So I gather some mixed feelings about the last chapter? Yes? Sorry, friends; I know it's sad.
Thermy: "Wow." Shocked. :P Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?
Amber Chase: Glad you're enjoying the story even though it's getting so depressing! And it's so cool that you have a nice guy to hang around with; I'm really shy and I never get to meet people. I have one guy friend, Josh, but he's not older than me. :P Christian guys are very nice. I was a Christian for my whole life, but I kind of have some issues with the faith, so I'm stepping back for a little while and trying to understand it. Parental approval is awesome:P I know my parents are like, "Boys? You're not allowed to know boys; you're only 16!"
The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien: Wow, I never thought I'd merit the word "genius" as an author of angst. I know this probably isn't the right reaction, but woohoo:P Thanks so much for reading.
Dafina: You never know what House might do to Len, but wait until he's finished with Wilson after he finds out...:P Have I said too much? You'd better read! Thanks for stopping by.
Runs with sissors: Holy cow, don't cry! I promise things will turn okay for the House family! Extremely sad at times, yes, but there is a silver lining to every cloud! Whatever that means. :P
Boredandhomealone: I've rendered you speechless, have I? Interesting...:P Glad to hear it's vivid, at least. "Horrible, but good." The finest oxymoron I've heard in a long time.
Nikelodean: Gee whiz, that was a hostile review! I entirely deserve it, though, I 100 agree. "Crazy, sadistic woman..." OMG, that made me laugh. Crazy? That's me. Sadistic? Not so much. Woman? Not at all. I'm only 16, thus making this story evidence of some really obscure, terrible mental disorder that should be treated with shock therapy. LOL, and you still want me to keep writing, through all of this? That's loyalty, my friend, thank-you. Next fic I write has to be a comedy, no questions about it.
Irock708: This can't be the end! I'm not anywhere near close to done yet. And the man in the dream was the guy who raped her...I guess my symbolism leaves much to be desired, but I tried it out. Gotta be able to say I take risks, you know. As for a sequel, it's a possibility, if I leave it off with exactly the right ending...Let me know if you think it's a good idea. It might not seem like there's no way I could leave it with an opening for a sequel, but there is, my friend, there is.
Sincerely Juicy: "Good chapter..." I see I have you stunned. :P Sorry; I hope this chapter is a little more...well, mabye not more, maybe a little less of something...A little less depressing?
JacobedRose: Thanks for reading; here's the continuation you hoped for. I hope it's slightly less tragic.
Regina Halliwell: Here's the next chapter, I hope that was fast enough for you. :P
Eternalgorithm: LOL - "House should find the guy and rip the shit out of him with his cane." That would be so like him...Definitely planning on doing one or more of the suggestions you listed; things will be okay! Thanks for reading!

Wow, so last chapter got a wild reaction. Some of you thought it was good in a very strange and depressing way, some of you seemed less thrilled. Here's chapter 15, and I hope you enjoy it!

House remained in his office the entire day. Wilson paced outside the door anxiously for over 15 minutes before deciding to go in. He wasn't sure what he was going to say or how he was going to say it or even if he was going to say anything at all, but he couldn't stand the thought of House being…upset. House got irritated frequently, yes, but very rarely had he been this depressed. It unnerved him.

"House?" Wilson called, clearing his throat. "Can I come in?"

"Yes," came the soft reply.

Wilson obediently pushed the door open. "How's it going?"

"Wilson, I am the worst father imaginable."

That wasn't what he'd been expecting. The House family was just full of surprises. "Don't say that. It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," House insisted. "I'm a terrible person! I did this to my daughter!"

"You didn't even know she existed. Alma never told you. If she grew up and made some bad decisions, she has no one to blame for herself," Wilson told him, feeling guilty as he said it, but at the same time unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"It wasn't her fault," House said. "Jimmy, don't tell anyone, but…Julia was raped by some man a few years ago. She was waiting at a bar to drive her step-dad home and the son of a bitch followed her to the car, raped her, and almost killed her."

