darkdreamer | Used, chapter 67

Hey, guys :) I'm thinking you'll probably really like this chapter... but let me know what you think, kay? ;) hehe

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DoS

Title: Used
Beta:

misanthropicobs
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 67
Showdown

As House cautiously swung his legs over the side of the bed, his thigh was consumed with a searing, explosive burst of agony, and he bit back the strangled cry that rose in his throat. It had been far too long since his last Vicodin – much longer than he was used to going without it – but he did not want to call Tritter’s attention to that fact. He knew very well that if Tritter realized, it would give him one more weapon to use against him – and at the moment, the odds were as much against House as he could stand.

Tritter stood facing him as House rose on shaking legs, one hand braced on the night stand for support, then lowered himself slowly and painfully to his knees on the floor, as Tritter had commanded. House fought against the sick swell of panic blooming in his chest, well aware that as long as Tritter was watching him so closely, he didn’t dare make a move for the gun concealed beneath his jacket.

And unfortunately, that gun was the only thing that stood between him and another incident of brutal degradation.

House felt a trapped, claustrophobic sensation fill him, his brow breaking out in a cold sweat, as Tritter took several slow, measured steps closer to him, until he was standing directly in front of his kneeling captive. House closed his eyes, swallowing hard as Tritter pressed his own gun firmly against House’s temple, his other hand running through his hair in an unsettlingly gentle, possessive gesture. Tritter’s voice was soft, calm, utterly in control, as he issued further orders.

“You’re going to do just as I tell you, and you’re not going to try anything stupid, House. You know why? Because you’re not worth the trouble… and if you give me any, I’ll just kill you right now and be done with it. On the other hand… if you do a really good job, and make me really happy, well… I might just let you wait another day to do anything more. All right?”

House nodded quickly, his eyes still closed and downcast, his heart racing as he struggled to focus on the situation at hand, well aware that he would only have one chance, and if he failed to take it, or misjudged the timing by even a fraction of a second, he would be dead in the next instant.

“Good,” Tritter murmured in the same disturbingly reassuring tone, as if he were speaking to a small, not-particularly-bright child. “Very good. Now… why don’t you go ahead and get started?”

House reached for the front of Tritter’s pants with trembling, uncertain hands, flinching slightly when Tritter pressed a bit harder with the gun at his head, a wordless warning against attempting to take advantage of the somewhat vulnerable state in which Tritter was about to be.

House had every intention of taking advantage, however – because he knew that it was likely to be the only opportunity he would have.

Still, he kept his motions slow, cautious, and tentative, as he slid Tritter’s zipper down and carefully maneuvered the large man’s rather intimidating erection from the confines of his pants.

“That’s it,” Tritter murmured, staring down at House through eyes that were heavy-lidded with lust at his own power. “Good… nice and slow…”

House was sickened by Tritter’s words and tone more than by the fact that he was being forced to touch his rapist, required to bring him pleasure simply to survive. In fact, once Tritter’s swollen, reddened member was in his hand, House actually felt a rush of anticipation at the knowledge that, although Tritter thought himself to be utterly in control of the situation, he was about to take back the power this man had stolen from him.

If he could only get past the sense of paralyzing terror that threatened to rise up within him at the thought of making his move… only to have it fail, and leave him still at Tritter’s mercy, and worse, facing his wrath as a result of his act of defiance.

House slid his hand slowly up and down the length of Tritter’s erection, trying hard not to think about exactly what it was he was doing, and instead to focus on what he was about to do.

He just had to wait until Tritter was just a little bit distracted…

When House felt the muzzle of the gun shift slightly at his head so that it was no longer pressed directly against his temple, but angled slightly downward toward the floor – still close enough that Tritter felt secure in its threat, but not close enough to do instantaneous damage without being re-aimed – he knew that it was time to make his move.

“Don’t think you’re… gonna get by with that,” Tritter muttered, his head falling back slightly, his words divided by a shuddering gasp of pleasure at House’s touch. “You’re gonna have to… use a little bit more than… than just your hand… if you wanna get by without…”

“I-I know,” House hurriedly replied, suppressing a shudder at the chilling suggestion of Tritter’s words, well aware that, should his plan fail, Tritter would not be likely to honor his promise not to rape House that night, anyway. “I will… I’m just… just… working up to it…”

“Right,” Tritter muttered, a note of impatience in his voice. “Work… faster.”

