I wrote this for NaNoWriMo. It's still in the early processes of being read over by two AMAZING betas and I'm in college, so I'm not sure how quickly I'll be updating. I was impatient to start posting it though. Ha.

It starts back sometime after Thirteen finds out she has Huntington's. After messing up on a patient, House decides to assign her to a very different sort of case. Eventually Cameron/Thirteen. =]

Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of its characters, no matter how much I wish I did. The story Thirteen tells is heavily scripted from The Fall, which I also do not own.

- I based this greatly on the movie The Fall. You don't have to have seen the movie to understand. It might be more interesting if you haven't seen it actually, but it doesn't matter either way.

"If this has anything to do with who made the mistake, I don't care." House let Cuddy's office door shut behind him after he made his way inside. "If it has to do with me making a mistake, I really don't care." He didn't walk more than a foot or so inside, leaning on his cane for support as he stood there. "So can I leave?"

Cuddy glanced up from some paper work and put her pen down on her desk. She narrowed her eyes at him and sighed. "You were supposed to be in my office twenty minutes ago. Sit down."

"That's odd." House walked over and took a seat. He propped his cane up against the chair. "I had no intention of being in your office twenty minutes ago. Can we get this lecture over with, because - well, I guess I don't have anything better to do. Take your time."

"A patient died today, because you -" Cuddy started, but House interrupted her.

"Wrong, a patient died today because of Thirteen. It had nothing to do with me, really. I was in my office napping." He tilted the chair back for a moment then leaned forward.

"And if you had been awake, you would have seen she was hung over and in no condition to even be in the same room with a patient, let alone working on one." She picked her pen back up and tapped it on the desk a few times. "You should have been paying attention."

"She shouldn't have been hung over. Why are you giving me a lecture? Shouldn't she be the one you're -" House frowned as Cuddy cut him off.

"You can lecture her and deal with her however you like. Fire her if you want. I'm lecturing you because you need to start paying more attention to things other than yourself. Why were you sleeping in your office anyway?"

"I had three reasons," House answered.

"Good ones?" Cuddy grabbed the papers she had been writing on and continued jotting down notes for a meeting. "Well?" She glanced up at him for a brief moment.

"Well, let's see in a minute," House answered. "I'm just making them up now." He paused and glanced around her office then stared at the ceiling for a moment. "One: I was tired. Two: I was bored. Three: I wanted to dream about you not having any clothes on."

"House!" Cuddy scolded and dropped her pen on the paper.

"Which brings me to the fourth reason," House continued, pleased that he could bother her so quickly.

She sighed. "I thought you said there were only three." Hearing the first three had been bad enough. This conversation was going nowhere and fast.

"I thought you'd accept one of them," House answered. He got to his feet. "Now that we've both decided I need to go make Thirteen pay for her crimes, I should probably go do that."

"Not so fast." Cuddy stood and grabbed a sticky note from her desk. "She's not going to be the only one 'paying for her crimes', you -"

"That phrase only sounds cool coming from me," House informed her. "Plus, last time I checked, sleeping wasn't a crime. Maybe I should check again. Do you think Google would give me a list of things I shouldn't -"

"You are also going to be doing a little extra something." She handed him the note.

House looked it over. "It has a room number on it. I don't even know whose room this is."

"You should. He's your patient." Cuddy crossed her arms. "His parent's left and it doesn't look like they're coming back. Not only will you be treating him, you'll also be keeping him company a few hours a week until…just go do it."

"Huh." House glanced down at the room number again. "You want me to socialize with a dying patient?"

"Maybe it'll teach you to care about someone other than yourself." She returned to her seat and leaned back, waiting for him to try a hundred ways to get out of it.

"You're right." House looked up at her, keeping a straight face.

She looked stunned. "I am?" She quickly tried to cover her question. "I am. Now leave."

"My pleasure." House turned and left her office. He rolled his eyes and crumpled the piece of paper once he was sure he was out of sight. Like hell he'd waste his time to sit at some dying kid's side. It wasn't like it would mean anything to the kid after he died anyway.

He limped down the hall slowly, not really too interested in dealing with Thirteen, who he knew was in there waiting for him. He had told her to be there at the exact moment he was leaving to go see Cuddy. He hoped giving her a few minutes waiting in agony would be torture and she would seriously consider what she had done. Maybe she could give him an answer, because he sure as hell didn't know what had convinced her she was alright to treat someone when she was obviously exhausted and not paying attention to anything around her.

