ABSOLUTE FEAR

Part One

Over the next few days, Wilson was slowly starting to feel better. House and his team were taking extra-good care of their friend. More so House, Wilson noticed. The others would come in to take his temperature and check his vitals and Morphine level then leave, but House was in his room almost every minute. He even fed Wilson his meals since Wilson's hands were still bandaged. This was surprising. It was the sort of thing that House would make his team members do. Then again, House wasn't about to run and hide from his best friend.

"I'm drawing the line at sponge baths," House told Wilson one day, as he fed him his lunch. Wilson laughed and a smirk played at the corner of House's lips. He was glad that House was there, just being himself. It made Wilson feel normal again. He didn't mind when the others came in to say hi, especially when both Cameron and Cuddy would wish him well with a kiss on the cheek everyday. It made Wilson realize just how close he was to everyone. Especially House.

It wasn't long before Wilson regained part of his strength and found his voice. Finally, he could ask the questions that had been burning inside him since the day he woke-up there.

"How… how did you find me?" Wilson asked House, as he swallowed the last bit of applesauce that House fed him.

"I didn't." House replied, tossing the empty applesauce container into the nearby trashcan. "We were all running around here like chickens with our heads cut-off when you didn't show up for work." House explained. "You should really call the next time you're going to be gone for so long. I nearly ran out of Vicodin, you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Wilson smiled at House's sarcasm. "But who was it? Who found me?"

House stood up and limped over to the other side of the bed to check the Morphine levels again.

"Some woman, out walking her dog," said House. "Well, it was the dog who actually found you. She let Rover off of his leash and I guess he sniffed you out and ran into the field where you were left."

"Was I… dead?" Wilson asked, carefully. He was certain that he had to have been dead at some point.

"Almost," House answered. "When you were brought in here, you were out cold and you barely had a pulse. You're damn lucky, Wilson. Another few hours in that field and you would have been dead."

Wilson knew he was lucky. He also remembered that Marissa hadn't been so lucky. Tears formed in his eyes. He hadn't told anyone the entire story of what had happened to him. It was so difficult to talk about.

"I don't think they found your girlfriend yet," House mentioned and the tears fell from Wilson's eyes. He wiped then away with a bandaged hand.

"She's dead, House," Wilson said, a sob escaping his lips. "They killed her. They killed her right in front of me."

House's expression didn't change, but he had a sympathetic look in his brilliant blue eyes. He wasn't good at the whole sympathy thing, even if it was for his best friend.

"Well, try not to worry too much," House said, leaning on his cane sideways. "Given your past history with women… well, I'm sure there will be others."

Wilson was not the least bit worried about meeting other women at the moment and probably wouldn't be for a long time, but he was grateful for House's semi-supportive words.

Just then, Robert Chase knocked on the door and then peeked his head inside. House spun around to face him.

"The officer is here to speak to Dr. Wilson," Chase announced. His accent seemed a lot stronger than usual but Wilson decided it was only because he hadn't heard it in a long time.

"You moron!" House shouted at Chase. "I told you, no cops!"

Chase was about to speak, but the officer stepped forward into the room.

"Sir, it's important that we speak to Dr. Wilson right away," she explained. "While the incident is still fresh in his mind."

"Incident?" House repeated in disbelief. "Incident? Is that all it is to you? He was practically dead when they found him! I don't call that an incident. I call that a crime!"

"We know that, sir." said the officer. "That's why we have to talk to him. So we can catch the person or people who did this."

Wilson's heart sank and he felt scared again. So, Glenn and Dave were still out there. He hoped they would be caught before they put someone else through what Wilson had experienced.

"So if you'll excuse us," the officer said, raising her voice.

"No!" Wilson called out as House and Chase began to leave, House with a scowl on his face. "Dr. House stays. He needs to know exactly what happened to me in order to properly treat my injuries.

The officer reluctantly agreed. House sat next to Wilson on a chair, leaned over and whispered, "Nice one!" Wilson beamed.

"Dr. Wilson, I'm Officer Linda Gables," she held out her hand and Wilson showed her his bandaged ones. Looking slightly flustered, she pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled something down on her notepad.

"I want you to tell me everything," Gables emphasized. "From the beginning. Every small detail. You never know how important it could be to our investigation."

Wilson nodded and proceeded to tell Gables everything that had happened to him from the time he arrived at Marissa's house until he woke up in the hospital. House listened intently, in complete disbelief of all that Wilson had gone through. He could hardly believe what his friend has endured and lived to tell. He was slightly impressed.

By the time Wilson had finished, he was sobbing uncontrollably and the tears were flowing. It was heart wrenching to remember and go through it all again. Plus, with Marissa being dead and missing, it was even harder.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about the van?" Gables asked.

"All I can remember is that it was black and looked brand new." said Wilson.

"What about the men who abducted you?" Gables pressed him. "You only know for sure that there names are Glenn and Dave?"

"Yes," Wilson insisted. "Glenn was about six foot two and kind of thin. Dave was shorter and stockier."

Gables wrote down the information. "Anything else?"

