Chapter Text
"So?"
House persists as he limps after the Dean, sure that she stalks the halls at an increased pace simply to irk him. He decides not to let a little touch of what he presumes to be premenstrual irritability deter him and barks after her loudly; arguing his case to the back of her head. When he reaches the point where he suggests a really rather controversial use of the hospital's most advanced MRI machine, he finally receives her full, undivided attention and she turns around to face him; brow creased, and a notepad filled with blue scrawl flapping in her hand.
"House, I'm not even going to bother answering that last question. If you want to do the rest of the tests— fine. Get consent - legal consent - and ask one of your team to help you, but quit pestering me. I have far too much to do without having to babysit you."
Before House can fire back, a loud crash echoes down the hall. The ER doors slam open, bringing with them a wave of shouting and panicked movement. Frowning with an exhausted sigh, Cuddy hurries over to find the cause of all the noise with House following along behind her for the simple reason that it will allow him another five minutes away from his patient who seems hellbent on converting him to the Church of Jehovah.
By the time they reach the ER, hoarse yelling has been replaced by a choked growl as a man in his late thirties lies sprawled on the floor beneath a grey-clad security officer. His rage-reddened face is spattered with a spray of scarlet, and his eyes speak of a state long past simple inebriation. A panic-stricken nurse huddles in the corner, her face paper white, standing beside a slim blonde who pats her reassuringly on the arm.
Spotting his ex-employee, House makes his way over to find out what's happened with his brow furrowing apprehensively when his attention falls to a quick-blooming rose decorating the young doctor's hip. He's halfway across the room when the nurse clues in on her colleague's injury also and begins hollering for aid.
"We need some help over here! We need-"
"-Stop that. Go get your hand seen to, your finger's bleeding... Cameron."
House greets, and the blonde looks up at him in surprise. He feels that old familiar- but not wholly unpleasant - twinge as her eyes light up with his arrival, and he reaches out to touch her waist.
"Um?"
Regarding the greying doctor curiously, it isn't until Cameron follows the direction of his gaze that she notes the blood soaking through the side of her scrubs. Eyes widening, she simply mutters
"Oh..."
Returning his attention to pale features with a frown, House finds the blonde's lack of reaction to her injury rather disconcerting.
"You can't feel that?"
"I-... I can now, I just-... It just all happened so quickly, and I-..."
At first, he thinks Cameron's simply trailing off - her tone almost mistakable for disinterest - but then he recognises the glassy cast to her gaze and tightens his grip on her waist; pulling her so that she leans into him as a precaution.
"Hey, come on now. No fainting in the workplace, doctor. Look alive, please."
He warns, and the blonde offers him a small grin; her pallor contrasting alarmingly with her expression. Looking up to find Cuddy watching him with a worried frown, House tilts his head pointedly towards one of the examination rooms.
"Page Taub or Hadley. Tell them to do the tests requested for your patient."
The Dean calls over, nodding in agreement with something the security guard tells her. House nods distractedly and ushers Cameron towards the door while taking in the way she leans into him with each alternate step with mounting concern.
"Lie down."
House's voice is stern as he offloads the blonde so that she perches on the paper-covered examination table, but his expression is pensive rather than hard.
"I'm sure it's just a nick, you know how scalpels can-"
"-Get naked and let's see, before we jump to any conclusions, Dr Cameron."
He interrupts firmly, and she rolls her eyes - her face a little too pale to pull the gesture off as well as she'd like - and lies back gingerly, her mind still racing with the events leading up to her current predicament and thus allowing her to escape some of the awkwardness inevitable between them.
Despite his sarcastic request, it's House who pulls up the pink material of her scrubs; his eyes steely as he fixes on the damning scarlet blemish staining the thin white cotton of her top. Pushing the ruined fabric out of the way, he focuses his attention on the deep incision marring the blonde's hip, although he will later tell Wilson that his interest had been primarily in the green flash of lace peeking out above her scrubs.
Pulling over a stool, he leans his cane against the hard leather of the bed and reaches for a pair of gloves and a handful of antiseptic wipes. He doesn't bother telling the blonde it will sting - she knows - but he does offer her a warning glance before pressing a wipe to bloodied flesh; his eyes flashing at the choked hiss she lets out through clenched teeth.
"So, what happened?"
He asks as he cleans the wound carefully.
"I don't even know, really... The guy was brought in about an hour ago with a head injury. As you probably saw, he wasn't exactly in the most coherent state, so it was the usual, you know, big talk, crass words, mild insults, and the promise of a good, uh, 'seeing to'."
"A good seeing to?"
House raises a brow, and the blonde blushes uncomfortably.
"Don't make me spell it out for you... Anyway, none of this is anything new. I mean, it gets past about ten o'clock and most of the drop-offs we get are the same."
"And you claim you don't miss working for me."
"I don't miss you."
"That's not what I said..."
