Title: Baptized by Fire
Status: WIP; Sequel to previous fic, Blood, Sweat, and Tears
Rating: Let's go with M, just to give me some leeway. Most of it should stay reasonably T though.
Genre: Action/Suspense mostly. I'll be hinting at some relationships that I couldn't get to last time and will incorporate them into this fic.
Time Period: Almost one month after the events of blood, sweat and tears
A/N: I've put this sequel off for a long time because I've been so busy, but the episode "last resort" of House stirred up my urge to continue this. Then of course, I was reminded of all the fun I had writing "blood, sweat, and tears" and I just couldn't help myself. I have some great ideas for this and I hope you all will join me for another suspenseful, action packed ride!
For those of you who have forgotten the events of the prequel to this story, don't worry (I did too)
You can either go back and re-read it (or read it for the first time for some of you) or read this short summary I've made specifically for your memory's sake.
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Previously on "Blood, Sweat, and Tears" :
PPTH was taken hostage while Cuddy was taking a break up on the hospital's roof. The armed men quickly took the hospital hostage while Cuddy attempted to devise an escape plan.
Meanwhile, inside the hospital, things are going from bad to worse as the main gunman, Michael Wolfe, grows impatient for the Dean of Medicine's arrival. Cuddy is eventually captured and brought to Michael, just in time to save a hostage's life. The terms of the hold up are arranged and Cuddy must now collect a surgical team to perform surgery on a high risk patient—a mere child (son of a former patient, Jay McKeaver)
The team meets in the OR (House, Cuddy, Chase, Foreman, and Wilson) and are prevented from operating as the boy decided to take matters into his own hands and gains possession of House's concealed gun. The boy threatens to take his own life, and Cuddy's instincts propel her toward the boy, the action causing a reaction from Michael, shooting Cuddy in the shoulder.
This spurs a reaction from House first, as he attacks Michael. The rest of the team joins in against their own gunman and take a beating easily. They are stopped only by the sound of another gunshot. The boy had taken his own life. Shock registers in everyone, and Michael stumbles for his escape. House tries to stop him, but his injuries catch up to him as well as the rest of his team.
Michael is on his way out—no consequences. Cuddy tries to stop him by aggravating him and calling him a coward, but it only stalls him momentarily. As Michael exits, Cameron makes her entrance and is pushed aside, but takes an opportunity to trip Michael in his dazed state and the rest of the gunmen.
Before they know it, Cuddy and the rest of the team are looming over them and the police have arrived.
The doctors are treated for their wounds and later, House finds Cuddy up on the roof. Hesitantly, he asks her (or rather tells her) if she would like to accompany himself and Wilson for a drink later. Every thing is relatively back to normal, the only thing bothering Cuddy being the forewarnings of Michael as he was arrested.
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A/N: Alright, that should be sufficient. Please READ and REVIEW!!! You know the drill!
Disclaimer: House, M.D. belongs to David Shore and FOX. I am making no money from this; this is only written for fun.
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"I don't see Wilson anywhere," Cuddy scanned the bar a few blocks down from the hospital for any sign of Wilson and looked back at House expectantly.
"Maybe he's late," offered House lamely, giving a halfhearted attempt at scanning through the bodies in the crowded bar to look for Wilson before bringing his attention back to the woman beside him.
"We're thirty minutes late," negated Cuddy, her tone dropping.
"Oh," said House, feigning surprise. "He must've stood us up," he concluded dismissively. Cuddy narrowed her eyes at House suspiciously. "What a bastard," he added, trying to come off more angry than indifferent as he placed his left hand on Cuddy's right elbow and led her to an open end of the bar.
"What are we doing, House?" asked Cuddy as they settled into their seats.
House gestured for the bartender as he hooked his temporary cane on the edge of the counter. "Right now, we're sitting," stated House in a 'duh' tone, then added, "pretty soon we'll be drinking, then if we're drunk enough, maybe we'll go back to my place and—"
"Fuck!" An obviously drunken man spilled his drink into Cuddy's lap and the now empty glass shattered on the floor at Cuddy's feet. The homeless looking man offered his slurred apologies though a messy goatee and attempted to wipe at Cuddy's soaked jeans with his dry and cracked hands, removing his thin jacket as a makeshift napkin.
Cuddy leapt from her stool and urged the man away, which he quickly complied with, happy to clumsily wade through the now semi-crowded establishment most likely in search of more liquor.
Beside her, House made absolutely no attempt to conceal his enjoyment of Cuddy's embarrassment. "At least you aren't wearing that white skirt, right?" offered House through a fit of laughter.
Cuddy sighed and looked down at her lap. She turned to make her way toward the ladies' room, ignoring the laughter from behind her all the way.
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Cuddy turned the faucet on and grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser beside her. She wet the paper towels and began wiping at her soaked jeans, growing increasingly more pungent in smell. She could hear someone enter the restroom after her, but paid no mind to the intrusion—it was a public bathroom after all.
As she scrubbed away at her now uncomfortable jeans her mind wandered to House's motives. Why did he tell her Wilson was joining them when he obviously wasn't? What was he hoping to accomplish tonight? Before her thoughts could go any further a voice from behind broke her train of thought.
"Could I help you with that?" A blond woman of about the same height and build of Cuddy herself had entered the room with Cuddy and already began digging in her purse probably for a napkin or handkerchief.