"Only that this Glenn guy seemed to be the ringleader. And Marissa knew him. He was her ex-boyfriend before me. And she told me that he had turned violent towards her and that is why she broke things off with him,"

Gables wrote down what Wilson said. Wilson was unable to sign the statement so House, seeing as he was sitting there the whole time, signed it for him. Gables then gave each of them her business card, told them she'd call them with any news and for Wilson to call her if he remembered anything else, then left. House threw the card in the garbage. Wilson put his on the bedside table.

"Did you sign as Greg House or James Wilson?" Wilson inquired, since House had forged Wilson's name before on his prescription pad.

"As you, of course," House replied, but Wilson knew he was kidding. "I do have experience at that. Plus, I don't think Gables is half as anal as Tritter was."

They fell silent for a moment, House trying to envision the torture Wilson had described and Wilson going back over every detail in his mind. That was when he remembered something he had not yet asked House.

"House?"

"Yea?"

Wilson searched for words. "Is everything… okay? He motioned towards his midsection. "You know… everything?"

House grinned, understanding. Wilson flushed.

"He's bruised up some, but Mr. Happy is in perfect condition, otherwise. He popped up to say hello this morning," he said, enjoying Wilson's embarrasment. "But I wouldn't play with him just yet. He needs his beauty sleep."

Wilson blushed and looked away.

"Good thing we bandaged your hands-up." House added. "Or we may have to use restraints."

"I'm sure I'm old enough to resist the temptation," Wilson said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh really?" House raised his eyebrows. "Tell me that a week from now."

He left the room and Wilson tried to go to sleep. If it wasn't for the morphine, he suspected he wouldn't have slept at all. He kept having nightmares and visions of Marissa's dead body still missing. And now he had something else on his mind. Would Glenn and Dave ever be caught?

A few weeks later, Wilson was feeling great. Well, at least physically. His bruises and cuts were healing well and he finally got to take the bandages off of his hands. Luckily, Wilson was left handed and his kidnappers had done the most damage to his right hand and arm. So he had to keep that arm in a sling, while he exercised his left hand and fingers. Glenn had only stepped on them, so they weren't too badly damaged. His right hand and fingers were a work in progress, though.

Wilson was also allowed out of bed. But because he'd had a bullet removed from his leg and he was still a bit shaky, he had to walk with a cane. House just about split his gut when Wilson hobbled into the room to see what he and his team were working on.

"Dr. Wilson, you look… good." said Cameron, shooting House a dirty look.

"How are you feeling?" asked Foreman, ignoring House.

Before Wilson could answer, House had stopped laughing and sat down with his team as they all stared at Wilson.

"How ironic!" House threw back his head dramatically. "Yes, pray tell us, Wilson old-boy, how does it feel to be a cripple? How does it feel to be just - like - me?" The words rolled off his tongue like water down a spout.

"I won't be crippled forever," said Wilson, holding his head up high. It wasn't unlike House to have a good laugh at his expense. "This is only temporary."

"Too bad, really," House pretended to pout. He got up and stood next to Wilson. "I mean, don't we look cute together?"

Wilson struck a pose with his cane that was so incredibly House-like, the rest of the team cracked-up. House looked at Wilson's pose.

"I don't look a thing like that!" he exclaimed. "For one thing, the expression is all wrong." He scratched his chin, thoughtfully. "Well, I guess nobody can perfectly replicate the hotness that is me."

Everyone groaned.

"So what are you guys working on?" Wilson inquired, changing the subject. "Anything interesting?"

"If you find a botched circumcision interesting, then yea," House answered, matter-of-factly.

"Aside from that, nothing," Chase said. "The most exciting thing that's happened here so far is you."

"And House tells us you get to go home tomorrow!" Cameron expressed, excited.

"Aw, I wanted to tell him." House whined.

Wilson smiled brightly, with happiness.

"It will be so great to sleep in my own bed again." Wilson sighed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" House demanded as he popped two Vicodin into his mouth and swallowed them with little effort. "You live in a damn hotel!"

"Well," said Wilson, shrugging. "I'm used to it. So it is like my own bed."

"Did you know there's an outbreak of bedbugs?" House asked. "They find them in hotel room beds, underneath the mattresses. You're not going back there. You're coming straight home with me."

Everyone looked at House in surprise. This had nothing to do with bedbugs. He was worried about Wilson and didn't want him to be alone.

"Come on now, nobody wants bedbugs brought to the hospital," said House. "You know they can travel in pant seams."

Wilson nodded at his friend in acceptance. As he left the room, he mouthed a "thank-you" to House and got a rare smile from him.

House decided that Wilson should rest for two more weeks. By that time, he'd be able to walk without the cane, House told him.

"I thought you liked being twins." Wilson remarked.

"Nah, I can't have you cramping my style." House declared, smirking.

Wilson could only shake his head. But he was enjoying himself at House's place.They watched Steve McQueen movies all night, accompanied by beer and pizza, watched reruns of 24 and The L Word and then a large variety of other lame shows that they laughed and poked fun at. They even came across a few old episodes of The O.C. and House made a comment that Peter Gallagher's eyebrows made Wilson's look pretty. It was like old times.

