Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of these characters...but you already knew that, right?
[H] [H] [H]
A soft clatter cut through the professional chime of his cell phone as it rang softly throughout the small office. Wilson had thrown down his pen and glanced at the clock. There was no doubt in his mind as to who was calling him. With a sharp intake of breath and a grumble, he picked up the small device and flipped it open with his left hand.
"House, what could you possibly want? You left here," he chattered angrily as his eyes darted to the clock to verify that he had indeed read the time correctly, "less than 2 hours ago. Is Cuddy's really all that terrible?"
A heavy silence took hold of the line as Wilson's furious, unfocused gaze flared with frustration. Deep down, he knew something like this was going to happen. It always happened like this when it came to House. Always.
"An eye for an eye."
Wilson rolled his eyes and slammed his right hand down on his desk in frustration. There was too much paperwork and too many appointments stacking up to deal with House's riddles right now.
"Seriously, House? We're gonna jump into riddles?"
"An eye for an eye. He…He…"
"Dammit, House! I don't have time for your immature little pranks! I'm so far behind on my paperwork because your sorry ass was in the hospital that I need every minute I can get!"
A heaviness filled the air as Wilson rubbed the side of his face with his free hand, immediately regretting the words that he couldn't take back. He knew it wasn't House's fault that he had been in the hospital anymore than it was his fault that he had been kidnapped in the first place. It was an unfair statement. However, the guilt Wilson was feeling only multiplied as he heard panting coming through the receiver.
"House. I shouldn't have said that."
"He has her."
"Wait, who? Cuddy?" asked Wilson, confusion mingling with his guilt.
"Yes, Cuddy. He has Cuddy. I don't know how or when. She was gone when I got out of the shower. I don't know. I don't know what to do. I don't…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, killer. You're talking a mile a minute and so far all I got out of that is that Cuddy isn't home. Are you sure she didn't just go to the store? Did she leave you a note?"
"She didn't leave me a damn note, because she didn't just leave! HE TOOK HER!"
A note of dread began to fill Wilson's body as House spoke. The panic in his friend's voice was chilling. It was very much like House to get upset and to take it out on everyone around him. However, it was very unlike House to get upset and to let it be heard in his voice.
"…Who took her, House?" queried Wilson cautiously. A chill had settled in his very being that he was finding hard to shake. It was very clear that something was horribly wrong.
A clatter rang through the earpiece as Wilson recognized the sound of House's cane crashing somewhere in the distance. Wilson didn't know if it was frustration or panic that motivated the diagnostician's actions and he honestly didn't want to know.
"Eric. Eric has Cuddy."
{H] [H] [H]
House slid to the floor, clutching his phone to his ear in a desperate attempt to stay grounded in the real world. He could feel the air quickly entering and exiting his lungs, but there was little he could do to regulate it.
He felt numb and completely devoid of any sensation whatsoever. Fragments of thought squeezed there way through his conscious mind as he struggled to hold on to the conversation he was having with Wilson. He stared unblinkingly at his cane, now across the room. He hadn't meant to throw it, but he couldn't stop himself once the crushing reality hit him. He had said it out loud and suddenly it was much more real.
Eric. Has. Her. HehasCuddy. HE HAS CUDDY!
"House?"
He swallowed thickly and refused to remove his eyes from the cane laying across the room. Right now it was his only anchor to reality other than Wilson's voice and even that was beginning to fade as the panic began to sink in.
"W-what?"
"I'm on my way there. Just…just don't hang up, alright?"
He was shaking his head before he realized that he hadn't said anything.
"Call the police."
The silence caused him to wince and throw his head backwards into the wall. Didn't Wilson know how close he was to losing it right now? Did Wilson know that he couldn't handle any more emotional turmoil right this second? He was already so close to breaking. He couldn't handle this…
"You called me first? House! What were you thinking?"
"Just call the damn cops and call me back, alright?"
Before he knew what he was doing, House snapped his phone shut and placed his phone on the floor with forced control. His head was swimming and he was losing the fight to control his breathing as well as his suppressed memories. He clenched his fists, ignoring the stiffness of the freshly healed slices on his arm, and gazed up at the ceiling.
[H] [H] [H]
"Where is she?" cried Greg House as his eyes darted from his father to the open door and back with a note of fear. At best, his father was unpredictable and unruly. At worst? He didn't want to think about it.
