Chapter 39 – Control Freak

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, guys! Work has been killing me lately and not leaving much time for... yeah, no, I'm lying. I've put a hundred hours into Fallout 4 in the past month and written almost nothing. The blame rests solely on my shoulders.

Also, something I'll talk about here because it was kind of hard to discern in canon: the show wasn't clear as to when Chase took his leave. The resident says, "What did you with your time off?" but Chase offers for her to come with him, and Foreman later tells him to, "Go lick your wounds in Gstaad." This implies, to me, that Chase had yet to go, which means that there isn't any kind of time gap between Cursed and Control. We good?

"Anya? You okay?"

No. Not even remotely. But I didn't tell Zach that as I stared down at the front page of The Princeton Herald. I had not been okay yesterday, I was not okay today, and I would probably not be okay at any point in the foreseeable future. For quite a few reasons, actually.

One: House and Cameron were sleeping together, by all appearances, and my actions may have inadvertently sunk two ships and altered the fabric of the universe. Decidedly not good.

Two: Every minute of my life until I found out about the scholarship and whether I was accepted to Princeton or not was going to be riddled with almost unbearable anxiety.

And, to round it out, three: Edward Vogler was now the chairman of the hospital board... and that meant the Vogler mess had finally started. The first multi-episode arc I would have to manage, and I had already altered so many details that I had almost no idea what to expect.

Needless to say, I was more than a little panicked, at present. I'd been trying to keep it together all day, but after seeing the newspaper on my lunch break, any rational thought had gone out the window. So I sat in the break room, eating a muffin, and staring with utter horror at Edward Vogler's grinning face as he shook Cuddy's hand in front of the local press.

"The end is nigh," I responded simply. Zach shot me a concerned look.

"I'm not sure how to respond to that."

"It's kind of like being tied down to the train tracks. You know the train is coming, you know you're gonna die, but what are you supposed to do?" I chewed philosophically on my muffin. "It's inevitable."

"Are you high, or something?"

"Unfortunately, no. I'm just... I've got a bad case of the nerves." True enough, though I was sugar-coating it a bit. It wasn't like I could tell Zach in intimate detail why I was so freaked out today.

"Well, you're on your fifth cup of coffee... maybe cut back a little?"

"Not a bad idea," I admitted. I ran a hand through my hair. I needed to get my head in the game. The Cameron and House thing, for the time being, wasn't something I could really do anything about – whether it was for the better, worse, or absolute worst, only time would tell. And all I could do in regards to my future college career was wait.

My biggest problem right now was Vogler. So, I had to focus on that.

"Hand me a pen and paper, would you?" I asked Zach. He looked dubious, but he did snake one from the counter and hand it to me.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Making a list."

And so, I set about my work.

"Item one," I announced, throwing my feet up on House's desk as he entered his office. "If you're going to be doing not-doctor related things, do it out of sight of administration. In other words, no more yo-yo or DS sessions in the pathology lab. Glass walls are not your friend."

House glanced around at the glass walls of his office. "I knew they were working against me." His eyes flicked to me. "What are you doing?"

"Saving your ass. Item two is sitting on your Eames chair." I pointed. A neatly folded white lab coat sat there waiting for him. "It'll fit you. Don't say it itches. I used the fabric softener you like."

"I'm not wearing–"

"Item three," I interrupted. "Do not loudly disrespect Cuddy, do not defy her openly unless it's just the two of you. She needs to establish herself as the boss, not Vogler. If he sees you taking her down a notch every chance you get, he's going to see weakness and pounce. Being an ass to Cuddy is only going to give him more power over you, and you don't want that."

Understanding dawned on House. "Ah. So that's what this is about. The new grand puba in town." House pushed the lab coat off of his chair with his cane, sending it to the floor. He flopped down, crossing his feet on the footstool. "I'm not worried about Vogler. I've been through three regime changes in this hospital. Vogler won't last the spring."

Well, he wasn't wrong, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "House. Future knowledge, remember? This is the first time I've actually gone out of my way to tell you not to do something. Look, I know you're a textbook case of Oppositional Defiant Disorder, but just this once, please listen to another human being."

"Because you've only got my best interest at heart, right?" House narrowed his eyes at me.

"Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"I believe that you believe it. Do I believe that what you think is best for me is really best for me? No."

"House..." I sighed. "Please."

"Oh, well, now that you've said please." He rolled his eyes. "Vogler isn't this hospital's savior in a tailored business suit. He says he'll cure this, he'll cure that... but he doesn't care about curing patients, he doesn't even care about treating them. What Vogler cares about is lining his pockets. If he cures cancer, that's not going to help him. What is he going to do with all of those borderline-useless meds his company puts out if nobody has cancer anymore? If people aren't sick, who does he market to? Saving the world isn't going to pad his bottom line. Keeping the world right where it is will."

