darkdreamer

Okay, due to the fabulous efforts of my substitute beta,

misanthropicobs , I actually have *two* updates for you today :P hehe... I hope you enjoy the new chapter of Losing It, right here... and again I'll warn those who might be opposed to it, there is slight Huddy at the end... less, even, than the other chapter that had it :P lol... so I hope you'll still read :) Anyways, thanx for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

*hugs*
DoS

Title: Losing It
Betaed by: misanthropicobs

Rating: R
Pairing: sort of House/Wilson, story is mostly focused on a twisted relationship between House and Wilson, though a non-sexual one; House/Cuddy friendship
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 35
Aftermath

The pounding on House’s front door gradually registered with him as he stared down in shock at the still form of his friend, lying there, his life’s blood pulsing out onto the floor. He slowly raised his eyes to the door, confused, just as it fell open under the battery of the police officers on the other side.

He looked back down at Wilson as the officers swarmed the room, taking in the scene. All at once, House remembered the gun which had fallen from Wilson’s hand, and his stunned gaze shifted down to it.

I shot him… I killed my best friend…

Firm, efficient hands grasped House’s shoulders, pulling him up off the floor and away from Wilson. Someone put his forgotten cane in his hand and helped him to the sofa, then tried to talk to him, asking him questions he couldn’t quite comprehend.

What happened? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?

All he could see was the stunned expression on Wilson’s face as the bullet had torn through his body. All he could hear were the voices of the officers across the room, discussing the situation as they checked the vital signs for both Wilson and the unconscious security guard.

“This one’s unresponsive, but there’s a steady pulse.”

“Gunshot wound here… he’s bleeding out pretty quickly…”

“He’s still breathing…”

“I’ve got a pulse…”

“Request two ambulances. This one’s pretty bad off. He needs a doctor…”

Doctor… he needs a…

Abruptly House snapped out of the stupor of shock that had engulfed him, shaking off the concerned hands of the officer seated beside him and struggling painfully to his feet. Despite the protests he heard behind him, House made his way determinedly toward Wilson. A tall, stocky man blocked his way, frowning.

“You need to give us room to work, sir…”

House’s voice was ragged with exhaustion and pain, but his gaze was sharp, unyielding, as he insisted, “He needs a doctor, right? I’m a doctor. It’s going to be at least ten minutes before an ambulance can get here from the nearest hospital. Let me do something. We have to get the bleeding stopped.”

The officer reluctantly stepped back to allow House to pass, warily staying close at his side as House knelt beside Wilson, tearing off his own shirt and pressing it against the gaping wound, trying to staunch the frighteningly large amount of blood flowing from it.

He didn’t let himself think about what had happened to cause the injury – not then. He had to focus on doing what he needed to do to save Wilson’s life. He shut out the dark chorus of thoughts flooding his mind, automatically going into professional mode as he checked Wilson’s pulse with his free hand. A sick wave of fear washed over him when he felt how weak it was.

No, he can’t die… This can’t happen… I can’t have killed my best friend…

When the paramedics arrived, there was a brief struggle as they tried to convince House to let them take over. His hands were clenched around the makeshift compress against Wilson’s stomach, and he looked up at them through wild, fearful eyes, shaking his head as they tried to push his hands away.

“It’s all right. We’ve got it,” a young female EMT kindly assured him. “We can take it from here, Dr. House.”

He was startled by the use of his name, and then realized that he vaguely recognized the girl. He had seen her at some point in the halls of PPTH.

Somehow, that knowledge was comforting.

Then, he felt a gentle hand on his arm, and looked up with surprise to see Cuddy kneeling beside him. He hadn’t even noticed when she arrived; he had been too busy working on Wilson. She had simply waited close by, staying out of his way, just in case she was needed – which, now, she was.

She held his gaze intently as she reached to take his hand, removing it carefully from the compress he held. His hand was immediately replaced by the hand of a ready EMT, as Cuddy gently pulled him away from Wilson, his blood-soaked hands clasped firmly in hers.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “They’ve got him. They’ll take care of him. It’s okay.”

House’s frantic gaze shifted uncertainly back toward Wilson, but Cuddy raised one hand to his cheek, shielding his eyes from the frightening scene and turning his gaze back toward her.

“House,” she assured him softly, with a slow, emphatic nod. “It’s all right.”

His mouth worked with repressed emotion as he met her eyes, swallowing hard. “It’s Wilson,” he whispered, a wealth of meaning in the two simple words.

Cuddy’s expression softened with understanding, as she replied with the same simple profundity. “I know.”

