"Can I help you with something?"
Cuddy slowly straightened to her feet, wide eyes locked onto Wilson's in a trapped, guilty expression. Ironically, Wilson did not appear to feel the least bit of either, despite the fact that he was keeping his best friend a prisoner, chained up in his basement. Wilson was giving her that familiar, disarming smile she had come to know so well during the years he had spent working for her.
And how long has it been nothing more than a lie?
She glanced to the side at the fence that seemed to dissect the house, separating the front yard from the back yard. There was a gate just a few yards away, through which she could make her escape and get to her car – if it was unlocked. There was also the back door, just a few short steps away. If she could get through it and lock Wilson out, she might be able to make it out through the front door before he could get to her.
But if he just goes around to the front door, he'll beat me there for sure, and then I'll be trapped inside…
She put on her most pleasant smile, just in case there was still a chance of slipping away without his trying to stop her.
Maybe he didn't see me looking… maybe I can convince him…
She took a cautious, backward step toward the fence as she spoke in what she hoped was a calm, casual tone. "I was looking for you," she explained. "I saw your car, but you… you didn't answer the front door, so I came around back."
Wilson returned her calm smile, though his was cold and frightening. "Funny. I didn't hear you knock. On either door."
Cuddy took another, more obvious step toward the gate as Wilson stepped toward her. Her heart sank as she noted his wider strides bringing him nearer to the gate than she was. His smile took on a knowing air, and she knew that he was deliberately blocking her path. She took another tentative step, then stopped, spinning around to face him when Wilson moved directly between her and the gate.
"I did knock," she insisted, her voice trembling despite her desperate attempt to keep it calm and steady. "I don't know, maybe you were busy inside. Were you running the water, or watching television, or…? Something? Because I knocked, and you didn't answer, so…"
She was babbling. She knew she was, and she knew that he knew as well.
She was trying so hard to make him believe that she'd seen nothing, that everything was normal; but deep down, Cuddy knew that it was already far too late for that. There was a predatory gleam in his Wilson's eyes as he took a step backward, bracing his back against the gate – blocking her in.
"No, I wasn't," he informed her softly. "I would have heard you… if you'd knocked."
Her heart hammering in her chest, her mind screaming at her to somehow escape, Cuddy stumbled backward toward the back door, the only route to safety left to her, as she continued talking, trying desperately to appease Wilson… or perhaps just to distract him.
"I just… needed to talk to you about something, but… but now I… can't seem to remember, so… I'll just go…"
Wilson advanced on her too quickly for her to escape, catching her at the base of the steps, taking hold of her arms in a grasp that was firm and unyielding, yet surprisingly gentle. There was something regretful and resigned in his dark eyes as he gave her a sad smile and spoke softly.
"I think you know I can't let you do that."
She stared up at him, still disbelieving that this was really Wilson, standing there so calm and controlled, yet holding onto her and refusing to let her leave. She shook her head in confusion, the useless pretense falling away as she spoke in a hushed, horrified tone.
"What's happened to you? I… I don't understand…"
Wilson's smile faded into a solemn, troubled expression, his hands tightening slightly on her arms as he shook his head. "There's no way you could possibly understand this." He hesitated, biting his lower lip with the first trace of uncertainty she had seen in him yet, as he looked away with a frustrated frown. "I… I'm doing what I have to do. To protect him."
In hindsight, she knew it was not wise. At the moment, she couldn't help it.
She laughed.
"Protect him?" she echoed, a brittle, disbelieving sound in her voice. "He's chained up on his knees in your basement! Have you even thought for a second about what that's doing to his leg? He had an infarction before; what if he has another one? Have you even considered the circulatory problems you might be creating by keeping him there like that? You can't just…"
She was startled to silence by pain as Wilson abruptly released one arm, just to strike her across the face in furious frustration. "Stop it!" he hissed in restrained rage. "Just shut up! You don't understand!"
He jerked her roughly toward the back door, his former gentleness and sympathy vanishing into defensive fury. Well aware that once he got her through that door, her chances of escape would be dramatically reduced, Cuddy let out a scream as she struggled to break his grip, in the process causing him to lose his balance so that they both toppled to the ground.
Alarmed, Wilson tried to get a hand over her mouth, tried to turn her over so that he could get a better grip on her; but Cuddy was not willing to go quietly. She fought him with all her strength, calling out for help as she did. Wilson tried to focus on keeping her silent, clearly afraid of what might happen if she managed to draw the attention of his neighbors.
And that gave her the opening she needed.
Cuddy brought a knee up sharply between Wilson's legs, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction when he let out a groan of pain and doubled over, losing his grip on her completely. She shoved him off her with a great effort, scrambling to her feet and racing for the gate. It was indeed locked, but Wilson was still struggling just to get to his knees, moaning as he clutched at his injured genitals with both hands.
Cuddy ran for the back door, rushing through the house and toward the front door. She paused in the hallway, stricken with sudden, terrified indecision. The basement door she had tried to open before was chained shut once more, and she knew it would take her longer than she had to get it open. Still, she couldn't resist the impulse to rush to the door and pull at the chains, desperate to get to her friend.
