Disclaimer: House isn't my character. Yadda, yadda, yadda. READ!

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The elevator hummed softly as the doctor contained within let out a breath containing all of her frustration. Of all the rotten luck, why did she literally have to pull the short straw on this one? It was a childish way to determine the victim, but the team had decided that it was the only unbiased way to complete the mission Wilson had discreetly assigned them. With an obnoxiously fake bell tone, the elevator stopped abruptly and the doors slid open.

Hurried footsteps met Cameron as she rounded the corner to visit her boss for lunch. She had heard the sliding door slam as she was getting off the elevator and huffed hoping it wasn't coming from the farthest room down the hallway to the left. She wasn't surprised, though, as yet another nurse stormed past her, red in the face and frantic with anger. She was obviously leaving House's private room. She only hoped House would be in a better mood now he had thoroughly pissed off the 2nd nurse in two days. At least his record was perfect.

Slowly, Cameron's pace became more hesitant as she made her way down the hallway. She knew House would be ready and raring to go once she walked through the door; it would be no different than if he were up a floor and sitting at his desk.

She paused just outside his door and took a calming breath. The Wendy's cup in her hand shook a little with her nerves. Wilson had visited the surly man inside earlier, bearing three different flavors of ensure, four different kinds of protein shake and even an instant breakfast mix after House had thrown his usual temper tantrum over the hospital's "delicacies". Naturally, the stubborn diagnostician had dismissed each offering as "for the chronically age challenged", "for idiots with bigger muscles than brains", and "for those on strike against eggs and bacon" respectively.

The cup Cameron held now only outwardly appeared to be a chocolate shake from the fast food franchise across the street from PPTH. Inside, however, was a chocolate ensure chilled to perfection and blended with one scoop of ice cream to get the texture somewhat closer to what a milkshake should be like. Cameron hoped he wouldn't notice too much of a difference and would at least get some nutrients into his system before he realized he had been tricked.

Throwing off her fear and nerves, Cameron walked into House's room with a big smile on her face. However, her pleasant face fell flat as she realized House's bed was empty.

"House?" she asked, tentatively. She glanced around the room and noticed the light was on in his private bathroom in the corner. It was only after that discovery that she allowed her nerves to settle a bit; he still shouldn't have been out of bed though.

She treaded over to his bed and placed the "milk shake" on the tray that food services had brought to him earlier. She wrinkled her nose at the lunch that had been brought up to him. Even she wouldn't have been interested in beef broth, milk and apple juice all in one sitting.

The combination of all 3 fragrances caused her stomach to churn uncomfortably. However, it was the noise coming from the bathroom that startled her. It sounded like someone had dropped something.

Cameron rushed over to the bathroom and peeked into the room via the crack between the door frame and the door. She could see House's figure facing the sink and she looked at the ground as she raised her hand to the door and knocked softly.

"House?" she asked, loud enough to be heard over running water.

"Ugh. Not you now. Go away!" he yelled through his teeth in mock disgust.

Truth be told, House was glad to have someone from his team visiting. It gave him a chance to go against Cuddy's strict rule that he was not allowed to solve another case until he had been discharged from his prison. He smirked a bit, feeling the wrappings around his jaw holding tight, instantly breaking his reverie. He needed to get this damn thing off.

"Can I come in?"

House gripped the sink with his left hand to support himself; refusing to put any pressure on his right arm as it was already throbbing fiercely, House eased his weight off his right leg that was starting to yell at him now too for standing so long. He avoided looking in the mirror as he adjusted his stance; after using the toilet, checking the damage with his own eyes was next on his to do list. He just didn't want to see it yet.

"Trying to get me alone?" he countered without even thinking.

He glanced down, trying to find the hospital cane they had given him. He had heard it land somewhere to his right and was certain Cameron had heard it on her way into his room. It hadn't exactly been quiet. He twisted his back awkwardly, catching a glimpse of it somewhere behind him and slightly to the right as he heard Cameron laugh quietly outside the door.

"No," she said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, "I came here to bring you your lunch."

