A/N: I was planning to have the next part up this weekend! I didn't intend to wait this long, but an unfortunate flare up of a pesky problem prevented it (did you know they'll refuse to take out your tonsils if you don't have insurance? Pfft). Instead, I spent the majority of Saturday night in the emergency room, but was completely thrilled as the hours I'd spent playing "Differential Diagnosis" on myself actually worked. The flare up hurt worse than usual so I knew it was something related, but more. The look on the residents face when I told him what I'd suggested was one of total disbelief. After the tests, his look changed significantly and I think my exact works were, "YOU GOT PWNED!"

Payback was them shoving a large needle into my throat. I'm okay now though...so: Me: 1, Resident: 0! I like storytime. Anyway, read and review...tis my longest chapter of the story thus far! There's only a few chapters left, but I won't have the next one up till later in the week I'm afraid. Something about an evil english teacher who didn't like my thesis and me...who's hot tempered and highly skilled in the art of procrastination, tells me I should complete my essay and put the fic aside till it's done. ENJOY!

Ch 15 - An Ongoing Battle

I tried to stop her, and failed miserably.

None of us had known Allison followed us to the warehouse. If only one of us had gone to check on her once more before leaving, this wouldn't of happened. If only the neighbor had gotten to the house sooner, if only the school had bothered to verify the credibility of Vogler before releasing Allie... The "what if" game is one of the deadliest, and in this situation - could be played for hours. Of course that game does nothing to change things, it's played to make the person at fault feel better for whatever wrong-doing they've just committed. I was trying desperately to make myself feel better for not being able to stop Allison, as she charged into that warehouse, desperate to save at least one of the two people she loved the most.

The sounds of sirens in the air gave myself, Foreman and Chase a reason to sigh with relief, as we watched Vogler aim his gun at House. House would fight back and give the police the extra minute they needed to swarm and kill the bastard who caused this all - this would turn out a success story. We stood in complete silence (and shock) as Allison came running out of a nearby bush, having watched the entire ordeal unfold - now making the ultimate sacrifice of her life, to save two lives in return. The police were entering the general area of the warehouse (we could even see the police units and swat team at this point) when Allison burst in and surprised the hell out of Vogler, throwing a knife at him full force.

Time stood still as Vogler aimed the gun towards Allison and fired five shots directly at her.

Allison had fallen to the ground immediately, the color red rapidly soaking the area around her, staining the concrete. Not two seconds later, we were pushed aside as the swat team stormed the warehouse, bringing Vogler down as he aimed the gun once more at the lifeless body of my god daughter.

I pushed past Foreman and Chase, almost frantically and right past the police, to get inside the warehouse.

Foreman and Chase stood in the doorway, I assume in too much shock to say anything, for a few moments before rushing over to attend to Allie - the paramedics were moments behind the police and due to arrive at any moment. I simply stood and watched as House dropped to the floor. He was cradling Allison in his arms, a look of panic in his eyes. He had removed his blazer and was now using it to attempt to stop the release of blood from a wound in her chest and abdomen.

"Don't leave me. Damn it Allison, I need you...I need you..." were the only words I heard him say in a low voice.

A moment later the emergency crews entered and focused their attention on Allison and Allie. It was seconds before they realized they'd have to airlift both of them to hospital, they were too worried by their injuries to transport them by ambulance.

House stood up and watched as they loaded Allison onto a stretcher. He looked at me briefly before I told him to go with Allison, I'd stay with Allie. With a look of thanks he hurried out of the warehouse and climbed into the waiting helicopter, who was going to take Allison to the nearest hospital by air with a trauma unit - which just happened to be Princeton-Plainsboro.

I focused my attention on Allie and went to see how things were going.

The paramedics placed her onto a backboard - one was checking vitals while the other held an oxygen mask over her mouth, attempting to deliver life sustaining oxygen to her lungs...something she was losing the ability to do herself. Foreman and Chase were talking to the police and told me to go with Allie, they'd be right behind me the second they finished giving their reports about what had happened. I nodded and raced alongside the paramedics as they exited the warehouse. I watched as the helicopter holding Allison exited the area, and as another arrived and landed a few yards off, waiting to take it's next occupant off for a another shot at life.

The ride in the helicopter was much to say, eventful.

Overcoming the immense sense of deja vu (what kind of person has to go through something this sickening twice in life?), I held my god daughters hand and tried hard to put the worst case scenario out of my head. As if reading my mind, the deja vu Gods reached a decision that they hated me. Monitors started to wail as she went into cardiac arrest.

She was already unconscious, but loss of pulse and blood pressure were now added to the mix. It took two shocks with the defibrillator before they regained a steady rhythm. I didn't even get out a sigh of relief before another monitor started to wail - her oxygen levels decreasing at an even faster speed. They intubated, placing an ambu bag over the intubation tube - releasing air into her lungs, sending the monitor back into relative silence. One of the life flight crew asked if I'd like to deliver oxygen with the bag at the required intervals, but I declined politely...realizing how much my hands were shaking at the moment.

