A short oneshot cowritten with The Sarcastic Polar Bear. Light Hameron romance, with Hilson friendship. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Not ours!
Allison Cameron was fascinated by snow.
Ever since she was a little girl, she had loved playing in it, watching it, and just trying to understand it. It was beautiful, and she never really lost that childlike fascination with it, even as she became an adult and the world around her changed.
She held out a gloved hand as she walked through the heavily falling snow. The weather had changed the previous afternoon, and by morning, the entire town was blanketed in snow. Since she lived so close to the hospital, Cameron had put on her warmest clothes and decided to walk to work. It was likely to be a slow day, with the only emergencies probably relating to the weather. Most everyone was staying home, and the entire world seemed to be silent.
Cameron finally reached the hospital, and as she suspected, there weren't many cars in the parking lot. Even more predictable was a distinct lack of a motorcycle in a handicapped parking space. She smiled to herself. House was probably still in his bed and dreaming of hookers or pianos or whatever he dreamed about. A distinct warmth flooded through her at the thought of him. They had started dating two weeks ago after years of dancing around how they felt, and she was happier than she had been in years. She pulled her hat down tighter, then leaned down to pull something wet and cold out of her boot.
The snow was falling heavier, and she briefly entertained the thought of turning around and going back home for some hot cocoa and a warm blanket made by her grandmother, followed by time alone with House in the evening. But her duty to any patients was a stronger pull.
Behind her, a car pulled into the parking lot as well. The driver struggled to see through the falling sheets of snow, and he yelped when his tires hit a patch of black ice. He grabbed at the steering wheel and tried in vain to regain control of the vehicle.
Cameron heard the squealing tires, and she turned around. Her eyes widened as her brain and muscles froze. She was a deer trapped in the headlights, frozen and helpless to stop the inevitable impact.
There was a disturbing thud, then the distinct sound of a body hitting the ground. Then all was silent.
James Wilson was returning from the cafeteria, fresh coffee in one hand, when he heard the commotion. His sharp ears picked up something about an accident in the parking lot, and immediately his thoughts went to House, who was due to arrive at the hospital any time. He drained his coffee as he hurried toward the parking lot.
Outside, the driver of the car had gotten out and was sitting on the trunk of his car, his head in his hands.
Wilson could see someone lying in the snow, and he frowned as his heart sped up.
Moving as quickly as he could, he joined a nurse who was already tending to the victim. "What's going on here?"
The nurse was obviously shaken. "Driver lost control of his car. He hit a woman..." She looked at him with wide eyes. "He hit Dr. Cameron."
Wilson turned as white as the snow, and he dropped to one knee beside them.
"Cameron?" He reached out and gently brushed back auburn hair. Cameron's face was pale and scraped from hitting the pavement, and blood trickled from her nose and a long laceration along the side of her face. "Allison?"
She didn't respond, and the next few minutes were a flurry of activity. A stretcher was produced, and once Cameron was safely inside, Wilson pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a familiar number with shaking fingers.
"House's Sex Shack," a voice grumbled on the other end of the line.
"House, it's me. You need to get down here. There's been an accident." He knew that House and Cameron had been seeing each other for a little over two weeks, and the only other person who knew about their relationship was himself. He didn't blame them for not wanting to tell others. They wanted to protect their fledgling relationship from judgmental eyes. "It's Allison."
Immediately he sat up in the bed. "How bad?"
"I'm not sure yet. Get down here." Wilson closed his phone, then took off in the direction of the E.R.
Less than fifteen minutes later, House limped into the ER and found his best friend sitting in a chair near the door. "What happened?"
Wilson got to his feet and tried not to flinch at the anger in House's features. "She was in the parking lot when a driver hit a patch of black ice. He lost control of the car and hit her. So far, all I know is that she has a concussion and a broken leg."
House scowled and sat down heavily.
Wilson watched him carefully. "Hey, she's going to be okay." He didn't know why he was saying that. There was no guarantee that Cameron would be okay. He had seen her lying unconscious in the snow, bloody and broken. He had to be realistic, and at the same time, he refused to be.
"Never knew you could see the future, Wonder Boy."
"I can't, but Allison is tough. She'll get through this."
House nodded slightly but didn't speak. The two men sat in silence for a while, time slowly ticking by. Finally he looked up when he heard approaching footsteps.
Wilson looked up as well, and he quickly recognized David Palmer, one of the best ER attendants the hospital had. A small part of him was reassured. He got to his feet. "How is she, David?"
He gave Wilson an apologetic look. "I'm afraid I can only speak with Dr. House right now, Wilson."
Understanding, Wilson squeezed House's shoulder. Then he walked away in search of coffee.
Palmer took Wilson's chair and handed Cameron's chart to House. "She came through surgery with only a few problems. Her right leg is broken, along with several of her ribs. She has a moderate concussion and required stitches for the laceration she received when her head struck the pavement."
He let out a soft sigh of relief. "Alright. Now scram."
