Hi guys!

I'm so sorry that I've taken so long to update but I have been so busy lately. So I hope this chapter kind of makes up for some of this. A little glimmer of hope for the future.

;)

DG

Third Person

House and Rosie returned to the ER. Rosie departed quickly when she caught sight of Charlie. She wandered slowly, acting aimless.

"Rosie!" Charlie found her and bent down. He looked distraught having just woken from his sleep. He searched her eyes for an answer, "Where's your mom?"

Rosie was about to speak before Chase swooped them both away and gave Charlie a lowdown of what he was about to see. He nodded quickly so that he could see Marilyn. Chase kept Rosie from a curtained area and handed her off to Wilson who was right there. He kept her occupied.

Charlie pulled the curtain away. Marilyn was lying helplessly on a cot, blood all down her front, and her eyes closed. His heart stopped. It was hard to look. He quickly walked away from her unconscious body to find Rosie again.

From a distance, House was staring at the four of them, making there way through the crowd. He quickly knew that they weren't coming back for awhile. House limped over to the curtained area and watched Marilyn. Her chest rose and fell slowly.

He put his hand on her shoulder. A shredded sleeve, bloodstained.

It was hard to catch his breath. She was still so far away despite being only inches from him. House brushed some of her hair from her face, furrowing his own brow. Her face was softened, blank. He bent over her, trying to rid himself of anguish which only came quicker.

"House," Wilson took his friend's arm.

"I'm fine," House shot up and looked back.

Wilson examined House's slightly reddened eyes, "You're not. Come on. You've got to get out of here."

"I know," he choked out.

"Come on, let's get you home."

The next day, Marilyn was placed in a hospital room. Charlie was sitting silently in the corner while Rosie slept. He didn't dare get close to the almost lifeless body. He simply sat and pondered the situation. A simple drive home turned into a nightmare. Rosie had a scratch. She had one scratch and her mother had been crushed by a truck almost. It was so surreal.

"Good morning, Mr. Woods," Wilson came in, followed by some of House's team.

Charlie snapped out of his state, "Hello… James."

"How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," Charlie pushed back some of his hair.

"How's Rosie?" Wilson went over to the little girl.

"Sleeping," Charlie stated blatantly.

Thirteen rolled her eyes and turned to Taub, "He's a smart guy, Charlie."

"Yes," Wilson went over to the bed and looked at Marilyn with narrowed eyes.

"Is she going to wake up?" Charlie asked.

Wilson looked up, "I don't know. She doesn't have severe head damage, but she lost a lot of blood. It might be a few days, it might be a few weeks." Wilson bit his lip. It wasn't just that it's hard to see a friend like this, but he realized at that moment how something could change so quickly. Life was so precious, but so fallible. "We'll have to wait and see," he said quietly.

Rosie slowly raised her head and looked around at the others, "Remy!"

Thirteen smiled slowly, but her eyes were solemn, "Rosie." She went over to the lit girl and bent down near the chair. "It's been a long time since I've seen you."

"I know," she pursed her lips, looking over at the bed. "Is my mommy better yet?"

"Not yet," Remy took Rosie's hand and squeezed it. "Not yet."

"Rosie, are you hungry?" Wilson interrupted.

She nodded, standing, but not letting go of Thirteen's hand. Charlie started to rise, but Wilson spoke before he could, "We'll take care of her, okay?"

"Thank you," Charlie's voice cracked.

Wilson led them all out and down the hallway. Taub made his way beside the doctor, "Where's House?"

"What do you mean?"

"He hasn't come in yet," Taub said pointedly.

"He had a rough night."

Taub was quiet for a moment and lowered his voice, "I see."

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

1st Person-Marilyn

I opened my eyes slowly. I could see a little light. My head ached as I tried to sit up, but couldn't.

"Relax," a calm voice said.

Frightened, I tried to speak and get up, but before I could, the person put a cold washcloth on my forehead, "We didn't know if you were going to wake up." It was a man's voice, quiet, but soothing.

"What's going on?" I choked out, hoarse.

"You were in an accident," the man put a hand on my arm. "But you're okay."

"Where am I?" I asked, feeling comforted by his touch.

He paused, "You're at the hospital."

"Where's Rosie? Charlie?" I panicked.

"They went home. They're both alright."

I tried to place a name to the voice. It could've been James, but I didn't know for sure. "Who are you?"

The man didn't reply, instead taking the cloth off my head and pushing some hair from my face, "Do you feel any pain anywhere?"

"Just my head and my stomach," I felt a sharp pulsating in my gut and tried to reach toward it.

"Slow down," the man laughed. "You're going to pull out your stitches."

I smiled meekly, "Just tell me your name. Please."

"You just need to know that I'm a friend."

I still couldn't see well, the world was blurry. "What happened to me?"

The man put the cloth back on my head, "A semi rolled onto your car. Some of your ribs were broken and you lost a lot of blood. But everything's okay now."

"Alright," I sighed. "Was Rosie in the car too?"

"Yes, but she was fine. You must've turned the car quick enough to get her out of the line of fire," he told me delicately.

I closed my eyes, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me right now," I touched my forehead. "It's nice to talk to wake up to a friendly voice."

The man touched my cheek, "You're welcome."

His touch was so familiar; his warm hands and callused fingers. "I swear I know you. I just can't place you."

"That's my goal," he whispered.

I opened my eyes to see his face lingering over mine. Finally, I realized. "Greg," I gasped.

He lowered his face to mine, "Maybe." He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me. Greg put his hand around my lower back.

I put my hands on the back of his head, not resisting his kiss and feeling a wave of euphoria run through my body. He lifted my back off the bed, getting me to a sitting position. I rested my arms around his neck.

We furiously kissed for what seemed like hours. I had no strength to tell him to stop. The past caught up with me.

But finally, the present struck me. I pulled away, "Go. You have to go."

He stopped and looked down.

"Please," I felt tears rush down my cheeks.

"Alright, Marilyn," he put his hands back on my cheeks. He kissed my forehead and stood up.

I closed my eyes. I only heard him limping out of the room and the door closing behind him.