Sean: Maybe if you would READ the author's notes then you would KNOW! AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE FIERCE DEITY'S MASK IS AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY I SPELLED IT WRONG AND HOW YOU WOULD EVEN KNOW YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE IT ANYMORE BUT I DO I GOT IT ALL BY MYSELF WITHOUT HACKING THE GAME LIKE YOU AND YOUR LITTLE FREAKY THREE EYEBALL EO CHILDREN DID SO THERE!
*self-satisfied smirk*
Also, did you know betokened is a word? I had no idea. I still don't know what it means…
Sara: Um.. was that really your boyfriend? If so... HELL YES HE NEEDS TO KICK A.W.'S ASS, BUT TELL HIM TO BE CAREFUL, BECAUSE HE GETS IN KNIFE FIGHTS. *laughs hysterically*
Sorry it took me so long to update. I'm STILL practicing for that audition, which is STILL continuously being postponed, Sean made me fight him in a video game, even though he lost miserably, and SOMEONE wouldn't do their part in the crack-fic ending (SARA!) Oh, yeah, and before I forget- I knew SVU is based in Manhattan, while House is based in New Jersey. Well, lets just say SVU is the NEW JERSEY Special Victims Unit instead of the MANHATTEN Special Victims Unit. It makes more sense that way.
Chapter 11
Warning: from here on out, this story will contain themes of self-harming and alcoholism- specifically, the sections about Thirteen. May trigger. These scenes will be set off as '13 13 13' instead of 'HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE' as a warning.
Cameron helped Chase into his apartment, paying more attention to her destination- the bedroom- rather than the front room. If she had, she would have known why Chase froze and stared in shock.
As it was, when Chase stopped moving, she said, "Look, Chase, I know you're trying to put off talking about this Eric thing, and I-"
"Cameron," he interrupted urgently, squeezing her hand tightly. "Look." Confused, the young woman raised her eyes to look at their living room...
"Oh my god," she breathed, staring around in horror.
The entire room had been ransacked, things thrown on the floor and some of the furniture broken in half. Among the smashed items was scattered letter after letter after letter. A closer inspection revealed that these were the one and the same with the threatening, stalker type letters Chase had already received.
"Oh... oh my god," Cameron whispered, walking forward among the wreckage as if in shock. "What... what happened in here?"
Chase bent to examine one of the letters, this one abandoned the LED shards of his TV. He read the last stanza, feeling more horrified by the second:
The Day of Judgment is approaching
Someday soon, killers of children,
Killed themselves
Burned in the fiery sulfur pits of hell
Someday soon, killers of children,
Killed themselves
Someday soon
Soon
Chase slowly set the letter back down and took another step forward, almost tripping over a manila envelope. What the... he thought in confusion. That wasn't here before... more letters? He hesitantly reached down and picked it up- hmm... it seemed heavier than just a couple of letters...
Chase ripped open the envelope...
"Cameron!" he screamed, dropping the ticking package to the ground and grabbing her by the arm. "Come on, hurry!" He pulled her from the doctor from his apartment, but when she resisted, he had no choice but to pick her up and sling her over his shoulder as he dashed down the stairs, trying to get as far away from his apartment as possible. He had only made it to the end of the hallway when the explosive detonated in his apartment. It must have been a small bomb, so as not to bring down the entire building, but the force was enough to throw Chase to the floor as Cameron catapulted over his head.
Chase groaned, already struggling to reach her as he pulled himself forward, unable to catch his breath. The sounds of the blast had brought people out of their apartments to investigate, and when they saw the smoke and flames emerging from the ruined wreckage of his apartment.
HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE
"What the hell happened?" Foreman demanded while he stitched up Cameron's hand, Chase himself sitting on the bed right behind Cameron.
"I don't know! All I remember is Chase grabbing me and carrying me out of the apartment before something blew up and then we were both on the ground! Chase, you wanna explain what's going on here?" she snapped, turning to glare furiously at her boyfriend.
"Eric..." he said, almost in a daze, then raised his gaze to Cameron as he looked at her in complete shock. "It must have been Eric... Cameron, the poems, I read one of the poems! oh my god..."
Cameron stared at him, horrified, then gasped, "Foreman, the moment you finish this, call Thirteen and tell her to come in tomorrow. House probably still won't be in and Chase, you and I are going down to that precinct and telling the police about this now. Then they can find this joker, take him back to trial, and get him out of our lives for good." Chase opened his mouth, and Cameron, assuming it was to protest, said fiercely, "No buts, Chase! He nearly killed both of us! I'm not going to let you risk both your life and my own with this, Robert!"
Chase smiled slightly, then squeezed her hand as he told her, "What I was going to say was yes, I agree with you about this whole Eric mess, and I'll go with you to the precinct as soon as we're done here, okay?"
Cameron nodded, then leaned her head against his shoulder tiredly. "Good."
Chase wrapped an arm around her, then told Foreman, "Hey, you're almost done with her hand. Let me finish that, you go ahead and call Thirteen."
HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE
Chase walked into the precinct uncertainly, holding onto Cameron's good hand as he looked around hesitantly. One of the cops at the desk- a tall, thin, wiry man- glanced up at them over his glasses and said, "Hello, I'm Detective Munch. Are you here to report a rape?"
"Oh, no- no, no," Cameron said quickly, shaking her head. "No, this is about a case you had a couple months ago... um, Eric Mitchel? The serial rapist?"
Immediately one of the other detectives- this one, a younger, more buff man than the first- got quickly to his feet and hurried over to them. "Eric Mitchel? What do you know about him?"
"Wait a minute..." Chase said hesitantly, then asked, "Hold up, aren't you Detective Stabler? And the woman, you're Detective Benson?"
A younger, tan woman got to her feet as well and walked over to them curiously. "Yeah, we are. How do you know that, though?"
Cameron sighed dispassionately, then said unhappily, "You two were the detectives who came by our work and said that, because we were going to testify against him, we were in danger."
Stabler blinked, then nodded. "Oh, yeah. We are. So, what do you know about Eric Mitchel?"
Chase stopped Cameron from exploding into a fiery rage with a raised hand and said quickly, "Well, I'm the doctor that was going to testify against him, and over the past several days, I've been getting alot of, um... stalker-type letters. Then, tonight, when I got home, it looked like my place had been broken into, and there were more letters. I'm sorry, I don't have any of those because whoever put the letters there also left a bomb that destroyed all the evidence and nearly killed us both."
Benson and Stabler exchanged worried glances, then Stabler said, "I'll call the captain. Liv, can you get their statements for me?"
Benson nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course." As the man walked away, she beckoned Chase and Cameron over to her desk. "Okay, before we get started, I'm warning you, we're gong to have to put you in protective custody until the trial's over."
"Wait, protective custody- what does that mean, exactly?" Cameron asked worriedly, tightening her grip on Chase's hand in anxiety.
"It means," the woman said, "that we'll move you to a safe house and keep you under guard, 24/7. I'm sorry, I know it doesn't sound exactly appealing, but, considering the circumstances..."
13 13 13
"Oh... oh, I... I understand. Of course," Thirteen said sadly as Foreman told her- in rather vague terms- what had happened. "Of course, I'll be there tomorrow. Goodbye." Thirteen hung up, hesitated, then smiled slightly. Maybe going back to work wouldn't be such a bad idea. After all, before, when she was working, she was distracted. Therefore, she wasn't thinking about it, which meant it didn't hurt nearly as much. With a sigh, she trudged back to her kitchen, and was a about to set about the impossible task of finding a knife she hadn't already used on herself when her phone started ringing again.
Groaning and loudly and muttering a stream of words under her breath that were most certainly not taught in kindergarten, Thirteen stomped back over to her phone and picked it up, growling, "What?" into the phone.
"Oh, I'm sorry... am I interrupting something?" A cool female voice asked over the phone.
With a sigh, Thirteen shook her head, went back to continue her search for the knife, and said, "No, no, I'm sorry, I just... its been a long day. Um, who is this?"
"I'm Casey's secretary, returning your call about the new evidence?"
Thirteen blinked, then exclaimed, "Oh, oh, yes, I know what you're talking about! Oh... yeah... that's great," she said, now unenthusiastic. "So, um, what did she say?"
"She says you need to come by her office tomorrow at 5 pm to discuss the next course of action with her. Is that okay?"
With a sigh, Thirteen was about to simply decline the invitation and spare herself the pain, but then her eyes fell on clean knife. She closed her eyes, then took it took her wrist, slicing the cold blade into her delicate skin. Almost immediately, she had a change of heart. Well... I suppose another meeting with the lawyer couldn't hurt... could it?
Smiling slightly, Thirteen told the secretary that she could make it, then let the phone fall to the floor as she continued to cut at her arm, every drop of blood that spilled out of her skin taking with it the pain of the past two months until there was none left.
HOUSE HOUSE HOUSE
"Look, I promise, if you change your mind at any time through this, I'll take you out and drive you home myself, okay? But, please, at least try to get through reporting it, okay?" House begged, squeezing Cuddy's hand gently.
Despite his girlfriend's protests, House had managed to convince her to come down to the local precinct and report the rape. The only reason she was here at all right now was because he had promised to let her leave the moment she wanted to.
With a sigh, Cuddy allowed him to lead her inside the precinct as she lowered her head and hugged herself tightly, keeping her eyes downcast and avoiding anybody else's gaze. She heard a door open and let House gently lead her inside the room, but then the words she heard next snapped her out of her fearful haze completely. An unfamiliar male voice ordered, "Look, I want ALL of you working the Eric Mitchel case until I say otherwise, all right?"
Cuddy stared at them, then gasped, "Eric Mitchel?"
The only woman in the room, someone who looked about Cuddy's age, nodded and asked, "And who are you?"
"I..." Cuddy stammered, then felt House squeeze her hand encouragingly, and used his strength to continue. "I was raped by Eric Mitchel."
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