Chapter 35: Family Portrait Pt 2
Ryan's here.
Two completely contradicting emotions took hold of Cuddy at that moment: sheer terror and dangerous anger. Of course she was terrified, Ryan who had tried multiple times to kill House was in her own hospital. But at the same time, she was angry. Insulted. How dare he come here? How could he show up at her hospital and expect her to talk civilly to him? Was this some sort of joke?
"What do you mean Ryan's here? I called Weston last night…" Wilson started.
"I don't know," Cuddy quickly answered. "He wants to…to talk to me about his donation. Why the hell would I want to talk about his donation? Is he insane? I swear to God…"
"He probably doesn't know that you know about his involvement in his latest prank," House said, thinking quickly. He didn't want Cuddy or Wilson to meet him. What he really wanted to do was grab a chainsaw and cut his head off but he'd probably get in trouble. Plus, he didn't have a chainsaw.
"I should go and meet him," Cuddy said, chewing her bottom lip. "Or he'll get suspicious."
"No," House said forcefully. "No, you're not." He looked at Wilson. "Call Weston again, tell her Ryan's here and to get her ass down here."
"I think I should still talk to him, at least to stall," Cuddy said. "Or he'll just leave and we'll lose our chance."
"No, you're not!" House said angrily. He didn't mean for it to come out so forcefully, but he was scared, angry, and quite frankly, pissed off that she was so willing to put herself at risk. "I don't want you to be near him at all."
"I should stall," Wilson suggested.
"No!" Cuddy and House yelled at him.
"It makes sense," Wilson argued. "I'm on the committee so I can make up some story of why we haven't met yet, he doesn't really care about me – he has no reason to hurt me."
"Yet," House added.
"Someone needs to get down there before a nurse tells him where you are," Wilson said. "And then we'll all be screwed."
Damn it, House thought to himself. What Wilson said made sense, and he didn't like the idea of anyone getting anywhere near that maniac.
"Call Weston," House decided. "Tell her to get up here, and Cuddy, send a memo to every security guard in this building to watch Ryan. Tell them not to make it obvious that he's being watched before someone gets killed."
"I'll meet him. I'll keep him busy," Wilson said and he quickly left the room before someone could protest.
"Greg, there's already a security guard outside your room, okay?" Cuddy told him as she stood up. She didn't have time to worry, to be fearful. She needed to get a job done, and she needed to do it fast. "Greg, please don't drive him away, okay?"
"Lisa," he said, trying to calm her down. "It'll be fine. We'll all be fine."
Cuddy nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. She wasn't going to lose him, she told herself. This would be the last time they'd have to deal with Ryan. She was sure of it, and she'd make it happen.
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Cuddy's office
"Mr. Heath," Wilson greeted as soon as he had entered Cuddy's office. Ryan was sitting down on the couch and as soon as Wilson walked in, he stood up and shook his hand.
"I'm not sure if you remember me," Wilson continued. "I'm the oncologist on the board."
"James Wilson," Ryan said, frightening Wilson just that much more. "No, I remember you. Where's Dr. Cuddy?"
Wilson couldn't believe the show Ryan was putting on. What was his plan? Kill off House, donate to the hospital and have a section of the building named after him? What was his motive? Did he think House was already dead? Did he know about the blindness? How much of House's condition did he actually know?
"Dr. Cuddy's…with a colleague," Wilson said, deciding to say the truth, but to remain vague. This way, he avoided suspicion and seemed clueless. "One of the doctors was in an accident a few days ago and she's with him."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Ryan said. If Wilson didn't know any better, he would have mistaken the statement for sincerity. Now he wanted to take Ryan's words and choke him with it.
"But because of the accident, we've been unable to hold a meeting to decide on your donation. The vote's going to be an obvious yes but officially, it just hasn't been possible." Ha! The vote's not even going to happen because you'll be rotting in prison.
And so the conversation continued, with Ryan pretending to be interested, Wilson stalling and then adding silent comments to himself. All the while, security guards stood by all of the hospital's exits and cops from the Princeton Police Department quickly appraoched.
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10 minutes later
House had to pee.