He pushed his door open to find her standing in front of his desk. One of her hands was tapping the wood and the other was trembling as she studied it. He cleared his throat and watched her quickly shove the trembling hand in her pocket.

"House…"

"Shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses." He walked over to his desk and took a seat. His eyes narrowed as Thirteen also sat down. "Get up. If you sit, I feel like you'll be here longer than five minutes. You wouldn't even be in here five seconds if it was up to me, but Cuddy thinks I should talk to you."

Thirteen got to her feet, gluing her eyes to his desk. She bit back the urge to ask him when he started listening to what Cuddy wanted from him. She knew she was in no position to say anything. If she had, the first thing she would have asked was if he was going to fire her. She knew she deserved to pack her things and leave.

"I should fire you." House almost confirmed her fears, but he continued speaking. "But instead, I have something better." He uncrumpled the piece of paper in his hand and glanced at it before handing it over. Once she took it from him, he leaned back in his chair.

"What is this?" Thirteen smoothed out the yellow sticky note and read over the number. She looked up at him in confusion then down at his new task for her again.

"It's your new case," House answered.

"You're putting me on another case?" Thirteen raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I figured you'd keep me as far away from the patients in this hospital as possible."

"Trust me, this will be the only patient you're going to be around," House answered. "And you won't be doing any medical procedure on him at all, got it?"

"Well, then what am I going to do? Read him bedtime stories?" Thirteen asked sarcastically. She placed the paper in her pocket and stared at him.

"Well, that would be fitting," House answered. "Go there and wait outside. And when I say wait outside, I mean do it in silence. Until you can stop wallowing in self-pity by destructing with alcohol and whatever else you're doing, this is what you're going to be doing. I'll meet you there after I run a little errand." He lifted his hand and shooed her from the room.

"I'll probably be waiting out there thirty minutes," Thirteen muttered as she spun around and began heading out the door.

"Your silence started after I said the word 'errand'," House informed her. "Now go."

She wanted to tell him she was already going. Instead, she bit down on her tongue and walked a bit faster - holding her head high with confidence. Once outside his office, her eyes dropped to the ground and her shoulders slumped. She bitterly dragged her feet across the floor, fighting the urge to mutter under her breath. If she spoke, she knew it would somehow get back to him. House had a way of finding out everything. Not watching where she was going, she half ran into someone walking down the opposite way down the hall.

"Sorry," Cameron apologized quickly. "I wasn't looking and…" Her voice trailed off when Thirteen glanced at her but just continued walking. "Huh." Cameron rubbed her shoulder and continued on her way to House's office, pausing when she got to the doorway. "You paged me."

"Your shirt is rather low today," House commented.

Cameron's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink and she tugged at the shoulders of her sleeves to pull up her shirt. "You paged me to tell me my shirt was too low?"

"What?" House asked. "No. I thought we were stating the obvious. Don't pull it up. I like it that way." He smiled and stood up. "I have a case you might be interested in."

"I don't work for you anymore," Cameron reminded him. She subconsciously tugged her shirt up once again and watched as he walked toward her. "Why do you think I might be interested?"

"Walk with me," House answered and linked arms with her. "Think we should skip? We could do a re-enactment of The Wizard of Oz. Might be a little challenging with my cane though…"

"House," Cameron said unsurely. She walked beside him, not unlinking their arms. "I have the ER to take care of. I don't have time to take over the cases you just don't feel like dealing with."

"Oh, this isn't my case," House assured her. "It belongs to Thirteen."

"You mean Dr. Hadley?" Cameron asked, coming to a stop. "You want me to work with Dr. Hadley?"

"You have a problem working with bisexuals?" House questioned, smirking.

"Dr. Hadley is…What?" Cameron stammered. "No, it's not that." She glanced around, noticing Thirteen several feet away fidgeting and hovering outside a patient's room.

"Great then!" House exclaimed. "I know you like broken people and so this will be like…double the fun for you. You get Thirteen and a dying patient. I just need you to make sure she doesn't screw things up."

"So, you want me to baby-sit her?" Cameron double checked. She looked at Thirteen unsurely then glanced up at House.

"Precisely," House nodded.

