Chapter 24

I yawned loudly as I walked through PPTH's lobby. House and I hadn't ended up getting back to his apartment and going to sleep until well past three o'clock. He'd fulfilled his end of the bargain; he'd made up an appropriate story to explain away the ASS to Elise and Ed. The team knew the truth - or the closest thing to it, anyway. House told them that Ed's best friend, the man Elise had slept with, had called him and admitted to sleeping with her after he began to notice symptoms of his own.

It was a neat cover. The ducklings only questioned why House had decided not to tell Ed about the affair. House had deflected well, as was his talent, and luckily, House hadn't raised his fellows to the point where they were overly-suspicious and pros at spotting lies quite yet, so everything had gone off well enough.

Elise was responding to treatment. She was already feeling much better. Although the treatment for African Sleeping Sickness had a ten percent mortality rate, it appeared that Elise was going to pull through.

In a few days, she would go home with her husband, and all would be right in their world.

Hopefully.

I still didn't know if I'd made the right decision, and although I was loathe to admit it, House had a point yesterday when he said that I was straying into the territory of playing God. I worried that I might have stepped too far out of what was appropriate for me to mess with. What if this somehow managed to severely screw with the timeline and cause something catastrophically bad to happen?

I was torn. I'd either made a very good decision or a very bad one. I'd been sent here for a reason though, right? Why not help as many people as I could?

Sometimes, this 'knowing the future' thing really sucks.

I made my way to the cafeteria. I had work later tonight, but I was free for the day, and I was spending it at the hospital, as per usual. I'd been out roaming the university grounds aimlessly, and my cheeks were pink and stinging from the harsh February wind. A cup of hot chocolate sounded very nice at the moment.

However, I stopped when I passed the pathology lab. Cameron was in there, alone. There was something about the draw of her shoulders that set off alarm bells in my head. Something was wrong. After a few seconds' deliberation, I made my mind up to see what was wrong. I pushed through the glass doors and into the lab. Cameron didn't even seem to notice my presence.

Although on the show, I found Cameron to be occasionally annoying - and now that I knew her in real life, there were certainly times when I still wanted to hit her about the face and neck - but out of all of House's fellows, I was the closest to her, and I couldn't help but like Cameron. She was just one of those people. Kind, easy to talk to, smart... she was a good person.

I heard the distinct sounds of crying. Yikes. Crying people weren't a specialty of mine. Still, I felt inclined to help.

"Cameron?"

Cameron turned her head just enough to check and make sure it was me before hiding her face once again. "Hi, Anya."

"Uh-oh." I hadn't really meant to say that out loud, but oh well. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm re-calibrating the centrifuge," she told me, her voice hoarse.

"Cameron. Turn around," I told her. After a long pause, she obeyed, swiveling on her lab stool. Her eyes were glistening, the area around them puffy and red. Ah, Jesus. Poor Cameron. I didn't remember this part in the episode - I wondered what happened. "Un-calibrated centrifuges," I said. "I mean, yeah, they get to me too." I knocked a fist against my upper chest. "Right here."

"I'm not crying," she said weakly.

"Okay." I nodded, waiting for Cameron to continue.

"It's... this thing with Ed and Elise, it reminds me of..." She trailed off, seeming to struggle to collect herself. She scrutinized me for a moment, as if trying to decide whether I was trustworthy or not. Finally, she pressed on. "When I was in college, I… I fell in love, and... I got married. And…"

Oh my God. Cameron was telling me about her husband. Wasn't she supposed to have this conversation with House? Where the hell was he? I felt my eyes widen, but I said nothing, allowing Cameron to keep going.

"We... we were only together six months," she said. "It was... he died. Thyroid cancer metastasized to his brain. There was nothing they could do. I was twenty-one, and… I watched my husband die."

I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. When it was a plot device on a TV show, it was a lot easier to deal with. When it was thrown in your face in real life... I realized there was warmth building in the back of my eyes.

House had said something to her about how good people couldn't be well-adjusted in the original conversation, I was pretty sure. However, I was not House. I didn't need to analyze Cameron for her decision to marry a dying man. I didn't even need to point out that thyroid cancer would've been diagnosed at least a year before his death, so she would've married him knowing that he was going to die.

Lost on what else to do, I walked forward, and I wrapped my arms around her narrow shoulders. Cameron stiffened in surprise briefly, but then reacted, hugging me back. There was a distant mental scream from my inner fangirl, but I managed to stifle it due to the seriousness of the occasion.

"I'm sorry," was all I said. "I can't imagine what that must've been like." I knew what it was like losing someone that you loved... but knowing that they were going to die for months beforehand, knowing that you were going to lose them? That was something I couldn't comprehend. The kind of dread and hopelessness that came from that... it must have been awful.

"It was hell," Cameron told me. "With what happened with Ed and Elise..." She sighed heavily, pulling back. I withdrew from the immunologist. "Sometimes I wonder if there's even any point to it. Love, I mean."

"Of course there's a point to love," I told her. "That's the whole point of life, isn't it? Love?"

Cameron gave me a sad smile after wiping the sleeve of her lab coat across her eyes. "You've never been in love, have you?"

