Lucas stared down at an oblivious House and Cuddy, both naked. And sleeping. Lucas puked when he first entered their bedroom at the sight of House's bare chest; luckily a blanket was covering everything else.

Lucas pulled out a knife from his back pocket. He had made sure that the blade was nice and sharp earlier that day, and now it was ready to kill something.

"Bitch Cuddy won't know a thing." Lucas whispered as he walked towards House. Placing the stainless steal blade on House's ugly neck, Lucas gave a sharp tug, and House's throat was split open. House's eyes flew open right as he died, making a noise along the lines of "ag."

Blood splattered all over the place, but most of it pooled on the pillow. A small stream was heading for Cuddy. "Mm...Greg. I told you not to piss in the bed again." Cuddy said, shifting a little.

Lucas had the urge to say "STFU" but he fought it. She was for the most part asleep again, except for the occasional shuffle.

Getting up from where he was leaning, Lucas silently walked towards Cuddy's sleeping body. She was laying on her back, which made slitting her throat a bit more difficult. Didn't matter. He wanted this to be painful anyway.

He picked up the knife again, wiping off House's blood on his t-shirt. He held the knife in both hands, slowly raising it to where it would induce the most force possible.

Lucas sucked one more gulp of air in, closing his eyes for a second.

He opened his eyes.

He raised the knife a little higher.

And with one last thought,

He brought the knife down as hard as he could.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE."

"So what EXACTLY happened?" Wilson questioned the cop standing in House's office with House's team.

"The evidence suggests that he broke into their house through the window, killing them both in their sleep. The male's throat was slit, while the female suffered a more brutal kill. Stab wounds all over her back, chest, and one wound carved on her cheek."

Wilson sat down, trying to make his eyes tear up. "Wow. That's just..."

Foreman spoke up. "So you said Lucas did this? That he confessed?"

"Correct." The officer said. We got an anonymous phone call saying "The bitch and her sex toy are both dead. I killed them. Where should I go to pick up my award?"

At the people's stunned faces, the cop continued. "We, um, found him walking away from the crime scene, blood all over his skin and clothes. After we got him cleaned up and into an interview room, he confessed again. We got him to write down and sign his confession on paper."

"So what's going to happen?" Thirteen asked, looking carefully at the cop.

"He'll likely spend most of his life in prison, since he went there planning to kill them. The other possibility is that he'll plead insanity, and spend a while in the institution."

Lights were flashing all around the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Doctors were dancing. Nurses were dancing. Everybody was dancing, rejoicing at the news.

Everybody was talking about the death of Dr. Cuddy and Dr. House. But nobody could conceal their smile at the thought of them being brutally murdered.

"Ahem." The music stopped playing. Everybody turned to see who disrupted the party, but relaxed once they saw Dr. Wilson standing on top of the refreshments table.

"Now, we must all take a moment to remember about the horrible thing that has happened." At his own words Wilson started laughing. Everybody laughing with him.

"Let's have a toast. A toast to the wonderful man that has caused this happiness." Pausing, Wilson slowly raised his glass. "To Lucas."

"TO LUCAS!"