Hold On

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Three days later, Foreman slams into House’s office with all the force of a hurricane.

“Doctor Foreman, if you have something to say, spit it out. Otherwise, go away.” House calmly looked up from his latest case file.

“She’s been asking for you.”

House sighed. “I’m well aware of that.” He knew. Wilson had told him. So had Cuddy and Chase.

Foreman rested his hands on the desk and loomed over House. “So go see her.”

House shrugged. “I don’t want to.” Don’t want to walk into the lioness’s den was closer to the truth. Although Cameron could hardly qualify as a lioness, the only thing waiting for him in her den would be darkness and sharp teeth. If he went in there, he’d either be screamed at for sending her outside in the first place, or thanked profusely for finding her in that sickly sweet way that Cameron had about her. Compared to Cameron, cotton candy could be bitter. He didn’t think he could take her screaming, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve her thanks.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to. Cameron wants to see you, and I’m here about what she wants. I don’t give a damn what you want.” Foreman spat out. House had always known that Foreman could be intimidating. That was part of the reason House had hired him, after all. However, this was the first time House had experienced Foreman’s intimidation ability firsthand, and grudgingly acknowledged that the man was very good at it.

House shrugged. Even though Foreman’s intimidation tactics were working, that didn’t mean he had to let Foreman know this.

“If you don’t get your ass down there to see her in the next hour, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you down there. I have no clue why she needs to see you, but if she needs it, I’m going to make sure she gets it.” Foreman crossed his arms, glaring at House.

“Fine.” House sighed. Judging by the look Foreman was shooting him, he actually intended to follow through on his threat. “I’ll go see her.”

Foreman nodded and left quickly.

Shaking his head, House picked up his cane. Seeing Cameron could not possibly do either of them any good. However, being fireman carried through the hospital by one of his subordinates would probably be worse. At least, he figured that whatever the hell Cameron was planning on doing to him wouldn’t be nearly so public.

He was wrong.

******

By the time he got to Cameron’s room, he’d been hearing the screams all the way down the hall. He burst into the room, demanding “What the hell is going on here?”

Two nurses, one armed with a needle, the other with a handful of four-point restraints, froze as they bent over Cameron, who was shaking in a fetal position in the corner. “She’s freaking out. She was hysterical. We couldn’t get her vitals.”

House fixed his best death-glare at the man with the needle. “I was unaware that ‘freaking out’ was proper medical terminology.” He motioned towards the door. “Get away from her.”

“Doctor, she’s dangerous…” The female nurse protested.

“She’s not dangerous. She’s fucking scared out of her mind. Can’t you people see that?” House growled as he approached Cameron. The nurses backed off to the far side of the room.

House painfully bent down on one knee, bracing his right arm on his cane. “Cameron?” She was still shaking in the corner, the thin hospital gown offering little protection. “Cameron? It’s Doctor House. Can you hear me? Allison?”

A shake, a whimper, and then a green eye peeked out at him from behind her hands. “Allison.” He tried again, reaching his hand out to gently touch her face. “Allison, it’s House. Do you know where you are?” A shiver was her only response. “You’re still in the hospital. You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to happen to you here. I promise.” His hand made gentle contact with her cheek, tilting her head up to look at him. “Look at me. I promise. Nothing will hurt you. I won’t let it.”

Blue eyes met tearful green, and he watched as she began to focus slightly. “House?”

He shifted his hand, the back of his fingers gently touching her cheek, grounding her. “Right here.”

She took a deep breath, really seeing him for the first time, and began to cry, leaning towards his hand that was gently resting on her cheek. He brushed his hand over her face, realizing that these tears were different. They weren’t tears of fear or hysteria. They were tears of relief. Deep, racking, cleansing sobs. He looked up towards the ceiling, searching for some kind of answer. Physical pain was something he knew how to fix, but he freely admitted to himself that he had absolutely no clue what to do with this kind of emotional anguish.

He felt her tears run down over his palm, dripping on his jeans. He braced his shoulder on the wall and extended his right leg straight, dropping to sit by her on the floor. He reached an arm around her shoulder slowly, asking softly “is this okay?”

She nodded, burying her face in his neck as he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close. Never in his life had he felt so utterly helpless, clueless about what he should do, how he should handle this. Crying women were not something House had vast experience with. Actually, House didn’t have any experience at all, and it isn’t like there’s a book in the medical library titled “How do deal with hysterical females” so research was right out.

Gradually, her sobs quieted, probably more out of exhaustion than anything else. “Cameron? Is it okay if one of the nurses helps you back to bed?”

She shook her head violently, hands fisting in his t-shirt. “Okay then. I’m going to stand up, and then I’m going to help you up. Okay?” A slight nod of assent. He motioned with his eyes to the nurses still looking in the doorway, holding out an arm. After sitting that way for so long, there was no way he was getting up on his own. The male nurse helped him to his feet and then rapidly retreated to the relative safety of the doorway.

House stretched out his hand to Cameron. “Up?” She tentatively reached out to him with her fingers, and he was reminded of a time five days ago when she had made precisely the same motion, reaching for him cautiously.

His hand grasped hers, and he gently helped her to her feet, supporting her as best he could as he guided her back to her bed. She dropped to the mattress weakly, and he noticed small traces of blood soaking through her gown. “Cameron, I need to check your stitches. You might have torn a few.” She didn’t reply, and he tipped her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “Is that okay?” She nodded faintly, her eyes sliding closed.

He gently covered her with the sheet, and then moved the sheet and gown so he saw the stitches and no more. She had torn three. Retrieving anesthetic and a suture kit, he talked to her constantly as he worked, letting her know exactly what he was doing before he did it, not wanting to startle her. He expertly fixed the stitches and covered her back up with the blankets. “All done.” The back of his hand gently brushed her cheek, causing her to open her eyes. “Okay?”

She nodded, still slightly shaking, although he wasn’t sure whether it was from cold, exhaustion, or adrenaline. Cold he could fix, and he grabbed another blanket from the foot of the bed, covering her with it. She nodded her thanks, and he brushed her cheek with his hand once more. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She nodded. “Sleep.” Her eyes slid shut.

As he turned toward the door, House felt all his earlier anger welling up inside him. He stormed towards the door and cornered the two nurses by their station. “What the hell was going on there? What did you do to her?”

“No idea. I’d just picked up her wrist to adjust the blood ox, and she woke up and just went crazy.” The male nurse indicated the bruise rapidly appearing on his cheek.

“You walked into the room of a rape victim, stood over her while you grabbed her wrist, and you wonder why she, as you so delicately put it ‘freaked out’ when you woke her up out of a dead sleep?”

The nurse looked down and stammered something unintelligible. “Well, I didn’t think -“

“That’s right. You didn’t think! And because you didn’t think, she tore her stitches, and you almost shot her up with whatever the hell was in that syringe while your friend here tried to tie her up!” House exploded. “What the hell was in that?”

“Just droperidol.” The nurse stammered.

“Just droperidol?” House could swear that he literally saw red creeping in around the edges of his vision. “Just droperidol? Are you aware of the side effects? The potential heart complications?”

“We just use it when patients freak out like that!” The nurse protested weakly.

House spun around to confront the head nurse, who had just wandered through the doors into the blast zone. “I never want those two in Doctor Cameron’s room again. And if she gets upset, you do not restrain her. You call myself, Doctor Cuddy, or Doctor Foreman, in that order. Am I perfectly clear?”

The head nurse simply nodded. “Yes, doctor. I’ll see to it.”

House nodded in return. “See that you do.” He stormed out, absently noting that the hospital’s automatic doors made dramatic exits far more difficult.