He said nothing, but instead chose to laugh loudly at the obvious concern and anxiety displayed on his son's face. He took a few steps forward as Greg instinctively shrank away. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Your little girlfriend ran off with someone better than you, Greg. Are you at all surprised?" asked his father as he squared his shoulders and stood at ease in the military sense.
A strange mix of rage and self-loathing ran through Greg House's veins as he stared his father down. It wouldn't be the first time he had been stood up by a date, but it also wouldn't be the first time his father had lied to him either. He was torn between turning his back on his father to call Lucy and just slugging his father square in the jaw.
"You're lying."
It was a bold statement and Greg knew it. However, he was four weeks away from graduating high school, packing up all of his belongings and escaping to college. He really didn't care what his father did to him at this point. He was so close to getting away.
"Am I?"
The knot building in his stomach clenched uncomfortably as Greg continued to hold his father's intense gaze. His fists clenched involuntarily as the instinct to fight began to overtake the one to flee.
Without warning, Greg leapt at his father and swung. A grunt lodged itself in his throat, however, as John House snagged his son's fist effortlessly from the air. Greg chanced a glance at his father's face and froze in shock as he saw the smug smirk beginning to form on his lips. He had planned for this to happen all along.
Without warning, Greg felt his arm being twisted inward so that he couldn't move without dislodging his shoulder. However, the tension only increased as his father spun him around and pinned him, with his free arm around his neck, so that any movement would cause damage. Greg began to pant and shiver with the effort to hold still, further jostling his already sore shoulder.
"What was that boy? I didn't hear you."
Greg closed his eyes and ground his teeth together to keep from saying anything else that he would later regret. The pressure on his wrist increased as his father's grip tightened around the joint. He swallowed thickly knowing that his about to be in serious pain.
"I said, you're lying, sir," spat Greg with as much malice as the strong hold around his neck would allow.
There was a moment as the words rang through the elder House's mind in which Greg thought he might escape this with minimal damage. However, with a sharp intake of breath, Greg was left reeling in agony as his father tightened his grip on his wrist and pulled.
There was a yell followed by a thud as Greg was pushed to the floor. He sat on his knees, panting, and doing everything in his control to keep from moving what was now a dislocated shoulder.
Heavy footsteps haunted the House residence as John grabbed his coat, made his way to the front door and slammed it shut in anger. It was only after hearing the roar of the car that Greg knew it was safe to move.
Cradling the damaged limb in his good arm, he pulled himself awkwardly to his feet and made it to the phone hanging on the kitchen wall. Keeping the groan in his throat, House managed to pick up the receiver and dial Lucy's number.
"Hello?"
"Lucy? Its…Its Greg."
"Hey, I was just leaving to meet you. Are we still-"
"I'm sorry, but I have to cancel tonight. I. Uh. I had a bit of an accident. Clumsy me."
"Greg."
Her tone said it all. She knew that it wasn't an accident and by the way she drew in a breath and let out a heavy sigh, Greg knew she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easy either.
"I'm fine, okay?"
"What'd you do this time?"
"Dislocated shoulder."
The hiss that greeted his ears made him feel powerless. It was all too obvious that she knew he had gotten this injury from his father.
"Okay. Um, can I come pick you up?"
"Yea. I'm…home alone."
"I'll be there in ten, okay? Meet me outside."
"Thank you."
There was a soft click as Lucy hung up the phone. Greg paused a moment, collecting the inner strength he needed to face Lucy. He moved slowly down the hall to his room, awkwardly grabbing his jean jacket while using his forearm to support the dislodged limb at the same time. Before he knew what was happening, he was sitting uncomfortably still in Lucy's car on the way to the Emergency Room for the third time this school year.
He only had to deal with four more weeks of this. Just four more weeks…
[H] [H] [H]
"House?"
Jumping with fright, House swatted at the hand on his shoulder and snapped his head forward to be greeted with the familiar chocolate brown eyes of his best friend. He broke the gaze quickly and stared over his friend's shoulder, noting the way his own breathing was still quick and erratic. He was still having a panic attack.
"I knocked, but you didn't answer."
House looked back at Wilson, "Oh."
"I called the police. They're already on their way to his apartment."