Cuddy had sent him a few messages, updating him on everyone's status. Wilson was fine, security guards were stationed throughout the hospital and Weston was on her way. Everything was working out according to plan. There was no way Ryan could make his way up to the sixth floor of the hospital without someone noticing. House grabbed his IV pole and shuffled out of the room, right past his security guard who was sitting down in a chair outside the room, arms folded across his chest. And he wonders why he gets paid minimum wage, House told himself. He rolled his eyes and made his way down the hall. At least he didn't have to make up a lie or blackmail the man which made House's job easier.
A few minutes later, and his mission was accomplished. See? No big deal. Now he could shuffle back to his room and pretend he hadn't gone anywhere. No one would—
"Turn around," demanded a familiar voice just before House turned the door knob. "Turn around. Slowly…"
Outside Cuddy's office
"Cuddy!" Wilson yelled from the other side of the nurses' station. Cuddy turned around, noticing the frantic tone in his voice.
"What is it?" Cuddy asked, already worried.
"I have no idea where Ryan is," he said. "But the security guards do, right?"
"You lost him!?" Cuddy almost yelled. "How could you lose him?"
"He wanted a document from the hearing," Wilson explained. "I told him to wait in your office, went to pick it up and when I came back he was gone. I was only gone for thirty seconds – he just disappeared--"
"It's alright, we'll find him. He couldn't have gone far. And House is in his room." Cuddy tried to reassure Wilson, knowing he was probably killing himself inside. "Look, you go back to House's room, make sure everything's fine there. I'm going to wait here for Weston."
"Alright," Wilson said before running to catch the next elevator.
Sixth floor, Men's Restroom
"Turn around. Slowly…"
House complied, cursing his life. He couldn't even pee in goddamn peace. He found himself looking down the barrel of a handgun but noticed that the fear he was so used to experiencing in these situations hadn't dawned on him with full force…just yet.
"You know, you're impossible to get rid of, you know that?" Ryan said with the straightest face ever. And yet, he looked almost annoyed.
"Why the hell do you look so pissed off?" House said, unbelievingly. "You're not the one staring down the wrong end of a gun."
The gun clicked and House had a feeling he had chosen the wrong combination of words. Oops.
"You never know when to shut up, do you?"
"So I've been told," House said, thinking about all the other times a gun, knife or other relatively harmful object was pointed at him.
"I hate you," Ryan said, and House didn't question the statement. Hatred seeped out of his eyes. "I've always hated you."
"I don't even know you," House retaliated angrily. "And quite frankly I don't like you very much either."
"And that's--" Ryan said as he stepped closer to House, slamming the gun into his right temple. "—why I hate you."
Shit, House thought to himself. Okay, okay, time to stall. Beg for forgiveness and feign remorse? No – totally out of character, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Kick him in the nuts? No, because then Ryan's finger would jump and House would finally have his one way ticket to the gates of hell.
So House decided on a more…unconventional approach (or, perhaps, conventional considering it was House). "You better give me a better explanation before you blow my head off," House told him, trying to mask his fear with annoyance. "Because if you don't I swear to God…or Satan…that I will haunt you."
Ryan seemed to consider it and House knew he had already won. "It sounds fair to me," House said. "And I'm the one about to lose my head."
"You're pushing it, you know that?" Ryan said, the gun still pressed on House's head.
Idiot, House thought. That was the problem with these guys – their ego was fifty times larger than their IQ. At least for House his ego and IQ were at about the same level.
"Besides," Ryan said, cocking the gun. "You do know me."
"I'm bad with faces," House half joked, trying not to roll his eyes.
"Oh, come on, Greg," Ryan said, smiling, finally easing up on the gun. "You forget even your own family?"
Downstairs, PPTH
Cuddy's phone started ringing just as she spotted three police squad cars pull up into PPTH. She quickly pulled out her phone and answered – it was Wilson.
"What?" Cuddy asked as she stepped outside, quickly explaining the situation to Weston and her team.
"House isn't in his room," Wilson spat out frantically. "And the security guard outside passed out on a chair."
Her heart stopped in her chest and for a moment, she completely forgot how to breathe. House was missing. Again.
"Lisa?"
