Okay, okay, here's the update, everyone! Thanks for staying with us on this! For a nice little treat, there's a special surprise in here for ya'll.

Disclaimer: Not ours!

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Cuddy leaned heavily against the wall outside of Cameron's room. "Who's going in first?" she finally asked, eyeing the three men.

"I am," House said impatiently. He brushed past Cuddy in his attempt to get inside as quickly as possible.

He approached her bed cautiously, not wanting to startle her if she were awake. He watched her chest rise and fall slowly, signaling that she was still alive, yet he could not let go of the utter terror that she was dead. Someone had hurt her. Someone had raped her. For all they knew, he could have been trying to murder her.

He sat down beside her bed, gazing at her still form. He didn't really know what to say: when he opened his mouth, the words only caught in his throat. Instead, he just shook his head hopelessly and continued staring sadly at her lying on the bed.

After a moment or two, he realized his hand had slowly been inching his way towards hers. He looked quickly behind him, checking to see that no one was watching, and then he grabbed it.

"Cameron," he whispered. "What the hell happened?"

Consciousness returned to her in bits and pieces, and for several seconds, she reveled in that pleasant place between sleep and awareness. Her hand was being held in a much larger one, and as the pain returned, she shifted her hips and turned her head to the side. The action sent a splitting pain through the base of her skull, and she groaned.

He looked up when he heard her groaning. He squeezed her hand. "Come on, Cameron," he encouraged her softly. "Come on, open your eyes."

She heard a familiar voice, soft and comforting, and she struggled toward it. "H-House?" she whispered, her mouth dry.

"Come on, Cameron," he repeated.

She slowly forced her eyes open, blinking several times before her vision finally focused. Her hand tightened around his, and her free hand went to her head, brushing her fingertips lightly against her temple. But when she made contact, she hissed in pain and pulled her hand away.

"Relax," he said gruffly, as he felt her hand squeeze his in pain. "Don't move around."

She stopped moving, her eyes falling on his worried and haggard face. Then she looked around the room, still disoriented.

"Cameron," he said, trying to bring her attention back to him. "Do you remember what happened?"

She blinked slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. "Uh, no," she rasped, her throat hoarse from disuse and something else. "Wh-what happened?"

"It's unclear what really happened," he continued, trying to keep his voice low and calm, not wanting to frighten her. "But there is evidence of...rape."

Her breath hitched in her throat at the word, and she fumbled blindly for his hand, her only link to a life that she used to have, that she might not ever see again.

He squeezed her hand. "Do you remember anything?"

"N-no," she whispered, clutching his hand. "I d-don't. Why can't I remember?"

"It's probably just an after-effect of the head trauma," House reminded her gently.

Her head suddenly began pounding, and she turned onto her side, pulling the blanket tightly around herself. She didn't pull her hand away from his, but she closed her eyes and searched her memories for something... anything.

He looked at her seriously. "Did you leave the door open, maybe? Was it someone you knew?"

She continued to rack her brain. She had come home from work, pulling off her shoes. Then... Oh God... She suddenly couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Him on top of her... the blood.

"Cameron?" he asked, shaking her shoulder gently. "Cameron?"

She looked past him, her chest heaving as the memories assaulted her. Falling back against the pillows, tears trickled down her cheeks, and her stomach heaved violently.

Her eyes finally opened, but a pair of green eyes beyond House's concerned cerulean ones, and every muscle in her body locked. Unable to speak, she attempted to convey her fear by squeezing House's hand as tightly as she could bring herself to.

"What are you doing?" House demanded.

The young nurse had the presence to look startled. "I'm ch-checking her vitals," he answered, his voice slightly trembling.

"Get out! Get out!" House shouted at him. He could feel Cameron shaking beside him.

He stared at House for a moment, then scrambled out of the room.

House glared at the nurse as he left and then turned back to Cameron. He looked at her pale face. "What was it?"

She trembled, her hand still a vice around his hand. "His e-eyes," she finally whispered, shuddering almost violently.

House frowned, trying to remember the color. "Green?"

She managed a small nod.

He touched her cheek softly with his free hand. "Do you remember anything else?"

She shut her eyes, unconsciously leaning into his hand. "H-he hit me," she whispered in a lost voice. "I w-was awake... I felt it..."

He nodded, urging her to continue.

"H-he wouldn't s-stop... And when he was... done..." She raised her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. "He h-hit me again... and I don't remember anything e-else..."

Anger wrenched his gut. So she had been raped. The room seemed to be spinning. Though he knew she probably had been, he was still holding onto the last hope that it wasn't true. Now that hope was gone. "We need to do a rape kit," he mumbled.