"Just one more thing. She's been in and out of consciousness since we moved her to Recovery, and she's asked for you several times." He stood up, taking the file back from House. "As soon as she's moved to the ICU, you can see her."
"Says who? Last time I checked, I had full access to every part of this hospital."
"I understand that, Dr. House, but you know the rules. I'll let you know when she's in Recovery." He walked away, and a few minutes later, he returned to Recovery, where several nurses were readying Dr. Cameron to be moved to the ICU. He checked her vitals, only looking up when he heard a familiar, obnoxious snort. Dr. House stood a few feet away, his hand tightly gripping the handle of his cane.
"Dr. House..." Palmer moved away from his patient. "What are you doing here? I told you I'd get you when we moved Allison to the ICU." He knew it wasn't such a great position to take, between the brilliant but unstable doctor and the young doctor he'd always favored. But this was his patient, and rules were rules.
"And I'm telling you I don't give a damn."
One of the nurses gave Palmer a pointed look. "Maybe we could make an exception, just this once." Considering that if they didn't, House would make their lives a living hell just for the fun of it.
Palmer looked annoyed. "This is my..."
"I know. But we always try to make allowances when it's our own."
"Fine." Palmer took a step back. "We're moving her into the ICU right now. Stay out of the way."
The nurse knew it was his way of saving face, and she spared a small, apologetic smile for House.
House smirked and stepped past him. "Nice doing business with you. Let's do it again someday."
Palmer just scowled at him as he walked away.
Alone with House and Cameron, the nurse continued checking Cameron's vitals. "She's stable now."
As she said that, Cameron's fingers twitched at her side. A soft groan escaped her bruised lips.
"Allison?" The nurse leaned over, watching her patient carefully. "Can you hear me?"
Shifting her hips, Cameron took a shallow breath. "House..." Her fingers curled into fists.
"In the flesh."
Her eyelashes fluttered, and her lips curved in a small smile. Moments later, she sank back into blissful unconsciousness.
The nurse looked at House. "She recognized you. That's a good sign." She called for two orderlies. "We'll get her moved into the ICU, and you can sit with her."
He scowled. "Why do people tell me what to do?"
The nurse just smiled at him.
Within the hour, Cameron was finally settled in the Intensive Care Unit. House had stayed silent, simply glaring at anyone he even thought might say anything about his presence. He didn't care about any of them. All he cared about was his woman.
Two hours after Cameron had been placed in the ICU, she started to stir again. House was sitting in a chair by her bed, his bad leg propped up on her bed. It was close enough to feel her, but just far enough not to accidentally cause her any pain.
Her eyes cracked open slightly, and her hand came up to her head as she groaned.
"Lights," she groaned. She heard a shuffling noise and a click, and when she opened her eyes again, the room was considerably darker. She could make out House's features despite her blurred vision. "What happened...?"
"Some dumbass didn't know how to drive."
She shifted her hips uncomfortably, and a shot of pain went through her leg. She flinched as she tried to pinpoint the source of her pain. Breathing deeply was a problem, so broken ribs were a possibility. Her sensitivity to light and pain in her head screamed concussion, and by the way her leg was elevated, she guessed it was broken.
A warm hand slid into hers, catching her by surprise. She blinked slowly. "Broken leg, ribs, concussion... anything else?" Her throat was dry as she spoke.
"Not that I know of. "
"Mm." Her cheeks flushed as her pain increased. Her grip slowly tightened on his hand. The memories were coming back in pieces. She remembered walking to work, stopping in the parking lot... Her eyes slammed shut again.
"Don't worry. You'll feel up to healing sex soon."
A nurse stepped into the cubicle, and on seeing that her patient was awake, she immediately began checking Cameron's vitals. "How are you feeling, honey?"
"Everything hurts..." The pressure on her abdomen was intensifying.
"We'll take care of that in a second."
Cameron opened her eyes again, grateful that the lights had been kept dim. The pain was consuming, and her stomach threatened to rebel at any moment. She raised her free hand and placed it lightly over her stomach.
Moving quickly, the nurse checked Cameron's vitals, then recorded a few notes on her chart. "Okay, sweetheart." She pulled out a syringe and injected it into Cameron's I.V. "This should take care of the pain in just a minute."
Cameron nodded, but instantly regretted the movement. Another wave of nausea slammed into her, and she groaned quietly.
House leaned back and propped his feet up. "You know, the morphine trip should be even better since I'm here to watch."
Cameron gritted her teeth, while the nurse gave House a scolding look.
He feigned hurt. "I decide to be nice for a day and this is my thank you?"
"If this is you being nice..." Cameron winced as she tried to take a deeper breath, and her face paled. The nausea was worsening, but she tried to control it. Throwing up with broken ribs was not her idea of a good time.
The nurse watched her carefully. "Just give it a minute, Allison. You'll feel better soon."
But she was concerned about her patient's increasingly erratic vital signs.
The room started to spin and dip, and Cameron felt pressure intensifying behind her eyes.
