#[h]ouse

[houseswife]

people who aren’t in the house md fandom assume that the batshit craziness of these plotlines starts and ends with the old man yaoi and the malpractice. you all think you understand? [grabs you by the face] listen to me closely. these patients specifically seek out house because he’s known as the capital-G God of diagnostics. on MULTIPLE occasions someone has come in with seizures, coughing up blood, in multi-system organ failure and the team is like “it says here in the chart that you’ve had sex before?… yeah so we have concluded that ur allergic to cum :/ sorry.” and then are genuinely shocked when their treatment of “no more taking big fat loads from peanis” doesn’t reverse sepsis. this is a medical drama. about medical mysteries

[lepusrufus]

In case you're wondering what I've been up to

Dragons

The answer is dragons

[malpracticemd]

the best thing about house is that you go in expecting it to just be another medical drama but then it's just 8 seasons of a toxic homoerotic relationship between two older men and it's the funniest thing ever

[softblesses]

Aussie in Denial.

Characters: R/obert C/hase, F/oreman, C/ameron, H/ouse & W/ilson.

Word Count: 4k.

CW: snz, general illness.

Part 1/2. Enjoy! :)

Chase stepped inside the hospital doors, thankful to be out of the rain. So much for the seasons changing and Spring finally being around the corner… it was days like this that he missed the warmth back home. It had seemed dry and not too cloudy when he left, but halfway across the parking lot and the heavens had literally opened. 

He pushed his dampened bangs from his eyes, calling the elevator button and scrunching his nose. A shiver caused his body to jolt slightly, moments before the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. He wasn’t too early, but the room upstairs was empty when he walked in… weird. Maybe he would have had time to get something warm to drink after all, yet before he could have second thoughts about turning around to do just that, both Foreman and Cameron walked in. 

“Didn’t bring an umbrella?” Cameron teased as a greeting, noting her colleague’s wet hair and damp jacket, the man was now shrugging off to replace it with his lab coat. 

Chase was about to retort when a sudden sensation in the back of his sinuses took over. He turned, lab coat still draped over his forearm, and stifled three quiet sneezes against his wrist. ‘n’ggtt, he’chmPpt!, kxXxcht.’ Giving a little shake as if to reboot himself afterwards, turning back again with a couple of sharp sniffles. 

“Bless you,” Cameron’s eyebrows raised, whilst Chase forgot all about the retort and simply pulled on his white coat. 

The trio took their seats around the table, awaiting House’s arrival by taking a look through the case files that were already on the table. Chase shrugged his white coat on, tugging it tight around himself with a shiver. He was freezing, and he definitely hated American winters. He pressed a knuckle against his septum whilst trying to read, hoping to stave off the itchiness that was making its way through his sinuses. He sniffled a few times, the chill from the rain not wanting to go away. 

As if the universe hated him, Chase couldn’t hold the need to sneeze any longer, just as his Boss limp-waltzed in through the door. He pressed his lab coat sleeve against his face, stifling two more sneezes. 

‘HhU’mppPchH, h’eiIi’cHhhH.’ Exhaling shakily afterwards, and sniffling as he slowly removed his arm. 

“Is that an Australian greeting?” House quipped, taking a seat and making a point to move his chair far from Chase’s. 

“Bless you,” Cameron whispered, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just… It’s really cold outside.” He shrugged it off, hoping she’d leave it there and stop asking questions. 

He managed to get through the majority of the differential with only a few well-timed sniffles, a couple of teasing remarks from House and no (thank God) more comments about his health. 

“Cameron, take Sniffles to the patient’s apartment and look for anything environmental that could be causing her symptoms. Foreman will do the big boy jobs today.” House waved his cane in the direction of each employee he was talking about, and Chase stood up, ignoring the slight heat on his cheeks. 

“You know,” Cameron began, as they made their way to the elevator, “it’s okay to admit if you don’t feel well.”

“Okay,” Chase answered, pressing the elevator button with his knuckle, “and that would be relevant to me if I didn’t feel well. I’m Australian, I despise this weather, and so does my nose.” He sniffles, as if to prove a point. 

“Alright, well… soon we’ll be in my car and I’ll make sure the heater is on.”

Chase smiled a little as the elevator doors came to a close, “Thank you.” He murmured. 

•••

“The sun’s coming back out!” Cameron’s attempt to cheer up the grumpy Aussie wasn’t working, and at the moment, she was putting it mostly down to the weather outside, just like he’d said himself. Yet, by now he’d had plenty of time to warm up now and blow his nose, yet he was still sniffling every now and then, and clearing his throat after he spoke. 

“You quit medicine and became a weather forecaster?” The blonde quipped, unbuckling his seatbelt as they parked up by the curb. 

“What’s got you so upset this morning? It can’t just be the —“

��Hei’mMpchh!’ Another stifled sneeze against the back of his wrist, and Chase scrubbed at his nose to prevent the second one from threatening to escape afterwards. 

“Oh. You’re sick. I get it now.” She smirked a little smugly, stepping out of the car. 

