Badr, Nikelodean, runs with sissors, The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien: Don't be sad, people! This story WILL have a happy ending! A realistic one, but a happy one. It will make lots of you ecstatic, in fact. Hang in there with me! Sorry to have made you sad, though. I listed it as Drama/Angst; it just took longer to get to the angst part. :P Thanks for the reviews, though!
irock708: Sorry about the sadness...and this chapter should give some clues as to how the romance thing's going to play out.
jeevesandwooster: Gross...Harry Potter...:P Sorry, I never got into that trend. Let's see...her step-dad IS responsible for the whole thing, in a way, but he didn't actually do it. Also, you say you don't cuss; sorry about my potty mouth! I need to develop a wider vocabulary so I can sound intelligent when I need to vent, or the characters need to vent, or whatever. In the meantime, though...it can be fun, I must admit. :P Thanks for reading!
Sincerely Juicy: Here you go, you're not last this time! You'll be first next chapter, LOL! Thanks for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed it, even though it's sad. :(
JacobedRose: Thanks for the review! My apologies for the sad stuff; I hated writing it and it was harder than I thought it would be. Next time I write a House fic, no one dies! Glad you enjoyed the scene in the lounge, though, that was fun to write.
Regina Halliwell: "Powerful." Wow, that felt good to hear, thanks so much. I appreciate the time you take to red and review.
Mollisk: LOL, the sequel's going to come after I finish with this story. It's not over yet by a long shot! Thanks for reading, glad you enjoyed it.
Jazzhands: Thanks for the vote of confidence, and for remembering there is more to this story than sadness and pain! We've still got romance left; I'm not sure, but I THINK I can write it so everyone will be happy. Thanks for reading!
Thermy: Thanks for reading! As for the AIDS symptoms thing, I did some research on it, and I used the onesthat suggest full-blown AIDS. However, I admit that my focus in this story veered somewhat from the medical mystery to the emotions and interactions of the characters, so it doesn't sound as serious as it is. Something to remember if and when I write another House fic! In regards to the heart rate thing...I don't know, if it was me instead of Julia, I might have had a heart attack, just because I'm half in love with Chase. Some people hate him; I can't. I appreciate the review!
Here's Chapter Eleven, and it's pretty heavy stuff. Very depressing. No ducklings featured in this part, so it's not going to be as funny as the lounge (Ch 10) or the cross-dressing episode (Ch 7). But it is quite necessary, or I wouldn't write it. Hang in there; it WILL get better!

Wilson pulled into his driveway, halting the car when he reached the garage. He switched the ignition off, undid his safety belt, and reclined his seat. He figured if he was going to go all night in the car, he might as well be comfortable. Why was Dr. Wilson spending the night in his car instead of in his bed where he belonged? He figured he should probably save Julie the trouble of throwing him out, which was what she would most certainly do once she discovered what he had done. What he would have done, if it hadn't been for that damn wedding band…

Sure, he had considered just not telling her, but he was too rattled from the whole experience to play it cool. She'd worm it out of him sooner or later, and then all hell would break loose. And he would end up right where he was anyway. Wilson decided being the bigger person and taking the inevitable punishment like a man was the best policy.

Wilson rolled to his right, gazing at the empty passenger seat as though it was filled. He didn't see his wife there; he saw Julia. The worst part was that he didn't understand why! Considering what had just happened, he thought it was a miracle her lifeless body wasn't in the trunk leaking blood onto his meticulously kept carpet. Okay, he admitted to himself, that would have been overkill. Still, he thought anger was a perfectly reasonable response under the circumstances. He thought back to approximately one half-hour ago…

He opened the door to room 116, slightly more nervous than he had been in a long time. He fumbled with his collar with sweaty palms, feeling suffocated. He forced himself to smile. "Hey, Julia," he said.

"Do people ever call you Jimmy?" she asked in lieu of a greeting. "I mean, James is a great name and all, but kind of…"

"Colonial?" he suggested.

Julia laughed. "Yeah.

"Dr. House calls me Jimmy sometimes," Wilson said, pulling a chair to her bedside. He watched her smile wane under the effect of his name. "What is it about him that makes you look so sad?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Dr. House had been his father, he wouldn't look sad. He'd probably eat a bullet before he gave himself the chance.

