CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Crisis

When they reach the bedroom, Cuddy's eyes fly to the monitor, which has just started alarming, and Wilson's eyes go to House, who is pale, sweaty, and undeniably frightened.

"What's happening?" House gasps. "Can't see… monitor."

Wilson looks to Cuddy for the answer; she appears stunned, and almost as pale as House is, but when she answers her voice is strong, and unbelievably calm, and reassuring. "You're having a run of v-tach, House. We need you to try and stay with us, fight it. I'm gonna sedate you right now; you let it work on calming down your heart, but don't let it shut off your brain; gotta stay with us."

Wilson studies House while Cuddy administers the sedation. House's heart rate is 152 per minute, and Wilson can actually see the organ beating too fast, and irregularly, in the thin chest. His skin is pale, almost translucent—pulsing veins are visible at his temples. He's sweating profusely, and his eyes are darting wildly around the room. Wilson grabs House's hand, sits down on the bed as House's heart rate climbs above 160.

"House, listen to me," he says. "Focus on my voice. You can do this. You have to do this; help us help you. No, buddy, don't close your eyes, stay here with me. House! Open your eyes. Not gonna stop yelling until they're open, so do it! House!"

Cuddy's finished pushing the med. "I gave him 10mg diazepam; he may not be able to fight it off. And it's not helping," she says as the heart rate hits 180.

"He'll fight it off," Wilson says tensely. "House, c'mon, open your eyes, lemme know you're still in there. Your big chance to prove Cuddy wrong, House, don't blow it! House!"

Shut up, Jimmy, go 'way. Wanna sleep, not so scary now, nuthin' hurts. If this is 'dead,' know what? I'll take it. Not such a bad thing, not such a bad place… if you'd just quit yellin' at me… please….

"HOUSE!" Wilson shouts, "Open your eyes!"

Stop already, okay? Don't wanna play anymore, tired of fighting, no more no more no….

"Heart rate's getting ready to hit 190," Cuddy says to Wilson. "I'm cardioverting at 200." She's getting the portable defibrillator ready. "Gonna try some magnesium, too. Can't hurt him. And I'm upping the potassium; congestive heart failure's easier to treat than this." Now she directs her words to House. "Not gonna lose you, House. I have no intention of being haunted for the next fifty years, so pull it together here!" She's shouting, too.

Cuddy, kindly shut up, okay? Lemme die in peace. Sorry about the clinic hours… hell, no I'm not; shouldn't tell lies on your deathbed. One thing, though… take care of Jimmy, okay? Jimmy… just made 'im a promise… promised not to… aw, Jimmy….

House wills his eyes open. It takes a tremendous effort to focus, and, when he's finally able to see, he's looking right into Wilson's eyes, only inches from his own, and he can't see anything else. He pulls in a searing breath, and forces words out on the exhale. "scaphoid… lunate…" he whispers. "triquetrum… pisiform…"

"Heart rate's falling!" Cuddy shouts in triumph. She looks at House, and sees that he's whispering, although she can't make out the words.

And Wilson has a small smile on his face as he says to House, "That's right, keep going, only twenty-three more. Good job, buddy. What's next? Keep those eyes open; what's next?"

"trapezium… trapezoid… capitate…."

"Wilson, heart rate's down below 160!" Cuddy says happily. She frowns at House, puzzled. "What's he saying?"

Wilson keeps his eyes locked with House's, and his grin grows wider as he says to Cuddy, "He's listing all the bones in the human hand. He's forcing himself to stay focused. He's decided to stay with us!"

"hamate… hook… of hamate… phalanges…."

"Down to 120, and look—sinus tach! The v-tach's resolved. We did it; he did it!" Cuddy heaves a long sigh, and she's grinning now, too. She collapses onto the bed, sitting on the other side of House. She puts her stethoscope to her ears and listens to his chest, then looks up, satisfied. "It's over."

House looks at Wilson and says, his voice still little more than a whisper, "Hand."

Wilson smiles indulgently down at House, "Yeah, I remember anatomy, too. Bones of the hand. Pretty clever way to stay focused, though."

"No… hand. Was… listing all the bones you're… crushing. Cane hand, too. Let go now?" One side of House's mouth quirks up as Wilson realizes he's still holding, very tightly, to the hand he'd grabbed at the start of this. Both House's hand and Wilson's are absolutely white, and Wilson has difficulty letting go; his hand has effectively cramped around House's.

"Sorry; didn't realize," he says as he untangles his hand from House's. "Did I hurt you?"

"'S'okay… the pain helped. Kind've… an anchor, ya know?" The two men exchange a look so warm and private that Cuddy suddenly feels she's intruding. She stands, and begins to gather up the empty syringes.

When she retrieves a syringe she'd tossed on the sheet, she glances at House and sees that he's shivering. "Are you okay?" she asks him, worried again.

"Just cold." His voice is a little stronger now; talking doesn't seem as much of an effort. "Got a little sweaty there tryin' to stay alive, I guess. Hard work."

Wilson stands. "Let's get that fixed. I'll be right back."

Wilson returns quickly with a basin of warm water and several towels. He retrieves a dry t-shirt from the dresser, and sets the basin on the nightstand. "Don't move," he directs House. "Let me do all the work here; you just relax." He slips his hands under House's back and lifts him slowly, gently, to a sitting position, bringing him all the way forward so that House's upper chest is supported against Wilson's right arm.

Cuddy's reminded of a mother bathing a baby. Wilson's so gentle, and so natural, that House's dignity is never in question, not even now, in the face of his helplessness. The two talk quietly, one or the other of them occasionally laughing softly. Cuddy goes about the task of cleaning up the reminders of the crisis they've just come through together, and enjoying the gentle peace of the scene in front of her. And she's glad that she'd made the decision to keep House at home; House and Wilson are proving it was the right thing to do, for all of them. She smiles over at them, and even House returns the smile, just a little. And it's enough.