Losing It, chapter 32
Oct. 8th, 2008 01:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darkdreamerTitle: Losing It
Betaed by: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
zeppomarx Yea!!!!! Welcome back, love, you were missed :) *hugs*
Summary: After Amber's death, Wilson is having trouble moving on, he cant bring himself to forgive his former friend for the part he played in her loss. All he can think about is vengeance. House is willing to do anything to earn back Wilson's friendship, and this proves to be a recipe for disaster.
Warnings: abuse, violence, dark themes, mild language, *very* dark Wilson throughout
Chapter 32
A Lapse in Judgment
Quiet clinking sounds from his kitchen drew House from sleep the next morning.
He had not drunk enough the previous night to cause a hangover, but his head still felt a little fuzzy and heavy as he raised it from the pillow, eyes squinting against the bright sunlight pouring through his bedroom window.
He lay there for a few minutes, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. Strangely, the clinking from the kitchen didn’t bother him. A quick glance at the clock told him that Cuddy would be getting ready for work, and the smell of fresh coffee was similarly reassuring.
He highly doubted that Wilson would take time out to brew a pot before carrying out his vengeance.
He sat up slowly, grimacing at the pain that accompanied the effort, as memories of the previous night came flooding back – dinner and drinks with Cuddy, followed by television on his couch with Cuddy, followed by… kissing… with Cuddy.
As he remembered the encounter, House winced at the way she had ultimately rejected his advances. His face flushed with embarrassment as he remembered practically begging her to stay, when she was clearly not interested in him – not in the same way he was interested in her, anyway.
But – she had stayed.
House felt a warm rush of gratitude as he thought of the comfortable, secure feeling of her body beside his, her arm draped around him in a gesture of protective reassurance. He looked toward the open bedroom doorway, then rose to his feet and headed out into the kitchen.
Cuddy gave him a surprised smile as she finished rinsing out the coffee cup she had used and placed it in the draining pan.
“Coffee?” she offered, taking a second cup from the cupboard and filling it without waiting for his response.
House was pleasantly surprised to see that she seemed completely comfortable with him, not nervous or awkward about the events of the night before – or if she was uncomfortable, she was hiding it well. Either way, it served to make House feel more at ease and less embarrassed about his own needy behavior.
“Please.” House nodded gratefully as she set the cup down in front of him. “Thanks.”
Ordinarily he avoided such pleasantries, but, well… Cuddy deserved them.
She touched his shoulder in a brief, uncharacteristic show of affection as she gave him his coffee, and House glanced up at her, an unspoken question in his eyes. The simple gesture made it clear that something had changed between them.
House just wasn’t quite sure what.
“I’ve got to go,” she informed him. “You can have a few days if you’d like, just to rest and recover a little…”
“Give me until noon.”
Cuddy blinked, surprised. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?” she cautiously asked him. “Because you really don’t have to. You don’t have a case right now, and…”
“Thanks for the concern,” he replied with a tolerant smirk, “but I’ll be fine, Cuddy. If I sit around this apartment, I’ll go stir crazy. I’ll be in my office in a few hours.”
“Well… all right,” Cuddy reluctantly agreed with a weary sigh. She knew better than to think she could stop him, if his mind was set on going. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, she headed toward the door. “See you later… unless you change your mind.” Her tone suggested that she was hoping he would, for his own sake.
Once Cuddy left, House finished his coffee and headed for the bathroom to take a shower. He took his time getting ready for work – in spite of his determination to be there, he was grateful for the freedom and leisure that came with not being required to do so. Once he was dressed and ready to go, he drank another cup of coffee in front of the television, waiting until the clock read ten to grab his jacket and cane and head for the door.
Startled, he jumped as he stepped through the doorway to find a large, uniformed man standing outside his door – and then remembered the guard Cuddy had hired to watch his apartment. Of course, this was a different guard from the one who had been there the night before. This man seemed fresh and alert, as if just beginning his shift for the day.
“Good morning, Dr. House,” the guard said with a friendly smile and nod.
Annoyed with himself over his fearful reaction, House didn’t acknowledge the man as he headed toward the street. After checking the door to his apartment to be sure it was locked, the guard followed him toward his car. House turned to face the man with an angry, demanding glare.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The guard shrugged apologetically. “My job, Dr. House. Dr. Cuddy instructed that I was to accompany you to the hospital and make sure you get there safely.”
House scoffed. “Good luck, since I don’t intend to let you into my car.”
The guard was unperturbed by House’s irritation, and just shrugged again, nodding toward the street. House grudgingly turned to see a dark blue sedan parked in the spot next to his.