I pursed my lips. I guess if I had to think about it, that was the answer. "I've loved a few people," I told her. "Have I ever been in love...? No, I don't think so." I tilted my head, brain finally fully processing what Cameron had said. "Wait, what do you mean about Ed and Elise? Ed doesn't know that Elise was unfaithful. They're still together... maybe they'll even stay together."

Cameron seemed confused. "House didn't tell you...?"

"Tell me what?"

"He told Ed what Elise did," Cameron informed me, sorrow evident in her tone. "He's already gone. They're both heartbroken."

I stared at Cameron for a long moment. "What!?" I exploded.

"House-"

"Where is he?" I cut her off. "When did he do this?"

"About two hours ago," she said, seeming concerned by my reaction.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Anya-"

"I'm going to kill him!" I clenched my hands into fists. "Cameron, thank you for telling me about your husband, and if you ever want to talk about it – or anything at all, I want you to know I'm here for you, okay? But right now, I've got to go commit patricide."

"Anya, wait-"

I was already out the door and heading to House's office like a bat out of hell. I took the stairs, forgoing the elevator. I couldn't believe this – what the hell was the point of telling Ed about what Elise did? She was cured, House had already called the man Elise had slept with to warn him about the ASS, there was no reason to ruin their marriage! He had no right!

Bastard!

It was strange being mad at House. Despite the fact that one of House's finest talents was his ability to piss people off, it was rare that the diagnostician even irritated me. After watching the show for so long, I'd already been prepared and ready for House's less pleasant qualities. However, this wasn't just House being a dick.

He had no reason for telling Ed about Elise's affair, as far as I could tell, other than straight up sadism. Normally I wouldn't have thought so lowly of House, but right now, my mind was clouded by anger and outrage.

Soon, I was bursting through the doors of House's office. He and Wilson were sitting inside, Wilson in House's Eames chair, and House at his desk.

"What the hell, House?" I said immediately, much more loudly than I originally intended.

"You're going to have to be more specific," House said, glancing up at me, his eyes disinterested. "You're angry. That's… out of character."

"You're damn right I'm angry," I hissed. Wilson craned his neck to look at me, his lips pursed in a worried line.

Understanding dawned on House's features. "So, which one of the three musketeers told you?"

"Doesn't matter," I said. "What matters is why the hell did you tell Ed about the affair!?"

"He deserved to know the truth," House replied in a low voice.

"Don't pretend that you did this to be noble," I snapped. "Why even come to me in the first place? Why give me a choice, when you knew damn well you were just going to out the affair, anyway?"

"I wanted to see what you would choose," House told me bluntly, no hint of remorse in his voice.

"So that's all this was? Some – some fucking experiment? I'm not your lab rat, House!" I shouted. Wilson's eyes went back and forth between the two of us, like he was watching a Ping-Pong match.

"That's exactly what you are," House said sharply. "You watched me on TV for eight years; did you really expect it to be any different than this? Why exactly do you think I let you move in with me? It wasn't your charming personality, it was because you're a lab rat in a maze and I want to see what turns you take."

I was at a loss for words for several seconds before I recovered. "Because it's interesting to you," I whispered, just loud enough for House to hear me.

"Yes."

I glared at him, angry as all hell. My fingernails dug into my palms. I didn't know what to say, and I felt like whatever came out was just going to be something House could use against me.

"Well," I eventually spat out. "I wonder what will happen to me when I'm no longer interesting to you."

I didn't give House a chance to respond. I stormed out. If I stuck around, God only knew what I would say. I couldn't deal with House right now. I struck out in a random direction, letting my feet carry me wherever they pleased. Before I knew it, I found myself climbing the emergency stairwell that led to the roof of the hospital. It was as good a place as any.

I rested my arms on the barrier, ducking my head against the crisp breeze. I breathed in the cold air. This was turning out to be a pretty crappy week. More cold air. In. Out. In. Out. I pretended the ice was cleansing my body and mind of all of the tension and anger. I had to be an adult about this. I couldn't let my emotions get the best of me.

I knew that I was no more than a puzzle to House; I'd known that going into the mess I was currently in. I tried not to think about it much, but I knew it to be true. I was a Rubik's cube, and the only chance House had to solve me was to keep me around, whether he necessarily liked my presence or not. I'd allowed that fact to drift to the back of my mind over the past few weeks, but now I was facing the stark reality of it...

Lab rat, huh?

"Anya."

Wilson's voice startled me, but I didn't let it show. I didn't know how he found me up on the roof, and at the moment, I didn't really care.

"Don't apologize for him, Wilson," I said, not bothering to look back at the oncologist.

"I'm not." I heard his footsteps behind me. A few moments later, Wilsons was leaning on the barrier next to me. "I'm here to ask you why you think House told his patient's husband about her affair."

"I don't know, for the sick pleasure? Why does it even matter? It doesn't change anything," I replied tersely.

"Motives make a lot of difference," Wilson said gently. He didn't want to provoke me, and I didn't blame him. No one in the House universe had ever seen me upset – upset in this particular way, that is – so he probably wasn't one hundred percent sure how to handle me at the moment. "You don't think House is a sadist. He doesn't cause pain just because he can."

