Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long, I've been really busy with work and studying for exams. I had one yesterday and I have another one tomorrow. Yikes. Good thing I find writing therapeutic and relaxing before bed, aye? Sorry if House seems a bit out of character but, yeah, that's just how he's gonna be :) Thanks again to Alicia for beta.
Disclaimer: I own the characters you haven't heard of before. Anyone who's on TV is well, not mine.
XxXxXxXxX
House followed the nurse into an exam room, collapsing heavily onto a chair and pulling a Vicodin from his pocket.
"I'll get a doctor and a psychiatrist here as soon as possible," the woman told him, scribbling a few things down on her clipboard before passing it to House. He nodded in response, looking tiredly down at the papers in front of him. "Do you want someone to tend to your hand as well?" she asked. House looked down at his fingers, flexing them and trying to suppress the groan that wanted to escape from his lips.
"It's just bruised, it'll be fine," House answered.
"Alright, can you fill out those forms please?" the nurse queried. House nodded wearily, watching as she walked back out of the room. He glanced down at the papers in front of him, groaning when he saw that they were almost exactly the same as the ones at Princeton-Plainsborough.
"Do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to fill these out?" he asked his boss who was still seated in the wheelchair next to him. As expected, she gave no response. "Alright. Name: Lisa Anne Cuddy. Your middle name is Anne, isn't it? Well, it is now," he mumbled, scribbling on the paper. "Date of birth...damnit, it's the twelfth of March, right? And you were born in 1967 which makes your age 39...I think. How the hell should I know?! You know what, you're going to have me as your emergency contact mainly because I don't know your parent's address and I hope to God that your sister's name is Cara and not Cathy," House rambled. He filled in as much as he knew before becoming frustrated and tossing the papers aside. "I have no idea why they need to know that you're allergic to cantaloupe," he grumbled, limping over to one of the cabinets to get a suture kit and the various things he would need to do a blood test.
As he came back to her he winced at the bruises forming on her arms. He hated the fact that his hands shook as he tied the elastic around her arm more gently than he normally would have. Shaking his head we went back to the task at hand, trying to stifle the pain the he was feeling, not only in his leg, but in his chest as well. He slid the needle into her vein, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. Filling the tourniquet he pulled the needle back out, pressing a cotton ball to the puncture mark before covering it with a bandage. He labelled the vial before tossing it on the counter, then looked at the diminutive form of his boss once again. He sighed, brushing the hair from her face to get a better look at the wound on her cheek. It was longer than he would have liked, nearly two inches, and there was still a small amount of blood trickling down her face.
House swore as another pang of concern shot through his chest. He couldn't believe that someone had had the audacity to do something like that to a woman like Cuddy. He cleaned the offensive wound carefully, suturing it with a touch so gentle that no one would believe that he had done it – not even Wilson. He sat back in his chair, tossing his gloves in the trash can and popping a Vicodin just as the door clicked open.
XxXxXxXxX
Two doctors and a nurse walked into the exam room. The female doctor carried a notepad, her hair pulled back off her neck. The male looked to be about half a decade younger than House and seemed to have the same caring eyes as Wilson.
"Did you put those stitches in yourself?!" the male demanded.
"Oh calm down Erik, he's a board certified physician," the blonde said. "Greg House, this is Erik Phelps." House gingerly shook the male doctor's hand, wincing at the movement that the action caused to his bruised knuckles. The nurse fidgeted, going over to the cupboard to get a few things.
"I didn't know you were working tonight, Jenny," House said.
"Jonathan is on a business trip so I figured I could work later shifts," Jenny answered. She and House had grown up together, their fathers being in the same military outfit. House nodded, his eyes going back to Cuddy.
"What happened to her, Doctor House?" Phelps asked.
"The guy she was on a date with attacked her. I don't think he raped her but... I don't know what happened before I got there," House explained.
"Linda, can you get a rape kit please? And get me a needle to draw some blood. We'll need to run a tox screen for date rape drugs," Phelps said.
"Oh, um, I drew some blood already," House muttered, pointing to the vials on the counter. Phelps smiled.
"Greg, let me take a look at your hand while Erik and Linda take care of your friend," Jenny said. House glared at her, noticing the calm voice she was using, almost as if he was a child.
"I'm not going into shock Jenny," he snapped. The blonde rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Get your ass over here Greg. I wasn't to make sure you didn't screw up your hand," she said, her voice firm like a military officer's. House wheeled his chair over to her, glancing back at Phelps and Linda who were getting Cuddy up onto the exam table and prepping her for her examination. "Watch out Greg, I can feel you starting to care," Jenny teased, trying to get House to stray from his usually emotionally closed self.
"Shut up, Jen," House said. Jenny nodded, gently feeling the bones in his hand for breaks. He grimaced as she touched a particularly tender spot. "Are you still qualified to do this? You're a shrink Hen, not an orthopaedic surgeon," he snapped. Jenny rolled her eyes, pressing on the tender spot again just to annoy him. House hissed out a breath, glaring daggers at her.
"I still know how to treat physical injuries; I went to med school just like you! Although I did my entire degree at John Hopkins, unlike someone I know," Jenny retorted, her green eyes still staring into his blue ones. "Nothing is broken, you just need to be careful not to aggravate the bruises too much," she said after a moment. House jumped at the sound of latex gloved being snapped off. Turning around he saw Linda moving Cuddy's feet from the stirrups as Phelps moved across the room.
