Disclaimer: I do not own House.
Warning for language.
--
The taillights from the car in front of him lit up signaling his need to slow as his bike rumbled to a stop at the intersection.
It was late.
He glanced at his watch, 2:30am.
So……maybe it was early.
With one leg on the ground steadying the bike, he momentarily dropped his head down and let a long sigh.
He glanced up to make sure the light was still red, before glancing to his right where a homeless man lay on the park bench, covered up in newspapers.
He snorted softly.
He didn't feel bad for those people; he had enough to worry about without adding that to his list.
The red hue bouncing off the plastic guard on his helmet disappeared and he looked up to see the light had turned green.
He scooted forward a few steps waiting on the car in front of him to turn, but before he was able to take off a familiar sound and flashing lights came up behind him.
Checking his mirrors he wasn't even remotely surprised to see the police car pull up behind him, just slightly nervous. It had barely been a week since the Tritter fiasco had finally ended, and if nothing else he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything wrong.
He pulled the bike onto the side street, in the same direction the car in front of him had just turned.
He shut off the bike, removed his helmet, and put the kickstand down, listening quietly as the car door behind him opened and shut and foot steps slowly approached.
House glanced up at the cop momentarily berating himself for actually thinking it might be Tritter.
"Morning, Officer." He said with a cocky grin.
"What seems to be the problem?" His grin faded slightly as the cop just stared back at him.
The cop folded his arms and gestured towards House, " License and registration."
Not taking his eyes off the other man House shrugged off his back pack, reached inside and produced the items for the officer.
The officer eyed the license carefully before returning his attention to House.
"Well, Mr. Gregory House."
There was a slow sinking feeling in House's stomach at the tone of the officer's voice.
"What are you doing out so early?" The man asked as he slowly circled House's bike.
House laid his hand on his upper leg as the ever present ache started to make it self known with a vengeance.
"I'm a doctor. I was working with a patient." House kept his answer short and just as sarcastic.
He was willing to bet his paycheck that this man was a friend of Tritter's.
House watched as the officer stopped in front of his bike, a smile on his face as his gaze met House's.
"Sit tight. I'll be back in a moment." He said holding his flashlight towards the piece of paper and plastic he was holding in his hand.
House cleared his throat, his uneasiness increasing.
"I know I'm just a lowly doctor, but isn't it customary to tell a person why you've pulled them over?"
The officer stopped and took a step back towards House, a sudden rage darkening his eyes.
"You'll know soon enough."
House watched the officer turn around and stock back to his vehicle, the interior light popped on as the man sat down and picked up his radio.
House turned his gaze back towards the street in front of him, everything in him was telling him that this was all wrong and he should leave now.
But….There was another voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Wilson's and it was telling him to stay. He didn't need more trouble right now and he was probably just blowing this out of proportion.
There was a squeal of tires from the traffic light behind them and House secretly hoped the cop would take off after some teenage misfits and leave him the hell alone.
But, it seemed luck wasn't on his side tonight.
Not that it ever was, he thought bitterly.
House watched as a white car pulled up diagonally in front of him, blocking any chance of escape he might have had.
Looking the car over carefully he realized it was the same car he had been following since he left the hospital, the one that had turned at the light just before he was pulled over.
Reaching down he yanked his cane off the side of the bike and hobbled painfully up into a standing position.
He turned around to confront the police officer, "What the he--." The rest of the sentence was left unfinished as a fist connected with his stomach.
He fell to his knees, his cane hitting the ground next to him as he cradled his arm around his abdomen.
He saw a hand reach down and grab his cane and he followed the motion back up to the police officer, who was now standing behind his bike wielding the cane like a baseball bat.
The cop smirked at House. "You want to know why I pulled you over?"
House carefully pulled himself to his feet, breathing heavily while favoring his leg.
The cop brought the cane down and smashed the taillight out of his bike.
"You have a broken taillight, Dr. House." He said with pure sarcasm.
House went to grab the man, but was stopped from behind as an arm reached around and wrapped itself around his throat.
"Paybacks a bitch, isn't it Dr. House?" The man from behind whispered in his ear, and even though House couldn't see him, he knew that voice anywhere.
It was Tritter.
House reached up and tried to remove the arm that was slowly suffocating him. "What? Your little cop ego can't handle the fact that I won?"
He really should know when to shut up.