House smirked hearing the annoyance in her voice. He was also happy to hear an acceptable lunch awaited him. That slop in a cup out on the tray in his room barely passed as edible.

"I'll be out in a minute," he said not wanting to ask for help. Seeing no way to grab the four-legged gimp stick off the floor, House decided to use the rolling stand his IV was attached to as a makeshift cane. At least it looked cooler.

As he gripped the cool metal in his hand, House took in the slew of tools he had taken with him to try to cut through the bandage around his head. They littered the ground around him almost in tribute to his valiant attempts at removing the annoying white wrapping that held his jaw in place.

He admired a dropped a pair of scissors, too dull to cut anything anyways; a plastic butter knife, courtesy of food services, now snapped in two; as well as a pen, now bent awkwardly in his feeble attempt to pry the band away from his skull. Nothing had worked. Wilson had obviously wrapped many more layers than necessary around his injury predicting his childish behavior. He hated how well his best friend knew him.

He picked his way carefully around the debris on the floor, deciding to let one of his lackeys or Dave, the janitor that wore his pants backwards, take care of the mess later. He shouldn't have been out of bed in the first place, so bending over to pick up his mess was obviously a no-no too.

Cameron started as the door flung open and the bruised face of House appeared before her. She felt her heart beat quicken a bit as he had startled her. However, she felt anxiety run rampant through her system as she realized she now had to get House to eat his lunch without him noticing that it definitely wasn't a milkshake.

"What?" House asked, looking down at her, "Something on my face?"

Cameron smirked a bit as she walked towards his bed, motioning for him to get back where he belonged. She didn't give him the pleasure of a response. She knew he was only asking her such a question because he had blatantly startled her.

Wheels squeaked loudly as House limped towards his bed, ignoring the ache in his leg and the throbbing of his shoulder as he dragged his IV with him in tandem.

After a little effort, some help from Cameron and lots of glaring and cussing from House, the doctor was back in his bed and resting somewhat comfortably against his pillows. He grimaced a bit and run his right hand gingerly over the stitches on his stomach. Internally, he was healing rather nicely. Externally, it was healing nicely, but taking its sweet time. He couldn't wait for the stitches to come out.

"So, where's my calcium rich lunch?" he asked. The calcium dig was a veiled attempt to justify his choice of nutrition.

Cameron rolled her eyes and inched the Wendy's cup closer to House. She swallowed nervously as he grasped it in his own hands and raised the straw, already in the top courtesy of Cameron, to his mouth and began to enjoy his milkshake.

However, House's exuberant expression began to crumble away as the first taste of his drink washed over him. He paused a moment and swallowed, eyeing the Wendy's cup suspiciously before taking another sip. His brows furrowed and he looked up at Cameron with his head slightly to the side.

The tilt of his head said volumes more than Cameron could have ever heard him actually say. She knew that look. It was the cocky tilt of the head and the knowing look in House's eyes as he solved his puzzle. She knew that he knew.

"At least Wilson threw in a scoop of ice cream for me," he said with a slight hint of defeat in the amused tone of his voice.

A practiced look of confusion and misunderstanding crossed Cameron's features. This was exactly the moment she had been dreading.

"You can stop pretending now," said House between slurping noises, "I can tell the difference between a milkshake and a frozen drink meant for something 5 times my age."

"That would make whoever the target market is impossibly old," she said with annoyance.

House rolled his eyes and grimaced as the taste of his "milkshake" became more and more like the nutrient rich product that he abhorred so much. Yes, he would definitely make Wilson pay for this one.

"So how'd you get stuck giving me this thing?" House asked, putting the half finished container down on his tray as he spoke, "Lose just one too many rounds of rock, paper, scissors?"

Cameron let out a breath, realizing House wasn't upset with her. "Actually, I pulled the short straw. And for the record, I told him this wasn't going to work."

Swallowing thickly, House tried a different line of thought hoping to catch his minion off guard, "So! Don't keep me in suspense! What idiot is dying this week?"

"No one," said Cameron, obviously lying through her teeth, "We don't have a case right now."

Their eyes met and the battle raged on before Cameron had a chance to put up her guard at all.