"But why?" Cameron asked. "She's a grown -"

"Because I just said I don't want her to screw up," House snapped. If Thirteen screwed up, Cuddy would find out and he would be in deep trouble. "Just stand in the doorway and watch her. She's just there to keep the stupid kid company until he kicks the bucket. If she looks like she's going to do something that could get her or more specifically me into trouble, stop her. Make sure she doesn't upset the dying kid. Capiche?"

Cameron looked into his eyes for a moment but he quickly stared her down. She looked at her hands then nodded. "I'll try."

"Good." House patted her shoulder. "Stay here for a moment." He tapped her ankle with his cane then made his way over to Thirteen, noting how pathetic she looked trying to hide that she was nervous.

"You glance inside?" He stopped by Thirteen and peered into the room.

"There's just a boy in there." Thirteen didn't bother to look in, instead lifting her head and keeping her eyes on the wall in front of her.

"Exactly," House answered. "Just some lonely kid. The parents left once they found out he had virtually no hope of surviving and probably won't be back." He thought he almost saw a flash of sympathy on Thirteen's face. If she had felt anything, it was quickly hidden by a blank look. "So, what you're going to do is keep him content until he dies. Maybe it'll teach you to think about someone other than yourself for once." Huh, that last line sounded familiar. He shrugged it off. "Spending time with a dying patient who is a hell of a lot worse off than you are could make you respect your life and the lives of the ones around you a little bit more."

"You can't make me do this. I don't know anything about kids," Thirteen snapped, narrowing her eyes at him. "You should have just fired me when -"

"Read him a story. Sing him a lullaby. Buy the kid a matchbox car, for God's sake," House snapped back. "Alexander!" He called in false cheerfulness. He grabbed Thirteen by the arm and pulled her into the boy's view. The kid stared at them with a wavering smile. "This is Dr. Hadley. She's going to keep you company for awhile. If you're lucky, maybe she'll tell you a story."

Thirteen's breath hitched in her throat as the boy's eyes lit up at the mention of her telling him a story. She studied him. He couldn't have been more than five or six years old. He was smiling, but there was a pain that she easily could recognize in his eyes. "I don't know any stories," she whispered to House. She felt defeated just by looking at the kid, but wasn't about to give in so easily.

"Well make one up," House answered. He let go of her arm and gave her a small nudge inside the door.

Thirteen turned to him. "Why are you doing this?" She asked. "You could just take me into your office and give me some long lecture about how Huntington's shouldn't lead me down a path of self-destruction and I should be treasuring the life I have and…"

"Oh, look, you just lectured yourself and saved me from the trouble." House nodded. "I'm supposed to be teaching you. If I can do that without dealing with you, then more power to me. Stop being such a coward. It's a kid, not a five-hundred pound bull about to charge at you. Grow up and do your job."

After watching him walk off, Thirteen drew in a breath. Plastering a false smile on her face, she turned and faced the boy. He was staring at her rather intently. It was almost painful to know he was dying yet still see such a smile on his face. His two front teeth were missing and it made him look rather comical. "I'm Dr. Hadley." Thirteen grabbed a chair from beside the door and pulled it over to his bedside. "Your name is Alexander, right?" She sat down.

"Yeah." He nodded his head with enthusiasm. "But you can call me Alex." He stretched out his arm to shake her hand. "Are you gonna tell me a story?"

Thirteen sat motionless for a moment then carefully took his small hand in her own. "I uh…" She let go of his hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose. His name suddenly hit her. She flashed back to a movie she had seen several times - The Fall. "You know, you might be named after Alexander The Great," she stated. "What do you think of that?"

"Alexander The Great?" Alex repeated, tilting his head to the side. "Who is that?"

"He's the greatest warrior that ever lived," Thirteen answered. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the side of his bed. "I have a story about him. He was lost and all alone. He had been separated from his people and couldn't get back to them. He almost died."

"Do you want to see a picture?" Alex asked. He pulled a photograph from beneath his blanket and sat up a little more to scoot closer to Thirteen. "Here look."

Thirteen sat up a little straighter and glanced down at the picture. "Is that your family?"

"Yeah." Alex nodded. His hair fell in front of his eyes and he pushed it away. "This is my mom and my dad," he said as he pointed to each one. "And this is me. And this is my dog - Old Man Boris." He rubbed his thumb over the image of the fuzzy terrier. "They found out I was sick and gonna die, so they left me here and went away."

