So...my excuse for the delayed update? My computer got sick. But anyways...

This is the final chapter of RITC. It's sad for me, I've been working on this for two years on and off. It took me forever to figure out how to end it. There is a surprise! that might make some of you happy. I can't say much more now, or it will spoil it, so look down at the bottom for author's notes.

And two other things before I start. One, if you have not checked out my poll on my profile, you really should. It's "The Final Shipping Debate." So go vote for your couple! Huddy is in the lead, with Hameron close behind :)

Two, thank you for all that have signed up for author alert for me. I have many plans for fics now that my computer is working again. The one that I will be starting soon is called Silence. In it, House will have to deal with a very surprising condition brought on by some events...so if you want to know when it's out, sign up :)

And without further ado, the last chapter...

"So House, has this experience changed your mind about anything? Procedures? Ethics?"

House tilted his head as if he was thinking, but then shook his head. "Nope."

The man sitting across from House sighed. "Nothing at all?"

House shrugged. "Bill was psychotic and on an anger-spree, and I just got in his way. Besides, I didn't get his brother's diagnosis wrong, so Bill's whole motive was pointless."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Cuddy managed to find out from those blasted witness protection people. It turns out that Joey didn't follow the doctor's orders," House explained.

"Why?"

House shrugged. "Suicide? We will never know."

"Do you regret killing Bill?"

House shook his head. "Not at all. He deserved it for all the hell he had put us through. And at the time, I thought he had killed my bestest buddy."

Wilson smirked. "Thanks, for killing in my honor. The tears were nice too."

"I wasn't crying."

"Sure, now that I'm okay you deny it. But I know," Wilson said, smiling while House squirmed in discomfort.

"Whatever," House said while looking away from Wilson's bemused face.

It had been two months after the incident. House had blacked out after shooting Bill, and the first thing he remembered was being jolted awake in a bumpy ambulance ride. He opened his eyes to see that Cuddy was sitting next to him and Chase was talking to a paramedic at the foot of House's stretcher.

"I…what-," House began, confused in the crowded vehicle.

"Shh. Don't talk." Cuddy placed her hand on House's forehead. "Everybody is going to be okay."

"Not Wil-,"

"Don't worry about him. The others are in another ambulance," Cuddy said soothingly.

House opened his mouth to talk, but then couldn't think of anything to say, and then he floated back into unconsciousness.

The next time House woke up, he was lying in a hospital bed at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

His head and leg was throbbing, as were other parts of his body. He looked over to his right to see Cameron dozing in a chair and Foreman reading the newspaper. They both had changed out of their ratty clothes that they had been wearing when they had been held captive and they also looked much cleaner.

"Hey." House's voice was horse and he could barely hear it himself.

However, Foreman must have heard, because he peered over his newspaper, and when he saw that House was awake he threw the paper in Cameron's lap, causing her to stir slightly.

Foreman went to House's bedside and shined a light in House's eyes. House turned his head away.

"Don't do that," House said.

"How do you feel?" Foreman asked.

"How do you think?"

Foreman sighed. By now Cameron was awake and was standing next to Foreman with a crutch under her left arm.

"What happened to you?" House asked.

"I sprained my ankle," Cameron said.

"Oh…" House looked over to Foreman. "Is there anything wrong with you?"

"Nothing besides a few bruises. Chase has a broken nose, but Cuddy is okay," Foreman said.

"Where is Cuddy?" House asked.

"She's talking to the police. This is big-time news," Cameron said. "You wouldn't believe the reactions when six of this hospital's best doctors were brought into the ER."

"I can see the media going wild now." House closed his eyes. "What is wrong with me?"

"Well, you still have your old injuries, but of course with the trauma you went through they got worse," Foreman said, feeling House's pulse at his wrist.

"And my leg hurts like hell," House said.

"I'll give you some more pain medicine," Foreman said, and he went around the other side of the bed and fiddled with the IVs.

"Did Bill die?" House asked.

Cameron's eyes met Foreman's. Cameron sighed and looked down at House.

"Yes," she said.

House nodded.

"It had to be done. You're not going to get into trouble," Foreman said.

"I know." House wanted to ask about Wilson, but he didn't have the courage.

"I'll be back," Foreman said. When he left the room, Cameron sat on the edge of House's bed and smoothed out the wrinkles in his sheets.