A dark chuckle escaped House's lips before he could stop himself. Weren't they supposed to be smarter than that? Weren't they supposed to have the bastard in their custody anyways? Why would he go back to the place where it all started?
"He won't be there. He's not that stupid. He went somewhere else. Somewhere safe that we won't be expecting."
The sound of shuffling met House's ears as he forced himself to breathe through his nose and he focused once again on the cane across the room. His periphery picked up the sight of his friend sitting next to him before he heard the voice much closer than it was before.
"I know, but they're doing all that they can right now."
"Well, its not enough."
A heavy sigh slipped from Wilson's mouth before he spoke, "House. We both know that there's nothing more they can do than retrace the places they've already checked until they get any new leads."
"New leads? New leads? Are you kidding me!" began House with as much composure as was possible before he continued, "The next lead they're gonna get is Lisa Cuddy's mangled body being left on their doorstep if they don't do something now!"
House's stomach clenched uncomfortably as he said the words out loud. The last thing he wanted was for Cuddy to get hurt. It was his fault as it was that she was wrapped up in this situation at all. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her - even if it only meant the tiniest of scratches.
Wilson glanced at House, searching for the inner strength he needed to apologize for his earlier outburst. It was at just the moment that the oncologist opened his mouth that the chorus to "Time After Time" blared its way from House's right hip.
With a jolt, House reached for his phone and stared in shock at the name on the caller ID.
Boss Lady.
"Cuddy."
[H] [H] [H]
Shivers wracked her body as she listened intently to the phone ringing in her ear. She had woken up moments ago, groggy and disoriented in a room that smelled familiar, yet was pitch black and impossible to identify. She wasn't sure why he had left her alone, but she was certain that he didn't know her phone had been in her pocket.
C'mon, House. Pick up. I need you!
"Cuddy?"
A relieved smile crossed her lips as she heard his gruff and disbelieving voice on the other end. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill as she sucked in a breath she hadn't meant to hold.
"House," she began in a frail tone that betrayed her fear, "I-I don't know where I am. But he's got me. Eric's got me and…"
"Shhhh. I know. I know he has you. He left a little…calling card…for me to find. Are you alright?"
The concern practically dripped from his voice, melting her heart a bit even as she assessed herself. Everything seemed to be in order. Her thoughts were still a bit sluggish, but otherwise, she was unharmed.
"Yea, I'm alright. I'm just…"
"I know. Don't say it."
Cuddy looked around nervously in an attempt to distract herself from the anxiety that was slowly building in her chest. With great caution not to make more noise than was necessary, she began to move about and was relieved to discover that she wasn't tied up or restricted in any way.
"I think he took me back to his place…"
"Is it a studio apartment?"
Cuddy looked around and noted immediately that there was no way the room she was in was an entire apartment. She was clearly in a bedroom and that was that.
"No. I'm in a bedroom. Its got to be a guys room. There's practically no decorations in here."
The chuckle that greeted her ears soothed her somewhat. If House could see humor in a time like this, then everything would be okay. She had to keep telling herself that. If she believed it, then it would be true.
"You would make assumptions like that. Let me guess. Unmade bed and if you turn to the right and look down, there's a rug that barely matches anything else in the room."
She heard the playful mocking in his voice, but decided to check anyways. Leaning over, Cuddy glanced down at the floor to her right and smiled lightly. Of course he was right.
"Yea, actually. How'd you know?"
She heard the pause in his voice and knew that somewhere in his sophisticated mind, the gears were whirring away wildly. Something was clicking in his brain.
"I was joking. Is it red with white stripes?"
She glanced down again and pulled her brows together in confusion before she spoke, "Yea. What are you watching me from a hidden camera or something?"
"No. Now look at the little night table to your right. There should be a black digital clock on it with a drawer in the front. Still right?"
The night stand was there, exactly as House described. Cuddy didn't know how he could possibly know any of this. This was all too eerie. Maybe she was having some kind of nightmare brought on by the TV program she caught before she dozed off.
"Yea, but how?"
"Open the drawer and feel along the side closest to you."
She fumbled for a moment in her attempt to be as quiet as possible, but the drawer grated harshly in its track as she pulled. She prayed the noise wouldn't attract the attention of the psycho somewhere in this place with her. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as her fingers grazed a familiar plastic object within the drawer.
