Angel of Death
CH 3: Place & Time
BY: Wolfa Moon
Disclaimer: Made yah wait. Don't own. Only in my dreams.
People measure death in time. Time can only be measured in mortal moments that pass by to quick to register. To unknown what is seen in the dark. We wish for light but there is always dark. Over time your eyes will adjust but in the end, it is still dark.
Chase thinks as he takes a swig of his beer. The shady bar bustling with life around him. He stares at the dark figure in front of me. A new one in the nest, going to be pushed out soon and learn to fly.
House knelt down beside Wilson taking in his hand and finding his pulse. It was slow and steady. House turned over the injured hand and began to unravel it. Rene stood in the outskirts of shadow in the room.
"Take him home." House looked up at her.
"He needs attention."
"He needs not to be here. Take him someplace he feels safe." House looked Wilson up and down. Moving Wilson head up off his desk. He noticed a bruise on Wilson's right cheek.
"Jeez. What happened?" House looked at her in question. She began to move slowly toward them. She moved the same what she did around the old people and the little girl. "NO!" He held up a hand at her. "Stay back." Rene's face turned to shock as if slapped. Yet she still paused examining House with her eyes.
"I'm going to help."
"Don't." Please don't, he silently prayed. She cocked her head to the side.
"Let me, please." House nodded. She began to approach more cautiously toward them. Bowing down beside Wilson, Rene raised her hand and stroked it through his hair. Her wings shuddered as the pain rolled from him to her. Wilson gave a small groan at the sensation as the pain traveled out of him. His breathing steadied. House looked to her still shaking wings.
"What happened?" She just looked over at him.
"Can't tell you." She stood up. "Take him someplace safe."
"Why?" Am I trying to hide him from another reaper? House watched her stretch her wings. She flapped them a couple times causing a small breeze. Something is up in his little universe. But why can't he know. He looked at her giving up. "Where shall I go?" Rene just tilted her head and smiled. House looked into her eyes figuring it out. House pulled Wilson's arm around his neck and lifted him up. Wilson gave a small groan. There was more blood on his trousers and torso. Oh God! She is going to take him away from here. He set Wilson in his car and got in. Rene followed to the car. House stared her. His blue eyes pleading for all his might that his only friend wouldn't die. House has compassion and Wilson knows that and is the only one that gives an effort. House buckled Wilson in.
"Don't take him." She only gazed over his shoulder to see Wilson. Staring back into House's eyes unthreatening but reading deep into House's soul.
"He's not on my list." House looked in her eyes for truth. She just stared back. "Go. Now!" She looked around. "I'll meet you when I can." With that she vanished. House looked around as if expecting the shadows to move. He better move before they actually do.
Chase drank down another shot. The man across from him spinning the bottle between his two hands. He looked up as someone approached the table. Chase felt her arrive then see her. She laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry." Chase only answer to that was to scoot further into the booth so she could sit down. Rene turned to the third. He shuddered as her glowing eyes took him in.
"This him?" Chase nodded. Her eyes became more focused upon him. "Welcome to the club."
House dragged Wilson's sorry ass through his threshold. Wilson automatically unknowing headed to the couch.
"Oh no this way."
"Tired." Wilson spoke sluggishly. House directed them to his bedroom.
"That's right. My room."
"I am not having sex with you." House smirked. His friend was joking with him that was a good sign.
"In your dreams." House laid Wilson gently on the bed. Wilson flopped down like a dead weight. His friend looked like a hurt child. He was always amazed at how his friend did that. Must be the genes. Back to business, the bloody shirt and pants. House picked his friends legs and set them on the bed. They were mostly covered from his hips to just below his knees. House sat down beside his friend. His hands moved toward his button shirt. "I'm not getting fresh." House began to undo Wilson's shirt. The blood had soaked through but the shirt mostly absorbed it. Examining his friend's chest he noticed more bruises and scrapes then a wound that wouldn't cause this much blood lose. Okay to the now gay part. House began to undo Wilson's belt and unzip his pants. House checked Wilson's face. He was vast asleep. He began to pull down the pants. There were scraps and his knees were raw as if he skidded on them. Getting up and grabbing some supplies House came to the conclusion it's not Wilson's blood. Except for the hand. Sitting back down he took Wilson's hand and began to get to work. House sighed at the end of his work and looked up at Wilson. He seemed calm. Why wouldn't he, Rene was stroking his hair and face. "So are you finally going to tell me what happened?"
"John." Wilson answered with a whisper. House looked from him to her to explain.
"His brother." She said in a low comforting but steady tone. House nodded connecting the dots. Wilson had found his brother and a tussle had ensured. And something very bad happened.
"What happened to his brother?" She just looked down and hummed a soft lullaby to Wilson. "Nothing good I gather." House kept up the monologue waiting for an answer. "So Wilson found him, some drama happened, then tragedy." House moves up closer to his friend and Rene. Resting his hand on Wilson's forehead. "He feels cool."
"He's stressed." She noted.
"He always is." Rene reached across and touched House's arm. "He's going to be okay?" She looked over House's shoulder. House turned and saw a figure standing there. The stance was familiar and the face. Oh gods……..
TBC………. I know you hate it but what can I say. I'm imaginative and the idea keeps spreading. So you aren't the only ones screwed here. To much impute.