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Part 2

God, why was he seeing Wilson's dead girlfriend still? Amber stared back at him with those damned, slitted eyes of hers. Her lips smirking, eyes gleaming in a way he knew so well. Shit. Pain. House rubbed his leg and tiredly sighed, he slept very little still. What little sleep he received remained filled with dreams of the past. Past patients he couldn't recall, his old team, the hospital, Wilson. He missed Wilson, despite the occasional visits; both friends would part with sad smiles, Wilson with an infinite sadness.

"Thinking about Cuddy?" Amber whispered tauntingly.

"No," he murmured, closing his eyes, trying to block Amber out and the images of Cuddy.

Images assailed him. All hallucinations. Kissing Cuddy, making love to Cuddy. None of it was real. He was loosing touch with reality. His mind. The most important thing to him. There was nothing, but his brilliance that he thrived on, the puzzles, which he solved. Now he was stuck in this fucking psyche ward with people who ran around naked and were downright nuts. Screwing his eyes shut tighter, unbidden another woman filled his mind. Cameron. Blonde hair, large blue eyes and a sweet smile.

The only person who he allowed in to visit was Wilson. Cuddy attempted to visit him once, but he sent her away. She hadn't tried again and he knew it was better that way. Maybe subconsciously he had wanted a relationship with her, big mistake because she told him bluntly they could never have a personal relationship. He hadn't realized how much words could hurt. Usually he shrugged them off, but the images, the taunting demons of his mind antagonized him. Emotion proved to be conquering his logic and mind. Mastering him.

Amber's laughter reached his ears. He couldn't stand it; it seemed to grow louder and shriller. Fuck, more pain in his leg, he massaged it quickly and Amber told him he couldn't do anything about it. Her heels clicked as she strolled over to him, sitting on his cot beside him. Giving him a sidelong glance, she smiled sickeningly sweet.

"Face it, House. No one cares, but Wilson. No one else will come to see you. Cuddy won't again because she knows you're pining after her. Your team hasn't even been here and Cameron who had a thing for you is off on her honeymoon. Everyone is happier without you and has forgotten you."

House opened his eyes and forced a shrug. "Go away. I'm not in the mood."

"You hope she'll come," Amber added with a knowing look.

"Quit mentioning her," House hissed, looking truly angry. "I don't give a damn about Cuddy."

"Oh, I don't mean Cuddy. Cameron. You want to see her because you know she'll care and attempt to fix you. She's the only one who could ever put up with you besides Wilson and see that lost little boy his daddy beat up."

Rolling his eyes, House stood up and headed for the window to look out. "That man wasn't my dad," he called over his shoulder. "You're in my mind so get the facts right."

When he looked back to continue speaking to Amber, the room was empty. Sighing, House ran a hand through his hair and stroked his stubble. Glad that for a while she would be gone. He needed some peace from her. Everything looked bleak outside; the surrounding trees were shrouded in shadow from the overcast day. The wind blew and hit the windowpanes lightly; he could feel and hear everything around him.

A knock on the door. Sighing House turned towards the door. Yelled for the person to go away. Most likely, it was that bitch of a nurse that antagonized him at every turn and acted like he was a child. He didn't know her name, but that was irrelevant. Hoping to vex her, he refused to answer the door as the pounding continued. They had a key, but that was the last resort.

"Go away!" House yelled loudly. "I'm a little busy. Attempting suicide."

A muffled voice announced, "You have a visitor, Dr. House."

"Oh joy," he muttered. "I don't want any visitors! Tell them to go to make a wish foundation or something."

At least the knocking ceased and he heard footsteps walk away. Sighing with relief, House limped back over to the window and leaned against the wall, staring vacantly out the window. A habit he became accustomed to. One moment he was staring at the clock it read 6:00, dinnertime, but he wasn't hungry. He sure wished he had his vicodin though; it was only given in doses and his leg hurt like hell.

The next time he looked at the clock it read 6:30. Time seemed to melt away. Another gentle tapping on his door barely reached his mind before he heard it creak open. Deciding not to acknowledge the intruder, he continued staring out the window. A gentle presence filled the room, was it another one of his damn hallucinations? Then there was a hand on his shoulder, a gentle touch, which made him close his eyes and open them, dreading whom it would be.

"House," the voice softly murmured.

