A/N: Still with us? Okay good. This is part 2 of our trilogy and a little shorter than the last. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: As always, we don't own the characters of House and Cameron. They belong to FOX and David Shore. So don't sue us.

Chapter One

The ambulance pulled up to the ER. Wilson and Rohella waited as House was unloaded and wheeled inside. While Rohella went in with House, Wilson stayed back and waited for Cameron. A few minutes later, she ran toward him wearing House's t-shirt. Feet bare, her tangled blonde hair floating around her, her face red and blotchy from crying, she stopped short in front of Wilson, and then tried to run into the ER. Grasping her shoulders, he looked at her.

"They said he OD'd on morphine," Wilson said grimly his tone accusing. "Where were you?"

"I was in the bedroom and he didn't OD. He used the wrong syringe."

"Why does he have more than one size syringe?"

"I don't know!"

She pulled free of his grasp but he snagged the back of her shirt before she could go in.

"You can't go in like that," he told her as he struggled to hold her. "You're the Dean of Medicine, for God's sake!"

"I need to be with him," she ground out as she tried to pull away.

"What you need is to go home and put some clothes on."

Cameron's face contorted in rage. "I'm not Cuddy. I don't care about what people think. I only care about House."

"Well, I care about you keeping your job," he told her. "You're the best thing to happen to this hospital and House. So, let me take you home so you can change and then we'll come right back."

Cameron looked wistfully at the double doors leading into the ER.

"Ro is with him," he told her. "She'll call us."

Cameron nodded and allowed him to take her home.

They returned about thirty minutes later. Cameron wore jeans, a white t-shirt and sneakers. Her clean face showed only hint of pinkness and her hair was pulled up in a haphazard ponytail. Ro met them at the nurse's station. Cameron noticed she wore a body hugging royal blue dress that showed off an impressive amount of cleavage and her long legs. Her makeup played up her blue-grey eyes and her the tips of her hair were tinted the same blue of her dress. She also wore black wedges that winked and gleamed in the lights of the ER.

"They're giving him Narcan. Everything will be okay," she told them. She looked at Cameron. "What happened?"

"A lot," Cameron replied bleakly. "He didn't OD. I could see he used the wrong syringe. He had two sizes." She looked away. "He was upset and in pain. It was just an accident."

"I still have to put him on a seventy-two hour hold," Ro told her.

"He'll never let you do that," Wilson said.

"He doesn't have a choice. He's come in as an attempted suicide. He's going upstairs in about twenty minutes. Once he's settled, I'll let you know so you can see him."

Ro turned and walked away.

Cameron leaned her elbows on the counter and put her head in her hands. "This is all my fault. I pushed him."

"How?" Wilson asked.

Cameron stood up and walked away. Slowly, Wilson followed her. He would get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

Awareness returned slowly. House heard the soft sounds of monitors and felt cool air flowing into his nose from a nasal cannula. He opened his eyes and became aware that he was in the hospital.

"Shit," he cursed softly.

"Welcome back," Ro said from the chair beside his bed. "You're on a sevent-"

"I didn't try to commit suicide," he interrupted as he stared up at the ceiling. "My leg hurt and I picked up the wrong syringe. That's it."

"Why do you have more than one size syringe? Did you stock up on the bigger ones so you can end it all when it gets to be too much?"

"Jesus, you're annoying!" House groaned ignoring her questions. "Don't you have other patients who actually need you?"

"Always."

House closed his eyes and willed her to go away.

"But you're the one who needs my help right now. Also, you interrupted my very romantic date with Brent. So, you owe me. Why'd you mistake syringes?"

"I just grabbed one," he muttered. There was no way in hell he would tell her what happened in his bedroom with Cameron. He didn't care if it did happen to other men. It never happened to him.

"You never just do anything. You are the most deliberate man I know."

"I'm tired. A good Narcan dose always makes me sleepy."

"Fine," she said. "I'll be back later."

Once she left, he opened his eyes and looked down at the IV port in his hand. He turned his head when the door opened and Cameron entered.

"I made a mistake," he told her softly. "I didn't OD or try to kill myself."

She stood beside his bed and looked at him. "I know. You grabbed the wrong syringe."

"Would you please tell Cruella that?" he pleaded. "I don't need to be on a psych hold."

"I told her. She said she has to. It's three days, House. You were at Mayfield longer than that."

"You're her boss. Override her. And no that isn't a euphemism." He looked at her with fear in his eyes. "I can't detox here. I won't."

Cameron bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. Silently she removed his IV and nasal cannula then she unhooked him from all the machines. He sat up and she helped him stand. Together they went to the door and looked out. The hallway was empty so she grabbed a wheelchair that sat outside the room. Once House was in it, she wheeled him toward the freight elevators.

Rohella and Wilson stepped out from behind one of the columns at the nurse's station.

"Told you she'd break him out," Ro said with a grin.

Wilson shook his head. "You really think she'll get him off the Vicodin and any other narcotic he has squirreled away in his apartment?"

"She will and he'll let her. And we'll let them."

"And if he dies?"

Rohella patted his shoulder. "She loves him. She won't let that happen. Now, I got a husband at home waiting on me, so I'm outta here."

Wilson watched her walk away. He hoped she was right.

Cameron and House arrived in Florida later that day. She left a message with the Board of Directors that she had a family emergency. They were used to House coming and going as he pleased so his absence would be overlooked. The board members put Wilson in charge until she returned. That made them a bit nervous. Wilson continually tried to make House conform and they worried he would try to find them.

"I need a Vicodin," House told her as they drove away from the airport in Tampa.

"I'm sorry. I didn't bring any. There's some extra strength ibuprofen in my purse," she told him as she merged onto I-275 North. The mid morning traffic was heavy and Cameron was shocked at the way people drove; weaving in and out of traffic; tailgating; even driving on the shoulder at high speeds.

"These drivers are crazy," she muttered as she kept her eye on a semi that kept drifting into their lane.

House grunted and stared out the window as he rubbed his right thigh trying to ease the white-hot pain. Trees and billboards stretched along the highway broken up by small towns.

"How far is it to this magical island you visited as a child?" he finally asked about an hour later.

"Oh, only about thirty minutes now," Cameron told him as she exited FL-52 W. "Are you hungry? We can stop and get something to eat."

"Bellamy Brothers Boulevard," House snorted. "Are we going to let our love flow?"

"They're from Florida," Cameron smiled.

"I know that," House replied slumping down in his seat. "What can we get to eat out here in the boonies? Squirrel soup? Fried opossum? Steer of deer? Rack of raccoon?"

"Well, you can get gator tail," she told him with a grin that showed the slight dimples in her cheeks. "It's an acquired taste though most people say it tastes like chicken."

"All food is an acquired taste. We tend to like the food our parents fed us or food with the highest amount of fat and sugar."

"Well, then we can get something with lots of fat and sugar," she told him. "We're almost there. I called ahead while you were packing and had the caretaker order groceries. I can make us something for lunch or we can go out."

"I want to start detoxing so we'll eat in."

Cameron glanced at him and then turned her attention back to the road.