Used, Chapter 68

[darkdreamer]

Hey, guys :)

Here's the next chapter of Used, hope you like it :)

*hugs*
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 68
Aftermath

 

“Okay… for the last time… here’s how it happened…”

House lowered his head to rest in one hand, his arms crossed on the table in front of him, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he prepared to tell his story again to the Mexican police sitting across the table from him. Aching with sheer exhaustion – not to mention the leg pain that had returned with a vengeance as the adrenaline high wore off – House was so tired that he could barely hold his head up anymore.

And yet, the questions kept coming.

Good thing I’m fluent in Spanish. Otherwise this might be seriously unpleasant.

He had explained to them three times already how he had come to be in Mexico in the company of a convicted felon and prison escapee, how Tritter had come to be both of those things, and how he had killed Tritter accidentally in an attempt to defend himself from being sexually assaulted again. Each time, his story was precisely the same – which was exactly what he knew they were looking for, the reason for their asking him over and over.

The fact that he understood the reasoning behind it did not make it any less frustrating and exhausting.

The knowledge that with each successful retelling their confidence in his credibility seemed to increase, did, however.

He was the sole witness to a suspicious death, and the admitted administering agent of that death. There was no way that they could simply let him go until they knew the details of the situation – and not just from his word on the matter. However, his calm, detailed, starkly accurate descriptions seemed to be gradually reassuring them that he was telling the truth.

So why are they making me talk about all of this again?

“Have you contacted the FBI yet?” House asked in perfect Spanish, weary impatience evident in his voice. “My friends will have reported this hours ago. Kidnapping is a federal offense in the U.S. The FBI will have some record to back up my story.”

“We have a call in to the FBI,” the officer questioning him replied in a cool, patient tone. “We haven’t received their response yet. As soon as they respond, we’ll be able to confirm or disprove your story, and take it from there. But for now… why don’t you tell me again about the gun? When did you gain access to the gun, and with what intention?”

House couldn’t keep an edge of irritation out of his voice as he sighed heavily. “Well, the answer to the second question should be obvious enough, and I already told you the answer to the first one. My friend distracted Tritter to give me the chance to get the gun. It was our only chance to get away from him… to keep him from killing us…”

“And you… volunteered to go with this man? Even after what you say he did to you?”

“I already told you. It was the only way I could think of to get him away from my friends. If I hadn’t made the offer, he’d have killed them. I had to…”

Before House could go on, the door to the questioning room opened, and another officer entered the room. He addressed his coworker in Spanish, casting a carefully blank glance in House’s direction, his expression betraying little – but House had no trouble understanding what was being said.

“He’s telling the truth. I just got off the phone with the FBI, and the photos they faxed me match both the deceased and the suspect. His friends reported his abduction several hours ago, and the story they told the FBI is a perfect match for his story. The agent in charge of the case said he’s on his way here to fill in all the details, and escort Dr. House back across the border.”

“Why should I have to wait for this FBI guy?” House spoke up in impatient irritation, rolling his eyes at the startled looks both men gave him, as if neither of them had remembered that he could understand them. “You just said my name’s been cleared.”

“Not officially,” the first officer replied in a slow, cautious tone. “We have to wait for the agent to confirm the details before we can release you.”

Defeated and exhausted to the point of surrender, House ran a shaking hand through his dirty, disheveled hair, letting out a deep, heavy sigh. His voice was low, trembling with pain and weariness, already knowing the answer to his weak, barely hopeful question.

“Don’t suppose you guys have access to prescription meds of any kind? In all the excitement of being kidnapped and nearly murdered, I seem to have left my painkillers at home.”

“I’m sorry.” The officer’s face bore an apologetic grimace as he shook his head. “We can’t give you any kind of medication until we’ve officially confirmed your identity.”

“Figures,” House muttered, closing his eyes and resting his head in his hands.

“I understand that this is difficult and frustrating, Dr. House,” the officer continued in a gentler, more patient voice. “I assure you, we’ll do everything in our power to make you as comfortable as possible while we await the agent’s arrival.”

True to his word, within hours, the officer had House set up in a comfortable hotel room, with a fully stocked mini-fridge, a thick stack of magazines, and cable television – all in Spanish, of course. House might have forgotten the gravity of his situation, and the fact that, for all the comfort of his surroundings, he was, for the moment, a prisoner – if not for the guard posted outside his door.

