Chapter Three

House flinched as the screen door slammed behind Cameron. Why did he have to comment on her weight? When he hired her, she looked much like she did now. The longer she worked for him the more weight she dropped. He teased her about looking like a fourteen year old boy but he'd been worried about her. At one point, he could see the bones of her sternum and he overheard some of the nurses remarking that she had to get her clothes taken in even though she bought the smallest size available. Being away from him clearly did her body good. Her breasts weren't as big as Cuddy's but they didn't have the slight sag that Cuddy's did. Her stomach was flat and she had the slight outline of a rather impressive six pack. Her hips weren't as wide as Cuddy's but Cuddy had a slight belly and...he stopped and shook his head. Comparing the two women was dangerous. He took a bite of his sandwich and felt his stomach heave as he gagged. Feeling the bile rise, he just made it to the door before he puked all over the steps. He sank down on the worn wooden slats of the porch and leaned against the door frame. His stomach heaved again and he stumbled down the steps slipping in the vomit before falling on his knees in the dense grass. He emptied his stomach until there was nothing left.

"Great," he gasped as he fell on his side. "It's started. Why did I think this was a good way to detox?"

He dry heaved several more times and began to sweat. Something crawled on his neck and then onto his face. An enormous roach sat for a moment on his cheek before flying away. House tried to stand but he couldn't so he crawled back to the house. The pain in his leg intensified as he slumped against the concrete steps. Why did he have to piss Cameron off and make her leave? He leaned back against the base of the house and hoped no more prehistoric flying roaches would use him for a launch pad. His eyes slid closed and his brain shut down.

The next thing House knew, he was being lifted and then carried inside. The voices were muffled, as his ears were ringing, and then he felt the soft mattress of his bed as his body landed on it with a soft thud.

"Jesus..he's a dead weight," he heard a male voice grunt.

Cameron closed the bedroom door and they walked to the kitchen. "Thanks for your help, Tim. I didn't know what else to do."

"It's fine, Allison. Will you be okay? Does he have the flu or something?"

She hesitated for a second. "Something."

"I see. Okay, well, call me if you need anything else. You know I'm just down the road."

"I will, thanks."

An hour later, Cameron returned to check on House. He was sweating and running a fever as he held the blankets to his chin. "It's freezing," he murmured.

She placed her hand against his cheek and touched his hand. It was cold and clammy. "You have a fever. Any nausea?"

"Not since I lost my lunch outside. It usually took a couple of days before the nausea and stomach issues started. What day is this?"

Cameron sighed as she went to get a warm washcloth and gently wiped his face. "Two."

"Two down, three to go. If I'm lucky. God...whose idea was this to quit cold turkey?"

"Yours."

"Go big or go home," he said and then groaned. "Trash can," he mumbled. Cameron promptly grabbed it and placed it just in time for House to gag, but it was just dry heaves. Once he stopped, she helped him lie back against the pillow.

"We can still do this the other way," she told him as she sat down beside him. "I still have the meds for it."

"I told you to get rid of them," he croaked. "I need some water."

Once she left, he drifted on the edge of consciousness. The room wavered and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in his bedroom at home. He sighed in relief. The worst was over. Cuddy walked in with a glass of water. She smiled as she handed it to him. He took it and drained it one swallow.

"Get in bed," he told her as he moved over. He put the glass on his bedside table and frowned at the faint sound of glass shattering. Then Cuddy was next to him and he forgot all about it. "How about you toss my salad?"

Cuddy laughed and he rolled onto his stomach. His cock grew hard as she worked him over. He pulled her beneath him and fucked her senseless. As an intense orgasm shuddered through him, he could dimly hear Cameron's voice and feel pulses of pressure against his chest. He rolled off Cuddy and decided it was better not to tell her about hearing his ex-fellow's voice. Then a hard thump on his chest caused him to gasp. Cuddy and his bedroom disappeared. Cameron leaned over him as she did CPR.

"Stop," he whispered. "What happened? Where's Cuddy? I was with Cuddy."

"I came in with the water and you drank it. Then you passed out and dropped the glass. You stopped breathing and I couldn't get a pulse. You scared the shit out of me," she said shakily. "Were you hallucinating?"

He nodded. "I was with Cuddy. I thought everything was back to normal." The tremors returned and he rolled onto his side. He was dimly aware of Cameron pulling the sheet over him. Soon a fevered sleep slipped over him.

Cameron made sure he was sleeping and went to get the small broom and dust pan. She swept up the broken glass and went back into the kitchen to throw it away. Then she went back into the bedroom and sank down on the floor beside the bed. Pulling her knees up, she rested her forehead on them and wrapped her arms around her legs. Tears slid down her face as she cried.

He hallucinated being with Cuddy and for him that meant things were back to normal. He obviously still loved her; maybe he always would. She lifted her head and wiped her face. She would get him through the detox and then decide what to do. If he still loved Cuddy, she would...what? Find another job? Fire him? How could she have been so stupid as to think she could compete with someone like Cuddy? Even in death, she still held sway over House.

Cameron remembered how they used to bicker and argue. At times, they could be downright vicious to each other. Was that House's idea of romantic banter? She wasn't around when they were dating but she heard Cuddy was definitely in control in the relationship. Was that what House wanted? A woman who told him what to do all the time? Cameron knew that was not something she could do or wanted to do. She preferred a relationship where things were equal or as equal as possible. She was not domineering. Her mother had been that way and she hated it.

Slowly, she stood. After a quick check on House, she went out to the back porch. She sat in the swing and watched the storm clouds building. It was time for the usual afternoon thunderstorm. She shook her head. If House liked conflict and being dominated, then she was not the woman for him.