House Repairs (Prologue 3/?)
Title: House Repairs
Rating: PG-13 this chapter
Pairing: House/Cameron, House/Cuddy, Chase/Cameron, House/Wilson, all in some capacity
Summary: House is back from Antigua, not all of his own free will and with more than a few problems. Cameron is back, too, and she wants Chase... But when she thinks she can help House out, things may get more complicated than anyone thought.
Prologue 1: Phone Call
Prologue 2: Homecoming
Prologue 3: Matchmaker
Cuddy had been staring at the wall in her office for at least ten minutes; Wilson had been counting.
“Cuddy?” he called again, for the second time, his voice soft and careful and still in a bit of shock as he reached up, cradling his broken right wrist out of habit - to make sure it was still there, maybe. He couldn’t believe the words his boss had told him - House. Leukemia. Antigua?
None of them really made any more sense than the one before it, but Cuddy was dead serious. Was House, though? After all, he’d faked cancer before, so was this just a case of The Boy Who Cried Cancer? Wilson had to be sure.
And then Wilson had run tests - House hadn’t said a word. Not to him, not to Cuddy; he just nodded his assent and he signed forms and he let them run the tests as if they were mechanical objects moving around him instead of people that loved and cared about him and were hurt by him. Wilson considered that maybe House was in as much shock as they were, and at that he was suddenly sure that this was not a prank, this was not a House test or a way to get Cuddy back by making her feel bad for him. This was real, and Wilson was terrified.
Cuddy was just as terrified. Leukemia. House. She could remember calling the police and lifting the restraining order, could remember the disapproving glances Julia had given her when she’d done so, but just barely. House didn’t have his job back at the hospital yet - but then again, she hadn’t quite ever really fired him, either - but now he was a patient. Their patient. She wished he would just speak to her, tell her why he’d been so furious as to destroy her house; but it was so irrelevant in the grand scheme, now.
She hadn’t told her sister why she’d removed the restraining order, and her sister had harped on about how Cuddy had battered woman’s syndrome and she could give her some wonderful hotlines and really Cuddy could do so much better and why did she keep running back to House. It had taken every inch of Cuddy’s resolve to not scream at her, slap her, tear at her with her fingernails in some ridiculous catfight because she hadn’t needed that then, she had needed support but when did Julia ever give that?
At least now, staring at Wilson, she could see her own eyes reflected back at her, the same mix of disbelief and fear and horror.
“I’m not a match,” Wilson said a second later, “Two-of-six…” He bit his lip and ran his left arm up his bandaged wrist again. He couldn’t help but think of House joking about Wilson being the universal donor, with type O blood, and House the universal receiver, with type AB blood. He wished that were true, now. At least he could help House as best he could as his oncologist… But the whole situation just seemed utterly wrong.
Wilson thought of Amber, dying in his arms. That crime that he’d blamed House for, shattered House for.
He thought of House’s words: “If you die, then I’ll be alone.”
House couldn’t die in his arms, too - no, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
***
Chase thought he’d seen a ghost. He’d been heading towards the diagnostics lounge, as Foreman - temporarily heading the department in House’s absence, which he still hadn’t gotten the complete story on - didn’t currently have a case and as such, there was nothing to do. He thought his mind must have been drifting when he saw a blonde bob walk by him, a blonde bob that reminded him of Cameron’s hair color.
Not her hair color when he’d met her, of course - then it had been silky chestnut brown, dark and gentle and soft. Then she’d dyed it blonde, the same color as his but prettier, gentler, pulled back and tamed, almost unattainable.
It must just be someone with a similar… a patient, a…
He felt a hand on his shoulder, one that was almost imperceptible. If he hadn’t been intoned that moment he’d have brushed it off - a patient trying to bug him or even just someone nudging him by accident while walking down the hall.
But he turned, and found himself looking into Cameron’s eyes. His beautiful Cameron, no, wait, his beautiful…
“Allison,” he gasped out, staring down at her. Her smile, wary and a bit nervous, spread across her face.