Resigning himself to the wait, House lay down on the comfortably firm mattress, resting his head gratefully on the soft pillows, thinking that perhaps he would take advantage of the time to get a little much-needed rest. Needless to say, he had not slept well the night before, his fitful rest interrupted many times during the night by the biting grip of the cuffs that had held him to the bed, or the ever-increasing ache building in his right leg.

If nothing else, sleep would serve to make the wait pass more quickly.

House realized almost immediately, however, that sleep would be long in coming. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind was assailed with vivid images of Tritter’s sneering face, sensory memories of Tritter’s rough, strong hands roaming possessively over his body as if he were nothing more than Tritter’s toy to be used.

House pulled himself up to a sitting position, blinking against the light as he reached for the remote control to turn the television on. He watched a few minutes of some mindless Spanish sitcom, before reaching for the pile of magazines on the floor beside the bed, placing it on the bed beside him and sifting slowly through them, in search of something interesting enough to distract him from his thoughts.

As long as he wasn’t trying to sleep, House was surprised – in a vague, detached sort of way – to realize that he felt strangely calm… almost numb, as if the greater part of his mind had not quite processed the reality of all that had happened to him. It felt as if he had watched it happen to someone else, watched someone else take Tritter’s life and eliminate the threat he presented forever. It seemed that it hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

And as long as he kept himself well-distracted… it wouldn’t.

House eventually gave up on the magazines and returned his half-hearted attention to the television, trying to focus on the rather clichéd plot of the romantic drama that had come on following the sitcom. He was too exhausted, too disinterested, to bother changing the channel.

Within a few minutes, his exhaustion overwhelmed him, and before he knew it, House had fallen into a light, fitful sleep, plagued with troubled dreams that caused him to toss and moan and twist the blankets beneath him in trembling, half-formed fists.

His sleep was light enough that when the door to his room opened about six hours later, the soft creaking sound was enough to draw him instantly from it. House sat up more quickly than he would have thought possible, his stomach lurching as he stared at the door through wide, panicked eyes – momentarily utterly convinced, despite all reason and evidence to the contrary, that it would be Tritter walking through that door to take his vengeance.

When he saw who it was, however, irrational panic gave way to grateful relief.

“Wilson,” he whispered, his shoulders sagging as he fell back against the headboard, struggling to catch the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “God, Wilson, it’s you…”

“House…” Wilson’s voice was trembling with emotion as he took a halting step closer to the bed. “God, House… you’re alive… I thought… I didn’t know… how did you…?”

Wilson gave up on words, shaking his head as he closed the remaining distance between himself and House to crouch beside the bed, reaching out to grasp House’s hand in his, in an impulsive gesture of affection.

“Are you okay?” Wilson asked, studying House’s face with tearful, wide-eyed concern. “Are you hurt?”

House stared back at Wilson blankly for a long moment, as if scarcely able to believe that he was really there. Wilson, no longer a bound and threatened prisoner, but here alive and safe and healthy by House’s side, lent the entire situation a sense of reality it had lacked in House’s mind. His head felt heavy and confused, overwhelmed with a sudden flood of memory and sensation, and House found himself, for once, beyond words.

He just shook his head slowly, not looking away from Wilson’s dark, tender gaze.

After a moment, he managed to get a few words out in a hoarse voice, haggard with pain and exhaustion and the overwhelming emotions he was struggling to repress.

“Just… just my leg.” House managed a weak, apologetic half-smile as he looked up to meet Wilson’s eyes. “You wouldn’t… happen to have thought to bring…?”

Wilson nodded without hesitation, a warm smile crossing his lips that House was fairly certain had never been a response to his requests for Vicodin in the past. Without a word of protest or reproof, Wilson reached into his pocket and took out a brand new vial of pills, pressing them into House’s palm. Immediately, with a grateful look, House twisted the cap off the vial and poured three of the pills into his palm, swallowing them all at once.

Wilson forced himself not to show any disapproval, or even alarm, at the sheer number of pills House had taken at once, as he continued. “I thought you might need these by the time we found you,” he explained. “I picked them up before we left the hospital.”

“We?” House echoed, looking pointedly around the room, empty except for them. “You came with… with the FBI agent?”

