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  Part 5 - Learning To Fly 
 by mysterrious  

 PRAYER FOR A MIRACLE PART 5 ~ Learning To Fly

"Above the planet on a wing and a prayer, My grubby halo, a vapour trail
in the empty air, Across the clouds I see my shadow fly Out of the corner
of my watering eye A dream unthreatened by the morning light Could blow
this soul right through the roof of the night There's no sensation to
compare with this Suspended animation, A state of bliss Can't keep my mind
from the circling skies Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound
misfit, I"

"Learning To Fly" ~ Pink Floyd

On her knees on the cliff in front of him he watched as she rocked back
and forth like a child. For the first time he noticed that she was holding
what appeared to be a large silver pitcher; 'no, not a pitcher....an urn!'
he gasped in realization. Then he remembered that he had left her with the
solemn task of disposing of his ashes. "House damn you, why?!" Cameron
sobbed and cried out in both grief and anger. 'Why indeed' he thought to
himself. What was he thinking giving her this task. He should have had
Wilson do it or even Chase but not her. She opened the jar and dipped her
fingers into his remains. A tingle went through him, it was as if he could
feel her touch. The breeze picked up and began taking bits of him away in
different directions. With one last loud cry she turned the recepticle
over and watched helplessly as all that was left of her boss was taken to
the heavens. House could feel the wind swirling inside of him; he WAS the
wind now. At least for a brief moment anyway. What a wonderful feeling! 

"I am here Allison," he cried out in his mind with a force he never knew
he possessed. For just one split second she seemed to stop as if listening
to him, as if she could feel his presence. She reached a hand up and he
felt her fingers graze his cheek with what must have been sheer luck (or
was it?) He could feel her fingers! He marveled at the fact that he could
feel her as he reached out his own hand to touch her as well. He watched
as he passed right through her features; her strong jaw and smooth cheeks.
Closing his eyes he pretended to be able to feel her soft lips with the
ball of his thrumb as it grazed them. 

"Allison" just uttering her name was enough to send chills through him.
__________________________________________________________________________
___________________________

Cont.

"Allison," he said in almost a whisper "please stay with me tonight. I'll
be a good boy, I promise." He didn't want to be alone tonight, not
tonight. 

She took each tentative step towards the bed. How could she deny him now
and truly, did she really want to? She stood next to the what seemed like
an almost impossibly small single bed and watched as he scooted over a bit
to give her some space. Flinging back the cover he patted the empty space
gently with his hand in an invitation. She hesitated for only a moment
before crawling fully clothed into bed with him. "Here," he said
stretching out his arm at a right angle to his body, "put your head on my
shoulder." "Like his obedient student she did as she was told, laying the
palm of her right hand on his chest. His heart was beating wildly, his
breathing erratic. But then again, hers was too. He was sweating but shook
with chills as he tossed and turned to get comfortable all the while
holding on to her. 

"Do you want me to get you another blanket?" she asked. A look of panic
crossed his face, "No don't leave this spot OK?" He seemed like a little
boy but his voice still commanded her like always so she stayed. And then
they began talking. They talked about his past, the pain in his leg and in
his heart. She told him about her past and her romance with a teacher in
med school which made him smile. She bravely asked him if he had ever
loved anyone else but Stacey and without hesitation while looking into her
eyes he said 'yes.' He didn't have to say anything more than that. He gave
more to her that night than she could ever have hoped for; he let her pass
through a door that he had kept tightly shut to everyone who ever touched
his life. When they finally exhausted all conversation she touched his
face gently, every fingertip filled with an all encompassing love. He
smiled, lifted her hand from his face and kissed each digit. Then he
placed it against his chest and held it there. 

"Till the last time it beats it's yours, you know." It was a statement and
not a question that he murmured against her lips with his. The kiss was
delicate and hungry but the hunger was from a appetite that couldn't be
filled. She knew this and understood that this was enough. HIs lips were
hot and parched, his tongue testing and probing. She pulled away suddenly,
knowing that for both of them this was torturous. Her eyes filled with
tears which he kissed away as she cradled her head back onto his shoulder
again. Little did they know that they had set in motion a fate that would
very literally come back to haunt them both. But, for now at least they
relaxed. This time they could sleep. 

The sun was just beginning to appear over the tops of the NYC skyline when
she awoke with a start. Something was wrong. She sensed it deep inside of
her. At first she was disoriented but then remembered last night and the
reason for her what should have been awkward position. His shoulder was
cold, for that matter so was the rest of him. Then she understood what was
bothering her: his heart had stopped. Her hand that had laid over him all
night could feel nothing moving beneath it. Now she understood why he
needed her to stay. Now she realized their first kiss was his kiss
goodbye. 