Cameron wanted to embrace Chase like nothing else she’d ever felt in her life. But she couldn’t risk the rejection. She needed to know he still cared. Behind the shock in his eyes, she saw that he did - but there could still be somebody else. Who else? She felt a flush of jealousness go through her at that. Probably Thirteen - she was gorgeous, younger than Cameron and would probably be more forgiving of what Chase had done.
But that wasn’t the issue, not now. She couldn’t allow herself to be sidetracked by doubts, she needed to speak, now, make her mouth move. But she couldn’t speak, and Chase had to fill the silence again.
“What are you doing here?” His voice went up an octave.
“I came back to see you,” Cameron whispered. “I don’t… I can’t stop thinking about you. I think leaving might… was a mistake. I need you.” Chase swallowed.
“I don’t know about this,” he admitted quietly. “We have to… figure this out. I have to figure this out. This is really… sudden.”
“That’s okay,” Cameron replied, smiling too widely with false cheer and hope, and wanting desperately to change the subject. At least Chase hadn’t walked away. “Do you know what’s going on with House? I ran into Cuddy in the hall and she said…” She paused a moment, then blurted, “that he needs a bone marrow transplant. She got me to go get tested.” Chase tried to figure out which part of that surprised him the most, and he found he couldn’t compute any of it. The only thing he could think of was the next valid medical question.
“Do you match?”
“Four-of-six,” Cameron replied sadly, taking a step back and leaning against the wall. “I don’t know how we’re going to find a match. He doesn’t have any siblings, his father’s deceased so that ship sailed… Maybe his mother could be a match? But she might be too old…” She paused and looked at Chase. “It’s too bad that House doesn’t have any kids, right? They’d be the most likely match.” Cameron paused after saying those words, and she stared at her ex-husband, who looked back at her with confusion. She shook her head, trying to shake the plan that was forming. It was a crazy plan. It would never, never work.
Rating: PG-13 this chapter
Pairing: House/Cameron, House/Cuddy, Chase/Cameron, House/Wilson, all in some capacity
Summary: House is back from Antigua, not all of his own free will and with more than a few problems. Cameron is back, too, and she wants Chase... But when she thinks she can help House out, things may get more complicated than anyone thought.
Prologue 1: Phone Call
Prologue 2: Homecoming
Prologue 3: Matchmaker
Cuddy had been staring at the wall in her office for at least ten minutes; Wilson had been counting.
“Cuddy?” he called again, for the second time, his voice soft and careful and still in a bit of shock as he reached up, cradling his broken right wrist out of habit - to make sure it was still there, maybe. He couldn’t believe the words his boss had told him - House. Leukemia. Antigua?
None of them really made any more sense than the one before it, but Cuddy was dead serious. Was House, though? After all, he’d faked cancer before, so was this just a case of The Boy Who Cried Cancer? Wilson had to be sure.
And then Wilson had run tests - House hadn’t said a word. Not to him, not to Cuddy; he just nodded his assent and he signed forms and he let them run the tests as if they were mechanical objects moving around him instead of people that loved and cared about him and were hurt by him. Wilson considered that maybe House was in as much shock as they were, and at that he was suddenly sure that this was not a prank, this was not a House test or a way to get Cuddy back by making her feel bad for him. This was real, and Wilson was terrified.
Cuddy was just as terrified. Leukemia. House. She could remember calling the police and lifting the restraining order, could remember the disapproving glances Julia had given her when she’d done so, but just barely. House didn’t have his job back at the hospital yet - but then again, she hadn’t quite ever really fired him, either - but now he was a patient. Their patient. She wished he would just speak to her, tell her why he’d been so furious as to destroy her house; but it was so irrelevant in the grand scheme, now.
