(no subject)
Ok, so here is part 2 of Reality's Nightmare. After a completely pointless walk to the library (it was closed...I wanted to get books:( ) and a rewriting of a couple parts, here it is! FINALLY!!!!
Title: Reality's Nightmare, Part 2/?
Author: Janelle (
blue_crystal_9)
Pairing: House/Cameron
Rating: PG 13, at least. Probably going to be a little higher in the next parts.
Summary: A man kidnappes Cameron in order to attract House's attention to his medical problems. Obviously, it works, and the team has only four days to solve the man's case or Cameron will be killed.
Spoilers: Control
Disclaimer: I really wish I did own House, but unfortunetly, I don't. All I own is the season 1 DVD's. Obviously, David Shore and FOX have much better luck then I have. Siiiiiigh.
Author's Notes: Yeah, this is definitely going to be longer than I thought it would. Meh. I don't really know how I feel about this part...I'm not really sure if I like how I wrote it. I don't think I wrote House snarky enough. Hopefully I'll like part 3 better. : )
Beta: Three cheers for
kellyannie, who was my beta! You're awesome! *hugs* :D
Reality’s Nightmare: Part Two/ ?
House was irritated. No, he was more than irritated; he was fucking pissed off. Cameron hadn’t shown up to the hospital, and she had been called two hours before. She should have been here an hour and a half ago. Foreman had tried her cell and home phone numerous times, but there had been no answer. They’d gone through the differential diagnosis without her, and started the patient on some medication. And Cameron still hadn’t shown up.
There were only three possible reasons that House could think of that would explain why she wasn’t here. The first was she had been too lazy to get her ass up out of bed and come to work, and had fallen back to sleep and was not answering. The thought angered him, but it was unlikely that Cameron had done something like that. She was usually here at least fifteen minutes before him, making coffee and fluttering around, answering his mail and cleaning up the office. But when he came in, there was no Cameron, no freshly brewed coffee, and his mail was teetering in a dangerously high pile in his mail box.
Another reason she wasn’t here could be that she had been with a guy when Foreman had called her. The thought of this made House clench his jaw slightly, but he pushed the thought away. That was also not something Cameron would do. She would’ve put any person issues behind her and come in to do her job.
The only other thing he could think of to explain why she wasn’t there was that her car had broken down or she had been in an accident. Or she had been kidnaped by some maniac who had escaped from the psych ward. But this was Princeton, New Jersey; that type of thing barely happened here. And if her car had broken down or she had been in an accident, he would have heard by now.
So that basically left him with nothing. House was pissed. And maybe just a teensy bit worried. But it wasn’t like he was going to admit that.
Foreman came into his office then. "I called her house and her cell phone again, and I paged her twice. There still wasn’t an answer, so Chase is gone to check her apartment."
"When she gets here, tell her she’s doing five of my clinic hours for punishment." House responded. He actually might get something good out of this. Five hours free of clinic duty was just fine with him.
Foreman just nodded and exited House’s office. House sighed and twirled his cane in his hand, a worried frown crossing his face.
*********
Half and hour later, Chase and Foreman entered House’s office, and House immediately noticed one of his fellows was still missing and closed his GameBoy. He looked at Chase quizzically.
"I went to her apartment and knocked, and no one answered. The door was unlocked, so I went inside to check it out. No one was there, and her keys and cell phone weren’t anywhere to be seen. Her car was still outside the building, and I found that really odd at first. But then I figured that maybe her car wouldn’t start and she had to take a taxi." Chase shrugged, "Perhaps that’s why she’s late."
House’s frown deepened, "The door was unlocked?"
Chase just blinked. "Yeah. So?"
"Don’t you think that’s a little weird?"
"Yeah, if she lived in a bad neighborhood. But she lives in one of the safest parts of the city, and plenty of people keep their doors unlocked." Foreman said.
"I’m sure you know all about that Foreman." House said gruffly, causing Foreman to scowl darkly at him. "Cameron is definitely one of those people who lock their door even if they’re just going down to the corner store. Something isn’t right."
