"Something's happened to…to your son…"
A moment's tense, weighted silence passed as Cuddy waited for House's mother to respond.
At last she spoke in a breathless, terrified whisper. "What? Dr. Cuddy – what's happened to Greg?"
The dread in her voice told Cuddy that this type of call was not entirely surprising to Blythe House. Cuddy supposed it would have been impossible for the woman not to be at least somewhat aware of her son's self-destructive tendencies. Considering the numerous physical disasters House had experienced over the years, the poor woman had to live in fear of just such a call as the one Cuddy was currently delivering.
She kept her voice calm and even for Mrs. House's benefit as she explained rather vaguely, "He's going to be all right…but…but he's been…attacked. He's…stable, but…it's quite serious."
"What do you mean, attacked?" There was a note of panic in the frail, breathless voice. "Attacked by whom?"
Cuddy winced at the question. She had known that it would come up, of course, but she wasn't sure yet how to handle the situation. The last time House had been lucid, he had been claiming Wilson's innocence, and Cuddy was not yet sure how to go about proving Wilson guilty, when his victim would not back up her story.
The first thing she had to do was to get House better, so that she could talk to him, and accomplish the second thing – getting him to tell the truth about what Wilson had done.
In the meantime – she had no idea what to tell his mother.
"There's…a lot of details that are better discussed in person," Cuddy hedged cautiously. "I'd rather not discuss it over the phone. But…I think he needs you right now." Cuddy hesitated a moment before adding softly, "He's asking for you."
Blythe House needed to hear nothing more.
"We'll be on the next flight out. We should be there by morning."
"This is House we're talking about, Chase. Do you really think Cuddy would want to keep me away? I'm his best friend." Wilson hesitated a few moments before adding with an almost apologetic shrug, "I'm his only friend."
Wilson moved a few steps further into the room as he spoke, his voice soft and holding a faint note of amusement, despite the grave expression of concern in his dark eyes as he looked at the trembling, flailing form lying in the hospital bed.
Except…wait…
Chase frowned as he turned his eyes back toward House, who was no longer flailing at all. He had suddenly gone very still in the bed; he was still shaking, but he had stopped struggling against the restraints. His eyes were distant, unfocused, wide and staring into nothing, and he was shaking his head slightly.
And the change seemed to have occurred at the exact moment when Wilson spoke.
"Cuddy specifically said not to let anyone but her in this room…"
"I think it's a given that she'd want me in here," Wilson insisted, edging nearer. "If it was anybody else, maybe not…but it's House…and he needs me, Chase. If Cuddy was here, she'd tell you it's fine…"
Chase might have allowed himself to be reassured by the gentle compassion in Wilson's voice, the familiar sincerity in his eyes as he looked at his friend in the bed – had he not been distracted at that moment by House's heart monitor.
House's heart rate began to steadily increase, though there were no other warning signs, nothing to indicate that he was in any immediate danger of crashing. His breathing was normal, if a bit rapid, but that was normal considering his heart rate. His body was taut and trembling in the bed, and all at once Chase recognized the strange reaction for what it was.
Sheer, unadulterated terror.
"She said 'anyone but me'. You know…I tend to think that if she'd meant 'anyone but me and Wilson'…that's what she'd have said." Chase turned toward House, alarmed as his heart rate continued to increase. "I really think you should go now. I don't think your presence is as soothing as you think it is at the moment."
Wilson's expression darkened, his tone betraying a flash of anger. "You're not suggesting that this…" He waved a hand in a vague gesture to indicate House's physical reaction. "…is because of me?"
"You're suggesting it's coincidence?" Chase countered, turning wary, incredulous eyes on the still-advancing oncologist, only a couple of feet from the bed now – and House's heart rate was still rising. Chase shook his head, his eyes narrowed with increasing suspicion. "Unh-uh. House doesn't believe in them."
"House isn't always right."
Wilson closed the remaining distance between the bed and himself, laying a gentle hand on House's arm, just above the wrist restraints. House visibly jerked at the touch, but was unable to pull away – and Chase noted the dangerously high readings on the monitor, as well as House's shallow, shaky breathing.
"Hey, buddy," Wilson said softly, a sympathetic smile on his face. "You really need to calm down, okay? You're just going to hurt yourself…"
House's response seemed to be the opposite of calming down. He shook his head harder, a ragged whimper torn from his throat as he tried in vain to pull away from Wilson's hand on his arm.
"Okay…you need to go," Chase stated, decisive at last as he wrapped a firm hand around Wilson's wrist to draw his hand away from House's arm.
Wilson refused to budge, looking up at Chase with a strange, cold smile. Chase's eyes widened in alarm at the dangerous glint he saw in Wilson's dark, unfathomable gaze. The mild-mannered oncologist's voice was very soft, disarming, as he asked in a tone of subtle challenge,
"You're going to make me?"