She hadn’t told her sister why she’d removed the restraining order, and her sister had harped on about how Cuddy had battered woman’s syndrome and she could give her some wonderful hotlines and really Cuddy could do so much better and why did she keep running back to House. It had taken every inch of Cuddy’s resolve to not scream at her, slap her, tear at her with her fingernails in some ridiculous catfight because she hadn’t needed that then, she had needed support but when did Julia ever give that?
At least now, staring at Wilson, she could see her own eyes reflected back at her, the same mix of disbelief and fear and horror.
“I’m not a match,” Wilson said a second later, “Two-of-six…” He bit his lip and ran his left arm up his bandaged wrist again. He couldn’t help but think of House joking about Wilson being the universal donor, with type O blood, and House the universal receiver, with type AB blood. He wished that were true, now. At least he could help House as best he could as his oncologist… But the whole situation just seemed utterly wrong.
Wilson thought of Amber, dying in his arms. That crime that he’d blamed House for, shattered House for.
He thought of House’s words: “If you die, then I’ll be alone.”
House couldn’t die in his arms, too - no, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
***
Chase thought he’d seen a ghost. He’d been heading towards the diagnostics lounge, as Foreman - temporarily heading the department in House’s absence, which he still hadn’t gotten the complete story on - didn’t currently have a case and as such, there was nothing to do. He thought his mind must have been drifting when he saw a blonde bob walk by him, a blonde bob that reminded him of Cameron’s hair color.
Not her hair color when he’d met her, of course - then it had been silky chestnut brown, dark and gentle and soft. Then she’d dyed it blonde, the same color as his but prettier, gentler, pulled back and tamed, almost unattainable.
It must just be someone with a similar… a patient, a…
He felt a hand on his shoulder, one that was almost imperceptible. If he hadn’t been intoned that moment he’d have brushed it off - a patient trying to bug him or even just someone nudging him by accident while walking down the hall.
But he turned, and found himself looking into Cameron’s eyes. His beautiful Cameron, no, wait, his beautiful…
“Allison,” he gasped out, staring down at her. Her smile, wary and a bit nervous, spread across her face.
Cameron wanted to embrace Chase like nothing else she’d ever felt in her life. But she couldn’t risk the rejection. She needed to know he still cared. Behind the shock in his eyes, she saw that he did - but there could still be somebody else. Who else? She felt a flush of jealousness go through her at that. Probably Thirteen - she was gorgeous, younger than Cameron and would probably be more forgiving of what Chase had done.
But that wasn’t the issue, not now. She couldn’t allow herself to be sidetracked by doubts, she needed to speak, now, make her mouth move. But she couldn’t speak, and Chase had to fill the silence again.
“What are you doing here?” His voice went up an octave.
“I came back to see you,” Cameron whispered. “I don’t… I can’t stop thinking about you. I think leaving might… was a mistake. I need you.” Chase swallowed.
“I don’t know about this,” he admitted quietly. “We have to… figure this out. I have to figure this out. This is really… sudden.”
“That’s okay,” Cameron replied, smiling too widely with false cheer and hope, and wanting desperately to change the subject. At least Chase hadn’t walked away. “Do you know what’s going on with House? I ran into Cuddy in the hall and she said…” She paused a moment, then blurted, “that he needs a bone marrow transplant. She got me to go get tested.” Chase tried to figure out which part of that surprised him the most, and he found he couldn’t compute any of it. The only thing he could think of was the next valid medical question.
“Do you match?”
“Four-of-six,” Cameron replied sadly, taking a step back and leaning against the wall. “I don’t know how we’re going to find a match. He doesn’t have any siblings, his father’s deceased so that ship sailed… Maybe his mother could be a match? But she might be too old…” She paused and looked at Chase. “It’s too bad that House doesn’t have any kids, right? They’d be the most likely match.” Cameron paused after saying those words, and she stared at her ex-husband, who looked back at her with confusion. She shook her head, trying to shake the plan that was forming. It was a crazy plan. It would never, never work.