“That’s okay,” the guard explained in a mild, patient tone. “I have my own car. I’ll just follow you in, to make sure you get there safely.”
House’s fist clenched and unclenched at his side as he fought back his frustration at Cuddy’s over-protective gesture. On a cognitive level, he knew that it was a wise measure to take, ensuring that he would be safe from any attempt Wilson might make to get to him; still, he was unaccustomed to being coddled.
“Fine,” he replied at last, unlocking his car and getting in. He winked at the guard through his lowered window as he turned on the engine before gunning it and peeling out into the street.
“Try to keep up.”
*****************************
Cuddy met him near the door of the hospital, glancing behind him with exasperation.
“Where’s the guard?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
House looked up toward the ceiling thoughtfully, pretending to consider the question. “Probably… somewhere back around Fifth and Main.” He met her eyes, humor replaced by anger in his voice as he declared, “I don’t need a babysitter, Cuddy.”
“Well then it’s a good thing I didn’t give you one,” she countered, not backing down. “What you do need is protection. Unless you’re a total idiot, you have to see that.”
“Yeah, Wilson’s going to attack me in broad daylight in the middle of the street. He’s gonna drag me out of my locked car at the first red light I stop at.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t need to be followed like some kind of child who doesn’t have the good sense to watch out for himself.”
“House, I know you don’t like it,” Cuddy sighed, relenting slightly. “But this is how it has to be for now – just until Wilson is caught.”
House didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about it – and he knew, despite his annoyance, that Cuddy was right.
The rest of the day only served to increase his annoyance, and to make him regret his stubborn insistence on going to work at all. Cuddy kept a guard posted outside his office all day. Every time he turned around, a member of the security staff was within his sight. Cuddy was determined to ensure his safety – and it was driving him out of his mind.
By the end of the day, he was ready to beat the guards over their heads with his cane – simply for existing. They hadn’t hindered his work or interrupted his differentials or even annoyed him with anything other than their presence. It was just the idea of being constantly followed, looked after as if he were a helpless child, that frustrated House.
At the end of the day, he made his way to his car, trying to hide his irritation at the presence of the armed man behind him, suppressing a sigh as the guard got into the car parked beside his. Furious and exasperated, House quickly got into his car, slamming the door hard as he started the engine and driving out of his parking spot without hesitation.
House waited until he had barely enough room to pull out before slamming his foot down on the gas and speeding out onto the road, smiling with satisfaction that the guard would have to wait for a long string of oncoming cars to pass before he could follow. His jaw set with stubborn determination, House turned down a side street, deciding to take the back way. It was faster, and would, he hoped, keep his shadow from trailing him all the way there.
Of course, the guard would arrive at his apartment within minutes of his own arrival, so there was really nothing to worry about. It was just House’s way of passing along some of his irritation. He smiled into the rearview mirror with satisfaction when, after a few minutes, he saw no sign of the guard.
A moment later, the smile froze, as House felt something cold pressed against the side of his throat, and a firm, familiar hand closed around his upper arm, holding him in place.
“Smooth, House,” Wilson sneered softly into his ear. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to tolerate the guard detail for long. Thanks for taking the back way. And thanks for never getting that interior light fixed.” House heard the smirk in his voice as it lowered to a menacing whisper. “Makes this so much easier.”
House felt the cold pressure of the gun tighter against his throat, pushing his head back slightly. His stomach lurched as Wilson added in a soft tone of exaggerated patience, “If you try anything, House… something stupid, like wrestling the gun away from me or driving toward the police station… I’ll kill you. Even if that means killing myself in the process. Because I think you know I’d rather die than go to prison.”
House’s mind raced as he turned onto his street, swallowing hard in a vain attempt to force moisture into his mouth. “Wilson,” he began cautiously, “nobody said anything about going to prison. If you want to talk, you don’t need the…”
His words fell away at the ominous click of the revolver. Wilson slid his free hand up to grip House’s hair, slowly pulling his head back against the headrest. “House…” He spoke slowly, his voice low and familiar, almost affectionate. “…I know you. And what’s more… I know your bullshit when I hear it. You don’t want to talk,” he sneered derisively. “And I don’t want you to talk. So how about you keep us both happy, and keep your mouth shut until we get to your apartment… so I don’t have to kill us both before then.”
*******************************
When House parked the car, he saw no sign of the guard he had so successfully evaded.
Too successfully.
Wilson held out his hand for the car keys, making sure he had both them and House’s cane from between the front seats, before finally moving the gun and getting out of the car. He opened House’s door, grabbing House’s arm and jerking him roughly out of the car, slamming him against it and moving in close to press the gun hard against his ribcage.
