darkdreamer | Used, Chapter 37 :)

Hi, guys :)

First of all, check out my pretty new icon, made by my dear friend Tamakin :) I think this particular pic of House is one of the hottest ones I've ever seen, and now I can look at it whenever I want :D hehe

Next order of business: This update of Used :P

I don't want to spoil anyone before they read it, but things might be slightly confusing this chapter. I have to just say this: TRUST ME :)

I'm a bit uncertain about this chapter, and am very interested in what you all have to say about it :P Please leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

*hugs*
DoS

Title: Used
Beta:

zeppomarx
Rating: R
Pairing: House/Wilson friendship, House/Cuddy friendship, Wilson/OFC, and possible future House/Cuddy, not in this fic though :P
Warnings: implied and explicit non-con, violence and non-con of a flashback/memory sort, mild language, general angst and trauma and darkness
Summary: House endures the unimaginable...will his friends be able to deal with it? Will he be able to deal with it? A story about damaged human beings, and ultimately recovery and healing

Chapter 37
Independence

As Wilson got out of his car in the parking lot of the tiny, out-of-the-way diner where he had arranged to meet Jenna, he felt a sense of satisfaction and relief to see that besides Jenna’s old, red Geo Metro, there were few other cars parked outside.

Good… We should have some privacy…

When he walked inside, he saw her immediately. The dining room was small, and she was seated at a corner booth facing the door. She waved to catch his attention, apparently unaware that she already had it – in more ways than one.

As he slid into the seat across from her, Wilson gave her a nervous smile, glancing quickly over his shoulder before looking back at her and nodding his approval.

“Good choice.”

Pleased with his approval, Jenna smiled. “They wouldn’t follow us in here. It’d be too obvious.”

Wilson nodded again, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, biting his lip in a nervous gesture as he opened his mouth to speak.

When he hesitated, Jenna spoke first.

“How’s House?”

Wilson considered for a moment. “Jumpy. Scared. The usual – but in triplicate, today.”

Jenna sighed. “Understandable.”

“He’s working in the clinic today, having lunch in the cafeteria with Cuddy right now. Nice and public. Safer.” Wilson was quiet a moment, before adding in a hesitant, apologetic tone. “I’m… not sure we should do this. If he’s too scared. I mean… this whole thing hinges on him, and whether or not he can hold it together…”

“Well…” Jenna considered, a reluctant grimace on her lips, “…if he doesn’t want to do it, we shouldn’t push him. Has he said he doesn’t want to do it?”

“He’d be crazy to want to do this,” Wilson reminded her. “There are no good options here. And I think he knows that this is… probably our best shot. He’s scared, yeah… terrified, even. But if you’re asking if he’s changed his mind… if he’s gonna back out?” He shook his head. “No. He won’t. He’ll go through with it.”

Jenna nodded, and they exchanged a grim look of resignation.

“I met with those other two men – the potential victims?”

Wilson nodded expectantly.

“Make that confirmed, definite victims.”

Jenna’s eyes were troubled, tinged with horror. Wilson recognized that look. He had seen it in the mirror immediately after House had been attacked. Instinctively, he reached across the table and took her hand, offering her his comfort and understanding. She turned her hand to clasp his in return, allowing him to comfort her in a way that House had been unable to do. She swallowed hard before going on.

“The first one, Lieberman, the mental patient… I got in to see him by claiming to be family, and… I guess he doesn’t get a lot of visitors.” Jenna shrugged sadly, staring down at the table as she went on. “He couldn’t tell me much. Not surprisingly. He… didn’t make much sense at all. I asked about what happened, how he got here, and… it was mostly rambling, incoherent nonsense, but… but he was scared to talk. I mentioned Tritter’s name, and he panicked. Ended up… cowering in a corner, shaking his head, rocking back and forth…”

Wilson winced, trying hard not to think of the similarities between her description and the behavior he had seen from House in the past couple of weeks.

