You all continue to amaze me. Thanks so much to everyone still reading this, especially: Shikabane-Mai, AR, Abbeyannmd, Some Crazy Lady, coco1116, Elliesmeow, mo, CaptainTish, abc2, SavvyKitten, hahasxyitch, Eleanor J., nirky, HigherThanSoulCanHope, huddytilidie, csi7, ButterNJam, gabiroba, Calico Star, Bera-Moon, seriousmelo, MrsHouse, JD11, Kish32, and Lady Sidhe. You guys are incredible!
Chapter 12: Discovered Check
The first thing he noticed was the blood – not much, but still there, and that was enough: smeared on the arm of the sofa, a haphazard path of scarlet drops meandering lazily across the carpet. His eyes followed it across the floor, over broken pieces of glass, finally, thankfully, landing on Cuddy. She knelt beside his unconscious patient, disheveled, but moving, breathing. He could only see her in profile – a view that could easily hide many wounds – but for now, that would have to be enough.
Cuddy twisted her head, met his gaze. Relief was there, rushing out before she could hold it back, and he knew somehow that if Wilson or Cameron or anyone else but him had been in the doorway when it had opened, the look in her eyes – solace, security, appreciation – wouldn't have quite been the same.
Still, House hung back. They both knew they needed a moment to breathe – if he came within an arm's length of her, the pull would be magnetic: he'd have no choice but to gather her into his arms, and, at the moment, couldn't fathom a way to pass such a tender gesture off as their usual, bordering on sexual harassment, give-and-take.
It was an odd feeling, this electric attraction to another human being that was so much more than that – encompassed the overpowering urge to apologize for… anything really, but especially things over which he had no control. She could scream at him now – argue over anything: the patient, the boy, why the hell he still (thankfully) had the key to her office – and he still would've been relieved to hear the sound of her voice.
The others hurried through the door, jostling both him and Ari, who was still attached to his legs. Quick reflexes enabled House to reach out and snatch Cameron. "Take the kid," he mumbled, peeling the child gently from his leg and handing him off.
Ari protested with an unintelligible whine, and House took his eyes from Cuddy for the first time since he had spotted her, bending down to Ari's level. "Don't worry." His voice was gruff, but he meant it gently and the boy seemed to understand. "She really wouldn't hurt a fly."
The boy seemed to doubt this, but quietly accepted his fate at Cameron's side, his dark eyes locked on Cuddy. "He hurt her."
"Who?" Cameron asked, and something of a conversation continued, but House heard it only as a droning, not words.
"Are you all right?" It was a question he should have asked, but Wilson beat him to it, crouching beside Cuddy, a hand on her shoulder.
She didn't answer, instead nodding at the patient. "He seized. Lasted about thirty seconds."
The man's hands were cut, streaked red: hopefully the only source of all that blood, even if the wounds didn't look deep enough. Chase was stooped beside the patient, listening for breath and feeling for a pulse. "Breathing's shallow, pulse's a little weak,"
Ever the gentleman, Wilson helped Cuddy to her feet. She winced, left arm holding the right awkwardly, tightly against her body. Foreman returned with two security officers; they mumbled to each other, one leaving again while speaking into a squawking walkie-talkie: something about nurses and a gurney.
"Hey." Wilson eyed Cuddy with a frown, hesitantly placing a hand on her elbow and nodding to Chase. "Go grab a first aid kit."
"Don't," Cuddy warned, stilling them both with the glare she usually reserved for House alone. Wilson smartly retracted his hand and Cuddy turned her stare on House. She was the first to speak, the forced strength in her voice causing it to waver – a stutter that anyone else there could interpret as barely concealed anger. "I gave you twenty minutes."
House risked a few slow steps forward, leaving only a few feet and the shattered glass between them. Her poise was remarkable – her hands might not have been on her hips and she was obviously trying to mask pain, but still she exuded a conviction that was clearly not to be trifled with.
Only half a second was needed to gauge the response she wanted: that much had been clear enough the moment any words had left her mouth. "Must've forgotten to sync our watches," he mused, glancing at his own watch for effect, frowning. "Mine says I've still got two left."
She narrowed her eyes – a textbook move for her, but somehow he could see her heart wasn't in it. "If you hadn't spent so much time avoiding your patient you might have – "
"What can I say but you bring out the best in people, Cuddy. Symptoms, I mean."
"Well, hallucinations and seizures certainly make your patient more interesting," she responded dryly, tiredly. "You must be thrilled."