Even though they were both tired, neither of them barely got any sleep for the first little while. Wilson was having awful nightmares and would sometimes wake-up screaming. House would groan, get out of bed, prepare a warm cup of milk for Wilson and sit with him until he calmed down. He had given him a sleeping pill every night, but they didn't seem to be helping. He would wake-up anyway. Sometimes from nightmares, sometimes from a dripping tap in the washroom or kitchen that reminded Wilson of the old barn he had been locked in. House was starting to tire of having to go around the house every night before bed, tightening dripping taps. But there was no way that he was going to make Wilson go back to that old, boring and lonely hotel room. As much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed having Wilson over. He didn't feel so bored and alone.

Right about the time Wilson was ready to go back to work, the nightmares became fewer and further between. They were both relieved, because Wilson had thought seriously about going to a shrink and House had thought seriously about suggesting it.. But he didn't and thankfully, Wilson would be fine.

House awoke Monday morning to the sound of a blow-dryer. Wilson, no doubt, drying his hair, getting ready for his first day back at PPTH. He was actually looking forward to it.

House grunted, got out of bed and downed two Vicodin with a stale glass of water on his night table. Slipping on his bathrobe over his boxers, he limped into the room where Wilson was drying his hair in front of a mirror, where he always had before.

"Did I wake you?" Wilson asked and House grunted in reply. It was obvious that House was in a foul mood. Being woken-up by Wilson screaming in fear was one thing -- being woken-up by Wilson blow-drying his hair was another.

"There's a surprise for you in the kitchen." Wilson said.

"I HATE surprises!" House barked at him, but went into the kitchen anyway. Wilson shut the blow dryer off just in time to hear House say, "I LOVE surprises!"

Wilson had taken the liberty of getting up earlier than usual that morning to make pancakes for House. He remembered how much he loved them and he had already taken such good care of him, it was the only way Wilson could think of to thank him. He peeked into the kitchen and saw House enjoying an overly large stack of pancakes, one mouthful at a time, moaning in joy with every satisfying swallow.

Wilson had already eaten his share, which had been a much smaller stack. He went into the washroom to get dressed and as he was doing up his belt, he noticed that he had to buckle it up two holes tighter than before. He'd obviously lost a lot of weight. He observed himself in the mirror, turning this way and that. He did look a lot thinner. His right eye was still a bit red and puffy, but hardly noticeable. He moved a lock of hair away from his ear and noticed that the scar from the cut was still there. His other cuts had fully healed without leaving any permanent scars, but this one hadn't. You couldn't see it. Wilson's hair covered it completely. He decided that he would just leave it, even though he knew he could get free plastic surgery to remove it. It would be a reminder. Not that he would ever forget what had happened to him, but the scar seemed to hold a sort-of sentimental value. It would somehow keep Marissa's spirit alive . With this mark, Wilson wouldn't feel like she had died in vain.

Wilson straightened his tie and went into the kitchen. House was putting his dishes in the sink. Wilson figured he would be the one who'd have to wash them later, but he tried not to let it bother him.

"Well, now to dig up something for lunch later," said House, opening the refrigerator door. Wilson smiled. He had taken care of that as well.

"I don't know how you can still think of food after polishing off those pancakes." Wilson said.

"I'm a growing boy," he declared. "I need my nourishment."

Surprised, House pulled out two neatly wrapped packages from the fridge, each containing two plastic containers and a bottle of juice. One was labeled "Greg" and the other, "James". Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for House's reaction.

"Well Wilson, now I'm just going to have to marry you!" House joked as another rare smile spread across his face. Wilson laughed and said, "You're welcome. House."

Wilson was glad he got his vehicle back. He dreaded taking the bus and he was in no condition to climb onto House's motorcycle and get to the hospital that way.

Once there, he headed to the Oncology Department and stepped into his office, slipping on his lab coat. It didn't look much like his office anymore. Everywhere, on every table and chair, there were plants, flowers, teddy bears, balloons and "get well soon" cards. Wilson managed to move most of it to one side of his office, tying some of the balloons to his chair and arranging a few cards and teddy bears on his desk. Wilson had a big pile of file folders on his desk which meant only one thing: Paperwork, and a lot of it. He checked his appointment book and saw that he had no patients for at least a week.

Cuddy must've taken the liberty to reschedule them, he thought, disappointed. He wanted some other human contact besides House. He wanted to write on his prescription pad for someone other than House. And did Cuddy actually think that it would take him a whole week to catch-up on paperwork? Wilson decided to go and speak to her about it.

On his way to Cuddy's office, he caught a glimpse of House and Chase in an examination room with a patient. He slowed down so he could hear part of the conversation. House looked bored. Chase looked annoyed.

"When did the headaches start?" Chase inquired. When the patient answered, Wilson gasped. And then, out of absolute fear, he urinated right there on the spot. The front of his pants were soaked. He knew that horrible voice anywhere. It was Glenn!

End of Part One

Author's Note: Sorry if this part was a little boring. But there were things that had to be said and explained. The next part will be much more exciting, I promise! Please keep your reviews coming! They make me smile!