"Life and Limb"
Chapter Six – "Offering a Knuckle Sandwich"
By: Purpleu
"The Executioner?" Slick walked back into the waiting room, abandoning his watch over Wilson. "My crew and I cleaned up after one of his hits. There was no one to take to the hospital. Four dead, mother, father and two kids."
"How do you know he always asked that question?" inquired Thirteen. "Are you ready to die? If he killed all his victims…"
"One of his hits went wrong, and the vic lived long enough to tell us about it. Of course, now we have…" Williams indicated Lydia, Annie and with a nod of his head to the door, Wilson. "To confirm that it was him. Plus some bystanders who were not a part of the robbery, overheard him say that. He said it loudly like he was bragging."
"I will never forget the look in his eyes or the sound of his voice," Lydia said staring at the floor. "And all I could hear was Annie screaming in the background, and then the click of the gun…" Lydia had tears running down her cheeks as she forced herself not to cry full on, not knowing when Marianne would return with the kids. House was also grateful she didn't cry; if he had no tolerance for emotional displays before, he was at less than zero after donating the plasma to Wilson.
"Ironically, we always tell people to just hand over whatever a robber wants. Offering resistance is the worst thing you could do. But, in this case, it actually saved all of your lives," Detective Williams said.
"How so?" Annie asked.
"By you refusing to handover your necklace, you screwed up his rhythm, his M.O. He always took the stuff from his victims, and then killed them with a single shot to the middle of the forehead. He went for your necklace, Dr. Wilson tried to protect you, and in the struggle the gun went off. Normally, he would have taken your things and…Bang! Bang! Bang!" Williams pointed his index finger and thumb like a gun and pointed at Annie's forehead, Lydia's, and pointed toward the door. "The three bullets that are…or were…in Dr. Wilson, were meant for your heads." Annie started to slowly rock back and forth as she began to cry.
"Oh, my God…oh…no! No! I should have given it to him, I don't want James to be hurt like this. Oh my God, I'm so sorry…" She looked at Wilson's parents and saw the pain in their eyes; Annie bent over from the waist, sobs racking her body.
"Another one who needs the wax sucked out," House said loudly, his patience shot. "Didn't you hear what he said? It was because you were a stubborn ass that I'm only deciding what kind of hip Wilson should have; not them," House gestured toward Wilson's parents, "Deciding what his casket should look like." Annie looked at House, hoping to see something of the guy she had been hanging out with the past few months. The man who made her best friend, and her niece and nephew, happier than ever before. The guy who helped her when he saw he struggling to set up a planter on the back patio, and made fun of her, calling her "Farmer Annie." The man who knew how to make Wilson smile and laugh without saying a word. That was the person she so desperately wanted to see looking back at her; but he wasn't there.
"I heard him," Annie said trying to catch her breath. "I...I just feel…like this is my fault. I'm the one who suggested the restaurant."
"It's not your fault, Miss Harris," Williams said. "You can't live your life hiding away, afraid of going anywhere, or doing anything; that's no way to live."
"She's tried that already…worked fine until I uncovered her secret hideaway," chimed in House.
"Greg!" Lydia exclaimed. She knew House was not in a good state, mentally or emotionally, but she would not let Annie be fodder for his wisecracks. Lydia could see Annie was staring off into space very frequently; the last thing she needed was for Annie to withdraw inside herself, the way she did after the attack by her boyfriend and his cronies.
"If anything," Williams said, unaware of what House was talking about, "in a roundabout way, you saved your own life, plus two others," he said to Annie. "To try and assign fault to you or Ms. Strohman or Dr. Wilson…is nothing short of ridiculous."
"Well, this sure as hell is somebody's fault," House said putting the half-eaten plate of food aside and struggling to his feet. "How are things going?" he called out to Slick.
"There's a lot of bone fragments; the head of the femur must have shattered badly and left pieces everywhere. Ellis and Chase are still picking them out," Slick reported. He took a few steps toward House. "I don't think we need to keep this going," he said handing House his phone. House looked at it and saw that he and Lydia were still connected by Skype.
"You can turn your phone off now," House said to Lydia. She picked up her phone from the table next to her and pushed the button to end the Skype connection. She saw she had a message; her heart sank when she read it.
"Greg, check your phone; I think you have a message from your mother's doctors," she said standing up and walking to him.