Cuddy sat there at her desk for a few moments after hanging up the phone, her head resting wearily in her hands. The conversation with Blythe House had taken quite a bit out of her emotionally – not that she had much left to take at the moment. She was feeling drained and overwhelmed and not sure that she had much left to give to House at the moment.
But it didn't matter; she would give it anyway.
She rose and left her office, striding quickly down the hall toward his room. When she turned the corner, Cuddy froze at the scene that met her eyes.
Chase was standing in the hall outside House's room – with Wilson.
The tension between the two men was palpable. Chase stood with his back to House's room, holding Wilson's arm, pushing Wilson back as he tried to get past Chase, back into the room. Wilson's free hand was clenched into a fist, his face twisted into an ugly mask of vindictive rage. Chase was leaning forward, speaking in a low, intent voice close to his face, and Cuddy got the impression that he was trying to keep the confrontation as private as possible in the public space of the hallway.
She also got the impression that at any moment, Chase was going to get punched in the face.
Again.
She hurried her pace, eyes narrowed and blazing with fury and indignation. Neither man was aware of her approach, their conversation obviously heated, though their voices were too quiet for her to make out the words. As she closed the distance between herself and the impending fistfight, Wilson tried again to shove Chase out of his way – and Chase shoved back, hard.
"I don't care what you have to say, you're not getting back in this room," he declared, a slight tremor to his voice, his jaw set stubbornly as he glared at Wilson.
Wilson staggered backward a step or two, staring in disbelief at the younger doctor. Then a slow, menacing smile stole over his face, and he straightened, coming back toward Chase with his fist raised. "Wanna bet?"
Chase's eyes widened in shock when he saw that Wilson actually intended to hit him, but he seemed too stunned to even think about preparing a retaliatory blow. He just stood there, staring blankly as Wilson advanced.
"This is Dr. Cuddy," Cuddy spoke into her cell phone, watching the scene, well aware that any attempt to physically stop Wilson would only succeed in getting her hurt as well as Chase. "I need security to Dr. House's room immediately…"
Wilson froze just short of landing the intended blow, whirling on his heel to face her. He glanced with alarm between Cuddy's eyes and the phone at her ear, startled, as if he couldn't quite believe that she was actually calling security on him. Satisfied that they were on their way, Cuddy flipped the phone closed, pocketing it as she met Wilson's eyes in an icy glare.
"You have some nerve," she stated, her voice dangerously low and warning, "showing up here after what you did."
"I didn't do anything!" Wilson insisted, a disbelieving laugh in his voice as he raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "Cuddy, are you out of your mind? I would never hurt House…"
"House doesn't seem to believe that," Chase pointed out, tensing as Wilson turned back toward him in anger. Chase directed his words toward Cuddy as he explained, "Should have seen his heart rate the moment Dr. Wilson stepped into the room…"
"He was in House's room?" Cuddy was furious, though it wasn't exactly clear which of them she was furious with.
"I tried to stop him." Chase was immediately defensive. "I did stop him. I made him leave the room, but…he wouldn't go…" He paused a moment, his concern for his own job fading slightly with the memory of House's panicked reaction. "House was…was terrified of him."
"This is ridiculous!" Wilson insisted, looking between them warily, as if they might be dangerously insane. "Have you both just completely lost your minds? House is my best friend! There is no way I would do anything to hurt him! All I want is to walk into his room and make sure he's okay – let him know I'm here – and this idiot practically attacks me at the door, and claims it's because you told him not to let me in."
"And you're surprised?"
Her voice was soft, controlled – and dangerous. Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest as she moved to stand beside Chase, completely blocking Wilson's access to House's room.
"I know…what you did," she stated in a slow, emphatic tone, a tight, false smile on her lips. "And you have a better chance of your next marriage making it to the five year mark than you have of getting into this room." She paused, allowing the barb to sink in, taking a vindictive pleasure in the shocked, stung expression on Wilson's face before she went on, "And in case there was any doubt as to how exactly I meant that – there is no chance whatsoever. Of either actually happening."
Wilson was quiet for a moment, visibly struggling for control, his fists clenched at his sides. His dark eyes shot sparks of venomous resentment in Cuddy's direction, his jaw clenched as he fought to steady his voice before finally responding.
"I know what House told you," he began quietly. "But he admitted that it was a lie. I never touched him. It was just one of his lies – one of his games to try to get…I don't know, sympathy…or attention…because he felt like I still hadn't forgiven him for…for Amber."
He stopped, his eyes lowered to the floor, swallowing hard, and Cuddy reminded herself that, as convincing an act as it might be, it was still indeed an act. Wilson looked up at her, his eyes wet with unshed tears.