She looked at him, fear evident in her eyes. "N-no," she pleaded softly. "No..."

"Cameron."

She searched his eyes, then shut her eyes. "Please, House... I don't want to..."

"You have to." He could not help but let the urgency and frustration creep into his tone.

She shook her head slowly. "I c-can't..."

"Yes, you can," he insisted.

She pressed her hand against her mouth. She knew he was right, but she couldn't bring herself to be violate like that again. She knew what a rape kit entailed. And she just couldn't do it.

"Cameron, please," he begged her.

Her eyes opened again, looking for reassurance, for anything. Finally, in a defeated whisper, she said, "Okay."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Cuddy's outside. Do you want me to get her?"

She nodded, then reached out to him again. "Please... don't go?" she asked quietly, uncertain.

"I'll come back," he promised.

She reluctantly released him and pulled the blanket over herself again.

House left the room quickly, intent on returning as soon as possible. "Dr. Cuddy!" he called.

Cuddy turned away from Wilson and looked at House with worry and anxiety. "What is it, House? Is she awake?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes," House answered. "We need a rape kit."

Cuddy walked away from the group, returning a few minutes later with the kit in her trembling hands. "Is she... I mean, am I?"

House nodded. "She wants me in there with her."

She swallowed a small groan and nodded. "Okay."

He followed her inside the room.

Cuddy walked up to the bed, smiling warmly at Cameron. "Hey, Allison," she said softly.

Cameron looked at her, then averted her eyes. "Hi," she muttered quietly.

Cuddy looked at House, then pulled up another chair beside Cameron's bed. "House told you?" she murmured, resting her hand on the bed.

Cameron nodded wordlessly.

Cuddy studied her for a minute. "Are you ready?" she asked gently, struggling to keep herself together.

Cameron opened her eyes, looking for House.

He met her gaze and slowly took her hand in his. He nodded to Cuddy.

Taking a deep breath, Cuddy stood up and pulled her chair to the foot of the bed. "Cameron... I need you to hold your ankles together, and let your legs relax," she instructed the younger woman gently.

Cameron followed her instructions slowly, shivering when Cuddy lifted the blanket away from the lower half of her body. She gripped House's hand tightly, and tears leaked from her tightly shut eyes.

"Relax, Cameron," House told her gently.

She complied.

Cuddy continued the task as carefully and as gently as she could, and a few minutes later, she pulled the blanket over Cameron again and forced a smile. "All done."

Cameron didn't answer her. Instead, she scooted over in the bed, closer to House, and relaxed against the pillows.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked as he heard Cuddy leaving. "Wilson's outside too if you want to see him."

She didn't move. "I don't care," she whispered. "Just... please stay."

"He found you, you know," he told her.

She flinched. "Oh, God."

"Cameron, relax," he said, bringing his other hand to her cheek again. "It's..."

He tried to finish with "all right", but the words just couldn't come. Nothing was "all right". The fact that his best friend was shakier than House had ever seen him just added to the pile of things that were not "all right". House didn't know what Wilson had found in her apartment, but he knew that it could be nothing good.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, trembling again. Searching for the right words, she finally gave up and said in a quiet voice, "I'm cold..."

He pulled her top-most blanket closer to her chin. "Does that help? I can get another one for you, if you want."

She tried to will warmth into her body, but even the blanket didn't help. The cold she was feeling wasn't something that could easily be warded off with a thin, scratchy hospital blanket. But she didn't want to worry him any more, so she said, "It's fine."

He sensed her unease. "I'll find you another one." He stood up from his chair.

An unexplainable, irrational fear seized her, and she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Please..." She struggled with herself. "It's fine."

He shook his head. "I'll be right back," he promised again.

She forced herself to release his hand, and she turned onto her opposite side, staring at the wall on the other side of the room. The door shut, and she found herself alone with the demons in her mind.

House walked briskly out of the room and called out for a nurse. One came running over, and he told her what she wanted. She ran off to retrieve another blanket. While waiting, House walked over to where Wilson was sitting with his head in his hands.

"I want you to see her," he said gruffly.

Wilson looked up. "Why?"

House growled low in his throat. "You both need this. I told her you were the one that found her." Wilson looked mortified, but House continued anyway. "You need to see her."

The nurse came up to House and handed him the blanket. House promptly handed it to Wilson. "Bring this to her, will you? Tell her I'll be back in a bit."

"House!" Wilson called after his friend's retreating back. House didn't look back. Resigned for the worst, Wilson walked slowly to Cameron's room. He knocked uncertainly and then entered.