Foreman thought about House’s statement, then sighed deeply. "I agree with House." Chase looked slightly annoyed, but nodded his agreement after a moment of thought.
"Give her another hour. If we don’t hear from her by then, then we’re calling the police." House limped off in the direction of his office and sat in his chair. He twirled his cane with one hand, thinking.
"They like you. Everyone likes you." He’d only told her that because she had looked so distraught. He’d also felt a bit bad about the fact that she’d thought no one liked her. He just wanted to prove to her otherwise so she’d get the wounded puppy dog look off her face.
"Do you? I have to know." She sounded so desperate, so longing. There was hope in her eyes. And he crushed that hope with one single word.
"No." House made his face carefully blank. There was no way he was telling her the truth. Besides, he didn’t want to lead her on even further. As her face fell, disappointment and sadness etched its way across it.
"Okay." Cameron said quietly before turning and walking away, shoulders hunched as though there was a fifty pound burden laid on her back.
As he watched her walk away, a single thought flashed across his mind.
‘Everybody lies’.
He remembered that night had ended up being one of those nights where he had taken a handful of vicodin and drank until he passed out.
Of course he liked her. In fact, he liked her a hell of a lot. But there was no chance in heaven or hell that he’d tell her. Or Wilson. Or anyone else on the freaking planet. Besides, he had a feeling Wilson already knew that little fact.
House passed a hand tiredly over his eyes. If he told her that he liked her, the inevitable would happen: they would start dating, and eventually become involved in a relationship together. And for maybe a month or two, everything would be perfect. But then he’d say something stupid or extremely mean and end up showing her how much of an angry, misanthropic, son of a bitch he really was. Then she’d be so hurt that she’d leave him and he’d be alone with his vicodin and his scotch and his piano once again.
It was easier to push her away and out of his life. That way, he wouldn’t have to be brought into the nasty business of feeling happy for a little while only to end up dropping back down into the dumps again. It was much easier to pretend that he had no feelings for her than it was to put his heart on the line once again. Because that was what also scared him, as much as he hated to admit it; the fact that she could hurt him too. Just like Stacy had.
Tiring of his thoughts, House flipped on his iPod. He began to relax as music filled the room.
I hear you calling and it's needles and pins,
I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name.
Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin,
I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous poison.
You're poison running through my veins.
You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains.
Poison.
One look could kill,
My pain, your thrill.
I want to love you but I better not touch,
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop.
I want to kiss you but I want it too much,
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison.
You're poison running through my veins,
You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains-
House abruptly hit the power button and the music shut off instantly. He’d had enough of Alice Cooper for the moment. He wasn’t in the mood for him right now.
Suddenly, his cell phone began to ring. Snatching it up, he looked at the caller ID. Allison Cameron flashed across the screen. He flicked it open, feeling the anger surge through him again. "You better have a damn good reason for why you’re two hours late," he growled into the phone.
A cruel, cold laugh answered him.
House blinked. Okay...that didn’t sound like Cameron. He double checked the ID. Her name was still on the screen. If this was some guy she was pimping who was using her cell phone, she was so going to be fired in the morning.
"Who the hell is this?" House asked roughly.
"Surely you remember me, Dr. House? We met earlier today."
House just blinked again, still completely surprised and desperately trying to recall who the fuck he was talking to.
"Let me refresh your memory. In the clinic yesterday, I approached you and you rudely brushed me off before I could even give my reason for being there."
Oh yeah...He remembered the guy now. "This doesn’t explain why you’re using Dr. Cameron’s phone," House said, finally regaining his voice.
The man chuckled. Or rather, cackled, in House’s opinion. "Oh, but it does, Doctor House."
House was quickly getting annoyed with the strange man’s charade. It was four in the fucking morning, for Christ’s sake.
"Okay, how ‘bout you tell me why you’re using Dr. Cameron’s cell, and then we can continue this delightful but completely useless chat?" House said sarcastically.
"Oh, Dr. Cameron’s right here." The man sounded amused.
"WHAT?!?" House yelled.
"In fact, she’s all tied up at the moment."
