Title: Spare Key pt. 4/4
Author: Ritaann
Rating: M
Beta: Lynettinspaghet
Characters: House/Cameron, original character, some H/Wil/Cam friendship
Summary: It all comes to a head as Cameron meets her stalker for the first time. Will Ossel's last few months of preparation pay off, and his first meeting with her go as planed...?
Notes: see part one

Part 4

From now on, all my fanfiction can be found at whitewriter.
None of the characters below belong to me, no money is being made, this is a mere piece of fun I wrote about 2/3 yrs ago? I forget ... I'm currently admist fixing up my LJ (re organising) – but here's a link to where most of the House stuff is: whitewriter./tag/fanfiction

Feedback much appreciated.

23:21
WEDNESDAY, 10TH OF MARCH
HOUSE'S APARTMENT

"Pay up buddy," House groused extending his hand out to Wilson who sat on the couch beside him.

The credits for the super bowl were rushing across the split screen, the other half was a promotion of the latest Alias episode with actress Lena Olin the feature of the commercial. Cameron got up from her place on the lazy boy in the corner, stretching like a cat, arms above her head. House couldn't help but stare at the bare patch of skin that had been exposed when her top had ridden up, watching as she began to clear up the coffee table littered with beer bottles.

As she moved into the kitchen, House snapped out of his trance, Wilson slapping a twenty dollar bill into House's hand. "I can't believe you're passing that up." Wilson shook his head in disbelief.

"I think visiting hours are over." House growled, levering himself off the couch and picking up a few of the bottles himself. Whilst he would normally just leave them there until the next morning, or even sometimes until the coming week, having Cameron clean up made him feel a tiny bit guilty.

Wilson also got up, and grabbing his coat off the back of the couch walked into the kitchen to find Cameron stacking the plates from their meal.

"Thanks for dinner Cameron- it was delicious." Wilson commented, taking note of the apron she had recently adorned and couldn't help but wonder if it belonged to her or House.

"Are you leaving?" she asked him, putting down the dish she had been scrubbing at.

"Yeah – it's getting late, I better get going. I'll see you around."

"See you tomorrow," she called out as House opened the front door.

With a smile and wave, Wilson left, although not before whispering, "I sincerely hope that you don't screw this up, buddy," into House's ear to which he rolled his eyes and shut the door in his face.

Moving towards the kitchen where Cameron had begun to scrub at the plates, House grabbed a dish towel and began to dry the plates that she had already washed and were on the rack drying.

"Dinner was good." House began hesitantly.

"I'm glad you liked it."

The sound of water splashing sloppily against plates and metal cutlery being cleaned permeated the air space between them for the next few minuets before Cameron put down the soap filled sponge she had been using, and brushed some hair out of her eyes.

"I know you don't do well with thank you's, but I do want to-" she could hear herself begin to babble and taking a breath she tried again. "I want to thank you for letting me stay at your place."

House stared into her doe grey eyes and felt somewhere in his being crack at the hope he saw there. Rather than what he wanted to say, something that would let her know that he had actually enjoyed her being there he'd have to kill anyone who ever found out the truth he opened his mouth to reply,

"You're welcome." At her small smile he couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased that she hadn't jumped all over him like he thought she would have the moment she stepped into his doorway a bare two days ago.

"But I have to know-" at these words House could feel the boulder that had begun to dissipate in the pit of his stomach reappear and the thought that he'd be eating his last thoughts was none too distant.

"Why, after all you've said- why are you doing this?"

"I didn't know I was doing anything," House said, feigning innocence sarcastically through a wave of his cane.

"Offering me a place to stay? Taking me out to Atlantic City? And on my doorstep…" Cameron shut her mouth, knowing that she had said too much already.

"Oh please, don't put me on a pedestal." he fell back on an old line of his, and turning away from her began to stack the plates he had just dried into the cabinet where they belonged.

"Was that a mistake?"

House knew what she was referring to but he asked anyway, his back still turned, "What was?"

"The kiss- was that a mistake?" she asked again, firmly.

"I don't make mistakes." He muttered to himself before turning around to face her and instead voiced out loud. "That was…" he trailed off into silence, leaving the question unanswered he found that he couldn't look directly at her and settled for staring at the digital clock behind her instead.

"Right. That's all that I need to know. I think I'll go to bed now." Taking off her apron she hung it on a hook behind the kitchen door before making her way towards the spare room.

xXx

23:00
BARKER STREET, PRINCETON

It had taken more than a day's careful surveillance, but Ossel had finally found where Cameron was staying.

