On the way to Cameron's quaint residence, House tried to rationalize the alien feelings exploding in his head. He didn't like it, every nerve was on fire, every thought branched into a dozen others, and every 'what if' scenario evoked new feelings. Remaining calm on the drive over was becoming exceptionally difficult. The drive, which should have only taken ten minutes, was taking much longer. House couldn't help but feel that there was some omniscient force trying to keep him from getting to her. He caught every single red light which really ticked him off seeing as there was hardly any traffic at this time of night. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently and, out of habit, popped two more Vicodin.

He couldn't control the thoughts and feelings running through his head. Was he mad? Hell yeah he was mad. She'd spent so much time and energy wanting him and when he finally opened up to her, she turns around and betrays him. He was more than mad, he was furious. He wished more than anything that he could be just mad, it would make things so much easier. But there was something more to what he was feeling. Something that bordered fear. Not the fear that he was accustomed to when making life-altering medical decisions. This fear was something different. Cameron wasn't just a patient, she was someone who he'd finally allowed himself to care for. This fear was irrationally focused on an enigmatic woman, who, above all others, cared for him more than he deserved. House was prepared to blame himself for whatever happened tonight, good or bad. He reminded himself again that he wasn't supposed to let her walk out of his office earlier that evening. But should he have expected anything less? After what he'd done to her, did he really believe that she would have wanted to stay? How could she even bear to look him in the face? The real question was, would he have stayed if someone betrayed him in such the way that he did to her? The answer was no. He wouldn't have stayed and he sure as hell wouldn't forgive. House only prayed that it wasn't too late to earn her forgiveness.

As he approached her place, he noticed all the lights were off and hers was the only car in the driveway. House took a deep breath before exiting his car and then set off down the path of her sidewalk. He sneaked, as stealthily as a cripple could, up to her front door, careful not to make any sounds. His vain attempt to catch a glimpse of her through the windows was fruitless, it was far too dark to make out anything inside her home. He thought about calling her phone again but decided against it. If, by chance, someone else was still in there, he'd need an advantage. Normally, he used his intelligence as an advantage but in this particular situation, his intelligence wouldn't fare too well against a physical attack. Hell, he was a cripple, so brute strength was off the table as well. House knew his best option was the element of surprise.

Dropping the phone back into his pocket, House then reached for the brass door handle and twisted it gently. It was locked, not like he expected anything else. He scowled in annoyance and immediately began lifting the flower pots that littered her little porch, searching for a spare key. By the time he'd reached the third pot, he finally located the key. Noticing the flowers in that particular pot, he knew he should've looked there first. All the other pots held bundles of marigolds and pansies. But in this pot, grew the most beautiful arrangement of Asiatic Lily's he'd ever seen He smiled because their beauty and delicacy reminded him of her. Pure, fair, and full of life. But this was not the time to be making metaphors about Cameron's beauty.

The key slid easily into the lock and he slowly turned the door handle. He crossed the threshold into her house and quietly closed the door behind him. Consumed by the darkness of her home, House started blindly groping along the wall in search of a light switch. He tried to remember the layout of her home, he'd only been inside two or three times and each time was only for a brief moment. House found himself reminiscing about the first time he'd been in her home. It was the night of their date Cameron was beautiful that night and it was almost unbelievable that a beautiful young woman such as herself was on a very public date with a cold, pill-popping cripple at least 15 years her senior. God how he'd screwed that up.

Finally his nimble fingers found the light switch, he flicked it on, squinting for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the flood of light. What he saw when he finally opened his eyes wiped away all of his previous thoughts and feelings.

Cameron was sitting in a recliner, knees pulled to her chest, in the corner of the living room. She was wrapped in a large blanket, staring straight ahead. Her eyes were wide with fear, her complexion was pale and her lips were parted slightly. It was as if she was in a trance, oblivious to everything around her. House rushed over and dropped to the floor in front of her.

"Cameron!" He spoke in desperation. "Cameron, can you hear me? What's wrong? His voice was urgent, but she didn't move. Not even a blink, twitch, or flinch. Mechanically, House pressed his pointer and middle finger on her jugular, feeling for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. He silently thanked whatever deity was still around to listen to him. He grabbed her face with his hands and forced her to look at him. Her pupils were dilated and her skin felt clammy.

