Okay, here's my second House story, just like I promised. I know that it's really OOC, and if ya'll don't like that kind of thing, well, turn back now. The song is Cold, by Crossfade. Please don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: They ain't mine. Dang it.

This story is for onetreefan. Thanks for all the help!

The hospital room was silent as he slipped inside, save for the hiss of the oxygen tank and the occasional beeps of the heart monitor. Making his way across the floor, he sat in the chair beside the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at her pale, prone form.

Damn it, Cameron, he thought, letting a deep sigh escape his throat. He scrubbed one hand over the two day old stubble on his face, then carefully, if somewhat hesitantly, slipped his hand around her smaller one. Deep down, a small part of him hoped that she might respond to his touch, but she didn't.

"She's stable," a familiar voice spoke softly, but he didn't tear his gaze away from the woman lying helpless in the bed. Cuddy strode across the floor to stand on the other side of the bed, all signs of professionalism gone as she reached one hand out to gently smooth back Cameron's matted hair in an almost maternal gesture.

Several minutes later, Wilson walked in, followed shortly by Chase and Foreman. House watched in a strange sense of awe as the group surrounded the bed, forming a protective circle of sorts around Cameron. Wilson was the first to speak.

"We're all here for you, Allison," he said softly, and the others murmured their agreement. One by one, each person spoke gently, then took their leave, until only House and Wilson were left in the room.

"This wasn't your fault," Wilson said suddenly, shattering the fragile silence of the I.C.U. room. House just shook his head and continued to stroke Cameron's knuckles with his thumb.

Looking back at me I see that I never really got it right

I never stopped to think of you

I'm always wrapped up in things I cannot win

You are the antidote that gets me by

Something strong like a drug that gets me high

"You weren't driving that other car," Wilson stated. "You weren't the one who was drinking and driving, and you sure as hell didn't run that red light!" House still didn't speak, and Wilson could feel the anger surge through himself, though he knew it wasn't directed at his broken friend.

House could hear the fight in Wilson's voice to rein in his emotions, a battle he was quickly losing, but he refused to say anything. He knew that she was lying in that bed because of him, and no one was going to convince him otherwise, not even one of his best friends. Not when his best friend was lying close to death, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm not going to keep trying to convince you that this wasn't your fault. You'll get plenty of that when she wakes up," Wilson conceded gently, pausing a second before laying his hand on House's shoulder, squeezing it gently. Then he sighed and walked out of the room. Once he was gone, House leaned over and laid his head on the mattress beside Cameron, swallowing hard at the tears that clogged his throat.

What I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am

I never meant to be so cold, I never meant to be so cold

What I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold to you

For five days, Wilson, Cuddy, and the two remaining ducklings slipped in and out of the room, sighing when House refused the offer of a meal or even coffee. They could all see his deteriorating condition, but they all knew the only thing that would snap him out of it was their injured friend, lying in the bed and fighting for her life.

And every night, whoever was last to leave would go into the room to check on both of them, and offer House a ride to his home. But he just shook his head and continued his silent vigil over Cameron, watching anxiously for any signs that she was ready to return to them.

"You know, if you had a point to prove, you sure as hell made it," House stated one night, gently playing with her slender fingers. "You've had my complete attention for almost a week now. Don't you think it's time for you to wake up so I can go harass the other ducklings? Because if this continues, they might suspect me of playing favorites, and I just can't have that, now can I?"

Her pale face remained expressionless, the heart monitor continued to beep, and the oxygen tank continued to hiss. Scrubbing one hand over his face, he shook his head at the tears that threatened to fall. With a small sigh, he carefully brought her tiny hand up to his face, and pressed his stubbly cheek against the palm of her hand.

"I'm sorry, Allison," he whispered, relishing the feel of her first name as it rolled off of his tongue. "I'm so sorry." A tear fell from his lashes and landed on her hand, quickly followed by another.

I'm sorry about all the lies, maybe in a different light

You could see me stand on my own again

Cause now I can see

You are the antidote that got me by

Something strong like a drug that got me high

As he tried to take calming breaths with his hand over his face, he heard someone say, "You know, you are such a drama queen sometimes." That voice. Am I finally losing it? he thought, scrubbing his face with his hand.

"No, you're not losing your mind. Look at me, House," the voice pleaded, and House hesitantly raised his head and bit his lip to keep the moan from escaping his lips. Cameron was looking at him with intense stormy blue eyes, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to snatch her up in his arms… or run out of the room.

She saw the conflict in his eyes, so she made the first move and placed her hand over his hand, which was resting on the mattress near her arm. "This wasn't your fault, House," she stated hoarsely, and he turned his head to hide the tears rapidly forming in his eyes. She sighed angrily and grabbed his hand, squeezing it firmly. "Damn it, Greg!" The way she said his name nearly reduced him to nothing, and he desperately fought to keep his emotions under control. "This wasn't your fault. I was the one who wanted to leave for the night. I was the one who drove on icy roads." Her shoulders shook slightly. "It was my fault, not yours."

