House sat in his chair, head tilted back, both hands clamped tightly on his right leg. The pain was worse than it had been for a while. Physical exertion always did that to it. Just walking with the cane was bad enough, but running, full on running, without any support? He wouldn't walk right for days, he could just feel it.

It hadn't been his choice, though. He hadn't had much of a choice, after all. He was a jerk, that had already been already established, but what would he be if he had just stood by and watched as his patient suffocated her own baby? Not human, that was for sure. And he, Gregory House, was unfailingly, regrettably, deplorably human.

His gaze had flicked to the hospital room of his current patient, Kara. She was lying on her side in the bed, moving around a bit in a strange manner. The little cot at the end of her bed where her infant son Mikey had been lying, was empty.

"Where's the baby?" he asked Foreman, who looked up to follow his gaze.

It took House a few seconds to put the pieces of the puzzle together. But when he realized what she was doing, what she was doing to her son, he knew he had to move fast. That was not easy for him. But he had to do it.

He threw his cane to the side and ran as fast as he could into Kara's room. Every step was agony, and it took all House had not to curse, or collapse where he was. But that was not an option. His injured right leg was screaming out in protest, but House kept going. He could hear Foreman's footsteps behind him. As soon as House was through the door, he raced over to Kara, throwing the baby cot out of his way as he did so. His first instinct had been right. She was smothering the baby. Foreman grabbed her by the shoulders and restrained her as House grabbed Mikey and pulled him away from the bed.

"Get off me!" Kara screamed as House cradled the baby to his pounding chest. "No! I have to do this!" She continued to screech and thrash against Foreman, who was pressing her to the bed.

"No breath sounds." House said, lifting his ear from the infant's chest. He called out, "Crash cart and epi, stat!"

He lowered his face and began giving mouth-to-mouth to the baby. Mikey's pudgy face was so small under his. He puffed air into the baby's lungs, although he felt like he was not breathing himself.

"I told you your psych theory wasn't stupid." House called over to Foreman between breaths.

Now there he was. Sitting alone in his office with the lights out. He was in so much pain that the thought of getting up and walking down to his motorcycle made him feel physically sick, or maybe that was the excess of Vicodin he had taken. Maybe he wouldn't leave. Maybe he'd just fall asleep in his chair and stay there until the sun broke through the clouds, and it was time to work again. At least Cuddy would think he was there early.

The slight creak of someone opening his office door shook House from his thoughts. The lights flicked on. He looked up to see Cameron standing in the doorway.

"House, are you still here?" she asked in surprise. "I thought you would have gone home by now."

"Well, judging from the fact that I'm still here… the answer is no." he replied dryly.

"Do you want a lift home?" offered the immunologist, ignoring his sarcasm. "I'm heading out now. I just forgot my scarf in here somewhere."

House didn't say anything. He wanted to take her up on her offer, but he knew if he stood up the pain would multiply tenfold. He would react accordingly, because no one, not even him, can hide from that much pain. Then she would start fussing over him, which he did not want. Cameron's eyes travelled slowly from his face to his right leg, which he was now massaging with both hands. "Is your leg all right?" she inquired tentatively.

"It's never all right, Cameron."

"Well… is it worse?"

He paused for a moment, weighing his options. He could lie, but she wouldn't believe him. Or he could tell the truth and look weak. Well, either way he would look weak. After all, he was weak. He didn't think he could stand up on his own. "Yes." he admitted finally. "When I stopped the patient from smothering her kid, I had to run to get there in time. Quickly, and without my cane. Now my leg hurts like hell."

"Oh." Cameron sounded worried. She walked over to his chair and sat down on the edge of his footrest. He moved his healthy leg so she had room. "Did you really run? Without your cane?"

"Yes." he replied tersely. "And it hurt like you'd never believe."

"That was so brave of you, House." she said.

"Brave?" He scoffed. "I don't think so."

"No, really." she pressed on. "You did that, even though you knew it would hurt you. That's a sacrifice, House."

"A sacrifice? Cameron, please. I'm not you. I don't do stupid self-sacrificial things. I'm a doctor. I tried to save a life. It's my job." House snapped.

She laid one of her hands on his crippled leg. He stiffened, but she was gentle enough that the pressure didn't hurt. "Well, you can believe what you want to believe." said Cameron. "But I just wanted to say… I'm proud of you."

Just like that, she had him speechless. House stared at her, studying her expression and her slight smile. As she noticed that he was looking at her, her smile widened.

"Come on." she finished. "I'll take you home."

"What about my motorcycle?" House asked.

"Leave it here. I'll pick you up in the morning and you can ride it home tomorrow night." she said.

"Sounds fine, but… Cameron, I don't think I can stand up." he confessed, swallowing his pride. It hurt.

Cameron's smile faltered slightly. "I'll help you." she offered. She stood up, and put her arm around him, grasping his side firmly. "Okay, stand up now. I've got you."