"Cameron, I need you to blink once if you can hear me," he pleaded. A few seconds went by and she finally blinked. House breathed another sigh of relief.

"Okay, good. Stay with me, Cam. Do you know who I am?" House asked. She was still staring straight ahead. Although his eyes were focused on her's, she didn't seem to register anything. It was like he was naught but a ghost to her. "Cameron, do you know who I am?" he asked again, gently shaking her. He watched her pupils shrink slightly as she finally focused on him. She nodded her head slowly.

"Good. I need you to tell me what's wrong. I need to know so I can help you," House urged her. His eyes were scanning her face rapidly, searching for any signs of what might be causing her to act like this. Slowly, without moving her head, her eyes moved down to the left. House followed her gaze and spotted small brown tincture bottle on the floor. He picked up the empty bottle and brought it to his nose. It smelled of alcohol and marijuana. House pocketed the bottle and looked back at her.

"We need to get you out of here, can you walk?" He asked. Tears were forming in her eyes as she shook her head. "Cameron, I need you to do this. I can't carry you out," House told her. He tried to suppress the anger within him, knowing that the most important thing was getting her help. Then, once she was better, he could berate her as much as he felt was necessary. House stood up and move to the side of her chair, burying his arm under her left and forcing her to lean forward. He watched as she winced in pain but continued forcing her up until she was in a seated position. From there, he urged her to stand up, allowing her to use him as an anchor and ignoring the searing pain in his leg caused by her weight.

Once she was up, he wrapped his arm around her waist and together they made their way slowly towards the door. The blanket was still wrapped tightly around her body, which was probably a good thing given the chilly night they'd stepped into. House carefully shut and locked the door before leading her down the sidewalk. He noticed that Cameron was becoming more aware and alert as they proceeded towards his car. And by the time they'd reached his car, Cameron wasn't leaning as much on him but he still didn't let her go. House gently lowered her into the passenger seat of his car and stuffed her blanket inside before closing the door. He limed around to the drivers side of the car and within a minute, Cameron's house was nothing but an image in his rear view mirror.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," House informed her. He looked over at her, curious to see her reaction but found that, much like earlier, Cameron's eyes were staring straight forward. But then she turned her head towards him, placed a hand over his, and looked directly into his eyes.

"No," she whispered. They stopped at a red light and House looked back at her.

"You need medical attention," he insisted. Much to his surprise, her mouth formed a barely noticeable smile.

"I have a doctor right here," she said. Her voice was slow and lucid. House knew she was high so he tried his damnedest not to acknowledge the hint of desire in her voice. He sighed.

"Fine," he said and made a right hand turn instead of continuing straight through the light. She squeezed his hand gently and whispered a thank you. "But you have to do something for me." House continued.

"Anything," Cameron breathed while taking her index finger and tracing it along his jawline. House swallowed hard and with much difficulty, pulled her hand from his face and placed it back into her own lap. She frowned in disappointment.

"We'll go to my place and you can sleep this off on my couch. But you're going to tell me everything. You're going to tell me about the drugs, about the pain, about the guy you were with...everything." He demanded. Cameron thought about his conditions and apprehensively agreed.

"Fine. I'll tell you everything. But, House, please, for once in your life, please keep this between you and I," she begged. House let out a sigh, preparing himself for the worst. He knew that if the situation had no gravity to it, she wouldn't have asked him to keep silent. He didn't want to promise her. He didn't want that responsibility.

"Cameron, I can't - "

"Promise me, House," she pleaded. One look into her crystallized eyes and he couldn't help but agree to her terms. He hated the way she looked right now. Like her light had been stolen and all that was left was a hollow shell of the Cameron he knew.

"Okay," he sighed, knowing that he'd probably regret it. House didn't like keeping secrets. Secrets made the world go 'round and he was particularly fond of them because that's how he manipulated the people around him. He'd find out something they didn't want anyone to know and use it to blackmail them to do his bidding. Then just to be an ass, he'd spill the beans anyway.

The remaining duration of the car ride was quiet, almost unbearably so. He wanted to say something to her but knew that he'd say the wrong thing, or that it would come out the wrong way and he was determined to not let that happen. She needed him right now. Maybe more than she'd ever needed him. He wasn't going to screw up again. As his mind filtered all the possible things she was going to tell him, House found himself pulling up in front of his apartment, unable to remember taking the turns that led him there.