Wilson's eyes opened widely. "What?" he said, horrified.

"She hasn't told anyone about it," he continued anxiously. "I'm the only one, and I want to keep it a secret, because reliving it now wouldn't do anyone any good, and I don't want her to think I'm spreading her business everywhere."

"Oh my God," Wilson said, sinking into a chair. "That's terrible. House, I have no idea what to say."

"The only way you can go is up," House told him. "Everything's going wrong. It can't get any worse."

"That explains a lot," Wilson said, lost in his own thoughts. "Like why she got so mad at me when I kissed her…"

House glanced at him sharply. "Excuse me?"

"House, you remember, don't you? Last night, in fact, when I was coming out of Julia's room? We were talking, and I got this crazy idea that I was half in love with her, so I kissed her and she started in on me for it." Wilson squinted at him. "She told you, didn't she?"

"She lied to me, is what she did," House said angrily. "Why she wanted to protect you, I haven't the faintest idea, but she told me she kissed you."

Wilson felt his mouth go dry. "So…you didn't know about…me?"

"I didn't have a clue," House replied, each word cool and even on his lips. "May I ask you something?"

"Yeah," he mouthed, prepared to meet his doom.

"What the hell were you doing?" House screamed, kicking his desk. Wilson jumped at the noise. "My 19-year-old daughter? Here she is, trying to recover from being attacked once, and now she has to go through it again? For God's sake, Wilson, she has AIDS! I didn't think you were that retarded."

Wilson winced, feeling extremely guilty. "I'm sorry, House. I didn't know any of this. I was just as in the dark as you were…"

"Don't go trying to make it out like we're exactly alike! We are different primarily because I don't go around seducing women half my age!" House bellowed. "Wilson, you have rendered me speechless."

"I wouldn't say that," he muttered irritably.

"Get out of my office, and don't come back," House growled. "I was wrong: things keep getting worse by the second. What's next, man? Am I going to grow another head, or just lose my job?"

"House, you know, you really sound ridiculous," Wilson informed him. "You didn't want anything to do with Julia, if you'll be so kind as to pick your ugly head up out of the sand and remember. 'She's 19, let her deal with it herself.' I don't understand why you –"

Wilson didn't get to continue with his monologue fraught with building aggression because at that precise moment, House's fist miraculously collided with his lip. Wilson's head bounced backward and his hand flew to his face.

"I changed my mind about her," House fumed. "It would be one thing if I thought you had her best interests at heart; then I might have felt bad for punching you. But as it is, all you want to do is get in her pants…"

"I'm bleeding," Wilson observed, surprised.

"These things happen," House said simply, walking to the door. He was sick of this place and the people in it. The only person he could trust was himself. "And you're lucky it happened at a hospital. That's all I have to say to you."

As he slammed the door and retreated, Wilson had to admit to himself that House was right.

Chase, Cameron, and Foreman sat together in silence long after their shift had ended. Somehow, their combined presence comforted them more than any other surroundings they could have had. They had coffee, as usual, but what was unusual was the fact that none of them had taken a sip in an hour. Surely it was cold and disgusting by now.

Foreman sighed. "I don't know," he said.

" 'I don't know?'" Chase repeated. "That's all you have to say?"

"Chase…" Cameron chided.

"That's what you're thinking too," Foreman accused. "None of us know what to say or do or think. We're all sitting here like a bunch of idiots waiting for someone to toss something at us to react to."

"Is this going to ensue in a speech encouraging us to play offensively when it comes to the game of life?" Cameron wondered aloud. "Because honestly, I don't feel powerful enough to stand up yet, let alone grab life by the balls and take charge."

If they hadn't all been so emotionally drained, they would have questioned her remarkable choice of vocabulary.

"What are our options?" Foreman asked. "What do we do? We have to think logically about this; it's the only way we'll get through it."

"Since when is it our place to do anything in the first place?" Chase countered. "It's House's problem."

"You'd like to think that," Cameron said.

