Um, k…this chapter is kinda evil. But everything will be cool in the end because I have a sequel planned :D. Anyway..please don't keel me…I need to write the next chapter! So, may or may not be accurate, may or may not be in character and may or may not be typoes. Also, continuing with my random songs about guys named Jimmy theme. Next chapter won't be like that though, I couldn't help this one. And also, again, the BIG italic section is co-written with the wonderful charmisjess, she did the Houseisms :D.

Chapter 3 – So Long Jimmy

His attention was suddenly turned to the direction of the gunfire, the argument nearly forgotten and pushed into the back of his head. Wilson looked back to House, his brown eyes slightly wide. "Was that-..." he trailed off, leaving the question unfinished and moved for the door to investigate.

House twitched himself out of his chair, groping for his cane. Despite his efforts, his heart was thrumming wildly; he hadn't quite forgotten his last exchange. "---you idiot, if it is gunfire, you don't want to go looking!"

Looking back at House, he paused for a moment, "It's gunfire in a hospital, that's bad. People get hurt, security comes, we're doctors, we help! Or at least try to.." Wilson headed for the door again.

House dropped his cane, and swore, loudly. "You're an idiot!"

Wilson didn't stop, pulling the door open and looking down the hall in the direction of the gunshots. He glanced back at House, about to say something, when a man dressed in a pair of black pants and black ski jacket crashed into him from behind, pushing him back through the open door, onto the office floor. The man, having the element of surprise, gained the upper hand and quickly got back to his feet, pulling Wilson up with him one-handedly by his hair. In the man's other hand was a handgun, which he aimed at House, "Don't...even move, or I swear..."

Groaning out loud, House rolled his eyes. Oh, this was spectacular... "You'll swear, oh, we are in trouble. Wilson, you moron..." Panic crystallized under his skin, and he bit his lip, even as he hissed out exasperation. Not again. He couldn't do this again.

"Me? I'm the moron?" Wilson protested, glancing hesitantly at the gunman still holding him by his hair. He only stood there, trying to be as still as possible, with his hands up slightly to show that he wasn't about to do anything to trigger something... which was a really bad choice of words at the moment. He swallowed hard, his breathing turning slightly ragged, also in panic.

There wasn't a man in the room who wasn't panicked, not even the gunman himself. He looked around sharply and took the gun sight off of House, instead shoving the still warm barrel against Wilson's cheek, pulling his head back slightly. Wilson gasped, but tried to stay still - calm - only his eyes pleaded.

"Shut up!" the gunman shouted, "Don't move, don't talk!"

Instead, House inched along the wall, toward one of the nurses who had been hit. "Oh, right. Is this a stickup? Listen, Twitchy, this is a hospital. Your stupid bank routine isn't going to work here..."

The gunman, clearly loosing his control quickly, cocked back the hammer on the gun. "I told you don't move!" he shouted at House.

Wilson took a deep breath, "House, stop. Do..do what he says..."

House stopped for a moment and stared at the two of them. "Look, what ever you came for, you're not going to get it…all of us know that." He inched down the wall another step.

The unstable gunman twitched, his face twisting in anger that his entire instructions to stop and shut up were not heeded. In one motion, he pushed Wilson down on the ground again and shot twice…

Wake up.

"Wake up."

"Stop your whining, it doesn't hurt that much."

"Listen, if you think I'm wrong on a case, then stop me, don't come up here as Cuddy's errand boy and give me some lecture on morality!"

"I get away with these sort of things because I'm a damn good doctor! Don't think it's at any level because of you!"

"Listen, Twitchy, this is a hospital. Your stupid bank routine isn't going to work here..."

"Damn it, James, wake up!"

Wake up.

The first thing he heard was the EKG monitor beeping in rhythm with his heart. Slowly, Wilson moved his hand, testing the monitor clip on his finger. He had worked in the hospital for years, but Wilson had never woken up as a patient.

He struggled to open his brown eyes, feeling heavy with the haze of morphine. There was something on his bed, he could feel it. Slowly, he looked down towards his feet as the world came into focus. There were four or five file folders laying on top of his legs and the lower half of his bed. Wilson creased his brow slightly in confusion and glanced to the side. The confusion left his face and was replaced by a weak smile.

The chair next to the bed was again occupied by House, who was asleep with his ipod headphones in, another file folder rested against his chest and his ever-present cane leaning against it. A whole section of the glass wall behind him was taken up by the doctor's familiar scrawl in white pen, obviously trying to figure out a problem.

For a moment, Wilson considered waking him, but the prospect of Gregory House, the man who only went into a patient's room if the matter was of life or death (and usually his), was actually asleep in a hospital chair in his room was too amusing to let go. Wilson closed his eyes, the small smile still on his face.

A moment later, House stirred and yawned, rubbing his face. He blinked a few times and looked to Wilson, surprised to see him awake. Yanking the headphones from his ears, House sat up slightly, his legs still propped up on the edge of the bed. "Good morning, sunshine," he said in his normal sarcastic manner, but there was a hint of warmness underneath.