“Yeah,” Wilson confirmed. “We flew in. I already talked with the Mexican authorities. They took my statement, and the FBI agent is finalizing everything with them right now. I guess they just needed official confirmation of what you’d already told them.” He shrugged. “Anyway, he told me that whenever you’re ready, we can head out. I’ll take you to where we’re supposed to meet him.”

House nodded slowly, eyes downcast as Wilson’s words drew him back toward the mental images he was trying so hard to avoid. Wilson’s smile faded as he saw the haunted, uncertain look in House’s eyes, and he slid his hand up from House’s hand to rest on his forearm in a gesture of support and reassurance.

“You did it,” he murmured, unmasked admiration in his voice. “You stopped him for good.”

House didn’t quite meet Wilson’s eyes, and for a moment, Wilson wasn’t sure House had even heard him. When House did respond at last, his voice was flat, almost unsettlingly calm.

“It was self-defense. I didn’t really mean to kill him so much as… shoot his balls off. I… accidentally accomplished both.” House looked up to meet Wilson’s gaze at last, a deep earnest solemnity in his eyes as he added softly, “We’re safe now. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

A pensive, vaguely troubled frown creased Wilson’s brow as he searched House’s inscrutable eyes. His voice was soft, cautiously concerned, when he finally spoke again.

“House… are you… sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you… wanna talk about…?”

“I can’t think of a single thing I’d like to talk about less.” House cut him off sharply, turning his head away in self-conscious discomfort.

Wilson wasn’t quite ready to give up. He persisted gently, “I know it’s hard, but…”

“Just drop it, okay?” House insisted, his voice quiet and strangely calm. “I… don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Wilson relented immediately, his tone gentle and understanding. “That’s fine, House. Whatever you need.” He was quiet as he rose to his feet, looking down at House’s blank, distant expression with uncertainty and concern for a long moment, before reaching down to carefully help House to his feet. “Let’s just go home."

TBC...

/>
Find a Lawyer

Comments

[arhh.livejournal.com]

I love it when people either forget or don't realize you can speak another language and they speak it around you LOL.

Glad Wilson came for him :) Another great installment, thanks for sharing :)

[chaoskir.livejournal.com]

Oh wow! I do hope Wilson will be there for House in the future and I like that you don't let it end with an open end. Thank you. And still: I can't wait for the next chapter. That was a great and heartbreaking fic. Thank you so much for sharing this update. I like House is able to use this language and I'm glad he was that patient.

[bonomania.livejournal.com]

Brilliant chapter!
Very happy Wilson went to meet him.
*Hugs House - in the virtual world of course*
I hope Wilson's there for him when it all hits home...if it does.

x

[emeriin.livejournal.com]

Wilson is so awesome in this that I just want to take him home with me and cuddle him like a squishy toy. House too, even though that might be unwise considering what he's just been through. ;)

Anyway, I love this, I love that Wilson came and got him and I love the fact that shooting Tritter didn't completely make House's PTSD go away.

[chocolate-frapp.livejournal.com]

the guy who installed my carpet called me horrible names and cursed at me because he thought I couldn't understand Spanish but I have a lot of friends who happen to be Latino and I know what certain words mean that they do not teach you in Spanish class in school. I was pissed.

[chocolate-frapp.livejournal.com]

at least the worst is over, Wilson came and got him and now he can really heal emotionally. I want to kiss House here but he probably is in no shape to accept that sort of gesture.

[djfavorite.livejournal.com]

Very good!! I just knew you would have Wilson come to bring House home.

Keep up the great writing. I can't wait for the next chapter.

[menolly-au.livejournal.com]

Great, I'm glad he's not going to have trouble getting out of Mexico and back home. House's talent for languages comes in handy!

[lhoma320.livejournal.com]

Oh I love the way you handled this. Having the Mexican authorities question House and waiting on the FBI. Then having Wilson come and bring his pills. Plus, it sounds like it isn't over. House is going to have to talk about all of this. Gosh, I love the way you write. I love all the detail. Having House being able to speak to them in Spanish and understand them. Even though he is in a room safe, still having apprehension and thinking about Tritter. Nicely done. Love it!

[cathepsut.livejournal.com]

I see a lot of Angst on the horizon...

[forest-rose.livejournal.com]

Ha, I hope you replied to him in the appropriate language! Horrible man.

