Title - House, Alone

Rating - T (maybe M for some chapters)

Summary - After a brief reunion with the friends he had thought he'd lost forever, House is once again dragged away and finds himself on a deserted island. Now he has to build shelter, fire, catch food, learn how to swim, and make up some crazy S.O.S. signals while he's there. House is in for one rough time! Not to mention the island is surrounded by a pod of dolphins; who refuse to let him leave. And the worst part of it all? He's out of Vicodin!

Hey! Yay! The sequel! I was laughing maniacally while reading all your reviews for the last chapter of Down Deep. Almost all of you called me evil, it was hilarious! Probably because I am evil…..Mwahahahaha!

Onwards!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He felt himself being swiftly carried through the water, clinging on for dear life to the dolphin while his only hopes stood frantically on the edge of the dock, growing smaller and smaller until he could see them no more.

His eyes stung, his whole body was sore, and wave after wave was pounding into his face. It was terrible. And yet, there was something magical about it too. It's not everyday that you get kidnapped by dolphins who save your life. Okay, that wording sounded a little weird…

He could see some sort of green and yellow rock on the surface of the water. Huh, that's weird. It's growing! No! No, no, no! It's an island! NO! He did not want to be stranded on an island! A huge wave crashed into his face. Okay, maybe it would be better if he was on an island. And indeed it was. A crap island too, I might add. It was small, maybe 1 or 2 kilometer circumference. Sure, it had trees and beaches, but it also had huge pointy dangerous looking rocks and caves! He assumed that the island had gone unused because of its size, and treacherous edges. He also thought it was safe to assume that it was unnamed, and rarely visited. He thought it was about 40 or 50 miles away from the dock. Not good.

They were growing closer to the island, and House feared that this was where he was going to be dropped off. The dolphins swam right to the edge, and stayed there. It was then that House remembered they couldn't put him up on the beach because it would be too shallow.

The dolphin that House was hanging off of started trying to slip him off, and he clung on; he did not want to go through the whole drowning experience again.

It persisted in a fruitless attempt to shake him off. Thrashing wildly, diving under the water. Not very pleasant, I might add. Finally, he let go.

Taking a stab at swimming, he tried to kick his left leg. It wasn't doing much. Then he added his arms to the mix. Still the same. As he fought to keep up, an idea struck his mind. Buoyancy. He was mentally slapping himself on the forehead for forgetting such a thing. He sucked in air, and stayed on the surface.

Now that he was staying up, - only dropping down when he needed to take another breath - House started doggy-paddling. This way was effective. He couldn't wait to tell Wilson about how he swam. He felt a pang in his chest. Wilson. The look on his face as I was being dragged away. Screaming my name.

No, he didn't need to think about the car trip. He didn't want to. And even though he had tricked his mind to believe himself to be indifferent, he was still stabbed with guilt every time he thought about that experience. "I committed homicide." he whispered to himself fearfully, before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Forget it Greg, you have bigger problems now, he told himself.

!

Wilson sank miserably to the ground, and the others watched him silently.

He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. They immediately snapped open. When he closed his eyes, he saw House. House floating dead in the ocean. House drowning. House wearing ripped clothes drawing an S.O.S. signal in the sand. And House's fearful countenance as he was dragged away. He kept them open, where all he could see was his friend's worried faces. He had a void in him, and knew that it would only be filled if House was found unscathed.

"Well, shall we?" asked Chase.

"Shall we what." asked Wilson in a monotone.

"Shall we go, then?"

"Shall we go where?"

"To rescue House!"

Wilson snapped up. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it? He supposed he had been too sad. "Yes!" he shouted.

"Well, let's go find a boat-rental." said Cameron.

"Huh?"

"Well, were not going to swim after him, are we?"

"No…" Wilson mumbled. But it would take time to find a boat rental. Time to even get in the water! If we take too long, House could be dead. He shook his head, effectively giving concussions to the negative thoughts floating around. Damn, maybe he shouldn't have given concussions, now his head hurt. "Dammit, let's hurry!" he burst out randomly.

"Um…Wilson…We're already in the car."

Huh? He looked at his surrounding, and they were indeed crammed into the car again. Hmm. I guess in my musings I wasn't really paying attention.

 He looked at his surrounding, and they were indeed crammed into the car again.

"No shit, Wilson." laughed Foreman.

What the hell? Can Foreman read minds!

"No." said Foreman, busting up with the others in the car.

Oh god. I hope I haven't been thinking out loud!

"Sorry to disappoint, but you have." teased Cameron.

!

House sat on the shoreline, letting sand fall from his fingers. All he was in were his boxers,. His shoes, socks, pants, and shirt had been placed in the sun on the ground and branches to dry. His stomach growled. What the hell would he eat? What was he supposed to do? Spear fish with his cane? He laughed at this, but stifled it quickly. It seemed unnatural to be the only voice on the beach. He spotted a piece of seaweed on the sand next to him. His stomach growled even more. He picked up the piece and fingered it, trying to decide whether to eat it or not. He knew it probably contained hundreds of germs, and he could make himself sick. He also knew that he was hungry, very hungry. Need was pushing his knowledge out of the way and it was scaring him. How would he survive without his knowledge? Would he slowly drive himself insane? He sincerely hoped not. And how the hell was he supposed to search for food or shelter with a gammy leg? Urgh. He wanted to throw something. He threw the seaweed/possible food into the ocean. There. Now he couldn't eat it. The satisfaction he felt at having trumped his needs evaporated quickly when his stomach growled again. Someone could survive weeks without food. What he needed was water. You couldn't survive more than 6 days without some sort of drink. He looked up at the forest that loomed ahead. He braced himself, grabbed his cane and went gimping in.

!

They hurried to find a phone book, stopping in every store until they found one they could borrow from the owner.

"Boat Rentals, Boat Rentals…" muttered Cameron as she flipped expertly through the pages. "Aha! Wait…no…I don't think we should go to this place."

"What is it?" they all asked curiously.

"Nothing." said Cameron a little too quickly.

Wilson snatched the book and snarled, "We're wasting time here!" then scanned the page. His mouth dropped open. "Well, it's the only one."

"No! Surely not?"

"It's closest."

Cameron, defeated, sighed. "Fine." she threw her hands up in the air and dropped them at her sides.

Wilson lay the book on the table, open. The rest leaned in to see. They drew back, repulsed at what they read.

Party-Boat! Rent it now! Along with out Party-Gals and Guy's on this PornStar Boat! They never leave!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Okay, so here's the gist of it. House is off to search for water and the rest of the gang are going to have to ride like a, sex boat or something to search for House. Hope you like it and sorry for the wait!

I had a bit of trouble with the chapter.

Please R&R! I won't post until I get at least 5 reviews. I know, I'm demanding.

Thanks!

ILGH