"Yeah, well... If you recall, while working for you I was almost strangled. Not to mention, I was pulled through a pane of glass and-"
"-Ah, but that was entirely your fault! I recall your little stunt, Dr Cameron, just as I recall the reason Shamu found himself pulling the young princess through a sheet of glass had an awful lot to do with the fact that she'd deemed it a brilliant idea to drug him."
"You get my point."
"Okay, so, Crazypants in there was busy sweet-talking you into a quickie in the janitor's closet. Then what?"
"I don't know. Nancy got upset about some of the stuff he was saying and told him to stop it."
"Nancy's Miss I'm-a-nurse-but-I-can't-stand-the-sight-of-blood?"
"She's a good nurse, she's probably just not used to some guy jumping up and trying to wrestle her onto a bed."
"Whereas you-"
"-Whereas I worked for you for three years; nothing will surprise me... I'd been trying to get some pieces of broken glass out of a wound above his eyebrow, so I'd pulled a cart over. I kept telling him to pipe down, and he was just being an asshole; laughing because he kept goosing me."
The blonde rolls her eyes, and House smirks as he imagines she's inwardly muttering 'men'.
"In the end, I had to put the tweezers down because he was moving around so much. After that, I don't know. I'd turned around for just a second, and he was up. He grabbed Nancy, so I tried to pull him off of her, and he must've grabbed a scalpel off of the tray. At least, I presume so; it was all really quick... I pulled him off of Nancy, and we both ended up on the floor. I saw that there was blood, and I felt a sharp pain in my side, but then everyone was yelling, and Nancy was screaming, and then Dick pulled him off of me and-... Never a dull moment around here, I guess."
Cameron sighs, and House nods, taking in everything she says without averting his attention from the cut to her side. The incision is deep - deeper than she realises, he imagines, although he supposes it would be typical of Cameron to brush off her own pain despite being grossly overly sympathetic when faced with another's - and he applies a small amount of pressure to the laceration; ugly and dark now that he's cleaned the surrounding flesh.
"Well, I don't think he's nicked anything vital to your survival, but stay put while I thread a needle."
He advises, pulling over a cart.
"That's okay, I can patch it up. You should be getting back to-"
"-If you so much as think about sitting up, I will push you right back down again, Cameron... Don't make me force you into bed."
House warns sternly.
"Seriously, it's fine!"
"You see, this is why I don't like training doctors; they complete their fellowship and they think they know better than everyone else."
"I never said-"
"-Just trust me, Cameron."
"... I do."
Nodding, House reaches for a syringe and prepares a local anaesthetic, but the blonde shakes her head, looking up at him from the table with her hair fanning out beneath her.
"Don't use that. I'm still on the clock for the next three hours, and I can't work if I can't-"
She yelps as House raises a brow while proceeding to pierce her flesh, and she sighs when he depresses the plunger.
"-Walk..."
She finishes irritably.
"Oh well. "
"House..."
Shrugging, he gives her a wry smile as he removes a suture needle from its packaging; cool blue regarding narrowed green smugly. He gives the broken flesh above her hipbone one final swipe with antiseptic before leaning over and getting to work.
Cameron studies the ceiling with the occasional wince; surprised by how long House takes to complete his task. Lifting her head in an attempt to peer down at the area of concern, she sighs when he immediately tells her to lie still.
"Patience, Cameron. Just enjoy the fact that I'm working so close to the area that makes you scream."
He teases gruffly.
"I do not!"
"Moan, then. I wouldn't know, we never got that far."
"Oh, shut up."
The blonde hisses, and House grins; Cameron's grumbling pleasantly familiar and the tense pull to her lips not quite so painful to watch out of the corner of his eye as she engages in their old back and forth. He snips the surgical thread deftly once he's finished and rolls his eyes when the blonde mutters 'Finally!'.
She sits up to inspect the damage and raises a brow but remains silent. They both know that she's pondering the time he's taken to finish his task and that the reason behind it is the meticulous care taken with each suture; his stitching uncharacteristically neat, thus reducing the amount of potential scarring.
"... Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
House shakes his head, ignoring the blonde's attempt to offer him a smile.
"Did you drive?"
"Huh?"
"To work - sit down, I'm not helping you back up if you fall - did you drive?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I don't think it's the best plan to have you driving back... I'll take you home when I get off the clock. You'll just have to leave your car here."
"You don't have to-"
"-I know that, and don't be getting any ideas, either. I just don't want to be on the road at the same time as a woman with no feeling in one leg."
"Oh. Well... Thanks."
"Don't thank me, I'm just looking out for my own interests."
"Fine... Do you think you could grab me my file of paperwork if I'm going to be stuck here for a while? I'll use this as an opportunity to get some of that done."
"Absolutely not. You have a chance to relax, and I would consider myself a terrible role model should you be unable to take it."
House rejects the blonde's request disapprovingly. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out his Gameboy and thrusts it onto her lap.
"Here. Beat my best score and I'll buy you dinner."