Sorry. I was in the backwoods of Oregon for 16 days, and just finally got home. And then next week I may/may not be leaving again. Once school starts the updates should be more scheduled.
Jess
Chapter 5: Needs
"Because he needs us." Cameron was still fuming three hours later and, stormed over to Wilson's office. If his door was closed that usually meant he was with a patient or in a meeting. If she could see the teddy bear that they had made at Build-A-Bear when Tina was in town, that meant she could barge in. If it wasn't there, the meeting was usually important.
"You'll never -" She opened the door and froze. Cuddy, was, it seemed, arguing intently with Wilson, her back to the door.
Wilson stood as soon as Cameron entered, and grabbed his briefcase, shoving various odds and ends into it. "Come on. I need some coffee."
"We're taking the rest of the day off." Cameron called out.
Cuddy sat down, defeated as the two strode out of the room. She could just hear there voices, low and angry.
"Did she want you to talk to him too?"
"Can you belie-?"
"What did you do?" it took House a half an hour to find her and storm into Wilson's office where she was still sitting.
"Nothing."
"You did something! The nurses are all talking about how Cameron lost it in the middle of the cafeteria and now she and Wilson are missing."
"They took the rest of the day off."
"Why?"
"I tried to get them to talk to you."
"What would possess you to do that?" The nurses' talk had made him curious, and a little angry. But now he was beyond anger. What would make Cuddy even think of talking to Wilson? Wilson was off limits. A big NO. Even a two year old could understand that.
"You need him."
"I don't need anyone. Especially not Wilson or Cameron."
He stormed out leaving Cuddy alone once again.
"Is it wrong to get drunk when we should be working?"
"Yes." Wilson downed the tequila he was holding after considering Cameron's question.
"Hypocrite."
"That's okay though. We just took the rest of the day off."
"And, hey it's Friday."
"And five o'clock somewhere, right?" Alice's voice was teasing.
"Well, its 4:30, which I think is close enough to five o'clock here." Cameron pointed out.
"Do you ever close?" Wilson asked voice serious.
"Not for you two. Alice's is Always Accessible for Advice. Plus, Allie has a spare key."
"Very nice alliteration. Until the end. You need to work on that." Allison offered her the next shot of tequila and Alice shook her head.
"I have to work. Continue getting smashed please."
"I think you guys have had enough."
"One more song? Please?"
"Fine." Cameron had found, and dragged out the old karaoke machine that Alice kept in the back of the diner. Sundays and Tuesdays used to be karaoke nights, but they no longer were. There were only so many drunken, terrible singers that people could put up with.
The place was closed, and it was well past two in the morning. Alice had been watching them for the past two hours as they entertained themselves with song and dance.
"Oh! American Pie!"
Alice buried her head in her hands. The nine-minute song was not one to be performed by two very drunk people who had been doing renditions of everything from Grease Lightening to Stairway to Heaven. Who ever had made it into a karaoke song should've been found and killed.
"So bye-bye, miss American pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin' this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die."
Nails on a chalkboard would have sounded better at that point. They were going to need coffee. And she was going to need a stiff drink after she got the two of them home.
"Ouch!" Cameron cracked up as she tripped over a – body part? and ended up on the floor next to the leg that was sticking out from the wall.
"Allie?"
"I'm okay." There was more hysterical laughter. "It's – it's just -"
Alice chuckled. She couldn't help it. "This is almost like the first time when you and Ian got drunk together."
"And you had to come get us. One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor."
"Tequila makes her clothes fall off." House grimaced as he popped a Vicodin and stood up.
"No it doesn't Mister. My clothes are staying right – here." As if to prove her point Cameron tugged on her shoe.
A look of confusion crossed her face as she looked from her shoe to her now bare foot to House.
"What are you doing here?"
"That's a good question. What are you doing here Dr. House?"
"I came to talk to Cameron, but she's obviously a little too wasted to think coherently."
Alice chanced a glance at Cameron who was now searching her purse for her keys.
"I have them hon."
"Ohh. I was afraid I gave them to James."
"No." Alice produced the keys from her pocket and opened the door.
"Jimmy-Boy is this drunk too, I suppose?"
"A little less, but yes he is pretty wasted." She turned her attention to Cameron. "Come on babe, in the apartment. You don't want to sleep outside."