"You're being overdramatic. He wrote PPTH a blank check to start legitimate research on how to get rid of the big killers out there. I don't like Vogler anymore than you do, trust me... but a hundred million dollars could go a long way for this hospital. I'm just trying to keep everyone from getting off on the wrong foot."

"So that would imply that we did get off on the wrong foot in the show... but given that it went on for seven years after the fact, the consequences of whatever I did couldn't possibly–"

"I'm not gonna argue with you. I'm trying to help. Accept it or don't." I rose to my feet. If House was determined to make things more difficult for himself and everyone else, there wasn't much I could do.

I was just grateful that Chase wasn't going to be here for the brunt of the arc. At least he'd be able to stay out of this mess, avoid his "x-rayed the same leg" mistake and his subsequent position as Vogler's personal rat. That would probably make his relationship with House, Foreman, and Cameron a lot smoother, without that lingering resentment in the air.

At least, that's what I was hoping for.

"And if you care, Item Four is this," I said, scooping up the list. "It's not my business to say how you should and shouldn't act with Cameron, but if I were you, I would keep it under wraps. Vogler's going to be out for blood, and a boss dating his underling? He'll jump on that in a second."

"Who said I'm dating her?" House challenged, looking up at me.

"Well... you."

"Sleeping together and dating isn't the same thing."

I glared at him. "Yeah." I folded up the list and pocketed it. Item Five would have to wait for later in the episode. "I'm out."

"Do you want me to date her?" he called after me. "She'd be a very fair step-mom!"

I pushed through the glass doors and groaned, "Kill me," under my breath.

A moment of realization hit me that afternoon, and I couldn't believe that I hadn't thought of it sooner.

Chase is gone.

Off in Australia. Not here. Not participating in differentials. Not offering ideas. Not being part of the machine that was the diagnostics department. Why I hadn't panicked about that sooner was beyond me. I'd been so distracted by everything that I hadn't even thought about it. If Chase wasn't here, saying his piece, being Chase, how would that impact things? Would they arrive at the same diagnoses? Would things still fall into place?

What if House and the team killed a patient because Chase wasn't there to offer his point of view?

What if my tampering ends up getting someone killed?

I had this realization while I was in the car, driving back to the apartment with the intention to spend my day trying to relax my wired nerves. But, after the Chase thing hit me, I did an illegal u-turn in the middle of the street and headed straight back to Princeton Plainsboro.

I only had one solution at the moment, and it wasn't even a good one.

I was going to have to be Chase.

I arrived in House's office just in the nick of time, it would seem.

"–took your parking space," I caught the end of what Foreman was saying just as I pushed into the differential room, breathing hard from having sprinted up there, my hair a flyaway mess from the high winds outside.

Cameron and Foreman both threw me confused glances. House didn't even bother to look up from the coffee he was brewing. "You okay?" Cameron asked.

"Fine, fine!" I squeaked, seating myself next to Cameron and trying to look natural. "Just thought I'd drop by."

"This is the part where Foreman usually says something about doctor/patient confidentiality that we all ultimately ignore," House chimed from the kitchenette.

Foreman gave House's back a dry look. "Yeah, well, I give up. And I can't pretend she doesn't raise good points when she's here."

Well damn. Coming from Foreman, that was pretty high praise. If only he knew that my supposed "medical expertise" came almost exclusively from watching a TV show.

"Thanks," I said, flashing him a brief smile. "Did Vogler really take House's parking space?"

"Yep. He's fifteen feet further away, now," Foreman replied.

That kind of pissed me off. With House's leg, fifteen feet could be a long way. "Wow. That's kind of a dick move."

"Having Vogler here might not be all bad, though," Cameron offered, adjusting her reading glasses. "That money could go a long way for the hospital."

Foreman leaned back in his chair, apparently amused. "Do you ever watch Gilligan's Island reruns and really, really think they're gonna get off the island this time?"

Cameron frowned. "We should introduce ourselves. It couldn't hurt."

"Make him a bundt cake," House suggested, scooping up his red coffee mug and turning to the three of us. "Patient hit a ten on the pain scale. What would explain that?"

I remembered Carly doubled over in her bed, screaming her head off. I pulled the patient file towards me, trying to drudge up everything I could remember from Control. Luckily, most of the Vogler arc episodes stood out to me a little more, as they'd been more plot-focused than the episodes that preceded them.

"It wasn't a clot," Foreman provided. "The angio was clean."

"What about the muscle biopsy?"

"No neurogenic or myopathic abnormalities." Foreman passed him the results of the muscle biopsy.

"She was also negative for trichinosis," Cameron shared. "No toxoplasmosis or polyarteritis nodosa, either."

