So...I don't really have anything to say. Review?

House looked around where he was standing. It was dark and quiet…too quiet. He walked down the corridor with his footsteps echoing as he continued uncertainly. His pace quickened with every step as he became more and more anxious to what was at the end of the shadowy corridor.

House stopped when a door stood in his way. He grasped the doorknob and turned it, and to his surprise, it was unlocked. He opened the door slightly and peered in before he opened the door the rest of the way. The door creaked open, and House stepped in, the door slamming shut behind him.

This room was as dark, possibly darker, than the previous hallway. There was nothing in there except a passage to the right. House was drawn in the direction of the passage.

As he walked across the room to the dark area, he stepped on something wet and slippery. Puzzled, he bent down and touched the ground where it was wet. He brought his hand up to his face to see his hand covered in blood.

His eyes looked ahead. His eyes were adjusted to the darkness enough to see the trail of blood on the ground.

Standing up, he walked following the trail of blood. Then he began to run as he turned a corner into the passage to see three bodies lying on the ground. Three familiar bodies. House started to go towards them, but stopped when he felt someone touch his shoulder and heard someone call his name.

"House!"

House didn't acknowledge who was behind him, he was entranced with the bodies on the floor. His heart was beating so hard in his chest, he thought that it would explode.

Whoever was touching his shoulder grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

"House, wake up!"

With his heart pounding in his chest, House opened his eyes to see Wilson standing over him.

"You know, normal people sleep at home," Wilson said.

House looked around. Indeed, he had fallen asleep, in the clinic no less. "Well, normal people don't have trouble sleeping at night," House said as he rubbed his eyes and sat up. Wilson moved out of the way as House swung his legs over the edge of the examination table.

"You're having trouble sleeping?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah." House took out his bottle of Vicodin and swallowed a pill.

"Why? Is it the pain?"

"Sure."

"What's the matter? You seem like something is bothering you," Wilson said.

"Nothing," House lied. He didn't want to tell Wilson about the dream he had just had or any of the ones he had had like it. The dreams were the reason why he had problems sleeping, seeing them dead, with their blood splattered on the walls…

House looked up at Wilson. He had his trademark look of concern. House didn't want to worry Wilson more so House put the dream out of his mind. They where okay, they're not dead, Bill said so.

Not that he had any reason to trust him.

House slid off the table and walked past Wilson out the door. The clinic wasn't really busy, just a few people wondering about. Obviously, word had gotten out about the shooting and the doctors being taken, because people feared their safety and stayed away. This suited House fine.

House and Wilson rode in the elevator without talking. When they went in to House's office, they found Riley there waiting standing in House's office.

"Hello Dr. House," Riley said. "And Dr...?"

"Wilson," Wilson said.

"Right." Riley turned to House. "I have decided that for your safety Dr. House, that you shouldn't come to the hospital, at least until Bill is found."

"A reason not to come to work, finally!" House said.

"Glad you're so enthusiastic," Riley said plainly. "I can arrange for protection for you if-"

"I don't want any," House said.

Riley tilted his head to the side. "Are you sure?"

House nodded.

"Fine by me. Well I must be going. Nice meeting you Dr. Wilson." Riley left House's office briskly without another word.

"He's nice," Wilson said.

"You think everyone's nice," House said as he sat down in his chair. His office had been cleaned up: no more broken glass on the floor, a piece of wood covered the window, but the blood stain proved stubborn and there was still a little bit of remembrance of what had happened the night before.

"Are you going to stay home?" Wilson asked.

"I don't know."

"You need to."

"But I could die there as well as I could here," House pointed out.

"Well..." Wilson couldn't think of anything to say. He looked to House who was looking through the drawers in his desk.

"What?" Wilson asked.

House looked up. "Nothing." House shut the drawers.

For the second time that day, Wilson knew that House's "Nothing" really was a something.