Having been smiling as he spoke of his dog, Thirteen's face went back to being emotionless as he told her about his parents. "I'm sorry to hear that," she commented.

"Hm?" Alex looked up at her.

"I said, I'm sorry to hear that," Thirteen repeated, trying not to look him in the eye.

"They didn't want me." Alex sounded almost confused.

"Yeah, I know." She began to wonder what she had gotten herself into and almost wished House had simply fired her. "I said I'm sorry they didn't want you." There was an awkward silence, but she had a feeling it was one-sided. The boy didn't look at all uncomfortable. "Are you scared of dying?" Right after the words came out, she scolded herself. What kind of question was that? Of course the boy was scared of -.

"No," Alex answered. He shook his head confidently. "I was when I found out. But I'm not anymore. I'm a big boy." He settled back against his pillows and hugged a ratty, old stuffed elephant to his chest. "Why didn't Alexander go from the buildings on his horse? If he was lost, why didn't he go from the buildings - that middle of the buildings on his horse?"

After a moment of confusion, Thirteen shook her head. "First of all, he didn't have a horse 'cause his horse was killed in a battle. And he wasn't in the middle of any old buildings."

Alexander the Great slid off his black horse onto the stone ground beneath them. He patted the animal on the side then watched as it galloped off into the distance. The ruins of the old buildings began to fade and were quickly replaced by a vast desert full of high hills and orange sand. He ran his tongue over his parched lips and looked at the handful of men that were with him. "How much water do we have left?" He straightened his gold-colored, metal armor that covered the top of his chest and turned to the nearest man.

"We have none." The other warrior uncapped his canteen and turned it over. A few drops fell to the ground. The group of men around them began to whisper among themselves in worried tones. Alexander stayed calm and adjusted the red feather on his head piece.

"Look!" One of the warriors a few feet off to the side shouted. When the rest of the man glanced at him, he pointed his finger to someone on a horse. The horse galloped down a large dune of sand, carrying the man toward them. They waited impatiently, suddenly filled with hope that salvation had come.

The man rode up to them until his horse was aligned with Alexander. He made no motion to get off his horse but instead handed his helmet down to the men, carefully trying not to spill the water inside.

Alexander took the helmet and stared at his reflection in the water that it held. He looked back up at the warrior on the horse as the man pulled a letter from his pocket.

"This is the last of our supply," The man stated as he unfolded the piece of paper. He glanced down and scanned the words before beginning to read. "All hope is lost. Our army will not be conquered by the Persians as we once fears. Instead, we will die because of our own greed and gluttony for water. This helmet contains the last of what we have. We trust that your wisdom will save us all." He folded up the paper and looked at the helmet of water.

Alexander glanced at them all then slowly turned the helmet over and let the water run to the ground.

"Why?" Alex interrupted her. He stared at her with wide eyes, clutching his blanket.

"What?" Thirteen glanced up at him. She was leaning forward with her elbows on the bed and her head in her hands.

"Why?" He repeated a bit more slowly.

"Because there wasn't enough for all of them," Thirteen explained.

"Hm?" He shook his head and looked confused.

"Alexander the Great was showing his army they were all equal," she replied, wondering how to get him to understand.

"That's stupid." He let go of his blanket and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

She sighed. "Yeah? Well, what would you have done better?"

"Alexander the Great should have - he should have gived everyone a - just a little bit, Dummy." He lifted his hand and held his fingers to show her how much water Alexander the Great should have given to his army.

"Dummy?" Thirteen mouthed, glancing away from him. She shook her head.

"Yeah, don't be a dummy, Dr. Hadley." Cameron grinned as she leaned against the doorway. "Alexander should have given everybody just a little bit and they all would have had some."

Thirteen's head snapped up and she spun around as Cameron spoke. She rubbed her legs with her hands, wondering how long the other doctor had been standing there listening. Trying to hide a bit of self-consciousness, she slowly turned to face the boy again. "Listen," she said. She lowered her voice to where she hoped Cameron couldn't hear her. "I'll be back tomorrow and I'll tell you a different story. An epic tale of love and revenge. You know what epic means?"

Alex shook his head eagerly. "No."