“Okay,” House replied in a low, subdued voice, barely over a whisper, swallowing hard to moisten his dry throat. “Okay… just… give me a minute…”

House took Tritter’s command as an opportunity to intensify the pressure he was applying with his hand, drawing Tritter to a point of further distraction, and subtly sliding his hand further into Tritter’s open pants. He struggled against the light-headed, sick feeling of panic that threatened to overwhelm him as he prepared to make his move.

Don’t think, don’t think, just act… just do it before you can think yourself out of it…

Before he could change his mind, House stroked his thumb slowly down the inside of Tritter’s thigh in what he hoped passed for a sensual gesture – then abruptly pressed directly into a particular spot, as hard as he could, holding his breath as he waited for the expected result.

Tritter collapsed forward onto his knees with a surprised grunt of pain, his grip on his gun going slack and allowing the weapon to fall to the floor. House quickly snatched it up as he scrambled backward away from Tritter’s writhing, moaning form, trying to get out of the larger man’s reach before he could recover enough to retaliate.

He only stopped when his back hit the wall at the foot of the bed farthest from the door, and he struggled to pull himself to his feet without the aid of his cane, still locked in the trunk of his car. After a few wasted, panicked moments spent trying to get a good enough grip on the bed to stand up, House realized that his frighteningly limited time would be better spent on more important things – like the gun.

If he gets up before I can get to it… if he gets to me before I can stop him… I’m dead… if I’m lucky…

He spent several frantic moments fumbling for the weapon concealed in his jacket, helplessly watching as Tritter struggled to his knees with a groan, the pain gradually fading enough to allow him to react to House’s rebellion. Then, all at once, House remembered Tritter’s gun, still in his hand – and every bit as useful as the one he was trying so hard to access.

Stupid, stupid… focus, come on, focus… he’s already getting up…

“You little shit,” Tritter muttered through clenched teeth, bracing himself on the bed beside him as he pulled himself slowly to his feet. “What the hell did you do to me?”

House held the gun up in front of him with both hands, struggling to control their trembling enough to maintain a steady aim on his slowly advancing opponent.

“Pressure point,” he answered automatically, the words falling from his lips without the need to consciously think of the answers beforehand. “There’s a very effective one in the upper inner thigh that can momentarily incapacitate a man – bring him to his knees with pain and make him lose control of his extremities long enough to, say… lose control of any dangerous weapons he might be holding at the time.”

“Great,” Tritter replied, an ugly, malicious smile forming on his lips through the pain that still lingered, as he took one unsteady, lurching step closer to where House huddled against the wall across the room. “Too bad your moment’s up now.”

“But it’s not,” House insisted, his voice shaking, but carrying a note of defiance, as he raised the gun slightly in his hands, bravely holding Tritter’s menacing gaze. “I’ve got the gun, and you’ve got nothing. Don’t come any closer to me.”

“Please,” Tritter scoffed, stopping a moment at the edge of the first bed, one hand braced on it as he struggled to catch his breath. He was seemingly unaffected by the sight of his own gun in House’s hand. “You really expect me to be afraid of you?”

“You should be.” House’s voice was quiet, gradually growing steadier with his rising confidence. “I’m a pretty good shot. And since I do happen to be a doctor, I know exactly where to aim for maximum effect.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that you know where to shoot, or how to shoot,” Tritter replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, straightening again and closing even more of the distance between them. “I just don’t think you can actually do it – actually take another human life.” His voice softened, and a cold smile formed on his lips. “And I think you’ve learned your lessons a little too well, House. I don’t think you’ll dare pull that trigger. I don’t think you’ve got it in you to kill me.”

“I don’t have to kill you.” House’s expression was emotionless, his eyes wide and solemn, his hands no longer trembling on the gun they bore. “I just have to stop you – and I know exactly where to aim to accomplish that as quickly as possible.”

Tritter’s eyes widened with horrified understanding as he realized what House was saying – a moment before House pulled the trigger.

Searing agony tore through Tritter’s groin, as blood poured from his mutilated genitals, still exposed from his last attempt to violate House. With a scream of pain, Tritter dropped to his knees once more, his hands falling to cover the damaged area, but unable to ease the pain or the bleeding. A second bullet reduced the meager shield of his hands to ribbons, followed by a third that ensured that surgical repair to Tritter’s manhood would not be an option.

Naturally, Tritter was utterly unaware, lost in his own torment, as House tried once more to get to his feet – and in the absence of his former panic, found it surprisingly easy this time. A sort of calm, detached feeling overcame House as he made his way in slow, limping steps to stand over his former abuser, staring down at the wreckage to which he had reduced him in the space of a few moments.

