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Thicker Than Water, Chapter Three
by ParisWriter
Author's Note: House and Co. = Not mine; Me = Sad about this. But I'm coping. Be nice, don't sue.
Chapter Three
Cameron, Foreman, and Chase stood together outside House's office, looking in through the glass doors they watched as he sat in contemplation. The only movement was the occasional tapping on his cane on the floor. His back was to them as he stared out the windows, but the blinds were closed.
"Someone should talk to him," Cameron said, breaking the silence.
"About what?" asked Foreman. "How he plans to treat his dying kid?"
"Maybe she doesn't have to die," Chase suggested. "Maybe he's in there thinking up some radical procedure to save her life."
Cameron shook her head. "The kidney disease is too advanced. There's not much we can do for her right now."
"Has anyone told her about her condition?" Foreman asked. Cameron and Chase both looked away from him, their silence filling in the gap where the answer should have been provided.
"I can't take this any more," Cameron stated after another moment of uncomfortable silence had passedamong the three of them. Ignoring the protest of her fellows, she opened the door and walked into House's office.
He didn't turn around or make a sound. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. She took a few more tentative steps across the room until she was standing at his desk. For several minutes they stayed like that, her standing there and him sitting and tapping his cane.
"I'm sorry," she finally whispered, though it sounded almost like yelling in the stillness of the room.
"Sorry for what?" House replied. "You didn't make her sick."
"Neither did you."
House finally turned around and stared up at her, not saying a word. He hoped the glare would be enough to scare her away, but instead he ended up being the first one to break eye contact.
"She's too young for this," he insisted.
"How old--"
"She's twenty-five. Or is it twenty-six now?"
"Any family history of--"
"None... that I know of, at least"
"You know, I would at least appreciate it if--"
"I'd let you finish asking your questions before answering them?"
"Yes!" Cameron exclaimed in exasperation. She continued to glare at House for another minute or two before sitting down in a chair opposite him.
"Is there any way to know what caused it, if it's not hereditary?" she asked him.
"There's dozens of possible reasons she could have developed this."
"Any of them look any better than the others?" Foreman asked as he and Chase finally entered, standing behind Cameron
"I'll know after I ask her a few questions," House replied as he stood up and made his way toward the door.
"How are you going to ask her anything?" Chase wondered. "She's so doped up she can barely stay awake, let alone answer questions. You're going to have to contact her family."
House stopped short, his hand holding to door open a few inches. "I have no idea how to get in touch with her mother."
"You could always check her cell phone," Foreman suggested. "Chicks usually have their parents on speed dial." Cameron gave him a dirty look, which made him smile.
"Great. Chase, you go through her purse and find her phone," House ordered. "Once you've found it, get mommy's number and call to tell her what's going on."
"But why don't--"
"Just do it."
The three of them watched House leave, wondering where he was heading to sulk this time.
"Can't we just get the number off her registration form from the clinic?" Chase asked, turning to the others.
"It`s not on there," Cameron answered. "I already checked. She listed House as her emergency contact."
"Why would she list her father, who she apparently hasn't seen in two decades, as her emergency contact?"
"Maybe her mom doesn't know what's going on?" Foreman guessed.
"That`s always a possibility," Cameron insisted, looking at Chase. Foreman shifted his gaze to him, too. Chase simply looked at them for a moment before finally giving in.
"Right. I'll go rifle through her personal belongings and see if I can't come up with a phone number."
"You didn't have any problem going through that executive's belongings so you could rat out House to Vogler," Foreman pointed out.
"That was an entirely different set of circumstances," Chase argued.
"Guys!" Cameron exclaimed, stepping between them and placing a hand on each of their chests. "A young woman's life in on the line here. This is not the time to be arguing."
Chase looked down at Cameron and sighed deeply, then turned and stormed out of the room returning to Rachel's room on the first floor.
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"So, what did you find out?" House asked as he stepped into the room where his daughter had been, only to find her missing.
"Where is she?" he asked, his voice slightly panicked.
"Relax," Chase assured him. "I just had her moved upstairs to the ICU so I can keep a close watch on her at all times. If anything changes - for the better or worse - we'll know right away."
"Why are you being so nice about all of this?" House questioned him, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the younger doctor. "You poisoned her, didn't you? You're just waiting for her to keel over so you can give me the bad news personally."
"No," Chase stated firmly. "Unlike you, I try not to hold a grudge."
"Did you find the information we needed?" House was tempted to argue that Chase had held a pretty strong grudge toward his own father, but felt it might be best if they changed the subject before they started yelling and throwing things at one another like an old married couple.
"Yes." Chase nodded. "I found the phone, called her mother, and informed her that Rachel has been admitted and will be in the ICU."
"Did you tell her the condition?"
"Didn't get a chance," he told him, shaking his head slightly. "As soon as she heard the words `admitted' and `ICU' she said she would be on the next flight out and hung up."
"Oh joy," House grumbled. "Nothing like seeing the ex-wife to make my day even better"
"She doesn't have to know--"
"She already knows I work here. She's the one who sent Rachel to me."
"Oh."
The single syllable hung on the air for several minutes as nothing but silence passed between the two of them. Things had been increasingly awkward after Chase's short time as Vogler's informant. First, House had attempted to make his life increasingly frustrating by assigning him menial tasks like research. He also increased the amount of insults and barbs he threw in Chase's direction, but despite all of the torture, Chase refused to buckle and leave, and House refused to fire him.
"Do you want me to talk to her when she gets here?" Chase offered.
"No, I'll do it."
Chase opened his mouth to ask if he was sure he really wanted to be the one to question his ex-wife, but House abruptly turned and walked out of the room, heading in the direction of the elevator.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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