"I'm not going to talk to them right now. As far as getting my permission to do anything to her, they can do whatever they want; they probably care more about her than I do right now. If she's already croaked, tell them to check with the good reverend as to what the plans are; they've probably already picked out a plot together." The room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Claudia Wilson was the one to break the quiet.
"Greg, I know you're probably not thinking straight right now. Your father was in the military; your mother has the right to…"
"My mother doesn't have a right to anything. She sure as hell didn't want to lay down next to John House while they were living; why spoil things by dealing with him for eternity, if you believe in such bull." House limped out of the waiting room, past Slick, who was still in the hall, and into the observation room. Lydia could feel that all eyes were on her, as if she had the answer to why House reacted the way he did. It had to be more than a little troubling to hear that one of the bullets they just dug out of your best friend's body was meant to kill your girlfriend. On top of that, to find out your mother's doctors were calling? Wilson wasn't out of surgery, the young man they admitted today had an illness that they hadn't even been able to start diagnosing because of the shooting…Ach, was fur ein Chaos! Such a mess! Who could possibly deal with all of that?
"Are you alright?" Tom had moved over to Lydia and put his arm around her. She buried her head in his shoulder.
"Don't let Greg see me crying. He's having a hard enough time dealing with all of this." Tom turned so that his back was to the door and Lydia couldn't be seen.
"Lydia, you have every right to cry under the circumstances," Tom said. "I know his relationship with his mother is complicated, but if he doesn't hold it together, he's going to be of no use to anyone."
"What's going on with his mother?" Henry Wilson asked. "I take it she's in the hospital."
"Yes, but not here. She's in Virginia." Lydia told the Wilsons about the phone call House had received in the middle of the night telling him his mother had a stroke, and the one he had received earlier this evening; that now there were cardiac issues involved.
"I'm surprised he didn't want to go down there right away," Mrs. Wilson said. "After all, it is his mother."
"In name only," House said as he returned to the room to get some coffee. "I actually called her 'Incubator' as a young child. It was far more accurate that any maternal moniker."
"Greg, being a mother, or a parent for that matter, is a very difficult thing…" explained Mrs. Wilson.
"So was being their son," snapped House. "I'd go into it in more detail, but you're already on their side of the fence. No sense in closing the barn door when the bullies have already broken it down." House finished fixing his coffee and was about to leave the waiting room, when Henry Wilson blocked his way.
"What did we ever do to you that you have this…this attitude with us? You're an important part of James' life, and we've always welcomed you into our home and our family. What…"
"I've never met all of the family. Take Funny Uncle Jack, I believe his name was. He unfortunately had a close relationship with all three of your sons. And either you were incredibly naïve and stupid, or you turned a blind eye until sons one and three said 'enough' and brought things out of the closet. The end result was you blamed the one person who had the balls to say no to the guy; you continue to blame him to this day." Henry Wilson was seething with anger, a good mask to hide his embarrassment at House revealing a well-kept family secret.
"You have no right to comment on a situation you know very little about," he began. "You only know one side of the story…"
"I know Wilson's; that's good enough for me," House replied. He grabbed a slice of pound cake to go along with his coffee and made his way to the observation room. Annie looked over to Lydia; when their eyes met, she realized that her friend knew about Wilson's childhood trauma. The rest of the room did not, nor should they have been privy to such information. But House had let the cat out of the bag, and it would be up to Lydia to try and do damage control, as always.
"Mr. Wilson, Greg is very protective of James; he feels that at times, James is too nice for his own good. You're right, he only knows one side of the story. But coming on top of this," Lydia said gesturing to the O.R. "He doesn't care what the other side of the story is. His only concern is for James."
"Does he think we don't love James?" Mrs. Wilson asked. "Because we do, very much. It…it was a very difficult situation; I mean, who knows how to handle something like that…"
"Claudia, enough!" Henry Wilson said. "We can talk things over, in private," he emphasized, "When James is back on his feet."
"I…I just had no idea he was so upset that he was telling the world," Mrs. Wilson went on, not heeding her husband's warning.
"Claudia! Drop it!" Claudia Wilson bent her head down and fiddled with the tissues in her hand. Annie stood up and walked over to Lydia.
"I need to stretch my legs," she said with a knowing look to her friend.
