A thousand apologizes everyone! Anyone who writes fanfiction on here can tell you life happens and derails the writing process. Yikes, I know it's been nearly a year. But i've spent the past week re-reading this story and trying to think of where to go next and I think I found a good direction to go in. I will totally accept hate mail due to my lack of updating. I hope you all enjoy the story so far and thank you so much for sticking with me, for those who are still reading it.

Chapter Seventeen

The sound of his cellphone vibrating against the nightstand awoke him in a haze. He was even more confused upon picking it up and the caller ID displayed the name, "Stacy". He quickly glanced over at Cameron, hoping she couldn't somehow see his caller ID, even though he was well aware she was asleep. Quietly and as gently as was possible for a cripple he got out of her bed and walked down the hallway.

He hesitated, "Stacy."

"Hi, Greg," she answered back casually.

"What do you want?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

"I just wanted to call and see how you were? I heard you got shot, again. I'm assuming Cameron's situation worked out?" she asked matter of factly.

"Yeah, sure everything worked out. That is if you consider me getting shot, Cameron getting stabbed and still withering away from a nasty case of ED," he snarked.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I was wondering, maybe you'd want to grab some coffee sometime and talk about, things?"

"What things do we have to talk about?"

"Anything," she said hoping.

"Stacy-" before he could say anything else he heard a stir from the bedroom. "I'll call you back." he said quickly and hung up.

He walked back towards the bedroom to see Cameron finishing up a phone call and placing her cell on the nightstand beside her.

"Hey," he smiled briefly standing in the doorway.

"That was Cuddy. She said if I could come back if I wanted to."

"I thought she was going to wait until you were at a healthy weight?" he mentally kicked himself for reminding her about the elephant in the room.

She looked down as she answered,"yeah, I can't see patients but since I've done all the paperwork I can do from home, she said I can do the rest in my office."

"No," was all he said.

"What?" she turned towards him.

"I know you well enough to know if you go back to work you're gonna 'accidentally' forget to eat. All the time. Or make excuses saying you already did."

"House-"

"You said you wanted to get better."

"You can't really think that me sitting on my ass all day is going to make me better? Why not put myself to good use and get some things done?"

"Your health comes before your work."

"I'm going back to work, House. You have a problem with it than bring it up with Cuddy."

She stood up as quickly as she could without passing out and stared at him for a minute as he stared back. She walked briskly past him and slammed the door to the bathroom, locking it. She sat on the edge of the tub with her head in her hands.

"You're not going to work today!" Christopher shouted as he slapped her. She grabbed her cheek instantly. "You will get your ass on that treadmill and you're gonna run until I tell you to stop!"

"Christopher, I can't. My ribs, they hurt so badly! I need to lie down! Please!" she pleaded as she tried to get on her feet. Another slapped pushed her whole body against the ground.

"You're not leaving this apartment until you run at least five miles. You're disgusting, I don't want people knowing that I screw a pig like you." He stood tall over her. Staring at her as if he was arguing with himself over whether just to kill her on the spot. One good punch in her state would be all it would take to put her out of her misery.

Cameron stood up and looked in the mirror to see her eyes puffy and red. She didn't even realize she was crying. It scared Cameron sometimes, when House would talk to her like that. When he'd give her an order instead of a choice. It reminded her of Christopher. It reminded her of being hurt. After she had composed herself she put on some cover up to even out her as of late pale skin and baggy under eyes. She added some mascara to brighten her eyes and some lip gloss.

"You think make up will make you look better? Ha, don't even bother. No one looks at you. They look past you. You'll never stand out," Christopher growled at her as he watched her apply make up to cover the bruises of his slaps.

She brushed her hair and her teeth and went back into her bedroom. House was gone. She was slightly relieved but knew avoiding her wasn't possible. He'd find her. He always does. She sighed, "it could always be worse".