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Used, chapter 54 :)
*hugs*
DoS
Title: Used
Beta:
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Rating: R
Pairing: House/Wilson/Cuddy friendship, slight Wilson/OFC
Warnings: implied and explicit non-con, violence and non-con of a flashback/memory sort, mild language, general angst and trauma and darkness
Summary: One night leaving the hospital, a violent attack leaves House devastated and broken. In the aftermath, Wilson and Cuddy struggle to find a way to help him heal -- while House fights just to find a way to survive.
Chapter 54
Perspective
House struggled to breathe through the panic that overwhelmed him, and the desperate wave of nausea that choked him as he retched helplessly into the toilet in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought not to black out. His thoughts were a dark, swirling vortex, sucking him back down every time he struggled to the surface, fighting not to drown in his own panic and desperation.
He's going to kill me... I can't testify, can't make myself face him and tell what he did, but it doesn't matter because either way he's going to kill me...
When there was nothing left in him for his body to reject, House still crouched over the toilet, his knees throbbing from the force with which they had hit the cold tile, his thigh aching from the uncomfortable position, and his stomach still clenched in cold, trembling knots as his entire body shook with dread.
It's hopeless. I can't do this, can't tell them, and it's over... he wins... he's going to walk, and I'll never be safe again, and Wilson and Cuddy and Jenna and anyone I've ever told about him is going to die and it's all because of me...
And… I didn't lock the door when I came in here... he could come in at any time... he could be outside this stall right now...
Although he knew on a purely intellectual level that Tritter was in shackles in the courtroom and couldn't touch him, House felt a sudden, irrational chill of terror wash through him, as he remembered what he'd neglected in his rush to get to the bathroom.
Suddenly, he felt incredibly vulnerable, on his knees on the bathroom floor, and all he could think was that he needed to get to his feet. Grasping the back of the toilet for leverage, House dragged himself to a standing position with an agonizing effort, bracing himself on one hand as he reached blindly for his cane, which he had dropped somewhere along the way.
Before he could reach it, he felt warm, strong hands at his waist -- and lurched away from them in panic, whirling around and pushing blindly at them, shaking his head, struggling to free himself.
"No... no, don't touch me! Let go of me, no!"
A hard hand gripped his throat, silencing his cries and shoving him against the wall with a violent, painful impact. The rough, unyielding hand tilted his chin upward, forcing him to look into the familiar, terrifying eyes of the man who had broken him, smiling down at him with cold, taunting menace in his gaze.
"I told you you'd never be able to beat me," Tritter sneered. "I told you I'd win. There's no way you'll ever forget what I did to you -- and that means that no matter what happens... I win."
The hand at his throat tightened cruelly, cutting off his oxygen, and House fought frantically, gasping for breath, flailing and struggling blindly in an attempt to free himself and gain his breath.
No, no, no... he cried out in his mind. No, don't let him... not like this... don't let him get me again...
***************************
"No, don't let him... don't let him get me again!"
Wilson's heart lurched, his throat throbbing with the tears that streaked his face at House's frantic, fevered plea, almost childlike in its simplicity and desperation. He reached out firm but gentle hands to catch House's flailing wrists, trying to control his blind, panicked struggles long enough to make him understand that he was safe, that the foe he thought he was fighting was, at the moment, imaginary.
"House... House, it's okay... it's just me... you're okay..."
"No, no, please don't..."
House's voice was slurred, breathless, exhausted, as he tried to pull away from Wilson's gently restraining hands, though his struggles grew weaker as he collapsed against the wall, his knees giving out beneath him. He still weakly tried to push
"Shhh,"
At last, House opened his eyes, wild and filled with panic and confusion, to gradually focus on
"Shhh, come here..."
This time,
"It's going to be all right, House," he murmured, raising a hand to stroke gently through House's disheveled, sweat-dampened hair. "You're going to be fine. He can't hurt you anymore. You're safe, and you're strong, and you can do this..."
House shook his head, gasping for breath, struggling to regain his composure enough to respond. Realizing that he wanted to speak,
Finally, House spoke, his barely audible whisper echoing off the metal walls of the bathroom stall.
"Y-you don't understand. He's still... controlling everything..."
"He's not in control anymore, House,"
"He just kept... staring at me... the whole time," House continued, heedless of
Somehow, he was sure, I’m going to kill that sick bastard, just wasn’t going to cut it.
"I think he... I think he wants to hear it," House whispered.
House's breath was now coming in short, urgent gasps, and Wilson could feel his body tensing, on the verge of fresh panic. Feeling helpless in the face of the power of House’s trauma, Wilson just held him tight, and did his best to soothe his fears, despite the uselessness he felt.
"Sure you can," he said in a soft, carefully calm voice, swallowing back his own sob. "House... you already have. You've already told your story, several times before. All you have to do is the same thing you've already done..."
"Yeah... but..." House looked up at him, and the lost, terrified look in his eyes made
"Maybe... maybe you should… just tell me… again, then."
House frowned in confusion, shaking his head slightly. "What...?"
"Just tell me again... while you're on the witness stand,"
House swallowed hard, lowering his gaze with uncertainty.
"Hey. Look at me,"
House stared at him, understanding dawning gradually in his eyes, then nodded slowly, hope beginning to surface in his expression.
"That... might actually work..."
"It has to work,"
"We're already past the point of no return, House. It's too late to reconsider this now. I know you're scared. I know your mind is screaming at you to keep your mouth shut, because of the things he said he'd do to you if you didn't. Well... you already 'didn't'."
"No brainer."
House nodded slowly, looking away as he thought about what
It was an easy choice, really.
“Just keep your eyes on me,”
House tentatively returned his smile, nodding slowly in reluctant acceptance as he drew awkwardly away from
With tenderness and care that brought a fresh lump to House’s throat,
House felt a bit like a child being reassured after a nightmare – but considering that he felt a bit like he was actually living a nightmare, he decided that for the moment, he could tolerate it. He allowed
“Okay,”
“Ready,” House echoed with a quiet nod. “Let’s do this."
TBC...