044. Surgery
Consequences
Wilson arrived at the hospital while House was in surgery. He'd been away on a holiday with his wife in an attempt to resurrect what he could sense was a marriage rapidly heading south. He wasn't entirely sure how successful the whole thing had been but he was hoping for the best. When they'd gotten home he'd almost automatically checked the answering machine while Annie went upstairs to unpack. The first few messages were mundane and he ignored them but then came one that made him sit up suddenly.
"Wilson? Are you there?" came House's voice, sounding oddly hoarse and full of something Wilson was almost prepared to call fear. He frowned then concentrated on the rest of the message. "Ah, shit. I can't remember when you get back. Jesus, Jimmy, I think something's wrong with my leg. I went into the clinic at Princeton-Plainsboro but they were completely useless. Fuck, it hurts, Jimmy. Like somebody's jammed a damn ice pick into my leg." There was a pause and Wilson could hear a door opening and closing in the background on the tape. "Stacy's here. I'm going to get her to take me into the hospital again. Call me."
The message ended abruptly and the next couple were from friends of Annie's. Then came the message that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
"James, it's Stacy." Her voice was tearful and tense. "Greg…Greg's hurt. I think you get back today. Please come in to the hospital. We're at Princeton-Plainsboro."
Wilson leapt to his feet and grabbed his car keys.
"I'm just going into the hospital," he called upstairs.
There was the sound of footsteps and his wife appeared at the top of the stairs. "What? Now?"
"Something's wrong with Greg," he said worriedly. "Stacy left a message this morning. She sounded…bad."
The frown that had grown on Annie's face disappeared at his last statement. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Wilson shook his head. "No…no, it's alright. If I need you, I'll call."
Annie nodded and Wilson hurried out of the house. He drove as fast as he could to the hospital then strode quickly through the doors, stopping at Cuddy's office. However she was nowhere to be seen. He then cornered a nurse at Admitting and got House's room number.
When he got up to the room, he found Stacy pacing the corridor, her face contorted with worry and fear and tears flowing freely. Lisa Cuddy was leaning against the wall, her expression stony but with more than a hint of guilt. Before Wilson could ask any questions, Stacy caught sight of him and hurried over. She opened her mouth but broke down and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.
Wilson rather awkwardly, patted her back as he looked at Cuddy with confusion. She pushed away from the wall and walked over, helping to calm Stacy and get her sitting down in one of the nearby chairs.
"What's going on?" he demanded once Stacy was seated. "There was a message on my machine from House. He said something about his leg. Then I get a message from Stacy saying he's…hurt."
"He left a message for you?" Cuddy said with surprise.
Wilson frowned and nodded. "I think he'd forgotten when we got back. He said his leg was hurting, that he'd been to the clinic but that didn't help. That he was going to get Stacy to drive him into the hospital." He hesitated. "He sounded…scared."
Cuddy grimaced as Stacy gasped something that might have been a sob.
"He's…had an infarction in his right thigh," Cuddy said bluntly. "There was a…problem with the diagnosis."
Wilson's face froze into a blank expression as Cuddy explained everything that had happened in the last few days. The blank expression remained until she explained where House was right now and how he'd gotten there then he stared at Stacy with disbelief.
"Are you insane?" he burst out, ignoring the sudden protest from Cuddy. "Did you even tell him about this option?"
"I…no," Stacy said tearfully. "James, you know what he would have said. It was killing him. The pain was killing him and he wouldn't let them take his leg. It was the only choice."
"But you didn't ask him," Wilson said flatly.
"He would have said no," Stacy replied.
"You should have asked him," Wilson said harshly then he turned to Cuddy. "How long will he be in surgery?"
She glanced down at her watch then gave him a look full of guilt and sorrow. "It should be nearly finished."
Wilson scrubbed his face with one hand, not knowing what to say.