So ahem...I know I started this story like two years ago and then I kind of left it hanging. But I got flamed, and I lost my confidence. I shouldn't of let that happen. This is me telling you now, flames are not appreciated. Constuctive crit. is welcomed with open arms, but I will not tolerate flaming. Go take your anger out on kick boxing or something.
But anyways. I revived this story, and I remembered that I liked it. So I re-vamped it since I write better now, changed all the should of and would ofs to should have and would haves (I was really bad at that), and I changed somethings that make it better. So I'm going to post the rest of the fic. For those that read it before, I suggest going back and reading chapters 1-6 to remember what happened (it was a long time ago) and because somethings did change.
The plot of this has the characters from a season one episode Mob Rules. You don't have to see it to understand the story. Just that they were mob guys, one of them came in for treatment, House cured him, the he (the patient, not House) went into witness protection. The rest is explained in the fic.
So I hope you like it, and as always, R&R! And have fun!
Oh and if you've been reading my humor fic Ask a Doctor! let me tell you that this is very different.
Disclaimer: I don't own House. If I did, the old fellows would still be working with House.
House grabbed a file off of the top of the seemingly endless pile on the nurse's desk. Woo hoo. With every new day, there was always another sick patient to cure. House just couldn't maintain his enthusiasm for clinic duty.
House quickly read the file. Symptoms: cough. Wow, this was going to be a toughie, he might even have to call for help to diagnose this challenging medical mystery. Yeah, right.
House sighed and limped toward exam room two, where the coughing, sniveling patient awaited.
When House opened the door, he noticed two unusual things. One, the supposedly sick guy was standing, leaning against the opposite wall and looking very non-sick. And two, the guy looked strangely familiar, although House could not place his identity.
"Hello...," House glanced back down at the file. "Joseph." House still couldn't remember where he would know him from, but House shook off the déjà vu feeling and shut the door behind him. Maybe he was just imagining it. "How can I help you today?" House asked as he sat at the rolling stool and flipped open the medical chart.
The guy took a step closer to House. "Close the blinds," he firmly ordered.
House looked at the man curiously, but did as he was told. After he shut the blinds, he turned back to the guy. Great, House thought. He probably wants to show me his Gonorrhea.
"You know me, but you don't know from where, right?" the guy asked.
"Uh..." This was defiantly not the question House was expecting. "Should I? Do I owe you anything? Because if I do, I'm sorry it's going to have to wait."
"You should remember me. My brother, Joey, came in a couple of months ago. He was sick, and you cured him," the man said as he walked around the examination table.
"But who are you? Are you really Joseph…Copeland?" House asked, holding up the file.
"I gave a fake name to the nurses. I'm really Bill Arnello." He stood over House, looking down menacingly. "Do you remember me now?"
House was starting to remember vaguely. He was one the brothers that had been in the mob business. The other brother, Joey had been the one that was sick, and had gone into witness protection after House had treated him. House vividly remembered
Bill threatening him, and any others that got in the way. However, House had not been bothered by him since, nor done anything to deserve a call from the "family" business.
"Of course I remember you Bill," House said. Maybe Bill wasn't here to punish House. After all, it was Bill and his brother that had given him his new Corvette that he had had for a short amount of time. "How can I help?"
"After my brother went home, he was okay and all. So he went and testified and went into witness protection as planned," Bill explained as he walked to the window and peered through the blinds. "Until he died two months later."
The emphasis that Bill put on the last sentence worried House. "Did the uh, defendant get him?" House asked, making a gun gesture with his forefinger and thumb. "Bang?"
"No. He died from liver failure." Bill turned away from the blinds, letting them swing and clash against each other. "The very thing that you were supposed to cure him from."
House swallowed and thought out his next words carefully. "He was fine when he left here-"
"I don't care. You were supposed to cure him. It's your fault he died," Bill said calmly, despite the serious subject matter.
"Well, I don't really understand why you're telling me this…," House let the sentence linger off into silence.
Bill smiled and got uncomfortably close to House's face. "You remember what I said before. I'll take away all the things you love until you have nothing."
House leaned back in his chair. "Th-that's not necessary."
Bill grabbed House by his collar by both hands. "I think it is. It's only fair after you took away from me the only thing I cared about. And after you have suffered all that you can handle, I promise to kill you."
House shivered nervously. He stranded against Bill's grasp of his collar and looked at the door behind him. It wasn't that far away.
But Bill's reflexes were quick. As soon as House started to move toward the door, Bill had him pinned against it.
"You think you can go anywhere?" Bill asked. "I'm not done with you yet." Bill threw House to the floor, and then stood over House.
"Joey was all I cared about and you took him away from me."
"I didn't take him, a faulty liver did," House said from the floor, as he struggled to get up.
House experienced blow in the stomach from Bill's foot. House grimaced in pain, but managed to drag himself on his elbows around the other side of the exam table. He pulled out his cell phone, and went through his small list of contacts. Cameron was alphabetically first, and for the sake of time, he pressed the button to call her. On the first ring though, House received another hit, this time in the back of his head. House dropped his phone as he held the back his head.
Bill stepped over House and picked up his phone. House watched as last resort for help was thrown against the wall and broke. "You're not going to be making any more calls," Bill said. Bill looked down at his side at the cane that had been abandoned from its user. He bent down and picked it up and examined it.
"You are not all that you seem Gregory House. You present yourself as a strong, independent person that can make it on his own. But you are pathetic," Bill spat with his back towards House.
As Bill was insulting him, House struggled to stand without causing too much commotion, but he was having trouble.
"You make other people's lives miserable to make you feel better. And the thing that is really confusing to me is that you fill your life with loneliness to fill the holes you have forced into your life. So you are the reason that you have pain in your life, and just because you hurt, you think that everyone else should too."
House managed to stand up right by using the exam table as support. When he tried to get to the door, Bill hit him hard in the back with his cane.
House fell, causing the stool to overturn with him. House counted as Bill hit House again, again, and again until he had lost count. Just when House thought that he could not take one more strike from the cane, Bill stopped.
"Are you ready to beg for mercy?" Bill asked from someone above.
"I thought…that...you weren't going to...kill me until later," House managed to say.
Bill twirled House's cane. "I'm not going to kill you now; that will come later. I just want you to feel some of the pain Joey had to go through." He hit House again. "Payback. Revenge. Vengeance for Joey. Whatever you want to call it. It's all the same to me."
The pain House had was unbearable. "Hurting me won't bring your brother back," House managed to choke.
"No. But it does make me feel better." Bill whacked House again, making a horrible thud. "And I get my revenge." Bill hit House in the thighs. House just laid there unable to
defend himself while he got whacked repetitively with his own cane that Bill twirled in his hand again.
When House thought he was going to pass out from the pain, Bill bent down to where House was on the floor. "Had enough?"
House looked at Bill but was unable to answer. So he settled for a death-glare.
"That's what I thought. When someone finds you I'll be long gone. But don't worry; you'll be seeing me soon. You think that you are alone now, but we'll see how alone you are when you have no one."
The Bill took House's head and slammed it against the exam table. He watched as House's eyes slowly closed. Then he stood up and laid House's cane next to his still body.
Bill looked around the room a final time, straightened his tie, and then left as though nothing had ever happened.