Chapter 2 Immovable Object
Nervous tension filled the entire room. The crowd of thirty or so captives barely breathed as two of the armed men stalked up and down the group of detainees, watching for any sign of dissent. The third man berated the pharmacist for his slow progress. "Come on, come on. Hurry up!" He ranted. "Get a move on, you idiot." Under the constant stream of comments and the gun pointed at him, the pharmacist panicked, his shaking hands knocked over a display, which set off a cascade reaction, causing tens of bottles to tumble behind the counter. Unable to contain his fury, the armed man raised the butt of his rifle and slammed it into the grovelling man's face as he desperately stuttered apologies. He fell to the floor, his hands clutched to his bleeding head.
The crowd shifted again. One person pushed her way to the front. "Hey! Don't you touch him." Cuddy shouted, squaring her shoulders, and looking unflinchingly at the volatile man with the gun, as her pharmacist lay on the floor groaning in pain. The armed man whipped around to confront the owner of the voice, but his snarl turned to a slow, lazy grin as he realised who the source of the voice was.
"What did you say to me?" He smirked, taking her in appreciatively.
Dawning realisation hit her as he looked her up and down, his leer predatory. "He's doing his best. You don't need to hurt him." Her voice lacked the conviction of her earlier command as he took a step towards her.
"I tell you what, why don't you come over and check him out, if you're so concerned? Make sure he's ok." Cuddy hesitated, caught between her need to protect her staff and her fear of the man before her and the growing hunger in his eyes. "Come on, I promise I won't hurt you." He sing-songed.
Casting a wary eye over at the man lying bleeding and trembling on the cold floor, she took a small step forward, but immediately found her way barred as someone sidestepped in front of her. "Oh, You don't want her. She's not even a real doctor." A loud, obnoxious voice announced.
The armed man's face hardened as he eyed House, taking in his height and his apparent lack of concern for his situation. "If you know what's good for you, you'll back away." The man with the gun snarled.
Unperturbed, House continued. "If you really want a doctor there's a ton of white coats here for you to choose from and they have the added benefit of actually knowing what they're doing."
Furious at having been ignored, the armed man whirled to face the room, searching for his co-conspirators. He whistled sharply and the younger of the two men broke away from the hostages, jogging to join the leader. "Kenny, go fetch her for me." He commanded, gesturing at Cuddy with his gun.
The nervous young man flinched, looking from the attractive woman to the tall man standing protectively in front of her, a menacing snarl plastered on his face. "But you said this would just be a quick job. In and out, done and dusted." Fear crept into his voice as he realised what this could mean for the job. The man with the gun stepped towards him, his finger sweeping over to the trigger. The younger man quailed. "Ok Billy." He squeaked, moving towards the woman. "Whatever you say."
His path to his goal was inevitably blocked as the towering, imposing man stubbornly remained in front of her, guarding her from the men. "Out of the way." Kenny demanded, but his voice trembled slightly, giving away his fear. House looked at him, then immediately dismissed the shorter man. He turned again to the leader, studying him, trying to determine how far this man was willing to go to get what he wanted. He didn't like what he saw.
"Kenny." The warning in Billy's voice was clear. Kenny raised his bat in front of him and shuffled around House to grab Cuddy's arm, pulling her roughly towards him. House grabbed her other arm, jerking her away.
House levelled his gaze on the young man, menace in his face. "Kenny, if that is your real name, touch her and you lose a finger." Kenny hesitated a moment, blanching under the intimidating presence of the taller man looming over him.
"Kenny!" Billy repeated, the note of warning in his voice made it all too apparent what would happen if Kenny failed. House continued to stare down at him, a hint of mocking on his face.