We won’t let it get that far… We’ll stop Tritter before he can crush House that completely…

… but what if he already has?

“I think for a little while there, he… thought I was Tritter,” Jenna continued, a haunted sound to her voice. “He kept… saying he was sorry… begging me not to hurt him… not to… to make him…” Her words trailed off, and she shook her head, drawing in a deep, shaky breath as she struggled to control her voice. “He said… ‘I didn’t tell. I never told. I hadn’t told the last time you asked me, and I still haven’t told anyone’…”

“So…” Wilson frowned thoughtfully, considering her disturbing story. “…presumably, whatever Tritter did to this guy… he did it more than once.”

Jenna nodded. “Like I said, it was hard to make sense of what he said, but… it sounded like he’d had several… encounters, with Tritter. The nurses mentioned a… a cousin, who visits him once every few months, though they wouldn’t disclose his name. I think… I think it’s Tritter, visiting him, even since he was committed.”

“That’s… disturbing.” Wilson’s frown deepened, a sick sensation building in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah.” Jenna agreed with a grim nod. “Which is why it’s a good thing that we’re doing something to stop Tritter now, before he can take things that far with House.” She squeezed Wilson’s hand gently, drawing his attention as she reassured him. “The nurses at the psychiatric center told me that Lieberman didn’t have any friends. That’s why he rarely has any visitors. It’s not like that for House. He has us… and Dr. Cuddy. He has help… support.”

Although he wasn’t really convinced, Wilson nodded.

“The second visit was a little more promising.” Jenna hurried to change the subject, which had obviously only served to increase Wilson’s fears. “Ray Amato – the one who was convicted of drug charges, but given probation.”

“The quadriplegic.”

Jenna nodded. “Apparently, Tritter’s involvement with him was a little less… hands on.” Jenna bit her lip with an apologetic shrug when Wilson winced at her unfortunate choice of words. “He was actually willing to talk with me. He said at the time of the hit-and-run, he knew Tritter was behind it, tried to get him charged, but there was no evidence to link Tritter to the accident.”

“It was no accident,” Wilson muttered.

“No, it wasn’t,” Jenna agreed. “Amato says he was able to convince a friend of his – a detective on the Princeton police force – to help him investigate. He said this detective – a Marcus Benson – said he knew Tritter had shady dealings, but he was too good, never left evidence… always got away with it. Apparently Benson tried to help Amato investigate, but it never went anywhere.”

Wilson frowned. “A police detective, friends with a drug dealer?”

“Amato claims he’s innocent,” Jenna explained. “Tritter made a routine traffic stop on him a few months before the drug charges, and apparently didn’t care for his attitude. Amato says the charges were all false.”

“Just like House.” Wilson nodded sadly. “Except House didn’t have a friend on the police force to help him get out of it with minimal damage.”

“Exactly,” Jenna confirmed. “Benson put in a good word for him, helped him get off with probation – and probably got him paralyzed in the process.”

“Wow. Amato doesn’t sound like… like Tritter’s other victims,” Wilson observed thoughtfully. “I know this Benson is his friend, but he actually went to the police about it… that’s something…”

Jenna nodded. “He talked to Benson as soon as he got out of the hospital. When I mentioned that there’d been other victims who weren’t willing to come forward, he said he did get a few threatening phone calls. A couple of times he thought someone was following him… but no one ever attacked him, nothing like that. He thinks it’s because he got Benson involved. Tritter was afraid to do anything that might get linked back to him.”

A grim, angry smile crossed Wilson’s face as he met her eyes. “Tritter was counting on the fact that House didn’t have any such influential friends.”

Jenna nodded. “But Amato says that if we can get some kind of solid evidence against Tritter, and if House is willing to come forward, he’ll testify in court about his own experiences with Tritter, to establish Tritter’s history of similar behavior. And if House wants him to, he’ll get Benson involved. That should give him a measure of protection he doesn’t already have.”