"It means a really long story," Thirteen explained. "It'll be set in…" She had to pause to think. "It'll take place in India, okay?" When he nodded, she got to her feet then patted his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow." She could feel the kid staring at her as she walked out of the room and past Cameron.

Cameron followed quickly behind her. "This is really nice of you," she commented with a smile. "That was a good story."

"I stole it from a movie," Thirteen replied in a cold voice, trying to make Cameron be a little less happy about what she was doing.

"It was still nice." Her smile didn't fade. "And a good story," she added. She came to a stop, but Thirteen kept walking. "Hey, do you want to get dinner tonight if you're coming back to tell more?"

Butterflies begin to flutter in Thirteen's stomach and she wasn't sure why. She paused and turned her head. "Sorry. I'm not coming back later." She made an obvious forced smile and shook her head then turned and continued walking. The uneasiness in her stomach was an odd feeling and not one she expected to get just from talking to Dr. Cameron. She barely knew the woman. For a moment, she considered taking her up on her offer, but quickly changed her mind.

"Nice of you to grace us with your presence," House commented as Thirteen entered the room and joined the rest of the diagnostic team. "How is your new mission going?"

She shot him a look and took a seat beside Foreman. For a moment, the words 'shut up' almost came from her mouth, but she managed to hold back. "So you're still letting me sit in and listen?"

"It's not like you have anything better to do." House grabbed the whiteboard and pulled it closer to the table. He uncapped a blank dry-erase marker and wrote the words 'LEFT LANE CLOSED' on the top. He began to write words under the heading and repeat them out loud. "Loud. Annoying. 2AM."

"What the hell is this?" Foreman spoke what everyone else was thinking. They all had their heads tilted to the side as they stared in confusion.

"A new band," House replied. "They decided to move in next door to my house. I need to figure out how to get them to shut up."

"How is this medically relevant?" Kutner questioned. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table.

"It isn't. Now shut up and give me some ideas." House tapped the whiteboard and frowned.

Thirteen almost enjoyed the idea of a while without working until she realized how boring it was. Everything she said was immediately shot down by House and contact with any patient what-so-ever was completely out of the question. Yet, she couldn't leave the hospital. Wanting to spend as little time with her new 'mission' as possible, she fell asleep on the couch in the doctor's lounge until her shift was over.

A bowl of cheerios seemed rather disappointing as she thought about how Cameron had asked her to get dinner. Once home, Thirteen grabbed the remote and turned on the TV then sat down with her food. After eating a few bites, she let the spoon in her mouth and hit the channel button on the remote a few times trying to find something that would hold her interest until she was exhausted enough to go to bed. She regretted spending her day fast asleep because now she was positive she wouldn't be tired for the rest of the night.

Propping her feet up on the coffee table, she leaned her head back against the couch and removed the spoon from her mouth. In order to get back to work, she knew she was going to need to prove to House that she wasn't self-destructing. Her hand trembled and her spoon fell from it and into the bowl. Fortunately, she hadn't spilled any of the cereal. Closing her eyes, she let out a breath. "There has to be something interesting in your house to do, Remy," she told herself quietly. "God, now I'm talking to myself." Frowning, she clamped her mouth shut and opened her eyes again. It was useless.

It took maybe twenty minutes for her to put the full bowl of cereal in the sink then put on some clothes that were decent to go out in. A white shirt with a black jacket and matching black dress pants were enough to look trendy but not slutty. It was almost a way to ease her mind and take away the guilt of picking up random women to bring home and have sex with.

"Hey there." The guy behind the counter at the bar grinned as her as she walked in. "Almost didn't expect to see you tonight. It might have thrown off my entire night." His eyes traveled Thirteen's body for a moment. "The usual?"

Thirteen felt distracted and almost didn't realize he was speaking to her as she walked over. "Huh? Oh. Yeah." She pursed her lips together and gave a quick nod. "Anyone interesting here tonight?" By interesting, she meant anyone she might find attractive. The guy had worked there long enough to know the kind of women she tended to go after.

"Right over there." He nodded to another brunette dancing off toward the corner and set Thirteen's drink down on the counter. "You doing okay?"

"Just fine." She picked up her drink and downed it in a few swallows then put the empty glass down, paid, then half walked - half danced over to the other woman. Within a few seconds they were dancing with their bodies pressed against each other.