Overthinking
"Right. We have to control the blood pressure first otherwise he'll be dead before we figure out what's wrong with him. Treat him for sepsis and blast him with broad spectrum antibiotics. I also want a cortical stimulation test and an echocardiogram. Go".
"Don't you think we should also-", Foreman began.
"-no, I don't. Go". House remained at the whiteboard as he watched his employees troop from the room. After a few moments he sat at the conference table, spinning the board marker between his fingers.
Wilson found him like this. "Hey, did you get my message on Friday?".
House looked up distractedly. "Yeah".
"And?", he prompted, settling into a chair.
"And what?".
Wilson rolled his eyes. "And what are you going to do about it?".
House rose and went to the window. "I…don't know".
"Does Cameron know?".
"No, I haven't told her yet".
"Are you going to?".
"Probably. I should, right?".
"Probably", Wilson echoed.
House rubbed his face and sighed. If Chase really did like Cameron, things would get complicated, chiefly because he didn't know how his immunologist felt about his intensivist. The truth was he knew very little about his employees. He knew that they were all friends; he knew that Cameron and Chase had slept together last year; he knew that they had had some sort of argument shortly after his return to work. That was it. Ironic, really. He had spent the last two and a half years keeping his subordinates at arm's length, but now all he wanted was to know what they thought of each other.
Cameron had shown him affection these last few weeks, yes, but that was only after her argument with Chase. What if they'd broken up and he was simply the rebound? How would she react if she knew Chase wanted her after all? What if none of this was real?
What have you got yourself into, Gregory? You don't deserve her.
"House?", Wilson asked from the table.
"What?". He turned back to face his friend.
You were her only option. Her last resort.
"Cameron likes you, OK? Anyone can see it". House said nothing, so Wilson tried again: "if you want, I can go and ask-".
"-you'll do nothing!".
Wilson held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. Though he was used to the occasional outburst, he still tried to avoid provoking them when possible.
The two doctors were silent for a time.
"I will deal with this in my own way. I don't want you anywhere near it", growled House eventually.
"Fair enough. You've got a few days to figure it out. I convinced Chase to hold off for a week".
"Oh, great. Thanks, buddy". The tone was dark, words dripping with sarcasm.
Wilson decided to leave the other to his brooding. He rose from the table and made his way to the door. "She likes you, House. She chose you".
House said nothing as his friend left the office.
Wilson was right—she did choose him, but only after Chase was out of reach. The fact was that all of the affection she had shown, even the conversation they had shared during her 'assessment', had only occurred after the mysterious argument between Chase and Cameron in the first week back. House's mind raced. Conceivably, the two could have been together at least since the shooting, maybe even earlier—perhaps after they had slept together. They could have broken up after the argument, and that was when Cameron, seeking an easy distraction, had seduced him.
If I'd known that that was all it took, I'd have seduced you sooner. Her words from last week came back to him.
But if Chase was regretting the split and wanted to get back with her, Cameron would surely agree. House couldn't help but compare himself with his younger employee. The thought experiment was a depressing one. Chase was a very handsome man, there was no denying that. And Cameron was a beautiful woman. Such people belonged together.
Fuck it. For the first time in at least two months, House had an overwhelming urge for a Vicodin. Something to take the edge off, something to dull the rational part of his brain that was working overtime comparing his creased, crippled, greying self to his younger, blonder, cleaner intensivist.
House took a few deep breaths. Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Easy, boy. He needed to quieten his mind. He needed to feel nothing for a couple of hours. Cameron had made him weak, he thought with disgust. There was a patient to deal with and all he could think of was her leaving him for Chase. You are fucking pathetic, Greg. For some inexplicable reason, he could hear his father's disappointment.
House dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, but still his mind raced. With a grunt, he jogged through to the office and retrieved his bike gear from under the desk.
Wilson was sitting in his office trying to focus on the pile of paperwork before him. But concentration wouldn't come. He had left House in a black mood earlier and was beginning to regret it, especially since he had missed their lunch rendezvous. He suspected that House's overly rational mind would quickly draw deductions based on the physical evidence: Chase was a nicer man, more handsome, younger; ergo he was automatically more attractive to Cameron who, also, was nicer, prettier, younger. The problem with this line of thinking was that it didn't account for the irrational, the emotional. This had always been House's weakness. Wilson was convinced that Cameron truly liked her boss. He didn't know Chase all that well, but the thought of him and her in a relationship…it just sounded weird.
Things would be much easier if he could only tell Cameron of the situation. She would put Chase in his place, reassure House, and everything could go back to normal. Wilson chuckled mirthlessly. House and Cameron, together, was the new normal. All the same, Wilson couldn't inform the woman himself. He had been sworn to secrecy, and he wasn't about to betray his best friend's confidence. She needed to hear it from House. Only then could they move forwards.