‘HHHhh’aAnn’tchu! Ugh. Fuck.’

“I’m not sick.” He eventually answered matter-of-factly, slamming the car door behind him and following her up to the house. People can sneeze and not be sick. That was a thing. 

As she looked around for a key, Chase swiped at his nose with one of the tissues he’d stuffed in his pocket before they left. He wasn’t wearing a jacket since his was still drying back at the hospital, and Cameron noticed him shiver in her peripherals. 

“Well, you’re gonna get sick dressed in just a shirt and sweater vest. Your jacket wasn’t dry enough?”

“Excuse me for not wanting to put on damp clothes.” He sniffed, scrunching his nose. 

She giggled, going back to her search a moment after. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, seriously, what is it? My plight funny to you, or something?”

“Nothing, it’s just — ha! — You act like a golden retriever sometimes. Or, maybe a bunny, with the little nose scrunches.” Cameron grins, holding up the key she’d found mid-sentence. 

Chase just huffed in response, waiting for her to unlock the door. “Very funny.” He muttered, following in after her. 

The pair took separate rooms to look around in, not coming up with much in the hour or so that they spent there. All they really found out was that the patient liked to read gossip magazines (like, a lot of them), scented candles, and sometimes took aspirin for what she’d already admitted was for migraines. 

“C’mon, let’s just get what we have back to the lab.” Cameron sighed, carrying a few clear bags of some food samples and some of the candle wax in case the patient had some sort of allergy to the brand she was using. 

Chase coughed slightly, struggling to take off his gloves as they walked toward the front door together. 

‘Hhh’huu’ishhHoo! Ugh. Hh’mptkkch.’ He held his gloved hand over his face, managing to suppress the last one to be quieter than the first. Not that it was even loud. 

“Bless you!” Cameron called out, now a little further ahead of him and waiting halfway down the pathway. 

Once he locked up the house and caught up with her, Chase could practically feel her stare burning into him. He was fine, and yet Cameron’s entire personality was built upon worrying about people. 

He sniffled as they got into the car, unable to clear his sinuses still. It was driving him crazy, and he was aware just how frustrating somebody constantly sniffling could be.  

“Sorry,” Chase muttered, buckling himself in. “You got any tissues?” 

“Uh… yeah, in my purse on the back seat. One second.” She reached behind her, grabbing the bag and rooting around for a few seconds before handing him a little packet of travel tissues. “Here.” Her voice softened. 

“Cheers,” Chase muttered, feeling warmth creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. He wiped at his nose slightly, blowing it softly, before pocketing it in his trousers. 

The rest of the drive back was mostly quiet, as Cameron decided it was best to leave him be for now. He was clearly embarrassed by his affliction by some reason. Men were… strange creatures, and sometimes Chase was even worse. 

When they pulled into the parking lot, her mouth opened to say something, but upon glancing over to the passenger's seat, she noticed that Chase was asleep. He was asleep, snoring a little, with his forehead against the window and a small circle of condensation forming where he was breathing through his mouth. 

“Chase?” Cameron whispered, despite not wanting to wake him; House wouldn’t be pleased if he found out they were back late because Chase needed a nap. “Chase, wake up, we’re here.” She reached out to gently shake his shoulder, and he startled awake with a sharp intake of breath. 

He rubbed a hand across his face and straightened, rolling his neck. “I didn’t sleep great last night,” he murmured, watching as she stared at him. 

“Sure,” Cameron smiled slightly, moving to get out of the car. 

Chase hurried after her, a frown on his face now. “What, you don’t believe me? You still trying to diagnose me with the plague?” 

“The common cold is hardly the plague.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get this stuff to the lab and bicker about your immune system after.”

•••

Cameron was quiet as she focused on the monitors in front of her, scanning the patient’s imaging results for any sign of something wrong while they were being scanned. Chase was beside her, just as quiet, if you didn’t account for the intermittent sniffles. 

They had tested everything from the patient’s house and come up empty, and were now running some other tests for House. 

“I’m no doctor or anything, but I think that the rain did more than stuff your nose this morning. You sound like you’re coming down with a cold.” She murmured, gaze still focused on the screens. 

“You said that. Maybe I’m just allergic to the copious amount of candles the lady has.” He shrugged, keeping his own gaze on the screens. 

“Her scans look clean,” Cameron went back to the topic of the task at hand, before looking over at Chase again. His nose was pink, and his cheeks were starting to flush. She wondered if he had a fever. 

“Mandy, could you hold still? Just a little longer. You’re almost —“ 

‘Hhh’akkiShUu,’

“What was that?”

“That was —“

‘Tt’shiew!’

“… Doctor Chase sneezing. Sorry.” Cameron sighed, pressing her finger on the microphone button again to finally respond.  

“Oh. Bless you. Is he okay?”

“He’s being stubborn, but he’ll live. I’ll come get you out of there now.” Cameron smiled, shaking her head as she stood up. 

