Disclaimer: You know the drill, I own not the characters of House MD

Authors Note: This took a bit longer to crank out than I thought it would, but part four is finally here! I hope you guys enjoy it :-)

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," Greg replied, his fingers running down James's arm, slowly until he took the hand at the end, almost as if it were a prize. "I knew the sappy stuff would get you to come back."

He couldn't really deny the small allegation. Despite how much he had wanted to wake up, it only took three small words to bring his fighting spirit up to full force against the pulls of unconsciousness. As he looked over his lover, he noticed that he was still dressed as he had pictured he would be for their dinner, though the outfit was now wrinkled, looking old and worn.

His looks must have been notice because he watched as Greg looked down at his clothes before grinning. "Stylish no? Now just imagine what it would've looked like days ago. I was a stud."

Licking his chapped lips, James gave him a small smile, easily being able to imagine it in his mind. It had been just what he had thought before, right down to the cerulean, button down shirt that brought out his strikingly beautiful eyes. Now that his mind was clearing a bit there was so much he wanted to know, but the dryness in his throat kept him from speaking and hurt even to breathe. He glanced over at the small bedside table, knowing that Greg would easily get the hint, which he did. Seconds later he closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feeling of the cool water that slid down his throat, washing away the soreness that came from dehydration.

When he opened his eyes again he noted the worried glint in the blue ones that met his. He licked his lips once more before taking a breathe, wincing just slightly at the pain. There were so many things whirling around that he wanted to ask or say, but he couldn't choose which to start with. What hospital was he in? What happened after he passed out? How bad was he hurt? His lips parted as he hoped that this small action would bring himself to say at least something. And it did. The very first thing that came to his mind. "Sorry about dinner…" he said quietly, before letting out a very small laugh at the expression on the other's face.

"You've just lived through something that most people would have died instantly, and the only thing you can say is sorry about dinner?" he was asked incredulously, though he couldn't blame his companion. It had been an odd statement to make for his big comeback, and given who he was with just made it even worse. But he supposed it made sense in a way. Dinner had been the first thing on his mind when he had woken up in the car, and it was the first thing on his mind when he truly woke up here.

Given the reaction to his last statement, he knew that his next one should be thought over for a moment. Still, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around all that had happened. Aside from being in a hospital bed, it all seemed like a distant dream, and any moment Greg would shake him awake and chastise him for shifting so much in their bed. But somehow, despite how much he wished that were the case, he knew everything that had happened was real.

It must have been taking him a while to come up with something because he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand. "How much do you remember?" House asked softly.

"I was just…on my way home," he said quietly, letting his gaze drop. "There wasn't really anyone else on the road…which was nice. All I was really thinking about was getting home to you. I must've…I don't know, zoned out or something, because the next thing I knew there was something in the road…" He paused for a moment, letting out a small, shaky breath as images started to flood his mind. "I just didn't want to hit it…but when I swerved the car the tires just started screeching and suddenly I was heading towards the guardrail but I couldn't stop and the breaks weren't working fast enough…"

Tears stung his eyes that he assumed were turning red and seconds letter he felt the small droplets running down his cheeks. He didn't want to cry, he knew how uncomfortable it would probably make his lover but for some reason he couldn't control it. Despite the small ache he turned his head, unable to look Greg any longer, ashamed that he was letting his emotions control him so easily. He knew that most of the time he was able to keep himself in check, but now he felt himself slowly crumbling under the pressure of his experience. Everything was falling apart so fast and he didn't know what to do anymore. Often times it was he who was on the other side giving comfort to those who had been struck down by tragedy and he had no idea how to deal with the switch, and he had a feeling that House didn't either.

For this reason he was surprised when he felt his lover's calloused fingers against his cheek, slowly urging him to turn back and he soon found himself lost in a pair of stunning blue eyes that looked at him with nothing but love. "It's alright," the voice comforted. "You're safe now…I can't say the same about your car…but hey, maybe I'll let you in the 'vette again."

He gave a small smile, sniffling quietly as the tears were swept away by long, thin fingers. No one had ever acted as kind and comforting towards him as House was at this moment, and he had to admit that part of him was surprised by the actions. And the offer of the corvette, well, that spoke for itself as he knew Greg would never let anyone touch that car, given how much it was worth. Yes…that car was worth more than anything he himself had owned, and held even more meaning. That was what suddenly made him worry.

There was no way under normal circumstances his lover would act so compassionately towards him, and even though the accident had been bad there must be something else at play. His injuries. Not once since he had opened his eyes had he asked the other how badly he was hurt. Greg had made a vague reference to his charts but had offered no other information to him and now he was suddenly nervous and scared all at once. Something must be very wrong, and even though he knew he had to ask part of his mind told him to leave it alone.

Focusing in on the blue of the other's eyes, he already knew that he had been found out, not that it surprised him much. If anyone knew House at all, they knew how perceptive he could be, especially when trying to figure out what someone was thinking. It would take a miracle to keep something hidden from him. Licking his lips, he parted them, about to speak, but found that he was at a loss for words, and instead used his eyes, begging for the answers he so desperately needed.

He watched the other sigh and close his eyes for a moment, as if formulating a master plan, figuring out everything from what he would divulge to how it would be said before he even opened his mouth to speak. "You're left arm is broken, but I'm going to assume you already figured that much out. You had a grade 3 concussion, but Foreman is confident there's no lasting damage, but he'll probably want to talk to you sometime soon. Four broken ribs…no contact sports for you for a while. Though…we might have to find a loophole around that." He smirked, and James let out a small, airy chuckle.

All the injuries that were listed he supposed made sense, but something told him that there was more, something that was being left out. He couldn't remember what it was though, just that it was important, that he had been worried about it before. But what could it be? What wasn't House telling him? Click. His legs, there hadn't been any mention of injuries below his waist, and he knew that something was wrong when he looked into his lover's eyes. "Greg…," he spoke softly, though the emotions behind that single word were stronger than anything else he could have said.

"James…," the other trailed off, averting his eyes for a moment to put something together. He watched as Greg rested his hand on his thigh, wincing at the slight pressure pushing against him. "…You're going to need a lot of rehab. And it'll take a lot of work and time but…you'll be able to walk again. We'll…we'll get you through this James…I promise."