Disclaimed.

Sorry for the wait! I just started the second semester at school and I have hours and hours of homework with these new classes. Updates may be slow but I'll try to keep them at least once a week or so. If it takes me a little longer you'll have to forgive me. Anywho this will be a kind of dramatic chapter. Be glad I didn't make the last chapter a cliffy. I thought about doing it. But that would have been too mean. Enjoy!!

A/N: Some cursing and mention of attempted suicide. If you're sensitive...eye patches. (Stephen Lynch/Old School reference for those of you who live under a rock.) It is also required of you all to review this chapter. As angsty as it is, I believe it may be the best yet.

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BANG BANG BANG!

Wilson started awake on the couch, sitting up quickly.

BANG BANG BANG!!

He looked towards the door and saw the handle begin to twist. Shit...did I lock it? The door flew open. Guess not...damn it. In strode a very angry looking John House. Wilson's stomach dropped to the soles of his feet as he jumped off the couch. This was not good.

"What do you want John? Have you been drinking?" Wilson raised his hands in a nonthreatening manner, hoping to placate the irate man before House awoke. House...Cameron! Double shit!

"Get out of my way James...he's my son and I'm going to deal with this the right way. Don't try to stop me." John shoved the smaller man aside and back onto the couch, twisting his ankle. He stomped his way to his son's bedroom door. Raising a heavy fist, he brought it down hard on the door three times.

BANG BANG BANG!!!

"He can't walk John! Don't you think you've done enough!? Leave him alone!" John froze as Wilson spoke. Turning slowly, he looked Wilson dead in the eye, grasped the door knob and walked into House's bedroom. Cameron was sitting up in bed staring at John with fright, clutching the blankets to her chest. House propped himself up on his elbows. He looked surprisingly calm as he stared his father in the face.

"Dad."

"Bastard...don't call me that. You fucking mistake! It's all your fault! Every fucking thing, it's your damn fault! Your mother, my wife of over 50 years, is LEAVING ME! And it's because of YOU!"

House's mouth dropped open in shock. This...this he had not expected.

"You've successfully ruined my life Greg! And you're too caught up fucking some whore to give a damn!" John pointed a tense, shaking finger at Cameron. This kick started House into action.

"Cameron is NOT a whore and we haven't had sex! There was no where else for her to sleep. And since I have to have someone help me do every little damn thing because of you, she had to come over today. You don't deserve to have her name in your mouth! And I've ruined YOUR life?! Let's think about the position you've put me in for once! I haven't done a damn thing to you except be born and god damn it if that was such a problem you should have just tossed me back! I'm sorry for not stopping something I had no damn control over!" House screamed back, sitting up all the way with one leg off the bed. John's voice became eerily quiet, though the rage could still be heard.

"You have more control than you think Gregory. Hell, you almost had it once didn't you. Years ago when I found you in your room, wrists bloodied like a wuss. Just a little deeper and my whole life would have been better. You just couldn't quite make it, even then. You took forever to bleed. If your mother hadn't gone in when she did you would have been nothing but a memory. Just a bad after taste in my mouth at this point. You're such a failure you even fucked up trying to quit."

No one spoke. Wilson had limped to the doorway and after John's revelation had placed one hand on his hip, the other on the back of his head, looking at the ground. This was something he hadn't known about his friend. Cameron had a few silent tears rolling down her cheeks, both hands clasped like a prayer over her mouth. She couldn't look at House. He didn't want her to. House stared at his father. For the first time in years a burning lump formed in his throat thanks to something his father said. His eyes began to sting and he bit his lip. John spoke again. Much quieter this time.

"I'm not going to hit you now. I'm not going to yell or scream or cuss anymore. As of this moment you are dead to me. I never had a son, and I've never met you before in my life. Now that there is nothing for me at my...at your mother's house I'm leaving. Don't try to find me, not that you would want to. You are a bastard child and I have never had a son." With that, John turned, and walked out of House's home, and life, forever. As the door closed behind his back, House let out a great sigh and cleared his throat, shaking the sour lump back down to his heart to be properly disposed of later. Wilson slipped quietly into the kitchen, returning moments later with that bottle of scotch House had wanted since the hospital. He held it out to his friend, but House didn't notice. He was staring at the closed door, as if any moment, John would spring back through for another round of cheap shots and painful below the belt jabs. When Wilson tapped him on the bare shoulder with the cold bottle, House finally tore his eyes away from the door. Glancing sideways at Cameron, he saw she wasn't crying, but staring at the door just as he had been. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned and looked at him. He turned away and took a swig of scotch before handing it back to Wilson, who took a swig as well. The only noises in the room, were that of the ticking clock and the swish of liquid against glass when someone turned up the bottle to drink.