"No signs of penetration or seminal fluid. I must say, Dr. House, your impeccable timing probably saved her life," Phelps said quietly. "Dr. Chapman, I'm done here. I'll be over at the nurse's station writing up my report. Dr. House, while Dr. Chapman is performing her examination would you mind filling out a police report? Cassandra, the admin nurse called the police when you came in so there is an officer here who would like to take your statement and get a description of the man who attacked Ms. Cuddy," Phelps said. House nodded.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," he answered, ignoring Phelps and Linda's exit and turning his eyes back to Cuddy. Jenny was pulling up a chair, sitting down in front of the dark haired woman with her notebook open on her lap.
"What's her name?" Jenny asked.
"Cuddy," House responded as if it was the easiest thing in the world to know. Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Oh, um, Lisa," he corrected, getting up from his own chair and heading towards the door.
"Hi Lisa. My name is Jenny Chapman; I'm a psychiatrist at Centra State Medical Centre in Hightstown. Can you tell me what happened?" Jenny watched Cuddy's unchanging demeanour, sighing. She pulled the pen light from her pocket, flashing it in front of Cuddy's eyes. House swallowed hard, unable to stand the distant look Cuddy's eyes held for a moment longer. He limped from the room, going over to the male police officer who was in the waiting room.
"Hey, you're Dr. House, right? I'm Officer Nicholas Leason, are you the one who witnessed the attack?" the man asked. House nodded, lowering himself into a chair. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"I don't really know how it started," House began, rubbing a hand over his face. "But when I found them the guy had his hands all over Cuddy. He'd ripped her panties off and had her pinned against the wall. She was crying and didn't want to have anything to do with him. I pulled the guy off, broke his nose, and he ran. That's pretty much all there is to it. You'd have to ask her attending physician about the extent of her physical injuries," House answered. The officer nodded, scribbling things down in his notepad.
"Can you give me a physical description of this man?" Leason inquired.
"About six feet, dark slicked back hair, brown eyes. One hundred sixty pounds, maybe. Broken nose, possible broken jaw," House rambled, fingers tightening on his cane as the mental image of Cuddy's attacker came back into his mind.
"Alright, thank you Dr. House. I'll enter this information into the system and we'll get an APB out to all the hospitals in the area so that they can track him if he comes in to get his injuries taken care of," Leason said. He gave House a pat on the shoulder before going in search of Phelps for the physical exam reports. House stood again, popping a Vicodin as the pain rocketed through his leg. As he limped back to Cuddy's room he could hear Jenny talking softly to her.
"How long has she been like this?" Jenny asked the minute he walked in the door.
"Since I found her with that bastard," House snarled.
"And how long ago was that?"
"I don't know. An hour? Hour and a half maybe?" he replied. The blonde nodded, sighing as she scribbled a few things down before closing her notebook and resting her elbows on her knees.
"Greg, you and I both know there isn't a lot anyone can do to treat psychological shock. It's all supportive care. I can have her admitted till she comes out of this waking coma or I can send her home. She's going to need 24 hour care though due to her inability to care for herself. I would recommend that she stay here until she's mentally aware unless a doctor is going to be watching over her," Jenny said, her voice grave and serious. House fidgeted. It was one thing to have cared for her this much, but he wasn't sure if he could be around her when she was practically a rag doll. "Greg?" Jenny asked, poking him in the arm with the dull end of her pencil. House shook himself back to reality, sighing.
"I'll keep an eye on her. She wouldn't want to be locked in the loony bin," he said after a moment. Jenny's eyes softened, her playful sparkle coming back.
"Oh sweet Lord, you ARE going soft," she laughed, watching House glare at her before sobering. "It's not going to be a walk in the park to look after someone suffering from psychological shock, you know," she said.
"Just give me the instructions Jenny; I just want to get her out of this place."
"Alright. Where did the attack happen?"
"At a night club."
"Strobe lights and lasers?"
"Yeah..."
"Okay. Make sure you don't have any flashing lights or loud noises around her. Seeing or hearing these things could remind her of the attack and make her regress, possibly even develop a syndrome of amnesia almost like Korsakov's only without the malnutrition or alcoholism. Reminders when she's still in a fragile state like this could also push her into PTSD if you're not careful. When she first starts to come out of this state she may experience intense pain, anger or fear. She may well scream or cry or just run away from you. There have also been cases where the person comes back very slowly. Lisa may well develop an almost child-like speech pattern. She may only know a few words and be unable to truly express herself. You need to be extremely patient with her Greg. You really cannot let your temper take hold of you. I'm not saying this to scare you or make you think I'm being a bitch and try to change who you are, because I'm not Greg. The blunt truth is if you're not careful you could break that poor woman and effectively destroy the Lisa you know," Jenny was saying, having gotten up halfway through her instructions so that she was now leaning against the wall.
"I know the basics, Jen," House muttered, flexing his fingers against the handle of his cane.
"I know that you know, I'm just reiterating the info," Jenny replied, fixing her hairclip. "Lisa can't take care of herself Greg; you're the one who is going to be taking care of her." It was that moment that Phelps came back into the room.
XxXxXxXxX
A/N: Good? Bad? Indifferent? Lemme know! It'll help keep me sane while I frantically study for psychology, astronomy and linguistics. Next chapter will hopefully be up soon.
Thanks for reading.