House was no longer aware of the throbbing ache in his over-taxed thigh… no longer felt that overwhelming sensation of sick terror in the pit of his stomach… was not even aware of the tears of relief and righteous satisfaction that streaked his face, until he felt a warm drop of moisture on the back of his hand, and stared down at it in a sort of detached surprise. He slowly looked back to Tritter, watching coolly, impassively, as the larger man writhed on the floor in agony, grinding out curses and cries of pain through clenched teeth.

“If nothing else,” House stated softly, unsure even if Tritter was able to hear him above the sounds of his own suffering, “I’ve made sure you’ll never be able to hurt anyone else again – not like you did before. I’ve always believed that the punishment should fit the crime.”

Apparently, House’s quiet words did manage to register in Tritter’s pain-wracked mind, and served to draw a fevered, helpless rage from his lips.

“You stupid little bitch!” Tritter spat. “You think this is over? I’ll kill you, House! I don’t care if I go back to prison, don’t care how far you try to run… I’m going to keep coming after you, and I’m going to destroy you and everyone you love! This will never be over for you; I’ll just keep coming and keep coming until I’ve made you pay for this. You are dead, House! Dead!”

House seemed unmoved by Tritter’s threats, staring down at him as a slow, strange smile began to form on his lips. His voice was soft, barely over a whisper, as he responded with a single word.

“Thanks.”

Tritter frowned, puzzled and alarmed. “For what?”

“For giving me the reason I need to do what I deserve.”

Without hesitation, he raised the gun and fired again. This time, the bullet struck Tritter in the place where his upper thigh met his groin, eliciting a fountain of blood that began to pour from the wound with alarming speed. Tritter’s right hand shifted in an instinctive attempt to stem the flow, as he stared back and forth between the injury and the man who had inflicted it, the horror of realization dawning in his eyes.

“I’ve got the perfect story,” House explained quietly, simply watching with cool detachment. “You were trying to rape me again, and I just couldn’t take it. I was aiming for your dick, in an emotion-fueled desire to stop you and avenge what you’ve done to me… but I’m a doctor, not a marksman… so I missed...” House held Tritter’s gaze, his own dark and intent as he added, “… and in the process happened to accidentally hit a crucial artery located in the upper thigh. Before I could realize what I’d done, I fired again, several times, into your groin – not a single one of those shots intended to kill, only to defend myself against being raped again. Completely justifiable homicide – manslaughter at worst.”

House was quiet for a few moments, allowing the impact of his words to sink in before delivering another blow.

“Once that particular artery is severed, the average man bleeds out in less than six minutes…” He glanced down at his watch before meeting Tritter’s eyes again. “… which means I’ve got about five minutes to wait before going to find help.”

Panic slowly rose in Tritter’s eyes as he watched House’s face, saw the solemn honesty in his eyes as he spoke his cold words, dooming Tritter to his fate. Desperately, Tritter clutched at the wounds, struggling to staunch the flow of blood, to no avail.

“You can’t just do this!” he sputtered. “You can’t just stand there and watch me die!”

“No, you’re right. I can’t,” House agreed, waiting a moment before limping past Tritter and falling heavily into a chair near the door, still within sight of his fallen foe. “It’s been a while since my last Vicodin. I’d better sit down for this.”

“What about the Hippocratic oath? You’re a doctor, for God’s sake! What about that moral code of yours, House?” Tritter argued in a bitterly accusing voice. “What about your twisted set of personal ethics that you’re so unwilling to back down from? Your code says it’s all right to idly sit by and watch a man suffer and bleed to death?”

“My code says I needed a very good reason,” House countered quietly, no trace of guilt or hesitation on his face. “It says that the only way I could kill you is if I knew beyond any doubt that it was the only way to keep you from killing me and the people I love – and you removed that doubt. Thanks for that.”

A soft, ironic smile crossed House’s lips, his eyes devoid of any pity, as he stared down at Tritter, watching as his life’s blood poured from his veins to soak the cheap carpet of the motel floor.

“However… my code doesn’t say a damn thing about your death being quick or easy.”

By the time House limped hurriedly from the motel room to the front desk to get help four minutes later – Tritter was unconscious.

By the time the local police arrived in the company of an ambulance – he was dead.

/>
Accident Lawyers

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From:

forest-rose.livejournal.com

YAY! Oh, this was just as wonderful as I'd hoped! Well done, House, I'm so proud of you! Now to find Wilson and get the comfort he needs....

Fantastic chapter, love! xxx

From:

Used, chapter 67

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