Okay, here is the next chapter, which will answer A LOT of questions that you all had.

I mentioned it was out of the box…and I was right…the stalking isn't thrilling everyone, but believe me, there is a reason for it. It wraps up the whole ending. Stay with me, ok? Lol ENJOY! Steph

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"Bill me," she said, trying to force a smile. "Where were you hiding? You always work in the dark?" she asked, her voice not sounding right to her.

"Yep, get more work done that way," he said, noticing her speech was slightly slurred.

She started to walk toward him. Her steps were uneven and wobbly and her right arm covered her stomach. Her face was pained and she had to grab the chair for a brief moment to wait for the pain to subside.

"Are you okay?" he asked but didn't take a step to her.

"No, I…it's…yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said unconvincingly. "I just have the flu or something."

Just as she said that she put her hand to her forehead then collapsed to the floor, landing on her stomach. He threw his head back and walked to her with little concern, thinking she was just drunk or high. He slowly knelt down beside her, grabbed her shoulder and turned her over gently.

"Debra, DEBRA!" House said loudly, hopefully looking for some kind of response from her but there was none.

House looked down at her sweater-covered arm that had been over her stomach and thought he saw the lower arm shaded a deeper red than the light pink it should have been. He then looked at her stomach area and saw a wider blood stain. He reached down and unzipped her sweater up to her belly, pulled it apart and gasped at the amount of blood on her turtleneck sweater. Calmly, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

"This is House. I need a gurney in my office NOW!"

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

Several hours later, around 3:00, Debra was finally in the recovery room after emergency surgery and she was still out from the anesthesia. She had an oxygen tube in her nostrils, I.V. in her arm but overall looked healthy.

Sitting beside her was Wilson, in a chair by the window and reading a Reader's Digest, with little interest. What interested him the most was why House had asked him to stay with this particular patient while he went back to his apartment to check up on Cameron while Debra had been in surgery.

It was a simple case, nothing mysterious, a case House would never have given a second thought to treat. Wilson had looked at her chart earlier but nothing stuck out that would have clued him in to who she was. The information on the registration form was completely bogus, though, which made Wilson conclude House had completed it. But why?

'Debra Laurie…SINGLE GUNSHOT WOUND…Bullet entered fleshy area three inches from hip in stomach area, non-life threatening; exited fleshy hip area; minor shrapnel found, no bullet…AGE: 41…RESIDENCE: West Hollywood…SPOUSE: Hugh Laurie, brilliant actor…6'3" and gorgeous---Laurie, not patient…MEDICAL INFORMATION: Greg House, Vicodinville, NJ…'

Oh, God. Please don't tell me she's a hooker! Wilson thought as he shook his head and tried not to laugh. A moment later, a soft, throaty groan came from the bed and Wilson looked up to find Debra looking at him with her eyes half open.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" he asked as he stood up and walked to her side.

"Great," she mumbled. "What happened?"

"You were shot," House said from the foot of the bed he'd snuck up on. "It seems like we have more in common than just our awesome blue eyes."

Wilson's eyes rose with interest at House's comment but he didn't say anything.

" Wilson, I'm back from checking on Cameron. Thanks, you're done," House said, but Wilson didn't seem to understand. "Uh, bye."

"Oh, uh, sure," Wilson answered and walked out.

"So, you were cleaning your gun and it went off?" House said skeptically.

She nodded her head but he didn't leave her alone.

"No, you wouldn't shoot cute, little Bambi so you wouldn't have a gun. Got drunk at a bar and get in a fight over a hottie? Tried to outrun the security guard at the airport? No? The cabbie shot you because you didn't pay the fare?"

She didn't answer him but turned her head away from him, her face contorting in pain. "I just got in the way of a bullet. No biggie."

He sniggered, turned to the I.V. box and clicked a few buttons. She slowly started to moan loudly in pain because he had turned down the morphine being administered through the I.V.

"Sorry, can't let you get high again until you tell me the truth." Debra didn't acknowledge his comment so he continued. "Debbie, you're not supposed to lie to family."

"You're not family. You're my doctor now. Cancels it out."

"Okay, fine. Are you gonna tell me who shot you, then?"

"Wasn't planning on it," she said softly as she turned to look at him again. "Please, are you gonna give me something for the pain?" she pleaded, heavy tears gradually running from the corner of her eyes.

"Wasn't planning on it. Do your parents even know you're here?"

"Yeah, just not that I was…"

Debra suddenly grabbed her stomach and bent her knees, hoping that would stop the pain but it didn't. This time her screams were louder and more forceful in begging for the pain killer.

"House?! What the hell are you doing?" Cuddy asked as she rushed into the room to the I.V. box and upped the morphine.

"Cuddy! I didn't get my answer," House whined.

"Thnnnx," Debra mumbled as her eyes slowly began to flutter and finally close, her breathing becoming steady and strong.

"Outside," Cuddy demanded.

"What? You're not the boss 'a me!"

"Yes, I am, eight hours a day. Now," she ordered as she left the room, with House eventually following her out into the hall.

" Wilson came to me and told me you and Debra are related somehow. I don't think you should be her physician."

"Why not? At least I won't kill her."

"House, take this seriously. She came in with a gunshot wound. I need to contact the police with violent…"

"I know, I know. I tried to find out but…"

"She's just as stubborn as you?" Cuddy joked.

"Yeah. Give me 24 hours?" House asked hopefully.

"For what?"

"For the truth of what happened to her."

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

About an hour later, House was back in Debra's room, trying his hardest to get her to tell him the truth.

"Greg, you can give me a mammogram and pinch the hell out of my breasts, give me a lumbar puncture – I hear they are painful – pull as many teeth as you want without giving me novacaine, but I will NOT tell you!" Debra said defiantly. "Does it matter who shot me? The bullet is out, I'm better..."

"Debra, you do realize that if you don't tell me who it was, I'm going to have to call the police. It's hospital policy with violent events."

"I don't care."

"What is your problem?! You go back home to the person who shot you and they finish the job? Great, let me know so I can ask for leave for your funeral."

"Don't worry about it. God, you are NOT my father. Lay off!"

"Hey! You came here; I did NOT come to you!" House shouted.

Debra looked out the window trying to control her anger she felt building up within her. "Release me and I'll go home…leave you alone."

House sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and walked out of the room.

Oh, and in case you are thinking, "yeah, right, Debra got shot and got no help after a day"…what I was thinking but didn't express/tell was that while there was loss of blood, she toughed it out just to make it to House's because she felt that was the only place she felt safe; she was going into shock if that helps? lol My mom pointed that one out. Lol

I thought of this chapter like, a week ago, and just wizzed through chapters 23-26. I lie in bed a pretend I'm Debra and get GREAT dialogue. Let's just say I'd never make it as an actress. lol