Those damn Princeton police had taken up the better part of an hour questioning him the night that Allison had fled her apartment and by then he had no choice but to go to bed and wait until he had a chance to follow her home from the one place he knew would remain a constant no matter where she slept.

Her place of work at the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

Putting down his binoculars and ducking his head as the guest that had come over from the evening left through the front door that had been held by House himself, Ossel watched as Wilson got into the silver grey Mercedes that was parked in front of his non-descript black sedan and drove away.

Once he was sure that the coast was clear, Ossel got out of his car and in the dark walked towards the fire escape that was on the side of the building. Reaching up he found the retractable stairs and gave a tug.

It wouldn't budge.

A car passed him on the street and he turned and pretended to be walking in the opposite direction for a few moments whilst it passed before running back and staring once more at the steel stair case before him that passed by what he hoped was her bedroom window, that perhaps he would have a chance to watch her as she slept that night.

Reaching up, this time with two arms, Ossel tugged harder at the ladder to cause a large screeching sound and major clanking as the barely used, and certainly never oiled ladder was pulled into place.

Standing still for a moment, Ossel tuned his every being into listening out for anyone who might have thought the ruckus he had created was suspicious.

He heard nothing.

Clambering up the ladder, he leaned against the ledge that passed by the window in question and peered through the curtains at the room that was within, a slow grin forming as he watched her enter through the doorway.

xXx

23:30
THE SPARE ROOM
221B BARKER STREET

Walking into her room, Cameron shut the door firmly behind her, and wished that she had never accepted House's proposition of a Friday night out in Atlantic City.

First, sitting on the bed, arms crossed, Cameron found that she needed to think out what she was going to do next. Pent up energy left over from a fight that never really began, she stood and began to pace the small room from window to door.

It was then that a sudden feeling of being watched came over her.

It was a feeling that she hadn't noticed until recently, her senses heightened with recent events. In past weeks, the thought of some stranger watching her, lusting after her body in their single-sided belief that they belonged together, made her feel dirty and unclean.

Looking towards the open window, Cameron noticed that with the light on that anything that was happening inside could be seen by whichever peeping Tom had decided to poke his head in. Standing up, she reached for the blinds and pulled them down to cover the entire window frame, shutting out the outside world completely.

For the first time in the last decade, Allison felt as though she was truly alone in this world.

00:37

House awoke in the dark, to find the sheets twisted around his legs, and the sound of the clock ticking in the hall. Turning over onto his good side, He thought back to the previous evening's events, a quarter of which had been spent deflecting Wilson's questions as to Cameron's situation through a clever, although unreadable concoction of facial expressions.

Despite her smile of innocence, House knew that Cameron wasn't quite as innocent about American football as she might have made out to be. The small grin and shake of her head as Wilson confidently made his bet and her coy reply of 'I don't make bets' at his invitation was all he needed to add another piece to the puzzle that was his latest houseguest.

If only she hadn't brought up events of the week past, he could declare it a perfect night. Only she had, to which House found whilst he prided himself on knowing a great deal about a lot of things, the rational for things past he did not have within the tangle of wires often referred to as his brain.

Having tried his best to go back to sleep and failing miserably, House found that the tick tock-ing had dug a hole deep in his mind and there was only one way to dissipate it. That would be to grab the stinking piece of machinery off the wall and throw it into eternity if he wanted to get another moment of peace that night.

Making his way out of the bed, House fumbled in the dark for his cane before making his way towards the living room.

As he passed by the door that lead to Cameron's room, House couldn't help but hear what sounded like muffled screams.

"Cameron," he whispered loudly, knocking on her door.

The sounds within only seemed to amplify in urgency and turning the handle, House opened the door a crack to peer in at the form that was sleeping on the bed.

Her arms were flailing in the air, her legs seemed to be moving as though she was running House limped over as fast as he could and sat down on the bed beside her.

"Cameron- it's me, House- Greg House; wake up, you're having a nightmare." He held down her arms and spoke once more, this time almost yelling in her ear.

"Cameron!"

Eyes wide with surprise at being shocked out of sleep, Cameron sat up in her bed and wiped away stray tears that had fallen from her lids whilst she dreamt.

"House?" she asked, looking around the room and then back to him in confusion.

"You had a bad dream- I could hear you screaming."

"Oh." Recognition clouded her eyes and a haunted look came over her features, providing House with a valuable clue as to what had passed through her minds eye only moments before.

