Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or any of the characters from the series.

Chapter 6: Where Home Is

Red light. Green light. Another red light and silence. The silence was thick, the implications disturbing. A bright shade of green against the darkening sky and he stepped on the gas once more. Yellow light ahead. Instead of speeding up, as he normally would, House slowed to a stop and the silence prevailed anew. Disturbing all over again. Perhaps he had hoped it wouldn't be.

Cameron was a motionless body, lying lifeless against the seat beside him. The rental car's interior was like a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere - even with all the other cars seen buzzing by the windows. It was peaceful, yet confining. It was roomy, yet cramped. They were forced to endure each other's breathing and pretend it didn't hurt.

Cameron kept her face to the road flying by at her right. She was going home with House. He had invited her into his sanctuary. Well, more like forced her. And as many times as she'd rehearsed accepting this invite, the last place she wanted to be now was with him inside his home. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did.

House pulled into the parking garage back at the hospital and brought the engine to a still. Cylinders ceased to fire and the car ceased to rumble. Just he and Cameron, and more disturbing silence. His gaze remained fixed on the cement wall straight ahead, and Cameron's remained fixed on the car to her right. Finally,

"Why are we here?" It was almost a whisper. Her voice was so delicate, House was afraid his scruffy voice would break it. Her exhausted face turned from the window and her clear green eyes settled on his blue ones. She was so vulnerable - so sweetly exposed and defenseless.

Yes, she was still innocent, House decided. She had to be. A face like that . . . So angelic. And angels are always innocent.

Okay, bad analogy. House shook his head. Satan was probably laughing.

His hand came off the steering wheel to settle awkwardly in his lap. He should probably answer Cameron. Why are we here? He wasn't sure himself. "You don't need to grab anything from inside?"

She felt like they'd switched places, mentally. "You mean from my secret stash of clothing in the lab?" She was going to need more than a jacket and a work bag if she was going to be spending the night.

House ignored the sarcasm. "Do you need anything from your car?"

"I need to get in it and go home."

"Nice try." He opened the driver's door. "I need to grab my bag." He twisted around to retrieve his cane from the backseat. "I'd say, 'I'll be back', but some things are pretty obvious." House pulled himself to his feet and reached out a hand for the door. Right before he closed it –

"How do you know I'll be here when you get back?" Cameron's rental car was a few rows away. She could easily flee to it and be on her way. House knew this. That's why he parked there. He would give her every opportunity to escape, and when she was still sitting there in the passenger seat of his car, she would know this was what she wanted. She couldn't say House was 'forcing' her. So he gave her a knowing glance and closed the door behind him.

His office was dark and the door was unlocked. He didn't touch the light switch as he entered. Light was overrated. But a lamp at his desk flickered on as soon as he'd grabbed his bag. Two dress-shoe-covered feet was the first thing he saw - propped up on his desk like they owned the place. He followed the legs to the chest, then to the face. A mixture of concern and admonishment was found to be staring back at him.

"Where were you?" Wilson. Who else.

"Agh," House hit his head in mock remembrance, "curfew. Right. See, when you said 'Have the car back by eight," I thought you meant eight in the morning." He pushed Wilson's leg aside with his cane and fished through a bottom drawer. "So, technically, I'm twelve hours early."

Wilson's glare was unrelenting. "I'm not asking about technicalities. Where did you take Dr. Cameron?"

Greg's face immediately turned up to Wilson's and met stubborn stare with defensive one. He would have knocked the oncologist upside the head if he didn't owe him twenty bucks. People tend to remember your debts when you don't feel like being so nice. "You'll have plenty of time to get into her pants on Monday. Don't act like I ruined your night."

"You're a jerk."

"Tell me about it." House looked back to the drawer and reached for his iPod earphones, tugging at the wire to untangle them. "At least I don't try to hide it."

"I'm worried about Cameron. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No." He got the earphones untangled. "No problem." After pulling out the iPod and Game Boy, he shoved the drawer closed with his cane and swung his bag over his shoulder. "Of course, if you'd leave the worrying to me and just go home and mind your business, you wouldn't feel the need to play FBI agent and jump me in my darkened office."

Wilson took note of the iPod and wrinkled his brow in a question. House always left his iPod in the office. "What's up?"

"The opposite of down. Of course, it depends on your frame of reference . . ." House limped to the open door and pretended to contemplate the meaning of 'up vs. down'. Then he simply gave it a shrug and turned back to Dr. Wilson. "Do turn the lamp off when you leave. I'm trying to score brownie points with the new Energy Conservation Committee." And then he took a step to exit.

"No, House." Wilson put his feet down and hopped up as fast as he could. "You can't just ignore me and hope I'll go away." He took a few long strides to the door and stepped in front of his friend, leaning an arm adamantly across the doorway.

"Why not? It works with everybody else . . ."

"Why are you taking your iPod?"

House took a few hobbles backward. "Okay . . ." he looked to the floor. "How 'bout this: no allowance this week. Since I've been bad and all. Just please - don't take my iPod."

Wilson's features scrunched into concentration as his mind went to work on the puzzle. He was never as good at this as Greg. Then he pointed an accusing finger. "Do you still have Cameron with you?"

House began looking all around him. He dipped his head to look under the desk. He peeked out into the hallway. He even looked at the ceiling. "Hm," he resolved, his eyes still wandering the room. "Well, I did. Wonder where she could've gotten off to." He began snapping his fingers near the floor. "Here Cameron! Heeeeeeeeere Cameron!" Two whistles and another snap later: "Ah well. She knows where her home is. She'll come back when she's ready. Either that or when she's hungry." And with that, he removed Wilson's arm with his cane and retreated into the hallway.

Step-thump. Step-thump. All the way back to the elevator. The metal doors closed and Wilson shook his head. He knew what Greg was saying: Cameron may be lost right now, but she'll be back. She'll be okay.

And he hoped Dr. House was right.

To be continued . . .