"Oh, no I'm fine, thank you," responded Cuddy as she reached for another towel, only to find that the dispenser had gone empty. Cuddy sighed again and leaned with one hand against the sink, looking into her reflection against the mirror in front of her.
She didn't look hardly as bad as she felt, even under the harsh lights of the bar's bathroom. Her jeans were soaked almost down to the knee and she could feel the sticky liquid cold against her thighs. Her most obvious physical trait, she accepted, was the sling around her left shoulder. She had been wearing it for nearly a month now, and was getting used to it, but the memories it conjured always sent shivers down her spine. She picked up her right hand. It was wet. Why were public bathrooms always wet? She now had nothing to wipe her hand on and placed it back on the counter in defeat.
The woman placed one hand gently on Cuddy's right shoulder and extended her right hand to Cuddy. With a delicate, yet grateful smile Cuddy accepted the object, but before she could even look down at what the woman had given her, she was out the door as quickly as she entered, not even stopping to use the restroom. Confused and alone once again, Cuddy directed her eye line to the object enclosed in her palm. What she held was not a napkin as she suspected, but what resembled a note folded into printer paper. Quickly wiping her hand on her jeans, she unraveled the note.
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"It's getting late, House, we should go." Cuddy returned to the bar and urged House away from his drink.
"Why the rush?" asked House, patting his free hand on the cushion of the stool next to him, prompting Cuddy to sit back down. "If your pants are too uncomfortable now, just take them off." He held out a glass to her, then added sarcastically, "and don't worry about contracting any diseases, we'll wipe the stool after you're done using it."
Before Cuddy could respond, a voice entered the conversation from behind her.
"Hey guys, sorry I'm so late." Wilson rolled up in between Cuddy and House in his wheelchair with a cane nestled atop his lap. He picked up the cane and extended it to House.
The slick mahogany cane was exchanged wordlessly and Wilson continued his apology, "I had a little trouble getting out of the house."
Cuddy didn't question him, either because she knew that was a definite possibility due to his temporary lack of mobility, or because she was shocked at his presence at all—he showed up. House hadn't lied to her. She was happy to see Wilson, but at the same time she felt almost disappointed—why exactly she did not know, but she pushed the feeling aside for their new company's sake.
"So what did I miss?" began Wilson, who regretted the question immediately as House broke out into a devilish smile and he caught sight for the first time of the condition of Cuddy's jeans. How could he have missed that? He was sitting directly at eye level with Cuddy's lower half!
Cuddy brushed off the incident before House had a chance to incorporate his point of view. Luckily, House was engrossed in retrieving yet another drink and missed his opportunity.
Unexpectedly by either of the men, Cuddy leaned down and gave Wilson a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for coming, Wilson, but I have to go."
She truly was sorry; they had not spent much time together for almost a month—any of them. Their schedules revolved around their physical therapy and recovery—much of which was spent in their own separate homes. This was probably the first time Wilson had been out of his house since he had been released from the hospital's care. Everyone, it seemed, beside House, Cameron, and Cuddy herself had taken time off work to recover.
House's facial reconstruction surgery had come and gone quickly, and his pain was quelled by his already elevated intake of vicodin. He had cut back, yes, but Cuddy reasoned it was because the new pain was a welcomed distraction from his damaged thigh.
Cameron had sustained virtually no injuries, and was spreading her good will by regularly visiting everyone, even Cuddy while she worked in her office.
Cuddy deemed herself extremely lucky to have not taken the bullet too close to any major artery or the bone of her clavicle to the extent of needing any major surgery. She was even almost to the point of removing her sling.
Foreman, Chase, and Wilson, on the other hand...
Foreman was the best off, Cuddy reasoned. He took a few days off for plenty of cuts and bruises. He could have worked through them, but Cuddy was feeling generous given the circumstances. She would have given him time off for emotional trauma if he asked. Chase, conversely, had broken the bones in his right arm and had been sporting a cast for the past month, but was back to work now, along with Foreman—still cast ridden, but working nonetheless.
The only doctor still away from work was Wilson. He had broken two vertebrae in his back and could hardly move from the trauma. He was currently, and had been since the incident occurred, wearing a full back brace and confined to a wheelchair to limit any painful movement within that particular region of his back. Luckily, no bone fragments were caught in his spinal canal, and his physical therapy was showing to be exceptionally promising. He was scheduled to be out of his wheelchair and back to work the next day—he would still be wearing the back brace, of course, until the bones healed on their own.
Cuddy pushed past the mass of people in the bar, making her way toward the exit. House and Wilson exchanged a glance before House stood from his seat with his new cane, leaving his old one behind. Wilson trailed behind slowly, resolving not to drink the night before he was expected to return to work.
House caught up with Cuddy as she was about to hail a cab. He had driven her there, and he would take her back. Well, she would take them back because he had been drinking, but regardless, she was not taking a cab on his watch.
The night had not occurred as he had hoped it might, but what exactly he was expecting he had no clue. The only thing he did know was something happened while Cuddy was in the restroom, and he was going to find out what.
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A/N: Well, it seems to me that the infamous purple (blue?) button has become no longer a button, and much less purple, but green. Regardless, it still deserves some attention! Please Review, you know why! Oh, and if you want to push the purple button anyway, feel free :)
Come on y'all; let me know what you think! The action is promised to escalate soon! We all know first chapters are only a formality of introductions! I'm excited for more, how about you!?