It was silent for one, single split second after the collapse. Just one split second, and then everything erupted into more chaos.
People knew nothing about what to do, so they did everything. "Over here!" Everyone was shouting to everyone, so people were rushing around in circles not knowing where to go.
House watched the scene with shock. This was how they handled a crisis. "Hey!" He shouted, grabbing the arm of a passing attendant. "You need to make a plan. Not run around like bloody headless chickens?" He shouted vehemently, clutching the bicep so tightly he was sure he was cutting off blood circulation.
"We...I... I don't know what to do!" The man protested, eyes shining with fear.
"Useless!" House shouted, limp running as fast as he could to someone giving orders. "Hey, moron!" The man turned, looking pissed off. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Saving lives," he snapped, motioning for someone, somewhere to bring something over. House couldn't care less.
"You're going to lose lives if you don't do something!" He shouted in the man's face, causing himself to get pushed back roughly.
"We're running this," he told House adamantly. "If we need you, then we'll ask for you. So, for the time being, I'm going to have to ask you to back off, sir." He ended with sarcastically.
House had kept his fists clenched by his side, but now he grabbed the insufferable bastard up by his lapels, pinning him to a nearly shattered wall. "Listen, you idiot, you are going to get them out, and you are going to do it quickly, or so help me god, I will kick your ass so hard you won't sit down ever again, for as long as you live, which won't be long as I will personally kill you." He dropped the man roughly, but kept his steely gaze trained on the other's eyes. "Are we clear?" He said slowly, but venomously.
"Y-yes sir," he stuttered. "Of course."
"Now," House continued steely, "what are you going to do?"
"Tom!" The kid shouted, still watching House. "Here!" He shouted, beckoning a confident looking guy over.
"Yeah?" He panted, and House noted his heavy breathing and dust covered face. At least this guy was maybe trying to help.
"This guy," he motioned to House with his head, "says what's our plan?"
"Sir," he panted incredulously at House, "our plan is to get those people out. Whatever it takes."
Thank god. "How can I help?" House asked, switching to being helpful. All he wanted was to get Cuddy out safely.
"Are you personally involved?" Tom asked, shouted actually, over the noise of the chopper.
"No," House shook his head adamantly.
"Sure seems like it," Tom muttered, but didn't push the matter. "Okay, we need to ascertain about how far down they are before we do anything."
"And how do we do that?" House demanded.
"We're going to try and move some of the debris so we can sneak a camera down there," he relayed hurriedly, anxious to get to work. "And then we'll try and get an image and assess the damage."
He was going to ask what kind of damage they thought they might find, but that would be a waste as he knew the answer. He knew what they might find, and he most certainly didn't want to think about it.
"How can I help?" He repeated, wringing his hands.
"Just wait, for now," Tom instructed. "When we get a clearer idea of what's happened we'll need your help."
House nodded but followed them all the same, just wanting to be near enough to be in the loop of what was happening. He knew how bad this was, he knew that this was no joke... And that there was a very real possibility of Cuddy coming out of there in a body bag.
He felt the bile rise up his throat just thinking about that. He told himself not to, he told himself that he needed to be calm and rational... But once the thought was in his head how could he just ignore it?
He had to tell her, he had to convince her that Lucas was a mistake and that although it may seem crazy she could be happy with him. She could be happy with him, of that he was sure. And he needed to tell her that, for him and for her - and to prove Wilson wrong.
So he stood and watched, still and jittery all at the same time. They did seem to have some sort of idea of what they were doing which was assuring, but they then began to chip away at jumbled shards of rock House felt that familiar feeling of panic set in.
They'd had the secondary collapse, and now a third collapse... What promise was there that there wouldn't be a fourth? And who's to say what damage had been done?
As the collapse team continued whittling their way cautiously through, House played the waiting game, praying to find her alive.
.
Cuddy heard the man stirring before she saw him. She heard the spluttering, the 'I can't breathe' sounds that she'd heard so many times before. Sitting up, she winced and moaned, feeling pain flare up at every part of her body.
But he - either the collapse team member or the originally injured sick guy - needed her more than she needed herself. "I'm here," she whispered, dragging herself through the excruciating pain over to him. "Ssh," she soothed, in her best mother voice, "ssh..."
He was sputtering still, so using her one good arm - the other was out - she checked his throat for obstructions. None. "I think you swallowed some dust and fragments," she told him, cradling his head in her lap. The space they'd now managed to slide into was larger, more open, though minus any natural light.
"It's a miracle you're alive," she told him, stroking his forehead, which was covered in tiny cuts, like she assumed hers was.
He was crying, he was no more than a kid. She saw the letters 'coll' on his lapel. He was from the collapse team, so where was the... She glanced around where they'd landed. There was no one else, alive or not.
But... In the darkness, she thought she saw an arm. "I'll be back," she whispered, and crawled away, knees shooting pain but her ignoring it. She arrived there and grabbed the hand. The rest of the boy it was still attached to was buried. She was about to try and dig him out when her fingers were settled on his pulse point.
No pulse.
She roughly dropped the dead man's arm, tears welling up. She was stuck in an underground cave, under - again - god knows how may tonnes of rubble with a crying injured kid, a dead body, a severely dislocated shoulder and whatever other injuries she'd acquired.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
.