The team regrouped in the diagnostics room after the patient was back in her room, most of the members also eating lunch whilst discussing. House wasn’t back yet, most likely stealing Wilson’s lunch in the cafeteria. Foreman and Cameron bounced ideas off of each other, while Chase stared at the mug of tea in front of him. 

“Is he going to admit he’s sick, or is someone gonna have to drag him to a cab and send him home?” Foreman stopped writing on the whiteboard, looking over at their colleague with raised eyebrows. 

“I’m fine,” Chase snapped, picking up the mug to take a sip. His voice was noticeably congested now, cheeks pink and deep down he knew he couldn’t really hide it anymore. But, maybe if he told them to leave it again and again… they’d just drop it and be quiet. He could work through a cold, anyway. It really was no big deal. 

“You can’t even pronounce your m’s or n’s.” Foreman chuckled, his teasing put to a temporary stop as their boss walked into the room. 

He walked straight towards the door that led to the balcony and pushed it open. 

“Wouldn’t want any germs to fester in here, now, would we?” He limped back over to the whiteboard, briefly examining what his team had come up with whilst he was gone. 

“House, close the door,” Chase chimed in, wrapping his (now dry) jacket tighter around himself. 

“If I close the door, then where are all the icky, little germs going to go?” House pouted, looking in the other’s direction. 

“It’s just a cold, I’m sure you’ll live.”

“Oh, so you’ll admit you’re sick to House, but not us?”

“Nothing can be hidden from the God of diagnostics. He knows better.” House turned back to the board, ignoring the muffled coughs coming from behind him. 

“House, c’mon, he’s shivering.” Cameron’s voice of reason broke through, but her boss was intent on finishing their next round of discussions with the door wide open and the fresh air very present in the room. 

Chase didn’t say anything else on the matters, only added his opinion on the case, tried to suppress his shivers and clenched his jaw so that his teeth didn’t chatter. 

“Alright, God. I’m only shutting the door because I’m worried he’ll freeze, and then we’ll be a team member down. Then we’ll all be going home late and you’ll all be mad.” House huffed, pulling the door shut so hard that the slam caused Chase to jump in his seat. He really wasn’t with it today. 

He muttered a soft, “thanks,” another harsh shiver wracking his body and causing him to wince slightly in pain. 

“Foreman, go do the patient’s echo. McShivers, you should stay away from the patient — go with Cameron to the lab. After all, this  isn’t a cure one get another one free.” House pointed his cane in Chase’s direction, easily noting the hazy pre-sneeze gaze in the blue-eyed man. 

The colleagues walked together without saying a word, but Cameron knew Chase was frustrated. House was making fun of him every chance he got, and he wasn’t able to hide his symptoms well enough to go undetected. Not to mention, he probably felt lousy, despite insisting that he did not. 

Cameron held the door for him before going to fetch the blood samples House wanted them to start testing. Chase took a seat on the stool beside her, pulling on a pair of gloves. 

‘Hhh’chhxXmpt! — dammit — snff. Ha’eiiIshoo. Ow.” He rubbed his forehead with a gloved hand, sniffling for a few seconds. 

“Chase—“

“I have a cold, Cameron. It’s making me sneeze. I can still do my job.” He snapped before she had the chance to say anything, pulling off his gloves and walking away to wash his hands, despite having successfully caught both sneezes into his elbow. 

“I was just going to offer you some tissues, but okay, Mr. Defensive.” She smirked slightly, placing a travel packet where he was sitting, then going back to her tests. 

“Thank you…” He trailed off, looking a little sheepish and taking one of the tissues from the packet. (Then going to wash his hands again, after using it. At least he was hygienic.)

“You shouldn’t keep trying to hold them in,” Cameron continued nonchalantly, eyes focused in the microscope for now. 

“Huh?” 

“Your sneezes. You’ll hurt your head, which I assume is what’s already hurting. And your ears. Did you make them pop?” She hummed, leaning back. “Blood’s negative for parasites.”

“I’m fine. It’s… It’s just habit.” Chase shrugged, checking his notes to see what he needed to start testing for himself. “And, yeah. I have a headache. I’ll get over it.”

They spend an hour down in the lab testing things, some results come back right away, but others they’ll need to wait for. Chase comes and goes in and out of the room, leaning to use the bathroom a couple of times and to blow his nose. They waited for the results down in the lab, still — Cameron figured it was better than going upstairs and having House pick on Chase for longer. 

She watched out of the corner of her eye as her colleague spun on the stool he was sitting on, holding a tissue in one hand and a somewhat chewed pencil in the other. He was always moving; never wanting to be still.  

“I’m gonna go to the vending machine to get a drink, you wanna come?” Cameron wondered if it would be good for him to have something to do. 

It took him a moment to register the words, but he nodded, standing up and stretching both arms above his head. 

“Still tired?” Cameron hummed, walking toward the door. “I can grab you a coffee?”

“Yes—“ ‘heH’ddShhoo’ “— please.” ‘Heii’atShu. Ugh. Fuck. Snff. SNffF.” Chase rubbed incessantly at his nose, fishing another tissue from his lab coat pocket. His cheeks were tinted red from embarrassment. “Sorry… God.”

