Thank you everyone sooo much for the great reviews! I do apologize for the delay but I hope this chapter makes up for it :)

Enjoy :)

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"Come on, House, you need to eat something," Cuddy mothered, lightly drawing her hand down the length of his arm.

House turned over from his side and onto his back to look up at her. His eyes could barely open and were bloodshot. The area around them still remained red and sickly.

"Does it look like I have the ability to eat right now?" he asked, still able to talk normally, but as far as moving about was concerned, he had a difficult time because he was too weak.

Cuddy because more and more increasingly worried about House. With no rescue in sight, and no proper medicine to cure him, he was in trouble. Both of them were in trouble.

"Oh stop with the tears already. Think about me instead of wondering what to do with yourself after I die."

Cuddy's eyes went wide. "That's not what I'm thinking about, House! And you're not dying."

"Yeah, well, tell my body that. I can't even feel my toes anymore."

That alarmed Cuddy. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well what could you do? Give them an erotic massage and wake them up?"

Cuddy wanted so bad to slap the leaf she had for his forehead against his face, but controlled herself and placed it gently there instead. "Nothing wrong with your sarcasm," she muttered.

His eyes dropped to her chest. "Nothing wrong with your chest either but I'm not complaining."

"Try being on the receiving end for once," she said, referring to his sarcasm.

"Oh I'm on the receiving end all the time…and it's nice," he said, clearly thinking something else.

"Shut up," she murmured, dabbing his head with the makeshift cloth. He had an answer for everything. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time.

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"I'm sorry, Dr. Wilson, but we need to turn back. It's getting too dark to see," the pilot said, having to resort to turning on headlights to see ahead of him and down below. The islands around them were turning into dark silhouettes.

Wilson took the news like one of his closest relatives dying. "We can't turn back now! Who knows when the next time we'll be able to come out again!"

Cameron's heart sank. She knew it was a matter of time before it was time to turn around. They've been searching for twelve hours straight and saw no signs of anything, except vacant islands that didn't appear to have any life on them whatsoever, human or animal.

She rested her hand on his lower arm and instantly felt it tighten. Nonetheless, she kept it there.

"It's okay; we'll come back out tomorrow."

"I wouldn't be putting too much assurance on that, Dr. Wilson. Hurricane season is coming up. All flights to this here area are either grounded or rerouted."

Before Wilson could open his mouth and shout something he'd probably regret, Cameron spoke up for him.

"If we rerouted, can we still end up in this general area?" she asked, calmly and collectively.

Much to both their disappointments, the pilot shook his head. "As I told you, no can do. Here and a fifty mile radius from here get slammed with hurricane winds and downpours every season."

"Right, but is it going to happen tomorrow?" Cameron asked, starting to feel a little frustrated herself.

The pilot shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not, but you need clearance again if you want another flight. Generally takes a couple weeks."

Now Wilson was ready to fly off his seat. "A couple of weeks?! I just paid you people a hundred grand to come up into this airplane today and agreed to make donations to your damn company. Either we fly back up here tomorrow, or this is going to be taken into the hands of the legal system."

Threatening him like that probably isn't one of Wilson's best tactics, but being a step ahead might get him where he needed to go instead of kissing ass and dishing out money when it wasn't necessary.

Wilson knew, as well as Cameron, that they didn't have time to go through the legal system. It would take months, maybe even a year with the way the court system is these days to even make it past the gates. This is why Wilson had to choose his words carefully and stand firmly behind them.

Cameron had his back. She nodded at him and gave his forearm a gentle reassuring squeeze before taking her hand back.

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House awoke to a sound that he was almost positive that he was dreaming. A sound that rare was only heard in dreams these days. But no, it was real. An airplane was in the distance. The first one they've heard since landing on this island ten weeks ago.

"Cuddy," he said, reaching his hand out to grasp her shoulder. He was still fairly weak from his sudden illness so his mild action didn't scare her.

She awoke a second later, thinking something was wrong. Before she could speak, her eyes went wide. She heard the airplane as well. It sounded like it was off in the distance, but probably still reachable.

Cuddy wasted no time in flying out of the cave barefoot onto the beach to vainly attempt to flag the plane down, even though it was too dark to see. All that could be seen as the sound grew further and further away were the flashing lights on the tail of the plane in the distance.

Feeling helpless and thwarted, Cuddy watched the lights get smaller and smaller until they vanished completely in the night sky. She was positive it was a plane and it was there for them.