"House, it's a-"
"-pill bottle. I know. Cuddy, I know where you are…"
"What? How could you possibly…"
"Just keep me on the line, Wilson's already calling the police. We'll have you out of harm's way in no time, alright?"
"House? How could you possibly know where I am?"
"I know, because I live there."
Cuddy snorted before clamping a hand over her mouth in complete disbelief. She had been in House's bed once before in college, but she had been drunk…and he had been with her too. The irony of her sitting in House's bed while he sat somewhere in her home was not lost on her.
"You're joking!"
"Glad to see someone's awake."
Fear gripped Cuddy unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She hadn't heard him enter the room and she was certain that he hadn't been there when she pulled the phone out of her pocket.
"Give me the phone."
[H] [H] [H]
"That's right, I said apartment 221B."
Wilson's voice traveled over to the diagnostician that had taken to pacing as he spoke to the Dean of Medicine. However, the shuffling that greeted his ears from his cellphone speaker confused him a bit.
"Cuddy?"
"Wrong again, Dr. House."
All the blood in House's face drained instantly as that familiar voice echoed within his head. He was there. In the same room. He was there with Cuddy and he, House, was not.
"Eric."
"Ah. So you haven't forgotten me after all."
"Nope," said House as he limped quickly over to Wilson pacing across the room.
"We need to go," mouthed House to his friend. He only received a puzzled look in response.
"Let me tell you, House. I'm going to enjoy this."
"Enjoy what exactly?"
He faced Wilson once again, pointing to himself then to Wilson before pretending to drive a car. He watched as Wilson nodded in comprehension and headed to the door just behind the diagnostician.
"Mmmm. Wouldn't you like to know…"
"Well, yes. That was why I asked in the first place."
A dark chuckled filled his ears as Wilson's car purred to life and jolted into motion. Apparently even the oncologist wanted to get to Cuddy desperately. He had to admit, the haste was greatly appreciated.
"Well first I'm going to make her suffer, just like Sophie suffered…"
There was a sharp noise that sounded like fabric being ripped followed by a sharp crack that could only be skin roughly hitting skin. A shriek assaulted House's ears and his blood froze at the sound.
"Leave her alone," he growled into the phone. He could feel the chill in his blood rapidly heating and becoming blind rage. He glanced out the window and noted that Wilson was already making incredibly good time back to his apartment. It was a ten minute drive following the speed limit. At this rate, they'd be there in five.
"I don't think so, House. Just look at her. So beautiful…"
The sound of a struggle rang through the phone's ear piece and a brutal mix of dread and fury pulsed through House in such a way that everything suddenly became much sharper than usual. As the adrenaline surged through his veins, House could do nothing more than listen and grimace. There was a muffled cry followed by the one word that tore at his heart worse than he knew possible.
"HOUSE!"
His heart wrenched at the sound of her voice; knowing that he was powerless to do anything to help her right now, ate at him worse than anything else he had ever experienced.
"I said, leave her alone." The amount of malice and hatred in his voice startled Wilson, who had slammed on the breaks as the light in front of them turned red. It was the last obstacle between them and House's front door.
"Oh yea? Why, House? Is it because you love her? Because you want her for yourself?"
With a sudden surge, Wilson's car burst forward as the light turned green. The amount of anger and jealousy in House's body swelled to such a point that he was completely speechless and helpless to do anything other than grip the phone in his trembling hands.
"I swear, if you touch one hair on her head, I'll…"
"Oh. Its too late for that. Far too late."
Squealing breaks barely registered in the diagnostician's ears as he slammed his cell phone shut and rushed out of the oncologist's car. His friend's cries to wait for the police were lost as he scrambled to the front door of his home and practically busted through the front door in his frenzy.
He took in the sight of his home and could hear the struggle coming from the inner sanctum of his bedroom even before he made it down the hallway.
Sirens registered somewhere in his head as he flung the door open to his bedroom. The sight nearly knocked him backwards. There, laying practically naked with bruises and welts on her body, was Cuddy with a crazed madman pinning her to the bed.
With a cry of complete rage, House launched himself at Eric.
[H] [H] [H]
A/N: Phew! What a ride this chapter was to write! So sorry it took me so long to get this out. This semester took a lot more out of me than I thought it would! Anyways, here's the next installment of FSoA. I hope you all like it! Please let me know what you think!
xoTrebleMaker