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Hold On
folder
G through L › House
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
19
Views:
14,512
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › House
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
19
Views:
14,512
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own House, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 2
Step by step, they slowly made their way back to the hospital entrance and around the corner to emergency. Even though the ER was a few more steps, he knew they were more equipped to help her quickly. House, supporting both his own weight and a good part of Cameron’s, took slow, measured steps, carefully bracing his cane so it wouldn’t slip. Mentally, he cataloged her injuries. Head injury. Possible fractured cheekbone. Blood loss, probably from places he didn’t want to think about right now. Frostbitten fingers. Probably frostbitten toes. He knew that walking on frostbitten feet wasn’t a good idea, but neither was leaving her out in the cold longer while he went to get help. He just couldn’t bring himself to walk away from her and leave her lying in the snow, even if it was to bring her help. He felt her leaning on him, and again cursed his leg, wishing he could just pick her up and carry her to safety. He tried not to look at the trail of bloody footprints she left behind them.
When they entered the warmth of the ER, the nurse behind the counter took one look at Cameron’s bruises, bloody stockings, and the trail of blood left behind, picked up the phone and called for a gurney, which arrived a moment later. The orderly tried to stop him at the door with a sharp “Sir, you can’t go in there.”
If looks could kill, the guy would be six feet under. “I’m Doctor House. Head of diagnostics at this hospital. If I want to go back there, I will, and I’d suggest you move. Now.”
The orderly stepped aside, eyes wide. “They took her to exam 6.”
When House entered the exam room, he found that Cameron had been hooked up to a heart monitor and blood ox. His coat was draped over a chair. He snatched the blood ox sensor off her hand and glared at the nurse. “Get me four buckets of warm water. One hundred degrees.”
“But Sir,” the nurse protested “Given the bleeding, we need to do a rape kit. We’ve got to check her fingernails for evidence.”
“She’s a doctor. What the hell is more important? The evidence or saving her fingers?” House snapped, looming over the nurse in his most intimidating posture.
“Fingers. I’ll get the water.” She hurried out the door.
He turned to the other nurse. “Get a rape kit and bring it back here. Then, get me an IV, a bag of warm saline, and morphine.” He looked back to Cameron and began removing the torn nylons, noting that the bleeding had slowed considerably.
“Morphine?”
He whirled back around. “Morphine. Do you have any idea how incredibly painful it is to rewarm frostbitten tissue? She’ll be screaming. She doesn’t need to be awake for it, and she doesn’t need to feel it.”
The nurse dashed out the door and returned a moment later, handing him the rape kit and leaving again quickly.
He opened the box and removed an envelope and a scraper. He quickly scraped under each fingernail, noting the blood under her nails. Probably not hers.
As he finished, the second nurse returned with the IV and requested saline and morphine. She efficiently set up the IV as he sealed and signed the envelope, dropping it back into the kit.
He suddenly found his hand gripped in ice cold fingers. “House? My head feels fuzzy.”
He moved over to her shoulder, not releasing her hand. “We need to warm up your fingers and toes. It’ll hurt, so there’s morphine in your IV. That’s why your head feels funny.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Close your eyes. You said you felt tired. Go to sleep, and this will all be over when you wake up. Okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Mmkay.”
The first nurse returned, pushing a cart with four basins of water, slightly steaming. House stuck his hand in one, checking the temperature, then pulling his hand out and drying it on his pants.
He took her hand and gently set it in the basin, holding her wrist firmly as she tried weakly to pull her arm back. He felt her muscles relax as the morphine completely took over. Quickly, he placed her other hand and her feet into the remaining basins.
The door opened and a doctor about Chase’s age stepped in. “Hello, I’m Doctor Casey--“ His eyes widened as he recognized the tall man with the cane. “Um… Doctor House, it looks like you have everything under control. Can I assist with anything?”
“You can call a GYN.” He looked over at Cameron. “Preferably female. And page Doctor Cuddy to my cell.”
Suddenly, a monitor began to shriek. “Pressure’s dropping!” Casey yanked up her shirt, and he and House both quickly saw the tight, hard abdomen. “Internal bleeding. Ruptured spleen, probably.”
House nodded. “She needs an OR. Now.” The doctor nodded and dashed out the door. House turned to the two nurses, his voice reflecting the urgency of the situation. “You, get me two bags of A positive blood. Move!” He motioned to the second nurse. “And you, page Doctor Cuddy, and call for the gyn consult.” He paused for a moment. "And send someone to get my cell phone from my desk."
House examined her abdomen, his hand tightening on his cane, knuckles white, as he saw five small round bruises on each hip. Finger marks. He took a shaky breath, acknowledging his desire to kill the person responsible for her pain, provided the cops, or better yet, Foreman, didn’t find him first.
