TITLE: Contingency
AUTHOR: Captain Divine
SUMMARY: Three months after the incident, Wilson has finally fallen into the routine of taking care of House.
PAIRINGS: House/Wilson
SPOILERS: It's not really a spoiler, but you need to know who the Arnello brothers are from 1.15 "Mob Rules"
DISCLAIMER: These characters are just my playthings. I'll put them back when I'm done.
A/N: I'M SORRY I LIED! I said I was going to finish about two weeks ago? Sorry. ;; Had no time. Here's chapter four, chapter five won't be far off (that will be the end). Read and Review, please. PS: THE HOUSE SEASON 3 FINALE WAS QUITE DISAPPOINTING.

Wilson let the dial tone resonate in his ears. 'He didn't have to do that' he repeated in his mind, confused. He didn't have to do what? He wracked his brain, thinking of anything that would get House into trouble. Illegal Vicodin purchase? No, then the feds would be all over it. Hookers? That makes no sense.

Wilson came up with nothing. He jumped at the sudden sound of a voice in his ear, but almost relaxed when he realised that it was only the phone telling him to hang up or make another call. He softly placed the phone back into the cradle, and felt genuine fear settle into his body.

Wilson got up, grabbed House's long-deserted keys from the back of the desk drawer, locked the door, re-checked the deadbolt, and fastened the chain. He pulled down the shades to the windows and went in to check on House.

He pushed open the door softly, but House wasn't sleeping. Wilson watched House's hands firmly grasp his right thigh then rub hard. Vicodin, Wilson remembered, going off to the kitchen. After it happened, psychiatrists had warned him about House's chance of suicide, and Wilson had kept his Vicodin somewhere safe.

Wilson returned with a glass of water and a pill, and kneeled beside House's side of the bed. "House?" he whispered, holding out the pill. "I know it hurts. Take thi–"

"Drop it."

The voice was deep and forceful, basted in a thick New York accent. Wilson, more out of surprise than of obedience, dropped the glass, and it bounced loudly on the hardwood floor, cracking slightly. He looked around, searching for the voice in the shadows, and found him leaning on the other side of the door.

"Who are you?" Wilson found the words deep in his throat.

Wilson could detect a playful tone in his voice as he spoke, "You must be James Wilson. Well, Jimmy, you can call me Vinnie. Now, Jimmy, be a good boy and I won't have to kill you. Although," Vinnie laughed. "I just may do that anyway."

Wilson began to stand up slowly, but stopped halfway when he heard the cock of the gun. "Come over here," Vinnie ordered. Wilson obeyed quickly, and Vinnie shut the door to the bedroom, engulfing them in darkness. "Good. Sit down against the door. Put your hands behind your head and face the bed."

Wilson, shaking, did as he was told, but refused to take his eyes off House. Vinnie must have noticed somehow, because he laughed again, roughly tying Wilson's hands behind him to the dresser. He could feel the harsh rope slice into his skin and the blood that trickled out, warm and fast. Wilson was about to scream when Vinnie tied a gag around his mouth, and Wilson choked on it. "Watch this," Vinnie hissed, turning on the light. He sauntered to House's side of the bed and roughly grabbed a tuft of House's hair.

And then he hurt him.

Wilson, trapped against the bureau, tried to scream as he watched House be broken. The muffled cries did nothing to stop Vinnie, and Wilson eventually settled for simply crying, unable to tear his eyes away, realising that he was useless.

Vinnie was relentless. He scratched and tore, ripped and violated, and destroyed any shred of dignity House had left. Wilson watched him grate House's body with knives, strategically missing all the major arteries. "You're lucky that when I'm done with you," Vinnie had hissed once. "That you've got your doctor friend to save you."

But what hurt Wilson the most, more than seeing the man that he loved ruined before him, was that House never, not once, took his eyes off Wilson. His blue, blank eyes stared at Wilson, but they did not seem to plea for aid.

They seemed to be apologising.

And as the tears finally broke from House's eyes as he was raped, again and again, Wilson closed his eyes and wept silently to himself, not wanting to know what House was apologising for.

Through the screams and the moans and the guttural sounds of choking, Wilson heard those six words again. "You didn't have to, you know," Vinnie cooed, voice sickly sweet and drenched with hate. "All of this, you could have avoided."

Wilson opened his eyes and saw House mouthing words, Vinnie's hands still latched around his neck. "Say it out loud, bitch!" he ordered.

House tried to shake his head, but received another slash of the knife. Wilson saw House's mouth open again, and found himself unwillingly happy to hear House's voice again. "I didn't have to ignore you," he coughed. "I could have told them and avoided this all. They killed Alex because I wouldn't save him."

Wilson noted that it all sounded so rehearsed, so formulated. And even though Wilson heard House's voice speak the words, but he knew that House wasn't really saying them.

"But I won't repay you," House said suddenly. His voice was a bit more forceful, a bit more determined. "I wont give you anything."

"You don't need to give us anything anymore, Greg," Vinnie spat maliciously. His head spun around, and Wilson stared right into his eyes. "Because I'm going to take it."

And that's when Wilson saw the gun.

The muzzle was positioned squarely on the back of House's head. "Why did you let them kill Alex?" Vinnie asked, anger resurfacing in his voice. House did not respond, and the gun was cocked.

Wilson tried to yell, but the gag stopped him again. Someone has to come, he thought to himself. Someone will come.

"You knew that they'd ruin him. They'd bring him so far down that there was no way up. You knew all of that." Vinnie spoke in broken sentences, loathing and a tearful recount of his misery dominating his tone. "I know that Alex didn't have to deal with them. But you didn't have to get involved."

Wilson stopped trying to interrupt and settled into listening. "Alex was fucked up before I met him, I know that. He screwed with the mob and they screwed back. But you knew that, Greg. And you knew what they'd do to him if you didn't save him. I confided in you, 'Dr. House'," Vinnie spat the name as if it were poison on his tongue. "You were on the good side of the Arnello family. They had influence. It's simple math, you could have saved him! But you didn't, Greg, and you let him disappear."

Wilson saw Vinnie's hands shake as he repositioned them on the gun, and tensed as he did so. Vinnie coughed loudly before yelling again. "All you had to do was care a little. Say something. Give any sort of thought to the other people in the world, and maybe I'd still have my Alex. I'd still have the only person I loved. Lucky for both of us, I won't have to do this anymore, because your final payment is in this room right now. And because you wouldn't save the man that I loved, I'm going to take yours ."

Wilson barely had time to blink before the bullet entered his chest.

Review, please. The final chapter will come soon.