A/N: Once again, thank you all for the lovely reviews; you're what's keeping this fic going. I appreciate every one of you. Can I just encourage you all to be as generous to other femslash writers out there, I see great fics with only one or two reviews, and the only way to keep the good stuff coming is to review, so please be as good to others as you have been to me :)

Chapter 8

"New case." House said as he slammed a file down on the glass desk.

His fellows looked up from their coffee to stare at him.

He pulled a face and stood by the board. He began to write in a nearly illegible scribble, while beginning to talk. "Seventeen year old female, formerly diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, in remission, presents with lower extremity edema and erythematous nodules. No pulmonary symptoms. Three weeks ago she developed neck pain and fatigue, which resolved spontaneously.

"So," he continued, "Neck pain, plus erythema, plus fatigue, equals?"

Foreman looked irritated, "Hodgkin's Lymphoma. She's obviously come out of remission."

House swung around on his cane to look at Foreman, "Do you know, there's a reason I prefer for you to speak last? And it has more to do with you spoiling the fun than about you learning your place in the world."

Foreman rolled his eyes at Taub, who looked vaguely insulted on his behalf.

"What else?" House asked.

"Sarcoidosis." Thirteen stated calmly.

House evaluated her answer. "Anyone else?"

"Lupus," Taub said.

"Lupus?" House repeated with disdain, "Really?"

"Explains the neck pain, fatigue," Kutner interrupted, "even the lesions - erythema multiforme."

"Oookay," House sighed, "Kutner and Taub test to rule out Lupus, Thirteen take her to have a CT, Foreman… go check her house."

"What for?" Foreman asked, still evidently annoyed.

"I'm giving you a gift." House replied, whispering loudly, "There are things about the female world you could do with knowing." He winked at him, and grinned widely, "Or you could just ask Thirteen?"

"Right," Thirteen rose quickly, "I'll go get the patient." She threw House a look of pure contempt before exiting the room.

Foreman looked confused. Taub and Kutner looked at one another.

"What've you done to Thirteen?" Taub asked suspiciously.

"It's what she's done that's the main interest." House smiled.

"What's that?" Kutner asked, his voice full of curiosity.

"Why don't you go and ask her before your patient goes to CT without you having done the blood tests."

Kutner looked startled, "Right." he said, remembering himself.

Thirteen wheeled the patient along the corridor.

"Are you feeling okay?" Thirteen asked, looking down at the girl below her.

"Yeah, I'm fine." the girl responded, smiling up at her. Thirteen knew that smile. It was one she knew she wore herself, knew when she saw it mirrored in the reaction of another. A pained grimace more than a smile; a practised but still detectable lie to cover a truth, impossible to perfect because it was too close to the rawness inside.

The girl held her hands in her lap and looked at them. "This isn't over is it?" she asked, "The Hodgkin's has come back, hasn't it?"

"We don't know yet," Thirteen replied, "we've just got to run some tests. There are other possibilities. Just take it one step at a time, Lucy."

"Yeah," Lucy said, "it feels like my life is a series of steps sometimes. One month of remission, two months, one year. I suppose with each step it becomes clearer."

Thirteen tried to grasp her meaning, "What becomes clearer?"

Lucy sighed. "That this isn't a fight you can win. If you're not meant to live, you won't. Nothing about that changes however many courses of Chemo you go through."

Thirteen was silent, her thoughts in turmoil. She felt a need to know something.

She spoke softly, hesitantly, "Are you scared?"

The girl in the wheelchair was quiet as she thought. "No. I was," she paused, "but I'm not sure I am meant to be here… maybe I'm meant for a different place."

"Maybe you'll find out that this is the place you're meant to be." Thirteen said, glad that the girl, not that much younger than herself, was unable to see her face.

House watched her from the other end of the corridor, cane in hand, her words sinking into him as her voice faded away.

He pulled back the curtain wildly.

"House," Cameron yelled, outraged, "I am in the middle of an examination!"

"I can see that," he replied, grinning at the surprised woman hugging herself to hide her naked torso, "but knowing you nowadays, it's difficult to tell if this is examination time or just plain old Sapphic fun."

He winked at the middle aged woman as she recovered from her initial shock. She smiled back shyly, seemingly quite charmed.

"I need to talk to you, Cameron." he said, turning to look at her.

"It's going to have to wait." she replied, still irritated.

"While I would love to wait, my leg cannot." House stated, looking at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Cameron whispered, turning back to her patient, "please excuse me for a moment."

She closed the curtain swiftly, looking back at House angrily.

"What?" she demanded.

"Hey," he replied, "is that the way to speak to a man who's about to save your marriage?"

"I'm not married." Cameron replied flatly, "Is this a joke?"