He took a step forward and raised the bat up in warning. The man in front of him smirked, his arrogance all too apparent. He had judged the young man in front of him and found him wanting. Kenny felt something in him harden at that moment. People had underestimated him his whole life, they climbed over him as they tried to rise to the top, they laughed at his every failure, they ground his face into the mud. But every time he was knocked down, he got back up again. He pulled them down into the filth after him, he silenced their sounds of derision, he wiped the mud from his face and hurled his attackers down at his feet. Bracing himself, he drew the weapon down, gave a warning look, then brought it up sharply, connecting with the man's smug grin.
House staggered backwards with a surprised grunt and his leg gave out. He fell heavily to the floor crumpling in a heap. For a brief moment there wasn't a sound in the whole room, then as one, people looked from the man on the floor to the young man with the bat and pulled away from him, some crying out in alarm, others uttered exclamations of shock, anger or surprise.
As House recovered Kenny circled his hand around Cuddy's arm and again roughly pulled her towards him. Another man wearing a white coat approached him, his hands held out in front of him, his floppy brown hair partially obscured brows that were knitted together in concern, a picture of supplication. "Please, you don't need to do this." Wilson's large brown eyes were furrowed in panic. "Please, just let her go." Acting on instinct now, Kenny launched the tip of his bat into the man's stomach, he dropped too. The crowd parted further, allowing him to drag Cuddy over to his boss.
Billy smiled as his prize was brought to him. "You did good little brother." He patted him on the shoulder, "We're almost done here. Keep an eye on them." He gestured his head towards the crowd. Then he turned to locate his other partner. "Pete, start working on the door, we want a clean exit." Business done, he turned towards the woman in front of him and allowed his fingertips to trace slowly down her arm, looking at her hungrily. "You feel like keeping me company while we take a little trip, sweetheart? Keep the cops off our back?" He cooed softly to her. Cuddy tried to pull away from his touch, but he hauled her roughly back towards him, his face hardening, his fingers clenched tightly around her upper arms.
House began to move on the floor, he brought a hand up to wipe away blood as it trickled from his split lip and over his chin. He struggled onto all fours, spitting dark blood onto the linoleum. Casting the other men an appraising look he began to pull himself slowly to his feet. "You don't wanna do that. You won't like what you find, ya know… down there." Billy looked over and saw the man from earlier on his feet, a ragged cut dividing his lip, blood dripping down his chin and staining his rumpled shirt front. "You know, cos she's a dude." He continued. "You can tell by the way she's standing. Don't worry, she's had plenty of guys fooled." He turned to the crowd behind him, "they know what I mean." He said gesturing to a clump of nervous doctors near the back of the group, trying to make themselves inconspicuous.
Kenny, sensing trouble from the bleeding man, approached him again, his bat raised threateningly. "Down Skippy" House said. Then used his long arms and the element of surprise to his advantage and reached out before the bat could get close, placed his hand on the man's chest and pushed hard, sending the startled young man sprawling over backwards, the bat colliding with the floor with a thunderous crack.
Again, the group gasped as one, processing what the unstable diagnostician just did. He heard his name called in warning from Wilson as the oncologist crouched gasping on the floor, his arms cradling his tender stomach. House ignored them all. He turned back to Billy as if nothing had happened and continued. "I'm a dude too. And I have the added advantage of at least looking like one. What you see is what you get." Then all traces of mocking left his voice. "Take me instead."
Billy looked at him appraisingly. Then nodded to Kenny who had scrambled to his feet, waiting for his moment, his bat raised in front of him. The wooden club connected hard. House fell heavily again. He heard Cuddy shout something unintelligible as blood began to spurt from his nose this time. Tears obscured his vision for a moment, he blinked them away and rolled onto his front before again preparing to drag himself to his feet. He felt a hand on his shoulder, a warning from some unknown colleague or bystander, but shrugged it off angrily, before hauling himself upright again, swaying slightly as the world threatened to tip him over. He used his wrist to wipe some of the liquid dripping down his face. Once the dizziness passed, he eyeballed Kenny, who was now breathing heavily, his body tense, ready to strike again.