"We're through!" A shout echoed through the site, piquing the attention of everyone who'd been praying for a safe recovery. Even though that road was far from over this was a breakthrough - both metaphorical and literal.
House had been perched on a fallen lump of concrete, massaging his tightly cramped leg. Stress made it worse, and this was about as much stress as you could be under.
It was life's cosmic joke. They'd spent all their time chasing each other, running in circles, pushing and pulling. And now that House was ready and willing, and he knew that underneath it all Cuddy was too - just before he was going to tell her - she gets trapped under a building.
Pretty unfunny if you ask me.
As soon as House heard the call, he leapt up. He rushed over and joined them, shoving a few smaller people out of the way to get a better look. He could see a hole in the concrete about ten centimetres in diameter which went all the way down until they'd made it out of the concrete, and into a space.
A space which hopefully contained Cuddy.
"Is anyone down there?" House demanded, jerking Tom's shoulder back so he had to listen to him.
"We don't know," Tom exasperated. "We're about to find out."
House waited back as patiently as he could muster, secretly terrified as it sounded like no one had reacted to the drill. And a drill when you're trapped under concrete is something that you react to.
They threaded the camera through the opening, everyone waiting with bated breath. There was a moment before the picture came up, and then there it was, in all it's fuzzy glory. House craned his neck to see, but of course collapse members eager for a piece of the action jumped in front. House brushed them aside with his pinky finger.
"Out of my way," he spat gruffly, and the collection of now frightened faces parted like the red sea. "Is there anything?" He asked, taking his rightful place right beside Tom.
"It's not clear yet..." Tom murmured, turning the camera for a better vantage point. "I think - "
"What? What do you think?" House jumped in impatiently, peering intently at the screen.
"I think I see someone," Tom finished, and House thought that he could also make out a human-shaped shadow in the corner.
"Are they moving?" House asked, tentatively.
"Um... Yes!" Tom said thankfully, grinning. "There is movement!" He concluded, a ripple of achievement went through the onlookers.
"House?" A soft voice said, and it took them a moment to realise that it was emitting from the computer. "House, is that you?" A tearful voice asked shakily.
"Cuddy." House breathed a deep sigh of the utmost relief. "Cuddy."
"Yeah, saying my name over and over is going to help," she replied snarkily, crawling closer to the small camera. When her face came into view there was a collective wince among the watchers, House especially.
"You look like hell," he stated, now reassured that she was alive and kicking he'd reverted back to his always blunt self.
"You too," she snapped. She did look awful, her eyes were sunken and sallow and there was a gaping gash on her forehead which was trickling blood rapidly. There were a multitude of smaller cuts and bruises dotted all over her face, and House could see and painfully twisted shoulder.
"Where does it hurt?" He asked, being Dr House.
"Everywhere," was her snide remark. "I was crushed by a building. Twice."
"No need to be dramatic," House chided, but he said it with a soft edge to his voice.
"Because melodrama is exactly what is needed right now," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Ma'am?" Tom interrupted, after having watched the exchange between the two. "Ma'am, is there anyone else with you?"
"The collapse team member," she answered, and then House watched painfully as her eyes filled with tears, "the other man didn't make it," she finished softly.
Tom placed his head in his large hands and sighed. "Shit," he muttered. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she told him softly, but firmly. "He's gone."
"But you," House jumped in, "how are you?"
"Okay," she said tightly, giving a weak smile. "Shoulder's a little sore and I've got a bitch of a headache, but otherwise, I'm fine."
"And George?" Tom persisted, revealing his name.
"George," Cuddy said thoughtfully, glancing back at him. "George is...scared. And in pain. But alive."
"Good," Tom mumbled, with a slightly renewed sense of promise. "Ma'am, we're going to get you out as quickly and as efficiently as we can."
"I'll be here," she nodded, shuffling close to the camera.
Tom gave her one last fleeting look before leaving, briefing the team on their next moves.
"House," Cuddy whispered, looking straight at him, "don't go."
"I won't," he replied immediately. "I'm staying here."
"Thank you," she whispered again, and House winced as he saw the tears escape and slip down her bruised cheeks.
"Hey, don't cry," he soothed, "where's kick ass Cuddy, always good in a crisis?"
"She took a break," Cuddy sniffed, wiping her eyes. "And now you're stuck with hysterical Lisa."
"Do you want me to call Lucas?" He asked, although it pained him to do so.
"No," she answered quickly, much to House's relief. "No. Call Marina and check on Rachel, but no. Not Lucas."
"Sure," House smiled, happy with her reaction. "Anyone else you want to call?"
"No," Cuddy shook her head. "House... I want you. I'm scared and in pain and alone... And I trust you." She wept, and House wanted nothing more than to hold her and help her, but he couldn't, because she was buried under tonnes of rubble.
"I'm here," he promised, placing a hand on the screen. "And you can trust me, not going anywhere."
She put her own battered hand up so it was palm to palm with his. "Good. I need you, House," she admitted, no matter how embarrassing it felt. Now was not the time for petty quarrels.
"And I'm at your service," he bowed. "Now, lets get you out of there." He decided.
They sat with him soothing her, hands together on the screen, awaiting their next move.