ABSOLUTE FEAR

Part Three

Cameron, Chase and Foreman ended-up spending most of the day with Glenn, much to their dismay. And he was a horrible, rude patient. He flirted with Cameron, shamelessly, called Foreman that horrible "N-Word" and told Chase that he looked more gay than the actors on Queer as Folk. He was making it harder and harder for them to want to figure out what was wrong. They were starting to feel like House. They didn't want anything to do with him.

They did all kinds of tests on him, trying hard to ignore his boorish behavior. And then, as if by a miracle, what they found brought them comfort. It shouldn't have, though. Glenn had an inoperable brain tumor, the size of a large fist. They didn't know what to do next. They didn't know how a psychotic patient would react to the news that he was going to die. And he only had six months at most, to live.

"Could this explain why he did what he did to Wilson and Marissa?" Cameron asked.

"Possibly," replied Foreman. "But then what's his friend's excuse? I think he knew exactly what he was doing when he abducted and hurt them."

"It's not right," Chase said, shaking his head. "To feel good about our discovery. This is the kind of thing we hate to tell our patients. But I can't help it."

Cameron put a hand on his shoulder. "I know." she said. "I can't feel sad, either. It's like… like he deserves it."

The others nodded, slowly. This was the worst case they had ever had. It was an easy diagnosis and they hadn't needed House, but now they felt they did. Surely, he would know what to say. Either that or he would confirm the fact that he was glad that Glenn was going to die, too.

"Well, we have to tell him," Cameron said. "He has a right to know."

"He gave-up his rights the minute he hurt Dr. Wilson," Chase said, banging his fist on the table and knocking over his coffee cup. "We don't owe that bastard anything."

"We just ran a bunch of tests on him," Foreman pointed out. "He's eventually going to start asking questions about what his test results indicated."

"And what did they indicate?" came a voice from the door. It was House, leaning on his cane and looking at his team.

"I thought you didn't want to hear anything about it." Chase said, surprised.

"Well, you solved the case," House replied. "I just want to know if I what I told Wilson was true. Is it an inoperable brain tumor that's going to kill him?"

"Yes, actually, it is," Cameron said. "How did you know?"

"Chronic headaches and violent tendencies," House answered. "It's not rocket science, you know."

"House, if you already knew this, why didn't you say something?" Cameron was a little upset that they had gone through a whole bunch of crap with Glenn when they really didn't need to. "We just wasted a whole day doing unnecessary tests!" All eyes were on House.

"Do you have any idea what that ass put us through?" Foreman inquired.

"Don't you dare make this about yourselves," House warned them, his eyes full of anger. "I don't give a rat's ass what he did to you. Because I'm sure it doesn't compare to what he did to Wilson. Don't ever forget that!" House stared at them until they finally all looked away, ashamed.

House was right. This wasn't about them at all. They had done what they had to do, now the rest was up to Cuddy and the police.

"I guess we should tell Dr. Cuddy, then," Chase decided. "She said once we had a diagnosis, she'd take care of him."

"Yea, yea, we'll tell her in due time," said House. "First, I get to tell him he's dying and put the restraints on him. Then we'll leave him to think about it for tonight. Maybe a little longer."

Nobody objected to this suggestion.

"I just want to know one thing," House added. "Are you certain it's a brain tumor? Because I really didn't realize that Mr. Edgar had a brain."

Everyone laughed and they followed House out the door and to Glenn's room. When they got there, Dave was with him and they were having a good laugh about something.

"Well, you're back, finally," said Glenn and then pursed his lips and looked at Cameron. "Did you miss me, my love?" Cameron scowled. House was slightly amused.

"I'm Dr. House," he introduced himself, because he hadn't before. He looked at Dave. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Dave obeyed and reluctantly left the room.

"I've seen you before," said Glenn, looking bored. "You were with this fag this morning. Then you ran out of the room." He nodded in Chase's direction. House was not amused this time. "What the hell kind of a name is House anyway? Do people live in you or something?" he laughed, almost maniacally.

"What the hell kind of a name is Glenn?" House retorted. "Do people run through the grass in your valley?"

The others laughed at this and Glenn gave them really horrible look, like he wanted to kill them. They instinctively took a few steps back from the bed.

"So what's the story, already?" Glenn demanded answers. "Am I dying or what?"

For a moment, House didn't say anything. He had an idea. He wanted to see if it was possible for this man to feel any sort of remorse. Because House didn't like feeling happy about someone dying, even it was a murderer. It wasn't right.

