Summery: Just
read…
Spoilers: Up until midway through "Heavy" and
takes a twist.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: You
know I don't own it! I play.
Author's
Note: The beginning of this fic isn't
happy. So bear with me. This is what happens after the scene in the
pathology lab in "Heavy". In my world, the rest of the episode
didn't happen, okay? Okay. I promise, if you are a fan of my
stories, I won't let you guys down! Just hang in there!
"Brrrr. Icy. Definitely think twice before correcting one of your mistakes again."
Cameron was seething. Why did House insist on coming to rub her nose in an error she didn't even make? "Correct all you want," she said. "Of course, it's a bit more productive if there's an actual mistake."
"Right, I always forget that part."
"I gave her the heparin, which means the necrosis is not a reaction to the warfarin, which is probably why she's not responding to your treatment."
"Yet." He paused. "If you didn't screw up, then what is it? You don't have an answer."
"Yet." She threw his own conceited answer at him.
"When you come up with something, let me know. I'll be in the clinic, warming up."
Cameron finally turned around to face him. "I'm the only one who's always stood behind you when you've screwed up."
"Why? Why would you support someone who screws up?"
"Because I'm not insanely insecure. And because I can actually trust in another human being and I am not an angry, misanthropic son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry," House said with a tilt of his head, "you said you weren't angry. Who would you fire?"
"No one."
He shook his head. "Not an option."
"If everyone took a pay cut and put in a few more hours we could all stay for the same amount of money."
"Figures you'd try and come up with a solution where no one gets hurt. The problem is, the world doesn't work that way just 'cause you want it to."
"Figures you'd stall and refuse to deal with the issue. Problem is, the world doesn't go away just because you want it to." With that, Cameron turned back to her microscope.
A few hours later, they had figured out that Jessica had Cushing's disease. The tissue necrosis was from hypercalcemia secondary to that disorder. And House never apologized to Cameron for accusing her of making a mistake. That was fine. She didn't apologize to him either. But it didn't mean that she still wasn't pissed off. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Looking at her watch, she decided that it was time to go home. It was nearly 9pm and frankly, she needed a drink.
Cameron collected her things and walked towards the elevators. As she passed by House's office, she saw him and Dr. Wilson talking. She considered stopping in to say goodnight to Wilson, but that also meant talking to House. And at this point in time, she didn't have anything to say to him. But, her mind being the traitor that it is started an internal tirade about the ever-pleasant doctor.
How is it that he always knows what buttons to push? To make me doubt myself? I know I didn't do anything wrong, yet one word from him and I go 'maybe I did make a mistake'… Be strong Allison! You are a better doctor than that!
She walked through the parking garage lost in her own little world. And damn Chase! Protecting his own ass. He knew I didn't do anything wrong! I swear if he ever does that again, I will bitch slap his ass all the way back to Australia!
Her thoughts drifted back to House. She leaned her head on the top of her car. "Why me? Why do I always fall for the wrong guys?" She sighed. "Maybe I like guys who can rile me up. Maybe Mom was right. If they pick on you, they like you." Cameron laughed. "Maybe I'm just being optimistic. Maybe that's how you know you really like someone; if they irritate you to no end. Maybe I should stop talking to myself."
"Maybe you should pay
more attention when walking by yourself at night." Cameron froze
at the unfamiliar voice behind her. "Don't make a noise and get
in the car."
She did as she was told, dread pooling in her
stomach. There was no one else around.
"Let's get this party started, shall we," the man asked locking the doors to the car.
"So, Cameron was right all along," House commented to Wilson. "She didn't give extra warfarin. It was Cushing's."
"And let me guess. You didn't apologize to her for being an ass."
"Now why would I do that? Would make me seem like I've gone soft." He picked up his bag. "Let's blow this joint, shall we?"
They walked out towards the parking garage together. "So what are you plans for tonight," Wilson asked.
"Go home, watch T.V., possibly order a hooker. It's been a while. I'm kinda horny."
"Oookay. A little too much information there."
"Well, it doesn't seem like I'm the only one," he commented, noticing one of the cars in the lot with fogged up windows and rocking.
They both stopped to stare. "Isn't that… Cameron's car," Wilson asked.
Cameron wrestled with her attacker to no avail. He had his hands everywhere. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see anything. She couldn't move. Cameron thought she was dying. The buttons on her blouse were ripped off and his hand was down her pants. She could feel his fingers bruising her thighs. She kept pushing and clawing at his face and raked a line down the side of his neck. "Bitch," he spat out, and slapped her in the face. Stay awake, Allison, she thought, seeing stars. You have to keep fighting. She felt around to try to unlock the door, but got the window button instead. It slowly moved down. She balled up her fist and punched him as hard as possible in the face, praying he would loosen his grip on her just enough so she could slip out the window.
He did. "FUCK!"
Cameron scurried onto her knees and stuck her upper body out of the car. She was up to her waist when he grabbed her again and tried to pull her back in. "You are going to pay for that."
Tears burned her eyes, but she saw House and Wilson walking in the lot.
"HELP!" she screamed at them.
"What the hell is going on there," Wilson asked. "Did Cameron have a date tonight?"
"I have no idea," House muttered. "Who cares? Let her do what or whoever she wants."
"Hold up, she's rolling down the window."
"HELP! House, Wilson—" As she was dragged back in the car, her attacker took her head and smashed it on the steering wheel. Seeing people, he darted out of the car, trying to make an escape.
They both dropped whatever they were holding and dashed for the car. "Follow him," he spat at Wilson, who was already hot on the attacker's tail. "I'll see to Cameron."
He hurried over to the car and opened the door. Cameron was barely conscious. She had a bloody lip and a bruise forming on her cheek and eye. House pulled her out of the car and cradled her in his lap. "Cameron, can you hear me?"
"House?"
"I'm here," he said, covering her with his coat.
"I'm sorry…" she mumbled, and then passed out.
He pulled out his cell phone and called 911. "Police," he said, voice catching "There's been an attack. Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Send a car NOW."
Wilson jogged back, out of breath. "I lost him. We got out of the garage, and I lost him. I'm sorry." He crouched down to see the damage. "How is she?"
"He tried to rape her. Her shirt is busted and her pants are undone," he growled. "The police are on their way. Go get a gurney and nurses STAT. We need to get her taken care of immediately."