Tritter tightened his hold from behind and House watched as the cop brought his cane up for another blow, this time aiming it towards him. He kicked out with both legs catching the cop in the stomach and knocking him to the side, wasting no time he elbowed Tritter in the stomach, knocking the hold he had on him loose.
He limped painfully towards the empty park next to him, wishing he had taken the more populated route home. He made it as far as the sidewalk before getting hit from behind the momentum knocking him to the ground.
House could feel a knee on his back as the person held him down, "I'll have your fucking badges for this." He yelled towards the ground, and then took a deep breath as the weight lifted from his back and he was able to roll over.
He stared up at the man he had come to hate over the last few months and the crazy cop who had broken his taillight and probably his cane.
Crazy cop stepped towards House, "Our badges? Take a look around, Dr. House, all you would be is a person who resisted arrest, there's no one to testify to anything different."
And House did look.
Besides the empty play ground, there was nothing but deserted buildings across the street and any pedestrian there might have been certainly wasn't out at 3:00 in the morning.
"Then arrest me." House said, pulling himself into a sitting position. " Unless this sort of thing turns you on."
Crazy cop growled and stepped towards House, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to his feet.
House bent over slightly favoring his bad leg, and stared at Tritter as he walked towards him.
"Let him go." Tritter waived away his henchman.
Crazy cop backed off and Tritter took his place. "I'm not going to arrest you, Dr. House."
House watched as Tritter glanced behind him, "Give me his cane." Tritter demanded, and House waited as the cop went over to his bike and picked the object up off the ground.
House looked on as Tritter took the cane and turned back to face him, he knew it was too much to hope that the other man might have gotten the cane for him.
Tritter took a step forward and House painfully limped backwards.
"What's the matter, Dr. House? Is the leg bothering you?" A smile appeared on Tritter's face as he pointed the cane towards House's leg.
House smirked, and then caught sight of crazy cop approaching from his right. "Is this a game of chase the cripple?"
"No, Dr. House." Tritter looked towards the cop and nodded his head in the direction of House. "This is what I like to call….. Teach the cripple a lesson."
The cop was on House before he could react, landing punch after punch to his midsection. House brought his arm back and punched the cop in the face, hearing a satisfying crack as he made contact with his nose.
His victory was short lived however as the cop recovered quickly and landed an upper cut to House knocking him to the ground and leaving him more than just a little dazed.
House prepared himself for another blow, but was surprised when nothing came. He looked up to see Tritter standing over him.
House reached up and wiped the blood from the side of his mouth, " I always knew you were chicken shit, Tritter, can't even fight your own battles."
He sat up slightly and spit blood out of his mouth onto Tritter's shoe.
"I don't have a thermometer handy, but if you want to bend over Tritter I'd be more than happy to shove that cane where th—."
"Arghh." House's world exploded into a mind numbing world of pain as Tritter brought the cane down on top of his bad leg.
He could taste blood as he bit into his tongue.
House could hear someone yelling, and then Tritter talking into his ear.
"Now we're even, House."
He leaned down and grabbed his leg between both hands and rolled back and forth on the sidewalk. He heard a loud crash, car doors slamming and then tires screeching as they drove away.
He opened pain filled eyes trying to figure out what had spooked Tritter and his goon.
His eyes allotted on a strange man standing in front of him, clothes old and tattered and he realized that's who had been yelling, it was the homeless man from the park bench.
House watched as the man tottered away, and then mercifully lost consciousness.
He wasn't out long because when he opened his eyes he noticed several things, it was still dark, he was still alone, and his leg still hurt like a bitch. He managed to pull himself into a sitting position before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone, he prayed Wilson would answer his cell phone.
Shakily he flipped his cell phone open, ignoring the blood that ran down his hand as he hit the familiar speed dial and brought the phone up to his ear.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
"House? It's 3 in the morning, what the hell do you want?" The tired voice of Wilson shot out over the telephone.
"A ride?" House whispered.
He heard Wilson groan, "Have you been drinking?"
Old habits die hard, he thought angrily.
Wilson lay back on the hotel room bed and waited for House to answer, they hadn't really spoken since the whole mess with Tritter had ended.
But House didn't answer so he continued. "If you need a ride home from the bar, House, try calling a taxi."
House moaned pitifully, "Forget it." He muttered, before flipping the phone shut.
Wilson shot up and threw the covers off him, House sounded like he was in pain and not just from his leg.
He picked up his cell phone and redialed his friend's number.
No answer.
He redialed while shoving his legs into his pants, yelping when he banged his knee into the side of the bed.
