Fic House/Cameron: Somewhere to be
The man was dead, an end of an era. Who was he anyway? Someone House was supposed to call father. A formality, really.
He needed to get out. Now.
***
There was one place for him to go and that place was neither quiet nor peaceful The ER. For him, however, it was an obvious choice. Where else? For a year now it was a safe haven where he got away from his routine, from his life.
He had his own chair by the Nurses’ station where nobody bothered him except an occasional walk-in taking him for a fellow patient. Cameron would come by every thirty minutes or so complaining about someone with another rectal bleed or crabs.
He sat down, took a deep breath and observed a bumb who was shaking a vending machine in an effort to get some free snacks. Easy life the guy’s got, no worries, except the immediate future.
“You again?” Cameron reached the desk “You won’t believe a procedure I had to do just now. Removing a bucket off a woman’s ass, impressive right?”
“Uhm”
“House, are you listening? She had to pee on a camping trip, so she sat down on the bucket and got stuck!”
“Moron”
“That’s what I said” Cameron took her eyes off the chart and looked at House who was twirling his cane. “What’s wrong?”
He paused laying his cane on his knees and looked at her, confusion in his face.
“John died”
“Who’s John?”
He turned away and continued to mess with the cane. House looked straight ahead, staring into empty space.
Long pause followed.
“John House?” Cameron asked finally putting the pieces together.
His silence was a confirmation and she really didn’t know what to say. She put patient’s chart into the bin and sat down next to him.
***
Cameron couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t care about House. It seemed she spent a lifetime getting his approval, dealing with his insolence and constantly worrying about him. The latter was like a habit she couldn’t quit. Nothing, absolutely nothing kept her from wondering whether he had reached the point of no return, whether he had pushed his limits too far this time. In the back of her mind, she always checked if there was anything she could do.
They sat there, no words, no movements. Cameron knew House couldn’t care less about his father at that point in time.
“Dr. Cameron, the overdose in two is still waiting for a discharge” a nurse announced from behind the counter.
“I’ll be right there”
There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say, but her heart ached for him and she felt pathetic.
“There is this patient in three. She is an alcoholic, vomited blood in China about a week ago. Now her BP is falling, white count through the roof…”
“Did they operate on her?”
“Yeah, still no progress.”
House nodded.
“I’ll take her”
Cameron was careful to keep her hands on the chair, either side of her legs. She wanted to hold his hand, wanted to squeeze it and tell him it’s ok. He didn’t need it though and she kept on nervously tapping her feet on the floor.
House got up to go to curtain three, not really enthusiastic, but looking busy.
“Hey,” she called and looked into his deep blue eyes when he turned around.
“I bet you’ll get to see Wilson now” she smiled and hoped she didn’t sound too concerned.
“Yeah”
And he kept on walking.
Another piece chipped away. God! She felt like she was watching him self-destruct.
Lifting her hands to the stethoscope around her neck she went back to work.
Maybe they will eventually get there before it’s too late.
He needed to get out. Now.
***
There was one place for him to go and that place was neither quiet nor peaceful The ER. For him, however, it was an obvious choice. Where else? For a year now it was a safe haven where he got away from his routine, from his life.
He had his own chair by the Nurses’ station where nobody bothered him except an occasional walk-in taking him for a fellow patient. Cameron would come by every thirty minutes or so complaining about someone with another rectal bleed or crabs.
He sat down, took a deep breath and observed a bumb who was shaking a vending machine in an effort to get some free snacks. Easy life the guy’s got, no worries, except the immediate future.
“You again?” Cameron reached the desk “You won’t believe a procedure I had to do just now. Removing a bucket off a woman’s ass, impressive right?”
“Uhm”
“House, are you listening? She had to pee on a camping trip, so she sat down on the bucket and got stuck!”
“Moron”
“That’s what I said” Cameron took her eyes off the chart and looked at House who was twirling his cane. “What’s wrong?”
He paused laying his cane on his knees and looked at her, confusion in his face.
“John died”
“Who’s John?”
He turned away and continued to mess with the cane. House looked straight ahead, staring into empty space.
Long pause followed.
“John House?” Cameron asked finally putting the pieces together.
His silence was a confirmation and she really didn’t know what to say. She put patient’s chart into the bin and sat down next to him.
***
Cameron couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t care about House. It seemed she spent a lifetime getting his approval, dealing with his insolence and constantly worrying about him. The latter was like a habit she couldn’t quit. Nothing, absolutely nothing kept her from wondering whether he had reached the point of no return, whether he had pushed his limits too far this time. In the back of her mind, she always checked if there was anything she could do.
They sat there, no words, no movements. Cameron knew House couldn’t care less about his father at that point in time.
“Dr. Cameron, the overdose in two is still waiting for a discharge” a nurse announced from behind the counter.
“I’ll be right there”
There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say, but her heart ached for him and she felt pathetic.
“There is this patient in three. She is an alcoholic, vomited blood in China about a week ago. Now her BP is falling, white count through the roof…”
“Did they operate on her?”
“Yeah, still no progress.”
House nodded.
“I’ll take her”
Cameron was careful to keep her hands on the chair, either side of her legs. She wanted to hold his hand, wanted to squeeze it and tell him it’s ok. He didn’t need it though and she kept on nervously tapping her feet on the floor.
House got up to go to curtain three, not really enthusiastic, but looking busy.
“Hey,” she called and looked into his deep blue eyes when he turned around.
“I bet you’ll get to see Wilson now” she smiled and hoped she didn’t sound too concerned.
“Yeah”
And he kept on walking.
Another piece chipped away. God! She felt like she was watching him self-destruct.
Lifting her hands to the stethoscope around her neck she went back to work.
Maybe they will eventually get there before it’s too late.