So you want to know what happens next…hee, hee, hee. I think we need a bit more of a rest before the action begins again. Thanks so much to all my trusty reviewers … boredandhomealone, becca4521, evila-elf, nanashi-reikon, felixgirl, Andy Osnard, Alipeeps, Microchips, Aldrex, Knight Wild, blueyedluv, bmax and all the rest of you who have been so very kind! Please don't stop…your reviews truly make my day, not to mention you motivate me to want to keep going!
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Chapter 10
Wilson sat slumped in an armchair, his head tilted back at an awkward angle as he dozed fitfully beside the hospital bed. He awoke with a start and sat up, wincing as he stretched the knot that had formed in the muscles of his neck. He rubbed the affected area absentmindedly with his hand as he looked blearily at his watch; two o'clock in the morning. God, it felt like this night would never end. He looked over at the sleeping form of his friend; he had refused to leave House's bedside since he had been brought up from the trauma bay. House's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling in time with the steady hiss of the ventilator. Wilson watched as he twitched in his sleep and grimaced in pain, whimpering quietly around the breathing tube.
Wilson regarded him sadly, wondering how much more punishment his friend could take. He looked up to see Thompson standing in the doorway, two steaming cups of coffee held in his large hands. True to his word, the policeman had not left the hospital, remaining even after another officer had replaced him on the post at the door to House's room. Thompson stepped quietly around the bed and handed Wilson a coffee which the oncologist gratefully accepted.
They were silent for several seconds, each regarding the sleeping House. "Is he gonna be okay?" Thompson asked quietly. "He looks like hell."
Wilson snorted in agreement, his eyes never leaving House's face. The stitched laceration on his left cheek looked ragged where the sutures had ripped open in the fall from the ambulance and his eye was bruised and swollen. He had ugly abrasions running down the back of his neck, over his shoulders and disappearing front and back beneath the blanket. There was a small amount of fluid still oozing from the sutured cut in his scalp where he had been pistol-whipped. Perhaps worst of all was the plastic tube that snaked down his throat…helping him breathe, sure… but a constant reminder of how seriously injured he really was. The head of the respirology department had checked on him earlier that evening, insisting despite House's glare, that the ventilator was absolutely necessary; that his damaged lungs could not manage on their own. He had explained that not only the lung that had collapsed was injured; House's other lung was also severely bruised. Wilson had seen the frustration in his friend's eyes but had stopped him from pulling the tube out after the specialist had departed, threatening once again to restrain House if he didn't cooperate. House had called his bluff, and tried to extubate himself anyway, not believing Wilson would really do it. The look of betrayal in House's eyes as Wilson strapped his wrists to the bedrails was one that broke Wilson's heart.
Wilson sighed, answering the policeman's question. "He's pretty banged up but he should be fine, if he could just get the chance to heal." The unspoken words in his sentence were clear…if he doesn't get attacked again… Thompson nodded glumly. The young policeman couldn't help but feel responsible for his inability to protect Dr. House.
They both looked up in surprise to see Cameron enter the room. "How's he doing?" she asked quietly.
Wilson tried to look composed. "He's sleeping…" He watched Cameron's face as she regarded the motionless House. She frowned suddenly, noticing the restraints on his wrists and then shot an angry, accusing glance at Wilson. Wilson held up his hands apologetically, his scowl matching hers. "Don't say it Allison…it was for his own good…" She could see the guilt in his eyes and her glare softened. "He forced my hand", Wilson continued sadly. "…kept trying to pull the breathing tube out, even after I warned him." Wilson smiled ever so slightly. "You know House…he's such a jerk sometimes."
Cameron smiled just a little too, nodding her head. She knew he was right; she wondered if she would have had the guts to do the same thing. She looked at Wilson, the exhaustion obvious in the lines on his face. "Why don't you go lie down on the couch in your office? I'll stay here." Wilson started to protest. Cameron put her hand on his, "Dr. Wilson, you need to get some sleep." She looked at Thompson. "You both do…you'll be no good to him if you're too tired to stand up." She motioned towards the door. "There's a policeman sitting right outside that door who is awake and alert and is not going anywhere. Neither am I. I'll page you if there is any change."
Wilson regarded her for just a moment, not wanting to leave but knowing that she was right. He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and nodded grimly. "Okay, Allison…okay. I'll be in my office but promise me you won't let him pull that tube out if he wakes up. He really doesn't need a respiratory crisis." She nodded. Wilson looked at Thompson. "What about you Sergeant? Maybe you should grab a quick nap yourself."
Thompson hesitated. He too, was exhausted, but he didn't want to leave. "I think I'll just sit right outside with my colleague", he said. "The nurse kindly brought over another armchair…I think it's some kind of recliner. Maybe I can snooze for a bit in that and then I'm right there if something happens." He wore the guilt he felt from not stopping the previous incidents clearly on his face.
