Chapter 12: Late Night Blues

Cameron blinked, and it took her a long moment to respond.

"Yeah... I'm still here. I'm fine," she said quietly. House limped towards her, trying not to show how much pain he was in. He didn't want her pity. He stopped in front of her and placed a hand on her arm, turning it up and examining the bend. There was a needle prick there.

"Been doing some IV drugs, I see," House said sarcastically. "And without me? I'm hurt." He let her arm drop, and his demeanor changed. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and sincere. He was still lost on why he was here. Of course Cameron was okay. It was just Propofol.

You're here because you like her! an annoying voice chimed in his head. House noticed it sounded suspiciously like Wilson.

"I'm fine," Cameron repeated, pursing her lips. He could tell she was biting the inside of the lower one. She was confused. So was he. "What happened?" she asked. House lowered himself onto the bed next to her, sitting about a foot away.

"I just finished telling the Order. Here's the condensed version: Kutner and Foreman are being held hostage by the Death Eater's at some place called Malfoy manor. They're using Kutner and Foreman as bait to lure Order members there so they can torture information out of them," he said, his voice a monotone. He imagined that the Death Eaters wouldn't just be letting Foreman and Kutner hang out. He hoped desperately that the torture curse that had been used on House twice earlier in the day wasn't being used on them.

Cameron clasped her hands together and touched her mouth to her thumbs. Little worry lines had formed on her forehead.

"What are they going to do?" he asked.

"They're going to call a meeting tomorrow, I guess. I told them that we're going to be there, whether they like it or not," he informed her. She nodded.

"I want to be there," she said in a small voice. She looked at House, and she looked like she was debating on what to say. "House..."

The door to the bathroom banged open, and Thirteen walked in. Although she still looked pale and haunted, she seemed to be in much better shape than she had been in earlier. House had a feeling that Thirteen had overheard what he'd said about Foreman, if her demeanor was any explanation.

"Oh, House. Hi. You're okay!" she said, giving him a tight smile. She was now in a baggy sweatshirt he recognized as Foreman's and a pair of exercise shorts.

"Yep," House responded, standing up to take his leave. Cameron shifted awkwardly, and Thirteen's eyes widened.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, motioning at the two of them.

"No," they both answered at the same time. House muttered quick goodbyes to both of them and left the room, letting the door shut behind him.

Once he was outside, he sagged against the wall. In a span of less than forty eight hours, his life had gotten ten times more confusing, and about four hundred times more dangerous.

He sighed, his mind and body tired. Maybe he could sleep after all.

"So," Thirteen said as she plopped down on her own bed next to Cameron's. She laced her fingers behind her head and crossed her feet, looking at the slightly older doctor. Cameron averted her eyes, pretending to be engaged with a loose thread on her sweat pants.

"So what?" Cameron asked, giving in.

"So why was House here?" she asked.

"He was just checking to see if I was okay," she said with a shrug, leaning back against her pillows.

"House. Greg House?" Thirteen asked slowly to clarify. Cameron rolled her eyes.

"No, the other House we know," she said.

"House doesn't check to see if anyone's okay. He doesn't care if anyone's okay," Thirteen laughed slightly. "I could walk into work missing an eye and three fingers and House wouldn't ask if I was okay."

"He's not evil, you know," Cameron responded dryly.

"I didn't say he was evil, I just said he doesn't care." Thirteen shrugged. "He's not evil, he's apathetic. Unless he has interest in something, it doesn't matter to him. So, him checking to see if you're okay means he has interest in you," she theorized.

"There's this guy... what's his name again... oh, yeah, Robert Chase, my boyfriend. Have you met him?" she asked innocently, but regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. Thirteen blinked slowly, her thoughts no doubt flying to Foreman, who was missing. Idiot, she chastised herself internally. Thirteen looked distant for a moment before shaking her head slightly and responding.

"You can't tell me you don't have feelings for House," Thirteen said. Cameron turned away, laying down on her bed and pounding her pillow into a comfortable shape.

"I can," she said adamantly. Thirteen frowned slightly, and she sat up, crossing her legs in front of her.

"Okay. So you don't have any residual feelings towards House?" Thirteen asked.

"There aren't any residual feelings because there were no initial feelings," Cameron replied, before sighing and rubbing a hand over one of her eyes. "Not from him, anyway." Thirteen nodded knowingly. "But that was in the past. I was a stupid little girl who was hot for teacher. Maybe House cares about me, but he definitely doesn't like me. At least not in that way."

"He doesn't care about anyone he doesn't like in that way," Thirteen said.

"Wilson," Cameron pointed out. Thirteen snorted.

