The next day...

"Sammy? You awake? How do you feel?" Dean looked at his brother curled up in the backseat of the Impala.

Sam stretched and sat up. His headache was gone. All he felt was exhausted and fuzzy-headed. The doctor with the limp had given him some sweet painkillers for the burns on his legs. "Surprisingly good. You?" He said, getting out of the car to sit on the grass beside his brother.

"Not bad. A few bruises and stuff," Dean said. The whole left side of his face was turning interesting colours, where a demon had got in a lucky punch. "Beer?"

Sam took the beer, and they sat by a lake in the middle of nowhere and drank to the defeat of demons. Maybe this life wasn't so bad after all.


The hospital was almost destroyed. Cuddy hated seeing her baby like that. It was amazing all the damage an earthquake could do. And in New Jersey? New Jersey didn't get earthquakes. She was lucky to be alive. It was only thanks to House that she had managed to climb out that window and avoid burning to death. Where was House, anyway?

The fire chief was calling her over. She quickly finished giving instructions for what was to be done with the surviving patients from the geriatrics ward, and hurried over to him to find out the cause of the fires.


Thirteen, Chase and Foreman had been doing triage since the black smoke had soared out of the possessed and disappeared through the floor. The firemen had dragged them out of the cafeteria just before the ceiling collapsed, but all night had been spent performing emergency medical procedures on people who were carried from the building. Now, the flames were out. Usually, no-one would be allowed back in, but there were so many injured inside that the doctors had been permitted entry.

In the hospital foyer, Thirteen pulled a tourniquet tight on a young man's leg. It was not looking good for him. He was going into shock from the pain. She covered him in a blanket, administered a painkilling injection, and waved over some paramedics with a stretcher.

As she moved on, she saw Chase out of the corner of her eye. He was examining the eyes of a small girl, maybe three years old, who was crying for her mother. He took her hand and led her out the door to the nurses who were taking care of lost children. When they reached the station, the little girl wouldn't release his hand.

Maybe Chase had his good points. Good with kids, and the whole exorcism thing was surprisingly useful.


Foreman found Taub's body. It was lying protectively in front of a barely conscious young nurse, a knife wound in its chest. He took a few seconds to close Taub's eyes before taking care of the nurse.

He had always thought he didn't particularly like Taub. Now he knew he would miss him.


House surveyed the wreckage of his office. There was shattered glass and broken books everywhere. The coffee-maker was broken. All the mugs had fallen and smashed on the floor. His laptop was broken, and everything from his desk was scattered across the room. But the office wasn't burnt. And there was his ball, reliable as ever, hiding under the desk. He limped over and picked it up. Returning to the outer-office, he righted the fallen whiteboard. He took out his marker, and wrote: