CHAPTER THIRTY

"Hell, I hit House!" Foreman said as he went back outside where Debra was waiting for him.

"You did what? Where?"

"Ribs…stomach…Where are the damned cops?" Foreman asked desperately.

"This has gone too far!" Debra exclaimed.

She started to walk through the building entrance door when Foreman tried to stop her.

"Eric, this is all my fault. I never meant for this to happen; I never dreamed it would happen. He wants me, and I'm the only one he's going to get."

She walked through the door and approached the door marked 'B'.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

House barely managed to make it to the couch, despite the fact he had to bend over from the intense pain then sat down, hard, the whole time moaning.

"What do you think you are trying to pull? Do you think I'm an idiot?" Jerry asked irately.

"Yep," House answered, rocking a bit hoping the pain would subside but knowing it wouldn't.

He managed to reach in his pocket and only then remembered he only put two vicodin pills and already took them; the rest were morphine. Ah, better for him, but he didn't want to be so numb he wouldn't be able to react if something happened. Besides, he figured if he were in severe pain, it would at least keep him somewhat conscious. He knew he wasn't in any type of shape to attack him, which made him feel very helpless.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door which distracted Jerry from House.

"Who is it?! Go away!" Jerry screamed at the door.

"Jerry, it's Debra. Please let me in!" she asked, her voice gentle and calm, yet her heart was pounding in her chest and her hands were shaking from nerves.

Jerry was dumbstruck. He didn't really know what to do.

"Guess you don't need me to call the hospital to find out if she's dead, huh?" House asked mockingly under his breath.

"Shut up! I heard that!" Jerry barked.

"Please, don't hurt anyone else. Let me in and we'll talk, okay?" Debra begged.

Jerry approached the door, unlatched the security chain and slowly opened the door.

"Who…who else is with you?"

"No one, Jerry, no one. It's just me."

"Where's that other guy?"

"Outside. Please, Jerry, I want to talk this out with you."

He opened the door but only wide enough for her to allow her through. She eased by him slowly before he slammed the door and set the latch again.

"Greg…Gr…" Debra started to say but Jerry interrupted her.

"Don't talk to him! Sit over there!" Jerry ordered, waving the gun to her face.

She did as she was told but kept her eyes on House to see if he was seriously hurt. She saw him wink at her and knew he was fine, or hurt not too badly. She then turned her attention to Jerry.

"Jerry, please, you want me, not him. Please, let him go?" she pleaded, which fell on deaf ears.

"NO! How could you cheat on me?!"

"Jerry, he's my cousin! Why don't you believe me?! I've never lied to you before."

Jerry shook his head as if he were confused.

"I just want you to come home, baby. I want things the way they used to be," he said gently, his voice sounding slightly hopeful.

"You know I can't do that," she answered; the peace she wanted had suddenly gone out the window.

Jerry lost all control. He walked over to the chair Debra was sitting in and flipped over the small end table, sending a crystal tray and lamp crashing to the floor.

"Then you're dead!" he screamed then looked puzzled. "And why not?"

She looked at him confused, but only to gain some time said, "Why not what?"

"Why don't you want to come home with me? See, it's him, isn't it? I should have killed him in the car…" he ranted, pointing the gun at House's face.

"Because you'll hurt me again…" she answered before she was interrupted.

"How…House?" came a muted voice from the bedroom.

House turned and looked in the bedroom - he saw Cameron sitting up and looking at him baffled.

"What was that noise?" she asked.

Firstly, House was alarmed because now that she was in the picture she was in just as much danger as he and Debra.

"Nothing, Cameron. Go back to sleep," House told her.

Secondly, House was puzzled by the fact she called him 'House.' Of course, that was his name, but that also meant something else.

"What…wait…" she mumbled then it grew quiet in the bedroom.

Several minutes passed silently in the living room. House and Debra were afraid to say anything to him. A moment later the toilet flushed and she appeared in the hallway then stood still.

House turned to face Cameron. He thought if he didn't make a big deal out of Cameron being in the picture now, maybe she'd be safe; he really didn't have any other choice.

"How about that drink now?" House asked again, hoping he'd accept this time and he could slip the morphine pills in the drink to knock him out.

"No, and I'm getting tired of this. Either you come home with me or this louse is dead!" Jerry threatened, looking at Debra but pointing the gun at House.

A noise from the street interrupted him. It was a megaphone with a voice asking, or telling, Jerry to come out or let the hostages go – that they'd talk. House looked outside his window and did notice a huge truck, armored, he thought.

Jerry shook his head from side to side and lowered the gun just a little, as if struggling with what to do next. Debra caught House's expression in the corner of her eye but ignored him. She stood up and approached him.

"House…what's…oh," Cameron said when she'd walked into the room, using the walker, and saw House sitting on the couch and a woman she didn't know walking toward a man she didn't know. "Uh, what's going on, House?"

"Shut up!" Jerry said, taking the gun's aim from House to Cameron, the whole time keeping his eyes on Debra.

When House saw the gun aimed at Cameron, his blood boiled. The anger was building up inside him and luckily the pain had subsided a bit, but he wasn't sure how long it would, but he had to try...something.

"Jerry, listen, let Cameron go, okay? You can see she's already hurt," Debra said when she reached about five feet from him.

"No, she means nothing, but I don't want her. I want him dead pointing the gun back at House , and I want you home." Jerry told her angrily.

Jerry's whole demeanor had changed, making him very unpredictable to House now. If he tried anything he could risk Cameron's life, which he wasn't about to do. He found it strange he was more worried about Cameron than he was about his own cousin.

House coughed, and he wiped his mouth. Taking his hand away he noticed a portion of his forefinger was red with blood, which meant he had begun to bleed internally. Neither Jerry nor Debra noticed, but Cameron did. She took a few steps towards him, approaching the back, until Jerry pointed the gun at Cameron again.

"Jerry, hun, look…put the gun down and we'll talk…NO!" she screamed when she saw the gun change aim.

"Please, let's talk, ok? Leave her out of it," she insisted. "She only wants to check on Greg. I'll go home with you, ok? That's what you want, isn't it?" she asked sweet and sincere, all the while faking very well.

Debra was still five feet from Jerry but easing herself closer to him. She didn't see Cameron approach the couch at first, but when she did she realized Cameron had just tripped on the edge of the carpet and was about to fall; she knew House wouldn't have been able to move quickly enough to catch her.

Debra rushed to Cameron to catch her when she did fall; she never really thought about it, it just happened. Everything happened so fast it was difficult for anyone to keep their eyes on one particular person. Debra grabbed Cameron's elbow and upper arm and pulled her up, keeping Cameron's weight on her.

As they both caught their balance, Debra turned around to look at Jerry when she saw the gun aimed at them and screamed. But it was too late.