"He's just not what I expected," she said simply, barely opening her mouth.

That's a clever answer, he thought. A truthful answer, yet a lie. "So it seems Dr. Chase has a bit of a thing for you," he said, changing the subject. Bitterness crept into his voice.

If Julia noticed, she showed no signs of it. "Really?" she asked him, sounding pleased at the concept.

"He thinks you're something else," Wilson told her, choosing not to report on the Aussie's more flippant statements. "She's a little too young," he thought angrily. You're a little too late, you whiny bastard. By the time you guess what you're missing out on, I'll know for a fact and be able to flaunt it in your face in full, excruciating detail. "What's that face mean?" he asked playfully, referring to the goofy smile and dreamy look in her eyes.

"What face?" she teased.

"Come on," he prodded. "I know a crush when I see one."

Julia's cheeks reddened. "It's no big deal," she insisted. "He's just been very good to me, that's all."

"I should hope that's all," Wilson said, his voice taking on a protective edge. "Your dad would kill him."

"Step-dad," she corrected him. "And Chase might be able to take him, especially if the asshole's good and trashed."

"I mean your real dad," he said gently. "Julia…I know. About you and House."

She didn't speak for a second. "You make it sound like we're having some sort of affair," she protested, trying to make light of it after the shock numbed a bit, but her blue eyes seemed lost in a haze of hopeless thoughts and emotions. "My mom told me his name once, I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone, and I came to meet him, my symptoms in tow. If I had known what he was like, I wouldn't have done it."

"Hey," he said. "House seems tough, but he's a good guy. And he likes you a lot more than he likes the rest of us."

"You're kidding," she said.

"No way. He thinks a lot of you."

"Wow…" Julia let it sink it. Her dad thought she was okay! "He seems so cold sometimes. I mean, he's been great, but he kind of avoids the subject."

"He's afraid having a daughter will change his life," Wilson confided.

"Jesus Christ!" Julia exclaimed. "I just want to talk to him once! There are things he needs to answer for, things I want and need to know. And I have things I'd like to tell him. But I'd rather not even go there and just push him right back out of my life if he won't play along for me, his only daughter."

Wilson nodded, trying to imagine the hell Julia was going through. She probably wanted to know about his leg, why he was such a cynic, if anyone had replaced her mom. He hoped she'd push the issue with House, demand an explanation. It might not be the heart-to-heart she imagined, but it would be good for them both. "Before you leave, ask him to dinner," he suggested. "Hang out, talk a little, end it on a note you both can live with. He's not ideal father material, but it's a start."

"That's a good idea," she conceded, smiling weakly. "Thanks, James. You're a good friend."

"I'm no Dr. Chase," he laughed, producing a strangely hollow sound.

"It's not a competition," Julia chided. "Look, you've been here for me since the second I cam in here, and you're great to bother with me even though I'm not your responsibility. You're very selfless, James; you've given me support that's been immeasurable."

"Not as much as I've gotten from you," he protested, laying a hand on hers. He noticed her gaze shift and transform, but it didn't seem to be anything to read too deep into. He continued. "Julia, you're a fantastic young woman, and I've grown to like you. A lot, in fact. I knew you had too, but I guess not as much as Dr. Chase." He smiled sadly.

"I told you already; it's not a competition," she insisted. "I like you a lot, too, but…"

Wilson shushed her. "That's all I need to hear," he said. His heart clutched her words tightly, giving him renewed faith to place in what he was about to do.

James Wilson, already on Wife #4 in his mind, placed his hand on Julia's cheek, shut his eyes, and kissed her gently on the mouth. It was all he had thought it would be, slow and sweet, his fear of her now elating as he felt himself conquer it. Things were going to be perfect now, he was sure of it…

It took Wilson 3.9 seconds to realize Julia wasn't responding the way she was supposed to be.

He pulled away, studying her quizzically, his left hand still on her right one. She was shaking, and if the expression on her face were a color, it would have been Scared Shitless Dead Man Blue, because her breathing was the only thing distinguishing her from the bodies in the morgue. She wasn't moving, or talking, all color had drained from her face…

Well, hell, he wasn't that out of practice, was he?

"What's wrong?" he asked, as if he truly didn't know.