[forest-rose.livejournal.com]

Oh, this is great! I love how House is all bottled up again at the moment - you're right, he just wouldn't have the energy to deal with the emotional fallout. And yay, Wilson! I'm so glad he came for him. xxx

[barush.livejournal.com]

Hey!=) I'm relatively new to the fandom so I haven't started reading your fic yet. I'd love to, but somehow I can't find the first chapters anywhere. The tag here seems to go just to chap 29 or so but I can't find the previous ones. Could you point me to them, pls? = )

[automatic-rain.livejournal.com]

I've been a very bad girl and haven't left comments in a while... But I'm completely in love with this story. I know it sounds silly but it really makes my day when there's an update.
I like how you described House as being numb. Right now he's shell shocked and he can't feel anything. I'm sure this is how someone in this situation would feel in real life.
I can't wait for the next update!

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

I think you are going to kill me with all the angst and the denial and bottled up emotions.

Another shock too House´s already unstable emotional life and it wasn´t even that good to begin with. I think the doctor in him is going to call on him for what he did to Tritter (for the 4 min) but his rational side is going to say it needed to be done.

I think he´ll never be the same again, not after all of this and it´s going such a long time and huge amount of patience from Wilson & Cuddy for House to even get through this.

Love it, love every detail in it and sincerly hoping you think and type really, really fast so we can have another update soon :)

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

oh, all you need to do is friend my journal, i'm friending you now, and then you'll be able to access the other chapters.. some of the earlier ones were friends locked on here...

thanx so much for your interest, hon, looking forward to your thoughts on the story when you read it :)

*hugs*
DoS

[lizzielizzie.livejournal.com]

What she said!

[evila-elf.livejournal.com]

I cheered when Wilson walked through the door! Thought he was going to give House a huuuuge hug, hehe.

TBC
So thrilled that we haven't reached the end yet! :D

[chocolate-frapp.livejournal.com]

I told his boss and he got his ass fired.

[anarchic-prayer.livejournal.com]

I just stumbled upon your story and I just have to say that it's one of the best I've read. I loved this chapter, but I was wondering if I could read the beginning of the story as well...I could only get up to chapter 29 and it stopped.

Keepup the good work!

I'm a Survivor:)

[(Anonymous)]

You handled this great. I'm glad that Wilson didn't hug House; that would have been way too much for thim to handle at that point. (Wilson is awesome at knowing how to respond in delicate situations. Remember how he deals with Cancer patients every day...!) You were very accurate at having House feel numb. He'll probably still be having flashbacks, and he'll most likely have lots of nightmares. (Wonder if Wilson will try to prod House to get some therapy?) Also, it's very true that he won't be the same, but I'm sure he'll get through it...He's shown throughout that he's got the strength to do it!

[2cbetter2.livejournal.com]

*sighs* Ah thank you so much for letting Wilson come with the FBI agent because I know having Wilson with him will make the trip back to New Jersey that much easier for House.

And thank goodness for House's language skills as I imagine being able to speak/understand Spanish did keep things from getting too difficult for House with the Mexican authorities.

[caged-obsession.livejournal.com]

Deserved! I got somebody fired once, too, for being as terribly unprofessional =)

[caged-obsession.livejournal.com]

Poor traumatized House. :( He's going to need lots of patience and persistence to get through everything. I'm sure adding homicide to his list of ordeals didn't help, though it might have for a short time. It surely took the fear of a recurrence from Tritter, but he has always held pride in his role as a healer. I hope he doesn't beat himself up about it too much since he ultimately did it for his loved ones more than himself.

Having Wilson walk through that door was quite an emotional moment in this chapter. It seemed House was trying to decide what was reality and what wasn't. In his confused state, maybe he wasn't even sure the shooting happened!

Another reviewer said, "shell shock," and I would have to agree. House has shut down after too much stimulation. I hope Wilson and Cuddy will be there for him when his mind is able to process it all. No doubt House needs therapy, but I also think Wilson and Cuddy would benefit from it. They were kidnapped by the maniac, too and have been witness to the wreckage. I'm so glad you are going to continue this! Wonderful work!

[xohousexo.livejournal.com]

"Let's just go home."

Amen to that! Haha. I guess I was so happy that Tritter was out of the picture that I didn't consider the aftermath of House's self defense. I think the "numb" feeling you described was perfect. Just because Tritter is gone does not mean all of House's problems will magically disappear. I'm just glad he has Wilson and Cuddy to help get him throught this latest trauma. =)

--Vanessa <3