Cameron sat, pressed up against the wall of his room, silently watching Chase sleep. Sleep wasn't necessarily the right term, but, it made her feel a little better. Anesthesia induced unconsciousness was closer to the truth. Maybe if she ignored the breathing mask strapped to his face she could trick herself into thinking... oh, who was she kidding?
The guilt was eating her away from the inside out. She hadn't had anything to do with what happened, but... she could've stepped in, could've ran the tests instead. Shattering his heart to bits for the second time in a week probably hadn't helped either. She wanted so desperately to apologize, to take it all back. Would that even be the right thing to do? What if he didn't accept the apology?
She looked up at the ceiling, each ticking second feeling like an eternity. If she wasn't looking up, she'd be watching his heart monitor obsessively, worried that each little change in the numbers would suddenly become a drastic drop or spike. She snuck a look, just in case, running it through her head. Heart rate steady. O2 stats normal. Blood pressure was fine.
"He's not going to die if you look away."
Cameron jumped in her seat, turning to shoot a dirty look at House before looking back. Heart rate up 1 bpm. Maybe he had heard?
"Come on," he said, walking closer. "I'm going to stick a needle into someone. It'll be fun." He wagged the syringe back and forth in the air as Cameron tried to ignore him. Lowering it, he followed her gaze to the unconscious man in the bed. "Well. At least more fun than this." He stuck out a hand, eyebrows raised. She could almost sense a hint of warmth behind his piercing gaze.
She glanced over at Chase one last time, making a silent promise to come back, to make things right, whatever that meant. With a sigh, she grabbed House's hand and pulled herself up.
She followed him down the hall, trying to keep up with the surprisingly brisk pace. "So what's the big idea?"
House lifted the syringe up. "I inject someone with something, see if they get better."
She speed-walked in front of him, cutting him off. "What, so you know what the cure is?"
House looked up, pretending to consider the statement, before walking faster. "Well, we'll find out, won't we?"He turned into a patient's room, syringe in hand.
The patient's... relative? Spouse? looked up in alarm as they entered, nearly dropping her magazine.
"Hi. I'm Doctor House. This is for your..."
The woman closed the magazine slowly, eyeing the two through narrowed eyes. "Sister."
"Right." He looked at Cameron, holding out the syringe. "Do you want to do the honors?"
The clear liquid inside it could have been one of a million things. "I don't even know what it is."
House picked up the patient's tube, injecting the solution. "Oh! Too late! What a shame."
The woman's eyes widened. "What did you just do?" she demanded, jumping up. "Who are you, really? Who's she?"
Neither of them were wearing lab coats, or anything that would indicate they were doctors. The woman must've been absolutely terrified. "I'm Doctor Cameron, I-"
The woman got into her face, eyes glaring straight through her. "I am calling security. You need to leave. Now"
Cameron held out her hands defensively. "Ma'am, please, I assure you-"
House slung an arm over Cameron's shoulders, pulling her back. "We're leaving."
Cameron shrugged the arm off, whirling around to face him. "What? But you-"
"We'll be back in an hour," he called out as they made their way to the door. "You'll be thanking us by then." He chucked the syringe into the air, bouncing it off the wall into the proper disposal.
It only felt like a few minutes after she sat back down before House was tapping on the glass window, holding up his wrist with an obnoxious smirk. "Time's up."
She wasn't any closer to knowing what to say to Chase, but dragged herself out the door nonetheless. Was the patient really better? What if she had gotten worse... or... worse? House had been fairly confident about his cure... but he had also been fairly confident about every incorrect diagnosis. If this didn't work... She met Foreman's eyes through the window as they walked past his room. The alternative wasn't good, that was for sure.
"You should make up your mind before he wakes up."
She blinked, turning to look at him, but he had already strolled into the patient's room, twirling his cane. "So, I believe a 'thank you Doctor House' is in order?"
The woman in the bed was sitting up and conscious, the color back in her face. "I believe so. I can't thank you enough, I-" she fell back suddenly, unresponsive.
Cameron ran forward, reaching for her flashlight but grabbing only the fabric of her shirt. Right. No coat, no flashlight. She lifted up the woman's eyelids regardless, checking her eyes quickly before putting a hand on her abdomen, eyes going wide. "Her liver's failing."
House nodded solemnly, as if he had already been expecting this outcome. "She'll need a transplant, but otherwise, she should be fine."
"And you know this how?"
He smirked, a glint in the icy blue of his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll let you know once the gang's all together."
Some time later, Cameron sat at the diagnostics room table, zoning out at the wall with a bagel in front of her. Foreman rolled an apple from hand to hand. House was ignoring them in the corner, tapping away at his handheld console.
Fletcher burst into the room, gasping for air, files clutched under an arm. "Doctor House! I've got- the- the cure!"
He didn't bother looking up. "You're late."
She leaned on the open door, trying to catch her breath. "What do you mean?"
"Well, for one thing, there aren't any patients left to cure."
Foreman tried to spin the apple on his finger, before dropping it on the table. "We're all better." House continued to play his game, a cacophony of little beeps coming from his direction.
Fletcher walked slowly to the table, dropping the results on the table with a thud. Her glare was ice cold, and she stared silently around the room before beginning to speak. "I have been in the lab all day today. And no one thought to tell me that the patients have already been cured?"
Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but House cut her off.
"Nope." House leaned further into his game before groaning in disappointment. "Second place." He got up, tossing the console aside and picking up a rolled up sheet. "So who's ready for the cool reveal?"
Foreman raised an eyebrow, putting the apple down, and Fletcher reluctantly took a seat.
With flourish, House smacked the paper down on the whiteboard. "Tada."
Cameron frowned at the image, trying to decipher what it was. It was a cross section of a body, and, with horror, she began to realize that the entire photo was crawling with tiny worms, undetectable from a distance. "Worms," she whispered.
"They blend in almost seamlessly," Fletcher murmured, leaning closer. "How?"
"They didn't show up in any of the scans," Foreman said, shaking his head. "They must've seamlessly replaced healthy organ tissue, only visible under a microscope."
"And with the drugs..." Cameron started.
"The worms died," Fletcher added.
"Leading to organ failure." The team looked at one another.
House nodded. "I suppose you aren't all complete morons. Congratulations. So, since we discovered the buggers, what do you wanna call them? I'm thinking 'the remains of Cameron's love life', but I'm open to suggestions."
Cameron rolled her eyes, picking up the bagel. "You guys can decide. If you need me, I'll be with Chase."