So now you live

With the safety off

The bullets fire without provocation

And the shooter isn't safe

Just because they bear a weapon

When Remy got to work the next morning, she was met automatically with side glances and whispered comments, which was nothing she wasn't used to. After the incident with Spencer, Remy had gotten a very similar reaction where she'd become the topic of much of the hospital's gossip for about a week or so until the chatty nurses dug up something better on someone else. Ironically enough, it was Spencer's case that made Remy decide to dig up Adrianne's card after two years of not talking to the redheaded woman. The last time the two of them had talked, Adrianne had given her a card, informing her that if she ever needed to talk to someone who actually knew what they were saying that she would give her a great discount. Remy had scoffed at the offer and buried the card in a drawer at her apartment. She'd never bothered to call even to say hello.

That had been a few months ago, and now Adrianne had asserted herself firmly back into Remy's life as her therapist. That wasn't to say that Remy got better. She'd recognized that she really did have a problem, the first step so it was called, and she made a plan to deal with it. Rather, she made a plan to talk about her issues, but she made no changes to any other part of her life. Nope, the drugs, alcohol, and women were still her holy trinity of weekend enjoyment.

Remy opened the door of the diagnostics room to eight eyes staring right at her with varying degrees of judgment. She took in their assessment but didn't react, trying to rationalize that it was only natural that her colleagues had formed some sort of opinions on her actions without asking her about her side of things. It was human nature to judge a book by its cover. Why else do we dress up for interviews, or first dates, or court trials?

"Look, the Lesbian's alive!" House announced with bravado. Never did Remy think that she would be grateful for House's keen skill of being demeaning before. His words broke the invisible tension that hovered in the room like a plastic bag, suffocating her.

"Unfortunately, we do have doctors who know how to save lives here," Remy said, setting her stuff down and taking a seat next to Kutner. He, out of everyone in the room, would judge her the least for what had happened on Friday night. He was usually a pretty happy-go-lucky guy willing to find the best in someone. She hoped that would apply to her as well.

"I save lives," House boasted. Taub rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you take one out of every twenty cases. I think we'll hear your name mentioned at the next conference in Stockholm," Taub said with sarcasm. House pretended to be moping while Foreman flipped open a file sitting on the table.

"Male, early thirties, complaining of back pain and nausea and abdominal pain, but the x-ray came up clear, as did the CT," Foreman started running the actual differential.

"Gastroenteritis. Come on, this isn't even a real case," Remy answered.

"You're right, it's not. He's got run of the mill stomach flu. Thirteen, go send this case back to Cameron and tell her to give me another easy one," House commanded.

Cameron. There was someone Remy really didn't want to see at the moment. "Why are we getting easy cases from the ER?" Remy asked.

"Because Cuddy said if I do seven cases this week she'll let me have HBO," House answered. And, of course, House would simply find the easiest cases down in the ER and take credit for them. How typical. Remy held out her hand for the file and received it, leaving the room without another word.

Before going down to the ER, Remy stopped in the bathroom. She didn't really feel the need to use it, but the relative privacy it provided was welcomed. She was tired of being a spectacle in some way, always forced into the spotlight when she was really the type of woman who liked to fade away to some degree, at least in the workplace. House always made a spectacle of everything and everyone, so it was almost comforting when he drew attention to her. It was normal. But when many of the nurses on every floor and even some of the doctors from other apartments started sending glances her way because of something they knew about her… well, that went against everything Remy strove for.

And now she would have to go down to see Cameron, who knew exactly what had happened and knew exactly how to actually care about the situation. Remy was really beginning to regret her decision to take Ecstasy that night, not that she would be telling Adrianne that any time soon.

With a sigh, Remy left the safety of the bathroom and continued the rest of the way down to the ER. When she arrived, she saw Cameron at the main desk handing out files to nurses and engaging them in conversation, pointing things out to them. She had a look of intense concentration on her face, not a smile, but also not a frown. It was somewhere in between. She should be stressed by the hectic surroundings, but instead it seemed to just bring out her determination. In that way, Remy assumed, she was perfect for the job as head of the ER.

When she realized that she'd been watching Cameron for a couple minutes, she shook her head slightly and made her way over to the blonde doctor. Cameron didn't notice Remy approaching, so she had to tap the older woman on the shoulder, which caused her to whirl around.

"What?" Cameron almost snapped. But then she saw who it was that had asked for her attention and her features softened for just a moment, her shoulders releasing tension. "Oh. Why don't we take this into my office?"