Yeah. This scene felt a lot different than it had in the show. Plus, if I wasn't mistaken, this was the episode that Cameron tried the 101 Ways to Win an Argument tips, and I didn't see her doing any of that. I didn't know what caused that, but I didn't have time to figure out precisely which butterfly effect had made her change her tactics.

"Her sed rate is normal, resting at fifteen," I pointed out, reading through Carly's chart. "No inflammation, no immunologic response."

Cameron took off her glasses, eyes squinting in thought. "But what if her sed rate is elevated?"

"But... it isn't," I said slowly, not seeing her point.

Cameron paused for a moment, searching for a way to explain. "My Aunt Elyssa lives in Philadelphia," she began.

"Oh, good! It's story time! Let me go get my baa-baa."

Cameron shot House a glare, but continued anyway: "Her normal temperature is 96.2, not 98.6 like you and me. If her temperature rose to 96.8, she'd have a fever."

"And you're wondering if we can apply the same logic to Carly's sed rate," I guessed.

House snorted. "It's absurd." Then, he smirked. "I love it."

"If fifteen really is high for Carly, she could have inflammation," Cameron said.

"Which, in turn, could mean cancer. I'll talk to Wilson." House made for the door, leaving without another word.

Okay. I really hadn't offered much. I couldn't decide whether it was because I didn't remember any of Chase's lines from this differential, or if he had in all reality not participated too much to begin with. Regardless, the differential had ended with the same result as it had in the show, so we were in the clear.

Now I just had to worry about the next one, and the one after that... and the one after that...

He'd barely been gone for a week, and I already desperately wished Chase would come back.

I glanced between Foreman and Cameron, suddenly feeling awkward. "Uh... yay! Teamwork!" I tried to smile, but I think it came out as more of a grimace.

Foreman snorted and took Carly's chart from me. Cameron chewed on her lip, then set her hand on my shoulder. "Is it okay if I talk to you in House's office for a second?"

I felt eerily like a kid getting called to the principal's office, but I got up from my chair and followed her nonetheless, already harboring a strong suspicion as to what it was Cameron wanted to speak to me about.

As soon as the door closed behind us, soundproofing our conversation from Foreman, she turned to me, lips pursed in a pensive line. "I just thought that I should check in with you about everything."

Yep. This was going to be a Hameron talk. Great. "Uh... well, House's personal life is his own problem." If only. "So, whatever you guys... do, I don't really..." Oh God, I didn't want to have this conversation.

"It's only temporary. I don't want to make you feel like this is something it isn't."

Oh, so Cameron was down for the 'just sleeping together' thing, too? That came as a surprise. At least she wasn't getting upset that House wouldn't take their relationship to the next level. That was about the only thing that would make me more uncomfortable than I already was.

"If I could stay somewhere else, I would, but my original plan was to stay in Chase's spare room, but with him gone, that kind of throws a wrench into the works–"

My brain stalled out. "Wait. What?"

Cameron tilted her head. "What do you mean, what? Didn't House tell you?"

"I... don't think we're talking about the same thing."

Cameron blinked a few times, confusion evident in the dip of her brow. "My apartment is getting fumigated. I have to stay somewhere else for three days while they take care of it. I hate hotels, so I've been trying to find a place to stay. Your dad offered."

My mouth opened and closed a few times, soundlessly. That was... not what I was expecting. "So... this isn't about you two having sex?"

Cameron's eyes widened so comically I almost had to laugh. "S– you think I'm sleeping with House?"

"You... you are, aren't you?"

"No! We've spent some time together outside of work, but it's nothing like that," Cameron assured me hurriedly. "Why would you think that?"

Because House told me? After saying he'd been with Cameron, he made it clear in no uncertain terms what he meant by "with". But Cameron wasn't prone to lying, and the obvious surprise on her face told me that she didn't know where the hell I'd pulled the idea from.

So, House had lied to me about where he'd been. First hookers, then Cameron... why was he so desperate to keep it secret? What was so bad that he would rather me think he was banging one of his employees than find out the truth?

"Sorry." I struggled to get my mind back on track. "I– I guess I just assumed."

"That's what I was worried about. I didn't want you to think that me staying with you meant anything serious. It's just House doing me a favor."

That in and of itself was out-of-character. House, offering Cameron a place to stay? Letting her into his inner sanctum for three days? There had to be some bigger plan in play here. House would never just offer that.

"Right, right." I needed to track down House and figure this out as soon as humanly possible. "It's no problem. When are you staying with us? I'll make sure to have the air mattress set up for you. Unless you want the couch, then you're welcome to it."

Cameron kept talking, but I'd already tuned her out. I left as soon as it was appropriate to do so, heading down the fourth floor hallway.

It was time to find out what House was hiding.