House then turned to look behind him, his gaze sweeping the crowd assembled behind him, locking eyes with those few who hadn't lowered their heads to face the floor. Foreman held his gaze for a moment before shaking his head in warning. Every other eye he met looked away in shame. "Are you all just going to let this happen?" He questioned; disbelief clear in his voice.
Finally, his gaze settled on Wilson, still crouched on the floor his arms wrapped protectively around his bruised stomach. House looked into him and what he received in return was fear, fear for Lisa Cuddy and fear for what his best friend was going to do next. Wilson lowered his hands to the floor and began to lever himself to his feet. A ghost of a smile played over House's bloodied lips at Wilson's loyalty, but faded quickly as he assessed the situation. There was nothing his friend could do to improve the unfolding events. He couldn't risk Wilson getting hurt as well. What he needed was a lot more allies. Quickly devising a plan, House warned his friend off with his own shake of his head. Wilson eyed him, confused and began pushing himself up again. House shook his head harder.
Both men locked eyes for a moment before registering the sound of a whistle coming from Billy, who had summoned the third man before saying something in low tones which made Cuddy beg, desperately pleading with him. "Please, you don't have to do this. He's just trying to get a rise from you. I'll go with you. I promise. Please just leave him alone." The words distracted House for a moment, just long enough for the bat to blindside him, connecting with his bruised face for a third time.
He lay still for a few long moments, stunned by the sudden attack, long enough for Billy to load the last of the pills into his bag. The leader then gathered the bags and grabbed Cuddy's wrist violently, preparing to leave when House began to move again. Dizzy for a moment he blinked, trying to ground his vision. He tried to roll over to his front again, but his limbs refused to obey at first. His second attempt was more successful. Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise in his throat, he began trying to gain purchase on the smooth floor, searching for something he could use to lever himself up. Distantly, he heard Cuddy's voice call out, "House, please. Don't get up." How could he stay down? As soon as he saw Billy eyeing her hungrily, he knew how this would end for her, everyone in the room did. He, for one, couldn't let that happen. Bracing his left foot on the floor he dragged his lower body up, gaining hold with his hands, he began the slow process of once again hauling himself jerkily to his feet, staggering backwards a few paces once he was up. Hands from the crowd shot out and steadied him, circling his arms to try to keep him from more punishment.
"House, you need to stop." Foreman told him in low tones.
Chase held his other arm. "Don't do this. They're gonna kill you." He whispered softly, terrified.
Fury shot through him; how could he trade Cuddy's life for his? "No!" He roared, shaking himself loose, and staggering forwards. He began to limp clumsily towards Cuddy, his eyes not leaving her terrified face. Without thinking she took a couple of steps towards him, trying to show him she was ok, she could handle the situation and she once again felt the rough hand pulling her savagely back.
"I'll tell you when you can go!" Billy ground out ferociously, spittle flying from his mouth. He had not anticipated the trouble they had found at this little clinic. Frustration, and a gnawing fear that they had already stayed too long, made him suddenly furious. He pulled his arm back and viciously backhanded her, sending the Dean flying towards the floor.
Again, the crowd gasped, but no one moved to back up House, who continued to limp forwards unsteadily, his vision greying at the edges. His leg gave off bursts of white-hot pain, enraged at its mistreatment. His head throbbing sickeningly, causing him to sway again, nearly toppling over once more. Sticky, cloying blood oozed down the back of his throat. He ignored it all, the only thought in his head now was getting to the couple before him and making Billy pay for what he had done, and what he intended to do.
Kenny stalked him, allowing a few more faltering steps before he swung his bat back ready to strike. Pete was suddenly at his side and put a halting hand on arm of the young man with the bat. He looked appraisingly at the bloodied man in front of him, holding himself up with sheer force of will. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun, drew the hammer back with smooth, practised ease and rose it until it was pointed square at the man's head.