House put his left arm around her shoulders, placed his feet on the ground, and unsteadily got up. His right leg was throbbing, and the pain was almost unbearable. "Shit." he muttered, legs shaking. Cameron's grip on his side tightened. He transferred some of his weight to her, off of his bad leg. The hand he had on his cane was trembling, while her other hand found its way onto his chest. Breathing hard, the older doctor took a few limping steps, leaning heavily on both her and his cane.

"There you go." murmured Cameron soothingly. "You're doing great."

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm five, Cameron." he hissed. That shut her up. They walked the rest of the way to the elevator in silence.

Once they got outside the building, Cameron brought him over to a nearby bench and finally spoke up again. "Stay here. I'll bring my car around."

"Okay." House sat down, extending his sore leg. He watched her as she was walking away, her dark hair bobbing around her shoulders. "Wait. What about your scarf?"

She turned back to look at him. "It's okay. It will be here tomorrow."

"It's cold out here, though." he reminded her in a low voice. Her shirt was low cut that day, exposing her neck, collarbones, and parts of her shoulders. The older doctor wondered absentmindedly if she was cold.

Cameron smiled. "I'll be fine." She turned back around and headed off into the parking lot. House continued watching her as she walked. A few minutes later, she pulled up to him in her car. The passenger seat window rolled down and she called out, "Can you make it this far, or do you want me to help you?"

It wasn't far at all. House called back, "I'm fine." He stood back up, putting as much weight onto his cane as he could. The pain was excruciating, but he limped over to Cameron's car and collapsed into the passenger seat.

"You okay?" she asked as he passed her his cane so he could do up his seatbelt.

"Fine." he lied.

She passed him his cane back after hearing the click. "Do you think you'll be coming into work tomorrow?"

"Depends."

"Well, I said I'd pick you up." Cameron reminded him as she started to drive. "How about I come by your place tomorrow morning and either I drive you in if you're feeling better, or I just check up on you if you want to stay home?"

"Fine." he said again.

Cameron sighed. "You're a good person, House. You are."

House scoffed. "You're the only one who seems to think so."

"I can see why." she chuckled. "You're sarcastic and rude. You're an all-around mean-spirited person, and a lot of people don't like you. They have good reason not to."

"Gee, thanks." He sighed dramatically. "Didn't anyone tell you not to say mean things to cripples?"

She smiled sympathetically. "I wasn't finished. So… yes, you're pretty horrible. But you do care for people. I always knew you did."

"I'm not automatically a good person because I saved one baby." he replied darkly. "Anyone would've saved the baby. I'd be a bad person if I didn't save the baby. But… I tried to save it. It died, but I did try. So I'm just a person."

"That's true, but you could have just as easily sent Foreman in. He can run faster than you any day." Cameron reasoned.

"Exactly. He's black."

"House. I'm serious." she said. "You could have sent Foreman in first. But you didn't. You knew there was no time to waste. And you did the right thing, even though it put you in physical pain." She shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I think that makes you a good person."

He stared at her for a moment. She was right. God, she was always right. It was irritating. "You always see the best in me." he told her in a low voice. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

"Doesn't matter, does it?" She glanced sidelong at him, or maybe she was just looking left and right. "I think you need as much of that as you can get."

"Good point."

They were mere minutes away from his house by then. House quieted down, turning to look out the window. Cameron finally broke the silence when they pulled up to the curb. "Wait there. I'll come around and help you."

House got out of the car and stood leaning up against it. Cameron came around to his side, and looped his arm around her shoulders. "Ready?" she said. "Let's go."
They went up the few steps to his door. House fumbled in his pocket for his keys, and moments later, they were in. Cameron flicked the light switch on.

"Bedroom's just down there." he told her, nodding his head toward the room in question. Cameron nodded wordlessly, and they headed in. Once he was there, House let go of her and flopped down onto the bed. He kicked off his shoes, and Cameron put them neatly against the wall.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked.

"A hooker." he joked. "Unless you'd like to do the job?"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I'm serious."

"I'm fine. Just turn off the lights on your way out."

"Okay, I will." She stood there for a few moments, her blue-grey eyes trained on him. House held her gaze unflinchingly.

"Anything else, Cameron?"

"No." She shook her head, averting her gaze. "Goodnight, House. I'll see you in the morning."

"All right."

She turned around, and started to leave the room. Just then, House called out, "Wait. Cameron."

Cameron turned back around. "Yes? What is it?"

"Thank you." he said in a low voice. She seemed to catch the sentiment, because a smile spread across her face.

"You're welcome." she breathed, sounding pleasantly surprised. He did not risk a smile. Still, she looked happy. "Well... I'd better go." she said finally. "Bye, House."

He watched her as she left, flicking off lights as she went. For a moment, House wondered if he had done the wrong thing by opening up and thanking her. But no, the look on her face had been enough for him. Besides, she deserved it. She deserved his thanks and so much more.

Maybe she was right; maybe he was a good person. But no matter how good he was, she, Allison Cameron, would always be ten times better. It was a fact. And no matter how good he was, he would never deserve her.

end