"That's still up for debate."

Several hours earlier...

Foreman and Kutner lurched forward, the freezing spell breaking upon their Disapparation. Foreman managed to catch himself, but Kutner didn't throw his arms up in front of him fast enough, and crashed face first into the unyielding ground.

"Ugh..." He was only there for a moment before long, slender fingers entangled in his hair, pulling him up.

"Quickly, Travers!" Bellatrix said shrilly, jabbing her wand into Kutner's back and rushing him along what he now saw was a peaceful country lane. In the distance, he saw a wrought iron gate at the end of the long drive.

The large blond (and bludgeoned, Kutner noted with some pride) Death Eater yanked Foreman off of the ground and guided him forward at wand point. They walked roughly fifteen feet along the driveway before Foreman tried to get away.

Foreman stomped on Travers' foot, then swung his elbow back into his chest. He turned around and landed a swift punch to his jaw, then another one to his stomach. Travers, already weakened from the myriad of physical abuse he'd been put through over the course of the day, fell to his knees. Kutner took that as his cue to act as well, though he wasn't particularly thrilled about that. Foreman's arm muscles were as thick around as his head, never mind his ripped upper body.

Oh well. No pain no gain, right?

Kutner threw himself backwards, kind of in a reverse tackle. He caught Bellatrix unawares, since she was focused on Foreman at the moment. They crashed into the ground, and Kutner quickly rolled off of her. He grabbed her arm and twisted, trying to pry the wand out of her grasp. She looked at him with her pitch black eyes, then laughed maniacally and bit down hard on his hand.

"F-f-fuck!" Kutner yelled. He heard Foreman's footsteps behind him, rushing to assist him most likely. Suddenly, he heard a screech, a groan, and a thud. Bellatrix smiled, finally releasing his hand from her teeth. He jumped away and jerked around, trying to find Foreman.

"Cissy, so glad you could join the party!" Bellatrix called. Kutner saw Foreman on the ground, and a thin, pale, and sour looking woman standing several feet behind him, the wrought iron gates hanging ajar.

Bellatrix laughed again as she flourished her wand, and Kutner felt himself lift off of the ground. He screamed as he flipped head over heels, Bellatrix giggling below.

"Was the Potter boy there?" the blond woman asked.

"You'll have to ask Travers, once he's regained his composure. When Amycus and I arrived, there were three Muggles standing in the alley we Apparated to, and they matched the description we were given. We figured we could get the information out of them, and then use them to lure one of Dumbledore's servants here, or better yet, offer them up in exchange for Potter."

"Where are Lucius, Greyback and Scabior?" she asked, worry in her voice. Kutner flailed in midair, fear coursing through him. He was at least twenty feet off of the ground, a fall from this height would not be ideal.

"No idea," Bellatrix responded before kicking Travers. "Where are the others?"

"St. Mungo's," he coughed. "Muggle shot them up with something. 'Cept for Scabior, he's dead. Stabbed him while I was trying to wrestle down the boss Muggle."

"WHAT?!" Bellatrix exploded. "You couldn't handle this half-brained filth, and now one of the Dark Lord's followers lays dead? Fool!" She kicked him again. "Useless fool!"

"Someone needs to retrieve my husband. It would be incredibly unfavorable for him to be found in the company of Fenrir Greyback, with his standing in the Ministry," Narcissa said. Bellatrix huffed.

"Always so worried about appearances," Bellatrix casually flicked her wand, and Kutner saw the ground rushing towards him. He crashed hard into the grass, and he shouted in agony. Judging by the intense pain in his abdomen and the sickening crack he heard, he had just broken a rib. He fought back tears of pain and writhed slightly on the ground. "Travers, go back and find Lucius and Greyback, and find out what the devil is taking Amycus so long. The crippled Muggle must be giving him problems, the incompetent lump."

Travers grunted in response, pushing himself off of the ground with a wince and promptly Disapparating.

Narcissa cast an offhand glance at Kutner. He was gripping his ribs, trying to suppress moans of pain. God, he had never broken a rib before...

"Was that really necessary?" she asked stiffly.

"Necessary, no. Fun? Yes, I think so," Bellatrix responded. Suddenly, Kutner was being lifted in the air once more. He hoped desperately that the evil woman wouldn't slam him into the ground again. "Come on, lets get the trash inside."

"The cellar?" Narcissa asked.

"Are the same anti-Apparation charms still placed on it?"

"Of course."

"Then yes."

Kutner felt himself moving forward in the air, and even the gentle gust like movement made him want to scream. He had a funny feeling they wouldn't be giving him anything for the pain once they arrived inside the mansion.