"I'll go with you," Lydia replied. "Maybe we can find Marianne and the kids." Lydia turned and surveyed the room. "You'll be alright here?" The question was directed to all in the room except the Wilsons; the others were the ones who would take over care of the coupe while she and Annie took a break.
"We'll be fine," Thirteen said. "Go see how the kids are doing." Lydia nodded gratefully as she and Annie made their way down the hall.
"Annie, I'm so sorry for what Greg said before. You know if he was thinking properly, he would never say anything like that about you."
"Lydia," Annie said as she stopped walking. "That's Greg. I've heard him when I've come to visit James at work; I've heard him when he comes home all pissed about not being able to figure out a case…I heard it at Mayfield. Even when I was still unresponsive, I heard him; he comes through loud and clear. But I also know, that the times that he's the loudest, the most disagreeable, the cruelest…those tend to be the times he cares the most. He's terrified of losing James," she said tearing up. "Maybe even more than I am." Lydia looked surprised. "Don't get me wrong, you were right when you said James is love of my life. We've…we've even talked about future plans a little." Annie saw the look on Lydia's face. "Don't get your bridesmaid dress ready yet. We said we'll wait until we've been together closer to a year before he goes jewelry shopping."
"You don't need a ring; I got engaged without one," Lydia said ruefully.
"Well my inconsiderate, unthinking, jackass of a brother CAN NOT be compared to James," Annie said indignantly.
"No, that's for sure." Lydia looked at Annie. "I know what you mean about how upset Greg is over all of this. James is the one and only true friend Greg has ever had. They've been through so much together, good and bad. I really do think that Greg looks at James as the brother he never had."
"He does; he told James that the other night, when they went out for pizza. Well, not in so many words, of course, but…they talked about a lot of things that night." Annie looked at Lydia "Including James' horrid experience as a teenager. I couldn't believe he had never told Greg before then."
"Greg only told me when I took a walk with him to the phlebotomy lab before. James told you why he didn't tell Greg sooner, didn't he?" Lydia asked. Annie nodded. "By the same token, Greg told me he saw signs of a kid who was always put down and blamed for everything, just like he was. But he didn't ask James any questions about the way his parents treated him. Neither one wanted to think of the other as going through the hell each knew too well."
"It's a shame it stopped them from talking to each other; James said he was so wanting to hear Greg say that it was OK, that he understood why James didn't ask."
"Like you said before, Annie; that's Greg. They talked about a lot of things that night including what Tom recently discovered about his leg and the prospect of an operation. That would definitely put Greg in the wrong mindset." Annie nodded sadly as they began to walk again.
"I guess when things calm down, they'll work things out in their own way," Annie said with a sigh. "Just like we always do." She reached over and put her arm around Lydia. "You know, thinking back…I don't think we've ever had a fight in all the years we've known each other." Lydia shook her head.
"No, we haven't. I mean we've gotten annoyed with something the other had said or done, but never an all-out fight." Lydia put her head down and laughed. "Of course, you can't really count the ten years you decided keep quiet and let me win any difference of opinion we may have had." Annie started laughing, too.
"I didn't even get the chance to tell my side of the story on anything back then," she said hugging Lydia closer. Annie stopped and reached up to brush aside Lydia's hair. There the bandage was staring her clearly in the face. "I was so afraid I was going to lose you, right in front of me. I screamed for help as I held James, but I looked over and saw it was you standing there with the guy; I saw the gun to your head." Annie lightly touched the bandage and ran her fingers down Lydia's face. "I'd go crazy if anything had happened to you." Annie started crying as Lydia took her in her arms.
"I'm here, sweetie. All of us are here. Some a little more beat up than others, but we survived and we're going to help each other pull ourselves together." Lydia took a napkin out of her pocket and gave it to Annie, who began to wipe her face. Suddenly, Lydia heard her children's voices; sure enough, in a matter of seconds, Marianne came around the corner with Ben and Elise in tow.
"Mommy! Look what the food machine had!" Elise was holding up a peanut butter and chocolate chip granola bar. "Ben was able to get one, too."
"With all the food we have in the other room, you had to buy these?" Lydia asked. "Or should I say Aunt Marianne bought them?" Lydia looked at Marianne who was shaking her head.