"Okay." Cameron stood up on rubbery legs, and House rolled his eyes, grabbing her by the arm as she almost fell.
"She get this drunk often?"
"I haven't seen Allie this drunk in almost ten years. Haven't seen her kind of drunk since Ian's wedding five years ago. James and Allison drank enough today because they wanted to escape. They don't take what your Dr. Cuddy did lightly."
"She's not mine." House replied, watching as Alice guided Cameron into the apartment. "We broke up."
"So now she wants you to have friends? How nice."
"Thanks, I thought so too." House turned to leave.
"Dr. House, Allison isn't going to remember this in the morning. Stay for a minute, I'd like to talk to you."
House shrugged and limped into Cameron's apartment, sitting on the couch and propping his feet up. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, and maybe he could get some free coffee from the deal.
Alice made her way around the place, sending Cameron to change and disappearing into the kitchen to get water and then the bathroom for Tylenol.
Cameron reappeared from her bedroom, and House inhaled sharply. Either she had forgotten that he was there, didn't care, or was wearing what she usually wore to bed. A Bears jersey – and nothing else. It went down to about mid-thigh, and then there was just leg. Alice bustled out of the bathroom and handed Allison the water and pills.
"Take these and then get some sleep. If you come back out here put some pants on so you don't give Dr. House a heart attack. He can't help himself and you'd be too wasted to do anything remotely helpful. I have a feeling I'll be seeing you and Jimmy tomorrow for some coffee?"
"Mh-mmm."
"And I'll leave some of my hangover remedy."
"Icky." Allison wrinkled her nose. Then she shrugged, kissed Alice on the cheek and stumbled back into her bedroom, glass of water in hand.
It was a gross combination of food – tomato juice, vinegar, lemon, onions, sugar, celery, Tabasco sauce and salt and pepper.
House had limped from couch to a bar stool in the kitchen and was watching Alice as she mixed various things and finally put the whole mess in a container which she stored in the fridge.
"That's going to cure her hangover?"
"Strain it the next morning, eat it, and she'll be good to go." House grimaced. "Trust me, after all these years Allison knows better then to argue with my hang over remedies. They work. No matter how gross they taste."
"How long have you known her?"
Alice frowned. "I didn't bring you in here to talk about Allison and me."
He shrugged. "Well, will you talk about other people?"
"What?" Alice whirled to face him and House shrugged, holding up an old picture. Cameron was holding some little boy, the two sitting down and smiling, poised in nice clothes, eyes bright. It looked to be around Christmas time judging by the background. And Cameron couldn't have been more then seven or eight.
"They don't look alike, and the on back of the photo is Jacob and Me, family 6-11, Waller. The picture was face down, under the coffee table. Someone threw it. I can only guess that it was Cameron. And while the names and numbers mean nothing to me, they mean something to you."
"It's none of your business what any of that means Dr. House." Her eyes were dark and she had taken the picture from his grasp.
"No, no. it may not be mine, but it's yours." House was staring intently. "You have the same eyes as the kid in the picture. Is he yours? And if he is then why did you tell me that you've only known Cameron for twenty years? She doesn't look to be ten, so that means that you didn't have contact with the little boy."
"Leave Jacob out of this." Alice's voice was icy. "He was just a little boy."
Was. Was a little boy. Meaning that he was gone. Dead most likely. If he had been a normal person, that would have been his cue to stop. Apologize maybe.
"What'd he die of?" If she had not yet known her son, he couldn't have been much older then he was in the picture when he died. That meant that it was probably nothing of his own accord. An accident, probably.
Alice placed the picture on the coffee table, and turned to look at him.
"I don't think that you deserve Allison. And you don't deserve James. They have been through hell. And neither you nor your Dr. Cuddy needs to increase the pain."
"Pain? You want to talk about pain?" Houses' voice was sharp. "Because I have been through more pain then the two of them could possibly experience."
Alice's back was stiff.
"That's where you're wrong Dr. House. Your leg – sure, that hurts, maybe you're even in agony. Although you probably take enough drugs for a horse to not feel the pain. And yes, you have it as a daily reminder. But James wakes up every day knowing that the woman he loves is dead. And Al wakes up every day without her husband, without Jacob, and with memories that would have you screaming."