A feeling of disappointment washed over her and nagged at her heart. For a split second, she thought she was going home. Maybe by miracle, that person would know they were on this island and waiting for them.

She sank to her knees impotently, unable to find the proper strength to hold herself up, but yet, her body felt like it weighed a ton with distress. While watching her only hope to go home leave before her, her eyes grew misty. Now that it was gone, a tear slid down her cheek as light sobs fled from her lips. She was tired, hungry, sore, and getting sick every hour. Watching that plane leave her sight, she felt she had no hope left. Hope was gone, just like that.

"Where were you?" House asked groggily when Cuddy crawled back into the cave.

"Nowhere," she murmured, getting back onto the makeshift bed she hated so much already and hated even more now that right now they could be on their way home.

"You were gone for twenty minutes," he pointed out. "Was it a plane?"

They couldn't see one another, for in the time that Cuddy was gone, it grew too dark to see anything and neither of them felt like starting a fire. That's another thing Cuddy kicked herself mentally for not doing.

"Just go to sleep, House," she murmured.

"Was it?" he asked again.

"Did it sound like one? Yes, so therefore, it must've been one," she snapped unintentionally.

House hummed in thought. "So if you made an SOS out of logs like I told you to do the day we came here, we'd be going home."

He couldn't see it, but Cuddy turned her head in his direction with an angry frown. "Don't you dare blame this on me."

"Hey, I'm the cripple. I can't move logs and whatnot. And you can't yell at me now. I'm sick," he said and let out a fake cough.

"You weren't sick two months ago, House. And from what I can see, you did a good job walking up to the streambed on your own. You can move about the beach and collect branches for a rescue signal. Instead, I had to do all the work around here. I had to chase crabs, I had to get seashells for the water, I had to climb the streambed daily, and what did you do? You studied fucking plants and whined about sex the whole time!"

House usually didn't know when to stop. Even when he was ill, he was still an ass. But after hearing Cuddy's tone, his mouth snapped shut.

Silence occurred between them for a moment. That's when he heard a small sob come from Cuddy. He couldn't see her, but felt around for her hand to give it a gentle squeeze. The contact made her comfortable to let out a few more sobs.

"I'm sorry, Lisa," he said in a low voice. "I know out of all the billions of people in this world, I would not be your first choice to be stuck on an island with."

Cuddy shook her head. House felt her hair brushing back and forth against his hand.

"But just think of it this way, chances are if we heard a plane once, we'll hear it again, right?"

Cuddy shook her head again. "I don't know, House. I'm scared." She let out another short sob. "I'm so scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked, matching her low tone and shifting a few inches towards her so their heads almost rested against one another. His hand never left hers. "Of never getting rescued?"

"So many things are running through my mind right now, but…I'm mostly scared for you. House, you know just as well as I do that whatever you have isn't going to go away on its own. Whether it's from the crabs, getting lazy with boiling the fresh water from the streambed, or some other tropical disease, you know just as well as I do that you could…"

"Die?" House offered.

Cuddy didn't answer back. House reached his hand out and found the hair at the side of her head and threaded his fingers into it. Cuddy shifted her head over and rested it against his chest, crying lightly.

"I promise you that the end of Gregory House will not be some stupid tropical disease, nor will it be this island. You've been strong so far for me, Cuddy, don't give up now."

Silence fell between them. After falling asleep, neither opened their eyes until morning

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It was clearly obvious that Wilson sucked at negotiation. He figured since money was the universal language, he could toss it around like a hot potato. Because it is the universal language and everyone was out to stick their greedy fingers into the pot, they wanted more money from him to fly up the next day and at such short notice. They made up a fee for just about every little thing, including mileage on the fuel. It was because they could. Wilson didn't listen when Cameron said she could get in there and bargain properly. It got to the point where she had to shove Wilson aside and speak the way it was supposed to be spoken. In the end, they were able to go back up the next day without paying any hidden fees or anything additional. It amazed Wilson. Cameron was able to get everything to slide.

Cameron was proud of herself and wore a smile to prove it.

"That was great," Wilson said, astonished. He wasn't able to get anywhere.

"You have to let them know you mean business."

"I should've let you handle it from the start," he chuckled.

"Yeah, well, this better work. I have a feeling we won't be getting anymore freebees after this."

Swiftly, Wilson scooped Cameron up into a hug. It took her by surprise. She let out a tiny involuntary yelp.