And with that Cameron set off toward her office, leaving Remy no choice but to follow. She wanted to stop her and just demand that they exchange files right there in the open, but Cameron was focused on her goal, and right now her goal was to get the two women into her office. Once they arrived, Cameron shut the door behind them.

"I brought you the file House had," Remy informed the other doctor. But Cameron seemed uninterested in the file that was extended toward her.

"I know that you're not one to really open up about things because I don't even know your first name. But I also know that Cuddy put you on probation and you should really talk to someone," Cameron said, her hard look of determination gone and replaced by her brow being slightly furrowed and her eyes large and caring.

Remy took a deep breath. Pity infuriated her because it implied that she was to be pitied, making her pitiful, and she was far from. "I already have a therapist, I don't need another one in you," she said with an eye roll. She had not wanted to disclose that she was visiting a therapist, but since Adrianne had already taken it upon herself to inform someone at the hospital, Remy figured it was only a matter of time until everyone knew.

"Oh, you do? That's- that's great," Cameron stuttered, seeming surprised. Remy tried hard not to smirk at how off-balance she'd made the other doctor. But Cameron cleared her throat and found her center of balance again. "But sometimes it's good to have someone who's not going to analyze everything you do. A friend, I mean," Cameron continued.

Well, that was not how Remy had expected this to go. If anything, she expected a lecture on how recreational drugs were a no-no. Cameron seemed to be that maternal type of person. Instead, she seemed to have temporarily completely skipped over the issue and extended a hand of friendship. It was weird. Plus, Cameron, friends with someone who took drugs? It sounded impossible.

"I have friends," Remy defended herself. She knew that wasn't exactly what Cameron was getting at, but it was better to deflect than to deal with what was really going on.

Cameron's brow furrowed deeper. "I didn't mean to imply you didn't. I'm sorry, this conversation is going all wrong," she apologized. Remy once again smothered a slight smile at the imbalance she'd created in the blonde woman.

Remy extended the file to Cameron and she took it. "House wants another easy case," Remy explained. Cameron nodded and turned around momentarily to dig through a small stack of files on her desk. Remy looked around the office as she waited for Cameron to finish picking one out, noticing a lack of personal photos. When she turned back, it was with case file in hand.

"Thanks," Remy muttered, taking the file and turning to leave. Cameron said nothing, and the internist was off to return to House.

On the way up to diagnostics, Remy decided to take a quick look at the file. When she opened it up, however, she was not drawn to the patient's history or symptoms but rather a post-it note that had been added, stuck to the first page of information on the patient. The note said, "If you change your mind about talking to a friend." Underneath of that was a phone number. Remy stopped along the side of the hallway such as not to get in anyone's way, staring at the post-it. Cameron must have scribbled it down when she was turned around looking for a new case file. After a few seconds of just staring at the ten words and ten numbers, Remy plucked the note off the file and crumpled it up, shoving it in her pocket, silently telling herself that she'd never use it. Also, it wasn't exactly like she wanted to leave it in there for House to see.

Upon getting back to the diagnostics room, Remy tossed the file on the table. Taub picked it up this time to look at it, and House was busy throwing his ball against the wall and catching it again.

"Liver failure? This one's more serious. Are you sure you asked Cameron for another easy case?" Taub questioned. Intrigued by that, Kutner grabbed the file from his colleague's hands.

"Wait, look at this part. The patient was diagnosed early with the same stomach flu as the patient before. It's going around this time of year. This patient was probably taking Acetaminophen for the pain because other painkillers cause upset stomachs," Kutner pointed out.

"Give Kutner a prize. Acetaminophen overdose it is. You know, making a diagnosis like that in under thirty seconds… you're starting to become more like me," House said, giving Kutner a meaningful nod.

"Really?" Kutner asked, his eyes widening in hope.

"No, of course not, you idiot," House scoffed, returning to his previous activities of bouncing the red ball off the walls.

"So that means it's not an overdose?" Kutner asked, now confused. Remy almost pitied him except for the fact that he knew exactly what he was getting into with this job since the entire game they'd gone through together just to get hired.

"Have some self-confidence, you woman!" House spat. "Yes, it's an overdose, you're an idiot for thinking you deserved praise for solving an easy case. Kutner, your turn to go get a new case," House explained. "Oh, and you two, go treat the two patients that we just talked about." Funny how insulting Kutner came first and patient care was an afterthought. Only the best at Princeton Plainsboro.

