A/N: Only 2 more chapters after this one. But don't be sad. There's another story in the works as we speak :D Thank you for your awesome comments so far, especially the guest reviews that we can't respond to via PM. They're much appreciated :)

Song lyrics for this chapter: Halo by Beyonce

Chapter Eight

Remember those walls I built

Well, baby, they're tumbling down

And they didn't even put up a fight

They didn't even make a sound

That night Cameron brought a bottle of wine to Amber and Wilson's apartment. Amber opened the door and sneezed.

"Meds not working?" Cameron asked as she handed over the bottle.

Amber took it and placed it on the coffee table. Then she grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.

"It is but I've still got some symptoms." She sat down on the couch and put her feet up. "I've got A Walk To Remember all ready to go."

"I'll get the glasses and the corkscrew," Cameron said.

"I ordered Chinese," Amber called out.

"Perfect," Cameron told her as she returned with two wine glasses and sat down to open the wine.

Three hours later they were watching Dirty Dancing and eating when a cell phone began to ring.

Cameron got up and dug through her purse. "Not me."

Amber found hers. "Not me." She looked around and saw Wilson's sitting on the kitchen counter. She picked it up and answered it.

"Wilson isn't here, House," she said then listened. Sighing, she dropped her head. "Fine, I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

Once she hung up, she looked at Cameron. "He's drunk and needs a ride. I guess girl's night is officially over."

"I'll go." Cameron told her. "You're sick and Wilson will be home soon."

"I thought you told him you weren't going to pick him up any more?" Amber said as she looked for her purse.

Cameron sighed. "There's no reason for you to go get him. He's not your problem. I'll go. Where is he?"

"Sherry's Bar. You know where that is?"

Cameron nodded, grabbed her purse and hugged her friend. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Cameron walked into the smoky establishment and saw House up front arguing with the bartender. She shook her head and made her way over to him. The bartender looked at her as he held House's keys just out of reach.

"You know him?" he asked Cameron.

"Yes," she replied as she looked at House.

Turning his head, he squinted at her. "Hmm, I guess one blonde is as good as another."

She took the keys from the bartender, paid House's tab and then helped him stand. He leaned against her and she staggered a bit as his full weight landed on her. Putting his arm around her shoulders, she led him out. A bus was pulling up at the stop in front of the bar so House pulled away from Cameron and hauled himself up the steps, weaving down the aisle before falling into an empty seat. Cameron put his keys in her purse and got on the bus. When she sat in the empty seat across the aisle from him the bus began to move and she turned to look at House.

"Why are you so drunk?" she asked. "What's going on?"

House's head flopped around as he turned to look at her. "Everybody is happy, happy, happy. Why did you have to come back?" he asked as he squinted at her. "Everything was fine and then you showed up…" his voice trailed off and his eyes widened. It was the last thing Cameron saw.

The oncoming garbage truck's headlights were blinding as they approached the side of the bus where Cameron sat and the impact threw her out of her seat and into the aisle. People screamed as the bus turned on its side and skidded down the road. House reached for Cameron and saw her reaching for him as shards of glass and debris flew everywhere. Their hands almost connected but the bus finally screeched to a halt and everyone got thrown again.

House was in a daze when he climbed out of the bus and wandered down the street. He didn't remember how he got to the bar, just that he was there with a pretty girl attempting to give him a lap dance.

The next thing he knew, he was in the ER, sitting on a table getting stitched up by one of the doctors. Looking around, he saw people scrambling around to treat what appeared to be accident victims. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what happened.

He remembered climbing out of the bus and wandering into a strip club. Why was he on the bus? He winced when the doctor suturing his head hit a spot of his scalp that wasn't numbed up. He slowed his breathing and concentrated. Slowly, it all came back to him. Cameron arriving at the bar. Getting on the bus and her following him. Then the bright lights behind her as she looked at him. The glass imploding and throwing her toward him and then the bus rolling. He could see her hand reaching for his before the bus rolled again and she flew toward the front. He remembered the groans, screams and crying. He remembered slowly getting up and crawling toward Cameron. He remembered the post impaling her right leg. She didn't look scared or like she was in pain. No, she looked relieved when she saw him; relieved that he was alive.

The doctor finished with him and House pushed him away. He staggered through the ER shouting Cameron's name. Wilson emerged from a curtained off area in a corner in the back. House reached for him.

"Where is she?" he asked as Wilson gripped his arms.

"She's being taken care of," Wilson replied with a neutral expression. "Did you get a head CT?"

"Don't need one."

House lurched past him and ripped open the curtain. Cameron lay on a bed hooked up to tubes, IVs and machines. Her right leg was bandaged and propped up on a pillow. Her skin was pasty and her lips were white. She had numerous cuts and bruises.

Foreman appeared before him and put his hand on House's chest. "We removed the pole but there's extensive damage to her leg. We're getting her stabilized so she can go up for surgery." He looked away from House. "Her medical proxy has authorized us to amputate if necessary."

"What the fuck is Chase thinking?" he shouted as he pushed Foreman to one side. "Is he here or did he give permission over the phone to mutilate her?"

"I'm her medical proxy," Wilson said softly.

House turned to look at him in shock.

"You? She chose you?"

Wilson nodded. "She needed a new one and her parents are too far away. She asked me, House."

House turned his back on him and looked at Cameron. Without another word, he limped out of the ER.

