Summary: A deadly and sadistic killer is on the loose and he's collecting Doctors. He has his deadly sights set on House, Wilson, Cameron, Foreman and Chase; he wants to add them all to his collection. Please read and review!

Authors note: I hope everyone had a great New Year! Thanks for all the reads and reviews, I really appreciate them. I love reading them all :)

Rating for chapter is still M.

Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of its characters (wishes she owned Dr House)

"Stop here," said House looking out of the window of the police car he was riding in.

"I'm best getting you straight home Dr House. Detective Bowman said that he's sending more of his people over to your house to keep an eye on the place. He wants you to have as much security as possible," replied Hamilton who was driving the car.

House had no intention of stopping here. He had intended to go straight home and drown his sorrows with his good old friend, Gin. But when he spotted the quaint little chapel which housed a huge weeping willow tree at the side of it, he'd told Hamilton to stop the car. He'd seen the chapel quite a few times on his way home and just looked at it the same way he would a liquor store or a bakers. It was nothing special to him, just the same as any other building. But tonight he wanted to go in there. Not to pray or to beg God to watch over his friends and keep them safe because he was not a religious man. He didn't believe in God, nor did he believe that if he went in there now, it would help the others. But religious or not, there was no denying that chapels and churches had an incredible feeling of peacefulness when you were inside of them, and that's all that House wanted right now, he wanted a little bit of peace from this situation that kept worsening like a terrible thunderstorm.

House stepped out of the car and hunched up his shoulders, trying to keep out some of the chilly night air. Hamilton was at his side only seconds later.

"Dr House I really need to get you home."

"I'll only be in here for ten minutes. Surely you can give me that?" exclaimed House, his breath coming out in white clouds of smoke. He limped up to the chapel's large wooden doors and found that the name of the chapel was St. Marys. He pushed open one of the doors and immediately felt the warm glow emitting from the many candles that were lit inside the building. He stepped inside, noticing that Hamilton was following him.

"I'd like to be alone if you don't mind. You can wait just outside the doors, I won't be long."

Hamilton gave House an unsure look.

"I'm not going to graffiti the walls or piss in the holy water, I promise," said House.

Hamilton gave a sigh, "Okay, but no longer than ten minutes." He stepped aside and radioed the men who were on the way to House's place, telling them that that he and House would be there soon.

House stepped inside the chapel closing the door behind him and shutting out the cold, frosty air. He looked around and saw that he was the only person in the building; nobody else vacated the benches that faced the small altar at the head of the chapel which could probably seat around thirty people. There were several small windows around the room that glowed a faint orange from the light cast by the streetlamps outside. Along with the main doors behind House that he had just come through, there was another small wooden door to the left of the altar at the back of the chapel. House guessed it probably led outside. There were a lot of lit candles around the room, radiating a warm heat and giving the room a soft golden glow.

House took a seat on one of the benches on the left side of the room. He sat two benches from the front, propping his cane up next to him. He leant forward, resting his elbows on the back of the bench in front of him and put his face in his hands. His hands were freezing and his stubble felt rough on his palms. He closed his eyes and saw Wilsons face, making him squeeze his eyes shut tighter. He knew that unless this bastard was caught, he would see nothing but Wilson and the others faces every time he closed his eyes for the rest of his life.

"I'm so sorry Jimmy," House found himself muttering into his hands. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Are you alright sir?" said a voice that made House almost jump out of his skin. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even hear anyone come in, let alone sit down next to him.

"It's just that you seemed like you were in some sort of distress, I thought you might have been crying. I was just seeing if you were okay," said the man who was sitting to the right of House. He was very soft spoken, his voice was almost calming. He had brown hair that was combed back with what House thought looked like a lot of gel. He wore silver, wire framed glasses and had hard, grey eyes. He wasn't good looking, his nose seemed too big and his lips too thin, but he certainly had a striking face.

"I'm fine," said House, looking at the man warily. He wasn't really partial to having in depth conversations with total strangers.

As if reading House's thoughts, the man said with a light-hearted tone, "Don't worry, I'm not just some stranger who has wandered in off the street. I work here. I help Father Joseph with the maintaining of the chapel seeing as he's getting a bit too old to do it all by himself. I was just taking out the garbage and came back to see if everything was okay. I may not be a priest but being around Father Joseph has taught me to lend an ear to a soul in distress."

"I'm fine, honestly," replied House.

"If you'd rather be alone to pray then I'll-"

"I wasn't praying. I'm an Atheist."

"Then why are you here?" asked the stranger with a puzzled look on his face.

"I just wanted some peace and quiet for a few minutes and... a few people who were close to me believed in God." House was horrified when he realised he was talking in the past tense. As if they were already dead.

"They were taken from you?"

House's eyes were troubled and his face was weary, "Something like that."

House looked at the man sitting next to him. His head was turned toward the front of the chapel in the direction of the altar and he was holding something small in his hands. House looked closer and noticed it was a toy soldier. House was confused for a moment and then looked at the man's face again. Then it clicked and his mind whirled back to before all of this happened, the day before in fact. He replayed the event over in his head furiously and when he came to his conclusion, he lost all sense of time and went back to that fateful day in his mind.

He remembered being more miserable than usual because he had been in the clinic all day and they hadn't had a case for weeks. He'd seen countless patients that day, a baby with a chest infection, an old woman who couldn't stop hiccupping and... a man who'd swallowed a toy soldier. He even remembered the conversation he'd had with him; he could remember it as clear as day. He just didn't remember it earlier because it didn't seem significant, but it did now. He remembered the man saying, "I don't even know how I swallowed it. I'm really disappointed too because collecting model soldiers is a hobby of mine and I'd been looking for this one for a long time. I collect a lot of stuff."

I collect a lot of stuff. Maybe he was reaching here but House began to connect the dots and it seemed to fit. It was likely that whoever was taking his friends was keeping them alive seeing as the police hadn't found one single body. So, what kind of psychopath kidnaps people only to keep them alive and preserve them? And why take four people of the same profession? Yes, they were all House's friends but House didn't think that the bastard was doing it to get at House seeing as he had only met him for five minutes and House had managed not to upset or offend him in that space of time.

So this guy was a collector. House thought it was strange that a fully grown man could swallow a toy soldier. That was something he'd expect off a toddler. The son of a bitch had swallowed it on purpose, so he could come in and see House before his sick little game began.

House was jolted back to the present when he could feel the bastards gaze burning into him. Without even turning to face him, without taking his eyes off the altar, House whispered, barely audible, "Where are they?"

The collector smiled thinly, his eyes darkened and he simply said, "Would you like to find out?"

He held up a needle and House didn't even put up a fight. He knew the police wouldn't get anything out of him and there was no point in fighting because this guy was going to take House regardless. House was almost broken; his energy was so low seeing as he had hardly eaten anything the past few days and more than anything he just wanted to know. He wanted to know if they were okay. He was in no condition to fight and if he was really honest with himself, he didn't want to.

House felt the sharp prick of the needle bury itself in his neck. As the sedative kicked in he began to feel groggy and his vision began to blur. He wondered if Hamilton was going to come in as it had been almost ten minutes. He wondered if the collector was going to get caught in the act. He wondered if he would see the others again. He wondered if he would live through this.