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Something was wrong.
Every muscle in Wilson's body ached. For a while he thought it was simply the couch he slept on, it wasn't like his bed but he had to throw it out.
Trembling fingers touched his sweating forehead as Wilson tried to go back to his paper work. It has been four months since the virus went out of control. As hope would have it, it seem it was dieing down and the government was doing their job to track down all the infected and dispose of them before it got out of hand. Slowly life was getting back to normal, people still feared going out onto the streets, some even scared to go outside.
But everything was going back to normal...
Closing his eyes, Wilson coughed, covering his mouth quickly. He must be getting sick. Sitting back, Wilson let his head slump to the side, his body trying to regain the energy it seemed to have lost. Four months, Wilson tried his best to keep a low profile. Which wasn't that hard. No one wanted to talk to him, Cuddy couldn't look him in his eyes nor could the old team reach out a reassuring hand. Not while House was still on the lose.
Wilson smiled grimly to himself. Cuddy was still trying to find her old co-worker, even the police was still determined. But they would never find him. No, Wilson will make sure of that. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the heel of his palms against his aching temples sighing. He didn't feel feverish, no, he felt oddly cold. He just needed to get a good night sleep in a real bed, maybe some cold medicine. He couldn't risk getting sick now, he still needed to stop by the morgue and pick up Houses dinner.
Pushing himself to stand, he started to gatherer his belongings. Looking to his watch, he pressed his lips. If he worked this out correctly, there should be no one in the morgue so he would be able to swipe something before anyone noticed. With a nod of his head, he began to shrug on his coat when something wet touched his cheek.
He stopped slowly, his coat slumped on his shoulders. The wetness trailed down along the line of his noise. That was strange, he didn't feel his eyes tear up. Maybe he was more tired then he thought. Wiping at his cheek, he smeared it away and with a glance, his jaw dropped.
Blood was smeared over his index and middle finger. He began to tremble, his eyes going wide. With a shake of his head, he turned and bolted to his desk, digging into his drawers. Objects fell on the floor, papers being torn in his rush to search for a mirror, he knew he had one. Finally he found his object and ripped it out from its home to let him see, to make sure.
He didn't want to look now. He held the mirror to his chest tightly, his body tightening. He was fine, he was just sick.
"I'm fine.... I'm fine.."
Closing his eyes, Wilson took a deep breath. Removing the mirror from his chest, he held it out to his face, his mind repeating, whispering. 'I'm fine...I'm fine..'
Opening his eyes, he stared at his own image. His lips giving a weak hopeful smile before his face cracked. He was crying.
Blood was trailing down from his eyes, the first warning sign.
He was infected.
Closing his eyes tightly, he let out a shout before throwing the mirror, hearing the ice breaking shatter as it connected to the wall. He was careful, how could this happen. He covered his face and yelled again. He was infected, He was infected!
"Wilson!"
The door slammed opened and Wilsons body jerked around. Foremen stood there wide eyed. "I heard you screaming, is everything okay? Did you hu-oh my god..."
Wilson quickly realized his mistake. Quickly he wiped at his face, but it was to late. Foremen started to back up, he had saw it. He saw the blood.
"Oh god Wilson..."
Covering his face Wilson ran for it, shoving himself past Foremen and the others in the hall. He needed to get away, he needed to get home before they tried to throw him into the padded cells down stairs. The same place they had put House.
"This can't be." Cuddy whispered.
Sitting slumped in her chair, her hand covering her mouth. She shock her head at what she was given. There was no way.
"Its Wilson.."
Cuddy looked up to the nurse who was showing her the grave news. Upon the lap top before her, she was watching the feed from the new security camras placed up in the morgue. For months body parts started to go missing at random and they could not track down who was doing it. Finally Cuddy gave the okay to place up the camras to see if they could catch the person red handed.
What she was given made her blood turn cold.
On the screen, she watched with horror as Wilson, her friend, the man who stopped talking to her for the past few months, walked into the cold room and begin his task. Wilson was stealing body parts, Wilson was the one stealing the blood bags. Why was he doing this.
"Cuddy!"
She looked up when her door was slammed open. She frowned when it was Foremen, his eyes wide and worried. Two police men were tagging along behind him, making her heart drop. "Foremen, whats going on?"
"Cuddy....Wilson's been infected."
He had to get home. He had to get home.
His chest began to tight, it was getting hard to breath. He managed to make it to his car before he began to cough up blood. The next sign. He was going to change, he was going to blood thirsty and try to kill. Bloody tears fell faster as he jumped into the drivers seat and speed off, needing to reach home. He needed House, he needed to get home!
Slamming on the brakes, he smiled happily at the sight of his home. He'll be okay, just as long as He gets inside. Slamming the car door, he rushed across the side walk and up the steps and was about the unlock the door when sirens went off. Glancing over his shoulder slowly, he watched as police cars came racing out of no where, speeding down the street only to slam to a stop before him.