Remy walked out of the room to go pump the patient's stomach that had an overdose of Acetaminophen and Foreman walked out with her. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about what happened on Friday," Foreman said as soon as the two of them were out of the room. Remy took a deep breath, preparing for the annoyance that was her colleague questioning her personal choices.

"I'm fine," Remy answered vaguely. Foreman gave her a disapproving look, one of the many reasons she didn't like people looking into her personal life.

"I don't think overdosing on Ecstasy is exactly what I would call fine," Foreman responded in a bit of a scolding tone.

"If I want your opinion, I'll be sure to ask," Remy shot back. "I'll go pump the second patient's stomach. I suggest you treat the first patient." With that, Remy veered off to ask for some help from a couple of nurses.

The room was spinning. Remy tried to remember the past couple hours of her life, but the fact that her head seemed to be spinning around just as much as the room distracted her more. And the set of lips making their way down her neck. And since when was her ceiling yellow?

"You a'ight?" Remy heard a voice slur. She nodded and looked at the person those wandering lips were attached to. It was a young woman, probably about her same age, with black hair and green eyes. She was hot, Remy supposed. But why was the ceiling yellow? The thought came back.

"Mhmm," Remy mumbled in response. The other girl giggled at that and resumed her previous ministrations, her lips making it down her neck once more and to her chest, her barely-clothed chest.

Remy let the other woman take control of the situation, which wasn't something she usually did. But Remy was too drunk to care, too pleased to stay there unmoving, and the ceiling was yellow. Somehow, she knew that meant something. Something important. But it was too much work to care. To hold onto the moment. Why bother remembering what was happening? It seemed like all too much effort.

And Remy faded into the moment.

Sometime later, maybe a few hours, Remy woke up with a dead weight across her stomach. She had a pounding headache that immediately told her of her night's activities- she'd spent some time hiding behind a bottle. Her theory was confirmed when she pushed the deadweight off her stomach and realized it was an arm, an arm that was attached to a currently passed out woman. Remy looked down at herself and realized that she lacked in the clothing department.

With a groan of pain, Remy got up to find her jeans and shirt, shrugging them on and making sure she had everything in her pockets that she needed- wallet and phone, really. Once she'd done that, she took one last look at the apartment bedroom, noticing that it wasn't all too different from her own. With a shake of her throbbing head, Remy left the room after tugging on her shoes.

After leaving a few doorways, Remy found herself outside standing in front of a quiet street. She looked around to see that she hadn't driven to this unknown woman's house and that she honestly had no way of finding her way home. With a sigh, Remy flipped out her cell phone and stared at it, about to hit her speed dial for Adrianne's number. It wouldn't be the first time, but it wasn't something she did often. This was why she usually took women to her place, not the other way around.

With her finger hovering over the number two for speed dial, Remy paused. Ten digits floated into her head and she punched them into the phone instead. For a moment she had to stare at the numbers, trying to remember what they meant. When the memory resurfaced, she pressed the call button. After four rings, a sleepy voice picked up.

"Hello?" the tired women asked. Remy swallowed and rubbed her temple with her free hand. There was no going back from it now, no way she could just hang up or pretend this call never happened.

"Hey. I know it's probably really late and everything… but do you think you could pick me up?" Remy asked. The other side of the line stayed quiet for a moment and Remy started to regret punching in those ten numbers.

"You're drunk," the other woman replied. Remy held back her automatic snarky reply of "No shit, Sherlock" in favor of actually getting a ride home.

"Yeah. I… I can see a street sign for Sunset Avenue. I'm not too far from the hospital," Remy said instead.

"I'll put it into Google Maps, figure out where you are." Remy mumbled something that she was pretty sure sounded like "thanks" but that might have been her headache speaking. In fact, her headache started taking over, pressing on her skull. She started finding the pavement a lot closer to her face and lost her grip on the phone in her hand.

The last thing Remy remembered was that she hated the color yellow. Her own ceiling was white.

A/N: This story takes place sometime during season 4, I think, which puts Cameron in the ER, Chase in the OR, and Foreman, Kutner, Taub, and Thirteen on House's team. I'm not promising that I won't play with other timeline things or relationships though. I promise there will be Cadley.

And I think I plan on putting a piece of related poetry (all written by me) at the beginning of each chapter.

So, anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Remy is not done her nosedive yet. Reviews will make me both happier and better, so please take a few seconds to do so. Thanks for reading!