Wilson nodded, feeling sorry for the young man yet grateful that he wanted to stay put. Taking one last glance at House, he turned and walked tiredly out of the room, headed for the sofa in his office and some much needed rest.
Thompson looked over at Cameron, who was standing beside House's bed. "I will be right outside", he said. She nodded and he went through the door, closing it quietly behind him. Cameron stood still for a long time and stared at House, listening to him breathe with the help of the ventilator. She saw a shudder run through his body as he slept; he grimaced and reflexively tried to pull his arms into his sides, moaning softly around the breathing tube as he unconsciously fought the restraints. She felt her eyes well up with tears. Whispering softly, she stroked his forehead gently, her voice soothing. "Shhh…Go back to sleep…its okay…I'm here." He stopped struggling and his features relaxed as she caressed his face. She continued to stroke his forehead until she was certain that he was once again sleeping peacefully. Stifling a sob, Cameron reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks, then curled up in the armchair beside House's bed. She wondered, not for the first time, why this inscrutable man provoked such strong emotions in her.
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House became aware of his surroundings very slowly as he woke up. His first sensation was that of pain; he felt an ache that seemed to encompass his entire body, particularly his head and his chest. Ow…shit. He shifted slightly on the bed and gasped as the fire in his right leg exploded. He tried to cry out but managed only a strangled groan around the tube in his throat. Oh yeah…Breathing tube… Trying to open his eyes, he reached down to hug his leg…as he always did when the pain was this bad… but was stopped abruptly by the restraints. Goddamn it…he struggled madly against the straps for a moment; his eyes jammed shut from the agony in his leg. Finally, he gave up, laying still and feeling powerless as the pain surged unobstructed through his body. Completely discouraged, he felt a single tear slide unwanted down his cheek.
He was startled by a soft touch on his face as someone wiped the tear from his face. House opened his eyes to see Cameron leaning once again over his bed; her eyes were threatening to shed their own tears as she smiled gently, looking into his eyes. "It's alright Dr. House…You're okay." He winced and turned his face away, wishing she was not here to see him like this. She withdrew her hand quickly, "Are you in pain?" He rolled his eyes, grunting around the tube. God, he sounded pathetic. "I'll get you some more Demerol…" She moved quickly, pleased to be able to do something for him. He cursed inwardly, trying to will the pain away, humiliated that she was here to see him tied to the bed like some whacked out psych patient. He angrily struggled against the restraints once more. Goddamn Wilson. House knew that the restraints were his own fault; that his stubbornness had put his best friend in a position where he'd had no choice, but it was easy to let the anger flow…somehow made the pain seem less severe.
Cameron came back into the room and hung a dose of Demerol on his IV post, adding it to the fluid drip entering his left arm, then picked up House's chart and started making notes. House was just beginning to feel the Demerol's effects when Wilson rushed into the room…Cameron had evidently paged him. He looked at House, an apologetic plea in his eyes. House just scowled at him…unforgiving. Wilson could read exactly what House was thinking in his friend's expressive eyes. Not only was he still frustrated at being on the ventilator and mad as hell at being tied down, he was really pissed that Wilson had let Cameron see him like this. Wilson gulped, "Sorry, Greg…" He looked downcast. "I thought I'd be back before you woke up…" his voice trailed off and he had a hard time meeting House's gaze.
House's glare softened somewhat…hell it had been his own fault…he lifted his arms up to the extent the restraints allowed, making it clear that he wanted the straps off. Wilson nodded. "Okay…but first you have to promise me you won't try to remove the tube before the respirologist examines you." House scowled deeply. Why wouldn't they just leave him be? Finally he closed his eyes and nodded in exasperation. Wilson smiled and unbuckled the straps and House stretched his arms gratefully above his head. The Demerol was really kicking in and he felt drowsy; he closed his eyes and felt himself drifting once more. Wilson and Cameron watched him as he fell asleep, the steady hiss of the ventilator somehow soothing in its rhythm.
Thompson stuck his head in and motioned for them to join him in the hallway. Cuddy was there, looking as exhausted as the rest of them. Thompson tried to stifle a yawn, and then looked at the three doctors standing in front of him. "I just got an update from Constable Ames", he said with a serious look on his face. "The suspect that they have in custody was not able to give us any names of others who are working for Vogler, but she thinks there are at least two or three more here in this hospital that might be."
Wilson, Cuddy and Cameron looked grim. Now it was no longer just Vogler they had to worry about. Wilson sighed and looked at the sleeping form of House through the open door of the hospital room. He looked so defenseless.