A/N: I feel so horribly sorry for the lack of update. I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible. Huge thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I'm so glad that you're all enjoying this story just as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

Detective Sam Pritchett walked down the hall of the police department. He tried to stifle down a yawn but failed miserably. It had been a horrible week, and the stress and heavy workload didn't seem to cease at all. That fact alone made his day even more miserable than before. He decided that he needed a very long, and much needed holiday. He walked through double doors into an office space where fellow officers and detectives sat slumped in their seats with bleary eyes, most of them were finishing their night shift and the seven o'clock exhaustion had settled in on them. He scurried past them and opened the door to his office. It was small, but tidy, and well organized, the walls were covered with bookcases, and filing cabinet. He fell into his office chair and sighed tiredly. He turned on the computer and listened to the soft hum as it started. He waited patiently for the windows to open up and clicked on the file in the right corner of the screen. He was reading over it when he heard a small knock on the door. His brown eyes shot up briefly and he muttered a low 'come in'.

His eyes didn't move from the screen when the door opened and closed.

"Gosh I had the worst morning." He heard a loud moan.

"Good morning to you to." He muttered.

"Oh shut up."

He smirked and looked over the computer screen at the hunched person that stood in front of him. His former student and comrade slumped down on the sofa that had been squished into the corner of the office.

Katherine Jennings was perhaps not the quintessential officer of the law. Her blonde hair, blue eyes and slim physique didn't quite give her the right impression, but once she opened her mouth her appearances were long forgotten. She was tough as nails, and not the least intimidated by the other officers who in time had accepted her for what she was. She was a bimbo with a brain, and guts.

Over the last four years she had become his most trusted and dearest friend.

"I had the shift with Kenny, of all people, and all he kept blabbing about was his newfound love for 80's music, and kept playing it over and over again. I was this close to strangle him." She raised her thumb and wisdom finger up with few inches apart. He kept staring at the computer screen, and didn't show any sign that he was listening to her.

She propped her legs over the armrest and watched him out of the corner of her eye.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah." He muttered but didn't look up from the computer screen.

"Oh no, what's wrong?"

"Everything's fine." He muttered absentmindedly.

"I heard you were taking care of that doctor's case."

He didn't answer and kept staring at the screen.

"This just doesn't make any sense." He muttered more to himself than to her.

He heard her shift in her seat and stand up.

"Okay what's going on?"

"Look at that." He stared at the screen.

She walked over to him, and leaned against the desk so she could get a better look of the computer screen where a series of stills from a security camera rowed down the screen. Pritchett clicked on one of them and zoomed to the blurry background.

"Do you think that this would be enough evidence to hold a man for a week?"

Katherine squinted her eyes so she could focus better.

"Didn't you put this through the tech department, they must be able to clear the image."

"This is the clearer image."

"Oh." She leaned down again and shook her head. "I would think that's not nearly enough evidence to hold the man. Don't they have any more proof than a bunch of blurry photos?"

"They have the victim's testimony, and they took some samples which are still in the lab."

"So you think there's something more to this?"

"Don't you?"

"Well…this is suspicious, but I refuse to believe that they would hold someone in custody because they can."

Pritchett raised his eyebrows.

"You don't? Remember the Fawcett case a few years ago? If I remember correctly the judge took a good lot of money to proof him innocent, and what did the governor do? Nothing, because that's the reality of today's society."

"But…Come on Sam, who would bribe the judge for something like this?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to figure it out." He said sternly.

Katherine raised her eyebrows and took the open file from the table and rummaged through it. Pritchett didn't give her any notice and continued to examine the pictures on the computer.

"Hmm." She muttered and tapped her finger against the file. "She went straight to the clinic after she was raped?"

"According to her and other witnesses yes."

"You're right, something's not right here." She looked up and frowned. "I have investigated a fair few sexual assault cases and I would say that approximately 10% go straight to the hospital for an examination. Most victims experience shock, and shame so the most common reaction is to wait, especially if the rapist is someone you meet in everyday life."

"That's what I thought." He muttered. "This just doesn't seem right to me. I'm not saying that he's innocent, but something doesn't quite fit."

"How?"

"First of all he didn't recognize the name of the victim."

"That doesn't proof anything. Most rapists don't even know their own victims and some don't even memorize how they look like."

