Sorry this part is so short and that it took me longer than I would have liked to get it up and posted. Also, appologies to those of you who I confused in chapter 6. House was not the person holding the gun. He pissed off a patient, or a relative to a patient, who took it personal :P

LonelyWord:pokes you for not leaving an e-mail addy: Thank you for pointing out some things about amnesia. I admit that I hate research, so I try to wing things when I can. Too bad I have quite a few more chapters scribbled out so that a rewrite is out of the question, but I will keep your advice in mind for future use. Much helpful :)

Thanks to the rest of the reviewers out there! Wow, 98 already! o.o You guys rock!

I don't know why I dislike Julie :grins evily:

All notes, disclaimers, etc. are in Chapter 1.

Onwards and forwards!

Chapter 8

She would have been pretty if not for the frown distorting her face and the anger flaring in her eyes. "What the Hell is this?" she begins and the Australian quickly makes his exit, gone before the door could completely close. I wonder if I should fear for my life with only a cripple to save me. "I was told you got shot trying to save a life. Turns out it was yours." She looks up at Dr. House.

"Your sweetness is overpowering. I can prescribe something for that," he replies to her glare.

Wilson seems to be the bravest of us all and he jumps over to me and faces Julie, tail swishing and tickling my chin.

"I told you I was allergic to cats. Why haven't you gotten rid of that thing yet?" Her nose crinkles.

"Real good first impression, Julie."

She turns her glaring daggers away from me and back to Dr. House. I find I can breathe easier now. "What?" her voice falters.

"He has amnesia." He sounds like he enjoys passing along that tidbit of information a little too much.

Their voices echo in my head and I close my eyes against the throb. The doctor is standing next to me in am instant, cool hand against my forehead. "Pain?"

"Headache."

"What's wrong with him?" Julie asks. She seems at a loss now that the focus has turned away from her.

"Nothing to worry about. He gets headaches often after hearing you yell."

She is glaring again. My eyes are closed, but I can tell. "I'll come back later," she says, words short and clipped.

"Please don't," I say softly, but she is already gone. I crack open an eye. "How am I going to live with her after all this?"

"My couch is always free."

"What?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Wouldn't be the first time? First time sleeping on his couch, avoiding my wife, or both? My head throbs again, like it is reminding me, rather rudely, that I am still in pain no matter how I try to ignore it. One would have thought that I screamed instead of just flinching, because Dr. House's hand returns to my forehead and the other to my shoulder at lightning speed.

"How bad?" he asks.

"The anvil chorus."

"Base drums?"

"The works."

He injects something into my IV. I don't have to wait long for the pain to fade and exhaustion to curl up in it's place. Dr. House settles down into a chair. I want to shoo him away, but my voice seems to already be asleep. And my last thought before dreamland is that nothing would be able to get him to leave.

TBC

This is the last chapter told from Wilson's POV. Hope it was a nice little change :-)