"What do you mean?" Chase asked her.

"Come on, Chase, denying that Julia didn't touch your heart too would be like pretending the sky isn't blue," she told him. "Yeah, I'd say this is a very big problem, to all of us."

"True, but we shouldn't get too involved," Foreman pointed out. "We're still her doctors."

"So doctors aren't allowed to care about how their patients feel about what's going on with their health?" she asked. "I, for one, think Julia is a great person, and I feel terrible that she has to go through this."

"She brought it on herself; you realize that, don't you?" Chase said.

"Not necessarily," Foreman said. "While likely, there are other possibilities."

"Either way, everyone loses," Cameron reasoned. "I like to think she was in love when it happened."

Foreman and Chase exchanged glances. "Why?" Chase questioned her. "That means it's broken her heart! Come on, Cameron, don't tell me all your years of reading romance novels hasn't taught you that if she loves someone enough to sleep with him, then he turns on her like this, it's the most devastating, depressing thing that could happen to her."

"Apparently your experience with romance novels hasn't taught you that someday she will be able to look back on it with fondness, remembering the bliss that was," she huffed, starting out crossly and ending dreamily.

"Oh, God," Foreman muttered. "Let's consider another option. Let's say she was a loose woman."

"Can't see it," Chase said simply. He really meant, I won't see it. I don't want to.

"Ditto," Cameron said. "Julia's a one-man kind of woman."

"She's a kid," Foreman corrected her. "But I must admit, she doesn't seem the type to sleep around."

"Next," Chase said quickly, not wanting him to elaborate on the possibility. "Drugs. She's far too intelligent to be a stoner, but on the other hand she is related to House, and many addicts are extremely bright."

"When she came to the hospital, she would have exhibited signs of withdrawal," Foreman pointed out. "Unless she found a way to shoot up here with no one looking."

"Why are we even discussing this?" Cameron asked suddenly. "This is making me nervous. It's like high school all over again."

"You have to admit it's interesting," Chase told her. "And the fact that House would kill us all if he heard us makes it a challenge we just have to take."

She began rummaging through her purse for her keys. "You guys are incredible."

"You started it," Foreman said accusingly. "I don't understand you. You're always coming up with these fascinating topics to argue about, and then you won't let anyone get a word in on it. If this is high school, you're on the debate team and being voted 'Most Likely To Be A Politician.'"

Cameron glared at him. "Screw you."

"Look," Chase interjected, searching his mind for a safe change of subject. "Clearly, we can't sit here on our asses until something happens. We have to find a way to make a statement."

"High school," Cameron said again.

Ignoring her, Foreman asked, "What's our statement?"

"The truth," Chase said decidedly.

"And the truth is…?" Cameron asked, motioning for him to go on.

He hesitated. "That we care about the welfare and emotional satisfaction of all parties involved, and that we really want to know how it happened," he decided.

"So what are you suggesting?" Foreman asked. "Should we put on dresses again and go to her house and then tell her we need to know how she contracted AIDS so we can treat her more effectively?"

"Number one, that's high school again, but I'm willing to go along with the dress thing again because it was cute," Cameron said. "Number two, that's a lie, and it's completely unethical and illegal. Number three, I thought you said she didn't want to be treated."

"What?" Chase said suddenly, snapping to attention.

"She just wants to die," Foreman told him sadly. "She says she doesn't want to be in pain, but she doesn't want to prolong the process for her parents' sake."

"I bet House really went for that," he said sarcastically.

"He hasn't said no yet, and she already went and told him," Cameron said. "I have the sneaking suspicion he's allowing it."

"There's nothing he can do," Foreman said. "She's legally and adult and has her rights."

"That sucks," Cameron said unhappily. "There's no way in hell there's going to be a happy ending."

"This isn't a Disney movie," Chase agreed helplessly. "This is more of a Shakespearean tragedy. Everyone dies at the end. It doesn't matter."