“Bless you,” Cameron said softly, giving his arm a little pat. “You don’t have to apologise. You’re sick. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s gross.”

“Not really,” she reasoned, “I mean, you and I have definitely seen worse.” The woman smiled, stopping now they were stood in front of the vending machine together. 

“Good point,” Chase scuffed his shoes along the floor, sniffling quietly. 

“One coffee,” Cameron smiled, holding it out to him. “Give me a second, we can sit down — the results won’t be done yet.” She got herself a vitamin drink, and then the pair took a seat on one of the couches in the hallway. 

Chase leaned back slightly against the wall, closing his eyes. Allowing himself a short moment of vulnerability beside Cameron, who thankfully, stayed quiet for the time being. He sipped slowly at his coffee, grateful for the soothing warmth that spread down his throat, and sighed. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” he muttered. 

“You’re only thanking me ‘cause you’re too stuffed up to taste how bad it is.” Cameron giggled slightly, and Chase smiled in response. 

[heuffopla]

Finally watching Amphibia, just got to the season 2 finale and Uumm uuuuh ufhgdhh woah 😦

[softsnzstuff]

Recently did my series rewatch of H/ouse MD and I’d like to publicly state that my brain is a whore for W/ilson and my heart is a whore for H/ouse (and obviously C/hase)

That’s all. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk

[givemedamage]

love being transgender , positivity, blah blah , whatever but i HATE GETTING SWERVED AND SPITROASTED BY CVS AMD PLANNED PARENTHOOD AFTER PAYING COLD HARD CASH FOR A GAY LITTLE APPOINTMENT THAT ALLOWS ME TO BUY FUCKING SYRUP THAT MAKES ME A MAN AND THEN NOT EVEN GETTIGN IT FOR SOME REASONI CANT EVEN CALL MY BITCH ASS 1 STAR RN PROVIDER AND BE LIKE HEYYYYYYYYY WHY IS MY THIGN ON HOLD :333BECAUSE HER NUMBERS JUST THE PP NUMBER AND WHENEVET I CALL THE PHARMACY OR PP ITS LIKE beep boop sorry go fuck yourself GOD

[barryroyco]

can someone please dear god tell me why house calls wilson “bob” in 4x11 when wilson makes fun of him for using their patient’s first name

[snzfanatic]

still not over that there’s a whole episode of house where his allergies are acting up and he’s carrying tissues around

[warraigoe]

real ones know that i've played these games before....

[agoodcupoftea]

So H/ouse has canon hayfever huh?

[malpracticemd]

RIP James Wilson you would've loved Grindr.

[softblesses]

Of Sneezes and Stubbornness.

Fandom: H/ouse M/D.

Characters: C/ameron, C/hase.

Word Count: 1.9k (in this part.)

Parts: 1/3.

‘Hu’ngxt. Heh’nnNn’chH.’

“Robbie?” Allison called, the word muffled since her toothbrush was still in her mouth. 

“Yeah?” He poked his head round the bathroom door, eyebrows raised, shirt still half unbuttoned. 

Cameron spat out her toothpaste, before turning around. “Did you sneeze again?” She questioned fairly nonchalantly, before glancing around for the hair tie she could’ve sworn she just had. 

“… yeah?” He cocked his head to one side, walking fully into the bathroom afterwards and picking up the hairbrush that was settled beside the sink. 

“You okay?” She found the hair tie on the floor, bending down to pick it up. 

Chase nodded, concentrating on buttoning the rest of his shirt. He’d get changed into his scrubs at the hospital. “I always sneeze in the mornings,” he reminded her, giving a cheeky sort of grin before pecking her lips with a kiss. 

“Yeah, but usually it’s only a couple times.” She pouted slightly, and he couldn’t help the soft laugh that fell from his own lips. He was used to that look. 

“Which proves there’s an anomaly to every sneeze pattern, babe. C’mon, we gotta go.”

“Hey, you’re the one who took ages in the shower!”

“Which is why I said we should shower together!” Chase called, from where he was lacing up his trainers in the bedroom. 

“That always ends in sex. Sex makes us even later.” Cameron appeared in the room again, a smirk worn on her face. 

Chase stood up from where he was positioned on the floor, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on. It was Fall season, so there was a crisp chill in the air outside, but the sun was shining and there looked to be no sign of rain. Allison loved this weather. Chase despised anything other than Summer in the States. 

He scrubbed at his nose slightly with the back of his wrist, scrunching it. 

‘HeP’cht. NnNxxgGgt.’

“Babe,” Cameron stood in the doorway waiting for him, hand on hip, frown on her face again. “I told you, you have to stop doing that! You’re sure you’re okay? You don’t get Fall allergies.” She closed the gap between them, looking up at him. He had a dazed sort of look on his face, that turned into a lopsided grin after a few sniffles. 

“I’m fine. And, it’s just —“

“— a habit. I know. But, you’re here with me and you don’t have to hide anything! Unless… you’re trying not to get caught out.” Her eyebrows raised in accusation, but Chase only shook his head in amusement. 

