Title: Nonconsensual (Part 1/3)
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Author's note: Be gentle, it's my first time! And PLEASE leave feedback :)
Summary: House can't stand to see her hurt like this, and, even if he had no way of showing it, it killed him inside.
Friday mornings were always a little less hectic at PPTH. Unless House’s team had an unusually tough case, they spent the day covering House’s clinic hours and doing paperwork, while “da man” himself wandered around with
Chase was a bit relieved when he walked in and wasn’t the last to arrive. Foreman had come in right on time, but both were a bit shocked to discover the unmade pot of coffee, and even more shocked when House walked in later. Cameron late? She hadn’t called in yet, but maybe she just had some car trouble.
Cameron wasn’t sure if she was awake or not, but all she could hear was the damn dog next door howling at a siren. God, who makes their dog sleep outside in the freezing cold anyways? Turning over to go back to sleep, she glances at the clock, which reads 9:28. Fuck. Practically leaping out of bed, she saw that the room looked messier than usual. There was a lamp on the floor, and her sheets (and clothes, for that matter) were scattered around the floor. Amazingly, she was able to dress and drive to work before 10:00. What wasn’t quite so amazing was her inability to remember the previous night’s events. She didn’t feel hung over, but something didn’t feel right. Had she really had that much to drink?
When she walked in the hospital, she immediately ran into House. Why did he choose today to start on time?
“So nice of you to grace us with your presence.”
“I was feeling a little sick this morning, but I thought my time would be better spent answering your mail and making you coffee.”
“Ooh, snarky! Rough night?”
Cameron suddenly felt an inexplicable desire to slap him. But at the same time, she wanted to slap herself for not remembering the specifics of her date.
“I need to catch up on some paperwork. Excuse me.”
She sidestepped him and opted for the stairs, as to avoid an elevator confrontation.
Around noon, Chase and Foreman asked her if she wanted to grab something to eat with them. She thought that was sweet of them. They hadn’t gone out as a group in months.
“Let me just take these files to accounting, and then we can all take my car,” she said.
As Chase and Foreman gathered their coats, they heard the sound of papers falling to the floor in the hallway. Looking out the door, they see a huddle of people around a fragile-looking body. Then they see the white of her lab coat.
“She was just walking and all of the sudden collapsed!” yelled a nurse.
An elevator door opened and House limped out, and almost forgot about his leg at the sight of Cameron, lying on the floor, looking so lifeless. He ran to her, holding her head up and checking her pulse. Her heart was still beating, it wasn’t life-threatening. Still, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Get her into the ICU!” he ordered.
After checking to make sure nothing was wrong with her head or back, Chase picked her up and carried her to the nearest open bed, as the nurses ran to fetch a gurney. House felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of this. He knew Chase thought of Cameron as only a friend, but a part of him longed to be her night-in-shining-armor, and if it wasn’t for his leg, he would scoop her up in a heartbeat.
A few hours later, after House’s team had run almost every test in the book, Foreman noticed something very unsettling in Cameron’s tox screen. He ran to House’s office, almost afraid to deliver the news.
“What did the tests show?” House practically shouted.
Foreman, not wanting to be in the line of fire when the results were delivered, said calmly, “Her condition is improving, and she should be awake within the hour…”
“WHAT DID THE TESTS SHOW?”
“She has a dangerously high amount of gamma hydroxy butyrate in her system.”
“No, that can’t be it. Run them again.”
“House, she was raped.”
Author’s note: gamma hydroxy butyrate- “the date rape drug”
Should I continue?