Cuddy's mouth was dry, her heart pounding as she pressed the receive button on her phone and raised it to her ear. She hesitated a moment, wincing at the obvious tremor in her own voice when at last she spoke.

"H-hello? Wilson?"

"Yeah." His voice was hoarse, weary. He sounded worse than she did. "It's me."

"Wilson…" Cuddy tried to keep her voice calm and steady. "Where are you? Are you and House all right?"

"No…" His voice was barely over a whisper, and Cuddy thought she heard the faint sound of quiet, breathless sobs on the other line. "… nothing's all right. Everything… That doesn't matter." Wilson's voice was somewhat calmer, as if he was trying to regain control of his emotions. "It… it won't matter. Soon. I just… I needed to tell you. I needed you to know that… I'm sorry."

An uneasy feeling began in the pit of her stomach at the final, fatalistic sound of his words. "What are you sorry for, Wilson?" she cautiously asked him. "What are you going to do?"

"No, that's not what I'm sorry for," Wilson objected, his voice taut with frustration. "I'm sorry because… I hurt you. I don't know… what I was thinking. I just sort of… freaked out. And… and I shouldn't have done that. I… I was trying to protect House, but… but I did it wrong. I've been doing everything wrong…"

"It's all right, Wilson," Cuddy insisted softly, her mind racing ahead of the conversation, desperately trying to think of a way to calm him as she walked quickly back up the sidewalk toward the police station. "Really, it's all right. It doesn't matter. It's not too late to fix this…"

"No, it's not all right," Wilson argued, his voice rising in frustration. "I almost killed you! It's not all right!" He paused, drawing in a shaky, audible breath before continuing in a tone of quiet resignation. "You're right about one thing. It's not too late to fix this. But… there's only one way to fix it…"

"Wilson, wait a minute," Cuddy pleaded, holding up a hand for silence as she walked up to the dispatcher's desk, making a point of emphasizing his name slightly while making pointed eye contact with the officer behind the desk. "Talk to me. Tell me how this happened... what's happened. I'm so confused, I just don't know what's happened to you..."

The young officer knew why she had spent most of the day at the police station, and instantly got the message when he heard Wilson's name. His eyes widened with realization and he nodded hurriedly, retreating back toward where the detectives' offices were, to find the one who had been handling the case so far.

"I don't think I could ever make you understand, no matter how hard I tried..." Wilson continued, his tears obvious in his despairing voice.

"Try, Wilson," Cuddy urged him. "Please try. I... I want to understand..."

Wilson began to tell her in halting, rambling words about how he had come to the conclusion following Amber's death that the outside world wasn't safe for people like House, who just seemed to attract danger and harm wherever they went, whatever they did -- how he had determined that the only way to protect House was to lock him away from the dangers of life and make sure that he was safe.

Cuddy felt a creeping chill steal over her with the reminder of how completely and utterly Wilson had lost his mind. The dangerous flaws in his reasoning were clear as he told her his story, explaining the faulty logic behind the decisions he'd made over the past few months. Her heart went out to House, who must have suffered so greatly in such captivity, and tears of sympathetic pain streaked her face. Still, she listened patiently, interjecting encouraging words or sounds whenever he paused, as the detective came out and silently gestured her through the doors and toward his office.

Once the door was closed behind them, he attached a wire to her cell phone and began typing into his computer, apparently trying to patch it into the call so that he could hear the conversation as well, without putting it on speaker phone. They couldn't take the chance that Wilson might hear a difference in the sound and become suspicious, and therefore cut off the only contact they had with him at the moment.

"I never meant to hurt him, Lisa, I swear!" Wilson was nearly sobbing by now. "But I just kept doing it, over and over, without even trying! All I wanted to do was to keep him safe! But nothing works! There's nothing I can do anymore! When I try to keep him away from the danger -- then I become the danger! Just tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

Cuddy kept her tone calm and reassuring as she answered him. "Wilson, I know you only want to keep House safe. I understand that. But you have to know that this is not the way. You can't make every last decision for him. You can't protect him if he doesn't want to be protected. Every person has the right to make those decisions for themselves, you know? What kind of a life can he possibly have if it's a life as a prisoner?"

"That's exactly my point." Wilson's voice was deadly calm by this point, and Cuddy felt her hopes sinking at the sound. "It's no kind of life -- for him or for me. If he's just going to spend it miserable, then what's the point? I can't protect him. I can't protect anyone. And I can't stand to watch him self-destruct. So... that only leaves one option."

"Wilson, no!"

Cuddy objected, her voice rising slightly with her alarm as she understood what he was saying. The detective looked equally horrified at the prospect, but he held up a warning hand, silently urging her to maintain control, and not risk scaring Wilson away. She struggled to fight through her emotional reaction and make her tone even again as she continued in a stern, authoritative tone she had mastered during her years as a hospital administrator.

"You don't get to make that choice, Wilson. Do you understand that? It's not just your life you're talking about, and you do not get to play God here! Whether he's happy or whether he's miserable – whether he lives another fifty years or dies tomorrow – for better or for worse, it should be House's choice!"

Wilson was quiet for a very long time, and Cuddy realized that she was holding her breath, desperately hoping that she was somehow getting through to him. Finally, he spoke again, and his voice was strangely, unsettlingly calm.

"Do you want to say goodbye to House?"

Her stomach dropped with fear at the dark implications of that question – as well as the realization that he was purposefully, plainly deciding to ignore her logical argument – but Cuddy knew that right now, anything they could do to stall Wilson from taking his intended course of action would be a good thing. The detective had passed her a note which she'd hurriedly scanned, telling her that the FBI agents closest to where Wilson and House were hiding were a mere fifteen minutes away.

If I can just keep him on the phone a little while longer...

"Of... of course I do, Wilson. Thank you."

A moment later, she heard House's hoarse, slightly dazed voice on the phone. "H-hello?"

"House, it's Cuddy. Is Wilson listening to us right now? Is the phone on speaker or anything?"

House's tone was carefully even and quiet, as if he was doing his best not to further upset his mad captor. "No," he answered softly.

"Okay, good, I need you to listen to me," she continued hurriedly, her voice trembling with the tension and fear of the situation. "Help is on the way, okay? They're only a few minutes away. Whatever happens, just... try to stall him. Try to keep him from doing anything crazy for just ten or fifteen minutes longer, all right?"

"O-okay," House replied, sounding subdued and more than a little confused. "All right."

"Everything's going to be fine, okay? Everything's going to be just fine..."

"Okay," House repeated, sounding only slightly surer.

In the background, Cuddy heard Wilson's voice snap, "That's enough. Give me the phone."

"Thank you," House added in a rush, as an afterthought. "And... I'm sorry, and... goodbye..."

"No, House, no, this is not goodbye!" Cuddy insisted, frustrated and devastated by the defeat she heard in his voice. "House, this is not goodbye, damn it!"

She couldn't be sure whether or not House had heard her words before there were a few moments of muffled staticky sound while the cell phone was returned to Wilson's possession. A moment later, Wilson's voice spoke over the line again, composed and frighteningly in control.

"I have to let you go now, Lisa."

"No! Wilson, don't do this. Don't do what you're thinking of doing..."

"I can't keep talking right now. I just... needed you to know that I'm sorry. And... to understand why I have to do this..."

"Wilson? Wilson! Don't..."

"That's all. Thank you for everything. I'm going to hang up now."

"Wilson, no! Wilson, wait, wait, no!"

But the phone had already gone dead in her grasp. She lowered it and stared at it in horrified disbelief, her hand trembling violently with the impact of what she knew was about to take place on the other end of that line.

House… oh, God, House… no…