While waiting for the ambulance Wilson kept House in a half-sitting position to facilitate what breathing abilities the bleeding man had left. He felt House's hot blood soak his shirt and it chilled Wilson to the core. "Hang on, House! Help is on the way." He kept whispering it like a mantra. He hardly noticed the cops around, hardly noticed any commotion aside from the weakening pulse, the shallow, gurgling breathing of the thin man in his arms.
House was dying! Wilson had finally found him only to watch him bleed to death in his arms… worst of all was that he was totally helpless.
The paramedics had to gently pry House from Wilson's arms "Sir, we're taking over from here. We'll take you to a hospital. Sir?" they softly shook Wilson to see if he registered them at all, "Sir? Do you hear me?"
"What?" his eyes were glued on House.
"We'll be taking you to a hospital right now." the paramedic tried to make Wilson move but he stood and stared at the seemingly chaotic activities around House. A mobile defibrillator came to life, beeping as they began to shock House's body.
Nothing.
Again. Still nothing.
"C'mon Greg, you can do this!" Wilson whispered. One more try, then they would give up. House had one more chance, and only one. "DON'T YOU DIE, HOUSE!" Wilson yelled at the top of his lungs. The bleeding body flinched and somebody announced a pulse! Wilson fought for composure while he watched House being carried away, strapped to a stretcher.
"Take me to the same place!" Wilson demanded with sudden fierceness and moved on his own to the waiting ambulance.
His foot was rather quickly being restored. Suregery took less than an hour, then Wilson was allowed to hobble off on two crutches. The third metatarsal had to be supported by a titanium splint where the bullet had torn through his foot but the prognosis was very well: he would heal and aside from a bit of metal in his body nothing would remind him of the incident. Physically, that is.
At the moment, Wilson count's have cared less. All he wanted was to see House, but already the police-agents were there to ask him a shipload of questions. Wilson's faith in the authorities had never faltered, not even after Tritter's obsessive crusade. House had screwed up back then.
"So he'd been a doctor, you say?" the ruffled cop was jotting down notes in a small book. At least they now had an idea of who the guy in surgery was!
Wilson nodded "They… withdrew his license. He was having problems with his medication."
"Oh, he'd been a junkie already back then?"
"He was NO JUNKIE!" Wilson snapped angrily "He's in severe chronic pain. And it is perfectly normal to develop opiate-tolerance when taking such meds over a long period of time! He needed more than I could prescribe with good conscience."
"What a surprise, you've been his prescribing doctor?" the cop said that as if he's just discovered the dealer himself.
"Hey, what is this?" Wilson felt tired and rubbed his temples "You want to know the story, go and read the file. I can't fill you in about the present – I just met him an hour ago after YEARS." He was fed up with the cop's acid remarks. But this one here would not take orders from a civilian.
"Our guys found piles of medical instruments in that place. Seems your friend wasn't overly concerned about not having a license."
Wilson was hesitant. He did not like lying! But he also felt this silly loyalty to House and couldn't make himself harm House any more. "I don't know where you're taking this…" he finally said with great reluctance.
"Let's see… there's a doctor without a license, a dead body on a section-table, medical tools all over the place, scalpels, needles, transfusions, illegal narcotics, tons of bloodied clothes in the garbage outside. I'd say we're talking an illegal practice here. Not to mention the loads of drugs we've found."
"House had been an excellent doctor." Wilson insisted. "And you'll have to ask him yourself about what had happened, 'cause I sure have no clue, Sir."
"Just – what exactly were you doing there? Fill another prescription?"
Wilson balled his hand into a fist. "After Dr. House -"
"Mr. House." the cop corrected.
"Oh, no! He may not have a license at this moment, but he does have a medical degree and that cannot be taken from him!" Wilson would not allow further humiliation to be brought over House! He continued, "After DOCTOR House had been released from jail, he vanished. I've been looking for him ever since and now I literally stumbled across him. I… I couldn't let him disappear again."
"You will have to show up at the precinct to sign your testimonial, Dr. Wilson. And stay around, OK?" the cop handed Wilson his card and left.
"Not moving an inch, you bet." Muttered Wilson. He wouldn't leave town without House!