"Do you remember what it was about?" he asked anyway, hoping that perhaps talking about it would prevent further nightmares from occurring.

"Not like you'd care to know." She threw in his direction as she got up out of bed to rummage around in her bag.

"Thanks for waking me up." and with that, Cameron walked towards the bathroom across the hall, closing the door firmly behind her.

Despite previously blaming the clock for his midnight wakeup call, House knew that the true cause of his unrest was rather, the being that had been sleeping down his hallway.

He may have not had the answer to her question that evening, but he was determined to not move from her bed until things between them were cleared.

xXx

00:37
BARKER STREET, PRINCETON

Sighing, Ossel gave up the possibility of seeing Allison once more that night through his peeping ledge into her bedroom. He had been staring up at the window for the past three hours, waiting for the blinds to be pulled up to no avail.

The only information he had managed to garner was that someone had turned off the light around fifteen minuets to midnight.

Turning the key in the ignition, Ossel Olin began the fifteen minute trek home through the dark and empty streets of residential Princeton.

xXx

00:42

What are you still doing here?" Cameron asked, entering her room from the hallway. Having left ten minutes prior she had hoped that House had given up and gone back to sleep by now.

House sighs, standing from where he had sat waiting for her on the bed and choosing instead the chair by the computer table.

"I don't know about you, but I can't sleep right when someone within close proximity is angry."

"I'm not angry with you," she crosses her arms defensively around her flimsy night dress, the soft satiny material which reached down to her calves almost see through in the lamp light.

"Right. You left the kitchen in a huff because a little purple dragon had gotten into your bed and you needed to chase it out before it made friends with your pillow."

Cameron stared down at House in confusion, shaking her head to rid her mind the last of the cobwebs of sleep as she sits down on the space on the bed House had vacated, leaving only his warmth on the sheets. "I'm going to ignore what you just said."

"It is the witching hour- you can't expect me to be all that clear." He snarks back, glancing pointedly at the clock on the table beside the bed.

"So." Cameron states, waiting for him to continue with what he had waited in her room for.

"So…" he pauses, gathering what he hopes to be the right words.

She stares right back at him, after all the confusion he has put her through, at first pushing her away only to wait a month to begin pulling her back towards him, she feels she can't give him any more excuses to hide behind.

"I don't make mistakes." He begins simply. She waits for him to continue, "and… I like having you around."

Cameron waits for more of an explanation to spill forth, but as she sags deeper into her bed she chastises herself from expecting more from what is essentially, an emotional wall.

"It's late, House, and we have work tomorrow," she reminded him wearily, beginning to crawl under the sheets and wonder if she feigned sleep, would he go away.

Yet with his recent words, she also doubted that any decent sleep would come her way.

He continued forth with his soliloquy, as though she hadn't just spoken, struggling against once more beginning a sentence with a pronoun as personal as I.

"Before, when you asked me…" House itched to bounce his cane on the rug in front of him, yet resisted the urge.

"If you liked me," she finished for him, sitting up straighter. She was no longer sleepy.

"Right. That." He nodded complacently, the nice albeit small part of his brain was screaming at his mouth to just come out with, yet was losing the battle with the larger, insecure bastard section of his psyche

"That answer was, of course tied directly with my words on our little work 'date', if you want to call it that, and those words… still stand."

Confusion crept once more into Cameron's expression, causing lines to appear on her forehead as she raised her eyebrows in response to his words.

"What I'm trying to say, is, that… I don't know where this-" He swallows nervously, hoping that at least the sentiment of his words was coming through, "thing between us is going, but I'm willing to see where it might take us."

At these words, a small smile crept across Cameron's face, "Took you long enough," she teased, giving him a small punch on the arm.

That night, although in separate beds, two human beings at 221B Barker Street, Princeton slept soundly till morning. For while their future was uncertain, a common goal had united them, and that was all that was needed, for the moment.

xXx

07:31
MONDAY, 22ND MARCH
MOSSEL WIGGERY
16 PLAINSVIEW ROAD, PRINCETON

Today was the day, Ossel whispered to himself, rubbing his hands in delight as he stared into his telescope, the sun rising over Allison's apartment block. A latte and Danish occasional treats from her favorite stop on her way over to work sat beside him on a plastic chair which served as a side table.

16:31

Stretching like a cat, Ossel began to scratch at his neck, antsy as to when she might show up he had not moved from where he had stood for the past nine hours. The coffee cup had been squashed into a flattened circle in his release of pent up energy, waiting for the right moment.