Alice's hands curled, a scowl on her face.
"And if you must know Dr. House, my nephew was shot when he was six years old in one of his foster homes while Allison tried to protect him."
House stood alone in Cameron's kitchen, frowning, with more questions then ever.
It took nearly two hours for House to work up the courage to break in, and once the door was open it took almost another hour to convince himself to go in and sit on the couch.
He had swiped the Tupperware container from Cameron's apartment. Her hangover would be hell tomorrow, but Wilson might be into bargaining cures for information.
By the time it was ten House was sitting on the couch with his leg propped up, watching some Monster Truck show he had found.
"Allis-?"
When Wilson finally stumbled from his room at almost eleven his eyes clouded in confusion.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm not Allison. I brought hang-over cure."
Wilson stalked to the fridge and pulled out a Tupperware almost identical to the one that was next to Houses' leg.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. If Allison finds out that you took her hangover remedy you are so dead." Wilson strained the concoction like Alice had mentioned and then ate it, grimacing.
House watched Wilson for a long moment. He didn't want to stare, but his friend looked different.
It wasn't as if he had died his hair or gotten a tattoo or become an alcoholic.
There was a darkness in Wilson's eyes that hadn't been there before. His shoulders were more hunched and a frown rested on his face while he watched House watching him.
"Why are you here anyway?"
"I was told that I needed more friends."
"And why would you need more friends when you have Cuddy?"
Wilson winced as the question escaped his lips. He shouldn't be sitting there asking House questions like it was normal. He should be kicking him out of the apartment.
"She found someone else. Some new guy to make babies with."
Wilson sighed and stood up before walking out of the kitchen. "Well then, I guess you should fight for her."
Allison was in his mind's eye, her voice quavering slightly when Wilson brought up the date.
"He told me that I don't love. That I only need people because they're damaged. That I needed to fix people in my life because everything had to be perfect."
Her voice had been forlorn.
"When I had nightmares mom used to wake me up. And I would sob and sob and tell her how much I hated Ron. He had turned me into a mess of tears and bruises and nightmares. I didn't trust anyone because of him. He broke me. Broke my spirit. Damaged my heart. And she used to tell me that I wasn't damaged. I wasn't broken. He was the one who was broken, and didn't I see how wonderful I was? Nothing in my life was ever perfect James. You don't love someone because they're perfect. You love them in spite of the fact that they're not. So I don't know what he was expecting, but I wasn't planning on fixing anyone."
"Who says I want her?"
"You were attempting to help her get pregnant."
"She's not pregnant. And she found some other guy to work her baby making powers on. I told you that already."
"Right. Well, you've told me before you have other friends. Go hang out with Karl from bookkeeping."
"His name is Kevin."
"House, get out."
Maybe if Wilson repeated it to himself enough times it would ring true. As much as he couldn't stand the man sitting on his couch, feet propped up casually, he missed him.
"Why?"
"What?"
"Didn't you miss me Jimmy? Why should I leave?"
"I didn't miss you House. I want you to leave."
Wilson emerged from his room dressed in casual weekend clothes. The phone began ringing and Wilson picked it up.
"I have your hangover cure, Allie."
He laughed at whatever Allie said.
"Don't worry about it. Do you want me to come and get you or meet you at Alice's?"
"Okay. I'll bring the cure. Be outside your place in fifteen."
Wilson turned back to House, eyes cold. "When I needed a friend House, you were off in wherever-the-hell-you-felt-like-being, taking a vacation. Now that you're ready to let go of whatever you were struggling with when my girlfriend died that's too bad. I don't need you nor do I want you here."
After grabbing the hang over cure from House, Wilson walked out of his apartment an angry scowl firmly in place.
House stood slowly. If Cameron hadn't been there when House was afraid to face Wilson they would be okay now. Sitting there and watching tv, cracking jokes, drinking beer. But no the bleeding heart, Miss-Fix-It Cameron had to go in and ruin everything.
House limped out of Wilson's apartment angrily. This was all her fault.
American Pie - Don McLean
You don't love someone because they're perfect. You love them in spite of the fact they're not. – Jodi Picoult (cookies for whoever can name that book)
Quote from Love Hurts
www. rupissed. com /hangovercures. html