"The end doesn't matter, no," she mused. "But the journey there does, and it has to be the best it can be. We have to make an effort, however small, to put some joy back into the House family's lives." She lifted her coffee cup. "To Julia and House."

Chase and Foreman stared at her.

"How come it was cool when Foreman did it?" she complained, slamming her cup down on the table.

"It's a nice idea, Cam, but it's not going to happen," Chase said, yawning. He glanced at his watch. "I'm going to go home and get some sleep. Maybe things will look better in the morning."

"Good idea, Chase," Foreman told him as he stood up. "Cameron, if you know what's good for you, you'll go home too. There's nothing more you can do. At least not tonight."

They headed for the parking lot, trusting that she would do the womanly tasks of cleaning up their mess on the table. Chase had spilled the milk and sugar, as usual, and Foreman had screwed up in the process of making the first pot of coffee and gotten coffee grinds everywhere.

Cameron didn't see these things, however. She only saw that there was more she could do, and that she was going to do it. "I'll go home tonight," she decided softly. "A good night's sleep sounds like the best option right now, but there's nothing stopping me tomorrow." She left too, not looking back for a second at the chaos that was the lounge.

Wilson threw a bloody tissue at the trash can and missed. "Goddamn it," he muttered as he stood up to throw it away. "I can't do anything right. I suck. God has forsaken me and left me to die…"

"House? Is that you?" said a voice. Cuddy opened the door and stepped into the room. "Oh, Dr. Wilson. Where's House?"

"He left," Wilson said.

"Why is your lip bleeding?" she asked.

"Long story," he tried. He knew from the look on her face that she wasn't buying it, so he sighed and told her, "House and I got into a fight, and he punched me."

"Oh my God," she said. "That's it; he's gone too far. I can't have a madman on my hands; he's got to learn he can't cope with his issues through violence –"

"It was my fault," Wilson said quickly. "Really, it was, Dr. Cuddy. I said something to him that was very rude, and in his state of grief he saw no other way to act. Honestly, don't penalize him for it. I started the whole thing."

"As true as that may be, Dr. House needs to learn to control himself. I've been looking for an excuse to do this for a long time, Dr. Wilson; don't try and talk me out of it."

"Please don't fire him!" Wilson begged.

"I'm not going to fire him," Dr. Cuddy said, sounding surprised. "Why would I do something foolish like that? I'm just going to suspend him for a few days, let him know what's what. Don't worry; I won't tell him why. It's not like he's going to come after you with an axe." She grinned at him and walked away.

"You'd be surprised," Wilson muttered once she was out of earshot. "And he doesn't need an axe. Hell, with that fist, he doesn't even need the cane."

Knowing there was no way to avoid going home tonight, he forlornly walked out to his car. He drove 15 miles below the speed limit, forgetting the fact he could be ticketed for doing so. Wilson pulled into his garage, took the keys from the ignition, and went inside.

Julie, his wife, was sitting on the couch flipping through channels on the television. When she saw him, she turned it off and said, "Hey, Jimmy."

"Julie," he said, nodding. He sniffed the air. "You had meatloaf for dinner."

"There's some in the fridge," she said.

"I'll heat it up." Wilson moved for the kitchen.

Julie stopped him. "I'll do it. You look like you've had a tough day."

Wilson gulped. She knows. The woman has some sort of sixth sense that tells her when I've been unfaithful.

"Honey," she said, pausing as she realized she hadn't called him that in a very long time, "I'm curious. I heard you pull into the garage last night, but you didn't come in. Why?"

"I, uhhh," he sputtered. "I had had a really hard day at work and I just wanted to be alone."

"Implying that I wouldn't give your space," she assessed, putting his plate in the microwave and slamming the door shut. "Perfect. Just what I'd expected."

"I didn't say that," Wilson said. "I just…forget it, okay? I don't want to fight with you. Today hasn't been so great either."

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Julie asked as she set his plate in front of him.

"We diagnosed a 19-year-old girl with AIDS," he said, sounding mildly unhappy, feeling miserable. "House got his panties in a bunch over some joke I made and now we're not speaking, and…"

"And what?"

