Disclaimer: Me own nada.

A/N: Wow! The response for each chapter is getting better and better! Let's see if you guys can't keep that up. Here is chapter 10, completely revamped from the original version I had, but I think you will enjoy this chapter a lot more. Chapter 11 has been revamped to match and is beta'd, edited, and ready to be posted. I think you will find both chapters much more exciting and enjoyable. Chapter 12 (the final chapter) is the epilogue and is still unwritten, although my muse is hard at work in the idea factory.

A/N: Mucho thanks to Melissa for betaing the first (really terrible) version of this chapter, and then giving me the harshest critique ever to make me write this other version. I can't believe this is the version I'm actually going to post! You are the bestest beta ever.

Shout out to those that reviewed anonymously - Pandorama (not like we didn't discuss your review over AIM, but, still), Sammy, Lov3good, and Silverblaze (just for you, I released the chapters...er, well, one of them anyway!)

"Dr. Chase, the police are here."

Cameron shifted her position on the uncomfortable hospital bed when she felt Chase move. Though she had been falling asleep, she was suddenly alert and wary. She pulled herself into a sitting position as Chase stood and turned to follow Cuddy from the room.

"Wait," she said, grabbing his arm. He spun around. "What are you going to tell them?"

He leaned forward so his eyes were level with hers. "What do you want me to tell them?"

The options swirled in her mind's eye. He would have to tell them about the car accident; there was no way around that. But if he also told them that he thought – knew – House had been driving, they would also need to answer questions about why he would want to hurt her in the first place. She wondered vaguely what had happened to their only evidence: the note and flower bouquet.

"Do you think we should tell them about the stalking?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "Allison, this situation has gotten out of hand. House needs to be locked up." He spoke so angrily, she was almost afraid to suggest they do anything different.

"Okay," she agreed. "You're right, we should tell them about everything."

"Right," he said, nodding. He leaned closer. "Don't worry. He can't hurt you in here. There are cops outside and he's not even allowed in the room." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll talk to them first, but I'm sure they will want to talk to you, too. Just rest for now. I'll be back soon."

He flipped the light switch as he left, and the room fell dark at once, save for the sliver of light from the hallway that came from the open door. She laid back on the pillows as he left, shutting the door behind him, and plunging the room into darkness. The curtains in front of the glass windows had been drawn shut, so she could no longer see what was happening outside, and if Chase and the officers were right outside her door, they were not talking loud enough for her to hear them. Bored without any company, she closed her eyes and wondered if she could try falling asleep again.

"Don't get too comfortable."

Cameron's eyes snapped open and she bolted upward, looking around the dark room for the source of the noise. She fumbled for the light switch, but her fingers scraped only the wall. She kept moving her hand along the smooth plaster, and had just found the plastic switch when another hand clamped down on her own.

"I wouldn't flick that, if I were you."

The hand tightened on her right wrist, twisting it behind her back. She gave a strangled yell as the assailant wrapped his other arm around her chest, holding something with a sharp blade to her neck.

"Scream and I'll slit your throat," the deep voice said.

Cameron tried to shake him off, but the man tightened his grip. "How – how did you get in here?" she choked out.

"It's amazing how much you can't see in the dark," he answered cryptically. "I just stood in the shadows and waited for him to leave. Lucky those cops showed up. I was starting to worry I wouldn't get this opportunity."

She glanced at the door, willing it to burst open, hoping beyond hope that the police would finish questioning Chase and want to talk to her instead. The man seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Don't count on it," he said. "You'll be dead long before they get back in here. And as soon as they do…" He dug the blade a little deeper into her throat to make his point.

Pain shot through her and the world seemed to spin. It couldn't be possible; he couldn't have entered the room. He couldn't have been there all this time; they would have seen him. And he had been outside, she had seen Chase yelling at him earlier…

"House," she said, trying to ignore the pain in her neck, "why are you doing this?"

