plush couch.

House sat down with a grunt while Cameron placed his cane on the other side of him. House' s blue eyes followed Cameron around the apartment suddenly wondering in his perverted thoughts if there was anything "personal" he may have left out by mistake. The thing House didn't understand was if he did, why did that bother him?

"Can I get you anything while I' m up?" she called from the kitchen.

"A glass of water would be nice." He smirked, "Thanks, Mom."

Cameron rolled her eyes as she opened the refrigerator door. She bent down to inspect the shelves. No wonder he's so thin, she thought, he lives on water and alcohol. She shook her head and poured a glass of filtered water and handed it to her patient.

"Here you go, "Cameron said handing it to House. He grabbed it eagerly. She noticed his hands trembling a bit and wondered if it was part of the illness or some other reason. He drank it up in one gulp before inching himself away from her.

Cameron decided to ignore that movement and refused to take it personally. She sat gazing at his profile for several minutes while he flipped the television stations on the remote.

"Can I help you, Nurse Nightingale?"

Cameron sighed. "Why do you do that? I am just trying to take care of you and you start in with the sarcasm."

"You're always trying to take care of me," he retorted without facing her.

Cameron said nothing. House hated the awkwardness. He turned to face her.

"Why did you become an immunologist? It doesn't seem like the kind of profession that would be your first choice."

Cameron sat for a moment waiting for the comments about how maybe she wanted to be a call girl or something, but it never came. Could he actually be serious, she thought?

"Well", Cameron said slowly waiting for House's rejection, "my original dream was to be a dancer. I loved it. I practiced everyday." She smiled at the memory. "It was a beautiful dream."

House shut off the TV. He looked in her eyes and saw the devastation that was there. He bit his tongue on the comment that first came to his head 'what, did mommy and daddy crush your dream?' Instead he simply asked in a raspy voice,

"What happened?"

"I did," Cameron quipped. "I went out ice skating one day and hurt my ankle so badly that even with an operation and therapy, it would never be the same again."

House sensed the sadness in her voice. It made him feel strange, but he wasn't sure if he hated the feeling or not.

"Why an immunologist? Why not sports medicine seeing as how you loved dancing."

Cameron frowned. "Dancing is not a sport. Besides, you know how I feel about sports,"

House raised his eyebrows. "Feel? Why I don't know what the word means."

Cameron's eyes twinkled. "You know exactly what it means, but you choose to avoid it."

"Like you're doing right now?" House interrogated. "You haven't answered my question."

Cameron sighed. "An immunologist seemed like the most obvious choice for me."

"Yeah," House said sarcastically, "Definitely obvious."

"What I mean is that when I decided to become a doctor, I wanted to be one that had a common thread for all humanity. Flaws in an immune system are something we can all experience at one point or another. It is a universal illness."

House smiled coyly at her reply. "Nice rebuttal, but I'm not buying it, not entirely anyhow. I'm thinking that you did hurt your ankle but not as badly as you tell yourself you did. It was the escape clause you parents had been searching for. You were forbidden to dance anymore in case you were to 'injure yourself again.' They wanted to find you a suitable career that didn't hold so many risks. Perhaps they wanted you to be in sports medicine or pediatrics thinking that that might satisfy your need for dancing or even a motherly instinct that would come up to interfere with your education. When you decided that you would be an immunologist that was your way of rebelling. You don't care about a common thread for humanity, crap. That's what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night. The ironic thing is that you choose a specialty with the word "immune" in it. You are not immune to anything thrown your way whether physically or emotionally. It sticks to you like flies to honey. "

House had avoided Cameron's eyes the entire time. When he finished speaking, he saw that moist tears had formed at the corner of the beautiful gray eyes. House was just guessing about her past. Maybe he had hit closer to home than he thought.

"Cameron…"

"Don't," she said sniffling a bit. "I don't know why you have to be so cruel. Maybe I should be leaving." She stood up to walk away.

"I was just trying to be honest."

Cameron stopped and turned to stare into his blue eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. She wiped her eyes with her hand only to see a tissue under her nose. She looked over at House. He tried to grin.

"Thank you," Cameron said. She looked back at him half expecting him to turn back on the TV and ignore her, but he didn't. He was still looking at her with such a sad expression, one she didn't think she had ever seen before.

"Are you immune to anything?" She questioned eager for a reply.

House turned his gaze away from her suddenly becoming uncomfortable with the question.

"I am immune to everything." With that he turned the TV back on.

I hope you all like. If I get enough reviews by tonight I should have another chapter up very soon. I decided to break yup the one I just wrote into two since it would be so long. Thank you to all who have taken the tiem to review.