"I have worked with offenders for years. I know how they think. I know when someone is telling the truth and when someone is lying. We have kept him here for a whole week and he doesn't break. Also there are countless of other reasons that state that he didn't do what he's accused of."

"But what if he's guilty? I'm not saying that you aren't right, but I'm afraid that you aren't quite objective about this. I saw the news, I know what happened to his girlfriend."

Pritchett's face twitched, his jaw set and his brown eyes darkened.

"The situations aren't even remotely alike and you know it. I told you not to mention the incident ever again, so I ask of you to drop your assumptions."

"Okay. I'm sorry." She said fleetingly.

Pritchett didn't say anything and looked away from her face and to the computer screen. Soon complete silence filled the room. Katherine bit her lip then finally muttered.

"Sam. I know how you think; you don't just make assumptions like that without any reason, but please just think for a minute. Don't make any official documents about your doubts. Don't go marching into the judge's office and demand his release, just take it slowly and do your job. I'll help you gather evidence and if we find enough reason to believe that he isn't guilty, then we can bring it to authority, but let's be rational."

Pritchett didn't say anything, but his silence told her more than any answer he could have given.

"Do you want me to talk to him? Get a second opinion."

"No. I'll talk to him myself."

Katherine sighed and leaned in her seat and opened the file again to view the information she had merely scanned over few minutes prior.

She glanced at her watch and suddenly remembered that she had a lot of other things to do, and stood up from her chair. She glanced at Pritchett who hunched over the computer screen, his mind completely elsewhere and opened the door. Suddenly a thought came to her mind.

"Hey Sam."

He looked up to meet her thoughtful gaze.

"There's one other thing."

"And what's that?"

"If I would have been raped few hours prior, I wouldn't want a man examining me, just saying." She dropped the file on the table and turned around, leaving him alone in his office.

Pritchett frowned and grabbed the file off the table and examined the doctor's name. He stood up from his chair and walked out of the office.

He marched down the hall and went to the first floor where he stopped by the security area where he approached one of the guards.

"I need to speak with Dr. House."

"I doubt he want's to speak with you. He refused to meet our protocol this morning, and yesterday morning. We thought it was best to leave him alone."

"Just let me in. I'll speak with him myself."

"You sure?"

"I doubt he will do anything." Pritchett said surely.

Pritchett was buzzed through and he walked to the prison door that buzzed open and he stepped inside. It closed right after he entered the tiny cell. The security guard that had followed him waited outside.

Pritchett watched the hunched figure of Dr. House in the corner of the room. He looked utterly defeated as he observed him without moving an inch. His eyes were red rimmed, and he didn't seem to have slept for the entirety of the week.

"If you've come here to ask me one of your stupid questions then I'm not interested." He muttered darkly.

"May I take a seat?" Pritchett gestured to the only chair in the room. When House didn't answer he took a seat and watched the broken man before him.

The confident man that he saw few days before was gone, and now he saw merely the shadow of his former self. In one word he looked utterly defeated.

For a minute they sat in silence, and Pritchett observed the tiny cell. He noticed a stack of medical journals by the bedside, and a notepad that was covered with an untidy scribble in black ink. He noticed that he had also written on the white wall, but that appeared to be a collection of medical symptoms that he couldn't even pronounce. He gestured towards the wall with his finger.

"What's this for?"

He shrugged and for the first time he raised his eyes to meet his.

"My team's trying to solve a case, and they needed my help. I guess it keeps me busy."

"How did they manage to get those information to you?"

"They have their ways."

Pritchett decided to let the comment slide.

"You like your job?"

"Sure."

Silence filled the room, and Pritchett hoped that House would open up himself. He had interrogated him three times over the course of the week, and each time the doctor refused to speak first, and when he spoke he was arrogant, rude and despiteful. But Pritchett could tell that there was more to this man than he was showing. Many of his colleagues would have long given up on him, but Pritchett couldn't. His thoughts roamed to the headlines of the past week. The news of Dr. House's imprisonment had not gone unnoticed by the press, and the horrible accident his girlfriend, Dr. Cuddy, had experienced had been quickly sold to the press. Some of the papers had gone as far as blamed Dr. House about the incident, which was entirely impossible since the time of his arrest was mere minutes after the accident took place. Pritchett couldn't help but feel the man's pain.

"I'm sorry about what happened…if I would have known I…"

"Don't even bother saying you're sorry. You couldn't possibly be sorry."