She helped him back to the sofa, accompanied by a member of the medical team who insisted on checking him over, making sure he wasn’t too badly injured. Cuddy sat beside him, holding his hands, providing emotional support and allowing the EMT to handle the brief medical examination.

House wasn’t too badly injured, after all. His face was badly bruised from the pistol whipping Wilson had dealt him, and he was a bit battered and sore from the fight, but it was nothing Cuddy couldn’t handle herself with a simple first aid kit. House refused the EMT’s suggestion that he should go with them to the hospital and get checked out.

“I’m his doctor,” Cuddy quietly informed her with a reassuring smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

Within a few minutes, Wilson and the security guard were loaded into the back of two ambulances, and rushed away to the hospital. Cuddy followed the medical team out to the street, instructing them to call her with a status report as soon as possible, before returning to House’s side. In her absence, a police officer had taken her seat on the sofa beside him, and was trying to get the story out of a rather shell-shocked, distracted House.

She sat on the coffee table across from him, reaching out a hand to rest on his knee in a silent display of support.

“Please, Dr. House, if you could just give me a minute…” The officer pressed for House’s attention, as the doctor’s vaguely bewildered eyes scanned the room, as if still trying to process everything that had happened in the last hour. “… I really just need you to tell me what happened here tonight. It won’t take long, if you’ll just give me your statement.”

“House,” Cuddy murmured, squeezing his leg gently, trying to get him to focus.

He looked at her, his gaze a little distant. He glanced between her and the police officer for a moment, before biting his lip and nodding once toward the officer, indicating his agreement.

“We’ve been looking for Dr. Wilson in connection with his first attack on you,” the officer remarked. “And I know you had a security detail accompanying you. How did Dr. Wilson get into your apartment?”

House glanced guiltily toward Cuddy, drawing in a deep breath before launching into his halting, slightly distracted explanation. “He… was waiting for me in my car. I… must have lost the guard detail… somewhere on the way home. Anyway, I… I beat him here. Wilson… made me let him into the apartment. When the guard got here, Wilson… he… made me trick him into coming inside, and… and made me inject him with a sedative. I… I only gave him part of it. When he started to come to, Wilson realized what I’d done and went to give him the rest of it. That’s when I… when I went for my gun.”

“Was it your gun that was fired, Dr. House?” The officer’s voice was quiet, serious.

House shook his head, glancing across the room at his weapon, just as another officer carefully picked it up and placed it into an evidence bag.

“No,” he replied softly. “My gun wasn’t loaded.” He looked calmly at the officer questioning him, meeting his eyes before nodding toward his closet. “Papers are in a box on the top shelf of the closet. It’s all official and documented – nice and legal.”

The officer nodded, satisfied with his explanation. “So… you got to your weapon. What happened next?”

“I knew he wasn’t going to be satisfied until I was dead. I thought – I thought maybe I could bluff my way out of it. But… he didn’t believe I’d do it. He managed to… to get the gun away from me, and… and we fought… over his gun.” House was quiet for a moment, blinking rapidly as he lowered his head, swallowing hard. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse, stricken. “It just… went off. I didn’t… didn’t know at first… whether it was… was me or him, that’d been shot…”

The officer waited a moment for him to go on, then nodded slowly when it became apparent that he was finished. “It sounds like a clear case of self defense, Dr. House. I wouldn’t worry too much. It was already a matter of public record that Dr. Wilson attacked you, and threatened your life on more than one occasion. We’ll examine the evidence, but as long as everything you’ve told me is true, I don’t think you’ll have much to worry about.”

House nodded once, looking away.

“Thank you.” Cuddy gave the officer a polite, grateful smile, reaching out to take House’s hand reassuringly in hers.

“One problem, though,” the officer continued. “Your apartment’s a crime scene, until we can finish gathering the evidence, and determine what charges are going to be issued, that sort of thing. Do you have someplace you can stay tonight?”

Thinking that he would get a hotel room, House started to nod.

“Yes, he does.”

He looked at Cuddy in surprise at the certainty in her voice, and she returned his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course he does,” she added, still addressing the officer, but with a softness and affection in her tone that House knew were intended for him.

“Good.” The officer nodded as he rose to his feet. “You’ll be safe tonight. Dr. Wilson’s officially in custody. As soon as he’s stable enough to be released from the hospital, he’ll be going to jail. In the mean time, he’ll be handcuffed to his bed at the hospital.” The officer smiled. “He won’t be doing anyone any more damage anytime soon.”