A sinking feeling appeared in the pit of House’s stomach. He desperately hoped that the man wasn’t using that phrase literally.
"Well, since Dr. Cameron is right there, why don’t you hand the phone over to her so I can yell at her for being two hours late. Or you could tell her yourself to get her ass down here-" House snarked, but the man interrupted.
"I’m sorry, I can’t do that Dr. House. She’s a little immunocompromised at the moment."
"And the reason for that is?" House asked irritably. Despite the amount of sarcasm in his voice, he was starting to feel more worried about Cameron.
"You still don’t understand, do you?" The stranger sounded even more amused now. "I thought you were smarter than that, Dr. House."
"Well, please, enlighten me." House said through gritted teeth.
"Dr Cameron is presently lying on the floor across from me; she is bound, gagged and incapacitated. I believe she’ll have quite the headache when she wakes up."
House felt as though an iron fist had closed around his throat, blocking out his air. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but found he’d lost all sense of speech.
"Now, here is the deal. There is a medical file sitting in your top right-hand desk drawer. That is my file. Go ahead and check and see if it’s there."
House opened up his drawer and sure enough, there was a thick file sitting there with the name "Michael Weathers" written on it.
"Is your name Michael Weathers?" House asked, completely weirded out by this chain of events.
You could hear Mr. Weather’s smirk over the phone. "Yes, that’s right. That file contains every test result, every x-ray, every symptom I’ve gotten in the last three months. Underneath the file, there is a plastic bag with three vials of blood, some hair samples, and a q-tip with my saliva on it. I assumed that you’d need it for testing." All of the things Mr. Weather had mentioned were underneath he file.
"Why are you doing this? If you’re trying to get attention, this is an awful shitty way of doing it. Why don’t you just go and stand on the edge of a 20th floor balcony like any other normal crazy person?"
The man chuckled again. "Always with the witty sarcasm Dr. House. It’ll do you in eventually. I am doing this because I’ve tried countless times to bring your attention to my case. But you continued to ignore me, and yesterday afternoon was the last straw. I had to bring matters into my own hands."
It was way too early in the morning for this conversation. House growled, "I don’t see how this has anything to do with Dr. Cameron. Why should I believe that you even have her? This could be just some sort of prank that you wanted to play in order to get revenge on me because I didn’t take your case."
"Alright, I’ll prove it, just to satisfy your needs." There was a brief shuffling and then the man said, "Look at the screen on your cell phone."
Reluctantly, House pulled the cell phone from his ear and looked at it. His eyes bulged out at what he saw.
The picture was dark, but not dark enough to be unintelligible. It was a picture of someone with their hands bound by rope behind their back, and their feet were also crossed and bound. He had to zoom in on the face to make out who it was. And that someone was Allison Cameron. Her face was pale and drawn, and her eyes were closed. It was impossible to tell from the picture if she was hurt. Or worse, dead. Instantly, he panicked.
"What the fuck are you doing to her?!" House yelled into the phone.
"Oh, don’t worry, I haven’t done anything to her yet. She’s still alive. For now."
"Why should I believe you?" House replied angrily, trying to not let the fear show in is voice.
"Well, why don’t I tell you what you have to do to keep your Dr. Cameron safe? First of all, you need to look at my file with the other two of your doctors. Figure out what I have. I’ll give you four days to do this."
"Why should I do anything you say?" House questioned. "I don’t follow the orders of anyone but my myself."
"Oh, but you will this time. If you do not solve my case, Dr. Cameron will be killed. And if you get the police involved, she will also be killed. And not quickly either. You will have until five AM Monday morning. If you do not do as I as, Dr. Cameron will experience a living nightmare. The ball is in your court now, Dr. House. I’ll be checking in soon." The phone line went dead.
House just stared at the phone in his hand, the picture of the unconscious Cameron still on his display. A loose auburn curl was lying across her cheek, and her skin had a freakishly pale tint to it. She looked dead already. He remembered what he’d been thinking earlier, about how her car might have crashed or she’d been kidnaped by a manic. It was scary how close he was to the truth so much of the time.
Oh Fuck.
From that moment, the race against time began.
*********
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