"It's going to be okay," she said. "It may not seem like it now, but it will be."

House scoffed. "Losing your husband doesn't make you an expert on death."

Cameron stared at House. "I never said I was."

Foreman came back into the room, pushing a wheelchair.

"Do you feel good enough to go for a ride?" Foreman asked.

"No," House said.

"Come on, you're healthy." Foreman disconnected the heart monitor and placed the bags of saline and morphine on the bed.

"I don't want to go," House protested. He just wanted to lay there and think of things he could have done differently. Bill was right; he should have killed Bill when he had the gun while they were in the field outside. That way, Wilson would still be alive.

"You're going," Cameron said. She got up off the bed and pulled House's hand, making him sit up.

"And what makes you think I'll do what you guys say?" House asked.

"Because right now, you're weaker than us," Foreman said as he helped a reluctant House off the bed and into the wheelchair. Foreman hooked the bags of medicine on the hook on the back of the chair.

"I can still take you down," House said as Foreman began to push the chair out of the room. House looked to his side and Cameron who was limping beside them. "Especially you, since you now have my signature limp."

"Ha ha, that's so funny," Cameron mockingly said.

As the three went down the hall, other members of the hospital smiled as they went past. House couldn't remember the last time a fellow employee had been happy to see him.

"Where are we going?" House asked, bending his head back and looking up at Foreman.

"To see somebody," Foreman said, not looking down at House.

"Who?"

"You'll see," Cameron said.

Foreman and Cameron had taken House down to the intensive care wing. House had no idea what they were up to. Cameron opened the door of a room and Foreman pushed House in.

At first, House couldn't believe it. He stared at the figure in the bed as Foreman pushed him at the bedside.

It was Wilson. Alive and breathing on his own.

House looked up at Foreman and Cameron, both of which were smiling.

"What…how…?" House asked. He was dumbfounded at the sight of Wilson, who House had thought as a dead man.

"Remember, Wilson is a doctor. He was able to take care of himself when he was bleeding to death," Cameron said.

House smiled and looked at the rise and fall of Wilson's chest.

"Is he going to be okay?" House asked.

Foreman nodded. "He had surgery to remove the bullet. But…"

"What?"

Cameron sighed and rung her hands on the edge of her shirt. "But due to the injury, they had to remove some of Wilson's muscle in his shoulder."

House subconsciously touched his damaged leg. Foreman and Cameron noticed but didn't say anything.

"He will be okay," Cameron said quietly.

"That's great," House said. He continued to watch Wilson's breathing.

"It's been awhile since his surgery," Cameron said. "We thought that…you would like to be here when he wakes up."

"Sure."

Foreman injected a medicine that would take Wilson out of the sedation. Wilson's eyes slowly fluttered open and he muttered something incoherent.

"Wilson, can you hear me?" Foreman asked.

Wilson nodded. He then looked at his shoulder. "Shoulder…hurts."

"They were able to remove the bullet, but since you were shot close range, the damage was worse," Cameron said.

Wilson turned his head to the other side and saw that House was there for the first time.

"Hey," Wilson said.

House smiled slightly, but then frowned again. From years of knowing House, Wilson knew that something was wrong.

"What's wrong with me?" Wilson asked House.

"They had to remove some of your muscle in your shoulder," House said.

"How much?" Wilson frantically asked.

"You'll have trouble after the wound is healed, and the muscle most likely…won't grow back," Foreman said.

Wilson slowly nodded, the pieces falling in to place as he stared at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," House quietly said.

Cameron and Foreman left the room, letting the two friends discuss what they realized was private matters.

"It's not your fault," Wilson said point-blank.

"Yes it is. I should have killed Bill when I had the chance."

"That's not your job to kill him."

"I did though, later," House said.

"Really?" Wilson asked with curiosity.

House nodded.

"Wilson?"

"What?"

"I'm glad that you're alive."

"Me too."

House looked down at his lap. "When I thought that you had died, I…I couldn't…I didn't know-,"

"I understand," Wilson said. "You were worried."

"Devastated is more like it," House mumbled.

Wilson chuckled. House looked up, wondering what Wilson could find funny at such a serious matter.

"Sorry. It's just that you, sardonic Greg House, have feelings after all," Wilson said.

"So?" House asked, full with annoyance towards Wilson.

"It's so…strange."