"I don't know what to think."

"Anya…" Wilson sighed. "You were worried, weren't you? Worried about whether you made the right choice with Ed and Elise or not?"

"Of course I was worried," I responded. "I had no idea whether I was actually helping the two of them or not. I could've just made things worse."

Wilson clasped his hands together. "You would've felt guilty if things had gone wrong, right?"

"Yes – but where are you going with all of this?"

"You always see the best in people, Anya. I'm asking you to see the best in House." It took me a long moment to realize what Wilson was getting at.

"You think he did this to take the responsibility off of my shoulders," I surmised. "To make it so I wouldn't be culpable if things went south."

"Yep." Wilson nodded in affirmation.

"You're forgetting one thing," I pointed out. "If House didn't want the decision to fall on me, then why bother asking me about it in the first place? Why offer to cover up the affair if he was just going to tell Ed about it anyway?"

"He had time to think," Wilson reasoned. "That's why he told the husband today instead of last night. When he asked you, you were his lab rat… but he changed his mind." Wilson held up his hands. "This is all purely speculative – it's not like House would actually tell me what's going on in that rat maze of a brain of his – but coming from someone who's been best friends with him for years, well… this was House caring."

I finally turned my head, meeting the oncologist's eyes. "Caring?" I echoed. "About me?" I laughed. "Come on."

"Anya, you said that House is your hero. You said that underneath all of the sarcasm and misanthropy, he's got a heart of gold." Wilson scrutinized me. "Is it so hard to believe that after living with you for almost three months, that he could possibly give a damn about you?"

"I guess I just…" I pursed my lips. "I guess I just assumed the worst."

Wasn't that exactly what always pissed me off when I watched the show?

With the exception of early-season Cameron, everyone on the show always seemed to be so quick to write House off as a complete dick and assume the worst of him. For the most part, it seemed like everyone thought that he was a soulless bastard – when a large majority of the time, the less-than-kind things that House did had the ulterior motive of helping someone out.

There were a lot of reasons that I called House my hero. One of them was the fact that while House may not have always done the right thing, and sometimes didn't even try, when he did do the right thing, he never bothered to take credit. House never did anything to earn approval, or acceptance. He helped because he could and because he wanted to, even if he caught nothing but hell for his efforts.

Was it so hard to believe that House did something with good intentions? It shouldn't have been.

I put my head in my hands. "Stupid son of a bitch," I cursed under my breath. Wilson chuckled.

"Complicated, brooding, emotionally stunted geniuses… great on TV, not so great to have as a roommate in real life," the doctor mused.

"No kidding," I sighed, lifting my head to meet Wilson's eyes. "Great. Now what am I going to do? I completely freaked out at him, and in his own weird, fucked-up, House was… he was trying to help me."

"Do you want my advice?" Wilson asked.

"That's kind of a given, don't you think?"

"Alright… you do nothing."

"Do… nothing?" I repeated slowly. "That's your sage wisdom? Do nothing?"

"Listen, when House and I fight – and we do, all of the time – we ignore each other for a few days, cool down, and then we go on like nothing ever happened at all. You saw it when we got into that argument on New Years. Just give him space, he'll give you space, and in a week, everything will be back to normal."

"Yeah, but Wilson, House loves you. You could burn down his apartment and push him into traffic, and he'd forgive you the next day. You guys' friendship is a little bit different than my relationship with him."

Wilson seemed surprised by my use of the word 'love', but he didn't comment on it. "I don't know about that, but I will tell you this... if House has a soft spot for anybody, it's you. I don't know if it's because you're the first person in a long time who actually sees the good in him before the bad, or because you're an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a taco, but regardless... he likes you. Honestly. In a few days, you two will be fine."

I raised a dubious eyebrow at the oncologist. "Yeah, well..." I shrugged, puffing out my cheeks and staring out at the snow covered grounds of the hospital and university. "I guess we'll see."

"We'll see," Wilson agreed. "I'm glad he's got you, you know."

I wasn't sure how to reply. "I'm flattered, but... why?"

"You look up to him, you like him, and you care about him, just because he is who he is. You've seen him in his worst moments, his best moments, and in spite of everything, you have this unshakable faith in him," Wilson explained. "He'd never admit it, but I think that's comforting, to him. That someone's seen straight into his soul and likes what they've found there."

"Did you just admit that House has a soul?" I asked with a flicker of amusement. "I think I need to get that on tape."

Wilson snorted. "I'm guessing the smile means that you're okay now?"

I hadn't even realized I was smiling. "I don't know if okay's the word, but I'm better." I sighed. "Sucks about Ed and Elise, but at least I don't have to worry about something catastrophic happening because I changed the timeline."

"That's very glass half-full of you."

"What can I say? I'm an optimist." I pushed off of the barrier. "I gotta get going, I've got work in a half an hour. I guess I'll try the 'ignoring each other for the greater good' thing."

"It works, trust me."

"I do," I said emphatically. I made my way for the stairs that led back into the hospital, but I halted just short of them, turning to look back at Wilson. "And Wilson?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."