The nurses left, and one quickly returned with the blood, which was rapidly hung. He let out a breath in relief as her blood pressure began to rise.
Doctor Casey entered, slightly breathless. “OR 6. Surgeon is Doctor Hill.”
House grunted an approval. “He’s competent. Usually.”
The bags of blood and saline were transferred to poles attached to the gurney, and she was quickly wheeled out of the room. House looked to the nurse. “I want her hands and feet back in warm water as soon as she’s settled in the OR.”
The nurse nodded and left. House followed her out the door, and turned when the desk nurse called his name. She held out a set of scrubs. “We thought you might want to change your clothes.” He looked down at himself and saw that the left side of his shirt and jeans were smeared and spotted with blood. He could go back to his office and change, but that was the other side of the hospital.
Wordlessly, he took the scrubs and limped off to the closest locker room. Inside, he peeled off the cold, bloody clothes and noted that the blood had soaked through to his skin. He stripped off his boxers and stepped into a warm shower, watching the blood turn from red to pale pink as it mixed with the water and slipped down the drain. Confident he was as clean as he was going to get, he turned off the water and snatched a towel from the cabinet. He quickly toweled the moisture off and got into the scrubs, pleased to note that they were warm and soft, instead of the thin, itchy kind that often was found in hospitals.
He looked at his socks and noted the blood splatter marring the white fabric, and bent down, wiped the drops off of his shoes, and put the shoes on sans socks, tossing the bloody clothes into one of the giant Ziplocs kept around for that purpose.
When he left the locker room, the nurse was waiting for him outside. She held out her hand for the bag and handed him his cell phone. “I’ll send this up to your office. Coffee?” He nodded, and found a steaming cup in his hand a moment later. “They’ve just started the surgery on your friend.” He nodded again, and turned away to head down the hall.
Nurses’ voices followed after him.
“Was that Doctor House?”
“Yeah. He was like a mama bear in there, growling and barking orders. Who’s the girl?”
“Doctor Cameron. One of his fellows… or cubs, I guess you could say.”
“How’d he know her blood type?”
“He’s House.”
Normally, House would’ve turned around and snapped, snarked, or otherwise terrorized people daring to speak of him that way. But, for now, there were more important things to attend to.
His cell phone rang in the elevator. “House.” He answered sharply. “Cuddy... Look, something’s happened… Just get down here.” He hung up and headed to the observation room above the OR.
When he arrived, he looked down and saw that the surgeon had completed the incision and was exploring to locate the rupture. He was pleased to note that the nurse had followed his instructions, and Cameron’s hands and feet were once again immersed in warm water.
Through the glass, he could hear the faint, regular beep of the heart monitor and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and closed his eyes, resting his weight on the cane and his forehead on the glass, the cup of coffee forgotten on the table behind him.
When they entered the warmth of the ER, the nurse behind the counter took one look at Cameron’s bruises, bloody stockings, and the trail of blood left behind, picked up the phone and called for a gurney, which arrived a moment later. The orderly tried to stop him at the door with a sharp “Sir, you can’t go in there.”
If looks could kill, the guy would be six feet under. “I’m Doctor House. Head of diagnostics at this hospital. If I want to go back there, I will, and I’d suggest you move. Now.”
The orderly stepped aside, eyes wide. “They took her to exam 6.”
When House entered the exam room, he found that Cameron had been hooked up to a heart monitor and blood ox. His coat was draped over a chair. He snatched the blood ox sensor off her hand and glared at the nurse. “Get me four buckets of warm water. One hundred degrees.”
“But Sir,” the nurse protested “Given the bleeding, we need to do a rape kit. We’ve got to check her fingernails for evidence.”
“She’s a doctor. What the hell is more important? The evidence or saving her fingers?” House snapped, looming over the nurse in his most intimidating posture.
“Fingers. I’ll get the water.” She hurried out the door.
He turned to the other nurse. “Get a rape kit and bring it back here. Then, get me an IV, a bag of warm saline, and morphine.” He looked back to Cameron and began removing the torn nylons, noting that the bleeding had slowed considerably.
“Morphine?”
He whirled back around. “Morphine. Do you have any idea how incredibly painful it is to rewarm frostbitten tissue? She’ll be screaming. She doesn’t need to be awake for it, and she doesn’t need to feel it.”
The nurse dashed out the door and returned a moment later, handing him the rape kit and leaving again quickly.
He opened the box and removed an envelope and a scraper. He quickly scraped under each fingernail, noting the blood under her nails. Probably not hers.
As he finished, the second nurse returned with the IV and requested saline and morphine. She efficiently set up the IV as he sealed and signed the envelope, dropping it back into the kit.