Today was the day, he was sure of it.

xXx

17:21
MONDAY 22ND MARCH
FIRST FLOOR CLINIC
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL

"So it's been a fortnight." Wilson began, once an advertisement break came on, breaking his fixation with the game that had been playing on the handheld television House had set up on the gurney opposite which they sat.

"What's your point?" whilst methods of deflection were upon his tongue, House had learned in recent years that on occasion it was better to just get things out in the open.

"Well… you don't plan on having Cameron stay forever do you?"

"Oh so it's Cameron you're talking about?" House still couldn't let go completely of the opportunity to slip in one snarky comment.

Wilson rolled his eyes at his older friend's antics, waiting patiently for a response to his previous question.

"The cleaners have been having trouble removing all the blood, so she has to get her walls repainted, and not to mention move all her things to storage until she finds another apartment. Even I wouldn't sleep there, ya know with all the beasties and ghosties that might be hanging around."

Wilson couldn't help but smile at House's seemingly plausible explanation and wondered how much of it was actually true.

"Right, not to mention it's a Monday and your not even scheduled to be in the clinic – It's past five, what are you of all people doing down here?"

"Cameron and Foreman are swamped by paperwork and you know how I hate that stuff. Besides, I promised Cameron a ride home,"

"Huh. That just further proves my point," Wilson said with a smug grin on his face. House turned towards him, waiting for Wilson to continue and wishing he'd just state his grand discovery and get it over with. "You can't be around that much niceness and not get any on you."

"Shh! The game's starting," House pointed out irritably, turning up the volume and ending all conversation.

xXx

17:21

Ossel was fed up with waiting. A growl rising from low in his throat, he looked once more through the telescope before turning away in frustration to pace the length of the room, pictures of her assaulting his line of sight at each turn.

"No, no, it has to be today. It's her birthday!"

Ossel never had a chance to forget his sister's birthday. Being the only girl, she always received the attention her cute bangs and charming smile deserved while Ossel, whose birthday always seemed to fall on a school day was barely recognized. On the one year his birthday was on a weekend, his sister was moving to America. She had received what could possibly be her big break and for the whole of that week, it seemed the whole family was milling around the house, wanting to celebrate her good fortune.

No one ever wanted to celebrate Ossel.

"Today," he promised himself out loud, "Today I will celebrate her birthday, in the way I want to."

Lifting up the hand set of the phone that hung on the wall, almost completely covered by more shots of Allison, these ones containing close ups at her face. In spite of the distance they were taken from, Ossel's fantastic camera made it seem as though it was only inches away from the subject.

"Diagnostic Department, please," he said clearly and calmly, his voice lowered an octave, and a barely contained grin on his face.

xXx

17:31
DIAGNOSTIC DEPARTMENT,
PRINCETON PLAINSBORO TEACHING HOSPITAL

Despite it being a Monday evening, and not a patient in sight in the diagnostic department, Cameron and Foreman are working diligently in their office.

House's avoidance of paperwork for the past year had made turning in yearly reports on the department's status a monumental task which was, of course delegated to his fellows. Whilst Cameron was traditionally the one who completed such tasks, Foreman had kindly volunteered to help out, whilst Chase claiming he had some seminar or another on god knows what to attend, was certainly nowhere near the hospital that evening.

"So what's it been like, staying at House's?" Foreman questions curiously, organizing the mountain that was before them into neat piles.

"Oh you know…" Cameron began, as though the answer should be common knowledge.

"Yeeeeahhhh…?" Foreman drawled, shaking his head slowly, eye brows raised for her to continue. She smirked at his response.

"No different. Sometimes we battle on the PS2." She offered, hoping to stem all questions on the quiet time they sometimes spent together.

At first she had kept mostly to her room, grateful that he had even invited her into his sanctuary and hoping not to disturb him much by her being there. She didn't want him to regret his decision to be nice for once. Yet it soon became blazingly obvious that he really didn't mind her company, often calling her out into the living room to read some interesting article he had just found, or to battle on a new game Wilson had gotten him. By the third day, Cameron gave up the notion of staying in her room if she was to get a moment's peace and for this she was secretly pleased. There were only so many things that she could do for entertainment whilst cooped up.

"You play Playstation?" Foreman asked, smirking at this new piece of information.

"Why does that come as a shock to everyone?" The phone had started ringing and rolling her eyes at Foreman's stereotyping, she went to pick it up.

Foreman tried to appear as though he was not listening to her conversation, but at her words, "I'll be there in twenty or so." He couldn't help but perk up at the thought of going home without feeling guilty.