"'What's wrong?'" she repeated. "'What's wrong?' Everything is wrong! Have you lost your mind!"

He blinked. "Huh?" This wasn't at all what he'd been going for. He had been thinking lots of heavy breathing and roaming hands, maybe some breathy promises of things yet to come once Julia was released…

"James, I don't get it," she confessed, shaking her head. "Is this all you've been getting at all along, with the friendliness and the jokes and visiting me after you get off? You just want to get laid by some kid?"

"Julia, you don't understand," he began.

"No, you don't understand!" she shouted. Julia grabbed his wrist and held it up so he could see his hand. "Look at that! It's a wedding ring! It means you made a promise to one particular woman that you'd never do anything like this! It means you made a promise to every other woman in the world, including me, that we'd never have to be responsible for saving or breaking up a marriage. I thought maybe you understood that, but I guess not, huh?"

"My marriage isn't your business," he fumed. "I know what I'm doing."

"No, you really don't," Julia told him. "You've been married three times, and I haven't even fallen into the trap once! I think I know what I'm talking about. If you were the man you've been pretending to be around me, you'd try to grow up and not do this to 'the Beast,' as you call her. You'd try not to do this to me. You don't know how hard it is, James…"

"Well, you don't know Julie," he countered. "You would cheat, too. It was bound to happen. She expected it…"

"Look, I'm not a poster child for purity or anything, but I think those vows you made on your wedding day are sacred. I can't control what you do, but I can control what I do. I'm just protecting myself, Wilson. And trying to protect you and Julie, too."

"It was just one kiss!" Wilson exploded. "It was an experiment to see how you felt!"

"In your mind it wasn't just a kiss," she hissed. "And in the future, kindly do not refer to your mistresses as 'an experiment.' That's degradation at its finest."

"It was a mistake! Is that what you want to hear? It was all a mistake. You were a mistake!" Wilson realized too late what he had said.

Julia didn't respond right away, and he was horrified at himself as he watched pain fill those beautiful blue eyes that used to put him in a trance for almost the entire day. "Yeah, I admit it. I was a mistake, in more ways than one. But if all I've accomplished is making you glad you're going home to your wife instead of me, then so be it. Try not to screw things up with her, and maybe you'll get lucky after all."

She was right, he had to admit. A night with Julie would feel like heaven compared to this misery. "Fine," he said, walking to the door. "I'm gone. Chase is on his own; I can't deal with this anymore. Have a nice life, you…" He really didn't want to say it, but he'd started out having the last word and intended to finish that way… "Bitch." He slammed the door…

And ran straight into House.

"I seem to recall my requesting that you not spoil my daughter's reputation by…ummm…coming near her," House said.

"What can I say? She's fucking irresistible."

He had walked away, thankful House couldn't catch him if he tried. He scrambled into his car and sped away, not looking back.

And here was Wilson, wanting the only woman he most certainly could not have, having just admitted the one he should have wanted was nothing to him, and deserving to sleep next to a toad. Every man's worst nightmare.

"Fuck you," he whispered, not sure who he was talking to. Then he caught his reflection in the side mirror and knew: himself. "Fuck you, Wilson," he whispered again.

House stared at Wilson's retreating back. He couldn't be sure, but he was almost positive that his best had just:

A) been sarcastic with him

B) walked away from him

and C) come out of his daughter's private hospital room where window blinds and a bed were present.

He'd never known Wilson to try these things on a twin bed for safety reasons, but House figured he'd better make sure…

He pushed the door open, terrified that he might find Julia getting dressed after some wild hospital bed sex, but what he saw made him want to bolt.

She was crying. Again.

Julia looked up, recognition dawned, and she erupted in a fresh wave of tears. "Great," she sobbed. "This is all I needed to make my day complete. Did you know that God hates me? Well, he does, and he's making me miserable! I just want to die!"

"Look…kiddo," he said awkwardly. "We can throw the book at him, charge him with sexual harassment and all that jazz. But I have to know…" House drew a deep breath, then blurted out, "What did he touch?"

"Nothing," she said, then hiccupped.

"Excuse me? Do I hear denial?"

"He didn't touch anything."

"Okay…" House said slowly. "Well, lewd comments might not hold as much water in court, so…"

"There were no lewd comments! That's the problem!" she cried.