House slumped on a bench in the hallway. The pain in his head was excruciating. Leaning back against the wall, he pressed his fists against his temples and tried not to scream.

"You need an MRI," Amber said as she sat down beside him. She leaned a metal cane against the bench. "Foreman is pushing to amputate Allison's leg but Wilson is fighting him. He won't do it unless it's the only way to save her."

House slowly put his fists on his thighs. "Why are you here?" he ground out.

"Allison is my friend. She was at the apartment when you called. It should have been me in there."

"And you'd be dead from Amantadine poisoning," House responded dully. "You need to get better at hiding your drug usage."

"Like you?"

Foreman stomped past them followed by Wilson. Wilson stopped and watched Foreman until he was gone. He turned to House and Amber.

"Cameron is stable enough for surgery," he told them.

House pushed himself up and swayed. "I want to observe. Make sure you don't let them hack her leg up."

"You could have a skull fracture," Wilson told him. "You need an MRI and then be admitted to the ICU."

"I needed you to help me!" House shouted. "Where the hell were you?"

Wilson looked at Amber who got up and walked into the ER. Once they were alone, Wilson grabbed House's arms. House stared at him shaking with rage.

"You can observe the surgery from the observation deck only if you are sitting the whole time," Wilson told him. "And I was on call or I would have picked you up." He stared hard at House. "Once this is over, you're going to tell me what the hell is wrong with you." He released House. "Now, come on. She should be in OR 2 by now."

Wilson walked beside House to the observation lounge above OR 2. House leaned heavily on the cane and panted loudly. Once they made it up to the stairs, Wilson forced House into a chair he pulled up to the glass overlooking the operating room. Reaching out, House pushed the intercom button.

"Did you get someone from plastics to close?" he asked harshly.

Wilson pulled his hand away. "Yes," he said softly "Wilkins is doing the surgery but Akins from Plastics is there, too."

The door opened and Wilson looked over to see Amber enter followed by Kutner and Dobson. Silence descended as they all watched.

Four hours later, Wilkins informed them Cameron's leg would heal without any problems and she'd stopped all the internal bleeding.

House stood and started to make his way to the door when he collapsed.

The bus is empty. House sits in the back and stares at the empty seats. Suddenly music starts to play, the beat causing the seat beneath him to shake slightly. A pole appears in the middle of the aisle and Cuddy sidles up to it. Her hair falls around her in wild curls. Her blue eyes seem to glow as she smiles at him. She is wearing a business suit and six inch pumps. Slowly, she reaches up and grasps the pole. She undulates around it, shedding her suit as she does. Once she is down to a sheer black lace bra and matching thong, she reaches for him. As her fingers brush his cheek, she morphs into Cameron. The pole is gone and she smiles at him. She is enveloped in a white cape, the hood edged in fur and lace. Her hand is warm as she trails her fingers along his cheekbone.

"House?" she whispers. "Is that what you really want? Or do you want this?"

She sheds the cape to reveal a long white wedding dress.

House gasped and opened his eyes. He was in the ICU. Turning his head carefully to the left, he saw Cameron in the bed next to him. He turned to the right and saw Wilson asleep in a chair. Next to him was another patient. He reached out and poked Wilson. With a sharp intake of air, Wilson awoke and rubbed his eyes. He looked at House and got up.

"You have a skull fracture," Wilson told him as he checked House's vitals. "Cameron is sleeping. She woke up earlier and asked about you. I told her you were fine."

"You lied."

Wilson looked down at him. "There was no reason to upset her. So, yeah, I lied. But you will be fine if you don't do anything stupid." He looked away for a moment and then back down at House. "Why have you been getting drunk so much lately?"

"I'm tired," House told him and closed his eyes. He heard Wilson sigh and sit back down. He shifted in the bed to get more comfortable. The dream bothered him. He didn't want to marry Cameron. He didn't want Cameron. Did he? Maybe that was his brain trying to tell him that Cuddy was a better choice for him. Cameron was purity and goodness. Cuddy was sex and naughtiness. Sleep consumed him before he could give it any more thought.

"What are you doing here?" House asked when he saw Cameron in the hospital cafeteria a couple months later. If he were honest, she looked pretty good for someone who'd been laid up for weeks.

"It's nice to be up and around. The leg is fine, by the way. Thanks for asking."

"My head is fine, thanks for asking," he said as he grabbed a sandwich catching her slight smile out of the corner of his eye. "So, you're back at work?"

"Yes. I'm not supposed to be on my feet too much yet but I couldn't stand staying home any longer. And I missed this place." And you, she thought.

House cocked his head to one side and studied her for a minute, making her suddenly feel vulnerable under his scrutiny.

"You were right to make Wilson your medical proxy. I would've just pulled the plug." And on that note, he turned and walked away.

Cameron sighed. "No, you wouldn't have," she whispered and then headed for her office. As she settled at her desk to do some paperwork, her leg cramped up. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her leg out but the pain intensified. Gripping the arms of her chair, she tried to relax but the pain became unbearable. Fighting back tears, she picked up the phone and called the PT lab. Within minutes, a PT arrived and began working on Cameron's leg. House stood in the doorway and watched as Cameron's face contorted in pain. He knew all too well the pain she was experiencing. He dealt with it every single day. The only difference was he was the cause of her pain. He got drunk and led her onto that bus. She ended up with a pole through her leg because of him. Once again, he was the cause of her pain. He turned and limped away.