Thanks for all the reviews. At least I know I'm doing something right.

Ok, I know things are rough between H & Cam, but it'll pick up. Hope you enjoy. Steph

CHAPTER FOUR

Cameron grinned lightly but she didn't jump into the bed right away when House invited her to his bed.

"House, you have to talk to Wilson. He feels bad…"

"That's not really my problem, is it?" he answered coldly.

She shook her head at his pig-headedness. "Look, I know you're hurt by what he and Cuddy did but you can't stay mad at them forever."

House frowned and anger crossed his face. "I don't need a counselor, Cameron."

"Okay, okay. Sorry," she said angrily and limped back to her bed.

Cameron had worked with House for three years, and he never got any easier to understand. Sometimes she felt the need to make him realize how thoughtless or stupid he was being and tried to support him; other times she didn't have the strength. All she knew was she was relieved she was going home, because he was being a bstard going from being sweet as heII to nasty as heII.

When House woke up later that morning he was ready to go home himself. He had to check on Debra; no one was giving him too much information on her and he needed to see her. He didn't want to leave the hospital but he had to be with her.

And he also needed to talk to Cameron before she left to go home that day. He did feel bad after he snipped at her. He hated it when he did that, not often, but it happens. Talking before thinking has its' consequences that House has never quite picked up the knack for.

He sat up and looked at her bed but it was completely stripped and ready for new, clean sheets for the next patient. He called for the nurse and when she came in he was told she had already been discharged.

Oh, great.

House had pi$$ed two friends and thrown away a good thing with Cameron, although there really hadn't been anything between them yet.

He knew he should have left her alone! He had to have been crazy to have asked her out. He sighed deeply and got out of bed, brushed his teeth, combed what little hair he had on the top of his head and ran his fingers over his too-stubbly chin. He hated when it got this long…shaving was always worse when it was.

He slipped on his robe and slippers and left the room to find Debra. He went two floors up to the I.C.U. He asked the nurse at the station which bed was hers and was directed to the bed at the end of a four-bed unit. The curtain was drawn around the bed.

He took a deep breath and pulled back the curtain, afraid to see what he'd find. But Debra was sleeping peacefully. He walked to the vital monitor and all her stats were normal. He was greatly relieved.

He walked to the other side of her bed, pulled up a chair and sat down, looking at her. But he really wasn't thinking about her. He was thinking of Cameron. He really did want to go out with her again, this time with them both understanding that they are damaged, and can maybe just be happy being damaged together.

"House?" came a male voice at the end of the bed.

He was so deep in thought he jumped a little and jerked his head to where the voice came from. It was Wilson.

House frowned, angrily at Wilson then turned his attention back to Debra.

"House, you've got to talk to me."

"No, I don't."

"Oh, come on! I was the one with the butt of the gun jammed into my temple…thanks for asking, by the way."

There was silence between the two men – Wilson didn't know what to say and House didn't want to say anything.

"Look, we've been mad at each other before. Why can't you understand why we did what we did?" Wilson finally spoke.

"Because they never involved someone I…" House started to say before he was interrupted.

"…ill eww two stap fi'ing? T'ying to seep 'ere."

House's eyes flew open and he leaned in closer so he could hear her clearly.

"Debra…hey, it's Greg," he said as he lightly touched her forearm. "How are you feeling?"

She smacked her lips a few times because her mouth was extremely dry. She couldn't open her eyes at first, but she struggled and finally forced them open.

"Not sure…" she mumbled, slowly coming around, her speech becoming clearer and more understandable. "Ask me in like a year."

House didn't know whether he should laugh or not, not knowing whether she was just joking or not. He caught motion out of his right eye and looked to see Wilson quietly sneak out of the room.

"House, don't fight with James and Lisa. I asked them not to tell you the whole story."

James? Lisa? What?? When had she talked to…oh, of course.

House didn't know what to say. That never occurred to him. Now he felt like a complete idiot, about his friends and Cameron.

"It doesn't matter. We've fought before," House finally said.

"Is he…dead?" she asked, barely audible.

"Yes."

She nodded her head and closed her eyes. "Greg, I am sooo sorry I put and your friends in danger, really I am."

"Hey, no one was hurt…" He swallowed his words hard when he realized what he'd said. No one was hurt but you almost died.

"Mom and Daaa' arn't commming'" she whispered, her voice trailing off into sleep again.

House was flabbergasted. Her own parents weren't coming to see their only daughter as she lay in critical condition after a heart transplant? He laughed softly under his breath and shook his head. Figures. That's a House for ya!

"Get some sleep, ok? You have a lot of recovering to do, Missy!"

She nodded her head and was asleep in seconds.

His heart broke for her, and he couldn't find the words to make her feel better even if she were still awake. House wanted to go home and just hide in his apartment and not see anyone for a month. Why not? Cuddy had given him a month medical leave, and he could always call and check on Debra every day.

But she had no other family there in Jersey except him, and he couldn't let her feel abandoned. There were two things he had to take care of before he left the hospital that day: one, 'apologize' to Cuddy and Wilson for blowing up on them, and two, asking Wilson to keep an eye on her while she was in the hospital.

After she was discharged, he didn't know what he would do; she certainly wouldn't be in the best health to travel back to Michigan. But he had at least two weeks to worry about that.