"What happened to the guard?" Cuddy asked, trying to remain focused, relaying the information once more to Weston.
"I don't know, he's unconscious – I think it might be Ryan."
"Of course it's Ryan, damn it!" Cuddy screamed, and was immediately sorry for her outburst. "God, I'm sorry, Wilson – listen, I want the entire hospital put under lockdown immediately…"
Sixth floor, Men's Restroom
"Oh, come on, Greg," Ryan said, smiling, finally easing up on the gun. "You forget even your own family?"
House wasn't sure if he was serious or if he was trying to push his buttons. Was he supposed to be his long lost cousin or something? What was the point of this? Why was he jerking him around? The first thing House said in response to this new revelation was: "Don't call me Greg."
Then after about half a second, he decided to add. "And I still have no idea who you are."
"Of course…you didn't know I was family…just a friend of the family, right?"
"Listen, I have no idea who the hell you are!" House yelled angrily and in an instant, he felt the cold metal of the gun press into his temple once more.
"I wouldn't yell if I were you," Ryan warned him. "Because then I'll shoot you sky high earlier than your time. Got it?"
House stared him down, biting his tongue to keep him from saying anything.
"Come on, House," Ryan taunted. "Ryan's not a familiar name? Well, I guess not Ryan Heath…but Ryan Andrews might be…what, you don't remember the Andrews? We lived on your street in New Jersey!"
Andrews…yeah, so he recognized the name. But what was that supposed to mean? If his last name had been…say Raskolnikov or Szalcowski, then he'd say he was on to something.
"But you were never in the States for very long were you, thanks to your dad. But my dad and I did follow you to Egypt on that one trip. It's how I got my idea for your poisoning – the castor beans from Egypt. It turns out your boss ended up with the damn poisoning but the idea was poetic, nonetheless."
Castor beans, Egypt and Ryan Andrews. No, not Ryan. Ryan was his nickname…
"Richard?" House checked.
"Hey, Greg," Ryan said, smirking.
Don't call me Greg, you creep. Ryan was the son of House's dad's best friend. To be completely honest, House never liked the kid and had only talked to him when absolutely necessary – like when his dad forced him to. House's dad liked Ryan – Ryan caught up with the military life style. Hell, he actually enjoyed it. House had always preferred the city life and music…pretty much anything his dad disapproved of. House had figured that was another reason his dad really hated him; because he wished he had Ryan – the military brat who actually liked it.
The problem was, that still didn't explain why Ryan hated him so much. House hated him, why would it work the other way around?
"What the hell did I do to you?" House asked, honestly considering shoving his IV pole up his ass. "I didn't even like you."
"I hated you."
"Well, that much is obvious."
Ryan slammed the side of his gun into House's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. He managed to catch himself on the sinks behind him but couldn't help but be surprised at the blow. He hadn't anticipated this 'warm up' session.
"I hated you because you had everything I wanted!" Ryan exploded, shaking the gun angrily. "Your mom paid attention to you. Blythe loved you. My mom? She blew her head sky high because of what Blythe did. And as if that wasn't bad enough, your dad liked me, but was stuck with you.
"My life wasn't fair because of you. It was never fair so it was that much harder. Blythe drove my mom to suicide, John wanted nothing to do with you and I couldn't help but think 'You don't deserve anything in that house.' Because half of what you had wasn't yours!"
What the hell is he talking about? House wanted to just decide that he was insane and write it all off as psychosis, but in everything he said, he found truth. John, House's dad, hated House. That much was obvious – but he got along with Ryan. House remembered cursing Ryan every time John House even mentioned his name, or applauded something he had done or said. And he remembered the aggravated and disappointed glares he would receive from his father afterwards. Yet, it was Ryan who was jealous – because he felt that he deserved John more than House did.
Well, Ryan could have that son of a bitch for all he cared.
But it was what Ryan said at the end that struck home for House. Half of what you had wasn't yours. And why was that?
Because John wasn't House's biological father.
Of course, House had no tangible proof, but he had figured it out when he was twelve, picking up a few things here and there. But the one thing that had started his suspicion was the similar birthmark on a certain friend of the family: Ryan's dad.