There was a knock on the door. "Come in".
Foreman entered. "Hey, have you seen House?".
"Err, I saw him this morning but not since. I thought he was working the case with you…".
"He sent us to do tests, which we did".
"And?".
"And it turns out the guy was doing ecstasy cut with gout medicine. Colchicine poisoning. Open and shut case. Kinda weird that House missed it, to be honest".
"Well, nobody's perfect". Wilson tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking. Despite his words to Foreman, he knew House didn't just miss conditions. There must be another explanation as to why he had sent his employees on a straightforward yet time consuming case.
House had said that he wanted to deal with this in his own way.
What did that mean?
Drink and drugs.
Wilson bolted upright so quickly that Foreman flinched. "Are you OK?".
He didn't answer immediately, scrambling into his jacket and opening the door. "Yeah. Do me a favour and hold fast in Diagnostics for an hour?".
"Uhh, sure. I've some filing to catch up on anyway".
"Great. See you later".
"Where are you going?".
"Nowhere!", Wilson shouted from the corridor.
Foreman stood in the empty office unsure what had just happened.
Cameron was working on her article in the cafeteria. Though the fellows were still technically on call, their patient was making rapid strides, and she figured the best use of her time would be to try and break the back of her paper over the next several days. It was really beginning to take shape, thanks in no small part to House's advice. They had sat together for two hours last week and he had taken her through the weak points and the bits where more evidence was needed. He had even strengthened a few areas which were already strong and guided her away from a couple of dead ends. The result, she hoped, would be her best article yet: tightly argued, ingenious, original. She took a sip of coffee and scrolled through the latest section.
"Hey, mind if I join you?". Chase stood over the table holding his own drink.
"Hi. Feel free, but I'm probably not the best company right now", Cameron replied without looking up from the laptop screen.
Chase shrugged and sank into the seat opposite, though he was secretly wondering if Cameron's short answer meant that there was trouble in paradise already. He decided to test the waters. "Have you seen House lately?".
She tapped away at the keys. "Not since this morning, why?".
"No reason. But don't you think it's weird he sends us off to carry out tests all day then disappears?".
It was Cameron's turn to shrug. "Not really. Typical House behaviour as far as I'm concerned. He's probably holed up in an examination room somewhere watching TV".
Chase wrapped his hands round the coffee mug. "Maybe, but I thought he was off in the differential as well".
Cameron's eyes scanned the screen, though in truth she'd also thought him distracted in the office. Over the last few weeks she and House had kept their relationship (her heart fluttered at that) secret, but still had found subtle ways to show affection in front of the others: a brushing of fingers here, a glance there, a lingering hand on the back as they left the office on the way to the lab or a patient's room. But this morning, she had received barely an acknowledgment, scarcely even a grunted 'thanks' for the coffee she'd prepared. Although Cameron was used to House's unpredictability, she couldn't deny a feeling of deflation, especially after their second date had gone so well.
"Maybe he was off a bit", she conceded, careful to keep her voice level.
"Perhaps he just had a rough weekend", offered Chase.
Cameron nodded, though said nothing.
"Speaking of, how was yours? Get up to anything?", he continued.
"Fine. It was pretty standard, really. Went for a run, did my groceries, called my parents". Went on a date with House. "You?".
"Nothing much. Just met up with Mathilde".
"Ah, very good", Cameron muttered, eyes on the notepad beside the laptop.
"Mmm".
She didn't especially want to get into the topic of her colleague's romantic life, but her innate kindness and his monosyllabism compelled her to ask: "you OK?".
"I'm fine". Chase experienced an unwelcome flashback to his conversation with Wilson on Friday night. "I'm just starting to think that Mathilde and I have nearly run our course".
"How come? She seems nice to me, and even I can tell she's hot". Cameron was desperately trying to head Chase off at the pass. She really didn't fancy another confrontation at the moment.
"Oh, she's great. I just don't think she's the one, though, y'know?". He drained his mug and placed his elbows on the table.
"I didn't think you believed in the one".
"I don't. Or, I didn't. but I'm starting to come around to the idea".
Cameron wasn't sure how to reply to that, so she pretended to sigh at her laptop. Before Chase could elaborate further, however, her phone started to ring on the table. Attempting to conceal her sheer relief at this excuse to cut short their conversation, she immediately accepted the call. "Hello?".
"Hi, Cameron, it's Wilson. Listen, have you got a moment to talk?".
"Sure, one second". Cameron rose from the chair and quickly made her apologies to a slightly irritated Australian. She walked over to the relative sanctuary of the tray rack and continued on the phone. "OK, what's up?".
"Look, I'm not meant to say anything, but it's about House and I'm a bit worried". There was a pause on the other end of the line. "He's disappeared".
