Hold On
folder
G through L › House
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
19
Views:
14,513
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
G through L › House
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
19
Views:
14,513
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 3
House wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there. “House?” Cuddy’s concerned voice entered the room a half second before she did.
“What?” He didn’t move.
“I read the file. How’s she doing?” Cuddy moved to stand next to him, gazing down into the OR.
“Breathing. Heart beating. Vitals now within acceptable parameters.” He straightened up and turned toward her, noting the worry evident on her face.
“How are you doing?”
“Aren’t you asking the wrong person?” He leaned back in surprise. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”
“Because, from what I heard, you found your colleague, your friend, lying bleeding in a snow bank and watched her come close to coding in the ER.” Cuddy crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously.
He turned away from her, his forearm on the glass, unable to meet her gaze, and furious with himself for it. He clenched his hands into fists, hoping she wouldn’t notice their slight tremor.
“Why did you page me?” She took a step closer as she spoke.
He shrugged. “Worker’s comp?”
“Since when do you follow procedure?” She replied, glancing down into the OR.
House’s eyes followed hers. “Looks like he’s found the bleed.”
“So what happened?”
He continued to avoid meeting her eyes. “You read the file.”
“Yes. The file that told me her medical condition. It didn’t tell me what happened to her, how, and why she was out there for so long in the first place.” Cuddy snapped.
House whirled to look at her, eyes burning with fury. Cuddy's eyes widened, and she took a few steps back, breath catching in her throat. He stepped forward, narrowing the distance between them, his eyes locked with hers. His voice was a low growl. “She was out there because I sent her out there.”
“What?!” Confusion flashed across Cuddy’s face.
“You heard me.” He turned back to the window. “Get out.”
“House, this wasn’t -“ She started.
He didn’t look at her. “Get. Out. Now.” He was relieved when he heard her heels tapping toward the door.
He watched as the surgeon corrected the bleed, and was relieved to note that it was relatively minor. The issue hadn’t been a major bleed out, just a minor one that was left untreated far too long.
He watched the doctor close the wound, noting that the stitches were very neat. The scar wouldn’t be any worse than necessary. The man moved away, and a woman stepped into his place. He realized this must be the GYN he’d had the nurse send for. Absently, House noted that he wouldn’t have even known she was female, except she was wearing purple glasses. A surgical nurse began to adjust the drape, and another began to gently move Cameron’s legs apart. A table was brought up containing speculums, small items he couldn’t see from this distance, and the rape kit box he’d opened earlier.
The doctor adjusted the camera and monitor while the nurse adjusted Cameron’s position on the table. The surgical drape concealed her face from the doctor, but House could see her clearly, and watched while the nurse shifted Cameron over slightly, causing her long hair to tumble over the edge of the table. He glanced back at the monitor and got his first good look at the extent of her injuries. Her thighs were caked with blood, both dried and fresh, and there was a white, flaky substance streaked across her skin. Semen.
House felt his stomach turn and his fist clenched in frustration. He was a doctor, damn it. He’d seen injuries like this before. This wasn’t new, wasn’t different. There was no reason for him to react like this. The rolling in his stomach wouldn’t settle, and he looked away from the monitor and back to her face, and saw the difference. This time, it was personal. This time it was Cameron. He felt his gut churn a final time, turned away and emptied the contents of his stomach into the trashcan.
When the retching finally stopped after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes in reality, he sat weakly on the bench, resisting the urge to look back down into the OR. What was happening in there was deeply personal, and he knew she probably wouldn’t want him watching, and he would respect that. Enough violation had taken place today.
His hands were shaking again, and he clinically assessed that the adrenaline rush from the situation was beginning to wear off. He rested his hands on the handle of his cane in front of him, fatigue slamming into him like a runaway train. His leg was aching again, the familiar throbbing comforting in a strange way, providing him with something to focus on besides what was happening in the room below. His forehead slowly lowered to rest on his hands as he took a shaky breath, listening to the faint beeping of the heart monitor downstairs.
“What?” He didn’t move.
“I read the file. How’s she doing?” Cuddy moved to stand next to him, gazing down into the OR.
“Breathing. Heart beating. Vitals now within acceptable parameters.” He straightened up and turned toward her, noting the worry evident on her face.
“How are you doing?”
“Aren’t you asking the wrong person?” He leaned back in surprise. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”
“Because, from what I heard, you found your colleague, your friend, lying bleeding in a snow bank and watched her come close to coding in the ER.” Cuddy crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously.
He turned away from her, his forearm on the glass, unable to meet her gaze, and furious with himself for it. He clenched his hands into fists, hoping she wouldn’t notice their slight tremor.
“Why did you page me?” She took a step closer as she spoke.
He shrugged. “Worker’s comp?”
“Since when do you follow procedure?” She replied, glancing down into the OR.
House’s eyes followed hers. “Looks like he’s found the bleed.”
“So what happened?”
He continued to avoid meeting her eyes. “You read the file.”
“Yes. The file that told me her medical condition. It didn’t tell me what happened to her, how, and why she was out there for so long in the first place.” Cuddy snapped.
House whirled to look at her, eyes burning with fury. Cuddy's eyes widened, and she took a few steps back, breath catching in her throat. He stepped forward, narrowing the distance between them, his eyes locked with hers. His voice was a low growl. “She was out there because I sent her out there.”
“What?!” Confusion flashed across Cuddy’s face.
“You heard me.” He turned back to the window. “Get out.”
“House, this wasn’t -“ She started.
He didn’t look at her. “Get. Out. Now.” He was relieved when he heard her heels tapping toward the door.
He watched as the surgeon corrected the bleed, and was relieved to note that it was relatively minor. The issue hadn’t been a major bleed out, just a minor one that was left untreated far too long.
He watched the doctor close the wound, noting that the stitches were very neat. The scar wouldn’t be any worse than necessary. The man moved away, and a woman stepped into his place. He realized this must be the GYN he’d had the nurse send for. Absently, House noted that he wouldn’t have even known she was female, except she was wearing purple glasses. A surgical nurse began to adjust the drape, and another began to gently move Cameron’s legs apart. A table was brought up containing speculums, small items he couldn’t see from this distance, and the rape kit box he’d opened earlier.
The doctor adjusted the camera and monitor while the nurse adjusted Cameron’s position on the table. The surgical drape concealed her face from the doctor, but House could see her clearly, and watched while the nurse shifted Cameron over slightly, causing her long hair to tumble over the edge of the table. He glanced back at the monitor and got his first good look at the extent of her injuries. Her thighs were caked with blood, both dried and fresh, and there was a white, flaky substance streaked across her skin. Semen.
House felt his stomach turn and his fist clenched in frustration. He was a doctor, damn it. He’d seen injuries like this before. This wasn’t new, wasn’t different. There was no reason for him to react like this. The rolling in his stomach wouldn’t settle, and he looked away from the monitor and back to her face, and saw the difference. This time, it was personal. This time it was Cameron. He felt his gut churn a final time, turned away and emptied the contents of his stomach into the trashcan.
When the retching finally stopped after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes in reality, he sat weakly on the bench, resisting the urge to look back down into the OR. What was happening in there was deeply personal, and he knew she probably wouldn’t want him watching, and he would respect that. Enough violation had taken place today.
His hands were shaking again, and he clinically assessed that the adrenaline rush from the situation was beginning to wear off. He rested his hands on the handle of his cane in front of him, fatigue slamming into him like a runaway train. His leg was aching again, the familiar throbbing comforting in a strange way, providing him with something to focus on besides what was happening in the room below. His forehead slowly lowered to rest on his hands as he took a shaky breath, listening to the faint beeping of the heart monitor downstairs.