He forced himself to smile. "And that's it. I know it sounds petty."

"Not at all," Julie said. "That's terrible, the girl with AIDS. I can't imagine how her family must feel. And I know you and House are close…"

"Jesus, Julie, you talk like I'm in kindergarten or something," Wilson said irritably, spearing his next forkful of meatloaf with gleeful delight. It looked to Julie like he was imagining it was her being skewered; in all reality, he was just ravenous for the meal.

She narrowed her eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be a better wife. I just don't know what you want from me, Jimmy. I try being understanding, I try giving you your space, I try acting younger and cooler and all that shit, and nothing is ever good enough. You know? Forget I ever said anything if it irritates you that much."

Wilson knew he should apologize, but honestly, he hadn't been listening too closely because he was so absorbed in his meal. It was so damn delicious. He'd forgotten Julie could cook like nobody's business. He looked around his house and realized that not only could she cook well enough to put the toughest food critic on their knees begging for another bite, but she made Martha Stewart look like an amateur. When had his house suddenly come together like this and looked like something resembling…a home?

"This is delicious," he commented, his mouth full. "Needs something, though."

Julie blinked, unable to grasp the chance in topic for a second. "Oh. Ketchup, maybe?" she asked, grinning. She pulled a bottle from the refrigerator. "Here."

"Thanks," he said, dumping a mountain-sized heap onto his meatloaf, careful not to get any onto the mashed potatoes next to it. "So…how was your day?"

"I…bought new cushions for the sofa," she told him, sounding awed that he had inquired. "And I got a great deal on paint at the Home Depot, so maybe this weekend I'll start painting the dining room like I wanted to. And…" She searched her mind, then stopped. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," he said. " 'Excuse me for trying to be a better husband.'"

Julie laughed at his poor but cute mimicry. "Sorry. Look, I'm kind of tired, so I'm going to go up to bed, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, trying not to let the food fly out of his mouth. He figured Julie might let him get away with being slightly rude like that as long as he didn't get any ABC meatloaf onto her freshly mopped floor. "Goodnight, Julie."

"Goodnight, Jimmy," she said. She hesitated, then kissed him gently on the forehead, and walked up the stairs to their bedroom.

Wilson grinned boyishly. Julie gave me a kiss! he sang in his mind. Dare he say it, things had actually gone remarkably well for them that evening. They had been civil and polite and almost friendly to each other with a minimum of squabbling. Sure, they couldn't stand up to newlyweds who could boast non-stop conversation and action in bed all night long, but it was still a far cry from where they'd been a few months earlier. Who knew where they'd be if they gave it even more time?

She's not so bad, he thought to himself. Maybe I should rethink calling her "The Beast."

Wilson rinsed off his plate and went up to brush his teeth. He looked at himself in the mirror and winced. "You are getting older," he said softly. "And uglier by the second."

"Who are you talking to?" Julie called.

"Just myself," he replied as he flicked off the light and climbed into bed. "Say, when did we decide we were going to paint the dining room."

"We didn't; I did." He could sense her smiling in the dark. "How do you feel about taking up the carpet in there? I know we have hardwood floors underneath it, and that goes with my motif a bit better."

He shrugged, even though she couldn't see him. "I feel like you know better than I do about decorating. I feel like you're doing a really wonderful job at keeping this house looking spectacular. And above all else, I feel very, very sorry but I am so tired and do not have the mental capability in my present state of being to converse on matters of interior decoration. Maybe in the morning?"

Her smile tightened but didn't fade; he knew it with a husband's certainty. "That's fine," she said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Questions, comments, or concerns? I don't have a 1-800 number, but your voice can still be heard! If I may direct your attention to the little button in the corner that says "Go" with a drop-down list next to it? Make sure you are on "Submit Review," click the pretty blue button, and let your fingers do the talking! (Holy cow, that was lame...) Thanks for reading! Cara/house-of-insanity