Things settled down as we approached Princeton-Plainsboro, the trauma unit team the size of ants on the sidewalk - waiting in their plastic gowns, gloves and glasses...waiting for trauma number two of the hour.

We slowly approached the landing pad and set down with a gentle thud.

Moments later the waiting team rushed Allie off the landing pad, into the elevator and down to the rest of the team, waiting in the emergency room's trauma unit.

I've been a doctor for years - I was plenty accustomed to the sight of blood and all things most people get squeamish at. One look at my shirt, now covered in the blood of my god daughter...and I went running to the side of the roof, losing myself to the nausea.

When I gained some composure, I went down to my office and grabbed the bag of clothes I kept handy. As a doctor, you learn early on that an overnight bag is a must...things happen that are completely uncalled for - decrease in health of patients, emergencies that require overnight stays, being peed on (or as House once put it - losing another wife and needing to live in your office) - a change of clothes is always necessary.

I went down to the locker room, showered, changed and felt a bit better.

I then went to the emergency room to check on the fate of the mother and daughter - fighting side by side for their lives.

Upon request, a nurse told me that Allison had been whisked off to surgery. She had gone into cardiac arrest six times before they regained a slight rhythm and were able to move her to surgery. She also told me House had been a complete asshole to everyone, yelling and ordering people around and wanting to do the entire job himself - furious that no one would let him near enough to treat her. He'd finally retreated as Cuddy dragged him out of the trauma unit, and stood silently at the glass doors, watching as the team tried to stabilize her enough for surgery. When they'd succeeded, he and Cuddy had rushed upstairs to the surgical floor - they were going to supervise the surgery from the observation lounge.

I nodded - not knowing what else to say.

The nurse led me into another one of the trauma rooms and that's where I found Allie.

Doctor Wolfe, a specialist in pediatric emergency medicine, came up silently beside me. I was going to ask him to give me her chart, but instead asked him how bad it was.

"She's lucky, very lucky - considering the circumstances," he started, "She's sustained bruising to at least 60 of her body, as well as lacerations around the wrists due to the wire Vogler used to tie her up. She's got four broken ribs, two of them displaced, which led to the collapse of her right lung. We were able to get it re-inflated, no problems. A CT scan ruled out any intracranial bleeding and just mild swelling - the bruising to her head suggested it would be much worse...she's very lucky. She regained consciousness right before we sent her to radiology, but went back out from the pain medication we administered. She remembered what had happened, but seemed a bit confused upon asking her the date and some other basic questions - a mild concussion at my guess. She also suffered a fracture in her cheekbone due to the gun barrel Vogler hit her with. It's non-displaced, so it should heal just fine."

He paused, and I closed my eyes...knowing the worst was coming.

"The most serious of her injuries was caused by the bullet wound to her leg. She sat for days without medical attention and the bullet wound became infected...she's in septic shock. We're administering massive doses of antibiotics that will clear up the infection, but the damage has already been done. We are waiting on surgery to come and collect her - we are going to need to amputate her leg, a few inches above the knee. There is massive death of tissue in the surrounding areas - should she pull through this, it's the only way she'd ever be able to use her leg without a lifetime of severe pain."

I nodded, thinking of the life House led - not wishing that for anybody. I looked down as he opened her charts and saw Greg's signature signed at the bottom of some consent forms. I knew he didn't want it for her either.

"There's ...more," the doctor continued.

I stared at him, wondering what more there could be - this was suppose to be the worst of her injuries.

"She's received significant damage to her kidneys due to the septic shock," he said quietly.

At that moment, a team of doctors came downstairs to take Allie up to pre-op. The team whisked her away and I exited the trauma room - not even wanting to hear what the doctor had to say next.

This nightmare was spiraling completely out of control. I wanted to crawl into bed, sleep for a few hours and wake up hoping it had all been nothing but a dream. Reality is reality though, and I knew I'd not get my wish. Instead, I headed upstairs to the conference room, figuring I'd see if Chase and Foreman had arrived back yet, and tell them the news...bad as it was. I didn't even know Allison's condition yet.

It turns out that I didn't need to wait long. House was sitting at Allison's desk in the conference room, head buried in his hands. Upon hearing me enter, he looked up at me. I started to ask him the most obvious question and he just shook his head.

I stared at him and said softly, "No..."

He nodded again and picked up a photo Allison kept on her desk. I walked over and stood behind him, as his finger traced over the thin layer of glass. It was like the simple motion would bring him back fifteen years, to the moment it was taken. He continued to trace over the smiling face of Allison, clinging onto an annoyed looking House comically, as they both stood next to Gravedigger...green souvenir hats atop both of their heads. I said no to him again, and he nodded.

Allison Cameron-House had just lost the battle for her life.