She looked up apologetically as she put the phone down, "You wouldn't mind leaving this until tomorrow, would you?"

"Oh God no," Foreman chuckled, capping his pen, "It certainly won't be going anywhere."

Grabbing their jackets off the coat stand, they bid each other a good night before leaving in opposite directions, Foreman towards that of the parking garage and Cameron in search of House for a ride.

xXx

18:00
16 PLAINVIEW ROAD, PRINCETON

Cameron looked up at the windows of her apartment and gathering her bag moved to get out of the car.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come up?" House offered, turning off the ignition and turning towards her worriedly.

"House, it's just some feud between the cleaners over which detergent to use or something. It'll take five, ten minutes tops." She gave him an assuring smile before pushing the door open and climbing out of his car.

He nodded in agreement and pressing a few buttons on the stereo system that his corvette provided, he settled in for a short wait.

However even the soothing sounds of the Rolling Stones could not quell his discontentment that something was different about this particular call.

For one thing, the cleaners weren't scheduled to work this Monday if he had heard Cameron correctly the morning before, not to mention why they would be there so late in the evening.

House pondered these facts for a moment before turning off the stereo, deciding that something just didn't feel right, and he would make sure that his hunch was just what it was, a hunch.

Pushing her key into the lock, Cameron took note of the complete lack of noise coming from her apartment.

"Hello?" she called out as she stepped through the doorway, and out of habit locked the front door behind her.

At the lack of response, she took a few steps towards the kitchen and peered in before making her way to the bedroom, trying to quell her pounding heart at having to go in there for the first time since… Cameron suddenly realized that it was two weeks exactly, to the evening she had found the girl in her bed room.

Her bedroom door was closed, bits of the yellow 'do not cross tape' put there by the police still attached to the door.

"Hello?" she called out once more, wishing that she had taken House on his offer to come up with her.

She listened intently for a response, and when not one came she turned the handle and pushed the door open, her mind spinning with what state she might find the room. Despite knowing that the body and indeed, the face hanging from her fan would have been taken down to the county morgue and that the cleaners have had at least one session in her room, Cameron couldn't help but take a deep breathe before entering and remind herself of these facts.

The room had definitely taken a step towards what it had once been. The walls were tinged a pinkish red from where the blood had been and her bed sheets and curtains had been removed, disposed of as she had instructed the cleaners.

It was empty.

Taking another step into the room, Cameron noted that unlike everything else in the room, her dressing table and the items upon it had been untouched. Picking up her favorite bottle of perfume to take back with her, she suddenly realized that she was not alone.

"Hello, Allison."

Turning Cameron came to face the being that was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. His voice was sickeningly familiar, and taking in his bald head and tailored suit, she knew that he was not one of the cleaners.

"Who are you?" she asked, willing her hands not to tremble as she put the bottle back down on the dresser.

"My sister hated it when anyone touched her dressing table," he moved towards where she stood, Cameron backing towards the bed, her eyes darting towards the door as she inched towards it. Taking the bottle she had just placed down at the edge of the dresser, he moved it to its correct position, to the left of the dresser where she kept a neat little box filled with bottled scents.

Turning back towards her, he placed a gentle smile on his face and offered her his hand for a shake to find that she was no longer in the room.

Cameron had slipped out the door and found her way into her kitchen, taking out the phone in her purse, and began punching at the key pad only to realize that her batteries were dead, "Shit," she whispered to herself, one eye trained on the hallway that lead to her bedroom.

"Allison, where did you run off to?" the stranger's voice came through the walls and she knew she didn't have time to find her cordless in the living room. Opening her knife drawer, she took out the largest knife she could find.

Turning around, he had, like a snake, walked into her kitchen without having made a sound. She stuck the knife out in front of her, keeping her arm straight and true, not wanting to seem in any way, disadvantaged by her position.

Her kitchen table between them, Cameron glanced at the small space between them and the only doorway which was currently being occupied by him.

"Excuse my manners, but I'm your neighbor, Ossel Olin." He said with exaggerated patience.

Cameron struggled to remember where she may have seen or met him before, and was coming up blank no matter how familiar he seemed.

"I believe we've shared correspondence by letter over the past month?"

With those words, Cameron felt as though a piece of ice had been rubbed down her spine by an invisible entity as a chill fell over the room.

"What is it you want from me?" she rasped out, the panic evident in her voice.

"Lena, don't you get it?" he asked calmly, walking towards her.

