4

The lights in the hallways were dim, making it impossible to see anything clearly. It was because it was nighttime, and most of the people in the hospital needed their rest, especially the patients. Meanwhile, Kelly was still awake in the diagnostics room, lying on the soft couch-like chair House had.

She was deep in thought, thinking about ways to get more information about House, and maybe, perhaps, Cameron too. Kelly was very interested in House's background, and what made him such a jerk. Strangely, she generally didn't like jerks, but she had no problem facing House, so there had to be something about him that made her feel that way.

"Villains aren't born, they are made." What could possibly make House turn into such a...villain? Yes, he wasn't the type of villains in movies that would face heroes, but it was the same thing. He would become abrasive and ignore human feelings, not showing mercy for anyone at all.

"Amelia?" A woman with blonde hair and emerald eyes stood outside the office door, gazing through the glass door while knocking softly on the glass. The woman was in her early thirties, wearing a white and slight beige shirt that was ironed very well, and a leather black pants with a tight belt surrounding her waist. Her hair was brown and short, shoulder length.

"Vanessa. I'm glad you same," Kelly answered in a very cunning way. "Did you bring what I told you to?"

"Yes. Here's all the history and files I could find."

"Having a policewoman as a friend isn't so bad after all," Kelly replied with a grin, but turned out to be more like a smirk. "Thank you so much, Ness."

"You're welcome. If you don't mind, I'm going to go back to the police station. A lot of robbers to catch and lots of cases to solve."

"No problem. Get going," Kelly smiled, holding the files in her and tightly as if they were worth tons of gold and silver. She grinned to herself and once Vanessa was gone, she carefully placed them onto her lap, flipping through the first page slowly, like something would pop up suddenly if she didn't.

Name: Gregory Blythe House 

Date of birth: 11th June, 1959

Place of birth: New Jersey

Background information: ...

This was the part where Kelly was most interested in. She didn't care about his birthday or where he was born. The background information was all he needed. Which university he graduated from, and most of all, what happened to his leg.

If she searched for this file herself, it would be very time-consuming. On the other hand, having someone do that for you instead made it ten times better, and faster. Much more faster.

She scanned through the page as she discovered the wonders of House's life. She found out that he had a girlfriend before in college, and she recognised the young woman in the picture as Lisa Cuddy, the Dean of Medicine at PPTH.

The second girlfriend he had was Stacy Warner, a lawyer who studied at the International Law School. Of course, she knew who his girlfriend now was. That naïve girl, the one and only Allison Cameron.

He graduated from John Hopkins in the medicine field, and got the highest mark in the Final Exam to get his medical license. All these information were very detailedly given, yet the most important part wasn't included. So, what really caused his leg to become like this?

"Dr. Kelly," a voice said outside in a low and gruff way. She panicked and quickly hid the files, turning her head. "You're sitting in my chair," the voice belonged to House.

"Uh—sorry," she quickly said, getting up from the chair and gathering the files.

"What are those?" House looked at the files in her hands. 

"Patient files, from the E.R. Lots of patients are there from the building incident. Cuddy asked me to go there and help."

"Why are you holding them and reading them in my office, then?" 

"I'm on break," she stuttered nervously. "So I decided to read them here."

House nodded, but wasn't convinced. "I'm really interested in patients. May I see those?"

Sweat broke through Kelly's forehead. "Uh, I'm sorry, my break is over. Gotta go!" She scurried down the hallways, leaving House smirking. Now he definitely was interested in those files.

He made his way to the chair she was sitting in just now, and sat down, closing his eyes. His peace was interrupted by a very urgent Wilson bursting through the door.

"What!?" House asked, irritated.

"House, it's Cameron," Wilson said with a lot of hesitation. "She's in surgery."

"Of course she's in surgery. Wait what? I thought she was done with removing the pipe," House said, shocked. He stood up immediately and went to see her.

"She's losing too much blood," Wilson said, following House. "They had to put her in the surgery room to stop the bleeding and give her blood bags. She's getting enough oxygen, though."

He stopped in his tracks. "Is she okay now?"

"Yes." House sighed in relief when Wilson said that. He turned back to his office. 

"Aren't you going you going to wait for her to finish surgery?" Wilson asked, perplexed. House shook his head. "No. I'm going to do something more productive."

"Like?"

"Oh, I don't know, watch television first? You expect me to stand out there for at least—half an hour before she gets out of there with a bum leg? What a bad friend you are."

"I'm just saying, she might want to see you when she's out of surgery," his friend said with a loud sigh. House ignored him and went back to his office.

House placed his legs, crossed, onto his small coffee table in front of his chair. He picked up a magazine nearby, bring it to his face and scanning his eyes through it. After a few minutes, he groaned and put it down, rubbing his throbbing thigh.

He looked around to search for his pills. Nearby, on his work table, sat the orange pill bottle. It was too far to just grab it even with his cane. House dragged himself over and popped it open with his thumb, quickly swallowing two of them.

He would look at his watch from time to time. Twenty minutes finally came. He got up uneasily and limped to the surgery room on the 3rd floor. 