Wilson swallowed, trying to get the cotton dryness out of his mouth. "Is it?" he whispered hoarsely after a moment.

"Is it what?" House asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Morning.."

A look of curiosity crossed his friend's face and he looked at his watch. "Hmm..barely."

Slowly, Wilson reached up to lightly rub his face with his arm that wasn't restrained by a sling, feeling the light stubble on his chin and cheeks. "How long was I asleep?"

"Two days. And to think that I about to be your Prince Charming and kiss you if you didn't wake up soon."

"Hm…you're not my type.." Wilson replied groggily.

House feigned an offended look, "Aw, Jimmy, I'm hurt…I thought we had something, man!"

A small amused smile crossed his face before he slowly opened his eyes again and looked over at House. Wilson creased his brow slightly, "What are you doing here anyway, I thought you hated being in patient's rooms.."

"I do," House replied, then glanced at the door, "I'm avoiding Cuddy. It was quiet in here..until you woke up."

"Oh..do you want me to go back to sleep and leave you alone?"

"Well it could do both of us some good."

Wilson winced slightly as his stitches protested a little. He knew his friend's sense of humor. He knew that House didn't mean to intentionally hurt…usually. But it left an awkward silence for a moment. "So nice to be loved.." he added finally with a small sigh that ended in a cough. He squeezed his eyes shut as the action had jarred pain loose again, shooting up into his chest.

House leaned forward, concern not hidden from his face. "James?" he asked, "What do you need?"

Swallowing hard, he coughed again. His chest ached, but he filed it off as only related to surgery and nothing else. Wilson took a breath though his mouth, hoping to avoid coughing again and worsening the pain. He looked up at House, "Water.."

Not bothering with his cane, House stood up and quickly grabbed a cup, filling it with water and handing it to his friend, carefully helping him to drink. "Slowly.." he said softly.

Barely had he had his first swallow of water when James gave a choking cough, spitting out the water. He gasped. Pain..more pain. He couldn't breathe. The EKG monitor suddenly sounded in warning.

House practically threw the cup he was holding at the table – he couldn't tell if it was just Wilson's heart that was racing dangerously fast or if it was really just his own.

"Wilson!" he shouted at him, as if that in itself would suddenly stop everything and bring it back to normal. House's hands shook, but at least this time they knew what to do. There wasn't time to freeze.

The younger doctor wasn't breathing at all. The room blurred…he lost focus. His brown eyes slowly closed as he lost consciousness, despite House shouting unheard words at him. Nothing.

The world that had suddenly become warped with worry and panic turned painfully clear again as the EKG monitor let out a clear single sound. House's head snapped up. Too late. He swore and looked at the door where someone who was standing in the doorway had heard the alarm. "Call the code! Get a crash cart in here!!" House ordered. "Someone get the damn bag!"

The someone was suddenly across from him. He looked up – Cameron. She was the one that placed the plastic mask and bag over Jimmy's face, pumping the essential air into his still lungs.

"What happened?" she cried over both the noise of the room and their hearts pounding in their own ears.

House only shook his head. He couldn't answer. His mind was otherwise occupied with saving a life – his friend's. Taking the paddles from the first person who had them, he gripped them until his knuckles turned white. "Clear!" House shouted, his voice sounding distant to himself, as if he wasn't even standing in the room. He wished he wasn't.

Wilson's body jumped at the jolt of electricity. There was no change in the single note of the EKG monitor. House shook his head. "Clear!" he cried out again, pressing the paddles down.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

There was an electrical whine as the paddles recharged. Wilson's head leaned lifelessly to one side, even as Cameron held the mask against his face. There was no response…

House blinked back the tears that stung his eyes. "Clear!!" he shouted with the top of his lungs, hoping that if he put all of his effort into it…he could save him.

The death singer's song was interrupted. Beep…beep…beep. Slowly, the heartbeat stabilized. Letting out a shaky breath, House put the paddles down and sunk heavily back into his chair. His leg suddenly hurt, as if it had been waiting until all of this passed. Massaging it, he only watched as Cameron readjusted everything.

He closed his eyes for a moment, still breathing hard and feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Slowly, House leaned forward again, resting his elbows against the edge of the bed. He picked up Wilson's hand and held it against his forehead. "God, James.." he whispered so low that not even Cameron heard him, "Don't do that again…not ever.. you're all I have left."

On the other side of the bed, Allison watched for a moment before reaching up to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. She had her own reasons. Gently, she reached out and brushed back Wilson's dark hair, letting her hand rest on top of his head as she lingered there with both of them for a long moment. House didn't look up to see her tears. And before he would notice, she silently headed for the door, pausing slightly at the doorway to look back. Then she left.

It was quiet once again. No one saw House's shoulders shake.