The next morning Wilson wakes up on the floor with a twitching pain in his back. At least they allowed him to go to the bathroom in the evening, so he was spared from wetting himself.
He groans and sits up. How long? How long will he be stuck here with no way out? He shivers when he remembers Brown's words: 'I can't let you go, I'm sorry,' and the cold voice behind his head.
This idiot brought him over here for nothing. He could be free if he wasn't in front of the hospital at Friday afternoon at the wrong moment. Shit. He doesn't know if he's scared, sad, or angry. Probably all of them.
House is awoken by the ringing of his phone. He blinks and groans when the noise makes his head ache. He doesn't know how he managed to get home the last night, he probably drank too much, and if this is Wilson...
"Yeah?" He growls into the phone.
"Greg? Is it you? It's Peggy."
Peggy? Do I know a Peggy?
"Huh?"
"Peggy Wilson. James gave me this number in case of an emergency," she continues.
James. Gave her the number. Peggy Wilson... Of course! It's Wilson's mum...Wait a moment, why is she calling me?
"Greg, are you listening to me?" She asks, unsure. Peggy has seen him only twice - both times at her son's wedding, and she doesn't know him well. Gregory House is one big question mark for her, but now she needs his help.
House drags himself up to a sitting position. "Yes, what's up?" If Wilson's mother is calling him, something must be wrong. Suddenly he's completely awake.
"I...I don't know. He should have called me yesterday. He calls me every Saturday." Typical for Wilson - following a schedule, House thinks.
"And?" He asks almost carefully.
"He didn't call me yesterday. I found this number and thought that he might be with you?" She speaks slowly, worry in her voice.
"No, he isn't there. Friday was the last time I saw him." He doesn't know what else to say. His hangover is killing him and he can't come up with anything better.
"Oh," she stammers. "He's not picking up his phone and when I called the hotel, they told me that they couldn't help."
This fits. Wilson wasn't picking up House's calls either. Is he in the hospital, working? Not likely. Even through his drunken mind, which makes a fog in front of his eyes, House can tell that something might be wrong. However...
"This is not my problem! What were you thinking? That I'll give him to you over the phone or what? I'm not his father, but you must know that already. Goodbye!" He snaps the phone shut and hates himself within a minute. He shouldn't have done that. Now Mrs. Wilson will call Cuddy and in a while there will be no peace in the world.
But now, he needs his Vicodin. He takes two pills at once and prays for the pain to go away from his head and from his tight.
Ok. Time to leave and look for his stupid friend. But if he finds Wilson sleeping in his bed or sitting in his office doing loads of paperwork, he won't be so nice anymore!
"What do you mean you can't let me in?" House is yelling at some poor young woman at the reception desk in the hotel.
"It's the rule sir. I can't let anybody in, unless its an emergency," she stammers. This man is the last thing she needs today.
"Yes, exactly. And in this case it is." House says and leaves her gaping behind him.
Once inside the elevator he has a bad feeling in his stomach. Wilson's probably alright, but then why didn't he answer the phone, even for his mother? The lift pings in the right floor and House steps outside. He looks both ways and sees a maid at one end of the corridor. Except for her, there's no one to be seen. It's Sunday and the hotel is quiet.
He makes his way towards Wilson's room. He has been there for several times, but never with such a bad feeling.
He knocks on the door and waits. There's no response, so he knocks again, harder this time. "Wilson! Open the damn door!" He shouts and earns a suspicious glare from the maid.
Nothing. House leans on the wall, thinking of possibilities how can he get in.
"Ok, you were right, I got it! Now open the damn door!" He tries again, and then he thinks for a moment. The maid seems to be his only chance.
"Hey you!" He growls at her when she steps out of one of the rooms. The young lady looks at him again and stops.
"Would you mind, if you get this room done a little bit early today?" He points at Wilson's door. She looks at him uncomprehendingly. "What?" She asks.
"I need to get in and you happen to be the only person around here who has the key card," his glance is cutting into her.
"I can't let you in. It's a private room," she answers stupidly.
"Oh, really?" House asks dramatically. "Maybe that's the point why I need to get in," his eyes are still piercing her.
"I said I can't let you!"
"I'm not asking you to let me. Just do your duty and open the room, that's the whole deal. I won't say anything."
"No sir, and I think maybe you should leave." She turns around, making her way to another room. House frowns.
"You don't do it and I'll tell your boss you're smoking at work in the rooms!" He shouts at her, making sure that she is listening. She stops and turns again, facing him.
"How...?" She looks humbled.
"For one, you have a lighter on your trolley, at second, I saw a pack of cigarettes in your pocket. And finally, almost every maid smokes in the rooms." He pauses and glares at her.
She shakes her head in pure disbelief, clenches her fingers around her trolley and makes her way slowly towards House.
"No one will know that, right?" She's eyeing him almost pleadingly.
"I'm a man of principles," House answers and watches how she runs the card through the reader.
Once the door is opened, he shoves her away, not listening to her complaints and limps quickly inside. He doesn't know if he's prepared for what he might see in there.
"Wilson!" He calls and looks round. However, the room is perfectly clean. The bed is made, sheets resting on top of it. The TV is off and Wilson's coat is gone and so is his suitcase. After one quick glance into the bathroom House knows that the room is definitely empty. He stops in his tracks as if he wants to get some answers.
The maid is still at the door. "Sir? Can I help you?"
"No forget it, I gotta go." House leaves her behind, disbelief still in her eyes. Strange man, she thinks but continues calmly in her work.
House lets the elevator drop him down to the basement. If nothing else, he's going to see if Wilson's car is still there. This hotel has simple rules. Every room has its parking space and it has the same number as the room itself.
House gets to the right place and only sees an empty spot.
tbc...
Thank you for reading and commenting! Without you my writing would be useless!