Outside, he found Wilson trying to peek into the room to see the progress. "You finally came," Wilson said.

"You finally divorced," House shot back.

"What?" Wilson's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we were stating the obvious."

Wilson's eyes narrowed as he shook his head in disapproval and impatience, sighing under his breath. "You're really not worried about her?" When he didn't receive an answer, he turned around from House and walked away.

House shouted to him from behind, "What makes you think I'm not?"

His friend stopped straight at his tracks, but didn't turn around. He slightly turned his head only, but not completely. "I don't know, but she'll want to see you." Wilson looked at his watch. "Ten minutes from now, she'll be out."

He continued walking. House looked away from him, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles, whispering to himself, "Please be okay, Allison."

The time finally came, and the doors opened. She was carried out on a bed with wheels, and the nurses were wheeling her towards the ICU.

Dr. Eric, the surgeon who performed her surgery stepped out looking weary, throwing his used mask, gloves and scrubs into the nearest rubbish bin. House stepped aside as he watched him do so.

Finally, the surgeon noticed him and nodded in his direction. "You're her father?"

House stared at him without any emotion, but he himself felt surprised at his statement. How could he possibly mistaken her as his daughter?

"N-no," he stuttered. Damn you, he thought to himself. House doesn't stutter.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Eric said, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. "I didn't mean to mistaken that. How are you related to Dr. Cameron?"

"I'm, uh, her friend." He didn't know why he didn't want to call himself her boyfriend. Was he ashamed of it? Ashamed of being her boyfriend when he seemed like her father? After all, she was almost half her age. It would be a reasonable guess to assume that Cameron was his daughter.

"Okay. So, Cameron had a terrible injury at the site, which I suppose you know, but don't worry, we fixed it," Eric said, explaining. House rolled his eyes.

"You do know that I'm a doctor, right?"

"Dr. House, yes, I do, but I thought it would be a good idea to just explain the situation to you, since you're a relative—"

At this point, House felt pointless to even say anything. He just turned around and grunted angrily, heading to the ICU to have a talk with Cameron. But what was he going to say? "I'm sorry,  I don't want to seem like your dad." ?

He opened the door to her room rather harshly, which woke her up. Cameron saw him and smiled, mumbling, "Hey, what time is it?" He didn't answer, much to her disappointment, and walked over beside her.

"What's up?" She asked, sensing the tension between them.

"That son of a bitch thought you were my daughter."

"Who?"

"You know, the bitch who cut you open with a knife?"

"Oh, you mean Dr. Eric?"

"Eric, bitch, janitor, whatever you call him. Yeah, him. He asked if I was your father."

"And?"

"And..."

"And you're letting that get to you," Cameron finished for him. "House. Listen. I know you're much older than me, but he was just...trying to guess your age, I guess. He doesn't know us. But are you seriously letting such a small matter affect you? Really?"

"I don't want everybody to just assume that I'm your father."

"So you're ashamed."

"Never said that."

"But that's what you mean," Cameron said with a sigh. "It's alright, I understand. But I really want this to work, I tried so hard not to blow this chance. I can't believe you're letting a simple statement get into our relationship."

"Cameron, did I ever say that? I'm not ashamed. I'm...I don't know. But I'm not ashamed." He brushed his fingers against her cheek. "We'll talk about this after you get better, okay? Right now, focus on recovering."

Luckily for him, Cameron nodded and laid down, closing her eyes and drifting to sleep. House decided that he needed to think, so once so once she fell asleep he immediately went back to his office.

He bounced his beloved ball back and forth against the wall, sometimes catching it with his cane. What he didn't know, Wilson was watching him outside the glass door.

Wilson quietly entered, and sneaked behind House. Before he could, House turned around and smirked. "Caught you."

His friend sighed. House's eyes widened as he pointed straight at Wilson's face. "Ah-ha. Came to lecture me with your love psychology again?"

"Yes. And no." His answer was way too simple than it actually was. His friend sat down and made himself at home in his office, putting his arms on the armrest on House's couch. "How's Cameron?"

"If I weren't dating her I would think you've put the moves on her already," House implied, taking a sip of coffee then spitting it out. "Who made this?"

"Kelly, I suppose," Wilson replied sheepishly. "We're not here to discuss about coffee, are we?"

"No," House said, grinning for no reason in particular. "And since we're not, I suggest you to get the hell out of my office." He emphasised the last few words, setting his mug down harshly on his table.

"Nah, that wouldn't be fun," Wilson stated impatiently. "Now, are we gonna talk about Cameron or your coffee that apparently tastes like crap but doesn't actually taste like crap?"

"That'll be boring." He closed his eyes and then a second later, opened his left eye. "You're still here? Guess we're actually going to talk..."

Wilson sat up straight. "I know there's something going on. Yesterday, you were all about sitting beside her bed and waiting for her to wake up. What happened?"

"We...argued."

"And you didn't tell me?" Wilson asked, surprised. House rolled his eyes at the shock of his friend, rubbing his forehead and looking back at him.

