I'm fine

A.N. As ever, many thanks to recent reviewers. I'm glad everyone hasn't run for the hills quite yet!


Cuddy entered Diagnostics the following morning to the sight of Foreman and Chase drinking coffee and completing crosswords. Upon observing the scene she glanced pointedly at her watch. "Where are your colleagues?".

"Not sure. But they'll be in", replied the neurologist. "We don't have a case at the minute, so House'll take his sweet time".

"And Cameron?".

"Usually here by now. Dunno what's keeping her".

"Probably with House", mused Chase, chewing the end of his pencil.

"Hmm, OK. Well, you may as well be the first to hear since you forwarded me the email: I've organised for that magazine to send someone out to interview you guys. We're still firming up the dates, but I'll let you know when I know".

Foreman, who had been looking decidedly bored, immediately perked up. Publicity was always valuable. "Oh, great. Ballpark timings at all?".

"End of Jan, beginning Feb, probably. The woman said they've already finalised issues for the next couple of months, and it's a busy time of year". Cuddy glanced around the shared office, which was unusually festive. Cameron's doing, most likely.

"Dr. Cuddy, may I ask what the dress code is for the Christmas party?". The Australian's grey eyes were almost mischievous.

"Wear what you like, Chase. You'll be beating them off with a stick regardless. Anyway", said Cuddy, "I'm off. If you could actually do some work, I'd be grateful. Otherwise I'll have you fill in for the clinic rotation!". Ordinarily she would be more forceful, but it was Christmas so she let it slide.

"You actually going to that?", asked Foreman once they were alone.

"Of course. Christmas time plus yours truly equals getting laid".

"I dunno", laughed the other. "I think it's weird sleeping with colleagues".

"These hypothetical woman aren't my colleagues, dude. The hospital is a big place. Besides, it works for House and Cameron".

"Well, sure, but they're weird".

"Cameron isn't weird".

"No?". Foreman shook his head exasperatedly. "I swear you don't know her at all".

"Whatever. You want another coffee?". Chase moved to the machine.

"Nah, trying to cut back".

"Suit yourself". The pair chatted together until the next arrival, which, to the surprise of both, happened to be House. The nephrologist grunted and went straight to the pot, pouring himself a brimful, not even bothering to wince at the flavour as he took rapid sips. "Well?", prodded Chase. "No comments about how garbage my brew tastes?".

"No comments, but you are garbage".

Foreman looked closely at his boss. House was scruffy at the best of times, but this morning he seemed even more unkempt than usual: hair messy, stubble thick, shirt creased. But the alarming thing was the eyes, watery and wild. "You, er, have a rough night?", he asked.

"No, I'm fine".

"You don't look fine".

"Well, when I want your opinion on my appearance, I'll ask for it. How's that?".

Foreman held his hands up but still looked at the other curiously.

"We got a case?", asked Chase.

"It'd seem not. Go and find one".

"How exactly-".

"-I'm not your goddam minder", House snapped. "Go down to the ER and find me a case. It doesn't need to be special. Just get something, anything. Now. Move".

Foreman and Chase glanced at each other before leaving without another word. "That was weird", said the latter as they journeyed down the corridor to the elevator.

"Mmm. Plus, when does he ever actually look for a case? Normal course of action is trying like anything to avoid them".

"We just gonna traipse around the ER with a sign, then?".

"I guess so. Could always ask Cuddy if she has a case handy".

Chase scratched the side of his face as they entered the elevator. "What's the odds on House kicking us out of the office so he and Cameron can fool around while we're gone. I bet she was hiding just round the corner".

"Nah", replied Foreman softly. He said nothing to Chase, but he got a sudden feeling that the dynamic in the office was about to change. Something had happened.


When Cameron woke that morning, she did so with the alarm blaring in her ears. Fumbling around on the nightstand she managed to silence it and, for the briefest moment, the events of the previous evening were forgotten as she lay back in the sheets. Before long, however, everything came rushing back: mistakes in Diagnostics, the conflict in House's brain itself a consequence of their relationship. A relationship which was now over. The thought shuddered through her mind and threatened to bring on tears. Instead, with a supreme effort of willpower, she consigned them to the aching pit sitting in her stomach.

Cameron had been through breakups before. But immediately she sensed that this feeling would weigh heavier and hit harder than anything she had so far experienced. Even the death of her first husband, probably because it was a long time coming and because she had a solid support network around her, would not rival this emotion, which was a sudden, unexpected sundering. There was no one to help her but herself. Once more, tears bubbled up and she threw back the sheets and cast her legs over the side of the bed.

Breathe.

You can do this.

Get to the shower.

The warm water helped, but still the thoughts turned. Separation in this manner was brutal because there had been no time to prepare herself. In normal breakups, their ending could generally be predicted: people left other people for a reason. Hell, she herself had broken up with many boyfriends and for any number of reasons. But this situation was completely different. For one thing, it was not, had not, been a normal relationship; for another, it had ended not really at her instigation. Sure, she had agreed, but only under duress. The simple fact was that she felt as strongly for House today as she did yesterday. It didn't matter now, of course.

Cameron turned the shower off, got dressed and went into the kitchen. Maybe she could force down some breakfast before leaving for work.


Foreman and Chase were trekking through the ER in a so far futile effort to track down a potential patient for their grumpy boss.

"Got anything?", asked Chase.

