A/N: Finally got the second part of this thing pounded out. Apparently spring break does wonders for writer's block. Although I'm sure that the fact that I'm not getting my ass handed to me by my classes at the moment is helpful as well.
Major props to Vartanluvva, who didn't kill me for taking so long to finish this and loved it when I sent it to her. huggles
Feedback: Is the ultimate ego booster—please review!
Chase and Foreman had been right about House being back before they knew it, but they weren't happy about it. He had gotten through the induced coma without any complications, and after a bout of physical therapy there were no lasting effects from his second infarction. Any other person would be thrilled with their good luck, but not House. To him, it only proved that his treatment would have worked the first time, if Stacy hadn't interfered. It was proof that full mobility had been stolen from him, and he became more bitter and cruel than ever before, lashing out at patients and other doctors alike. Even Wilson was feeling the strain. The only one unperturbed was Cameron. All his barbs simply rolled off of her—she seemed to understand that it was redirected anger, nothing more.
Cameron and House. It was a situation Wilson was having trouble wrapping his mind around. Cameron had been glued to House's side ever since he had awoken from the coma—driving him to and from work and physical therapy, and even making sure he ate decently. Wilson knew this because, of the four times the oncologist had gone to visit his friend after the infarction, Cameron had been there for three of them. The first time she opened the door, Wilson had stuttered and left in an embarrassed rush. He stayed the second time, but felt awkward the entire night. The third time he brought extra takeout, just in case, and it was like old times plus one—albeit with Cameron forcing House to actually eat the vegetables in his Chinese and limiting him to two beers. The one night Wilson found House alone he had asked him about the situation, but House had given him a Look of Death and quickly changed the subject. Wilson didn't push—while everyone else was amazed at the routine they had fallen into, it was probably the only thing that had kept House from falling apart.
Cameron was in House's kitchen, stirring a pot of soup on the stove, while House sat at the table, preparing a salad and watching his Tivo'd General Hospital at the same time. He'd been back at work for over a month, and things weren't getting any better. Cuddy had even stopped Cameron in the hall, quietly informing the immunologist of the latest complaint against House and begging her to talk to the man. While Cuddy didn't want to take action, soon she wouldn't have any choice.
Cameron set down her spoon and finally spoke. "So, Cuddy talked to me today."
House looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Was she trying to get you into a threesome? She's been coming after me for months—knew it was only a matter of time before she started harassing you."
The corner of her mouth quirked upward. "We'd have to actually be having sex before we could have a threesome."
House turned toward her this time, raising an impressed eyebrow. "Touché."
Cameron nodded her head at the compliment, then quickly went back to business. "Seriously, though, House—you've had four complaints lodged against you this week. If it gets any worse, she's going to have to suspend you."
House just scoffed. "She's used that threat before and never followed through. I'm not worried."
"Everyone else is, House!" Cameron replied. "And I'm sure you've never been this bad before—you're going off on patients and doctors alike…you made a little girl cry the other day! Even Wilson's starting to shy away from you—"
"Too bad!" House exploded, turning his glare fully towards her. "I'm a little pissed off at the moment, and the last thing on my mind is if I've hurt poor little Wilson's feelings—or anyone else's! After all I've gone through, you'd think I'd have the right to—"
Cameron interrupted, no longer cowed by House's tirades. "The right? You have the right to act like an ass to everyone you come in contact with? Oh, yeah, that's right—Stacy stole the use of your leg." The sarcasm dripped from her voice. "I've never known you to be such an optimist, House."
House stood up at this, crossing his arms across his chest and facing her. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Cameron was on a roll now, hands gesturing in front of her. "You're assuming that since the procedure worked this time, it would have worked last time if Stacy hadn't gone against your wishes. That's a best case scenario if I've ever heard one. At the hospital you look at every angle, but when it comes to yourself you throw all that out the window. Have you even considered the other possibilities? Considered how much medicine and technology has advanced since your first infarction, and the fact that even though it would have been the same procedure, it probably wouldn't have had the same outcome?"
House tried to interrupt her, but Cameron would have none of that. "Let's look at some other scenarios, why don't we? Let's say Stacy never heard about the middle option, and had your leg amputated instead. You'd have to use a prosthesis, but you'd have nowhere near the amount of pain you do today. Or maybe something goes wrong when they remove the clot, and you die on the table—or they can't bring you back when you go into cardiac arrest. Or maybe she does follow your wishes, and puts you in the coma, and you come out fine. But maybe you don't. Maybe there are too many toxins in your system, and you make Stacy watch you die without there being a damn thing she can do about it! Would you really have wanted to put her through that?"
Cameron finally finished, breathing heavily, and watched House's expression shift to one of horror and realization as her words sunk in. He grabbed the back of the chair and slowly lowered himself back into it, as if his legs couldn't hold him up anymore. There was silence for a few moments as House sat hunched over, staring at his hands, palms up between his legs, elbows resting on his thighs. Then Cameron crossed the short distance and knelt before him, placing her hands on his knees and looking up at him. "Yes, things could have gone much better the first time," she said softly, "but they could have gone much, much worse. And no matter what, House, you can't know what could have happened—and you can't change it. You can't live your life in the past, in 'what-if's'. Focus on what you do know: you went through the worst event in your life for a second time—and came out unscathed. You not only got a second chance, you got a third chance. Most people would be jumping for joy. Now, I know you'll never act like that, but do you think you could let go of this anger you've been carrying around for the past few months, for all of our sakes—and yours?"
House let out a deep, exhausted sigh and leaned his head back until he was looking at the ceiling. "I can try."
"Good." Cameron reached for his hands and squeezed them. "That's all I'm asking."
He looked down at her again, blue eyes stormy, and whispered, "What are you even doing here, Allison?"
Her heart twisted at the broken expression on his face, the question behind the question echoing through her mind—Why are you wasting your time with me?
"No. Don't do that to yourself, House—Greg." She reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. "I'm here because I want to be. I told you in the hospital that this was like deja-vu and that I was afraid of going through it all again—but I did. And I would do it a million times over again if I had to. Nobody's forcing me to do anything—never forget that, okay?"
The nod of his head was minute, but Cameron caught it, and she smiled as she stood up. "Good. I'm going to go make sure the soup doesn't boil over," she said, trailing a hand over his shoulder as she walked back to the kitchen. She watched House intently, noting when he finally sat up straighter, squared his shoulders, and went back to the salad. It was then that she spoke. "Oh, and House?"
She waited until he turned to her. "Cuddy's going to have to find someone else. When we do start having sex, I want you all to myself."
House gaped at her for a moment, eyes and mouth wide O's of astonishment. Then he pulled himself together and grinned at her, something none of them had seen for months. "You sound quite sure of yourself."
"Oh, I am." She grinned cheekily back at him, then turned back to the soup. He did the same with the salad, chuckling to himself.
It may have taken a while, but the second time around he was going to be fine.
END