"Thank you so much, Cameron," he said. "For coming with me, for putting up with me, and just about everything else."

Cameron chuckled. "And for saving you another hundred grand?" she said sweetly.

He nodded and took his arms back. "Yes, that too."

"Just keep your fingers crossed we'll find something."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

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Cuddy's worry about House was continuing to grow. Ever since they got up that morning, he hasn't been able to sit upright for more than a minute and his entire body fell weaker and weaker by the hour. She wanted nothing more than to be by his side, but he told her to go set up the logs and twigs on the beach just in case the plane came back again today. She did that at sunup. Now, noon was rolling in and instead of being focused on a rescue, Cuddy was focused on House. All he did for the past two hours was moan and groan and not even have the strength to open his eyes all the way. The areas around his eyes was redder than yesterday or any of the previous days. Whatever he had was greatly taking its toll and overpowering him.

This wasn't the first time that Cuddy shed tears over this, even though she pushed herself on several occasions not to. It was getting to the point where she was tired of being strong. It was getting her nowhere. House was sick with god knows what and giving up on himself. She didn't have the strength to be strong for the both of them. She's a doctor, she sees how diseases and sicknesses claim lives. She's always the one in the room, giving the loved ones comfort and a shoulder to cry on if necessary. Who's going to be her shoulder, her rock? No one. She had no one. Lisa Cuddy is a very strong-willed, determined woman, but if someone saw her now, they wouldn't believe it. They would see someone that's about ready to give it all up. If House died, a part of Cuddy would die with him and there will be nothing to pull her back from the endless state of depression she will encounter, whether she gets rescued or not.

Cuddy's tears fell down her face and mixed in with the bowl of water she used to dip the makeshift washcloth in. She dabbed his forehead to try to break the fever. It was worsening now. Cuddy feared she would have to wet him down with the seawater to cool him. He had a mild fever already, but as of last night, it got worse to the point where his mind was racing in his sleep.

"House, talk to me," she said, dabbing his face.

His eyelids flinched and his eyes opened half way. "My stomach hurts," he said, using a voice halfway in between a whisper and a groan.

Cuddy reached around for a seashell full of water. "I need you to drink something, okay?"

House nodded ever so lightly and parted his lips. Cuddy lifted his head up underneath her forearm and fed him the water. He drank it easily, sighing afterwards.

Cuddy set the seashell down and then reached back in front to grab the hand that rested on his stomach. He caught notice of her looking at him with so much sympathy that not even him laying like this in agony could take.

"Stop crying," he whispered. It was just easier for him to whisper. "I'm sick of hearing you."

"Too bad, live with it."

"It'll only kill me faster," he grumbled.

The small smile that tugged at the corner of Cuddy's mouth with House's light humor before had disappeared now. "You're not going to die and I don't want to hear that again," she said firmly.

He shook his head and it looked like he was struggling to swallow. "I feel it."

Cuddy's heart pounded so loud in her chest that her temples started pulsing. "What does that mean?" she asked worriedly.

House had to pause and draw in a breath before speaking. It was short and shaky, scaring Cuddy.

"It's…one of those things you f-feel."

Cuddy shook her head as more tears fell from her eyes. A quiet sob escaped her lips as she placed her hand over his forehead. "You aren't leaving me, you understand? This entire time, you've kept me going. In a weird, twisted sort of way, you were my rock, Gregory House. Don't you dare think you can get off easy by dying." Her voice cracked on a few points. It didn't even severely hit her yet that he could stop breathing at any second. Hell, it didn't even occur to her that he could die, period. Not House the Invincible.

When she was about to put in her second round of begging him to hold on, she heard the plane again. She froze in place and listened for it, but didn't think to much about it at first, for she figured she was just hearing things.

"My god, I can hear it, House," she said, eyes wide when the sound became louder. "I can hear the plane!"

For the first time since they arrived on that island, Cuddy's spirits were lifted so high that she could fly. She stepped out of the cave just in time to see the airplane come into view straight ahead of her. It was coming right at her, as if the driver knew they were there and coming for them.

Cuddy's sad tears were replaced with happy ones as she waved her arms above her head. She didn't even bother shielding her eyes from the intense sun. She wanted to remember this moment for as long as she lived.

Then she said three words she never thought she would ever say again—"I'm going home."

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I did promise a rescue in this chapter, but the majority of it will definitely take place in the next chapter. Thanks for reading. Please review :)