Hello everyone! :)

Another idea that came to me and I couldn't resist writing it :p Not a oneshot this time but not a long fic either. This one is going to be a three parter. It takes place early in season 5 but there are no particular spoilers since I'm not going to write any details about any of the episodes.
House is trying to find a way to get Cameron out of his mind but it doesn't go exactly as planned...

I hope you will enjoy reading this story :)

Disclaimer: I don't own House MD...


Chapter 1: Stitching

Part 1/3

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He is sitting in his big lounge chair, a glass of scotch in his right hand, his feet propped up on the footstool.

It is really quiet; something completely normal if you consider the fact that it is 2 o'clock in the morning.

He is in the same position for at least three hours now. He doesn't want to go home… His eyes are glued to the glass door.

He is contemplating whether or not to stand up and head for the ER, go find her.

Three hours and he still hasn't decided though.

He saw her that afternoon… she was with him, having lunch at the cafeteria. His eyes connected with hers and for some unknown reason he couldn't look away from her captivating green-blue eyes. It was like an invisible power was drawing him to her and he couldn't break that connection they shared.

Chase was saying something but she paid no attention. All she could do was look back, her gaze never wavering from his expressive blue eyes.

He hates that feeling he gets every time he is around her. He feels helpless… like there is nothing he can do to get away from her. He also hates the tinge of jealousy and possessiveness every time he sees her with another guy.

He desperately wants to make these feelings go away, make them disappear but whatever he does he just can't do it.

He wants to get her out of his system…

The only problem is that he doesn't know the way how. And he has started to hate himself for that too.

There is only one option left… One that it is either going to save him or destroy him.

His hold around the glass he is holding tightens; his eyes remain locked on the door.

He wants to be sure that this is his only way because after that there is going to be no way back.

He doesn't realize with how much force he is holding his glass until he hears it shatter in the palm of his hand.

He curses under his breath, feeling the pain shooting through his right hand and he drops the broken glass on the floor.

The blood drips from his hand to his thigh as he rests it there, sipping through the material of his jeans.

He studies the cut for a few moments and with a sigh he decides that he needs some help cleaning it up.

He grabs his cane that is resting on the floor next to his chair and heads for the ER. He knows she is there, he has memorized her shifts.

Not that he intended to do so, it just happened. Or at least that's what he says to himself...

He walks slowly to the elevators and pushes the button for the ER. Once he reaches his destination he finds her next to a bed, checking on a sleeping patient.

She turns away and her eyes connect immediately with his and then she sees the blood on his jeans just above his right thigh.

He immediately sees the fear and concern in her beautiful green-blue eyes.

"House what happened to you?" she asks and she can't hide the panic from her voice as she moves at once next to him in order to check him.

"Unclench Cameron, it's just my hand…" he explains and lifts up his right hand in order to show it to her.

She seems a little relaxed but the worry remains in her eyes.

"What happened?" she demands to know and he is taken a little aback by her tone but he doesn't say anything.

"I broke a glass, happy?" he asks sarcastically.

He can tell that she is angry with him now, angry that he scared her like that but he can't help himself from answering that way.

She looks intently into his eyes and for a moment he thinks that she can see straight to his soul so he looks away.

Without saying anything she places her hand on his bicep and leads him to a bed where she motions for him to sit down.

He decides that it isn't a good time to disagree with her so he sits down and hooks his cane at the edge of the bed.

She takes his hand in her smaller one and studies the cut. Although she is angry with him her touch is soft, delicate. His eyes are glued on the cut on his hand and he is trying to ignore the warm sensation he feels because of her proximity.

He curses under his breath for letting himself feel things like this just when her left hand traces the outline of the cut and she immediately pulls back, thinking that she hurt him.

"It's gonna need stitches…" she announces, never meeting his eyes.

"Oh goody!" he replies sarcastically and she glares at him.

"Maybe if you used your brain this wouldn't have happened." She states and before he can answer she is walking away from him in order to bring what she needs to clear the cut and stitch it.

She returns a few moments later with everything she needs and he studies the equipment with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" she asks when she sees what he is doing.

"I don't want stitches! How am I going to hold my cane?" he asks incredulously.

"You have two hands House. You can use it with your left one which, by the way, it's the correct one." She says and he frowns.

"I don't wanna…" he states childishly and he crosses his arms in front of his chest leaving a blood stain on his t-shirt.

