Hold On

Morning found House collapsed in a chair by her bedside. When she’d been wheeled out of surgery and into recovery, he’d breathed a sigh of relief. When she was settled in the ICU, he’d found himself sitting next to her, watching her vitals cautiously for any sign of trouble. Although they wouldn’t know yet if there would be any permanent damage from the frostbite, when he clasped her hand in his own, he was thankful to find her warm and her fingers pink. Sometime during the night, he’d fallen into a fitful sleep.

“House?”

He jumped awake as Wilson entered. “Wilson.”

“Cuddy told me. How is she?” Wilson picked up her chart and opened it.

“She’s a hell of a lot better than she was yesterday. She’s lucky she didn’t lose her spleen.” He tilted his head at the chart. “What’s it say?” He really wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer to that, especially not after his reaction to her injuries last night.

Wilson looked up in confusion. “You haven’t read it?”

House looked down and shook his head. It was annoying enough to have trouble looking Cuddy in the eye. Wilson was worse. Guilt was not a feeling he was used to. A lack of eye contact made intimidating glares difficult.

“So what happened?” Wilson began to scan the chart, and looked up when House didn’t answer immediately.

“She had a headache. I sent her home. Three hours later, I’m walking to my car, and find her in the snow in the parking lot.” House said, as emotionless as if he were rattling off a grocery list. He watched Wilson skim the chart.

“Will she be okay?” Wilson asked, snapping the chart shut and looking slightly green. House guessed by his reaction to whatever was in the file that he was already aware of her physical condition and was therefore asking about her emotional state.

House shrugged. “Who the hell knows. I gave her morphine during the frostbite treatment, so she may not remember anything. Or everything.” From what he’d seen outside and in the OR, he sincerely hoped that the morphine had blurred the details for her at least slightly.

“She was awake when you found her?”

“As awake as someone half frozen with a moderate concussion can be. She wasn’t making much sense.” He looked down. “Kept talking about somebody taking her shoes.”

Wilson looked up sharply. “Shoes?”

House nodded. “She was out there barefoot.”

“Have you been reading the papers?”

“No.”

Wilson turned away and looked out through the glass into the hallway. “There’s been some psycho who’s been going around rap-” He tripped over the word. “assaulting women. Steals their shoes as some kind of trophy. I think the last two ended up dead.”

House’s grip on Cameron’s hand tightened, his breath catching in his throat as he realized for the first time how bad this really could have been. “I sent her out there.”

“Huh?” Wilson looked up at him blankly.

“I sent her out there. She had a headache. Wanted to stay at work, but looked miserable. I made her leave. She didn’t want to leave.” His eyes closed tightly and he focused on the faint beeping of the heart monitor, a steady reminder that, as bad as this was, it could’ve been worse. “If I hadn’t sent her away, this wouldn’t have happened. This is my fault.”

“How in the world is this your fault? You saved her life. She’d be dead if you hadn’t found her.”

“She’d be perfectly fine if I hadn’t sent her out there to begin with.”

Wilson shook his head. “You couldn’t have known.” He pulled a pill bottle out of his coat pocket and placed two familiar white pills on the tray to House’s right. “Figured you haven’t been home. Probably need those.”

House looked over at the pills in surprise. “Just give me the bottle.”

Wilson shook his head. “I’m keeping it for now.”

“Wilson, give me the damn bottle.” House growled, holding out his hand impatiently.

Wilson pocketed the bottle. “I’ll be back around lunchtime to check on her. Call me if anything changes. I’ll let the guys know what’s going on.”

House made a last, halfhearted grab for Wilson’s pocket and sighed in frustration as Wilson stepped out of reach. “Fine. But they don’t need to know details.”

Wilson nodded and motioned to the file, holding it out. “Keep them away from that. It isn’t a pleasant read. If you can contain your curiosity, keep yourself away too.”

“I know enough.” House accepted the file and tossed it onto the table.

“I’m sure the guys will be down here in a few minutes.” After he finished speaking, he left, poking his head back in a moment later. “Page me if anything changes, or if you need anything.”

Acknowledging the offer with a curt nod, he turned back to Cameron, her small hand still held tightly in his larger one, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand.

****

Moments, or maybe hours later, Chase and Foreman rushed into the room, spouting one question after another.

“How is she?”

“What happened?”

“You found her?”

“Is that her file?”

“Is she okay?”

House held up a hand in a rather feeble attempt to shut them up. “You know, if you actually want a question answered, it generally requires shutting up at some point.”

Their mouths snapped closed, and he wasn’t sure if it was a real desire for answers or surprise at the lack of venom contained in his response. He felt drained, like every drop of energy he had somehow dripped off him and soaked into the floor.

“She’s stable now. Obviously still unconscious. She was outside. I brought her in to the ER with frostbite and bleeding. Her pressure dropped. She had a small rupture in her spleen. The bleeding had been slowed by the cold, and got worse quickly when she warmed up. The surgeon repaired her spleen. She’s also got two cracked ribs. There probably won’t be any damage from the frostbite, but we won’t be sure for a few days.” He saw Chase open his mouth and preemptively answered his next question. “I don’t know how much she’ll remember. I gave her morphine for the frostbite.”

Foreman nodded in approval. “Good. I had frostbite when I was a kid. My mother shoved my feet into a warm bath. It’s the most painful thing I remember.”

House nodded. Foreman reached across the bed towards the chart, eyes widening when House’s vice-like grip closed around his wrist. “Leave it.” He growled, pleased to see Foreman back off. If she wanted them to see her chart, she could give it to them herself, later, when she woke up. Her privacy had been invaded enough. Too much.

“Doctor House?” House raised an eyebrow at Chase’s uncharacteristically formal address.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if you know, but Cameron just bought a house a few miles from here.” Chase stumbled over his words, but somehow managed to get them all out in an order that made sense. “She’s supposed to be out of her apartment by Sunday. She’s got everything boxed up; we were supposed to help her move it all tomorrow.”

Foreman picked up where Chase left off. “We were wondering, do you think she’d mind if we took care of it for her?” He glanced over at the monitors. “She’s obviously not leaving here today. Don’t want her worrying about overstaying her lease and all that.”

House looked at him curiously. “What are you asking me for?” Did they think he somehow had an ‘in’ to the inner workings of Cameron’s brain? After the last two days, he’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.

“You probably know her as well as anybody around here.” Foreman shrugged.

“As long as you stay out of anything personal, I don’t think she’ll mind. It’ll be one less thing for her to worry about.” He thought about it for a moment. “But go ask Cuddy. She gets the whole ‘female’ thing.”

Chase nodded. “Will do. Provided Cuddy okays it, we’ll be at her place at 9 am.”

“Don’t you two have something you should be doing? Like, perhaps, work?” House watched them look at each other, and then at Cameron. “I will page you if anything changes.”

They left, hesitantly glancing back at Cameron and the monitors on their way out the door.

House looked down and realized that he had yet to release Cameron’s hand. He was surprised and oddly disturbed to discover that he didn’t want to.