"Why should I? Not like telling you would mend anything."

Wilson stood up, this time, and walked in front of him. "I might be able to help. As much as I won't talk about, and as much as I hate you mocking me for it, I've had three marriages. Three. If anything, or anyone, the first person you'll want to talk to about a failed relationship would be me."

"Are you promoting yourself as a love psychologist?" House mocked, not being serious about what Wilson said. Wilson sighed loudly and thought about giving up, but not until he knew what happened and what the argument was about.

"Tell me."

"Fine. You know, the simple—she simply said she didn't want to be treated unfairly. I told her that she always wanted to be a saint."

"That's not all," Wilson added. "That's only half of it."

"Damn. How did you know?" House asked in surrender. "Fine. She sounded jealous when I mentioned about Kelly, and just now, when she got out of the surgery room, Dr. Eric asked if I was her father."

"And you're ashamed of it."

"Why is everybody just assuming that I'm ashamed for being called her father? I never said that, did I? Is it that obvious?"

"House, anyone could tell by your voice. You do love her still, right?"

House couldn't help but nod. He knew Wilson was here to help him, though he didn't want to admit nor did he want to thank him for giving advice.

"Good. Then there's nothing to be ashamed of. Who cares what others think if she actually means something to you?"

"You're right, I guess," House muttered, not letting Wilson here. But he already heard it, and he smiled. "Go apologise to her, House. She's probably upset from the argument. Don't get me started on her injuries. You should try to understand her a little bit more, she's hurt."

"I'm not Mr. Nice Guy," House said to himself. He knew Wilson heard it, and his friend put his hand on his shoulder. "At least try, House," he offered. "I did all I could to help you."

House heaved out a heavy breath, and stumbled across words. He had no idea what to do or say in this situation right now, and Wilson was waiting for an answer, whether he would go and do something about the argument.

In the end, after a long time of hesitating, House decided that he was going to give up on his ego. He had to do something about it, and not lie around waiting for Cameron to make a move. "Fine," he said.  "I'm going. Happy?"

Wilson grinned as he watched him walk to Cameron's room, down in the ICU. Out of all the times Cameron was a patient in the hospital, 90% of all times was in the ICU. A staff member as a patient meant VIP treatment.

Cameron was wide awake like he expected when he entered her room. She was staring at the ceiling with her eyes blank, until she saw him.

"There's something bugging me," House quickly murmured, quietly, but loud enough for Cameron to hear. Hearing this, she was instantly interested and sat up, looking at him with her bright blue green eyes widened.

Her reaction made House respond awkwardly, looking away. "You're going to tell me or not?" Cameron asked impatiently.

"If you keep talking I'm not going to say anything," House said, frowning. Cameron sighed and laughed in surrender, gesturing her thumb and index finger to her lips and pretending to zip up her lips.

"I just talked to the people-pleasing oncologist. He told me that I had to 'mend our relationship or something'. The argument we had earlier, before your surgery...I was wrong. I guess it's fair for you to want to be treated like any other patient. Not because you want to be a saint, but because you're a kind woman."

Cameron beamed and nodded encouragingly, and House unwillingly continued. "And I'm not ashamed about being called your father. Who cares what others think, huh?"

She chuckled softly at this. "I know you tried so hard to get those words out of your mouth." She leaned forward so that House would too, and she wrapped her arms around him proudly. 

"Thank you. It meant a lot to me," she smiled.

"Am I supposed to say you're welcome?" House joked teasingly, then heading for the door. Cameron raised an eyebrow, "Leaving so soon?"

"Gotta tell Wilson the good news."

"And what's the good news?"

House paused for a second, then grinned and replied, "I'm forgiven." Before Cameron could react, he rushed out of the door. She laughed and shouted back to him, "Hey! I haven't said that nor did you apologise yet!"

House, in fact, did not go find and talk to Wilson. He figured that, if he really wanted to know what happened, he'd search high and low for him.

He crossed his leg as he sat on the bed in the clinic, avoiding both Cuddy and Wilson, holding a magazine close to his face and scanning through the words without paying much attention to them. He was just pretending to read it, but all that was in his mind was Cameron and those files Kelly were holding?

She seemed pretty interested reading those files, like there was some pretty secretive information in them. He was sure something important was in it, otherwise she wouldn't hide it from him like that. And anyway, reading those files in his office and his chair was a mistake.

Just then, Kelly opened the door of the exam room he was in. Speak of the devil.

"Cuddy's looking for you," she whispered.

"Since you're not busy at all, help me finish my clinic duty."

"Isn't that your job? I shouldn't be doing your clinic duty, and anyway, I'm not free at the moment. I have to sort your mail."

"Well, you're free enough to get your ass down here and tell me the evil ice queen is looking for me. Go do it, and in the meantime, give me those files on your way out."

Kelly flushed as she noticed the files she was holding in her hand. Big mistake.

"Can't," she said quickly and nervously. "Privacy rights of the patients in the E.R. I'll go do your clinic duty now, got to go!" She frantically scurried out.

It just made House more and more curious about what was in those files.