Haunted Chapter 15
A light wind tells her when he comes toward her, the sound of his breath getting louder. As his hand touches her cheek, he asks: "Why don´t we talk about us? We could start with you trying to kill me."
His words echo in the dark room, filling Cameron's ears as she tries to understand his words and his question. Her head still feels dizzy, her body sleepy. The burning touch, coming from his fingers on her cheek, seems almost impossible to bear. She turns her head a little to the side, but his hand follows her face.
"Don´t …t…touch me."
"Don´t tell me what to do." He laughs as Cameron tries to pull away from his touch.
"So, I'm still waiting for an answer." His laughter had stopped, and is replaced by an icy voice.
"I…protected my…myself." Telling him the truth is the only thing she can think of to do right now. Her mind is too dizzy, too shocked to even think of another way to deal with him right now.
"And the first idea you came up with to…protect yourself… was to shoot me?" His face looks somewhat hurt.
"Yes." A single word, a single whisper that fills the room with its truth. It is the only audible sound besides their breathing before Jared makes a noise as he lifts his shirt, revealing the scar on his chest.
"Look what you´ve done, Cameron."
House looks suspicious to Dr. Tiek, her last words still in his head.
"And do you have any idea what his final move may be?" Dr. Tiek shrugs her shoulder, unsure of what to say. Adding more angst and fear by telling her theory doesn´t seem to be a good move right now. At least not in Dr. Houses presence.
"I still can´t believe all this. I don´t understand it. He's supposed to be dead!" Cuddy´s voice becomes hysterical, her body language showing her anger. Her eyes move back and forth between the therapist and House, but neither of them can offer her reassurance, or the answers she is looking for. She lets herself fall into one of the blue armchairs, resting her head in her hands. "I just don´t get it. All these years we've thought that he was dead. We had no reason to believe otherwise. He completely fooled us."
"You see, Cuddy, that´s what makes sociopaths, and psychopaths as well, as dangerous as they are. They are very intelligent, at least the most of them. They have the ability to build a plan, a very smart plan. And they have the patience to carry out their plan, right down to the smallest detail, often watching and waiting for a long time for the right opportunity."
"That still gives us no answer to how and who and why. How did he survive in the first place? Who helped him? And why after waiting so long? As interesting as your little profiling may be, Dr. Tiek, it´s not helping us. All you´ve said and all the theory's you´ve stated? I don´t need you to know all of that. Not really."
Both Cuddy and Dr. Tiek are looking surprised at House, whose eyes are closed, his head hanging down. House´s cane reminds them of the ticking of a clock as he knocks it on the white carpet, not even fully aware of his own movements.
"House, she is only trying to help us."
"Well, if that´s all she can do to help us, than we´re better off without her." His voice sounds angry, cutting. He stands up, giving the therapist the evil eye while moving toward the front door.
"Where are you going?" Cuddy intends to follow him, but House stops her with his cane.
"I´m doing what I always do. I go snooping. You stay here. Maybe our great therapist can´t help us dealing with that Jared guy, but maybe she can help you." He looks straight into her eyes, seeing her surprise.
"What? Look at you. You´re not really any help either. You still can´t even believe what´s going on here, not to mention the fact that your charming brother is walking around. No, you stay here, I'll come back."
Not giving Cuddy any chance to reply, he leaves the house, making his way to his car without looking back.
"I said, look what you´ve done, Cameron." His hand grabs her chin, forcing her to look at his chest.
"I spend months recovering from that wound, from the visible wound. Not to speak of the other wounds you caused me."
Despite the dangerous situation she is in, Cameron suddenly feels the urge to laugh at his last words. How hurt they sounded!
"Want to tell me what´s so funny, Cameron?" His voice is almost a whisper, and Cameron knows that this is a sign that he is about to lose his patience. The lower his voice gets, the angrier he is.
"You…you speak about your wounds. What about m…mine? Can´t you see that I just…I did what…what I had to do?" Her head is still too dizzy for her to speak fluently, and her mouth is dry, so dry.
"I am sorry, Darling. How could I forget your wounds? Do you need me to take care of them? I do that. I do everything for you." He moves closer, his eyes scanning her face, his hands coming toward her. Suddenly, Cameron regrets her words. His almost gentle words are always betrayed by his subsequent actions; the past had taught her that. Intuitively, her body stiffens, trying to lean further into the chair she is sitting on.
"Well, let me see your shoulder blade."
He should have done that in the first place. Not bothering with the police´s barrier tape, House enters Cameron´s apartment, closing the door softly behind him. He still felt that it was a waste of time to listen to the therapist's words. Precious time. His bullet wound hurts, but he ignores it.
He decides to start in her living-room, remembering the police officer talking about the camera they had found in there. That crafty little bastard. The whole time he had listened, had heard all of the conversation. He had watched and sure as hell had felt his power. But the real question behind that was the how long. How long had he watched and listened? One day, one week or one month? How long had the camera been there? House feels sick enough just by knowing that this son of a bitch had watched the whole conversation yesterday, and he can´t help but feel even more sick thinking about the possibility that Cameron had been watched all along.
"You know, I watched you for quite some time. Weeks, to be more precise. You seem to have a hard time. Like something is bothering you. Is that so? Is something bothering you?" He stands behind her, his fingers traveling over the scarred over skin on her shoulder.
"Mmhhm."
"It´s okay, I understand. But now, everything will be fine."
He found nothing new in her living-room. House begins to feel frustrated as he too finds nothing in her kitchen and bathroom. The only room left was her bedroom. He starts searching through her wardrobe, moving over to her nightstand, even searching under her bed, finding nothing. Damn! He has to find something! There was always evidence in the patients apartments, it can´t be different in this case. He won't accept that. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, House sees a brown box, siting under her window, locked up tight. He goes back into the kitchen, grabs a knife and returns to the box, cracking the lock within seconds.
Opening the box, he finds only a single folder and a bundle of letters. Grabbing the folder, he reads the word on it. "Patient report." Suddenly feeling unsure of what to do, House sits down on her bed, looking down at the papers in his hands. This must be it. The original report. Opening it, the first thing he sees is a picture of Cameron, lying in a bed, surrounded by medical instruments. He knows then that he will never be able to forget the look of her face. The colors, the pain. And reading further, he´s almost sure that he will never forget a single word of the report. Nobody could. After reading the last page, House slowly stands up, goes into the bathroom and vomits in to the toilet. Knowing the truth behind Cameron´s lies is hard to take; but knowing that she´s again in the power of that…monster is impossible to bear. He has to find her. He just has to. Fast. It is not a puzzle any more. And maybe it never was.
The first thing she becomes aware of is the pain coming from her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she sees that she is no longer sitting in the chair. Now she lies on a bed in a different room. And this room isn´t surrounded by darkness. The lights coming from the ceiling are almost too bright, hurting her eyes, but she refuses the urge to close them. Looking around, she almost screams as she sees Jared standing in the door. Without saying a word he turns out the lights and closes the door. And Cameron is not able to tell if he left the room or not.