Thirteen was the first to speak. House didn't even acknowledge their presence in his office. "House, we--"

"Shh!" He interrupted instantly. "I'm thinking."

The staff waited their silently as he played with a tennis ball, rotating it in a circular motion in his hands. His fingers were tense, gripping it tightly. Who was that girl?

"Uh...House?"

He blinked and looked up, his mind still going. "Do whatever you want to do. I need to go see Wilson." With that he stood, clutching his cane and dropping the ball, and headed out the door. He saw two police men headed towards him, so quickly he turned the other way towards Cuddy's office. House was surprised to see policemen down that hall as well. He was not in the mood to speak with policemen, though he rarely liked to speak to anyone.

Dr. Wilson was emerging from the hall adjacent, going through some x-rays in the not-so-decent lighting. House grabbed his white coat and stopped him before the policemen could see him. Wilson dropped a result paper and bent to pick it up. "Do you mind?" he asked.

"Some girl made her way into my office crying, asking to see Spider-Man," House told him.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Dying for attention or information. Since when do you care about those things? You've got a superhero to save, in case you forgot already."

House grumbled. He really did not care for the kid. "I don't know why I bothered telling you, anyway," he said, limping down the hall way where Wilson had just come from. It was a in the back of the building, towards a staircase no one really used. The thump of his cane on the tile seemed to echo in its silence. He was happy to be away from it all for a moment. Who knew treating a superhero was such work?

"Doctor House?" said a cold voice. "You are Doctor House, correct? I saw you in the lobby."

House turned around. A man wearing sunglasses and a brown trenchcoat was standing before him. He had dark hair, a sort of pudgy face, and a broad frame. His smile was...odd.

"What do you want?"

The man smiled. "What I want is simple. Where is Spider-Man?"

"We can play 20 Questions, and you'll lose, otherwise there's no way I'm telling you."

The man removed his glasses, showing his face. It was striking how familiar he looked! "Who are you?" House asked.

Suddenly a long, metal arm emerged from one of the coats. It locked itself around House's neck and threw him against the wall. "I am also a doctor," the man laughed. Doctor Otto Octavius.

House wasn't sure how he felt. He'd been punched, shot, gone through serious surgeries, but somehow the look in this insane man's eyes were all the more terrifying. House never admits fear. But he was pretty damn close at that moment; he was shocked, speechless, and afraid. Afraid of what, exactly, he could not be certain. "Tell me where he is!"

House wanted to. He really did. He didn't give a damn about Spider-Man. But something prevented him from spitting the words out. He just remained in Octopus' grasp, unblinking and silent. His patience wearing thin, his metal arm tightened its grip around House's neck. It was hard to breathe, and House gasped but still could not speak.

"Useless!" Octavius shouted in his face. The metal arm raised House behind its owner's back, and threw him into a wall. House crashed through it, plaster and dust flying everywhere. He tasted his own blood, and he found himself deaf to all the screams and panic around him. He could hear the metal arms clashing against the floor. He was coming.

A/N: I'm sorry the chapters have been rather short. But I really am trying. I am working on a lot of stories, outside of Fanfiction as well, so I am trying the best I can.