But even though House had what he had then called 'proof', he didn't dwell on the information. Sure, he had wondered what it would have been like if he called Ryan's father 'dad' but it had just been a possibility. Something to contemplate every now and then. He had never thought of Ryan as a relation. Even at that young age, nothing was definitive unless he had proof, and he couldn't very well run a DNA test in the middle of Egypt.
But now was no time for contemplation. Now he was faced with facts all at once. What he had once thought of as a possibility was now reality. Ryan's father was House's father.
Which made Ryan...
Oh, shit.
Ryan was his stepbrother.
My life sucks.
Sixth floor, nurses' station
By the time the elevator doors opened for Cuddy and Weston to step out onto the sixth floor, the entire hospital was already under lockdown. The police were searching the entire hospital and were determined to find not only House, but Ryan as well. Wilson was waiting for the elevator just as the doors opened for Cuddy. She almost screamed in surprise, not expecting someone to be waiting.
"Jesus, Wilson," she gasped, holding her head as she stepped out.
"Sorry," he said quickly. "Have they found anyone?"
"We're still searching, but I assure you, it's impossible for either of them to leave the hospital," Weston told him. "We'll find them. Both."
Sixth floor, Men's Restroom
My life sucks.
"Kinda crazy how everything works out, isn't it?" Ryan taunted.
"So what's your point?!" House said, still not entirely sure why he had to be included in the picture. "I never liked my dad; you can have him for all I care!"
"Yeah, well it's too late for that," Ryan said, aiming his gun, preparing to fire.
"So you're jealous," House tried to rationalize. "My life sucked too if that's any consolation."
"My mother shot herself because of that bitch you call your mother!"
What House did next probably wasn't the smartest decision of his entire life, but he couldn't care any less. His hand formed a fist and he swung, punching Ryan squarely in the jaw. Ryan could call John any derogatory name or term known to man, but the same wasn't true concerning his mother. Besides, who wouldn't cheat on that cow House was forced to call his father?
Ryan was stunned, finding it impossible to believe that House had just punched him. At that moment, Ryan was done with him. He didn't need to explain himself to this son of a bitch. House's simple existence had torn his family apart, and driven Ryan crazy, knowing that what House had wasn't really his. He pointed his gun for the last time, determined to finish this, once and for all.
Just before he pulled the trigger, he heard talking, just outside the doors. Ryan listened, but he could only point out one of the voices – Cuddy's. Ryan's plan was to wait until they were far enough away so he could do away with House and escape through a different restroom door but he noticed House's expression change. House looked anxious now, uneasy and his breathing had quickened. This wasn't just fear, or annoyance. Something had changed. Ryan glanced at the door again, and then back at House who was now watching the door carefully.
"Who's out there?" Ryan asked him, knowing the answer.
"No one," House said quickly, eyeing the gun pointed at him.
"Who's Cuddy?"
"My…boss…"
"Who's she to you?" Ryan asked again, smirking. Oh, this was getting good.
"You like her?" Ryan insisted, motioning at the door with his gun. The simple movement caused House to flinch and at once, Ryan knew he had the answer he wanted.
"Do you love her?" What he was doing to House was on the brink of torture now.
"She did nothing to you, why does it matter?" House said instead, even though he knew that might as well have been an answer.
"Because she…just might save your life."
House wasn't sure if that was a good thing. What did that mean? Was he proposing an exchange? One life for another? Oh, hell, no…
Is someone in here? There was a sharp rap on the door and then the jiggling of the door handle. Cuddy. And the locked doors were proof that someone was in there.
No, Cuddy, don't come in here! Leave! House practically begged. Please, don't come in here, please…
"Do you love her, House?" Ryan asked, smiling as he pointed the gun at the door. "Do you?"
"House?" Cuddy called out. "House, are you in there?" The jiggling of the door handle became increasingly frenzied. "Damn it! Greg? Greg!"
Lisa, don't do this, don't come in here. House didn't know how to answer Ryan. What would happen if he said yes? Would he use it as an opportunity to push him over the limit and shoot Cuddy? Or if he said no would he use it against him and shoot her anyway? What was the right answer?