House… I can't just leave him here…
She hesitated, glancing back toward the rear of the house. There was no sign of Wilson – yet – but she knew there was no way she could get down to the basement and get House unchained and out before Wilson could catch up to them, no matter how much pain she'd left him in.
I can't help him if Wilson catches me…
A wordless moan of fury and pain reached her ears, followed by a chilling roar filled with wild, thoughtless rage. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you stupid bitch!"
Her heart lurched within her, but the knowledge that Wilson was coming made the painful decision for her. Her cell phone was in the car, and the police could do what she could not. The best thing she could do for House right now was to make sure that she got out of this place alive, and was able to let someone know where he was and what was happening to him.
She raced through the house until she reached the front door, slamming it behind her and running with all her strength down the street to the place where she'd parked her car. Her hands scrabbled clumsily at the door for a panicked moment before she managed to get it open and get inside, immediately locking herself in.
Her wide, fearful eyes looked back toward Wilson's house to see if he was coming after her, but there was no sign of him as she turned on the engine and pulled away from the curb, heading back toward town and the nearest police station. As she drove, she picked up her phone and dialed 9-1-1.
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"
Her voice was trembling but impressively controlled as she gave the operator the address where she had found House, and tried to be reasonably coherent in telling her what she had discovered. It was only once she had hung up the phone that she realized there were tears rolling down her face.
Oh, House… I'm so sorry… but I'm not abandoning you… I'll get you out of there, I promise…
***************************
House heard the sounds of screaming from outside the house, though it was difficult to make out who exactly was screaming. He listened to the sound of racing footsteps across the floor above him – and then those footsteps suddenly went still. When he heard the frantic rattling of the door above him, House's heart sank. Despite his desperate desire to be free of this place, he knew that Cuddy would not be able to help him.
No, don't, just go, damn it, just go!
As if she had somehow heard him, the sound suddenly stopped. A few moments later, however, House heard Wilson's furious voice, heard louder footsteps making their way across the same floor Cuddy had just crossed. He held his breath, dread filling him as he waited for the outcome he was helpless to affect.
A few moments later, he heard the sound of Wilson's key in the lock upstairs, and froze with fear, his mouth dry and his heart racing. Wilson's footsteps were heavy and erratic as he approached House, then crouched beside him and unfastened the chain that attached his bound wrists to the floor behind him. With one hand Wilson roughly tore the blindfold from House's head, as he jerked him to his feet with the other.
Blinking against the sudden brightness, House cringed from Wilson's violent anger, venturing in a shaky, uncertain voice, "Wilson, what… what happened?"
An unexpected blow caught him across the face, knocking him back down to the floor. With dizzying speed, Wilson yanked him back up again, slamming him against the stone wall, painfully smashing his bound hands between it and House's body. House winced as Wilson grabbed his hair, leaning in close to hiss menacingly into his ear.
"You are going to keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it, is that clear?"
House nodded hurriedly, sick with fear and uncertainty as Wilson shook him slightly and continued.
"One sound out of you and you won't be able to move for a week, do you understand me?"
House nodded again, swallowing hard, struggling against the compulsion to speak, if only to apologize or plead with Wilson. However, despite the urge to do so, he knew that those things would only further infuriate his captor.
He wanted to ask about Cuddy, wanted to make sure she was okay; but he was afraid that asking about her would only bring Wilson's wrath upon him, when Wilson found out that House had known she was there. Perhaps he knew already, and simply hadn't mentioned it yet. Judging by his unwarranted fury and violence with House thus far, that seemed a likely scenario.
Wilson strode quickly to a far corner of the room, picking up a pile of wadded up clothes that House barely recognized as his own anymore. He brought them back to where House stood against the wall, trembling and too terrified to move. Wilson unchained House's wrists before thrusting the clothes into his shaky, numb hands, issuing orders in a harsh, impatient voice.
"Get dressed. Quickly."
House did his best to obey, but his weary, misused limbs were nearly useless after hours bound behind him to the floor. After a few moments, Wilson roughly jerked the clothes away from him and put them on him himself, muttering darkly under his breath in irritation. House did his best to cooperate with Wilson's attempts, terrified of angering him by any perceived resistance.
When House was dressed, Wilson dragged him toward the stairs, being none-too-gentle as he urgently led him up them and toward the front door. His car was parked in the driveway, just a few short yards away, so there was little hope that any of their somewhat distant neighbors would notice anything wrong as Wilson maneuvered him toward it.
Leaving his wrists cuffed behind his back, Wilson fastened House's safety belt across his lap in the passenger side of the car before going around and getting into the driver's seat. His hands were shaking as he started the engine, glancing around him with wary, paranoid eyes before pulling out onto the street.
"We've got to get out of here," was the only explanation he offered as he glanced anxiously into the rearview mirror. "It isn't safe here anymore."