For almost an hour they were all silent, each one of them lost in their own thoughts. Wilson moved from chair, to floor, to bed, back to the chair. Cameron did the same. House just laid on his back, looking at the ceiling. The scotch ran out and so Wilson grabbed some beers. Those too were soon gone. Finally someone spoke. To everyone's surprise, including his own, it was House.

"I can't believe my mom finally got a pair and left the bastard." Wilson and Cameron looked at him, but remained silent. His voice a notch lower and a bit heavier, he continued. "You know...I had always thought I'd imagined him. Hallucinated he had come into my room that day. It turns out he had actually left me there to bleed to death. He really does want me to die. He hates me that much." Wilson's mouth opened but House continued. "Shut up Wilson. Before you try to tell me it's not, it is true. I know it is. I just didn't know HOW true until now..." Cameron placed a hand tentatively on his arm. When he didn't move, she slid her arm farther around until she was behind him and House was laying with his head against her chest. One of her hands laid across his chest, the other found its way into his hair. He didn't seem to notice the contact. Once more the three were left in silence, but the tense tranquility didn't last long. The phone rang. All three jumped a bit, and looked at the phone. Warily, Wilson picked it up.

"Oh come on Wilson, it's not gonna bite you!" House snapped. Wilson glanced at the caller I.D.

"It's your mom." House frowned, then motioned for the phone. Wilson tossed it to him. Pressing talk, House held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?...Yeah Mom, he came by...No he didn't, are you ok?...Yeah he told me. How did he take it when you told him?...Well that's good. You sound tired. What time is it there?...Why don't you call up Aunt Joy and have her stay the night...You sure you'll be ok by yourself?...If you say so. Get some sleep Mom...I love you too." House hung up and looked at the phone for a minute.

"Well? What did she say? Are you going to tell her what he said to you?" Wilson's rapid fire questions darted out of his mouth and spurred House out of his thoughts. He started to rummage in a drawer in his bedside table.

"She told me she left him, and called to make sure I was ok." Pulling a small book out of the drawer he flipped through some pages and then began to dial a number off the page.

"Why didn't you tell her?" This time it was Cameron. She sounded soft and worried. A sad tone etched its way in, weaving through the other emotions that were heavy on her voice.

"She doesn't need to know. I'm sure she already guessed it anyway." House muttered bitterly and stared blankly ahead until the person on the other end of the phone picked up.

"Hello...Aunt Joy it's your favorite nephew Greg...Yes I know it's late and I'm sorry. But look, Mom finally left him...Yeah I know, it is great news. But the thing is, she's alone in that big house and I'm a bit worried. Could you head over and stay the night, at least for tonight?...I don't know, I think he may have...I can't get up there, and I have no way to find him now, but if he did could you call me?...Thanks Joy. Looks like hopefully this will be the last time...We can only hope. Thanks again...Bye Joy...Love you too." House hung up the phone and dropped it to the floor with a sigh.

"Blythe...Joy...with all these happy names in your family, how can you all be so sad?" Cameron asked.

"It's a front. To make people THINK we were one big happy family. And they are as long as all their prescriptions get filled on time. Plus if you're pissed it's hard to shout BLYTHE MERRY SMITHSON and stay angry. They were going to name me Giddy McProzac but they decided it was a bit too much." House said with good natured sarcasm. A yawn escaped his lips.

"Maybe we should all try to go back to sleep." Wilson observed. House and Cameron nodded and in a few minutes they were all back in bed with the lights out. House held Cameron close, her back against his chest, the scent of her hair in his nose. She took his hand. When they were almost asleep she whispered to House.

"Thanks for sticking up for me to him." The corner of House's mouth twitched.

"Thanks for pretending you weren't holding me after he basically kicked me while I was down."

They both smiled and she snuggled closer. Soon all three were asleep. The feeling of an ended chapter and a fresh page hung in the air and they all felt oddly settled. Sleep came easy and hit hard that night.

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Fade-in, Fade-out baby.