Title: Silver Butterflies
Rating: Ma
Disclaimer: Nothing other than the obvious.
Summary: Dr. House doesn't believe in coincidences, so he knew there was something more to it when a missing child he read about ten minutes earlier is found sitting on his exam room table.
3. ...and the Old.
Instinct and gut-feelings are two things that should never go ignored, Cuddy knows this, and if she ever had any doubt, House has proven it on more than one occasion.
She's sitting behind the desk, and with every inch of her body, the hairs on her head to the hairs on her toes; she knows something's very, very wrong.
The incessant tapping on the door magnifies the feeling.
"Come in." Cuddy states, despite her head screaming that maybe this isn't the best idea.
The man isn't particularly intimidating, not too tall, not too burly and a gentle enough face, but Cuddy's intuition is going on the sprits.
She's not that surprised when she sees the gun in his hand.
She thinks she's even less surprised when he shoves her face into the wall.
However the apologetic look in his eyes.
That surprises her.
It happens quite quickly, and before Wilson can say a thing, he's tossed quite rudely into one of the operating rooms.
"Wait-"
The room is smaller than he remembers, and it smells like excretion, or maybe the fertiliser Julie likes to use on the yard. Either way it's unpleasant, and the nurses are clinging desperately to each other, tears trickling down red cheeks, onto their white uniforms.
One of the girls stands tall though, her blonde hair falling out of what was previously a tight ponytail. Tear tracks don't mar her cheeks, but raw fear is clear in her big, grey eyes.
"Dr. Wilson," Her alto voice rings clear in his ears, not quite shaky enough to display her dread. "I think we may be in over our heads."
Her pale hands are clutching to her thin frame, but her shoulders are back, and her posture is firm. It's not right, he knows, for someone to be so afraid, yet so sure.
"I think you might be right." He says, and he puts his hand on her arm.
Closing her eyes, she leans into his wiry frame. She doesn't sob like he expects, but merely clutches at herself to assure her that she's still there. That instance of vulnerability is gone in seconds, and she sits up straight, "My name is Karen." She says, holding out her hand, he shakes it, it's courtesy.
She's crying now, and House really wishes that it had been Cameron, Wilson, anyone but him that had been left here with this tiny girl. Because in reality, he's not very good at this.
Her gigantic blue eyes (no one should have eyes that big) are so watery and pathetic, and Burke's gone and her wound's all stitched up, and that's all he knows how to do. Maybe if Stacy were here, she'd use psycho-babble on the kid, or Cameron would cuddle up to her, or Chase would kiss her, but he's himself, and it would never be alright if he did any of it.
When she looks at him expectantly, he hands her a tissue, and when it's soggy enough that the tears are leaking through onto her dress, he hands her another one.
He was never very good at this.
TBC.
Thanks for bearing with me all, I rewrote the last chapter, and kinda merged it in two, I think it's less jumpy now.
This was all build-up, so the real stuff starts next chapter, hopefully the wait'll be shorter this time .