“So… I’m free to go?” House asked uncertainly, a heavy weariness in his voice as he glanced up at the officer. “That’s it?”

“We may have some other questions later, but yes. You can get some things together and go whenever you want.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Cuddy patted House’s hand gently as she rose to her feet and headed for his bedroom. She quickly filled a duffel bag with the clothes he would need for the next day, his pajamas, shoes, and a toothbrush, and brought it out to the coffee table.

“Anything else?” she asked briskly as she smiled down at him.

House could tell that she was in full-on maternal mode, trying too hard to be cheerful and positive – but he appreciated the effort. He shook his head, steadying his hand on his cane as he rose stiffly to his feet.

“Let’s just go now,” he murmured, exhaustion evident in his voice. “Please.”

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

The peaceful quiet of Cuddy’s apartment was a blessed relief after the tension and terror of the past few hours. House sat, silent and subdued, on the edge of the bed in her guest bedroom, as she rifled through her cabinets for first aid supplies. A few moments later, she returned, kneeling on the bed beside him as she poured antiseptic onto a gauze pad.

“This might sting a little,” she warned him as she placed a steadying hand on his chin, and then pressed the pad against a gash over his eye, left by Wilson’s gun.

He let out a quiet hiss, grimacing at the burn of the cool liquid, and Cuddy’s expression became sympathetic. “I know,” she murmured soothingly. “Almost done.” She repeated her actions on the other cuts on his face, before putting the antiseptic away and taking out a roll of bandages.

He gave her a small, sad smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes. “You know, you’re pretty good at this. I take it all back.”

She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “And what negative remarks have you been making behind my back – of which I was completely unaware – that you suddenly feel the need to take back?”

“You’re completely unaware of your back?” House teased in a falsely incredulous voice. “How is that even possible? With back like that…”

“House.”

He sighed, looking away a bit uncomfortably. “I was referring to remarks I made to your face, actually – or more likely to your boobs, since that’s most likely where my attention was focused at the time. Like, about you being a crappy doctor, for example. And… lacking in… motherly instinct.”

His last words trailed off awkwardly, and he bit the inside of his lip in a way that made him look very much like a nervous little boy called into the principal’s office. Cuddy tried not to show any reaction, schooling her expression into practiced indifference as she shrugged.

“I’m used to you saying the most inappropriate thing possible at the worst possible time…”

“I was wrong.”

Cuddy blinked in surprise, no longer able to conceal her reaction. She had thought of House saying those words to her, in this context, several times – had imagined the way it might come about – but never had she expected for a moment that it would actually come to pass. She was caught off guard as much by the tears that filled her eyes, as by the unexpected words. She managed to swiftly cover the tearful, choked sound of her voice with a light laugh.

“That I’m not used to,” she replied, turning as if to get up off the bed. “Can you wait just a second and let me get my video camera, and then repeat it?”

“Cuddy.”

His expressive eyes told her how difficult this was for him, and begged her to allow the moment to carry the importance he wanted for it to. He reached out a hand and caught her arm, and she froze. The mirth faded from her face, and she waited breathlessly for him to continue, her heart suddenly, inexplicably pounding with expectation.

House’s voice was barely over a whisper when he repeated softly, intently, “I… was wrong. Okay? I… I’m sorry.”

Cuddy struggled to maintain her composure, swallowing hard as she nodded slowly, then shook her head in confusion. “Okay. Um… why now?”

“Because you’ve earned it. And… you never deserved those things I said. Not for a second.”

“I’ve earned it, huh?” Cuddy echoed with a speculative smirk, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure I’ve earned it? What about your massive trust issues? How can you be sure I haven’t got some ulterior agenda, like everyone you meet apparently has, by your judgment? What makes you think I’m not just being nice so I can take advantage of you in your time of need?”

“Because you could have already taken advantage of me in my time of need – and you didn’t.”

House returned her smirk as he answered… but then, it slowly faded away, as he shifted closer to her, his hands moving to rest at her hips. Habit told her to push his hands away, to refuse his advances – but instinct refused to let her. Her breath quickened as his eyes trailed between her eyes and her mouth, then back up to meet her eyes again with a hungry gaze.

“But now,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with desire. “Now… I think I’d like you to…”

The objections Cuddy had that first night seemed far away now. She could hardly remember what they were. “We… we talked about… taking advantage of you… not being sexy…” she reminded him, breathless, struggling to find the words to rebuff him, even as her arms slid around his waist. “We already discussed…”

“Cuddy?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And she couldn’t think of an argument convincing enough to combat how good that request sounded.

So she did.

TBC...