"Yeah but you will be married soon, I saw it on The L Word. You have to multiply normal dating standards by four for you lesbians."

"What are you talking about?" Cameron asked, her hands on her hips.

"Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn me of what?" Cameron started to shout.

"Thirteen. Has problems."

"I know she has problems." Cameron stated, her eyebrows starting to furrow in concern.

"Really?" House said, beginning to walk away.

"What are you talking about House?" Cameron yelled after him.

Cameron stared over at Thirteen as they ate at Thirteen's dinner table. There was something there. There was a difference in her, as much as she was clearly trying to hide it. Thirteen sipped her wine absent-mindedly, her concentration on something else.

"How was your day?" Cameron asked, wearing an expression of concern.

"Fine." Thirteen replied, looking at Cameron. "New patient."

"Yeah?" Cameron asked. Something was clearly not right. She felt the panic rise up in her, the nauseating panic of worry. There was something there, behind Thirteen's eyes, an other-worldly film of detachment, distance. It loomed between them as big as the terror that was growing inside of Cameron's mind.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asked gently, her heart beating rapidly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Thirteen replied quickly, too quickly. "I'll take the dishes out."

Thirteen rose from the table, taking Cameron's plate in one hand and hers in the other. As she swept by her, Cameron noticed that her food had hardly been touched.

Thirteen ran the taps in the sink, the water scalding her hands as she placed the plates beside the cutlery.

"Fuck!" she yelled as she dropped a plate on the floor; a flood of hot, angry tears surprising her as she slammed her hand against the cabinet.

She felt the world spin as she started to cry; everything became blurry as she fought to catch a breath.

"Hey," Cameron said, approaching her quickly as she entered the room. "Remy, what's going on?"

Cameron reached out to touch her arm, but Thirteen shook her away, staring wildly at the wall, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly as her chest shook with each enraged sob.

"What's wrong?" Cameron asked again, panic rising in her again.

"What do you mean what's wrong?" Thirteen shouted, tears cascading down her face, "I'm dying, that's what's wrong." She brought her hands up, making fists, before wiping away her tears furiously.

"I hate that I'm so angry at it all." she spoke, her voice raw and rough, "I'm so busy being angry at the world that I'm forgetting to be part of it." She paused. "We had this patient come in today, in her second remission from Hodgkin's, seventeen, and she's braver than I am. She's not afraid to die. But I'm so scared I. . . don't even want to think about it. And all I can do is think about it. I want to be able to look at you and not think about how little time I have with you, and to not think about how much pain you're going to be in a few years. Ten years is gone in the blink of an eye and I'm wasting it. And I'm so damn scared."

Her body continued to shake as she looked at Cameron. Her tears of anger gave way to tears of exhaustion, as Cameron once again reached out to her, and as she let herself be held close.

"It's right to be scared," Cameron spoke softly to her, "because you have a life worth keeping. It means that you value living, and that is not a waste. I'm scared too, so scared. I'm even more scared you'll lose yourself in the fear. You will be able to look at me and not think about it, just give it time. You need to heal. All this is new and yeah, it is impossible to ever get used to, but that's what that girl has done, she's got used to it. Maybe she's lost the will to fight. Don't you lose it."

Thirteen's hands held her tightly, her fingers grasping her back. "But what if I'm not meant to be here?"

"You are." Cameron replied, "Trust me, you are."

Thirteen looked at her, her eyes flooding with warmth. She kissed Cameron fiercely, passionately. Cameron felt the tears on Thirteen's face fall against her own skin.

"Don't. . ." Cameron whispered.

Thirteen looked at her questioningly.

"You don't have to be angry all the time."

Thirteen nodded, her eyes still full of tears.

Cameron took her hand and led her into the bathroom. She sat her down onto the edge of the bathtub as she turned on the tap. Cameron removed her shoes, and her socks and top. She pulled her up gently to unzip her pants, and take off her underwear. She guided her tenderly into the bath, and sat her back as the water rose around her.

Cameron took off her own clothes, and sat back behind Thirteen in the bath. She ran her hand slowly over her neck and back and stroked her arms in silence.

"Thank you," Thirteen said quietly, "and I'm sorry."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." Cameron replied, "And there's no need to be sorry. You did what anyone else on the planet would do."

Thirteen grasped her hand and held it. She thought about how much she needed Cameron, and how odd it was to need someone after years of emotional exile. As the time passed, all her thoughts diffused into the effervescent steam around her. All her thoughts stopped as she felt Cameron's heart beating against her own.

I'm sorry it wasn't as fluff-tastic as the previous one, but that's the ying and yang of life. I promise some more smut for the next chapter if it is so desired?