"We took a little walk and found the vending machines on this floor. I guess they're for the poor slobs who don't get a spread like you did," Marianne laughed. "For some reason, Ben decided to bang on the machine, and we heard something drop. The kids checked in the slot where the food comes out, and there were the two granola bars."
"Talk about the luck of the Irish," Annie said teasing Marianne.
"Now, now. You've got a bit of the Erin in you, too. Don't go making fun," said Marianne waving a finger.
"Mommy, can we eat these now?" Elise asked. Lydia knew it was past eleven and possibly close to midnight.
"I don't want you eating too much sugar this late," Lydia said as they began walking back to the waiting room. "Aunt Marianne will never get you to sleep."
"Aw, Mom, we don't want to go home." Ben said. "Can't we stay until we can talk to Wilson?"
"Honey, he won't be awake for a while, hours probably. He's not even out of surgery yet. The doctor was still trying to clean out the broken pieces of bone. When Aunt Annie and I started walking down this way a few minutes ago, they were nowhere near ready to put the artificial hip in."
"Will Wilson need a cane like House to walk?" Elise asked. "'Cause if he did, I think we should get them canes that match."
"Oh, I'm sure the two of them would just love that," Marianne said rolling her eyes.
"Mare, where are Tommy and Shelly?" Annie asked. "I would have thought that your two wouldn't want to miss out on any of the action."
"Tommy and Shelly are with my neighbor, Margie. Both have to go to school tomorrow; Shelly has a class trip to the Liberty Science Center and Tommy's class is holding a spelling bee to see who represents the classroom in the school competition."
"My spelling bee is on Tuesday," Ben piped up. "I've been studying the words over and over."
"You spell very well to start with," Annie said hugging her nephew. "I'm sure you'll do fine." Lydia was about to talk to the kids about missing school tomorrow, possibly Friday if everything was still crazy. Monday was Columbus Day, so they would have a long weekend to start with; maybe a slightly longer one wouldn't be a bad idea. As she opened her mouth to speak, the sound of House's voice stopped her.
"I don't think you're going to walk out of the operating room to try and stop me." House took several steps out of the observation room and ran smack into the ladies and the kids. He looked down at Ben and Elise. "Haven't you gotten these two out of here yet?" Lydia could see that the kids were taken back. They had seen House in a foul mood when a case was going badly, but this was something different.
"We didn't want to go home until we talk to Wilson," Ben explained. "But then Mom told us it would be hours before he was awake." Hearing the child express how long it would be, on top of the chatter coming from the O.R. about more fragments, more bleeding, another unit of blood, which meant they would need more plasma, just set House off.
"You want to be a doctor when you grow up?" Ben nodded reluctantly. "You want to see what you're in for?" House grabbed Ben by the arm and dragged him into the observation area.
"Greg, no!" Lydia yelled. She started to walk toward the room when Elise started crying and reaching for her mother.
"House, I don't want to see it," the boy said turning his head away from the window. House shook his head.
"All you can do is talk about wanting to be a doctor, but show you some real blood and you turn into a wuss." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, House felt a sickening wave wash over him. Closing his eyes did no good to erase the memory of being fifteen, maybe sixteen, and finding a dog limping down one of the roads on the base. The dog was a mutt, a friendly little thing with black, tan and white coloring. He knew his parents would never let him keep the animal; nor would they assist in bringing it to a vet. "All who are wounded are a burden to those around them; they should be put out of their misery," he remembered his father saying. He managed to hide the dog in his garage for two days while his father was away and his mother gone most of the time, campaigning for one of her social causes. He cared for the dog as best he could, and Greg swore on the morning of the second day, he was moving around better. But when Greg came home from school, a horrible sight met him: the dog was lying by the road, bloodied from having been hit by a car. Greg saw that the garage door was open; he knew he didn't leave it that way.
"So sorry I hit the poor little thing," the neighbor was saying. "Didn't you see him run past you in the driveway?" he asked John House.
"No, I didn't," John said curtly and coldly. He gave his son a look, but no words were exchanged.
"I'll go get a shovel; I can make a nice little grave for him in my backyard." The neighbor hurried away. Young Greg knelt down by the dog, trying to figure out if there was something he could do, some way he could save the poor pup.