House blinked. "I'm not sure I'm following. You say the fact that Wilson hasn't touched you or made any lewd comments is the problem?"

Julia nodded fervently. "I guess I can't blame him. He had just finished telling me how he was trying to be more faithful to his wife, that he felt so bad for cheating on her, and that he had to stop hanging around me so much, then I turn into fucking Potipher's wife in a nightie and try to seduce him. He ran out of here like Bambi after his mom got snuffed." She blew her nose. "House, I've fallen madly in love with him. I'm not sure how, but I have, and I don't know how I'll continue without him…"

"Are we talking about the same Dr. Wilson?" House was stunned. Something was terribly…right? "This is an answer to prayer! I never thought I'd be so glad to find out my daughter is a whore…and an unsuccessful one, at that."

"Oh, shut up," she muttered irritably. "It was just one kiss, considerably light on the tongue, given that he tastes better than a hot fudge sundae…"

"That was more than I needed to know," House interrupted, suddenly feeling ill. "Look promise Papa that Daddy's little girl won't try to ravish anymore of his co-workers tonight, okay?"

"I promise."

"Good. See you in the morning, Pumpkin." He grinned. "Am I getting the hang of this dad stuff or what?"

"You sure score high on the embarrassment meter," Julia replied, grinning in spite of herself. "See you."

House left, feeling insanely proud of Wilson. He was going to have to tell him how much it meant to him that he had just broken his daughter's heart.

Julia waited a full minute after House had left to make sure no one else would come in before she started crying again. Jesus, had she just lied for that revolting, disgraceful, arrogant creep? How had she come up with that crazy story, anyway; it was a damn good work of fiction. And of course, she had obviously turned into one hell of an actress as well. What a performance! She had lied to Dr. House and lived to think about it. Telling about it would be a different story if he didn't figure out what was wrong with her soon…

Who cared? Julia was miserable. She had just lost Dr. Wilson, someone she had thought would be a part of her life forever. He would blab to Chase; it made her sick to think what he might say. "Julia's a prude…a tease…a lesbian…" The possibilities were endless! Dr. Foreman would be cold and disdainful, treating her as inferior as she felt. Dr. Cameron might feel sorry for her, try to help, then gently explain that one shouldn't deliberately try to break up a marriage...and never could she, in good conscience, tell the truth because she had started the lie!

"That does it," she declared. "When I get out of here, I'm going to become a nun. No more men! No more creeps like Wilson, unattainable petty boys like Chase, abusive jerks like Len, or cynics like House. I don't need the drama."

Julia cried herself to sleep and saw them all in her dreams – Wilson, Chase, Len, and House, combining themselves into the ultimate nightmare. They chased her from the safety of the hospital into the biting cold of the night. They followed her everywhere she went to try to feel safe, including the cemetery. Apparently things dead but not gone weren't enough to frighten them away. They chased her further into it, closing in. Julia stopped when she couldn't go any further and saw a hole in the ground, freshly dug and inviting her into its abyss. The stone at its head read "Julia Louise Peterson: November 7, 1986 – July 18, 2005: Beloved by no one." She screamed, not sure if it was out of heartbreak or terror. Their faces leered at her, taking ghoulish delight in her fright. Then their faces changed, and they were just as afraid as she was. Something was behind her, rising out of the hole. They turned and scattered, leaving her to its mercy. She looked at the phantom, a thing already dead, not recognizing his face but knowing it all too well…

It reached up and pulled her into the grave with it.

She fell…

Julia woke up, crying out as she sat up. She was sweating and yet so cold, her face wet with tears she had cried during her sleep.

Alice, the nurse that had snapped the picture of happier times when Julia had felt almost invincible, hurried into the room. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked as she felt Julia's forehead, concerned.

"Nothing," Julia managed. "A nightmare. It was…very real. Will you sit with me for a little while?"

"Sure."

Alice stayed until Julia fell asleep. When she woke up the next morning, her fever was high and the only thing haunting her from her sleep was that after the dream it had been mysteriously black and silent.

Any constructive criticism, praise, or questions you have would be greatly appreciated! Chapter 12 will come once I get an idea of what you would like to see more (or less) of! Thanks for stopping by!
Cara/house-of-insanity