"You should try turning on a light, Wilson."
Wilson stopped trying to look for his shoes in the darkened room and held the phone closer to his ear. "House?"
There was a chuckle from the other side of the phone, "You're so predictable, Wilson."
Wilson reached over and flipped the light on. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"
House looked at the deserted street beyond him as he tried to remember exactly what street he was on.
"The corner of Cherry and Oscar, just look for the unconscious cripple on the side of the road."
The line went dead again and Wilson grabbed his keys and shot out the door.
()()()()()()()()()()
He moaned as pain shot through his jaw, someone was tapping the side of his face.
"Come on, House." The voice said.
"Wilson?" He cracked his eyes open and stared at the bleary sight of Wilson before him.
He wasn't sure if he had ever been so happy to see anyone, except for maybe the homeless man earlier.
"Damn it, House." Wilson hung his head down and shook it slightly.
"Was there an accident?"
House looked over at his beloved bike that was now lying on the ground.
"Yeah, something like that."
"What?" Wilson nearly shouted.
Wilson rolled his eyes and stared at House. "We'll talk about this later, but right now we need to get you to the hospital."
House batted Wilson's hand away, "No hospital, just take me home."
He watched House shift and then wince in pain, "Fine, no hospital. But you're coming back to the hotel with me." Seeing House ready to protest he brought his hand up, "It's either that or the hospital, and besides my place is closer."
"Fine." House grumbled. "But do me a favor and move my bike out of the way, into the alleyway over there." He said pointing towards the two buildings across the street.
He watched Wilson roll his bike across the street as he managed to get to his feet with the help of his cane. Wilson walked back over and picked up House's back pack and helmet, opening the back door of his car he laid them inside and then turned back towards House.
"Are you going to make it over here on your own?"
House nodded his head and began the painful limping process to Wilson's car, one arm tucked securely around his stomach and the other one with a death grip on his cane.
Wilson opened the door for him and watched as he collapsed onto the seat.
"You're going to need to put your feet in." He said waiting to close the door.
House reached out and gingerly lifted his leg and moved it inside the car, not caring if Wilson saw how bad he was shaking with the effort.
Wilson closed the door and took one last glance around before moving to the driver's side and getting in. He reached into the back seat and pulled the familiar bottle of pills out of House's pack.
He opened the bottle and handed it to House. "Here."
House's hands shook with the effort as he poured three pills into his palm and downed them he closed his eyes as he felt the car move down the road.
He opened his eyes and glared at Wilson, "I can hear you thinking, Wilson."
Wilson cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, "Here's the funny thing, House. You were wearing your helmet, right?"
"Right." House replied quietly.
"Ok." Wilson nodded his head. "So how did your face get all busted up? You already have a bruise the size of a fist on your face."
House glanced out his window as they stopped at a light.
"Did something else happen, House? Were you attacked?"
Wilson watched his friend tense up and knew he had his answer.
"We should go to the police."
House turned his head towards Wilson. "No police." He replied angrily.
A shocked expression came over Wilson's face. "But, House….."
"No!" House shouted.
"House at least let them take a report. You must have seen something."
House punch the dashboard in anger. "Trust me Wilson they won't help me. Something about protecting your own and all that jazz," He said waving his hand in the air.
A horrified expression came over Wilson's face as what more than likely happened started to come to mind.
House smiled at Wilson, seeing that his friend was starting to understand.
"Let it go, Jimmy. Please?"
Wilson's expression didn't change.
"It's over. We're even now."
He saw Wilson's hands tighten on the steering wheel before he closed his eyes and laid his head against the passenger door. He heard Wilson blow out a breath and then let out a breath of his own as the car started to move.
()()()()()()()()
House closed the door to the taxi and gave the driver directions.
He had woken up around 10 o'clock that morning to find a note from Wilson saying that he had talked to Cuddy and gotten him the day off.
He grabbed a quick shower and then called a taxi to take him to his bike.
A few minutes later he arrived at the intersection from the previous night, he paid the driver and hobbled out of the car.
He immediately saw the homeless man from the night before sitting on the bench, he walked towards him and the two stared at each other for a few moments.
House broke the gaze first, reaching down he pulled a couple of 100 dollar bills out of his pocket and placed it in the cup by the mans feet.
"This doesn't mean I like you." He said to the man before turning around and walking towards the alleyway that his bike was parked in.
He shook his head slightly as he put the kickstand on his bike up, the homeless man looked familiar.
He looked a lot like Wilson.