"It's cancer," House said, which wasn't a complete lie. "We're going to have to turn you over to the Oncology Department."

Cameron, Chase and Foreman all looked confused. They knew House was up to something, but what? Was he thinking of putting Glenn and Wilson face to face? They waited with baited breath to see what he'd say next.

"Fine. Then what?" said Glenn, not looking the least bit afraid of the word "cancer".

"We'll see what Dr. Wilson's opinion is," House said, grinning. "He'll know what kind of meds to put you on. Oh wait, I forgot," he snapped his fingers and Glenn's eyes grew wide at the mention of Wilson's name. "He's missing. Damn, that's too bad. He's the best oncologist we had."

They all looked at Glenn, who just sat there and smiled. He didn't look the least bit sorry. He looked overjoyed. He thought he had done what he had set out to do in the first place.

"Don't you have other oncologists?" Glenn asked. He still looked way too happy for somebody who thought he had murdered two people and just found out he had cancer. House fought the urge to smack him across the face as hard as he could. He made a fist and his knuckles turned white. Anger boiled his blood, fiercely.

"It won't do any good," House said through clenched teeth. "You're going to die, anyway. You haven't got a hope in hell. And you deserve it, you fucking son-of-a-bitch!" The words were cold and cruel. House then lunged at him and at first, the team thought he was going to beat Glenn to a pulp. There was a struggle, and a moment later, Glenn was in restraints.

"What the hell is going on?" Glenn demanded. "Why are you doing this to me? Why am I in restraints? I want to speak to your superior!"

"Shut your mouth!" At last, House couldn't hold it in anymore. He smacked Glenn across the face as hard as he could. Then he spat on him and limped out of the room, without another word. The team left as well, as Glenn's screams of protest for being restrained echoed through the ER.

Wilson returned to the hospital in the evening, when he knew there would be less people around. It wasn't too long after House and the others had left Glenn's room, when Wilson entered. Glenn was too busy struggling against his restraints to even see Wilson walk-in. Wilson stood there, his hand in his lab coat pocket, fingering the gun. This was the first time he had seen his kidnapper without a mask on. He was a plain looking man with red hair and an acne-scarred face. He waited, calmly, until Glenn finally looked up and did a double take.

"You!" he exclaimed.

"Surprise!" Wilson said, smiling. He was amazed at how calm and cool he felt, despite the fact he was looking Marissa's killer straight in the eye.

"Why that little liar," Glenn said. "He said you were still missing! Hah! I bet he was the one who found you, though I don't see how. I guess you were right," he added. "Your little doctor friends came and rescued you. Oh well," he shrugged. "At least they'll never find Marissa. So I did get one consolation prize." His smirk was too much for Wilson. He felt the anger building up inside him like fire. The fact that Glenn was calling Marissa's murder a consolation prize hit every one of his nerves like lightning. He didn't care one bit.

"Are you stupid?" Wilson said, almost amazed. "They'll find Marissa. You must know that we have your record on file here, complete with your address."

Glenn was not worried about the hospital having his address. But he could see that he had provoked Wilson. Satisfied, he once again began to struggle against the restraints. Wilson forced himself to stay in control, even though the pain of loosing Marissa cut through his heart. Just hearing her name was hard enough.

"You see?" said Wilson. "You shouldn't have been so sloppy. You should have finished me off properly. Because now the shoe is on the other foot. I'm the one who's in control of your destiny now." Wilson prepared to withdraw the gun from his pocket.

"Does it look like I really care?" Glenn asked, rolling his eyes. "I mean, what are you going to do, really? You're weak, Doctor. You begged us to kill you. That's not what I call control. That's completely losing it!"

Wilson faked a laugh.

"Still singing out that same old tune, are you?" he said, sarcastically, and finally withdrew the gun. Glenn stopped struggling and stared at Wilson. He didn't look the least bit afraid that there was a gun pointed at him. "Well, you'll soon be singing a different tune. It's called HIGHWAY TO HELL!" Wilson screamed at the top of his lungs and the next thing he knew, House and his team were in the room, with a huge array of onlookers outside of the room. Everyone in the ER had heard Wilson.

"Wilson…" House began.

"Stay out of this, House," Wilson warned. "This is not about you. This is between me and Glenn."

"Go ahead, Rich Boy, shoot me," said Glenn. "You're little doctor friends already told me I'm going to die anyway."

"Not quick enough if you ask me," Wilson spat. "Why wait when I could kill you right now?"