"What's the matter? Can't help the damn thing?" Greg shook his head as tears filled his eyes. "All you've talked about the past few months is how you're going to be a great doctor someday; but when it comes time to do something real and useful, you bawl like a baby." John House walked away leaving his wounded son and the dead dog by the side of the road…
"Greg?" Lydia had come into the room. She was furious with House at first, but then saw the look on his face and the few tears rolling down his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Ben looking up at him, the child's hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry I didn't look; I just don't want to see Wilson or you or any one I love hurt," the boy said through his own tears. Any one I love. He's talking about you, you ass, House thought to himself. How the hell do you love someone who just did what I did to the kid?
"Come on, honey," Lydia said leading her son out of the room. "Let's get some water and maybe something not so sweet for a snack," she said looking at the granola bars in Elise's hands. That's how, House thought. You have someone like Lydia for a mother. "Are you alright?" House turned and saw that Lydia had re-entered the room.
"No, and I can't even say, 'But I'm holding it together.' Cause as you saw, I'm not." House hung his head down." I have a lot of apologizing to do to a lot of people when this is over; and that's not going to come easily from me."
"Well, it's a good thing you'll have time to practice," Lydia said with her arms folded. "What happened down there?" she inquired indicating the operating room.
"There are bone fragments wedged in everywhere, probably because the gun was fired at such close range. They're going to have to hang another bag of blood soon; hopefully it can wait until Ellis starts to set the hip in. That'll be Wilson's fourth unit of blood, which means he's going use the second unit of plasma I gave. He'll need another unit if they go beyond four of whole blood."
"Greg, you can't be thinking of donating again. I mean, it can be done, but look how it knocked you out the first time. I would think you'd want to keep your wits about you to oversee James' post-operative care."
"I can bleed and write orders at the same time," House argued. Geduld, Lydia, Geduld. Patience. Lydia had seen House stressed to the max when he had to deal with Malcolm Hunter; he had done and said some crazy, hurtful things…but this was beyond anything Lydia had seen before. It was like Annie said: the worse House behaved, the more deeply he cared. But he was losing it, as far as she was concerned. Like it or not, she was taking matters into her own hands. Lydia nudged House out of the way and reached for the talk button on the intercom.
"Dr. Foreman, Dr. Chase? Do you anticipate the need to give Dr. Wilson another unit of blood?" The two glanced up to observation room.
"Unfortunately, yes," Chase answered. "We're going to need another twenty to thirty minutes to make sure the area is clean."
"The last thing we would want to have happen is to bring Dr. Wilson back into surgery,' Dr. Ellis said with a quick glance upward. House stepped up next to Lydia; he was so worn out that he didn't even seem to mind that she took charge of things.
"Wilson needs more plasma," House said. "How soon?"
"He finished receiving the first unit of plasma about half an hour ago," Foreman said. "I'd say at the rate things are going…"
"He has another half an hour to an hour before he needs more," Ellis noted. "We seem to be reaching an end point with the bone fragments; the area is almost ready to receive the replacement unit. Dr. Chase's estimate is accurate for the timing of things." Lydia turned to House.
"So you'll be using the second unit of plasma when you start the fourth unit of blood?" Lydia asked. Ellis nodded. "And if you need to give Wilson a fifth unit of blood?"
"Highly unlikely, but I would like to have another unit of plasma on hand," Ellis replied.
"Greg, you cannot handle donating again in that short amount of time. Two is pushing the limit; three is crossing the line. You'll be in no shape to be by James' bedside when he wakes up. If he doesn't see you there, he's going to know something is wrong and get upset. If you don't want to listen to me, think about what he would say to you." House sighed.
"He'd tell me that I think I'm indestructible…and that I'm an idiot."
"And he'd be right," Lydia said. Without looking at her, House nodded his agreement.
"Call the vampires; ask them to call their fellow ghouls over at Princeton General." Lydia left the observation room and headed into the waiting area; she remembered seeing an in-house phone there.
"What the hell happened in there?" Tom asked quietly as he, Slick and Thirteen came over to her. She held up her hand as the phlebotomy lab answered. After making the request for the extra plasma, Lydia turned to the three around her. She saw that the kids were busy talking to the Wilsons, Marianne and Annie; Detective Williams had left, so there were no unwanted ears around.