He almost jumped up by the cold remark. House had straightened up; his cold façade had melted into pure rage. His blue eyes blazed, and his sunken face had gained its color. This was the first real reaction he had received from the doctor.

"You people think that you can dwell into my psych to find any weakness, well sure pal you got it. My girlfriend is severely injured and she lost our child, so don't you dare say that you're sorry. I didn't even get to call her to see whether she's alright…I…" His voice broke in the end and he turned his head to the wall.

At that moment he realized that Katherine had been right, he couldn't be objective about this. He could feel his pain all too well, because he had once felt that pain, and he still did.

"I know how you feel." He heard himself say. "My wife died in a car accident five years ago. She was pregnant with our second child."

House didn't react but he could see that he was listening.

"I know how it feels to be so helpless. How it feels like to go through every single thing you did to find a way to prevent what happened. What if I had been there? What if I had talked to her a little longer and she wouldn't have been the one to get hit by the truck. It all happens in a matter of seconds, and every time I ask myself what if? What if the driver in the other car stopped on a red light, or stepped out of his house minutes after her. You think of every possible scenario in your mind, and every single day I think about her." He could feel the sting of tears threaten to fall but he refused to le them fall. He swallowed and continued.

"I know how you feel, and I wish that things could be different. I wish that they would allow you to call her. I know that you're innocent. Not because I pity you, but because I feel it. I know it, and I'm going to do whatever I can do to help you."

He could see something shift in his eyes. He didn't dare to call it hope, but he could see some of the weight lift off his shoulders, as if he knew that he wasn't completely alone in this.

"Is there something you remember? Isn't there anyone who is against you or your girlfriend? Or is there any detail you think that could be relevant?"

He sat in silence and looked thoughtfully at the empty wall.

"Can I see the picture again, of the victim?"

Pritchett handed him the picture, and watched him observe it closely.

"I have been thinking the past days whether I've seen her somewhere before, and I'm sure that I have. I'm not talking about work. It just feels like I've seen her somewhere else, but where?" He seemed to be talking more to himself rather than to Pritchett. He sat there for a minute, and he waited patiently for him to say something else, but he just sat there and watched the picture. He started to feel a little uneasy when House suddenly looked up and shook his head.

"I can't remember." He said disappointedly.

"Well, if you do remember, then tell me immediately."

House handed him the picture absentmindedly.

"Can you tell me something about Dr. Saunders?"

"What about him?"

"Have you had any communication with him for the past weeks even months?"

House thought for a moment then his eyes lit up as he remembered.

"It must have been about…three months ago. Cuddy said something about him almost poisoning some old woman, and he was pretty upset about it, threatened to tell his uncle about it who's some big shot millionaire."

"Did he hold a grudge against Dr. Cuddy?"

"I don't think so? Why? You think he's behind this? He wouldn't have the guts."

"What about his uncle?"

"I have never even met him, but Cuddy see's him every week, he's on the hospital board."

"Did Dr. Cuddy say anything about him?"

"No, I don't remember…. Although there was this one time Cuddy said that he talked to her, she was pretty shaken, but then he didn't bother her again."

"Do you know what they talked about?"

"Something about this Dr. Saunders. He made empty threats about her losing her job if she would fire Dr. Saunders, but that was months ago."

"Do you think there was something else behind this threat? Do you think they would go far enough and do something like this?"

"I honestly don't know. I've made many enemies in my life, and some of them have been well deserved, but I don't see why anyone would go so far and accuse me of these crimes just because they are personally against me or Cuddy."

"That's what I'm going to find out."

"Every personal files about the staff of the hospital are stored in the basement of the hospital. Maybe you can find some information there. Dr. Cuddy will give you full access."

"Thank you for cooperating."

"I'm not doing it for you."

"I know."

Pritchett stood up from the hard chair, sensing that Dr. House had reached his limit.

"I'll check on Krauss, and I'll see whether I can get them to allow you to call Dr. Cuddy."

"Thank you."

Pritchett smiled and nodded his head.

"You're welcome."

He waited for the door to open, and walked out of the cell. He always disliked the small space and felt relieved when he walked out of the security area.

Absentmindedly he walked back to his office. Over the course of his career he had always trusted his gut feeling. He always tried to trust his instincts even though it had oftentimes gotten him into trouble, but in the end he knew that he had done what he thought was best.

He hoped that he was doing the right thing, and somehow he was sure of it.