House helped her out of the car and allowed her to lean on him as they made their way to his door on the left. He unlocked the door and flipped on the lights with finesse and led her into his modern-furnished apartment. The first thing Cameron noticed was the beautiful black piano in the corner. She hadn't taken him for one to play the piano but it was oddly fitting. Perhaps it was the music that soothed the savage beast. She noticed the three guitars hanging on the wall behind the piano. She smiled and thought that was more appropriate for him than the piano.

House placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the couch. He suddenly became aware of the disarray that his apartment was in. Hoping that she didn't see it, he cleared the ashtray and various magazines from the coffee table. House wasn't sure why he'd done it. If she had been anyone else, he would've left it all sitting there without a second thought. He shook his head, hating the fact that she actually made him care about things he normally didn't give a shit about. Some part inside of him felt like he needed to impress her, like he needed to hide all the things she would consider a flaw. God, how he hated what she was doing to him.

As a gentleman would, he fetched two glasses of water from the kitchen before making his way back to her. She looked pleased by his gesture and greedily sucked down the ice cold water. She was slightly embarrassed by her sudden savagery but House offered her a little smile, reassuring her that she didn't need to be ashamed of anything.

"So, where would you like to start?" House questioned her. Truth be told, she didn't want to start anywhere. She wanted to enjoy the moment she was in. Alone, with the man she so desperately wanted, in his own home. She could think of nothing more wonderful than that. It helped her to block out the images running through her head.

"The bathroom," she said, choosing to ignore the true context of his question. He sighed in irritation, helped her up from the couch and led her down the hallway to the bathroom.

"You have two minutes," he said to her. "And I know the sound of my Vicodin bottle so don't even think about it," House warned her. She flashed him a devious little smile and shut the door in his face. House didn't want to wait outside the bathroom door for her, she needed a little privacy so he limped into his room and changed out of his jeans into a pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt. Giving her an extra minute, House sat down at the foot of his bed and slowly massaged his leg. The pain was beginning to dull now that he wasn't standing on it, but not enough. He popped another Vicodin and decided it was time to fetch Cameron from the bathroom.

But he didn't need to. When he looked up, there she was, standing in his doorway with a blanket still wrapped around her. House licked his lips when he saw the fiery look in her eyes. She stood there, the object of his desire, staring intently at him with a smirk on her face.

"Cameron, don't," House said, looking away from her. She smiled wider and started walking towards him. When she was near enough she placed her hands on his knees, forcing his legs wider so that she could get closer to him.

"Stop resisting. Just let yourself feel pleasure for once," she whispered into his ear. House let out a breath against her neck. He wanted to, so badly. But not like this. She wasn't sober and normally that wouldn't bother him, but he couldn't do this to her. He'd already hurt and betrayed her. He couldn't imagine what she would think if he took advantage of her while she was high.

House's hands grabbed her by the waist and forced her onto the bed. She was lying there on her back, when he noticed the tears forming in her eyes. Unsure of what to do, House removed his hands from her and opened his mouth to say something. But no words came out. She squinted against the pain but eventually it became to much. She groaned and wrapped her arms around her ribs and rolled away from House. She didn't want him to see her like this again, once was definitely enough.

House gently rolled her back so that she was lying flat on her back. He looked into her eyes that had become flooded with tears. Careful not to hurt her, he unwrapped the blanket from around her body. The white beater she was wearing was freshly stained red right around her ribs. He grabbed the bottom of her shirt, ready to lift it up to see the wounds that awaited him, when again she stopped him.

"Let go of my hand, Cameron." He demanded with little patience. She shook her head, not wanting him to see what horrors lie beneath her clothing. She struggled against him for a moment which only made the searing pain worsen. Finally, giving up, House removed his hands and waited for Cameron to calm down. Once she did and finally closed her eyes to deal with the pain, he grabbed the frail beater and ripped it open, exposing her small body to him.

House stared for a few seconds, shocked by the sight in front of him. "Oh god," he whispered aloud. The skin around her ribs, and stomach were badly bruised. There were fresh cuts all along her midsection that hadn't been tended to. Blood was seeping from each of the at least half of a dozen cuts. The sight was horrible but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. Then he suddenly became infuriated. He swore to himself that he'd find out who did this to her. And he'd kill him.