“I’m fine, baby. Just… I dunno. It’s probably my nose thinking about going outside in the cold.” He shrugged, taking her hand so that they could walk out to her car. 

“You sure you’re a Doctor, ‘cause that doesn’t sound like a medical explanation to me.” Cameron laughed. 

“Hey!”

•••

Their car journey went like it usually did, with idle chatter and quiet bickering of which radio station to listen to. Cameron talked about work, and what they were going to be doing that day, and Chase pointed out birds he saw through the window and laughed at a little kid falling over. It’s not evil if the kid is fine!

They fell into a lull of silence as she searched for somewhere to park at the hospital, jumping slightly as Chase sneezed again beside her, slightly high-pitched and thankfully it must’ve surprised him, so also un-stifled.  

‘Hei’diSSsshoo!’

“Bless you twice,” she hummed, a few seconds before the second sneeze came. 

“Thank y—Tttshiew! You. snFF.’

Cameron giggled, parking up the car. “There’s tissues in the dash,” she murmured, momentarily checking her appearance in the wing mirror, before turning to check on her partner. He seemed okay, brushing his blonde bangs from his eyes and ridding his temporary congestion with two sharp sniffles. 

“Do I get brownie points for those?” Chase batted his eyelashes, before unbuckling his seatbelt. 

“What, for not stifling? Sure, sure. And what do those brownie points add up to, huh?” Cameron laughed, climbing out of the car and waiting for him there. 

“Uh, sex?” He joined her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Obviously.”

“Uh, no. Not if you’re getting sick!” She started to walk ahead of him, ignoring the slight whine coming from behind her at that reply. 

“I’m not, Allison! I’m fine!” He caught up with her. Maybe even bargaining with himself, too, as his throat was sore and his head had a faint ache behind his eyes. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you later, babe.” She smiled, kissing him once at the doors of the hospital, before heading into the locker room to put her things away. 

He put away and grabbed his own things quickly, giving her one last peck on the cheek before taking his scrubs to change into up on the surgery floor. Today would be fine, it really was probably just the weather. 

•••

They didn’t meet up again until lunch, which was like a typical day now that they were both away from the diagnostics department. Cameron was waiting in line with a tray, ordering her food when Chase snuck up behind her. Although, she already knew he was there. 

“Guess who?”

“Huh. Australian… congested… slightly long hair falling into my face. Oh, it’s Dr. Chase!” She turned, leaning to kiss his lips and pretending not to notice how he moved just the right amount so that she’d get his cheek instead. 

“I’m not congested,” Chase pouted, and then cringed slightly at the sound of his own voice. She was right, he was congested. Granted, he’d come straight up from the OR, without time to blow his nose yet. “Okay, maybe a little bit.” He admitted in defeat. 

“Hey, could you grab me some fries and I’ll be right back?” He asked afterwards, already aware of the sensation that his nose was close to running against his upper lip. 

“Sure.” Cameron agreed softly, watching him go. 

He got back within just over five minutes, carrying a takeout cup that Cameron imagined has coffee in, but hoped for his sake that it’s tea. And, she also correctly assumes he went to blow his nose, because he sounded a little better and his nose looked redder, too. 

“Thanks, babe.” Chase noticed the fries, pulling the plate towards him and eating one in just two bites.  

“How was surgery?” Cameron asked next, making light conversation. Not pointing out the obvious just yet. 

“It was alright,” Chase began, eating another fry, “had a couple that I was scheduled for, then scrubbed in on an emergency appendectomy. Pretty easy, thankfully.” 

He sniffled, taking a long drink from his cup. Cameron could smell the coffee beans. 

“How’s the ER?” He shook some hair from his eyes, and she noticed he looked tired. 

“It’s okay… pretty busy.” She couldn’t help herself, wanting to say something to him about how he clearly was not feeling great. But, apparently, Chase was going to prove that for her. 

Cameron watched as he froze for a moment, pulled his elbow up to his face and stifled two sneezes. 

‘Hh’uU’xxkt. Hh’eitshHmppt!’ He lowered his elbow after the second one, sniffling and wearing a sheepish sort of expression. 

“Bless you,” she sighed, “you’re sick. I told you.” Pointing her fork at him in an accusatory manner. 

Sniffle. Sniffle. “I’m not!” Chase knew it was no use. He knew he was sick, although still quietly in denial about it, himself. His throat felt awful, his headache had bloomed into a full on sinus ache now, and his ears and nose were horribly stuffed up. It was probably only going to get worse. 

“Don’t insult my years of medical training, Robert.” She warned jokingly, sporting a half smile. 

“I might… be getting a small cold. But, I’m still fine. Mostly. Ish. You know what I mean.” He huffed, and used his fries as an excuse to stop talking about it for the moment. 

“Small or not, your patients won’t be happy if you sneeze on them. Or in them.” Cameron smirked. 

“I’m not going to sneeze on, or in my patients. I’m not written in for anymore surgeries this afternoon, just a couple of consults and a pile of paperwork that could rival the height of the… damn Sydney Opera House.” Chase huffed again, then reached for a napkin to wipe his runny nose. 