Narcissa brandished her wand, and Foreman's unconscious form lifted into the air next to Kutner. The two women strode through the iron gates, which banged shut loudly behind them. High hedges muffled their footsteps as they walked to the rather imposing manor. White peacocks lounged in the lawn, the epitome of excess.

"Is the Dark Lord here?" Bellatrix asked. Narcissa shook her head.

"He still hasn't returned. I suspect he will be incredibly displeased with Lucius..." she trailed off, shuddering slightly. "I could care less for what might happen to Travers or Greyback, but the Dark Lord does not spare the rod in punishment."

"As it should be!" Bellatrix countered loyally as she trotted up the broad stone steps to the manor. The women lowered Foreman and Kutner to guide them through the doors and in a long hallway lined with portraits. The doors shut behind them.

They flicked their wands at the same time, and Foreman and Kutner came crashing to the floor. He had luckily only been about eight feet off of the ground this time, but the impact worsened the pain in his ribs ten fold, and he screamed.

"Silence!" Bellatrix shrieked, stepping on the back of his neck. "Cissy, open the cellar."

"This is my house, Bella," Narcissa responded, irritated, as she strode down the length of the corridor. Suddenly, Kutner felt himself being forced up and towards Foreman, and a rope entwining itself around their wrists, bounding them together. Must be a spell. Kutner thought to himself through the haze of pain.

Bellatrix yanked them up, and guided them roughly to a set of steep stone stairs, leading down to a thick wooden door. Narcissa tapped it with her wand, and Bellatrix promptly shoved them down the stairs and they tumbled inside.

"Aren't you going to interrogate them?" Narcissa asked.

"I'll allow the Dark Lord to do that. Also, I doubt that they know where they've taken the Potter boy. Dumbledore and his people may be Muggle loving idiots, but even they wouldn't be stupid enough to tell Muggles their plans."

"Point," Narcissa said. "Shall we just leave them, then?"

"What, do you want to sit and chat with them?" was the last thing Bellatrix said before slamming the door shut, wrapping Foreman and Kutner in complete darkness. Foreman was still unconscious behind him, so Kutner was essentially alone.

Alone. Afraid. Injured.

This is what he got for tagging along with House.

"So," Wilson said as House laid back down on his bed, finishing his trip to Cameron's room. He had seriously considered buzzing House as to why he had visited Cameron, but he decided there were a hell of a lot more important things to worry about at the moment. "Do you have a plan?"

House sighed as he reached up to turn off his oil lamp, leaving the room dark except for a thin shaft of moonlight filtering through the window.

"Nope," he answered.

"That's a first," Wilson commented from his bed.

"I'll figure something out," House said as he threw his covers over himself and adjusted himself under his sheets. "I've got to."

"Do you feel like this is your fault?" Wilson asked. House rolled his eyes, even though Wilson couldn't see him.

"Why did you become an oncologist? Psychology fits you so much better. Of course, I suppose the blind leading the blind was never really a good idea..." House cracked.

"I'm just worried about you. Two of your employees are missing."

"They're not missing. Missing would indicate that we don't know where they are," House corrected.

"Fine, two of your employees have been kidnapped," Wilson amended.

"At least I know that the Death Eaters won't kill them," House said, his voice low.

"Why do you say that?"

"If they kill them, they've got no leverage," he explained in a monotone. "I'd say we have a few days before they decide that the Order isn't taking the bait before they kill them. Maybe even a week."

"You've thought about this," Wilson observed.

"Have you met me?" House asked, shifting under his covers.

"Do you think the Order will listen to anything we have to say, us being Muggles and all?" Wilson questioned.

"Considering the fact that we managed to take out trained Dark wizards? Yeah, I think they'll listen," House said, a note of pride in his voice.

"You took out trained Dark wizards, you mean," Wilson corrected.

"Cameron helped. Thirteen killed one of them, and Kutner and Foreman helped take down Biggie the second time around. Everyone contributed. Except you, but hey, we all have our off days," House said in a mockingly comforting way.

"Ow, my pride," Wilson whined.

"Put a band-aid on it."

"Will do."

There was a long moment of silence. Before House spoke again. Even though he couldn't see him, Wilson knew House was debating his next words. "Wilson?" he asked finally.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to promise me something."

"Oh, God," Wilson groaned. He couldn't remember any time House had said that and it turned out well.

"Shut the hell up and listen, will you?" he said roughly.

"Alright, alright. What do you want me to promise you?" Wilson asked.

"Promise me you won't leave."

Silence.

"I promise, House."