"Hardly." His tone was grimmer than he had intended – given the situation, nothing could have been more removed from the truth. And he could see it now, not the source but the blood, a drop squeezing from between the fingers of the hand she held over her elbow and falling to the floor. "You're a spoilsport. Case's closed. And you're dripping."
"Case closed? Just like that?" She was dangerously pale, and he was thisclose to damning his gruff exterior and helping her into a chair. Glancing at her elbow, she shifted her left arm, trying to catch the blood. "I'm fine."
Ordinarily, he would've had some retort for that, but any words now were only prolonging the time until he succeeded in examining her arm. "Respiratory symptoms indicate serositis. Kidney dysfunction's continued despite treating the PHP. And now neurolog– "
She didn't wait for him to finish, didn't need to, they had fallen into such a seamless rhythm of late. "Only three criteria. You need at least one more."
"Like I don't know that…. Foreman!" he shouted, louder than was necessary. "Path Lab. Now."
Foreman sighed, standing, ready for an argument. "How many times are we going to – " He trailed off, glancing from House to Cuddy, seemed to form a question but obviously deciding against it, leaving the room.
"That should bring me up to four. But Chase," House continued, speaking to Cuddy but pausing until he had the younger doctor's attention, "is going to check him over for a rash, just for good measure. And I mean all over." The thought of this seemed to catch Chase somewhere between dubious and horrified. "Don't give me that look. He's gentle as a kitten now. Cuddy must've flashed him the funbags – he'll be comatose for at least another – "
This time, Cuddy hadn't spoken to interrupt him, but finding her small frame suddenly pressed against him and in his arms served just the same purpose. He hadn't seen her step over the broken glass toward him – in actuality, a distance of only a few feet, but a seeming chasm over the past months and years.
This would be the stuff of hospital gossip for days, a headline, for once, that was not of his making. He could almost hear the self-proclaimed gossip columnists now: and without any reason or seduction, the Dean of Medicine fairly launched herself into Dr. Gregory House's arms (Yes, the Dr. House, and no, not to smack him, though he would've deserved it, what with the way he treats her)….
Miraculously, the world continued without them.
The gurney arrived, its wheels squeaking, the sound seeming to wrest Chase from stunned and back to somewhat useful, his mouth snapping shut as he busied himself with the patient. Voices floated from somewhere outside House's peripheral vision.
"Is Uncle Eli dead?"
These were the first words Ari had spoken that had been crystal clear, and Cameron jumped in to answer. "No, but he's very sick…."
This should have relieved the little boy somewhat, but still his voice was quick and urgent. "He hit her, he hit her with the glass and there was blood and I pushed him but it wasn't hard and he fell over and he started shaking and Dr. Cuddly said – "
"What?" Cameron's voice asked. "Who?"
"Dr. Cuddly. She said to open the door and find somebody to help." Ari paused, gulping in a breath. "I didn't push him hard, only I didn't want him to hurt her again."
"It's not your fault," Cameron tried to soothe.
But Ari quickly switched gears, seeming to forget the emotion of the last few seconds as quickly as a goldfish that is once again surprised by its own reflection when it makes another turn around its bowl.
"I told her she liked him – "
"Oh!" There it was, the shock of Cameron's recognition, but the boy didn't allow her much time to revel in it.
" – and he likes her too. Where's Uncle Eli going?"
Cameron fumbled; if all kids could be perfect distracters like that, maybe they really weren't half bad.
And for half a moment, even surrounded by a flurry of activity and the sterile, judging walls of the hospital, House had Cuddy to himself. She hid her face in his chest for just a moment, her breath hot against him, shuddering, and he brought a hand up to the back of her head, knowing that though this was against everything the two of them had – literally – fought for, right now it was just what they both needed. Any rules had always been hers and he'd just played by them (and even then, only when it suited his own purposes); as strong as she was there would doubtless be very few moments when she'd profess to needing him at all, and he wasn't about to miss the first of them.
She pulled away slowly at first, lingering, then more quickly when she seemed to realize where they were. But the damage was done. House took advantage of the disorientation their position brought her, catching her wrist before she could hurry away from him. She gasped, quickly biting her lip to stifle it, and he flicked his eyes to hers long enough to silently apologize, to tell her that this was for her own good.
A deep, jagged gash ran halfway down the outside of her forearm, the blood still flowing, dripping down to her elbow, finally spilling over her cupped hand and escaping through her fingers.