“Remind me to stop by the store later. I’ll get you some of those tissues with lotion — you’re going to rub your nose raw! I’m pretty sure I have tissues in my purse. I can go grab them for you?” She offered, a small pout forming. 

He looked at her over the napkin, sniffed once and pocketed it. A quizzical expression on his face. “Those exist?” He asked first, then, “It’s fine. I’ll grab them before my consult, don’t worry. Don’t give me the super sad my patient is dying eyes, either.”

“I’m not!” She leaned back, folding her arms. 

“I love you, but… you’re looking at me with pity. I’m gonna be fine.” He chuckled, downing some more coffee. 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Cameron stood, pressing a kiss to the top of his blonde locks. “I’ll see you in a little while. Don’t do anything exceedingly stupid like overwork yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” 

•••

She didn’t get a moment to herself for the next couple of hours, but when there was a short lull in ER activity, Cameron made her way to the Doctor’s lounge in search of her boyfriend. Pushing the door open, she found that the lights were switched off, blinds closed and that Chase was lying on the couch. So much for doing the mountain of paperwork. 

“Chase?” She whispered softly, walking over to him.  

“I’m not asleep,” he sounded like the congested had fully started to settle in now, and a little raspy too, “I’m just resting my eyes. My head hurts. There’s too many words on the papers.” 

Cameron laughed. “I think that’s the point, babe. Did you take anything?”

“Tylenol, about fifteen minutes ago.”

“It’s almost three, you know you could go home early?” Her suggestion had Chase sitting up in seconds, causing Cameron to roll her eyes. 

“Nah, I really need to get these papers done. Tylenol should be about to kick in.” He rubbed his eyes, taking a minute to recover from sitting up so fast. 

She walked over to the light switch, hovering her index finger over it. “Brace yourself, Robbie.” There was a slightly teasing theme to her tone, before she turned on the light. 

“Oh, no…” he groaned, covering his face with his elbow yet again. 

‘HH’eSSHhhu! Hah’eiiI’chu! Fuck me.’ Chase mumbled, ‘snff. Snff. SNFFff. God, owww. Ngggh.’

“Bless you. You okay?” Cameron immediately made her way to his side, passing him the packet of travel tissues from her pocket — she knew he’d forget to stop by her locker, so she’d taken the matters into her own hand. 

Nodding, Chase wiped at his nose. 

“You look a little flushed,” she hummed softly, sitting down beside him. Reaching to press a lingering kiss to his forehead, which he found himself leaning into without even realising. “You’re warm, babe.”

“‘M okay.” Chase mumbled, “I really gotta get this stuff done. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” He sounded a lot more crestfallen than his previous attempts to quell her worries, and all Cameron wanted to do was cuddle him then and there. But, unfortunately they both had work to do. 

“Just stay hydrated, okay? And try go home early, please? For me?”

“No promises, but I’ll see how  fast I can get this stuff done.”

“Love you.”

Chase smiled. “Love you too.”

[sleptwithinthesun]

bet you thought it was dead. a little allergy story for the h/ouse m/d TS AU (roo anon, i am looking at you & i hope you're doing okay since i've not seen you around in a bit). enjoy 2.3K of sneezy chase and maybe a bit of insight into the AU version of c/ameron :)

Cameron, in a perfect world, might feel safe in a car with Chase.

The key word there being might. It doesn't really matter how perfect said world may be, because, simply put, Chase is a terrible driver. Cameron doesn't know how much of it is because of his Tourette's and how much of it is because he's from Australia and used to driving on the other side of the road, but she's genuinely unsure how Chase even passed his driving test. If she remembers correctly, there are multiple neurological conditions that should disqualify someone from operating a motor vehicle, Tourette's syndrome included, and yet, she's currently clinging to her seat as if she's going to die.

It's not really that bad. Chase, generally speaking, is fine on the road. Occasionally, however, one specific tic will kick in and force him to wiggle or jerk the steering wheel for a solid handful of seconds before he's able to regain control over himself. She's pretty sure that he loathes it even more than she does, judging by the sheepish, albeit annoyed and frustrated, expression that crosses his face whenever it happens.

"The house is just down this street, right?"

Chase's voice manages to pierce through her thoughts, soft and embarrassed still, considering that he'd last jerked the steering wheel nearly three minutes ago, on a drive that's twenty minutes, at most. He's due for another soon—Cameron still doesn't know the rhythm of Chase's tics quite yet, but they have a tendency to come out more whenever he tries to hold them back—and she can tell he's hoping to arrive before it happens once again.

"Yeah, on the left," she responds. "It's pretty far down the street, though, so—"

Before she can finish her sentence, Chase's throat moves, a hum bullying its way out of him. His head ducks, and he peers up through his bangs as best he can as the car shakes beneath them. Cameron still hasn't gotten used to the feeling, is used to being in control, and squeezes her eyes shut for the extra two seconds it takes for the tic to release its hold on the wheel.

