A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This chapter could be a bit much some people due to an abundance of pain and some violence. Let me know if you like it!

Wilson's phone rang at noon the next day. He didn't have caller ID as he hadn't yet switched from the wired phones the hospital had had since the 80s. He liked the feeling of the smooth plastic as he twirled it in his hands.

"Dr. James Wilson," he greeted professionally.

"Yes, hello, this is Dr. Lei. I'm Gregory House's primary physician at Mayfield?"

"Oh. Hi Dr. Lei. Is something wrong with House?"

ONE HOUR EARLIER
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. All he could think about; all he could feel was the searing, hot pain focused on his thigh. He rolled around the bed, using every inch. He retched off the side of the bed, not even bothering with the emesis basin. He definitely wanted to die now, which was a good thing because he was pretty sure he was going to. Something had to change right now or he was going to stop breathing. He screamed as a cramp cut its way through his leg.

He sat up when the cramp was finished. He had to do something about this. He needed a nurse, or a doctor...or Vicodin. He really needed Vicodin, now more than ever. The door seemed so far away...maybe he could get someone to call Wilson and discharge him. He couldn't stay here anymore. At this point, he didn't care about his job, he just needed the pain to stop. But the door seemed so far away...he had to try.

Slowly, he put his left leg on the floor. It felt OK. His right leg, though, was clearly a different story. As soon as he tried to set it on the floor, he whimpered. He tried again and groaned, leaning his head back. His brain seemed to slosh back inside his head.

"Nurse!" he yelled. Nobody came. But he had to get up, so he grabbed the standing lamp next to his bed, took the lampshade off, and started using it as an extremely heavy, awkward cane. After some struggling, he made it to the door. His leg seized up again, and he screamed. He banged on the door as hard as he could in his weakened state.

"HELP! Help me!" he screamed through the window. Nurse's stopped, then ran in.

"Sir? What's wrong?"

His leg gave and he fell on the ground, screaming in agony. The nurses rushed towards him, and he tried to push them away with the hand not wrapped around his thigh. He must have hit one of them because he heard a yelp.

"Code gray!" he heard a nurse yell down the hall. "Get me some restraints in here!"

Restraints...no...no…

He felt a hand grab his arm and a needle stab in his arm. His body suddenly felt heavy, but couldn't stop fighting off the nurses. He would not be restrained.

"NO!" he yelled.

"Sir, calm down. You're not making this easier on yourself," a man said as he grabbed House under the armpits and hoisted him up onto his feet. House screamed again as his leg banged against the wall. He tried to kick the man. He didn't succeed. Another man grabbed his legs and pulled them onto the bed. His head felt heavy, and his limbs burned with exhaustion. The men grabbed his arms and strapped them to the bed as House whimpered. His eyes drooped but were forced open by a white, hot, stabbing pain in his right leg as the men pinned it to the bed. He screamed again, arching his back.

"NO LEG!"

"Sir, please sit still. We're almost done," one of the men pushed a needle into House's tense bicep and he slid into darkness.

(LINE BREAK)

Wilson rushed into House's room ahead of Dr. Lei. He took in his friend. He was sweating, mouth half open and eyes squeezed shut. He groaned. Wilson hadn't seen him this bad since the infarction. He pushed that thought out of his head and went to his friend's bedside.

"House..?" Wilson tried. He put a hand on House's arm. His eyes flew open, bloodshot corneas against the bright blue. He grabbed Wilson's hand with his restrained arm.

"House, I'm sorry...I got a call from Dr. Lei an hour ago. What happened?"

His friend just groaned and tried to grab his leg. That's when Wilson noticed. He started shaking with anger.

Trying to be calm, he turned to Dr. Lei. "You...restrained his leg…?"

"Yes…?" Dr. Lei said, staring at the oncologist. "Is that a problem? We didn't want him to hurt anyone else or himself. He was hysterical when the nurses found him."

"He was hysterical...because he was in pain…" Wilson said slowly.

"I understand that. He hit a nurse."

"Unrestrain his leg. Now."

"Dr. Wilson, he's still-"

"Now!"

Dr. Lei sighed and unstrapped the restraint on House's right ankle. House whimpered as he tried to stretch the leg. He looked up at Wilson with something like gratitude. Then he turned his head to the side and vomited. Wilson sighed and grabbed one of the rags from the nightstand and wiped off his friend's mouth.

"He's still not lucid, Dr. Wilson. We can unrestrain him in about half an hour if he doesn't try to do anything else destructive."

"Get out," Wilson ordered. Dr. Lei scurried away. An angry Wilson was a scary thing.

"House...how are you feeling?" Wilson asked. House moaned, but found his voice.

"Hurs…" he slurred.

Wilson squeezed his hand. "I know. I'm sorry they restrained you."

House grimaced and yelped as his leg went into another spasm. He tried again to grab it, but then remembered he couldn't and slumped against the bed. Wilson loosened the restraints on House's arms. House flexed his raw wrists.

"How bad?" Wilson asked.

"Bad...you were right...wanna die…"

"It's OK. I know. You're getting help. I'm proud of you." Wilson watched his friend for a few minutes until he fell asleep again. He looked an inch away from death. Wilson hoped that soon the worst would be over.