"But I have forgiven him. That doesn't mean things are going to be the same between us. It does mean that I'm not going to beat the crap out of him every chance I get. House just can't handle the fact that things are different between us now, so he had to work up some crazy scheme – just like he always does – to try and get you, or me, or anybody he could, to feel sorry for him. And as self-destructive as he's always been, this time he ended up nearly killing himself in the process, and then nearly killing himself again, on purpose, out of guilt."
A glance at Chase revealed that he was torn, uncertain, partially convinced by the apparently sincere regret and sorrow in Wilson's voice. The younger man kept looking back and forth between Wilson and Cuddy, searching for some sign as to who was the one he should believe.
"You know as well as I do that House did not attempt suicide tonight," Cuddy stated, a challenge in her eyes. "And I'm going to prove it. And you're going to stay away from him." She hesitated just a fraction of a second before continuing in a confident, certain voice, "You're on leave as of this moment, Wilson – until the allegations against you can be either proven or disproven."
"What allegations?" Wilson sputtered, outraged. "There are no allegations! House lied! He says he lied! Just because you don't believe him…"
"The police said there would be an investigation. You are at the very least involved in that investigation…" Cuddy said, clearly pleased by the logic in which she had trapped him, "…if only by being the first one to find him." She paused, her voice lowering, her smile fading as she pointed out, "You could have done anything to him in the time it took the paramedics to get there. You are, at the very least, a 'person of interest' in the investigation, and until it's proven just exactly what your role was in the entire thing, you are on paid suspension. And you are not to come on hospital grounds."
Wilson laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You actually think you can keep me away?" he sneered. "I have the right to be here, unless House says I don't…"
"He's incapable of making that decision for himself right now, which leaves it up to his doctor to make it for him…"
"Who's determined that he's incapable?" Wilson challenged, taking an angry step forward.
Something within her snapping, Cuddy stepped forward to meet him, eyes narrowed, as she shot back her reply. "His doctor."
Wilson's right fist twitched at his side, and Cuddy swallowed as she glanced down at it before meeting his eyes again. It was obvious that he wanted to strike her – but she would not back down. Wilson suppressed his rage with an effort, forcing a cold smile.
"That's convenient for you, isn't it, Cuddy?" he sneered. "Gives you all the power. Well, we'll see how long it lasts."
The sound of two approaching security guards drew their attention for a moment, and Wilson self-consciously took a step backward, letting out a heavy sigh, acknowledging defeat…if only for the moment.
"You have no legal grounds to suspend me – paid suspension or otherwise. And once I get word to your superiors about this…this biased, unjust treatment with absolutely no grounds for it…you'll be lucky to mop the floors at this hospital!"
One of the security guards reached for his arm, and Wilson jerked away with a warning glare.
"I can see myself out," he snapped.
As he started down the hall toward the exit, the security guard glanced uncertainly at Cuddy. She nodded her head, indicating for them to let him go. As long as he was leaving, there was no reason to prolong the encounter. Still, there were precautions she needed to take.
"Mr. Fischer," she addressed one of the guards quietly, "follow him. Be sure he actually leaves. And Mr. Duncan…you're officially posted right outside this door. No one but me…" She hesitated. "…and…Drs. Foreman and Chase…are to enter this room." She felt a momentary pang of guilt at the idea of excluding Dr. Cameron, but knew that House would not be happy with the idea of her seeing him so vulnerable.
The guard nodded as he left to get a chair, and Cuddy and Chase just stood there for a moment in silence, watching as Wilson turned the corner at the end of the hall.
"So," Chase began at last, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. "I'm…assuming I'm still employed here, then? Since I'm still on the list?"
"You don't have to work here to visit a patient." Cuddy gave him a sharp glance, a single brow raised.
Chase swallowed hard, eyes large and solemn…obviously unsure as to whether or not she was serious.
Cuddy relented with a rueful smile, adding "But you do. Work here. In spite of allowing the one person that my instructions were designed to prevent getting to House, to get into his room. There's no way you could have known."
Chase nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. "Of course," he suggested in a voice that was cautiously mild and neutral, "next time you want to prevent one specific person from getting to a patient…it might be helpful to name that one specific person."
Cuddy gave him a dark look, but acknowledged her own mistake. "Noted."
They were quiet for another moment, still watching the spot where Wilson had disappeared. After a moment, Chase spoke again, a pensive frown on his face, his head tilted thoughtfully.
"Does Wilson have…a twin? Possibly an evil one?"
Cuddy couldn't suppress a slight smile, pretending to consider the suggestion. "He does have a brother." Her smile faded as she sighed, "No twin, though."
Chase shrugged. "Worth a shot." He turned back toward House's room, nodding to Cuddy as he did. "Come on," he said, giving her a dubious look. "This is one story you're not getting away without telling."