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[dr_girlscout]

Cameron kicked off her shoes and socks, and wriggled out of her running shorts, leaving it all in a neat little pile next to the bed. She wiped the sweat away with a damp towel and then let herself flop onto the bed, though in more of a sprawl than a neat little pile. She didn't allow herself to remark on the strangeness of sleeping there alone,

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[misanthrope_md]

After Mark had helped House to the Compound, after Chase had (nearly wordlessly) checked him out to make sure he hadn't broken any ribs or anything, House had made his way to Cameron's hut.

He'd thought about going back to Phedre's, but he knew he couldn't. Not the least of which because he'd told her that Alcuin could come back. But also, he just... didn't want her to have to take care of him anymore.

And he didn't know where else to go.

He didn't knock, even though he probably should have. He just opened the door and walked in, standing there leaning heavily on his cane since he wouldn't have been able to stand up otherwise, and looking bruised and miserable.

[dr_girlscout]

The sound of the door opening stirred her out of her light doze, and she sat up, squinting at him in the failing light. "Greg?" She blinked a few times, willing her eyes to adjust, because right now it looked like--

--had someone kicked the crap out of him?

Cameron swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. "Oh my god, what happened now?"

[misanthrope_md]

"What's it look like?" House muttered, and winced as he moved forward enough to sink onto the bed. It might be his face that looked the worst, but his leg was killing him. "Someone kicked the crap out of me."

[dr_girlscout]

"Who and why?" She stretched, forcing the remaining drowsiness away, and scooted herself over to him, fingers checking for anything broken or swollen enough to be of concern. "Do I need to get the IPD involved?"