DISCLAIMER: House and its characters are the property of FOX. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: Lucky Thirteen (S5E5).

When You and I Collide
By Babydykecate



Her eyes weight upon Thirteen's skin. It's not that she's judging her. Sure she's surprised to find Thirteen's latest conquest wheeled before her on a gurney, but she doesn't judge the procession of women that Thirteen's been taking to bed lately. It's not pity. Others may mistake Cameron to be soft, but it's her empathy that causes her to be incapable of abandoning anyone in need. For anyone around her to be in pain, pains her too.

That's the problem, actually. Cameron knows Thirteen is in pain, and now she watches Thirteen closely, desperate to help. Thirteen feels exposed, the previous hours she spent in self-destruction laid bare for the world to see. Her head throbs, and the hard light of the hospital only adds to the pain. She longs for an escape. If only she could go back to her apartment and drink a little more, just enough to allow her an almost peaceful sleep. Or if she had a different case, one with anonymous face. She could run lab tests and lose herself in the rhythm of the science. Except that damn lab was where she got her death sentence. A hospital was a terrible place to work when you're dying. She's surrounded by sickness and dying. When the patients end up living, it only serves to make her feel worse that she can't.


Cameron's eyes narrow as Thirteen walks into the hospital, her hangover and withdrawal painfully obvious. Cameron moves to block Thirteen , and Thirteen tries to brush past her. Cameron's hand wraps around her wrist.

"No," Cameron says sternly, "Come with me."

Cameron drags Thirteen down the Clinic hall, and into an exam room. She sits Thirteen on the table.

"Stay put," Cameron orders before leaving the room.

She returns with an IV, her eyes meeting Thirteen's. Thirteen lays back on the table and holds out her arm.


Cameron watches them through the glass. Thirteen curled against the patient, their hands intertwined. Cameron can't help feeling it should be her lying next to Thirteen. She hates herself for being jealous of a dying girl, for despising the connection they have.


Thirteen fights between coughing and throwing up, her body overloaded by drugs, beer and fear. Being alone again with her death sentence, fear and loneliness had hit her like a freight train. She clutches the rim of the toilet, trying to steel her nerves. Finally the wave of nausea passes, and she leaves the stall. She finds Cameron waiting for her with a wet paper towel. Thirteen takes it, avoiding Cameron's eyes. Neither one of them speaks.


Cameron watches Thirteen lure one girl after another from her car. Call it worry or desire, she knows it's still a little stalker-ish. Cameron's tired of being the one who's always there, but never noticed. And She's fed up with watching Thirteen self destruct.


Thirteen's fingers glide across the girl's arm.

"Let me buy you a drink," Thirteen says with a cocky smile.

Blonde hair flutters as the girl turns to face her.

"Cameron?" Thirteen asks shocked.

"Just a water for me, and for you," Cameron says with a soft smile. Her smile turns seductive, "Or we could just go to your place now."

"I'm not really thirsty anyway," Thirteen replies quickly.


Cameron traces patterns on Thirteen's stomach, waiting for her to wake up. Thirteen wakes up surprised and fighting giggles. Cameron silences her with a kiss.

Cameron leans over Thirteen, pinning her down. "You were an idiot to think you were alone," she chastises with a smile.

"I can see that," Thirteen smiles back.

The End

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