What I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold

What I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am

I never meant to be so cold, never meant to be so cold

I never meant to be so cold

He didn't say anything, and she sighed in exasperation, desperately fighting back the tears in her eyes. "Would you please stop being such a stubborn son of a bitch and just…" She couldn't force the words out, so she opened her arms and reached for him, ignoring the childish simplicity of the action.

He looked at her for a long moment, and she was suddenly reminded of another time when she had extended a peace offering, and he had refused it. She was just about to drop her arms when he moved forward and slid his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he dared.

They remained in the embrace for what seemed like a lifetime, until Cameron felt House's head droop down onto her shoulder. "House?" she murmured softly, and he grunted and hid his face in her neck.

"Five more minutes, Mom," he moaned, and she laughed and tugged him down onto the bed beside her. He automatically curled up beside her and returned his head to her shoulder, shifting slightly. As he sighed happily, Cameron wrapped her arms around him and couldn't help but think of all the times she had held him like that before the accident. She thought of how close she had come to never being able to hold him or touch him again, and tears slid down her cheeks. She finally had gotten him, and night had nearly destroyed both of their lives.

I never really wanted you to see

The screwed up side of me that I keep

Locked inside of me so deep

It always seems to get to me

Resting her head against his, Cameron let the tears fall from her eyes as she thought of the promise she had made him.

They laid entangled in each other's arms in the aftermath of their lovemaking, and now they were just staring into each other's eyes. "What are you thinking about, Greg?" she asked softly.

"Just about how it would kill me if I ever lost you," he admitted, kissing her forehead. She snuggled against his chest and kissed his lips tenderly.

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Not that I finally have you," she swore as she stared down into his beautiful blue eyes. He nodded and kissed her again, and she smiled as he climbed on top of her and entered her slowly.

"I'm sorry, Greg," she whispered. "I almost broke that promise. But don't worry. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere." He snored softly, and she smiled and laid her cheek on the top of his head, closing her eyes.

I never really wanted you to go

So many things you should have known

I guess for me there's just no hope

I never meant to be so cold

Wilson walked into Cameron's hospital room right after he clocked in, and the sight before him both saddened and warmed his heart. House was on the bed, curled up as close to Cameron as he could be, with his head resting on her shoulder and his arm draped over her waist. Wilson sighed softly and walked across the floor with his hand outstretched, intent on waking his friend up to force him to go home. But as he reached forward to shake House's shoulder, Cameron shot her hand out and grabbed Wilson's wrist, hissing, "Don't even think about it, Jimmy."

Wilson let out a gasp and stumbled backwards, then recovered and said, "Allison? How are you feeling?"

She let out a soft sigh and ran her free hand over her face, murmuring, "Tired and sore. How long have I been out?"

"About five days now. I should go tell Cuddy that you're awake. We need to do an examination on you-"

"Has he been here this whole time?" she interrupted, motioning to House's sleeping form. Wilson shrugged his shoulders, then nodded solemnly and said, "None of us were able to make him leave. He's been sitting in that chair beside you since you were brought in, the stubborn bastard."

A weak smile appeared on Cameron's face, and Wilson quickly examined her, careful to avoid disturbing House. "Well, everything looks good," Wilson said thoughtfully, running his hand through his hair. "I guess Cuddy was right."

"About what?" Cameron asked curiously, absently smoothing House's matted hair back with her free hand.

"She said that you would wake up when you were good and ready to, and not a moment before," he answered, and a light blush colored her cheeks as she thought of their talk earlier. He looked at House again and shook his head, then smiled at her and asked, "Do you want me to wake him up?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Jimmy, what did I tell you? Don't touch him. In fact, since I'm fine, I don't want anyone to come in here for at least eight hours. I want him to get some sleep."

He opened his mouth to object, but thought better of it. "Fine. I'll tell Cuddy and the guys that you're awake and fine, and not to let anyone in here. Do you need anything?"

"No," she said quietly, and he realized that she was falling asleep. He chuckled slightly and headed for the door, but turned and looked back at the couple again. House was still cuddled against Cameron, and she had moved her arms to wrap them around him, holding him against her battered body.

"Take care of each other," he murmured with a soft smile, then he walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly.

What I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am

I never meant to be so cold, I never meant to be so cold

What I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am

I never meant to be so cold, I never meant to be so cold

The End.

A/N: Okay, so most of ya'll don't know me. I cause cavities and diabetic comas with my stories, and they tend to be a little OOC. I had originally planned for Cameron to die, like the last one, but I changed my mind halfway through, if that explains anything. Please review, my bunnies!