Chapter 10

Cuddy had been authoritative when she approached the paramedic crew taking a well-deserved break beside their newly stocked rig. She briefed them of the situation, told them to radio the call in and demanded that they be ready to leave in two minutes. Meanwhile, Wilson had contacted the rescue crew still at the scene and explained the circumstances. He told them to track down the team that had located and removed the girl from the site, so they could track down House.

Now that they were in the ambulance, rushing to the scene of the Factory collapse for the second time that day, Cuddy had started the tremble. When the ambulance first set off she had checked and rechecked supplies, tried to predict all outcomes and prepare for any medical emergency, until there was nothing left to check. When there was nothing left to do she sat, full of nervous energy. She kept her face calm, but constantly fidgeted with the phone in her hand, House's phone. The last call displayed was Cuddy's own number; she was the last person to talk to him. She wished she could somehow crawl through the phone into that conversation: where he was safe, where his health was certain, where Cuddy could talk to him. Her head throbbed painfully in time with the wail of the ambulance sirens. She sighed and rubbed her head, wincing as she caught the painful cut just below her hairline. This whole night was a disaster. Multiple casualties filled up her ER and OR, beds were at a premium. Two were injured Doctors, herself included. Now House trapped somewhere underground. She felt so useless, it was not a feeling she was used to. The ambulance was ready, its paramedics focused on the task ahead. The emergency crew were working to locate House. Cuddy and Wilson could do nothing but wait until they were face to face with House and could assess his status for themselves.

Wilson watched over Cuddy, concern written all over his face. He was concerned for the woman in front of him, who obviously cared for his best friend and loved him deeply, despite his obvious and many flaws. He was also worried about his friend, trapped who knew where, probably hurt, and definitely unable to get himself free. He only hoped that House would be ok. He also felt angry. Angry with House for being the type of man no one felt they could rely on. Angry with the rescue crew for not finding his best friend already. Angry at the stupid prank that had caused the factory collapse in the first place. Angry at the world for letting any of this happen.

The ambulance finally pulled into parking lot surrounding the factory. Cuddy opened the door and was running before the engine had even died. Her destination was the rescue team gathered, pouring over plans of the building, determining the best route to take. The men stood in a tight huddle, but broke apart when Cuddy, Wilson and the paramedic crew approached them.

HHHHHHHHH

The two anxious Doctors sat together in the back of the ambulance listening to the tinny voices over the radio. The young, pretty driver sat in the front waiting to be called into action. Sullivan and his crew agreed to take a paramedic with them, but drew the line at the two Doctors. They were too close, too worried, they could end up endangering the mission. His only concession was to allow them to remain in the ambulance, where they could hear the radio.

Cuddy replayed the conversation over in her head, as she waited for news. "We have located the girl's last position. She was trapped with a young man, who was pronounced dead at the scene. We believe that Dr House freed the couple from a fallen beam, actually lifted the beam, we think it made the area unstable. There is a large hole in the floor near where the couple were trapped, we think this is where Dr House fell. We have explored the area as much as we can from above its unstable so we have to find another route to Dr House. I was just briefing my team, who are going to go in through an entrance to the basement were they should be able to retrieve Dr House safely." That had been 20 minutes ago, they had barely heard anything since.

Suddenly the radio blared into life. "He have located Dr House." It was the paramedic. "Patient is unconscious at the scene, GCS of two. He was cyanotic with resps of just 84, is now holding steady at 95 resps per minute on 100% O2. Severe open displaced fracture of the right femur, the femoral artery has been compromised. We will need more blood standing by when we bring him up. It looks like he has severe breaks to a number of ribs on the left side; they may be compromising his breathing. He has multiple contusions over his body, the worst of which is his head, severe scalp lac. and swelling. I have administered morphine. We are going to move him once he is stable. Core temp seems low, so make sure you have warm blankets standing by. Dr House started his own line and administered fluids and has cleaned and dressed his leg, he even started a chart." The man at the end of the radio sounded impressed, almost disbelieving that a patient with such severe injuries was able to treat himself.

The driver responded, asking questions before moving to begin setting up for the patient.

HHHHHHHHH

20 minutes later lights began to appear in the crumbling opening to the factory. The crew emerged into the dull, drizzly morning and began to carry their patient towards the waiting ambulance. Cuddy, Wilson and the driver rushed forwards, pushing the waiting bed with them. The driver was focused on the information being relayed by her partner but the two Doctor's attention was focused on the man strapped to the stretcher, completely unmoving. He looked a lot worse than both of them hoped. His pale face, hair and clothes covered in dust and grime, his damaged leg immobilised in a heavy splint, his head strapped down, immobilised by blocks on either side.