The hum morphs into a grunt as Chase manages to straighten out the steering wheel again, an apology slipping out beneath it. Cameron nods her forgiveness, and says, "One more... right here."

He stops on the street and steps out of the car as soon as it's parked and the engine is off, ticcing sharply in the way that driving refuses to let him. Head jerking, eyes blinking, their pace somehow unhurried and simultaneously frantic; it's clear that Chase can't hold them back any longer, from how tense his shoulders were during the last couple of minutes and the force with which he's ticcing now that he can.

They never talk about it. Cameron doesn't know if it's her or Chase who doesn't know how to.

As her coworker pulls himself back together, Cameron starts toward the house. It's standard for the majority of their patients; two-story, white picket fence, small backyard. It's perfect for a nuclear family, but there's a noticeable lack of outdoor décor, even with the space clearly marked out for it. Their window planters are empty, the pot on the front doorstep full of light, dry soil, the kind that's basically sand.

Behind her, Chase groans softly as a joint—probably his neck, knowing his tics—pops, and Cameron winces in sympathy without looking back at him. Of course, she's okay with him ticcing. It's just... uncomfortable to see, at times. "Not even a leaf," she comments, hoping to distract him, keeping him moving.

"Where?" he asks, one half of his face screwed up in a grimace. God, why is it so hard for him today? Usually, Chase can keep himself controlled enough to pass as somewhat normal, maybe someone with a handful of nervous tics and habits, not full-blown Tourette's; he's never quite been the twitching, jerking mess that he is right now. His shoulders roll like there's something boiling beneath his skin, like it wants to get out.

"In the planters. They have plenty of them, but nothing's growing," Cameron says. "Something environmental, maybe."

He walks up to her side, now, body slightly calmer but still firing off. "Is it—ngh—is it worth taking soil samples, do you think?"

"I don't know." She walks forward, lifts up the pot in search of a key. It's there, dirty, clearly long unused, and she tugs her gloves on before picking it up.

The interior of the house is nothing spectacular, in neither a good nor a bad way. It's fairly neat and clean while not being overly so, and with an appropriate level of disarray for a family of four; Cameron immediately starts toward the kitchen, and Chase, the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, there's nothing there, just a couple of dirty dishes, and a cursory look underneath the sink informs her that the family has nothing more than the usual household cleaners. There is a bottle of CLR, though, which Cameron will have to ask them about. She's not aware of any hard water issues, but she'll have to check on this specific neighborhood. 

There's a slight motion to her right, and Cameron startles, not having heard Chase approach the kitchen. When her eyes land on the source of the movement, though, her gaze immediately softens and she can feel a smile cross her face. 

It's a cat. A kitten, really, with enormous eyes and patched calico fur. Immediately upon being spotted, she mews plaintively, moving fast as she begins padding toward Cameron, followed by winding around her ankles. She's young, clearly, and probably hungry. 

"Hey, girl," Cameron murmurs, standing up to go and find Chase. She's not heard anything from him, so he might have moved on to another room. The cat trails after her; if they come across her food, Cameron will make sure to feed her.

Chase is in the son's bedroom when he finds him, nose scrunching repeatedly in a tic as he goes through the content of the kid's desk. "Find anything?" she asks.

"Not yet," he responds. "There's really not much here. Homework, what I think is a journal, couple of rahhndom print-outs..." The snag in his voice is followed by a couple of head jerks in rapid succession, and Chase gives his usual two-note hum afterward. "I did find a, uh, pet's bowl out in the hallway, although I've seen no sign of an animal. Did they have a pet that died recent..." His gaze catches on the cat, his eyes go wide, and Cameron swears that she can see him flinch.

"Don't like cats?" she questions mildly, a single eyebrow raised. There's no way.

"Not particularly, no." Chase doesn't step any closer, instead resolutely ignoring the feline. "Did you find anything?"

Cameron finally enters the room, the cat following her and happily bounding over to Chase, exploring the other new person. His head tips back violently in a tic, followed by his shoulders jerking upward. Stress does make them worse, Cameron is aware, but unless Chase was genuinely traumatized by cats as a child, then he'll be fine.

"There was a bottle of CLR under the sink, but nothing else notable. No drugs, prescription or OTC, besides an iron supplement. No mold. Nothing rotten in the fridge. No—are you okay?"

"Fine," Chase grits out, despite the fact that his shoulder is jerking repeatedly upward and he's close to hitting himself in the chin with the heel of his palm. "hih'hH'shh!" The sneeze is small, as contained as he can make it when his arms won't cooperate.

"Bless you."

"Get out," Chase snipes immediately, then, more quietly, "sorry. Tic."

"It's okay."

It's not as if Cameron would know what else to say. She's concerned; Chase was already ticcing a fair amount earlier, but he seems worse now. The cat seems alarmed by his erratic movements, and Chase doesn't seem any more comfortable with himself than she does, now stuck in one of those tics that make his body tense to the point where he grimaces in pain. If she remembers correctly, the last time she had seen him get anywhere close to this bad was just before Chase had fled the conference room and had a tic attack.