House took in the gun, fury bubbling in his chest he raised a bloodstained hand extending his middle finger. "Fuck you!" He spat at the men, blood flying from his dripping lips. Then whirled to face his friends, colleagues and patients, pointing accusingly at them, "and fuck you too." He spat, disgust oozing from every word. He turned back to Kenny. "Hey you." He looked at the younger man and smiled, blood coating his broken smile. "My turn!" And pulled his arm back, swinging his fist into the younger man's face.
Kenny staggered and fell but was caught by his friend, who roughly righted him and pushed him back into the fight. Once more the bat collided with the delicate bones of House's face. Both men then rushed in as he landed with a boneless thud and began to kick him in a savage, relentless flurry until another whistle sounded. "That's enough boys, it's time to go. Pete, you know what to do." Billy's cold voice announced, walking slowly backwards, Cuddy pulled close to his body. Composing himself, Pete pulled the younger man away.
Pete again levelled his gun at the head of the man on the floor. He's finger found the trigger. Slowly he began to exert a little pressure when movement caught his eye. A tall, dark figure approached him. "You don't wanna do that." The man said in a calm, even voice. The gunman raised his eyes to see a white coat. The man wearing it looked angry but determined. He was flanked by two other doctors, the rest of the crowd seemed to have moved closer as well. "Look around you, there's a lot more of us than you. You kill him and we'll be on you in a heartbeat. Do you wanna take that chance?" Not a hint of fear could be heard in Foreman's voice as he spoke to the men in front of him. The gunman hesitated, looking at the many angry faces lining the wall. When he heard Kenny back away, he knew they had lost.
As he pulled his gun back in a gesture of submission, he saw from the corner of his eye a second group approach Billy. "You can go. Take the pills if you need to, but she's staying with us." Wilson's voice was full of conviction, seemingly unphased by the gun that was trained on him. Billy took half a step towards the man, unwilling to let his prize go so easily. But the edges of his vision spotted the moving, restless crowd. He turned to study the people around him and the steely looks in their eyes. Unnerved, he backed away, lowering the gun slightly. Wilson immediately wound his arm around Cuddy's waist protectively and drew her towards him. Thirteen and Taub stood at either side of him. As a group they moved together drawing back into the safety of the crowd. Making it clear they didn't intend to interfere with the trio any further.
Billy, Kenny and Pete exchanged wary glances and slowly backed towards to the door, their eyes on the group lining the back of the lobby. Kenny struggled to open the door in his panic, slamming into it twice with his body before Pete reached behind him and released it. Then they all slipped out into the bright daylight.
At once there was a flurry of movement. Cuddy slid to the floor, her decent slowed by Wilson and Thirteen. Taub moved in to check she was ok.
Feet away, Foreman covered the short distance to his boss, Cameron and Chase close at his heels. "House!" He called, gently shaking the man on the floor. "House, open your eyes." He looked to his two colleagues who were now knelt beside him on the floor. "He's unconscious." He stated, fear now all too clear in his voice. "Someone get a gurney."
"He has a pulse." Cameron called out in relief, adrenaline amplifying her voice, so the entire room could hear. A sigh of relief rippled through the space.
Chase placed his hand on his ex-boss's shoulders as he saw the amount of blood splattered on the floor, and still seeping from his mouth and nose, "His airways are compromised, we need to roll him. Help me stabilise his neck." Doctors, nurses and patients rushed in, working together to prevent further injury and in one swift movement rolled him to his side. Congealed, sticky blood flowed faster from his mouth and nose, mixing to form an ever-increasing crimson puddle on the floor.
A gurney was rushed in by a nurse and a woman with a red nose and dark, bloodshot eyes, they lined it up, so it was next to the man on the floor. "Everyone ready?" Foreman asked the group, they all nodded their assent. "Ok, on my mark." They tensed in preparation for a smooth transition from the floor to the bed. "Three, two, one, go." As one the group lifted him and gently deposited him on the bed.
Quickly the bed was rolled towards the ER, the back wheel gliding through the crimson pool, leaving a streak of gore across the floor as House was rolled to safety.