This is a bit of a fill-in chapter I'm afraid – not a huge amount really happening here but we've got to get House moved from the clinic and some kind of diagnosis of his injuries before we can move forward with events. So not much action here – but lots of introspection from Cuddy whilst having to deal with the consequences of what has happened.
I've done my best to research the medical aspects of this stuff but I'm not medically trained so apologies for any mistakes – please do feel free to correct if I've made glaring medical mistakes here. All reviews and constructive criticism welcomed, as ever…
Thanks very much to all those who have reviewed so far..
In Self Defence - Chapter 3
The scream for help from the usually composed Dr Cuddy brought the desk nurse to the exam room at a run. She stopped in the doorway as though she'd run into an invisible wall, her mouth dropping open in stunned surprise at the sight of Dr Cuddy kneeling amidst the chaos of the ransacked room beside an unmoving Dr House. "Oh my God" she breathed, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Is he…?"
"Get a gurney." Cuddy interrupted, the calm authority of her voice belying the fear that coiled in her stomach, "Get someone in here to help me – and get security!" She turned back to House without waiting to see the nurse leave. An unaccustomed feeling of helplessness washed over her at the sight of him lying there, broken and still on the smooth tile of the exam room floor.
She had to concentrate to stop her hand from shaking as she fumbled in the pocket of her lab coat for a penlight and carefully lifted House's eyelids, relieved beyond measure to see his pupils react to the bright light. His piercing blue eyes were vacant and unfocused, the intellect that gave them life and warmth entirely missing. She swallowed down the anxiety that rose like acid in her throat – she had to stay calm, stay professional. She was no good to Greg if she let herself panic.
Clinical, she reminded herself. Look at this from a clinical point of view. He had a pulse and he was breathing so that was the ABC's covered. She reached instinctively for her stethoscope and cursed when she realised she'd left it in her office. She hadn't intended to be treating any patients this afternoon – and certainly hadn't expected to end up in a triage situation. She leaned carefully over House as she checked for signs of injury. A thin line of blood had dried on the right side of his face and she found a small, ragged cut in the hairline near his right temple, together with what looked to be shaping up to a nasty contusion. The surrounding tissue was tight and swollen and already beginning to flush a dull red. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Okay, so head trauma.
There were no other visible signs of bleeding, though his skin was pale and there was no reaction to her touch as she examined him. She ran her hands carefully over his torso, looking for any obvious indications of injury, allowing herself to take comfort in the practised, automatic responses honed by years of medical training. Beneath the calm exterior her mind was racing, trying to reconstruct the sequence of events that had led to this, to calculate a timeframe for when the attack had taken place. She sat back abruptly, closing her eyes for a moment, aware of the fear and panic crowding in at the edges of her fragile control. A shaky breath escaped her as she pressed a hand to her forehead. If the clinic nurse was right in her estimate of when his patient left, House could have been lying here unconscious for an hour, maybe more….
"Holy shh.." a familiar voice brought her back to the here and now and she looked up to see Foreman enter the room followed by a resident from the orthopaedics department. The neurologist let his startled epithet trail off as he took in the situation with a glance. He turned to the shell-shocked younger doctor beside him, "Go get a gurney – now!" Give him his due, the resident turned and set off at a run. "What the hell happened here?" Foreman demanded as he knelt next to Cuddy.
"We don't know," she answered tersely, not bothering to ask permission before pulling the stethoscope from around his neck. She could see genuine concern in the younger man's face as he repeated her actions in checking for a carotid pulse. "We, uh… we think it was a patient.." she sighed.
"Pulse is weak." Foreman announced. He frowned, focusing on his wristwatch, "Rapid too." Cuddy nodded sombrely. "He's got a contusion to the right temple" she noted. "No other visible injuries but I'm thinking probable blunt force trauma." She settled the earpieces of the stethoscope in a practised motion and gently pushed House's clothing aside to listen to his chest.
What she saw made her heart sink and the ragged sound of her indrawn breath made Foreman look up from his examination of House's head injury. Following her horrified gaze, he breathed out a curse at the sight. House's chest was a mass of contusions, the damaged flesh reddened and tender. "Who the hell did this?" Foreman muttered as Cuddy held the stethoscope gingerly against House's ribs.