"Greg!", she found her voice and began shaking him as she kept repeating
his name. Then her training kicked in and she leaped for the phone,
dialing 911. Screw his wish for a DNR (do not resuscitate) order. "2756
Hudson St." she gasped, "I need an ambulance NOW." Leaving the phone off
the hook she moved back over House and began CPR. "Come on....come on..."
she found herself saying out loud as she began compressions to his heart.
Alternating between pressing all her weight into his chest and filling his
lungs with her breath was exhausting her but she knew she couldn't stop.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder why she was
doing this; why should she try to bring him back from a fate that he would
be doomed to repeat all too soon. But her instincts and deep need for him
kept her going. Putting her waif like fingers against his neck she thought
that she felt the faint flickering of life within him so she continued.
What was only about 10 minutes seemed to drag on for hours before the
EMT's burst into the room and took over. "He's so cold..." she murmured to
herself as the tech's strapped leads onto him. "CLEAR!" She saw his chest
rise violently with the shock they administered. He seemed reluctant to
return from wherever it was that he disappeared to though because they had
to repeat the procedure more than once. Then suddenly his heart began to
beat again, although it's tempo was eratic. She lay her head on his chest
and could hear it's fragile thumps. And as the paramedics whisked him away
she knew it wouldn't be long before her own heart would be
breaking....again.

He lay in the hospital bed disoriented and scared. All he could remember
was feeling Cameron's breath on his shoulder and then boom...he was here.
They told him his heart had stopped and that they had to resuscitate him
more than once. If that was true then why didn't he see any 'white light'
or long gone friends and family while he was 'away'? Isn't that what was
supposed to happen? Did this mean that he was right all along and there
really was nothing beyond this existence at all? His eyes scanned the
room, noting the heart monitor which revealed way too few peaks and
valleys for a normal heart. The next thing he noticed, and all too
painfully was that he couldn't breathe very well. His lungs felt like they
were filled with lead and it took way too much effort to make them work.
'I'm suffocating' he thought to himself as a huge wave of sheer panic
gripped him by the throat. Where was everyone? He made a mental effort to
reach for the button that would summon the nurse but found that his
muscles wouldn't cooperate. He was paralyzed. His body was now truly a
shell and not a very good one either. He tried to yell out but there was
only the faintest whistle of air that escaped from him. 'I don't want to
die alone' was the prevailing thought in the midst of the terror,
"someone....please....be here...'

Cameron sat exhausted in a chair outside of his room, trying to catch her
own breath. The makeup that she so carefully applied that morning ran in
streaks down her face but she didn't care. She made no attempt to wipe
away the remants of the night before. She touched her lips with her
fingers. His lips had been there, been against hers. The thought should
have brought a smile to her face but it was a bittersweet memory. To think
that she will never know the depth of his passion or that he will never
know her's. She longed to feel his hands and his mouth on her, his body
moving against hers and filling her with fire. 'Stop it' she told herself,
''this is a dying man you are fantasizing about!'" But he was more than
that to her now, much more. 'You ok Cameron?' a familiar voice broke
through her thoughts. It was Dr. Wilson. She looked up at him and thought
she saw a hint of redness in his eyes. Had he been crying too? "I don't
know" she said earnestly, "I really don't know. And you?" She felt a
kinship with him, they both shared the same emptiness. "Been better." he
answered too quickly. He couldn't hide the depth of his despair either. He
sighed and just shook his head. "I wish he had come to me sooner with
this," he said, almost to himself, "maybe I could have done something
more...." Cameron stood up and clasped his hands in hers, "there was
nothing you or anyone else could have done to stop this. Inside you know
this." she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him gently. He held
her back, both of them wanting to break down but neither of them willing
to let it show. "How long has it been since you've eaten?" he asked her,
now holding her at arms length. "Food? What's that?" her attempt at
lightening the mood failed miserably. She didn't want food or anything
else for that matter. All she really wanted was to go back to last night.
To be able to repeat it over and over again so that it would never end up
as just a memory. That was what she longed for. Would give anything for.
"Why don't we take a break and go to the cafeteria?" he put one arm around
her shoulder interrupting her train of thought and began to lead her down
the hall and away from House's room. They got to the end of the corridor
when suddenly she froze. She stopped so fast that it almost threw Wilson
off balance. Cameron felt an uneasiness that she couldn't explain.
Suddenly her heart began to race and her breath quickened. What a time for
a panic attack, she thought to herself. But no, this was more than that.
As determined as Wilson was to take her in one direction the pull in the
other was greater. "I need to check on him first..." she turned back
toward his room down the hall and began to walk slowly, then her pace
quickened until she was almost running. "Ok, ok" Wilson followed behind,
keeping up the pace. Reaching the door she glanced through the glass at
his still body in the room. "Wilson..." she whispered to him under her
breath as he flew past her and through the door. Crossing over the
threshold she found herself next to him, peering into his desperate eyes.
HIs hands were clenched tightly, his lips and fingers were blue from lack
of oxygen. She sensed more than saw the room fill with others, her
comrades and coworkers gathering around him. Reaching for his hand she
tried to open his fist but it was useless, his fingers dug into his palm
with an ever increasing pressure. HIs chest rose and then fell so slowly
that she didn't know if he would manage to take another breath Death was
claiming his body inch but painfully slow inch. She saw the respirator
next to the bed and began to reach for it but then stopped. She looked
into his eyes instead. His gaze held her in place, it never wavered. 'He'
was still in there, locked in a tomb of flesh. She could see so much in
his eyes. It was as if he was speaking to her, laying everything that he
was and wanted in front of her. And in that instant, as they spoke to each
other without words she understood it all. To save him was to let him go,
to set him free. She was to be his silent witness and partner on this
final journey, seeing him just far enough to the edge before he spread his
wings to fly

TO BE CONTINUED......

  
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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 NBC/Universal, 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.