His hands gripped the handle tightly as he began to struggle. They found out about him, they were going to take him away. "House!" He shouted, he couldn't leave him alone. The lock popped and he got it open at the same time the police rushed out.
"Freeze!"
He stopped in the door way, his keys dropped from his fingers. Turning around slowly, he watched as police men lined up on the side walk, their guns pointed at him. Soon a black van pulled out, letting masked men, the government... They started to file out. They were going to take him away.
"Dr. Wilson you are infected, we need to take you to the isolation chambers now!"
He shock his head, his hands gripping the door frame. He couldn't leave, not while House was inside. "N-No, you're wrong. I'm fine. Just a little sick, thats it."
"Dr. Wilson." Another voice called out, "We have information that you are hiding the infected Greg House in your home. You must remove yourself from the door so we may dispose of him."
"No!" He shouted, his grip tightening. "You can't have him! He's still human!"
"Dr. Wilson if you do not cooperate with us we will be force to shoot!"
"Just leave us alone." He begged quietly. Looking to the frame slowly, tears began to fall faster at the sight of his hands. His tan skin was gray, showing the blue veins of his blood pulsing. He had one more change before he became wild. He needed to get inside. With a turn, he pushed but pain sliced threw his right thigh making him cry out.
Falling to the ground, Wilson trembled and cried out, his hands gripping his thigh. A bullet went right threw his flesh and muscle. They shot him... He could hear their foot steps, they were going to take him away and they were going to take House and kill him.
They began to swarm in when a sudden high pitch roar stopped them all in their tracks. Police men backed away from the steps Wilson laid by while the swat team jumped.
"It came from inside the building." One of the officers whispered. They all staied quickly, aside from Wilson choking hic cups of pain and tears. Then again, they heard it, a scream, a roar so deep and so bone chilling, it could shatter the windows it came from behind. They heard a loud 'thunk' like someone was struggling, something was being ripped apart.
"It looks like Greg is inside."
An officer pointed and called out an command, "Get Dr. Wilson away from the door and let the Swat team in, who knows what shame that creatures in!"
An office nodded and rushed forward, going up the steps to grab Wilson and drag him back. He had made it to Wilsons side and grabbed his arm when a solid desk table was thrown at him, cracking him back onto the pavement, Knocking him out cold.
Police shouted and backed away as yelling began to rise.
Wilson looked up slowly, his body trembling. He could feel it, his heart was starting to speed up. The fourth sigh was coming. Soon his eyes would mist and he could lose his speech. He looked back into his home and a laugh of pure relief came from him. Just down the hall, he saw him.
House stood panting, his blue lips a snarl. Rolling his head a little, he roared out again at the sight of Wilson on the floor. The metal collar around his throat still lingered but the bolts were dangling along the floor. House had ripped them from the very wall at the sound of Wilson's scream on pain.
Rushing forward, House pounced onto Wilson, his body covering the mans own, like a tiger to its cub. House snarled and growled at the officers who stared at him bewildered.
"Get your aim ready and fire when I call." An officer shouted but another voice ripped out.
"Dont shoot them!"
Cuddy rushed forward, grabbing the main officer by his arm. "Dont shot them! Let me take them back to my hospital, I was just told there a study that could cure them, let me test them!"
"Get this women out from here!" He ordered but Cuddy only held on. "Dont shot them!" She begged. "Their good doctors!"
But her plea fell to deaf ears. She kicked and screamed when an officer wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, pulling her from the lead officer.
"Please dont! House! Wilson!!"
House shock his head in the air in a huff, keeping his body crouched over his lovers. His misted blue eyes narrowing, drools dripping off his jaw. A hand touched his arm and he snapped at the air in a warning before glancing down, seeing Wilson struggling to sit up. Slowly, House sat up and touched his friend, his dirt covered fingers touching the sweat cover brow of Wilson's face.
Wilson looked up to him with a sad smile, his blood covered fingers reaching, touching his lovers cheek, feeling the tingles of his bread. "House.."
House bowed his head a little, seeing those brown orbs, those dark pools of bark begin to fade and swirl into white. A scent, so strong and familiar touched his nose and he only growled and smiled. Bowing his head, House brushed his forehead against Wilson's own. Cold skin upon cold skin.
He purred out, his cheek pressing against Wilsons own, and the reply made House huff an open mouth smile. Wilson purred back. Rising his head up, House watched as Wilson looked around with his new eyes, his once pink lips now blue parting in his pants. Those eyes settled on House again and he smiled. Reaching up, those fingers sank into Houses hair, holding him close, pressing their foreheads together, "Hooouuusssseess..." He slurred breathlessly, making the other growl in approval.
"Willlsssoonnnaa...."
"Shot them both. Its to late."
Cuddy screamed out as the officers aimed their guns up. House's head snapped up and looked and with a roar, he gathered Wilson into his arms and took off back into the building. Bullets rang out as the police men fired but it was to late to get them in the open. They had disappeared behind the solid bricks.
"Move! Get inside! Burn the place down if you have too! Just don't let them escape!"
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