The worry showed on her expressive face as she listened closely to House's breathing, her hands light on his chest as she carefully examined his injuries. She sat back on her heels and pulled the stethoscope from her ears, her mouth a tight, grim line. "Respirations are shallow," she reported, "and rapid. He's got broken ribs, head trauma and he's unresponsive to pain. We've got to get him radiology – he needs a chest x-ray and we need to check for internal injuries."
She stood up abruptly, feeling anger begin to well in her, burning away the numbness and shock. Her voice shook as she looked around her at the evidence of the violence that had erupted in this room, "That bastard really did a number on him."
Foreman looked up at her with a wry expression "Yeah," he agreed, "I wonder what the hell House said to him."
Cuddy couldn't help a weak smile at that, silently thankful for Foreman's attempt to lighten the moment. She was feeling steadier by the moment, the need to take charge, to be in control, winning through the awful shock of finding a member of her staff in this situation, of the thought of such an atrocity taking place in her hospital. "Where the hell is that gurney?" she fretted, picking her way through the chaos to the door.
The mood in the clinic waiting area was sombre. Both staff and patients were subdued; the patients had heard the commotion, seen the shock on the faces of the staff as they whispered to each other, and everyone knew that medical staff running through the clinic was never a good sign. Something had happened, something bad. Cuddy was pleased to see the security staff she'd requested had taken charge of the situation, keeping the concerned patients well clear of the area around Exam Room 1 and doing their best to allay fears. Even as she looked she saw one of them clearing a path for the Orthopaedics resident with her requested gurney and she moved briskly to meet it, feeling a measure of comfort in taking control of matters, guiding the gurney to where it was needed, ordering the desk nurse to come and assist.
Moving House to the gurney was a delicate operation in the cramped confines of the exam room. It took the four of them to carefully move him, anxious to keep him as immobile as possible. Laid on the gurney he looked pale, weak, almost fragile and Cuddy realised that, despite his physical infirmity, she had never really seen him as being ill, as being in any way weak or helpless. He worked so hard not to be pitied, not to be treated as an invalid, pushing people away before they had a chance to feel sorry for him. His devil may care attitude and the sheer force of his powerful personality had made him seem infallible, untouchable. The revelation of his vulnerability left her off-balance, feeling oddly like her world had shifted on its axis.
As they carefully manoeuvred the gurney towards the door Cuddy's eye fell on House's cane, half buried in the debris littering the floor. It was something so integral to House as she knew him, so much a part of him, that so see it lying abandoned there hit her harder than she could have imagined. The sick fear she had felt since walking in on the remnants of such violence, such destruction, rose up in her throat like bile. Someone had come in here, into her hospital, and defiled it, tarnished it, attacked a member of her staff and in one vicious stroke stripped away the safety and security she had felt in this place.
She stooped slowly to retrieve the cane. The wood felt smooth and cold in her hands, lifeless, unyielding. Her hands tightened around the length of the cane and she ruthlessly smothered the fear and the anger – there would be time enough for that later. Right now, she had a patient to care for.
She followed the gurney through the shocked silence of the clinic, aware of the curious eyes of the patients.. and the stares of the hospital staff who had gathered as word of an incident has spread. House's reputation and behaviour had ensured he was well known throughout the hospital and Cuddy knew that every eye had moved over the gurney with it's unmoving occupant.. and come to rest on the wooden cane clutched in her hands.
Cuddy let Foreman take charge of moving House up to radiology as she stopped at the nurse's desk to issue instructions.
"Close up Exam Room 1 and lock the door – don't touch anything. I don't want anyone else in there until the police arrive." She looked around the clinic, assessing the situation. "Treat the patients we have waiting but don't accept any new admissions – tell them the clinic is temporarily closed for the afternoon."
"Page me in radiology when the police get here." she instructed as she turned to follow after the gurney. Her steps faltered as a horrible thought occurred to her. Turning back to the desk she issued one last instruction, her voice heavy with regret, "And send someone to find Dr Wilson. Don't page him – send someone in person and have him meet me in radiology." The nurse nodded quickly, understanding in her eyes.
Clutching House's cane like a lifeline, Cuddy turned from the desk and, propriety be damned, ran through the clinic, heading for radiology.
To be continued….