In the back of his mind he knew the voice. Slowly turning, he faced the person. Blue eyes stared into his, a beautiful face. Never had she looked so angelic. Allison Cameron-now Chase, the woman who had hung on his every word, worked for him for three years, the naïve atheist. The strongest woman he knew. Maybe his senses were reeling because nothing made sense. He stared at her dumbly for a moment and he couldn't speak. Perhaps she was a hallucination after all she should be with Chase.

"Are you real?" he gruffly murmured, stepping back.

"Yes. House, I had to see you. When I heard you were here I had to come. I know you didn't want any visitors, but I had no idea you were here. Had Cuddy told me, I would have come here sooner."

He let out a breath. Either she was real or a hallucination his mind conjured up for some reason. Even if he touched her, he wouldn't be able to tell if she was real. Maybe it didn't matter; hell he was talking to Amber, Wilson's dead girlfriend and sometimes Kutner. What difference did another person make, but of course Cameron wasn't dead to his knowledge, just happily married to Chase now.

"Why are you here?" he dumbly asked and looked away.

When he looked back he saw a brief hurt cross her face, but it didn't last long. "To see you of course," she answered truthfully and reached out to touch his arm. "Why are you here, House?"

His sarcasm returned briefly, but even Cameron noticed the same light wasn't in his eyes. "For a picnic of course. I relate to insane people better than the sane. Now that you've seen me you can return to your husband."

Cameron lightly smiled. "I'd rather not. Sometimes his accent is annoying especially when he obsessively questions why I'm coming to see you."

"Why did you? To see if I needed you? My hallucinations and I are just fine."

She frowned and looked concerned. "Hallucinations? Who are you seeing?"

"Ah the normal. Cutthroat bitch and Kutner. No biggie."

In frustration, she gritted out, "Quit acting like everything's okay. You're not fine, House! Can you see yourself? When is the last time you shaved and changed? You're gaunt with dark circles under your eyes. House…"

"Quit being so damn caring," he murmured. "I'm fine…"

"You're evading," she accused, stepping nearer to him. "You're in denial."

Suddenly, the shadows changed. Coldness filled the room. House stopped as he saw Kutner standing across the room. Blood was running from the wound in his head. The fatal wound by a gun that had killed him. House shuddered as life left Kutner's face and he looked him straight in the eyes.

"Why didn't you save me? You should have known."

"B-but you're dead," House gasped, backing away. "I-there was nothing I could have done."

Kutner stepped forward. "That's what they want you to believe."

"House…" Cameron was staring him in the eyes, her hands on his shoulders. "Look at me. House, who's dead?"

"Kutner," House murmured thinly. "Kutner's dead."

Her face looked even more beautiful and her eyes filled with tears. He saw that she wanted to hug him, but held herself back. For a moment, House wanted to reach out and crush her to him, but resisted the urge. Still feeling shaken, he remained still in front of her and looked into those blue eyes that calmed him, that knew him. It was as if she could read his soul, and though it had disturbed and bothered him at one time, he allowed her in.

"House," she whispered, staring him deeply in the eyes. "You'll be okay."

"You're naïve," he said, not cruelly. "Of course you would say that. Cameron, if you knew the things I saw, damnit there's no peace. I see, I hear. I don't want to feel."

Cameron nodded, but her eyes never flickered from his pacing form. She stepped nearer to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop and look at her. Their eyes met and he read understanding in the depths. She wouldn't try to force him to bare his heart to her, but she would be there for him.

"I might be naïve," she strongly said. "If that's what you call hope. Hoping in the world and humankind. Not all people are bad, House and not everything is a nightmare. There is happiness and…" her eyes swept the room. "A world away from here, and the hospital. Don't worry; I'm not here to fix you or to get anything. I'm here because I care. I just wanted to come and see you. Now that I have and if you're okay, I'll go…"

He nodded. Under such pure kindness he never knew how to act. But the images of Kutner were gone, even if the guilt wasn't banished. Cameron brought light in here, a feeling that maybe things would be okay. Her eyes seemed to fill up the room; he couldn't look away as words he never thought emerged from his lips.

"I want you to come back… to see me, Cameron."

Surprise registered in her eyes then a gentle smile came to Cameron's lips. Both knew she would and a flicker of hope shun in House's eyes, which Cameron couldn't ignore. The fact was she would always say yes to House.

"Yes, I'll come back."

TBC