Speak no Evil

Corynohinus
Batman Begins OST
James Newton Howard

Breath of warm, stale air, blown through a drinking straw, caresses him like a tropical breeze, sensation so different from any he experienced in captivity that it wakes him without the ubiquitous panic attack. House picks up the agents arboreal odor and slowly unfurls form fetal position with a pained hiss. A glance at the windows makes no difference in the amount of ambient light, clouds blocking the sun and bringing extra ache to his barometer bones.

"Call for Ingrid." He speaks through a groan, rolling himself on the back. Arm pressed under body weight protests in tingles. House waits for what feels like forever until Ingrid's nail-less finger draws a question mark on his chest.

"Constant global six." He explains. "Localized eights when moving. Start here. " Right hand rises.

Small, deceptively strong hands start working his muscles, Greg near melting as she dismantles a hot spot.

"Agent?" House calls out to the man, other hand searching blindly.

The man places his hand in Greg's.

"Call a translator."

'Don't need one.' The Agent spells.

"You're a quick learner." House smiles a bit. "Why are you here?"

'We really need your testimony.'

House sighs. "Please…"

'Don't mention the lawyer by name or occupation, don't mention him at all.'

He pulls the hand back, fingers fidgeting nervously. "Ingrind…"

She pats his calf understandingly.

House mimes drinking. The younger man helps him sit up and Greg grabs the rails to stay upright, head still hung forward. A straw makes contact with his lips, sugar-loaded orange juice with no acid to aid his recovery. House sips greedily. Pulling away he releases a nervous huff.

"They waited for me at hospital parking. Three men, two muscles. Drove me home. In the trunk. Place was unlocked. Alison on the bed, sitting. Bound. Gagged. No sound. Neighbors not alerted. Binds oddly loose. Two more muscle inside. One with gun to her head. Other took my cane. He had gloves. Binds made sense. Plan was to make it look I snapped. I pushed him. Non-muscle kicked my thigh. Paralyzed me with pain. Pulled me by the hair. On my knees. Gloved muscle brought the cane up. I looked away. Switch blade against my temple. Non-muscle threatened to cut my lids off. I looked. Alison scared, forgiving. Me sorry."

He gulps.

"Blow to the temple. She dropped unconscious. Another three at the crown. Fatal. Nothing I could do. They held me down another five minutes. Just in case. Until she- …until the body paled."

House takes a long, quivering breath, in and out.

"They shoved the cane in my arms, Blood everywhere. Don't know how long I stood there. Called the cops when I came to. Admitted."

The agent grabs House by the upper arm, prying his hand of the rail to continue the conversation. 'Why?'

He signs C1, than asks for a drink again.

Having helped him, the agent returns to the role of interrogator. 'Why did they kill her?'

"I was curious." He gives a 'duh?' expression. "Clauses three and four forbade investigation into who tortured me or why."

'Do you know now?'

"Thompson visited me in jail. I recognized him as the father of a patient I failed to save. She had a hereditary disease. It could have been treated if diagnosed sooner. He took it like I killed his girl and blamed him for it."

'How did you escape the first time?'

"I didn't. That's a breach of contract. I just coulnt keep up with the other inmates. The limp."

'You robed a store. Why?'

"I was starving. Dying of thirst."

'Why not surrender immediately?'

"Beating was more likely than sustenance."

'You were beaten anyway.'

House sighed. "I was outside the walls, outside their control, full, warm, not in pain. I knew it couldn't last but… Sir, that was my last supper. I knew after that I was as good as dead."

'The second escape?'

He shrugged. "Two guards came to my cell. Told me to shower, shave, change to civilian clothes. I was driven in a window-less truck. Dropped in the middle of New York and told to admit a double homicide. Doing it would change nothing. Not doing it would result in at least one death. Easiest thing I ever did."

'Records say you were executed, what happened?'

"I was strapped and given anesthesia. Other two injections were saline. I woke in the old solitary – the hole, in the closed-down prison section. I'd rather not talk about what followed."

Holding House's torso sandwiched between his splayed palms, the agent returns him to the bed. 'Thank you.' He spells, than shakes Greg's hand respectfully, clasping with both hands.

House places his own over the younger man's, giving him a small grateful squeeze. As the two separate, House adds "Get Ingrid. Please."