"Don't get used to it," House said.

"Your secret is safe with me," Wilson promised. "But I think the others know now too."

House brushed off his last comment and looked into Wilson's boyish brown eyes. "But really, I am sorry."

"Thanks House."

The two were silent for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts until House started to laugh.

"What?" Wilson asked.

"Now you're a cripple too," House pointed out.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Now I get to be like you. Joy."

"I hope you don't get too much like me."

"Yeah, there's only room for one of you in the world," Wilson said.

"House?"

House was brought back to present time in the hospital cafeteria and looked up to see Wilson staring at him from across the table.

"Are you okay?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about something." House sighed. "How does your arm feel?"

"Great." Wilson raised his left arm and ran his hand through his hair to show House that he could move his arm, but Wilson grimaced in pain as he did so.

"It hurts," House said.

Wilson let his arm drop. "Yes, but the physical therapy has helped a lot."

"How can you be so blasé?" House asked.

"I'm alive. That's all that matters."

House silently agreed.

Wilson took a bottle of pills out if his pocket. A grin spread out on House's face.

"The difference between you and me is that I only take one at a time," Wilson said, showing House the single white pill in his palm.

"I didn't say anything," House said. "But you might-,"

"No."

"Whatever."

House reached across the table and grabbed Wilson's bag of chips off of his tray.

"I've been back to work for one day, and you're already stealing my food," Wilson said.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," House said with a mouth full of chips.

Wilson sighed. "Me neither."

--

Later that day, Wilson was sitting in on a differential with House and his team. They had come up with some brilliant idea (Chase's idea), and Foreman, Chase and Cameron had scurried off. They now knew the proper diagnosis; a simple sinus infection gone astray, instead of the deadly cancer or Lupus that they had thought that it was previously.

House erased the white board and turned around to Wilson who was sitting at the table.

"I'm going home before Cuddy finds me and forces me to do more work," House said.

"Me too. She's has been nagging at me all day to leave early," Wilson said.

"Pizza at my place?" House asked, throwing his red tennis ball at Wilson.

Wilson caught the ball with his good arm and then tossed it back to House. "Sure."

And the two friends walked down the hall of the hospital like usual, like nothing has changed.

However, in retrospect, a lot had changed. The memory of the terror that Bill had caused would stay fresh in their hearts and minds for a long time, some longer than others, and for some it would never go away. It would remind them to watch out for themselves and to value every day that they were safe and alive.

The incident had brought them closer together, although they never talked about it or acknowledged what had happened amongst each other. Before, Cuddy and Wilson did not associate with Chase, Cameron or Foreman outside of work, but now they regularly met for different things, and House would even show up most of the time. It was the unsaid condition for people that shared such an experience as they did.

Others that had asked them about what had happened soon learned that they did not want to discuss it, so the subject was quickly dropped. However, they – the ones that had been held captive – knew, and they supported the others.

And they understood when they were walking, if another one of them were to suddenly turn around and clutch their chest in fright and fear echoing in their hearts, they knew that the past was coming back to haunt them by playing tricks in their mind all caused by Bill's actions, for they knew the familiar feeling all too well.

Fin.

So Wilson lived. I thought it would teach House a better lesson. And it would be rare for somebody to die from what happened to Wilson.

I had a very fun time writing this. When I started, I had no idea where I came up with the idea, or how the rest was going to go. All I wanted was for House to be in a tough situation.

The way I made House in this I did on purpose. On multiple occasions, we have seen where House in fact does have emotions and the ability to have compassion for others. So in this I wanted to showcase it and at the same time keep him character, which is really hard to do. (House is the hardest character to write, followed by Cuddy.) House is not a jerk all the time. I just closed my eyes and thought of what he would do and say when something like this happened, and also the same for the other characters. And NO, I didn't imply that Wilson and House are gay in this. Two men can care for each other and cry if they think the other is dying without being gay. I think Wilson is the person that House loves most in the world (in a friend way), so his reaction to Wilson's "death" I feel is genuine.

And I ended on a kind of ambiguous note because how can someone go through what they did without being changed?

So...that's it. I might do a alternative ending if my muse strikes me, but it will be after I start Silence. So thank you so much for reading and sticking with me the whole time.

And if you ever want to chat about House episodes or other stuff, or ask me a question, you can always send me a PM. I always answer.

-Rev