"Right," House began, "and you and Chase aren't trying to have sex in each and every room in this hospital."

The anger on Cameron's face made House's eyes glitter with glee and triumph. Sometimes getting the best of her was just too easy.

"Do you want us to come down here and give you a show of it?" she asked, feeling cornered.

"I'd really rather show how Chase isn't satisfying you instead," he said as innocently as he could.

Cameron was visibly shaking with rage at this point. House sucked the last bits of his lunch through his straw. The obnoxious gurgling noise coming through the end of the straw reverberated through the cup and made Cameron grit her teeth. She was entirely certain that he had perfected his techniques of immature annoyance in his brief time here.

She snatched the cup away from him, leaving the straw in his mouth as she got up. He continued to inhale through the straw, making a quieter version of the slurping noise he had been making earlier.

"Get over yourself," she said with finality as she stormed out of the room.

House smirked as she left his room. His final tally had gone up to four nurses and one minion now. Yes, indeed it had been a very productive week.

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A few days passed, leaving floor 4 severely understaffed thanks to House's ability to irritate each and every unfortunate individual that walked into his room. He was on a winning streak and he was not about to stop. It was day six of his stay and so far, ten nurses had left his room with the steam practically pouring out of their heads. He loved this game too much now.

House sat impatiently at the edge of his bed, torn between wanting to get up and finally inspect his face in the mirror and sticking around to make sure he could pounce on whoever was holding his discharge papers. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

Not hearing any footsteps coming down the hall, House hobbled his way over to the bathroom and turned on the light. He took a calming breath before he stepped into the tiny bathroom again and braved a look in the mirror.

The initial glance was much easier than he thought it was going to be. He noted immediately that his visage was paler than normal and that parts of his face had colors that shouldn't be there, but all in all, he looked decent.

There were shadows under his eyes. He attributed the depths of them to his interrupted nights of sleep in the hospital. It always seemed that one annoying nurse or another would walk into his room just as he was hitting his REM cycle. A combination of his body using all his energy on healing in addition to the lack of deep sleep was definitely showing on his face.

He turned his gaze to the brownish-yellow bruise on the left side of his jaw. He knew most of it was hidden behind the white bandage that surrounded his jaw, but he was happy to see that it wasn't green and purple anymore as had been indicated by his medical chart. A healing bruise was the sign of a healing bone. Maybe he'd be able to get the bandage off sooner rather than later.

Experimentally, House flicked the lights off and on in the bathroom, staring himself down in the mirror. He watched his pupils for any abnormal reaction to the light. He was pleased to see that his eyes were behaving properly. He still had a mild headache, but at least his concussion was healing nicely as well. All in all, he seemed to be ok.

"Are you done admiring yourself yet, or do you need a minute?"

Wilson's voice made House jump a bit. He had been so involved in checking out his injuries that he hadn't even heard the man enter his room. He scowled a Wilson a bit before eyeing the papers in his hand instead.

"They setting me free?" he asked with the hope in his voice all too apparent.

"Yes," said Wilson, walking towards the chair next to the bed, "They want you out of here as soon as possible so they can put the nurses back on the floors they belong to."

House smiled mischievously as he snatched his release forms from Wilson and sat down on his bed. He snapped his fingers and motioned for Wilson to throw him a pen so he could apply his John Hancock to the appropriate lines to get himself out of his prison. He grimaced slightly as his right arm twitched under the strain of all the stitches.

"You want me to forge that for you?" asked Wilson, seriously offering to sign the papers for House.

"And take away the only fun I've had all week?" Scoffed House incredulously, "Yea, right."

Wilson just shook his head, not taking the bait. They both knew House had been terrorizing everyone within earshot of his room. It was the only way House knew how to occupy himself.

Wilson waited patiently as House struggled to sign his release forms and before either doctor knew what had happened, the oncologist was pushing the diagnostician in a wheel chair to the elevator. Of course, House wasn't sitting there quietly.

"You know, I could just walk out of here like I do every other day," he began, knowing he was not going to win this argument.

Wilson just pursed his lips and ignored him. The frustration on House's face increased and it took all Wilson had to neither respond nor laugh. It was far too much fun to beat House at his own games, especially if you were using his own rules against him.