"You do bleed," he gasped, feigning surprise, teasing to cover the rush of concern. "Some of the nurses were starting to – "
"I wonder how that rumor got started." She pulled her arm away, unable to hide how this hurt her even if she cringed only just perceptibly.
"Don't think you're going to be able to keep this carpet without a fight. I've heard the Dean gets really cranky about potential biohazards." He thought he saw her smile, didn't like the way the blood still bubbled from her wound and let his voice soften a shade. "That looks pretty bad."
"It's nothing," she insisted.
He gave her a look before lumbering over to the coat rack, taking the silk scarf he found hanging there and pressing it firmly to her arm. If she complained about ruining the scrap of fabric, he had half a dozen quips at the ready, but she accepted the makeshift bandage silently, gratefully. Her blood stained his fingers and he wiped them carelessly on his pants.
The room was suddenly much too quiet – everyone was watching him strangely, almost expectantly. The gurney had been noisily wheeled from the room, but Chase hadn't followed it, and House turned to the younger doctor, annoyed. "Why are you still here?"
Chase looked ready to make a comment but seemed to decide against it, shrugging. If he thought House hadn't noticed the way he raised his eyebrows at Cameron as he left the room, he was very much mistaken, but any chastisement would have to wait until later.
"Babysitting duty," House declared crisply, facing Cameron. "Check him over in the clinic and call Social Services."
Not seeming at all happy with this arrangement, Ari folded his arms and scowled at Cameron. Cuddy stepped in. "It's okay. Dr. Cameron works for Dr. House. She'll take good care of you."
Still Ari seemed skeptical, looking Cameron up and down. "Here," House offered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, handing it to the boy. "She tries to pull anything funny, you hold down this button." He demonstrated, and Cuddy's cell phone chirped to life. He retrieved it from her desk and slipped it into his own pocket. "Got it, Spidey?"
Ari cocked his head. "If she's number two, who's number one? Your mom?"
"Voicemail," House answered through gritted teeth; Cameron was suppressing a grin, but not very well. "It comes that way. Now, shoo."
"You'll come back?"
"Yeah, sure," he replied, the words garbled with Cuddy's, "Of course."
When Cameron held out her hand, Ari took it without further argument, letting her lead him out of the office but turning back to watch them before disappearing into the clinic.
His hand was on Cuddy's elbow – House noticed only when she shifted, pressing more solidly against him. The pad of his thumb circled over her skin, the response so automatic it was as if just the feel of her had triggered it. She relaxed against him with a sigh, her head tilting back to rest against his shoulder.
"Exactly how long have you had Cuddy's cell on your speed dial?"
It was Wilson, almost forgotten in the corner. He had been watching silently the entire time and now stood with a smirk, arms folded.
Not bothered enough by Wilson's presence to completely move out of House's grasp, Cuddy still straightened, pulling slightly away from him. House frowned. "Don't even start."
"You don't even have me on speed dial. You said you didn't know how to program it."
"Is somebody feeling a little left out? I bet there are plenty of patients in the cancer ward dying to meet you." He turned to Cuddy. "Jimmy here's got magic sperm – the cure to cancer. May not be FDA approved, but – "
"Right now, I'd say base insinuations aren't exactly your best option," Wilson interjected.
"Oh, like you'll say anything in front of…." House turned to Cuddy. She had grown suddenly, impossibly, paler, all color drained from her face, as if her last show of authority and the final assurances to the boy had sapped the strength from her. Pushing gently, House guided her back to the couch, lowering her onto it. "Cuddy?"
"I'm fine."
"No. You're not."
"Dr. Cuddy?" One of the security guards poked his head in the door and entered, holding a clipboard. "I need you to – "
"Unless those can be signed with blood, they can wait," House snapped. "Get out."
He didn't wait to see if the security guard obeyed. Cuddy had propped her head up with her good arm, her eyes closed. The swish of the door and the sound of quick footsteps announced Wilson's exit, and House understood his friend well enough to know he would return shortly with medical supplies. "Lise?"
"House." Her eyes snapped open; she seemed taken aback at finding his so close. "I'm – "
"A horrible liar."
"Fine," she countered weakly, but this time it was a concession. Her eyes squeezed shut again, her voice lowering hoarsely. "It hurts like hell."
I was really tempted to end this a few lines earlier, but I thought if I gave you three cliffhangers in a row – even if this wouldn't have been very much of one – it would only be a matter of time before you'd all gang up and kill me...
Please let me know what you thought – it keeps writer's block from setting in. And thanks again!