"Allison? Can you tell me what you're feeling?"
The nurse quickly grabbed a bedpan and placed it by her patient's head, just as Cameron lost what little was in her stomach.
The retching wreaked havoc with her broken ribs, and tears slid down her cheeks as she continued to heave miserably.
House gave her hand a squeeze. "Think about me naked. That's probably more comforting than a Hallmark card."
Finally the nausea subsided, and as the nurse took the bedpan away, she slumped back against the pillows. Her hand curled tightly around his. "House..." The morphine was finally taking over, giving her some relief. "Greg, I'm sorry..."
"Didn't mean to..." Her words were starting to slur as she fought against the alluring fog the morphine offered. "Shoulda been more...more careful..."
He arched a brow. "Well, we have plenty of condoms."
She blinked lazily. The pain was finally gone. "Didn' mean to get hit... or fall in love..."
"Unless you have a hit me target on your back, I guess you're right."
She giggled. "No... just a love-struck idiot..." She looked at the IV in her hand. "Nice drugs..." Her eyes settled on him again. "Do you love me?"
"If I didn't, why would I be sitting here?"
"Guess you wouldn'." Reassured, she closed her eyes. "I won' remember this, will I?"
"Hmm... I do love you," she repeated sleepily.
"I guess the feeling's mutual then."
Her pretty mouth curved up in a smile, and her grip loosened on his hand as she finally gave up and slept.
Wilson was waiting in the hall when House finally emerged from Cameron's room, and he looked his best friend over. "How is she?"
"She'll be fine."
Wilson looked relieved and pleased. "Great." His smile faded just a little. "The guy who hit her...he says he wants to apologize to her."
"Is he drunk?" he asked with a glare.
"No. He says he hit a patch of black ice."
"Then tell him he's a jackass."
"I really didn't mean to," came a soft voice from behind House.
"You could have dodged her."
"I tried, man. I swear to God, I tried."
"You could have tried harder."
The man looked at Wilson helplessly.
Wilson shook his head. "House..."
Taking a step back, the man shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll come back later...to apologize to her..."
"No, you won't." Without thinking, House swung his fist at the man's jaw.
blow sent the man to the ground, and before House could advance, Wilson grabbed him and pulled him back toward Cameron's room. "House! Knock it off!" Knowing he wouldn't show his ass as much if Cameron was nearby, he pushed his best friend into Cameron's room, hoping the man who had hit Cameron would have enough sense to get the hell out of the hospital.
The voices and slamming of her door stirred Cameron, and she blinked slowly as she looked around the room. "House...?"
Wilson went to the bed. "He's right here, Cameron."
"Hey." He made his way over to her bed.
She smiled drowsily as he slid his hand into hers. She was still exhausted, and after another moment, she fell asleep again. But her grip on his hand remained firm.
Wilson managed a smile. "Good. Now you can't leave."
The only response he received was a glare from his best friend.
Three days after the accident, Cameron was recovering well. She had a steady stream of visitors (except for Chase, who seemed intimidated by House and was content to send flowers and balloons) and at night, in full violation of the rules of visiting hours, House sat by her bed and stayed with her. They didn't talk much, but Cameron was content enough to know he was there.
On the fourth day, Cameron got the news that she would be discharged in a week, as long as she had no complications.
House walked in a few minutes after her attending left, and she grinned at him. "Hey. Guess what? I get to escape in a week."
"To the strip joint?"
She laughed. "No. Home." Moving carefully, she raised the head of the bed until she was sitting upright.
"Really? My place is better."
"I'm sure, but I know my home. And I think I can get someone to help me if I need it."
He thought for a moment. "I'm sure I'm better."
"You might be, but I don't want to impose." She nodded at her broken leg.
He shrugged. "We'd be like twins."
"I guess we would." The idea of going to his place or letting him stay with her was becoming more and more appealing. She wouldn't be alone, and they could spend more time together.
"Fine. You win."
She laughed again, and he just grinned.
Less than a week later (probably due to House's incessant complaining) Cameron was finally discharged. House took her to his apartment, and she had insisted it would only be for a short while, possibly a couple of weeks. But those weeks passed quickly, and instead of her leaving, little things started changing around his apartment. His clothes were pushed aside in the closet to make room for hers, her shampoo joined his in the shower (he had complained loudly that he preferred strawberry to vanilla, until she finally got the message and switched to strawberry scented shampoos) and juice was strategically placed by his beer in the refrigerator. Her CDs made their way into his collection, and at night, she wore his t-shirts instead of pajamas to bed (he said that he preferred her in nothing). He became accustomed to her preference for cuddling after sex, and she became adept at leaving the bed early in the morning without waking him.
The weeks turned into months, and one morning over breakfast, Cameron looked at House. He was wearing his usual attire of jeans and a t-shirt, and for once, he was clean-shaven.
It was in that moment that she realized her accident had been the happiest accident of her life.
A/N: Hehehe. Gotta love them. Thanks for reading, and please review!