Cameron lifted her head from the pillow. "House?" she called hopefully.

Wilson shook his head. "He'll be back soon. He told me to give this to you." He offered her the blanket.

She accepted the blanket. "Thank you," she said softly.

He was here now, like House had wanted him to be, but he had no idea what to say to her. Knowing what he knew, having seen what he had, he knew it was possible he knew more about what had happened than she did. If she was unconscious during the part where...no, he didn't want to think about it.

She finally turned and looked at him. Uncertain, she finally said, "Thank you... for everything."

If only she knew, he thought sadly to himself.

He took a tentative step closer to her bed and sat down in the seat House had previously occupied. After a moment, he touched her forehead with his hand. Unwillingly, he remembered the feeling of her blood beneath his fingertips. He shuddered and quickly drew back.

She closed her eyes, then reached out and tentatively squeezed his hand.

He squeezed her hand back. "Did House tell you everything?"

"I remember," she whispered. "I remember everything..."

He felt tears well up in his eyes and he blinked to keep them from falling. There was no way she knew, no way she could have possibly known, could have possibly remembered. It hurt him so much to know what had happened...and she didn't know...Perhaps it was better that way. She didn't have to know.

She squeezed his hand again, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. "Wilson... please talk to me."

He shook his head furiously. "You don't want to know," he muttered to himself.

"No. I mean... about anything. Please..."

He looked at her. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Don't care." She met his eyes, then laced her fingers through his. "Anything. What's your favorite color?"

He laughed, a hollow laugh that almost seemed surreal. "Uh...blue. Yours?"

"Periwinkle. What's your favorite time of the year?" She was desperate to take her mind off the memories that were plaguing her, and this was working a little.

"Autumn. I love it when the leaves change." He looked at her, waiting for her response.

"Summer. I love to swim." She tucked her arm carefully under her head, the tension slowly fading from her body. "What's your favorite kind of ice cream?"

"None. I'm allergic to milk." She stared at him and he chuckled. "Kidding. I like vanilla."

She returned his smile shyly. "I like Rocky Road, with lots of chocolate syrup."

There was a knock on the door and then House entered. The corners of his mouth twitched when he saw Wilson. He limped over to the bed and sat down where Cuddy had previously been. "Miss me?" he asked Cameron jokingly.

She couldn't explain the sudden sense of security that took hold when she heard his voice, but she didn't question it. She simply turned a little and offered her free hand to him.

He took her hand, gripping it gently. He nodded to Wilson, silently asking him if everything was okay. Wilson nodded slightly in return.

"I should go," Wilson said. "I need to talk to Cuddy."

"Thank you," Cameron murmured again.

He squeezed her hand one last time and then released it. "You're welcome," he whispered.

She settled her head against the pillows again, never releasing House's hand as she watched Wilson leave. When the door shut, she let out a shaky breath.

He stroked her hand gently. "What's wrong?"

For a moment, she couldn't make her voice work. Then she choked out, "Everything."

He hesitated a split second and then said, "Talk to me."

"About... what?"

"Anything. Everything. Whatever is wrong, which you say is everything."

She dropped her chin to her chest and breathed shakily. "I'm scared, it hurts everywhere, and I want to go home. But it's never going to be home again. I'll never be... able to go into that room, and not feel like it's happening all over again!" She couldn't stop the onslaught of tears that dripped down her cheeks and wet the blanket in her lap.

He froze. This was what he was not good at. Comforting. Handling emotions. He didn't know what to say; what did she expect him to say? Tentatively, he reached out his other hand and rubbed small circles on her back, trying to get her to calm down. The last thing he needed was for her to make herself pass out.

She started a little at the touch, but to her own quiet surprise, there was no fear there. And she was amazed at that.

He hesitated for a moment, stopping the circles, and then held out his free arm.

She looked at his arm, expecting to feel some kind of negative emotion. But there wasn't one, and she scooted over in the bed, closer to him, then leaned into his embrace.

He wondered if she expected him to say anything. He supposed that he should at least try to say something comforting. He could only hope he didn't say anything stupid.

"I know it's hard right now," he began softly. "But things will get better...eventually. No one has to be miserable forever, you know?"

She silently pulled his other arm around her and nestled against him. Since waking up, this was the safest she had felt, and she wasn't about to give it up. The cold was finally gone, and she whispered, "I know." Then she snuggled deeper into his arms and sighed softly, finally giving into sleep.

TBC...

A/N: Well, there ya'll have it. Cameron's awake, and she's getting exactly what she needs. A little comfort from our favorite blue eyed nut. Thanks for reading, people, and please remember to review!