"Now, now, that's not my name," he chastised her. She felt him adjust his grip on her as he shifted his weight. "Damn sprained knee," he muttered. "Stupid brace doesn't work the way it used to."

"But," she spluttered. "But you were - House was - stalking me. He tried to run me over."

"Coincidence."

"House doesn't believe in coincidences," she said, in spite of herself.

"Which just furthers the argument that I'm not House, doesn't it?"

She strained against him, trying to twist her left arm to grab something, anything on the table next to her bed that she could use to defend herself. Cameron felt him dig his elbow into her shoulder. "Stop that or I'll drag this across your carotid artery."

"So you are a doctor," she said, though she didn't lower her arm, or give up her attempt to reach the table. She made her movements smaller and more subtle, slowly inching closer and closer. It was difficult to move on the bed without making noise, though for the first time, she was thankful that the room was completely dark. "How else would you know about the carotid?"

"Yes, I'm a doctor," he answered impatiently. "We went on a date together once, don't you remember? I took you to a restaurant, and later we had some high quality time in a park."

"What?" Scenes from the dream came flooding back. Fear filled her. They had been wrong about House as the stalker, and now the dream had more truth to it than they had imagined. "Why don't I remember this?" she asked, almost more afraid of the answer than of not knowing it.

"Because I spiked your drink with the date-rape drug," he replied simply. "It was fun."

Cameron tried to ignore the bile rising up in her throat. She instead focused her efforts even harder on moving her left arm up the table to grab something.

He pressed the tip of the knife to her skin. "If you so much as touch that drawer, I swear I won't hold back."

The drawer? She hadn't even considered what could be inside of the drawer; she had only been thinking about the table. Now that he said it, however, the drawer would have more useful items than the tabletop would. The drawer next to the bed was always filled with extra medical supplies. There weren't any scalpels, but there were syringes. If she could reach one of them, she could stab the assailant with it, not to make him bleed, but to induce an air embolism that would paralyze him at least, if not kill him altogether by traveling to his heart or lungs. But opening the drawer and pulling out a syringe would be the hardest part of all. And what if she missed him and stabbed herself by mistake?

She weighed her options. It would take her a few seconds at least to open the drawer and grab a syringe, during which he was sure to puncture her skin with his blade. He would probably reach the carotid before she could even get the needle to break his skin, and that was if she could still aim as she was losing blood. She knew she didn't have much of a chance of getting at his neck; the best she could do would be to stab him in the leg and wait for the embolism to travel to one of his vital organs. By that time, she would already be dead. Cameron swallowed hard. If she could twist in such a way that he would avoid dragging the blade of the knife all the way across her neck, she might still have the ability to scream. Or if she were really lucky, she would be able to incapacitate him enough to get away…and if she still had enough strength to reach the door, she would be able to find someone to help her. It was a risky option, but she didn't see what other choice she had.

Her mind set, Cameron jerked her left arm up and grabbed the handle of the drawer knob, yanking it open. Her movement had surprised the stalker, and he didn't have time to drag the knife very far or deep before she snatched up one of the needles and whirled around. The knife broke through her skin as she turned, and pain seared through her. Trying to push it from her mind, she concentrated on the syringe in her hand. She found the depressor and placed her thumb over it. She couldn't be sure where his leg was, or even any part of his body exactly, but she knew as long as she stabbed in front of her, she wouldn't be stabbing herself. She drove the needle into flesh and jammed the depressor down, hard. He cried out as the needle pierced his skin, but his grip on his own blade did not falter. Realizing what she had done, he grabbed her neck and forced her chin up. She immediately dropped the syringe and brought her hand up to defend herself, but he was too quick. He slid the blade across her throat and she could tell from the blood pouring from her neck that he had hit the carotid artery at last.

She fell back against the pillow in a pool of wet, sticky blood, fully aware that this was the end.

A/N: Oooh, cliffhanger. What happened this time? Review and you shall find out!