Wilson nodded slowly, excitement slowly building in his eyes as he took in her words. “This is good, Jenna,” he observed with a cautious smile. “This could be exactly what we’ve been looking for.”

Jenna returned his smile, relieved by his reaction. “I think it is.”

Wilson’s smile faded slightly as he reminded her, “We’ll have to check with House, of course. He may not be willing to take such a big, scary step.”

“He’s taking a pretty huge step already,” Jenna pointed out. “If this works, we’ll have evidence.”

Wilson nodded.

“We’ll ask him tomorrow. If that’s what he wants, then that’s what we’ll do.”

*************************

“I don’t want to do this, Wilson.”

House’s voice was shaky, uncertain, and he reached out to grasp Wilson’s arm in an uncharacteristic need for reassurance. Despite the pang of guilt and sympathy he felt, Wilson forced himself to meet his friend’s eyes in a reassuring expression.

“You’re going to be fine, House. I promise. You’re not going to be in any danger, not for a moment.”

“I know, but… I… I’m not sure…”

“House… it’s just for a couple of hours,” Wilson reminded him gently. “I have to work late. I can’t help it. I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

“I can wait here…”

“House.” Wilson’s voice softened just slightly, but was still audible to anyone who might have been within earshot. “We’ve been talking about this. Haven’t we?”

House nodded reluctantly, eyes downcast. “I know.”

“You can’t spend the rest of your life afraid to go anywhere unless someone is with you. You have to somehow get to a point where you’re all right on your own.”

“I… I don’t want to be alone,” House finally admitted, subdued, fearful.

“I know.” Wilson’s tone was kind, sympathetic, as he gently removed House’s hand from his arm. “That’s the problem.” When House voiced no further objection, Wilson continued, “The cab will be here in ten minutes. You can wait in Cuddy’s office until it gets here. Ask the driver to watch to be sure you get in all right. No one will try anything as long as they know someone’s watching. All right? You’ll be perfectly safe – I promise.”

“Please, Wilson…” House’s voice rose slightly with panic as Wilson started back inside.

“House.” Wilson’s voice was sharp, firm, as he stopped, but did not turn around. “It’s not up for discussion. I have work to do.”

****************************

“This it?” The cab driver asked as he slowed to a stop in front of House’s apartment.

House swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his palms damp as he shifted his backpack on his shoulder and opened the door of the cab.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod.

He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but then seemed to think better of it, and simply paid the man and got out without another word. The cab driver sped off into the night, and House made his way on shaking legs up the sidewalk toward his apartment. It was already dark, and he forced himself not to give in to his own fears by glancing over his shoulder as he approached the door, key already in hand.

Perfectly safe… just a little while alone… nothing will happen… perfectly safe…

Wilson’s words echoed in his mind as he entered the security code to momentarily disable the alarm.

They were still echoing when he felt a hand slide around his waist from behind, pressing him forward against the door, while another strong hand locked around his throat, pulling him back against the warm, oppressive bulk of a body with which he was sickeningly familiar.

“Nice of you not to ask the cabbie to wait,” Tritter murmured into his ear, sending a shudder through House as he struggled to control the panicked racing of his heart. “You should have listened to your good buddy Wilson on that one. Except… he’s not such a good buddy, after all, is he?” Tritter sneered. “Or you wouldn’t be in this position right now.”

Frozen with terror, not daring to resist, or even move, all House could think to do was to whisper, almost inaudibly, “Please… please, don’t…”

“Shut up.”

Tritter’s hand clenched around his neck, and House flinched, biting his lip to hold back the keening cry that rose in his throat. Tritter shifted in closer behind him, and House’s entire body tensed, but he didn’t fight, as the bigger, stronger man slid his arm backward along House’s stomach, dropping it to close gently around the hand that held the keys and guide it toward the door.

“Go ahead and unlock it,” he ordered softly. “Let’s get inside, where we can have a little privacy. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

TBC...