Raven: You can use all the '!!!' you want! :) I'm glad you like the stories. But, I can't take credit for taking someone's work. I am writing a novel—SciFi—but no vampires. Well, I just started one, but got sidetracked with this fic. But thanks for your review.
Thanks, NightWolf. I added an excuse for my error of House's rock-hard body and, um, what was I saying? hehe
Twichild: Do you honestly think House could be w/Cuddy as a vampire? lol And or that matter, Cuddy a vamp, too? I can just see all the ruckus they'd cause. lol But, sorry, nothing will happen w/the two.
Teddi: For being the first to review—you get a House bite!!! ;-)
CHAPTER TWELVE
"How are yours hands?" House asked Cuddy as they walked down back to Wilson's hospital room.
"They're sore," she answered, continuing to rub them. "I guess it was endorphins because I didn't feel anything at first."
"If I had known you were going to beat the hell out of me I would have put on my super-hero body armor."
She looked at him, thinking he was serious, until she saw his half-grin. "I wish it were that. But I've got something cooler."
"Really?" she asked as they got on the elevator and the doors closed.
"I saved Wilson."
"What?!"
"Yeah, two people actually, at least I think the first was human. I can't be sure."
"What happened?"
"Long story," he answered as the doors opened and they proceed down the hall.
They were quiet as they walked in Wilson's room and found him sitting up and watching them expectantly. "It's about time you came to see me."
He was slurring his words, and House commented, "Man, I miss my Vicodin."
Wilson chuckled then groaned in pain.
"Is it bad?" Cuddy asked as she stood beside the bed.
"No, not now." He looked at House. "So, what are you going to do now?"
Cuddy shot House an interested look, because she didn't take his comment about going back to Washington State seriously.
House met her stare before he looked back at Wilson. "I'm—we're going back . . . leaving tonight."
"What? Why?" He lay back into the mattress and closed his eyes briefly.
"You honestly didn't think I could stay here, do you?"
"You've done crazier things," he snickered then grabbed his stomach.
"Let's not do this now," Cuddy said. "He needs rest."
"No, no," Wilson said as he attempted to sit up. "House," he groaned then lay back down, "can't you work something out?"
"No," he replied adamantly.
"Lisa, talk to him," Wilson pleaded.
She was about to reply when alarms on Wilson's heart monitor indicated his heart rate had rapidly increased. "House, out," she ordered as she put her hand on Wilson's arm.
"You're no longer my boss," he retorted, his voice harsh.
"House, I'll meet you on the roof," she said more sternly before she pressed the button to administer another dose of Morphine through the I.V. to Wilson's arm.
"Lisa, I don't want—" Wilson muttered, closing his eyes. "I wan'—"
"Shh, James," she told him, her voice calm and soft, gently running her fingers through his hair.
"I'm not leaving," House protested.
Her voice was hard and firm when she told him, "Get out of here!"
"No, don't—" Wilson muttered for the last time before he succumbed to the pain medication.
House did as he was told and walked out into the hall to the stairs that led to the roof. He didn't once notice the odd looks from nurses on duty, who had been gossiping who the stranger was they had seen the whole day.
Purposefully pushing the door to the roof's stairs as hard as he could, he ascended the steps two-by-two. When he finally stepped onto the roof, the cold December air slapped him in the face. After throwing off the hospital wardrobe, he put his hands on his hips and inhaled deeply through his mouth. It was enough to bring him back to reality.
He looked up at the night sky and noticed how full the moon was. Seeing every crater as if he were only a few miles from it, Dr. Gregory John House never imagined things could have gotten this fucked up. He didn't mean it to; it certainly wasn't his plan. But then again, everything he did didn't always turn out as he planned.
Staring at the moon for he didn't know how long, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Ow! Damn it!" came a female cry from behind him.
Turning around, he saw Cuddy holding her hand in great pain. When she looked up at him, tears filled her eyes.
"Do you never learn, woman?" he asked with a half-grin.
He then took her hand carefully and sandwiched it gently between his own. Looking down at her hand, the deathly cold of his hands startled her, and although she didn't realize his intention, she didn't pull away from his grasp. Within seconds, a warmth spread from her skin to the inside her hand—almost as if a laser were repairing her broken hand.
When she looked back into his face, his eyes were closed in concentration. Remaining silent, she waited for some indication from him that he was finished.
"Wow," he muttered as he opened his eyes slowly.
Furrowing her eyebrows deeply, she commented the same. "How—is this what you meant—"
"I . . . I didn't . . . wasn't angry."
"What are you talking about?"
Taking his hands away, he shoved them in his jeans' pockets. "Apparently, I had to be angry to heal before."
"Oh, then you should be able to do this all the time," she smirked as she rubbed her hand. "I . . . I don't believe it."
"All better?"
"Yeah." She walked to the four-foot wall on the roof's edge and sat down hugging herself from the cold. "House, do you really have to go?"
Ignoring her question, he valiantly removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
"Thank you," she said, wrapping it around her. "House, how is it now—with me?"
"Manageable."
"Oh." She looked down at her feet and kicked a few pebbles.
"You're surprised or disappointed?"
"Surprised, I guess."
"I do have to leave."
She looked into his eyes. "I know."
"But I don't want to," he added.
"I know. What will you do with yourself?"
"I don't know."
They laughed, albeit nervously.
"I'll come . . . when I can," he told her.
"Okay."
"I'm sorry if I . . ." House couldn't finish speaking.
Dr. Lisa Cuddy knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. "No. I'm glad you came. Knowing you're alive—"
"The undead," he corrected.
"That's just morbid," she replied, but managed a grin.
"No more so than having to hunt and kill animals and leaving their carcass—"
"House!" Waving her hand, she said, "TMI."
"Well, I'm off." House turned for the door but Cuddy called out for him.
Facing her again, he watched as she approached him. "Can . . . is it okay if—"
"You kiss me? Won't Wilson be upset?" he grinned.
"Shut up," she laughed. "Would a hug suffice?"
"Eck. You know I'm not a hugger."
"Tough," she answered as she slid into his arms.
Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her and did indeed hug her.
"I'll miss you," she said, her voice shaking.
"I know," he snickered.
"Won't you at least call and check on Wilson?" she asked as she broke away, but remained in his arms.
Looking over his face, he replied, "Yeah. Now that I know you two are boinking, I want all the details."
Shaking her head, she took two steps back. "You wouldn't dare! James would never—"
"Oh, calm down. Now go home, Cuddy."
"Call me when you get back to Washington?"
"Yes, Mommy."
"Take care of yourself."
"Always."