“You don’t move, you don’t speak, don’t make a sound unless I tell you to. Understood?”
House nodded, eyes closed momentarily before Wilson jerked him away from the car. The younger man maintained a firm grip on his arm as he half-supported, half-dragged him toward the apartment, the gun still pressed firmly into House’s side. Outside his door, there was no guard. House realized with a sinking heart that the man he had evaded on the highway was probably the same guard who should be setting up post outside his door for the night.
Wilson swiftly unlocked the door with the confiscated keys, shoved House roughly inside, and quickly locked the door again.
Without his cane, thrown off balance by Wilson’s harsh shove, House fell to the floor beside the couch. He gripped the armrest, struggling to pull himself to his feet, when he sensed Wilson come up close behind him, and felt the cool steel muzzle of the gun against the back of his head.
He froze, not daring to move as he felt Wilson’s steadying hand on his shoulder, pulling his body back so that the gun pushed his head downward, until his forehead rested against the arm of the couch.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Wilson was going to pull the trigger, going to kill him, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.
“Wilson,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “Wilson… don’t…”
Wilson’s voice was cold, pitiless, when he replied softly, “Why the hell not?”
House opened his mouth to respond, though he had no idea what he could say. His mind filled with a thousand images, tarnished and damaged by the current state of their relationship, but still sweet enough in his memory to bring tears to his eyes, tears that had nothing to do with the fear of pain or death. He wasn’t sure if what he was going to say would help or hurt – wasn’t really sure what he was going to say at all – but he knew that he was going to say it, regardless of Wilson’s threats.
Before House could speak, a sudden, sharp knocking on the door drew Wilson’s attention away from him momentarily. As the gun moved, House raised his head, glancing up toward the door uncertainly, then shifting off his knees and onto his legs so that he was facing the door. He looked up warily at Wilson, who was edging toward the door, gun aimed in its direction now, as an urgent, muffled voice reached their ears through the door, and the handle shook with the attempt to turn it.
“Dr. House! Dr. House, are you all right?”
TBC...
hit counter
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 08:34 pm (UTC)I liked and enjoyed the update but I still have my doubts that I will be able to read chapter 33. It's not that I don't want to do read it. No really I would love to read it but how is a dead person supposed to read something? So if you don't update quickly your cliffhanger will has done his job very well and I will die without the knowledge how it will goes on in your wonderful and great written fic. You know I'll blame you, if the cliffhanger really kills me and I really want to know how you can deal with those responsibility.
Oh thanks a lot for sharing those exciting update and for killi......arrrghhh *takealastdeepbreath*
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 09:39 pm (UTC)Ah, Wilson fails at plans. Does he really think House's apartment isn't being watched? His fear and hatred is making him stupid.
Great chapter, looking forward to the next!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 10:33 pm (UTC)Other than that, the chapter rocks. I especially enjoyed House's very IC treatment of the guard. And I also would like to take a moment to applaud the guy for his patience. You're a saint, man.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 10:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-08 11:08 pm (UTC)And I agree with madwriter223 about the guard: he is a saint with the patience of Job after House's (very IC)) treamtment of him.
Already looking to the next update!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-09 06:18 am (UTC)I really don't get how you can be like the sweetest writer on LJ, and then write: "Wilson’s voice was cold, pitiless, when he replied softly, “Why the hell not?”
I don't get it...but I love it. You're my hero, DoS. Keep doin' your thaang, haha.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-09 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-09 08:19 pm (UTC)tsk tsk!
You know, i was hoping House wouldnt have a stupid attack and do soemthign liek that with his guards.
but, I also hope that I will find 100,000,000$ under my bed, and we see how often that has happened...
no subject
Date: 2008-10-09 10:03 pm (UTC)House's actions in ditching the guard and his impatience with Cuddy are very much something he would be likely to do and to feel. Even though he KNOWS that Cuddy is right he should go along with what she wants he simply can't stop being the person who tries to push the buttons of every authority figure he comes in contact with.
Unfortunately Wilson knows this as well and took full advantage of that trait to get to House. I'm not sure right now that anyone could get through the the "old" Wilson but it very much sounds as if House is going to try. Even if the guard manages to figure out what is happening inside the apartment he will only become a casualty to Wilson's rage. Given the situation they are in right now House is the only one who can get them out but Wilson is so far gone into rage and hatred that I'm not sure he will actually hear anything at this point. I am really hoping that somehow House can get through to Wilson since I don't want to see either of them dead or hurt any more than they have been already.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 09:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-12 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-17 08:41 pm (UTC)