Cameron shook her head in confusion and edged her way around the table, keeping an eye on both the doorway and making sure she was directly opposite from her stalker.

"You're the one that killed that woman didn't you?"

Ossel's facial expression changed that moment from one of contentment to that of anger.

Cameron eyed the doorway that was so near, and yet so far, too close to that of Ossel that she would not be able to make a clean getaway without major risk.

"That was no woman!"

Her eyes darted towards the door way once more

"She was an impostor, a fake," he snarled.

Cameron swallowed, watching as Ossel's face turned progressively from a pasty white to pink to a deep red tone. His hands moved forward and gripped the table between them.

At that moment a knock, wood on wood came at the door startling both Cameron and Ossel. She sighed in relief as she heard House calling out her name, but with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, then realized that she had locked the door and that he had no means of getting in.

"House! Help!" she called out, her eyes darting between that of Ossel and the door way which was still half blocked by him, the sound of House having a good go at breaking her door could be heard in the background.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Ossel snarled, "This was not how I planned it!" he screamed, grabbing her heavy oak table and as though it was mere cardboard, and turning it over.

Without the table serving as a barrier between them, Cameron felt exposed, waving the knife she held desperately towards his form.

"I will hurt you!" she rasped out, fear taking over her being and not allowing her to put full force into her words as she realized how much bigger and stronger than she he was.

Ossel laughed in her face, "Lena, this is just like old times," he pulled out the broom that had been next to her fridge and holding it out in front of him, Ossel took one swipe and making contact with the knife that she held, hit it so hard that it fell from her grasp and onto the tiled floor between them.

He grinned, watching as Allison made a last attempt dash towards the kitchen door he side stepped and blocked it with the broom. She could still hear House furiously banging at her door, and she sent up a quick prayer that he would somehow succeed before it was too late.

Retreating to the corner, Cameron grabbed the first thing off the counter she could find, a wooden chopping block.

"Getting desperate are we?"

She glanced down at the bench for anything else of use and for once, she damned her cleanliness with having everything put away neatly in the cabinets above her head. With Ossel advancing towards her she didn't have time to go searching.

Bending down quickly he picked the knife up off the floor and that was when Cameron dropped the heavy wood block down on his head as hard as she could and made a wild dash for the living room.

She had almost made it through the door way when Ossel grabbed at her leg, tripping her over.

Cameron clawed at the floor beneath her and struggled to get up to no avail as he had a strong grasp on her ankle, "Let me go!" she screamed, as she felt a knife begin to slice half way down her calf, "Owww…"

"You and I Allison," she heard him breathing heavily behind her, "We're meant to be together,"

With a final bang and the sound of wood splitting from its hinges, Cameron looked up to see House speed limp into her living room,

"Get off of her!" he yelled, jabbing Ossel in the neck with his cane. Hard.

As Ossel retreated back into the kitchen, Cameron got up off the floor in time to greet the team of police who had just arrived at the door, Officer Davis moving past both Cameron and House towards the kitchen with the instructions,

"Arrest him!" directed at Ossel.
House stood behind Cameron, resisting his urge to bash Ossel into the next century with his cane abated as he could feel her tremble despite the strength with which she held herself.

Ossel's last words to her as he was being frog marched out her front door, his arms struggling despite the cuffs which held them together were breathily and said with a ghost of a smile, "You'll see Allison, we're meant to be together- This isn't over yet!"

Alone in the living room, two police men in the kitchen to document the damage, a quiet reference to taking statements once she had a chance to calm down, House stood holding a sobbing Cameron, glad that the whole ordeal was at least for now, over.

Looking down at the floor, House noticed a small pool of blood forming near her feet "Did he cut you?" easing out of her embrace he bent down slowly, pulling up her pant leg to see the damage he gasped and quickly pressed the material to her leg to stop the bleeding.

It would leave another scar she would have to bear.

Epilogue

23:00
21 DINGO CRES. PRINCETON
RESIDENCE OF ERIC FOREMAN

Checking for stray drops of paint, Foreman sat down on the floor beside his television and turned on the late news.

"Mathew Reilly, escapee of Princeton Plainsboro Psychiatric facility where he was being held for treatment of severe schizophrenia was captured just a few hours ago in the apartment of his neighbor who he had been stalking at the time and is incidentally a doctor who works at PPTH. It is also believed that Reilly also murdered Elizabeth Bennett whom had been found dead in the same apartment two weeks ago to his capture. He is being held without bail and is due to appear in court next month."

End of Spare Key