"Damn it!" he swears and looks down at his t-shirt.

"That was one of my favorites!" he pouts and she just raises an eyebrow.

She extends her left hand and with a sigh he rests his right one on top of hers.

He keeps flinching when the antiseptic makes contact with the wound and she glares at him.

"Will you stop acting like a five year old?" she asks in frustration.

"But it hurts mommy." He replies in a high pitched tone making her roll her eyes.

"Just stay still… Or I'll send you to nurse Brenda." She threatens and he looks at her suspiciously.

"You are bluffing…" he accuses, raising an eyebrow.

"Try me." She shoots back, making a frown appear on his face again.

He stays still after that, not wanting to risk it and he just observes her as she tends to his wound.

She is careful, very thorough. Her touch is gentle although he knows that she is still angry at him for scaring her.

"God House, you are an idiot…" she mumbles as she continues cleaning the cut on his hand.

"Still think that I'm God?" he asks with a smirk but he can tell that she is not amused.

"Why did you do it this time?" she asks, lifting her head in order to look into his eyes.

He stays silent, just looking into her eyes. There are times that she still can't take his stare but she is not going to back down now. Her eyes never leave his. It's like an unofficial battle; the one who is going to back down first loses.

This time he is going to be the one to lose because he can't hold her gaze for any longer. He thinks that if he continues looking into the green-blue depths of her eyes he will see something that he can't bear or that he is going to give away something that she mustn't know.

So he looks away first…

When he sees her reaching for the needle he pulls back a little.

"You know what? I'm fine, I don't need stitches." He says surely and her hand wraps around his wrist firmly.

She stares at him with a look that says that if he moves he is going to regret it so he sits back down and lets her finish what she started.

She tries not to hurt him although she really wants to slap him for doing that to himself. Sometimes she thinks that he is chasing death, testing to find the limits and see how far he can go. The fact that infuriates her the most is that he is doing that to himself.

And she is afraid… afraid that there will be a time when he won't be able to cheat death like he has done so many times in the past. Afraid that one time he is going to pass the limits. She hates the fact that she still cares about him in this way but she can't help it…

His eyes have moved to her face, studying her as she works on his hand. They scan her face, trying to find out what she is thinking and if she is contemplating something about him.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, unable to hold the question before it leaves his lips.

She doesn't dare to look up, afraid that he is going to discover every thought just by looking into her eyes.

"I need to dress the cut too." She says and he looks at her intently.

Definitely not what she was thinking… he thinks as he looks at her.

"Look at me." He says seriously and although she hesitates at the beginning she lifts her eyes to meet his.

She is trying to hide any feeling from her eyes but she knows that she can't keep everything from him. By the look in his eyes she knows that he has seen something so she looks away before he can see anything more.

Her hand still holds his and she busies herself with the cut in order to avoid his gaze.

"I'm going to put a gauze around it and you are ready to go." She says and even she is surprised by the steadiness of her voice.

He nods and then watches her as she walks away and returns some time later.

She dresses the cut and studies her work for a moment or two before releasing his hand from her grasp.

"You can leave." She says without looking at him and starts to walk away but his hand circling her wrist stops her.

She sighs and turns around in order to look at him, a questioning look in her eyes.

"What were you thinking?" he asks again, looking intently at her.

She takes her time and just looks at him for a few moments before she answers.

"It's none of your business." She states confidently making him frown.

His hand still holds her wrist and he refuses to let go. He wants to figure this out but at the same time he is afraid to do so. At the same time he knows that if he continues this thing he will never get her out of his system.

"Can I have my hand back?" she asks and catches his attention again.

He drops her hand like he was burnt and grabs his cane.

He starts to walk away when her voice stops him.

"House…"

He turns around to look at her again and she sighs.

"Stop doing this… please…" she says in a low tone and he can sense the defeat in her tone.

He remembers that same sentence coming from her and he can't help the slight shiver that runs down his spine.

Without waiting for his answer she turns around and walks away leaving him behind watching her.

He knows that nothing good will come if he goes after her so he just walks back into his office.

He grabs his jacket and keys and although he knows that riding the bike with a stitched hand is a stupid thing to do but he does it anyway.

It was a rainy day, the road is slippery and his hand is in so much pain that he finds it hard to focus. So he isn't too surprised when he loses control of the bike and he finds himself on the asphalt…