He suddenly found his hand gripped in ice cold fingers. “House? My head feels fuzzy.”
He moved over to her shoulder, not releasing her hand. “We need to warm up your fingers and toes. It’ll hurt, so there’s morphine in your IV. That’s why your head feels funny.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Close your eyes. You said you felt tired. Go to sleep, and this will all be over when you wake up. Okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Mmkay.”
The first nurse returned, pushing a cart with four basins of water, slightly steaming. House stuck his hand in one, checking the temperature, then pulling his hand out and drying it on his pants.
He took her hand and gently set it in the basin, holding her wrist firmly as she tried weakly to pull her arm back. He felt her muscles relax as the morphine completely took over. Quickly, he placed her other hand and her feet into the remaining basins.
The door opened and a doctor about Chase’s age stepped in. “Hello, I’m Doctor Casey--“ His eyes widened as he recognized the tall man with the cane. “Um… Doctor House, it looks like you have everything under control. Can I assist with anything?”
“You can call a GYN.” He looked over at Cameron. “Preferably female. And page Doctor Cuddy to my cell.”
Suddenly, a monitor began to shriek. “Pressure’s dropping!” Casey yanked up her shirt, and he and House both quickly saw the tight, hard abdomen. “Internal bleeding. Ruptured spleen, probably.”
House nodded. “She needs an OR. Now.” The doctor nodded and dashed out the door. House turned to the two nurses, his voice reflecting the urgency of the situation. “You, get me two bags of A positive blood. Move!” He motioned to the second nurse. “And you, page Doctor Cuddy, and call for the gyn consult.” He paused for a moment. "And send someone to get my cell phone from my desk."
House examined her abdomen, his hand tightening on his cane, knuckles white, as he saw five small round bruises on each hip. Finger marks. He took a shaky breath, acknowledging his desire to kill the person responsible for her pain, provided the cops, or better yet, Foreman, didn’t find him first.
The nurses left, and one quickly returned with the blood, which was rapidly hung. He let out a breath in relief as her blood pressure began to rise.
Doctor Casey entered, slightly breathless. “OR 6. Surgeon is Doctor Hill.”
House grunted an approval. “He’s competent. Usually.”
The bags of blood and saline were transferred to poles attached to the gurney, and she was quickly wheeled out of the room. House looked to the nurse. “I want her hands and feet back in warm water as soon as she’s settled in the OR.”
The nurse nodded and left. House followed her out the door, and turned when the desk nurse called his name. She held out a set of scrubs. “We thought you might want to change your clothes.” He looked down at himself and saw that the left side of his shirt and jeans were smeared and spotted with blood. He could go back to his office and change, but that was the other side of the hospital.
Wordlessly, he took the scrubs and limped off to the closest locker room. Inside, he peeled off the cold, bloody clothes and noted that the blood had soaked through to his skin. He stripped off his boxers and stepped into a warm shower, watching the blood turn from red to pale pink as it mixed with the water and slipped down the drain. Confident he was as clean as he was going to get, he turned off the water and snatched a towel from the cabinet. He quickly toweled the moisture off and got into the scrubs, pleased to note that they were warm and soft, instead of the thin, itchy kind that often was found in hospitals.
He looked at his socks and noted the blood splatter marring the white fabric, and bent down, wiped the drops off of his shoes, and put the shoes on sans socks, tossing the bloody clothes into one of the giant Ziplocs kept around for that purpose.
When he left the locker room, the nurse was waiting for him outside. She held out her hand for the bag and handed him his cell phone. “I’ll send this up to your office. Coffee?” He nodded, and found a steaming cup in his hand a moment later. “They’ve just started the surgery on your friend.” He nodded again, and turned away to head down the hall.
Nurses’ voices followed after him.
“Was that Doctor House?”
“Yeah. He was like a mama bear in there, growling and barking orders. Who’s the girl?”
“Doctor Cameron. One of his fellows… or cubs, I guess you could say.”
“How’d he know her blood type?”
“He’s House.”
Normally, House would’ve turned around and snapped, snarked, or otherwise terrorized people daring to speak of him that way. But, for now, there were more important things to attend to.
His cell phone rang in the elevator. “House.” He answered sharply. “Cuddy... Look, something’s happened… Just get down here.” He hung up and headed to the observation room above the OR.
When he arrived, he looked down and saw that the surgeon had completed the incision and was exploring to locate the rupture. He was pleased to note that the nurse had followed his instructions, and Cameron’s hands and feet were once again immersed in warm water.
Through the glass, he could hear the faint, regular beep of the heart monitor and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and closed his eyes, resting his weight on the cane and his forehead on the glass, the cup of coffee forgotten on the table behind him.