"Answer me, damn it!" Ryan yelled, knowing he was being heard.
"Ryan, this is Detective Weston! Open this door immediately or I will shoot it down!"
Ryan hadn't known there was a detective on the other side, which meant he had only a few seconds to act.
"I'll take your silence as a no, Greg," Ryan said and with that, he took a step back, and aimed.
"No, stop!" House yelled, about to tackle him down, but he had already fired. But one shot wasn't enough. Ryan fired again, and again, and again…
Sixth floor, outside Men's Restroom
"House!" Cuddy screamed just as she heard House scream. Less than a millisecond afterwards, she heard the first gunshot and the bullet exploded through the wall, missing Cuddy, Weston and Wilson by meters.
"Greg! No!" Cuddy screamed, still trying to open the door. Weston pulled her back away from the door just as a full squad of police officers filled the halls. Weston continued to hold back Cuddy who was still screaming while Wilson continued banging the door, trying to get it open himself until one of the officers pulled him away also. And as all this happened, shots were fired inside the restroom one after another without ceasing.
"Greg! Greg! You have to stop it! Greg!"
Again, the shots continued, almost never ending and Cuddy knew they were aimed at Greg – and that the shots were finding their target.
"No!"
Another shot, but this one was fired by the police. The door swung open and the police quickly filed in, prepared to shoot if necessary. Cuddy broke away from Weston and ran into the restroom, praying that there had been some sort of miracle.
She wasn't prepared at all for what she saw.
Gunshot holes decorated the entire restroom. The glass mirror had been shot at least five or six times so glass was everywhere. There were holes from the bullets all over the place – but no Ryan and no blood.
"House?"
"He's right here," One of the officers yelled out and Cuddy quickly made her way towards the voice.
House was on the floor, the upper half of his body curled up under the sinks. Cuddy bent down, unsure of his condition and felt a sharp incision on her palm – glass.
"Greg?" She was sure her heart would explode. She didn't know what to expect anymore. Was he alive? Dead? She got her answer when he slowly turned his head to face her. His upper arm had been covering his face and she noticed that his arm looked like small but sharp razor blades had cut him and that there were even a few pieces of glass stuck in his arm. His blue eyes glanced around uneasily as if to check if the coast was clear. His eyes landed on Cuddy's face, streaked with tears and masked with fear.
"Greg…"
"Hey, Lise," he whispered, overjoyed that she was okay. He wanted to hold her, but the glass everywhere was prickling his skin and he didn't want to get any of it on her.
"Oh, God…we're going to get you out of here…where's Ryan?"
"I don't know…he went out the back--" House said, trying to remember something that had only happened moments ago.
"He's cornered," Weston explained as the officers quickly filed out, listening in on the pursuit on her earpiece. "He's on his way to the interstate and we have three officers in pursuit."
"Let's get him out of here," Wilson said, grateful that House was fine and he quickly left to bring over a gurney.
House's breathing was just beginning to slow down, knowing that Ryan wasn't even in the building anymore. The police were after him, he was cornered. It was over.
"Lisa…?"
"Yeah?"
He chuckled dryly but weakly, as he thought of something. "And all…I wanted to do…was use the bathroom…"
Cuddy didn't know what exactly she was feeling at that moment, but she laughed with him too at first. But eventually, those laughs turned into heart wrenching sobs of relief and joy, knowing for certain that House was going to be fine.
So…I definitely didn't even realize how…er… 'cheesy'…this idea was until I typed out 'Ryan's father was House's father'. Now I feel like slapping myself. Nevertheless, I have some ideas of where to take this new idea in the long run even after we're done with Ryan. So even if you're thinking 'I can't believe you did this, writingmonkey10' I'll make it worthwhile.
So many questions remain…So why didn't Ryan shoot House or Cuddy? Hmmm….? What does the hospital think is going on? What does the team think?
And yes, we are almost done with Ryan. Like…super almost done. House has been kidnapped/almost killed more than enough times. I think he deserves a break. A really long break…like forever…or whenever I decide his break was long enough, whichever comes first ;)
Review on your way out please. Feel free to chastise me for not updating in so long ;)
Song Credit: Family Portrait by P!nk