"Nope. A lot of broken bones, though".

"This is ridiculous. We can't just summon up cases from thin air". The Australian stood with folded arms, glancing round the room in annoyance.

"What do you suggest? House was pretty clear".

The other scoffed at this and Foreman threw him a questioning look. Chase shrugged: "you talk a lot about how you're your own man and how you like to think yourself above the fray, but here you are regardless, doing his bidding, eh".

"He's our boss. And he's pissed. I figure it's a case of picking your battles, to be honest". Both men had taken up position by the nurses' station which gave them a decent view across the whole area. The ER was fairly busy, even though it was not yet ten.

"Uhuh". Chase remained unconvinced.

"Maybe we just head back up and say we couldn't find anything appropriate".

"Yeah. Or maybe…", muttered Chase, "…we ask Cuddy if she has something for us. Perhaps she knows what's stuck in House's craw as well".

"I dunno, man. Poking around House's business is asking for trouble".

"When did you become such a wuss?".

"When did you become so interested in the bossman's emotions?", he retorted coolly.

"Since Cameron, who literally has never been late, didn't show up at work, and since House is extra pissed. Come". Chase marched off to Cuddy's office leaving the other no choice but to follow.


Cameron chewed slowly through a small bowl of cornflakes while staring blankly at the news feed on her phone. Though intended as a distraction, none of it was registering. Instead she sighed and sat back in the chair, using the spoon to swirl the soggy flakes around in the milk. Usually the quietness in this apartment helped her relax, but now it just felt oppressive, almost forcing her to confront troublesome thoughts. Agreeing to a breakup had been the right decision, or at least the right decision for House. The work really was too important for there to be a lack of focus, and she herself had admitted this after their go-karting date. But none of that helped disperse the feeling of extreme despondency that had settled over her.

Breakups always sucked.

But breaking up with House didn't just suck. It made her feel physically ill.

House was unique, and because of this she had always known there would be a chance things didn't work out, had always accepted that she might need to step back for him to function properly. It was a fact she had long since come to peace with even if, now that what she feared had indeed occurred, she felt naked terror. Questions which had been lingering on the edge of her consciousness since last night suddenly made themselves heard:

What if he never rediscovered his edge?

What if they could never again be together?

How long could she wait?

How on earth were they meant to work under the same roof?

There's no one else.

Cameron groaned and covered her face with her hands. She felt light-headed and her heartbeat quickened. With little other warning, the tell-tale signs of a panic attack manifested: sweat pricked her skin, pain lanced through her chest, and she felt pins and needles in her arms and hands. There was nothing else to do but ride it out, noticing grimly that she had not suffered an attack since the shooting. Indeed, the shooting had caused her first ever attack.

For a few minutes she sat in the chair, taking deep breaths and sips of water. But the light breakfast and coffee she had forced down turned dangerously in her stomach. The immunologist tried desperately to regain control, and she wiped the back of a hand roughly across her forehead, a few strands of hair sticking stubbornly to skin.

Another sip of water.

Tentatively Cameron rose from the chair, intending to take her cup and bowl to the sink. But as soon as she stood her stomach twisted and lurched. Instead of to the sink, she ran straight to the bathroom and the toilet bowl.


With Cuddy's help, Foreman and Chase had found a suitable case, which they were now discussing. "OK, so what…", House circled the four symptoms listed on the whiteboard, "…do we think connects this lot?".

"Well, normal CT means that his lung problem has nothing to do with his lungs", suggested Foreman.

"Could be steroids. Dude looks pretty fit. My guess is he's cheating: anabolic steroids hack away at his immune system, causing a pulmonary infection", said Chase.

The suggestion of steroids and cheating caused House to think back to a case last year when they had treated an MLB star. It was also the day he'd asked Cameron to monster trucks. That had been an interesting Wednesday. After Wilson's crying off (it had transpired that he'd agreed to see Stacy on the same night as the truck meet), House had been in something of a bind. The tickets were not cheap, and he didn't want the extra one going to waste so, heart in mouth, he had asked Cameron. Luckily she had accepted. After the evening was over he thought how cool it would have been if he had asked her out sooner.

For a second, the nephrologist completely lost himself in fond recollection, forgetting the sad events of the previous evening. The other two were looking at him. "Go run the labs", he snapped, jolting back to the depressing reality where Cameron was no longer his girlfriend.

But before they could carry out his command, the woman herself came through the door and shrugged into the white coat draped, as it always was, over the back of her chair at the table. "Sorry I'm late", she muttered, studiously avoiding eye contact with House.

"We have a case. The others are about to do some tests…".

Cameron nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Chase's eyes, meanwhile, darted between both of them. "You, er, OK?", he asked of the immunologist.

"I'm fine", she smiled weakly, leafing through the blue file on the table and glancing at the board. "You thinking steroids?".

"Mmm". Chase looked more closely at his female colleague. It was immediately obvious that she had been crying, her eyes red and hair tangled.

"Let's go, then".

Foreman evidently noticed too. "We can do them if you want a coffee or something?".

"I said I'm fine", she snapped, moving to leave.

"Go on", nodded House. "Let me know how it goes". The three fellows filed out and the door clanged shut behind them, leaving their boss staring forlornly at the whiteboard with its list of symptoms. Although his eyes traced the words, his mind was on Cameron. If this was to be the new reality, it promised to be a grim one. But he had no one to blame but himself.