Just under an hour later, House was sitting in the ICU at Kitty's side. Sitting only because he could no longer stand. He wasn't usually one for hanging out at a patient's bedside, only his leg hurt too much to stand up and he simply didn't know where else to go.

Kitty was hooked up to a dialysis machine and heart monitor. As House well knew, there was very little else that could be done now – all they could hope was that the dialysis would flush her body of the drugs and that her heart would recover from the damage that had already occurred. Her blood pressure was still worryingly low, despite the volume of fluid they were pumping into her.

He sat and watched the monitors blankly, not even stirring when the nurses made their almost constant checks.

"House."

House almost didn't hear her. Cuddy's voice was quiet and, for somewhere filled with mostly unconscious patients, the ICU was noisy.

"House," she said again, raising her voice slightly. "How is she?"

House answered automatically. "She had a seizure in the ambulance and has had two episodes of severe bradycardia that she had to be shocked out of. But none since she went on dialysis."

He heard Cuddy draw in a little shaky breath.

"There's no specific anti-toxin for this kind of drug interaction but we've given her Levophed, Methylene Blue and the cardiologist is waiting to see if she needs a pacing wire." House was quite pleased with how bored he sounded. With any luck Cuddy would simply give him one of her lectures about not caring, get angry and storm off. He couldn't have her nearby right now. No one who knew him well enough should be close to this. Just in case he gave himself away.

"House." This time Cuddy's breath was a sob. "It's my fault. I invited Denis to the fundraiser."

"What?" House turned to face Cuddy, his bored persona momentarily slipping.

"I had no idea that Catherine had a history with them. I just thought it would be a good way for you and Denis to get to know one another. So I arranged for you and Catherine and Denis and Miranda to be on the same table."

"You had no idea that Miranda was certifiable," Wilson's clear tones called across the ICU. He quickly made his way over to where they stood and put an arm around Cuddy's shoulders.

Cuddy didn't lean into him, just stood there, looking devastated.

"Miranda has been arrested and is being held for a psych evaluation," Wilson explained to House. "They have the glass that Catherine drank from which seems to have some kind of undissolved powder in the bottom of it. And there were still a couple of loose pills in Miranda's purse. Plus the fact that she confessed in front of a hundred people. It's pretty clear cut, but the police want to talk to you and they want to see the notes she sent you. She'll more than likely be committed, House," Wilson said, clearly feeling House needed mollifying.

House shrugged. He couldn't find it in himself to care and wondered why. He'd usually be white hot with rage, he thought. But then he figured, he'd never actually been in a situation like this, so perhaps it was ridiculous to think he'd be able to predict how he would feel.

"The lawyer guy, Bannister, told me he wants to talk to you too," Wilson continued. "He said he'd call tomorrow to find out how Catherine was doing. Except he called her Kitty."

"Kitty," House said, nodding. "It's her name."

He saw both Wilson and Cuddy frown at what seemed to be a nonsense, but he ignored it.

"And Steve Grosvenor is on his way. He said he would stop by . . . uh, Kitty's apartment to get some of her things." Wilson was obviously still uncertain about her name.

House wondered vaguely why Grosvenor had a key to Kitty's place when he didn't. After all, if he'd interpreted her mouthed message when he'd been up on stage at the fundraiser, she was supposedly his fiancé now. He gave a little internal sigh of resignation – he should have known life wouldn't let something as good as Kitty happen to him. Perhaps this was his fault; after all he had tempted the fates by trying to lock his happiness in place with a marriage proposal. He shook those thoughts away. "Why would he go get her stuff? We don't even know if she's going to walk out of here yet." Again House's voice was void of emotion. He could have been talking about anyone.

Cuddy gave a weak gasp at House's statement.

Wilson spoke up. "I actually think he's avoiding coming here. He seemed like he was really in shock after you left in the ambulance."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," House muttered. Maybe that's what this was, this blankness. Shock. He could still see Kitty's body jolt as they'd defibrillated her. Then as she'd seized in the ambulance. And now: pale, still, her heart struggling to pump, lying in a hospital bed she might never get out of.

"House, I had no idea. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry." Cuddy twisted her hands together.

House wanted to yell at her for being an idiot. He wanted to curse and scream and call her every name under the sun until she was a weeping, cowering mess. But he simply couldn't find the energy for it. A rational voice in the back of his mind said, it's not her fault. The voice sounded so much like Kitty, House turned around, half-expecting her to have spoken.