"So are you just going to ignore me all the way to the lobby?"

Wilson remained silent, watching House squirm in the wheelchair. He silently hoped that maybe he would start to think he was mad. The elevator slowly descended and as the doors opened, so did House's lips.

"HELP! RAPE! I NEED AN ADULT!"

It was a muffled cry for help, but House did manage to gather much of the attention of the staff as well as a few innocent bystanders that were torn between looking at the man crying for help and the man behind the wheel chair.

"That's not what your mom said," responded Wilson under his breath.

"Oh, ha, ha," replied House, rolling his eyes. He tried not to let the relief show on his face. He had thought Wilson was upset with him.

Cold air rushed up to meet House and Wilson as the doors to the hospital opened wide. Although it was nippy, House couldn't help but relish in the fresh air as it hit him. There was nothing like real air after being contained within sterile hospital air for nearly a week.

Wilson handed House his cane as they reached his car. The confusion on House's face was obvious as the oncologist opened the door for him.

"Did you honestly think I'd let you drive home?"

"Well, yea. I mean, how else were both of our cars going to get out of the parking lot?"

"I'll come back later for it."

"And how are you going to get here? My bike?"

"Obviously."

House rolled his eyes, once again seeing that he wasn't going to win the argument, and resorted to sulking in the passenger side of Wilson's car.

The car ride to House's apartment passed without speaking. It was an easy silence, though. Neither party needed to say anything. It was only as Wilson and House left the car and trekked slowly to House's apartment door that either of them spoke.

"Ok, so here's the plan," began Wilson as House unlocked his front door, "You have fifteen minutes to pack enough clothes for a week. Then we're going to my place."

However, House wasn't paying attention to Wilson. He was much more interested in the large envelope that rested against the bottom of his door. He bent over slowly and picked it up, all the while noting Wilson's concerned look as he moved about much more than he should've with his healing stomach injury.

A very distinct hand writing scrawled across the front of the envelope. House's brow furrowed caught between confusion and intrigue. He didn't know the hand writing, but it was clearly addressed to him. It was also clearly sent to his apartment. No one knew his address other than his colleague at work. He figured it was just a prank from one of his team and he brought the envelope into his House with him.

"Did you hear a word I just said?" asked Wilson already heading towards House's room to start packing for him. The answer was all to obvious by the interest House was showing over that envelope.

"Of course I didn't," he replied as he reached up and hooked his cane to the moulding of the archway above him. He poked his finger under the flap of the envelope and began to tear it open.

Wilson tossed clothes haphazardly into a duffel bag and inspected House's bedroom for anything else he may need for a the few days stay at his place. He mentally noted that this would be so much easier if they were roommates. They practically lived together already what with the way House would frequently show up at Wilson's place and refuse to leave for days on end.

A smile played across Wilson's face at the joy of his friend getting back to his old self as he zipped up the duffle bag and entered the living room again.

"I got your clothes, but you'll probably need--"

His words died on his lips as he took in the haggard state of House's face. Fear, shock, disgust, terror. It was all there. He was sure House's mouth would've been hanging open if it weren't for the bandage around his head.

"House?"

Wilson tentatively took a few steps towards House, noting that he hadn't moved a muscle since Wilson entered the room. Something was definitely wrong. It was only as Wilson came within a few inches of House that he began to wobble a little; his leg was beginning to give out on him.

Wilson took the pack of whatever he had been holding out of his hands and lead him over to the couch. It was only after House was sitting down and safe that Wilson took a look at what he had been holding.

His face blanched immediately as he realized what had made House freeze moments ago. In Wilson's hands were black and white images. Each photograph more gruesome than the last until finally, Wilson dropped the photos and let them scatter across the floor.

Someone had sent pictures of House's torment to his own doorstep.

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A/N: DUN, DUN, DUUUUUNNNNNNN!!! I know, a semi cliffhanger. Sorry! In any event, thanks again for continuing to stick with me through this story! I hope you're all still enjoying it. Please REVIEW! Thanks!!

xoTrebleMaker