"Well then what are you waiting for?" Glenn snapped.

Wilson's finger trembled on the trigger. Glenn laughed. He knew Wilson couldn't do it.

"Wilson, stop this," House tried to talk him out of it. "If anyone is going to shoot him, it'll be me. Give me the gun."

Wilson ignored House. He wanted to pull the trigger, but his hand felt frozen.

"You know, Wilson, it would be better if you let him live," House tried again. "If he lives, he'll suffer. He'll suffer from the brain tumor and with the memories of what he did to you and Marissa. If you shoot him, you're giving him the easy road out. You don't want that." he declared with certainty. "Wouldn't you sleep better knowing that he was locked away somewhere, just waiting to die?"

"He doesn't deserve to live another minute," said Wilson and tears fell from his eyes. "It's the only way, House. It's the only way to end the pain."

"You're stronger than that, Wilson." House continued. "You know a wise man once told me that dying is easy; living is hard."

Wilson stood there for a long time, motionless. He knew who had said that to House. He had. Finally, he lowered the gun and House quickly took it from him and handed it to the officers who had just arrived. They were in the room with Dave, who was sobbing like a little girl, bound with handcuffs. Another officer was ushering the rest of the staff away from the room. They allowed House and his team plus Wilson to remain in the room.

"I knew you couldn't do it," Glenn taunted Wilson. "You doctors are all alike! You think you're in control of everyone's life but you can't even kill someone when it really matters! You're emotions make you weak-"

"Our emotions make us human!" Wilson snapped. As he looked at Glenn, he could never remember hating anyone so much. He still didn't feel like he had accomplished anything. Aiming the gun should have been enough, but it wasn't. Wilson still felt incredible emotional pain.

"This isn't fair," he said to House. "He's never going to feel sorry for what he's done. He just gets to sit in prison and wait to die. So what. He still gets the easy way out."

House sighed, feeling bad for his friend. "It's out of your control now, Wilson. Just try to be happy at the fact that he can never again do this to anyone. And think of your strength. You lived through all that," he said, putting a hand on Wilson's shoulder. "and that's something, Wilson. That's really something."

They watched as Officer Gables was about to undo Glenn's restraints, when Wilson got a crazy idea. He had to have some kind of relief and he knew just how to get it. He walked up to Gables and whispered in her ear.

"I really don't think I can allow that," said Gables. "I mean, we're taking him in, Dr. Wilson. He's going to prison."

"Please, just let me have the satisfaction," Wilson pleaded. "Nobody will ever have to know."

Gables whispered into the other officer's ear and he laughed.

"I'd like to see that!" he exclaimed. "I say it's okay." He looked at House. "Close the door and draw the curtains. What happens in this room stays in this room, understand?"

House and the others nodded, though they hadn't the slightest idea what Wilson wanted to do, until he asked for House's belt. House gave it to Wilson, as Gables removed Glenn's socks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Glenn shouted, knowing exactly what Wilson was going to do. "Are you crazy?"

"You don't have the right to make that judgment," Wilson said, impassively.

"You're not actually going to let him do this are you?" Glenn asked the officers. "I'll report you to your superiors!"

"Go ahead," said Gables. "They don't usually believe psychopaths."

"You don't even know what you're doing, Doctor," Glenn said, stalling for more time. He was shaking slightly.

"I do too," Wilson insisted as he got in position. "And I know more about the anatomy of the foot than you do, so I'll be returning the favor, ten-fold."

With that, Wilson lifted the leather belt and made contact with Glenn's right foot, in the exact perfect spot. The cracking sound made everyone cringe and Glenn shrieked in absolute agony. Then Wilson did the same to other foot, getting the same reaction. Wilson was glad to see that tears and sweat were pouring down Glenn's face. Finally, he felt normal again.

House was applauding and laughing. Everyone waved to Glenn as he was carried away in handcuffs.

"Wilson, I've got to hand it to you," House said as he re-buckled his belt again. "You've got balls."

"Way to go, Dr. Wilson," said Chase and the others nodded in agreement. They left shortly after, glad that they would never have to deal with Glenn again.

"Well, what do you say to some Steve McQueen again tonight, Wilson?" House asked, as they left the hospital, arm in arm.

Wilson smiled and raised an eyebrow, "Are you talking about that mouse of yours or the movies?"

House chuckled and returned the smile. "Both."

The End

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, I hope you are satisfied with the end. This is not my last House fic, I assure you. Keep your eyes peeled for another one, coming soon!