The team lifted their burden higher and dumped him heavily on the bed. House groaned briefly, his eyelids fluttering before stilling again. Cuddy rushed to his side, Wilson to his head, already pulling out a small pen light and began shining it in his eyes, the reactions were sluggish, House groaned again, his breath fogging up the mask supporting his breathing. "House" Wilson called loudly. "House, if you can hear me open your eyes." Nothing

Cuddy joined in, trying to bring her boyfriend back. "House, it's ok, you are going to be ok. Try to open your eyes for me." Still there was no reaction. The paramedics were getting impatient, shuffling from foot to foot. They realised their patient wouldn't last much longer if he didn't get some serious medical intervention. Sensing their eagerness to get started, Wilson backed away, putting a gentle hand on Cuddy's shoulder, guiding her out of the way.

Warm blankets were pulled out and placed over House's lower body. His shirt was opened and pads were placed on his chest, attached to monitors, a pulse ox was placed on his finger. They pushed him towards the ambulance, its door open, warm air inviting them in. They sped up as they got closer, pushing forcefully. The legs of the bed folded beneath it as the trolley slid smoothly into place. The reaction in House was immediate. His shoulders hunched, hands clenched into fists and his eyes flew open, he tried to raise his head and curl protectively around his injured ribs but was held down by the straps of the backboard. A deep guttural groan escaped from his lips. The rescue crew moved back uneasily, aware that they couldn't help the man. Wilson and Cuddy flew in to take their place.

The driver picked up the radio and began to talk to dispatch "Please alert Princeton General that we are 7 minutes out." The Driver called to the Doctors.

"No, take him to Princeton Plainsboro. I want him there." Cuddy ordered.

The driver looked exasperated before replying. "PPTH is 12 minutes out but Princeton General is only 7, he needs immediate attention. We are going to Princeton General, she overruled Cuddy starting up the engine. The older lady glared at the medic in front of her, but eventually gave in, she could always transfer him once he was stable.

The driver was already in her seat, the second paramedic sat at House's head. Cuddy slid in past the narrow bed, taking up his right hand as she went. "Hey." She looked carefully at the man lying prone before her. His eyes were a little unfocused, but they moved to settle on her face.

He breathed in a shallow breath, obviously unable to draw in a full breath and replied weakly, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask. "What took you so long?.. Did you think I was propping … up some bar somewhere?" He couldn't say more than a few words before sucking in another breath. Wilson worriedly eyed the sat monitor, from his position by House's legs, avoiding the perceptive question.

"Based on your past behaviour what else could we think? You normally go out of your way to avoid patients." House struggled to breathe again to answer, wincing as pain tore through his side.

"Can you get me off the back board? I need to sit up."

The medic was quick to jump in now. "Sorry Dr House, no can do. You need to be cleared by a Doctor before we can let you up."

Gasping again House trained his eyes upwards towards the man at his head. "I am a Doctor…" Gasp "I say I'm fine…" Gasp "Let me up…" Gasp "I can't breathe lying down like this…."His gasped again and began panting painfully and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sudden spinning. He felt light headed. All three sets of eyes watched the monitor as House's sats dropped to 92.

"Please try not to speak Dr House. Concentrate on your breathing." The medic said, adjusting the mask on House's face. House glared at the man behind him, then looked at Cuddy.

She motioned for the medic to pass her the charts House had started. She scanned the dirty page, trying to ignore the smear of blood in the right hand corner. "There's not mention of neck or back pain. House, does your neck hurt?" He answered no. "Your back?" Again no, "Any numbness in your extremities? "The third answer in the negative left her satisfied, the risks were low. She looked to the young paramedic. "We are taking off the collar. " He was about to jump in so she continued. "His need to breathe outweighs the small risk to his spine at the moment. Wilson watched the whole exchange in silence. House's ability to get what he wanted from his boss, his girlfriend always surprised Wilson. All it took was a word, a look, sometimes a speech and Cuddy would trust her life to him, would trust his life to his word.

"Fine, but the responsibility falls to you if something goes wrong." He began to undo the Velcro straps holding House in place, then removed the blocks keeping his head immobile. Soon he had removed the backboard and House was being slowly raised up. The man on the bed kept his eyes shut against the pain, feeling as though his ribs were grinding together. He breathing however began to stabilise at 94 as the pressure was eased in chest.

Slowly House opened his eyes again as the pain eased down to tolerable. Cuddy was looking down at him, her expression full of concern, her gaze focused. "How's the pain? Do you need more morphine?" She asked as she adjusted the blankets over his chest.

House shook his head, enjoying the freedom, by stopped when his vision clouded over. "I'm fine. Pain's better than it was." Cuddy was about to push the point when Wilson interrupted.

"House, can you feel this?" The concern in his voice caused House and Cuddy to break their gaze and look to the man hunched over House's leg .The blanket had been pulled back, his right shoe and sock had been removed and were lying on the bed. Wilson was holding House's foot, it looked blue, cyanotic. "Can you feel this?" Wilson repeated as he drew a pen down House's foot."