"It's not your fault," Wilson said in unknowing echo, patting Cuddy's arm.

"But if I hadn't invited them, if I hadn't given her the opportunity—"

"—Then she would have found another one," House interrupted, not looking at Cuddy. "The woman had it in for Kitty. If she hadn't got to her there, she would have got to her somehow else." The idea made House shudder. He could picture the bottle of Viagra Wilson had prescribed him. He hadn't had cause to use it yet, but he'd been planning to that night. It was in his pocket now, but before that it had been lying around at Kitty's place. It would have been so easy for someone to . . .

Wilson cut into House's thoughts. "Why don't you go home, Lisa? I'll stay with House tonight and you can come back early in the morning."

"Are you sure?" she said shakily, but House could detect relief in her voice. "I should get home to Rachael, but I won't leave if you need me."

"I'll stay," Wilson said, encouragingly. "I'll call if anything happens."

House tuned them out as Wilson ushered Cuddy out of the ICU. He was left alone again with Kitty, watching her cardiac output on the monitor. It still wasn't completely stable, although it was good enough not to cause any alarms to sound.

Wilson returned, dragging another chair behind him. He placed it next to House and then sat down heavily. "Some night, huh?" he said.

House snorted.

"I take it that the little hypothetical you went through with me . . . the pervert was your father, wasn't he? And the stripper was Cath . . . uh, Kitty?"

House stayed silent, knowing that it was answer in itself.

"So his family weren't particularly fond of her then."

"Clearly," House said sarcastically, waving an arm to encompass the ICU, Kitty, and the monitors she was hooked up to.

Wilson nodded slowly, a grim set to his mouth. "Miranda was getting more and more hysterical as she went on tonight, House. She was saying that Kitty stole her father away from her. That Kitty stole money from him – which is what she wrote on that note. Is that true?"

House sighed. He'd been wondering the same thing. "No. I don't know. I don't think so. From what I understand Andrew Barnes gave Kitty money for her mother's care and for her education and living expenses. I can't see how she possibly stole anything from him. Why would he leave her a bequest in his will if she had?"

"Miranda called her father 'daddy'. A little strange for a fifty-plus year-old woman, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't know." House shrugged. "She's clearly psycho. Who knows what's strange for her?"

Wilson looked at House and an odd, almost nauseated expression crossed his face. "House, you don't think Miranda and her father . . ." he trailed off, clearly hoping House would get the implication without him having to spell it out.

"Well, it would explain a few things," House agreed. "What a shit of a father."

The two men sat silently for a while.

"No wonder I'm so fucked up," House said eventually.

Wilson simply frowned.

House stood up and stretched, pacing back and forward a few steps to get his leg moving.

"It's not genetic, House," Wilson said kindly.

"I know that."

"And it's not like you have to have these people in your life. After this you can just ignore them."

House shrugged. He didn't know about that. Of course he wanted nothing more to do with the Barnes family, but he wasn't sure if life was going to be that cooperative.

The two men waited in silence for some time, Wilson dozing in the chair, House pacing backwards and forwards. The cardiologist returned to check on Kitty and pronounced himself pleased with her progress and that there was no need for a pacing wire since she'd had no further bradycardia episodes for almost two hours. House wanted to argue, but he agreed, so instead he stood in the corner and scowled, letting Wilson play the part of the concerned family member.

"House, seeing as she's stable, I'm going to head home. Do you need anything?" Wilson asked once the specialist had left.

"Nah. I'm going to go take a nap in my office."

Wilson nodded. "You look like you could use a rest. Do you need me to bring in some clothes for you?"

House looked down and realised he was still wearing his tux. He'd completely forgotten. "I've got a change of clothes in the office. I can always sleep in scrubs."

Wilson nodded. "Okay. Good night House."

House waited until Wilson was well out of sight before going over to Kitty and doing one last check of her vitals. He felt an urge to kiss her, wondering absently if it would be like sleeping beauty, one kiss and she'd awaken – all would be forgotten and they'd live happily ever after. All the ingredients were there – except for one. "You're no friggin' handsome prince," House muttered to himself. He didn't kiss her, just turned around, walked to his office and fell into a restless sleep.