I don't know what made me think of the sodium pentathol House used on Debra, but I thought that was sooo him. lol It was like he knows how stubborn she is because she's a "House" meaning last name , and he'd never get the truth from her unless he did something drastic.

Sorry if I did confuse some…let me just do a little synopsis to chapter 26.

Cam kissed a bus and thinks she's in a relationship with House after she suffered brain damage. For her benefit he went along with it and stayed at his place while she recouped. After going home to MI after his dad needed surgery, he saw his cousin, Debra, who he got along with very, very well and were somewhat close as kids. A few days later, Debra came to PPTH to see House because she was in trouble with her ex, Jerry and needed to hide. He'd shot her in the fleshy part of her stomach and only caused minimal damage, other than blood loss. Jerry knows where House lives and goes to find Debra to kill her and House, who'd been stalking House's apartment. He finally realizes that the panic he feels about Cameron could be he DOES care about her; starting to finally comes to terms with it. Calm down, I said 'starting'. lol

So, there we have it. House now has to go check on Cameron

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

House picked up the phone by Debra's bed and called his home number. He only got the answering machine. He dialed Cameron's cell phone. He got the voice mail.

He cursed and slammed the phone down. As he walked out of her room he called Wilson on his cell phone and ordered him to meet him down in the lobby then hung up. He then called Foreman and told him to immediately go and stay with Debra, never leaving her for any reason until he got back or, 'he'll get a tonsillectomy through his buttocks.'

As House got off the elevator he saw Wilson turning the corner putting on his jacket.

"What the hell is the emergency?" he asked as they walked out the entrance

House didn't answer as they continued to walk towards Wilson's car.

"Does this have anything to do with Debra 'Laurie'? You could have come up with a better last name than that. But, admittedly, the patient information was pretty funny," Wilson said as he unlocked the driver's door with the remote key then faced House.

"Seriously, who is she? She's not a hooker, is she?"

House scowled at him. "Damnit, she's my cousin. Wilson, shut up and get in the car!"

That was good enough for Wilson. He unlocked the passenger door, sat in the seat and turned on the ignition.

House opened the door and had just put his left leg in when an excruciating pain seared through his right thigh. The sharp pain started from his thigh, migrated south to his toes and as far north as his shoulder. He screamed in pain and lost his balance. He put all his weight on his left leg and turned to see what caused it because he had never had such severe pain before, except for right after surgery.

House saw a man, about 6'0, 250 lbs of pure muscle, no fat, and the eyes of satan himself, standing on the other side of the opened door with a pleasing smirk on his face.

"What the …" House started to say as he rubbed his leg but the next thing he knew he was shoved onto the passenger's seat and heard the back door open then felt the weight of the car shake as the stranger sat in the back.

Wilson stayed quiet the whole time, and there was a reason for it. It wasn't because he was scared. It was because the man was half a foot taller, not a big challenge, but twice his weight. The man could squash Wilson and feed him to the man's alligators. Okay, he was quiet because he was scared.

"Let's drive," the man said evily.

"'fraid not," House said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Wilson turned in the direction of House's apartment, hoping the man didn't have any particular location in mind and they'd be able to make it there.

"We're going to my …if you did anything to Cameron I'll kill you, I swear," House warned, but not in either a very convincing or intimidating threat.

"SHUT UP and drive, buddy," the man ordered

After the pain subsided a bit, House turned to face the man. He checked him over up and down.

"Mr. Ex, I presume?"

"Presumably. Name's Jerry. And you're Greg, I presume."

"Okay, first of all, stop using the word 'presume.' You ain't even using it rightly; she was right – you are a moron," House dared to say.

Jerry's eyes became narrow slits as he kept his gaze at House, while he never took his eyes off of Jerry's.

"We're going to my place and if you don't like it then tough sh…" House started.

House stopped talking because he had a revolver misshaping his tip of his nose.

"Fine. Guess I could add one more." Jerry said.

"Add one more what?" House just had to ask.

"One more killin'."

Wilson's tongue found its way down his throat at those words. "House, just shut the hell up, will you! You'll get us all killed!"

House turned and faced the front window. Thoughts ran through his mind as to what to do. Of all the Westerns he'd ever seen, he could think of nothing to get out of this jam. He only hoped he'd be able to lay some ground when he got to his apartment. Oh, and to check to make sure Cameron was still alive or not.

"Well, of course, Debra's death won't really count for me. Someone else is taking care of her. But I sure wish I could have done it myself. Well, good riddance to bad trash, my mama used to say.

"You were easy to follow this morning; followed 'ya when you left for work. I was gonna surprise ya when you came back home, but I decided against that at the last minute. Figured I would just take care of you and Debra at the same time at the hospital."

"How did you know she was even there? She was never at my apartment," House asked.

"Oh, I got sources at Princeton. Guess that ho thought she could show up there instead and I wouldn't find out. But her parents…so sweet. They gave me all the information I needed, which really wasn't much."

"Dude, you got it all wrong! Debra and I are not seeing each other!" House said, hoping that would appease the madman, but he knew it wouldn't.

"And why shouldn't I believe you?"

House thought a moment, reached into his back pocket and pulled out one thin wallet and a thicker one. He opened them to the picture ID in the front and showed them both to Jerry.

"Because we are cousins! See, same last name!"

"No, no. Oh, wait, you two married?? That's it! Oh, I'm gonna enjoy the hell out of killing you!"

"We're here," Wilson said, practically whispering, as he parked across the street from House's apartment.

Wilson turned to look at House to see what he was going to do, and House could only watch as Jerry brought the butt of the gun down on Wilson's right temple.

"What the hell did you do that for?" House said as he tried to catch Wilson as he slumped across the tape holder in between the seats.

"I don't have the heart to kill him; he has such a baby face." He got out of the car and opened the passenger door.

"Come on, let's go across the street. 'm watching you so don't make any sudden moves. The gun is gonna be pressed against your back as a reminder, got it?"

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

Back at PPTH, Foreman was quietly seething over the fact he had to 'babysit' a patient. He had a date with Wendy and was supposed to meet her at 7:00. He took the last sip of water from the bottle and it went right through him: he had to use the bathroom.

Sure, House told him to stay and not leave Debra alone, but he couldn't have meant not even to pee. He would just take his chances, only because he didn't have an extra pair of pants to change in to and wasn't about to meet Wendy in pee-soaked pants.

Foreman left her room, telling Brenda, the afternoon nurse at the station outside, to keep an eye on her. He walked down the hall, turned the corner – the whole time thinking that House told him to stay, and he should really stay. He'd disobeyed House plenty of times, but if House told him to stay, he should have stayed.

He grabbed a clean bedpan from the nurse's closet, turned and walked back to Debra's room. He heard a hushed gurgling noise come from her room and rushed in to find Brenda standing by her bed.

"What happened?" he asked as he rushed to her bedside.

Debra's eyes were pleading to him to help her as her throat slowly closed up and she found it harder and harder to breath.

"I need a crash cart in here now!" Foreman ordered Brenda.

As Brenda walked out of the room, rather calmly and too slowly for any emergency, she slipped the syringe into her right pocket while she felt the wad of cash in her left.