"God, f-f-f-fuck me," Chase mutters, then sneezes again. "ESH'huh!"

Cameron steps forward, her concern rising. "Bless you, again."

"You're going to—hey!—get sick of—of say—of saying that," he says, wry, sardonic smile on his lips before he grimaces, eyes screwing up and expression pained. His tics aren't relentless, but their pace certainly isn't giving him any breaks.

Then, it clicks.

"You're allergic to cats," Cameron realizes aloud, and Chase nods before attempting to duck into his elbow. It works, but a tic surfaces in the other arm as he curls in on himself. "Can you even breathe?" she asks worriedly, staring down at him. That one shoulder is jerking erratically, and he's sneezing by now, but it sounds oddly broken up.

"ksH!-sh-sh-sh—"

The breathing tic. The one that forces his breath out, it's cutting into his sneezes and forcing out a whole rapid string of them, instead of just a single one.

"—sh-sh-sH-sh'uh!"

Chase gasps when he's done, inhaling desperately, and Cameron wastes no more time in grabbing him by the arm and dragging him back downstairs and outside, getting him away from the cat. Chase sinks down into a squat on the lawn, like he's doing his best to physically limit his tics by virtue of position. To his credit, it's working. Somewhat. Not really. It seems nearly torturous for his head to be jerking to the side while he's in the middle of a sneezing fit, but Chase is dealing.

"Do you have antihistamines in your car?"

"I... hR'SHh'uh! I wish I did—ESH'uu!"

"Christ, bless you," she murmurs. "Come on, we have what we need. Let's just get back to the hospital and get you some allergy meds."

Chase nods, and then shakes his head in a tic a moment later. Cameron doesn't understand exactly why they're so bad right now; he'd been alright a couple of minutes earlier. "Give me a second," Chase forces out, then immediately shouts "Get out!" loudly enough to startle Cameron.

It's just a tic, she reminds herself. Chase really is not the yelling type of person; he's passive-aggressive, much preferring to dance around any issue until it blows up in his face. All the same, she steps back, trying to give Chase a bit of space as he attempts to pull himself under control, but it's a losing battle. As the moments pass, he just seems to become even more frustrated with himself, and as a result, the ticcing gets worse.

It gets bad enough that, after only another minute, Cameron has to speak up. "Chase?"

"h'hih'SSH'uh! ESHH'uu!" He's just barely able to spare a glance at her before another tic seizes his neck and shoves his head to the side, eliciting a soft, pained noise from him.

"Would it help if I waited in the car?" she asks softly, hoping that removing herself from the situation entirely might help him out.

"Ple-e-eas-s-se," he stutters, and then a second later, he sneezes again. By now, they've deviated from his usual pattern of two sneezes into a near-relentless assault, coming every handful of seconds. Cameron can hear Chase gradually becoming more and more congested as the allergy attack persists, and she can only hope that the reaction will taper off soon.

So, to give him a moment of peace, she retreats, heading back to Chase's little sedan and settling into the driver's seat. It's not as if Chase is going to be able to drive in his current state, so Cameron doesn't think much of it.

The more she wonders about Chase, however, the more she finds their whole situation a bit ridiculous, honestly. They're grown-ups. Adults. But here Chase is, acting like an allergy attack is something to be embarrassed over. And yes, Cameron understands that his Tourette's makes it difficult for him, but it doesn't make sense for him to act so ashamed about it.

She's good with Chase—much better than either House or Foreman, that's for sure—when his tics are manageable, if he's... if they're flaring up; she supposes that would be the best term to use. Cameron can easily handle that. But right now?

It doesn't work the same way. Chase is stressed about it, clearly, and he's not given her any room to help. If there's anything Cameron absolutely despises, it's being helpless. Over the past few months of working with Chase, she has done her best to make herself available as a resource, of sorts, as someone that Chase can go to, and while he might go to her, is there any other choice for him? Does Chase choose her because he genuinely wants her assistance, or because she's the only one willing to help? Cameron's just as uncomfortable with Chase ticcing as anyone else in their department, but she's able to push past it and be the bigger person. Does Chase see that? Evidently not, judging by the fact that, even when they're both alone, he won't let himself lean on her.

He's frustrating, and his condition does get on her nerves sometimes, but Cameron isn't so awful that she's going to blame him for having Tourette's. She just wishes he'd manage it better.

Chase's eyes avoid hers when he finally makes it back to the car, skirting around her face and settling on the dash. His nose is tinged a soft pink from the amount of sneezing he'd done and the rubbing he's still doing, while his tics haven't calmed much.

"You alright?" she asks.

"Yes. Sorry you had to... see that," Chase says, resolutely not looking at her.

Cameron barely suppresses the urge to roll her eyes at the inanity of it all. "It's fine, Chase. It's really not that a big of a deal."

They're silent the rest of the way back to the hospital.

[softsnzstuff]

Anyone else watch H/OTD?? Orrrrr

[rayseverythought]

manifesting this episode to end happily