Craziest Episode Of House, EVER – 2
“Ow! Ow!! OW!!! Oh, my God! I must be DYING!” Dick Solomon yelled as he was wheeled in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital on the stretcher from the ambulance.
“You’re not dying,” Cameron tried to say calmly. “It’s just a broken leg, so if you–”
“Oh, how would you know I’m not dying?! Are you a doctor? You don’t even have one of those impressive white coats that all GOOD doctors do! You’re just in animal print T-shirts and-and-and expensive sweat pants and SNEAKERS!” Dick yelled. “I demand to see a real doctor and I’m not leaving till I do!” In emphasis, he slammed his fist down. Unfortunately, it was onto the thigh of his broken leg. He let out another wail and then fainted.
Cameron sighed. “Well, at least he’s quiet now.” She told the team to set and cast the bone and then get him into a bed they could bring up to the diagnostics floor.
“Diagnostics? But why? We know his leg is broken,” one tech pointed out.
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Cameron said as she turned away. She smiled briefly, thinking this was perfect for House. One, the guy said he wanted a ‘real’ doctor, two, House would find his attitude and melodramatic tendencies interesting, and three . . . Well, those same melodramatic tendencies would torture House. And after his and Cameron’s last meeting, Cameron felt he deserved a little torture.
* * * * *
“Okay . . . 13 and Foreman, go talk to this guy, find out why Cameron thinks I’d find him so ‘interesting,’” House ordered.
“Why don’t you go talk to him, then?” Foreman asked.
House gave an indignant look. “Well, that would defeat my plan of never interacting with a patient that Cameron has recommended to me.Be like the Nike commercial. Just do it.” He turned and caned out of the room. Foreman followed him after exchanging a few quick words with 13.
“What the Hell happened between you and Cameron, House? You’ve been avoiding her for over a week and it’s gotta stop,” Foreman said as he caught up to his boss.
“What avoiding her? She doesn’t work for me anymore, she doesn’t even work on the same floor as me, so there’s no feasible reason for us to run into one another.”
“Yeah, but now you’re taking whatever’s up between you and extending it to patients. Cameron said this guy’s really upset, and–”
“And because of that, you think I’m the perfect guy to calm him down, right?” House interrupted sarcastically.
Foreman sighed. “No, but I think you should stop avoiding a patient because of who sent him to you.”
“Yeah. Right. I’ll consider that.”
Sighing again, Foreman stopped walking and just watched House continue down the hallway.
* * * * *
When House knew Foreman was out of sight, he ducked into an elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. He made his way out onto the roof and shivered briefly at the brisk December air. He hadn’t been out here in a long while. Not since Stacy was her, if memory served. He exhaled deeply, puffing his cheeks slightly as he did. Stacy. God in Heaven, what a mess that relationship had made of him. He couldn’t even look at another female without being reminded of her. Hell, after everything she did, he didn’t want to look at another female in that light.
It was such a paradox. He truly believed everything he said concerning the opposite sex, relationships, and caring about others and the cold, calculated facts of each. Yet at the same time, he knew exactly how full of sh*t every one of those opinions was. It was a delicate balance. One he was determined to keep balanced at all costs, no matter who or how much someone tried to tip the scales in favor of caring. He refused to become attached to someone again. His heart couldn’t take it. Not again. Never again.
That was why Cameron’s announcement had come as such a shock.
Back when he’d first worked with her, he had to admit Wilson was largely right. He’d had feelings for Cameron. Why else would he have cared how he looked, why else would he have been nervous when she’d cornered him into that date? He’d gotten her a corsage, for Christ’s sake!
What destroyed any feelings he could have developed for her, though, was when he told her he thought she was interested in him only because he was “damaged goods.” He deliberately said that, to bait her in return. If she jumped to the defense and told him that wasn’t the case, how she liked him for who he was, there could have been a second date, and then who knows? Perhaps history as he knew it could have been altered. But she didn’t. She stayed silent, her fingertips fidgeting around anything they could; the silverware, her hair, the nails on her other hand. And so House lost any interest in her because her silence told him he was right. He was damaged, she liked fixing people, therefore she liked him.
Not a good basis for a relationship.
That was why he was glad to find out she and Chase had become involved and gotten engaged. She had someone new to focus on, since despite what she claimed to everyone, he could see she wasn’t over him when she was still single.
But then, after their case with the deformed kid with Lyme’s disease, Cameron had come to his apartment.
“Cameron? What are you doing here?”
“I’m off the clock and I needed to speak with you. Can I come in?”
He limped back, but tripped over the hem of too-long pajama pants and, without the assistance of his cane, felt himself starting to fall. Cameron reached out, grabbed his arm, and helped him regain his balance.
“Do you want to lean on me?” she asked, her fingertips still lightly grazing the inside of his elbow.
House swallowed, trying to make awake-ness come to his limbs. “No, I’m fine. What do you want?”
“I–” She paused, looking at the floor. “I wanted to speak with you.”
He limped over to the couch and sat down, gesturing that she could do the same. “So speak.”
Cameron went to the ottoman in front of the chair and sat on it. “House, the film crew that was making the documentary about that boy . . . They asked what I thought of you.”
“And you’ve come to admit you said you hated me?” he asked in a fake, whiny, ‘little boy’ voice.
Cameron closed her eyes in a way that made House think she was in pain. “No. Actually, I . . . I said I loved you.”
He looked at her in such a way that she felt the need
to backpedal and explain, just as she’d tried on the video. “W-what I mean is, I love working with you. Loved. For you. It just slipped out as loving you, and even though I– Well, I thought that . . . I . . .” She glanced at him and finally exclaimed, “Say something!”
“What am I supposed to say? You’re engaged to another man, yet you come here, wanting to tell me . . . what exactly? That you still have feelings for me, or that you don’t, but you’re hoping that’ll spark some interest in me?”
She looked into his eyes, blatant emotional pain shining through her tears. “We’re not engaged anymore. I broke it off.”
That surprised House. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he answered sincerely.
She nodded, then stood up. “I should go. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Cameron,” he called when she was about to exit his door. She turned and looked at him. “Am I still just damaged goods to you?”
A tear escaped down her cheek as she answered, “The only one you’re damaged goods to is yourself, House.”