"Greg is so overwhelmed by everything going on…it's scaring me. I know about rude comments and crazy actions by him; I've seen it first-hand," Lydia said remembering things at Mayfield. "But this is too much all at once. We can't do much to help the patient in the middle of the night except stabilize him; in the morning everyone is going to be exhausted. I can start making some inquiries of the fire houses he worked in; maybe in the afternoon, go to the patient's house to look for a cause to his problem…"
"What about transferring the patient to another hospital?" asked Slick. "I'm sure House won't be happy with the idea, but…"
"Won't be happy?" exclaimed Thirteen as intently as she could without letting the others in the room hear her. "House would find out where we sent him, steal an ambulance, and kidnap him back. Bad idea."
"He is protective over his patients," Tom noted.
"Especially the ones he hasn't been given a fair crack at," Thirteen replied. She was about to say something else, when she paused and thought for a moment. "The guy's wife is with him in his room. I know it's late, but maybe I can get the location of where he's stationed and what shifts he works."
"Wait a minute, you said he was a firefighter?" Slick said to Lydia. "I may be able to access some basic information on the guy through a web site I have access to as a fellow first responder. What's his name?"
"Slick, we can't tell you," Lydia said reluctantly. "With all the HIPPA rules and things…I'm sure the young man would be eternally grateful for any help he gets; so would his wife, but…"
"Lydia, if Slick can find out something that can help you guys narrow things down on the case, you'll be helping House keep part of his sanity," Tom pointed out. He knew bringing up the idea of helping House would appeal to her.
"You're right; it would help," she conceded. Lydia rolled her eyes. "And to think I'm on the committee to develop stronger enforcement of privacy laws."
"Tell you what," Slick said. He took a piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket and handed it to Thirteen. "Write down the guy's name on there, and I'll…accidently…look over your shoulder as you do." Thirteen gave him a look.
"You are kidding, right? I'm still writing it down for you; I'm still giving up information."
"No, you're not writing it for me, you're…just writing it, and I happened to see it."
"That's ridiculous."
"Look we can argue the merits of this later; start moving the pen." Thirteen looked at Lydia.
"This is why we don't date each other," she said. "Can you imagine what we'd be like?"
"Oh, I don't know…I think you sound a lot like Greg and I do sometimes," Lydia teased.
"Save your fantasies for another time," Slick said. "Write the name!" Thirteen was going to write a gag name, but she thought the joke had gone far enough. Slick hovered over her as she wrote down, "Kevin Sheeler." Tom and Lydia saw the shocked look on Slick's face; Thirteen was pretending not to notice him looking, but finally turned around.
"Do you know the guy?" Slick nodded.
"About twenty-five to thirty, buzz-cut light brown hair, tattoo on his right arm that says U.S.M.C. and a picture of a bulldog." Slick leaned against the nearby wall. "My ambulance group doesn't go by city limits or even fire districts. We're private, so we can answer calls from anywhere within a certain radius. I met this kid at that big warehouse fire a few months back, right before I met you guys. The fire went to five alarms, so we were called in to assist. Kevin caught the edge of a flashback; there were so many injuries at that fire due to the chemicals that were stored in the warehouse. I had noticed the tattoo, and we had begun talking about the Marines. I did a four-year stint in the Corps; it's where I started my medical training."
"So you know where his work firehouse is located?" Lydia asked. Slick nodded. "What about the one he volunteers at?"
"I wouldn't know anything about that; I don't know where he lives."
"When you saw him at that warehouse fire, it was at night. At least I'm assuming so since you usually work the graveyard shift," Thirteen said.
"Yeah, that particular call was in the middle of the night. But a lot of firehouses have the guys work a three and three: three days on, three days off. They'll sleep at the firehouse for the three days, so they can go out on a call at any time. Then they go home for three days."
"So you're looking to get round the clock info on the calls he went out on, for all the days he worked in…say the past month," Tom said.
"Makes it a little harder since it wasn't only one shift," Lydia noted. "Alright, I'll go and talk to the wife, confirm the name of the firehouse he works in, and what kind of time he puts in where he volunteers."
"Find out the name of a supervisor that we should talk to in both places," said Slick. "Especially in the unit where he works; bureaucracy is a wonderful thing."
"You may need to get permission from the patient or his wife, if he can't give consent, to examine the contents of his locker," advised Tom.
"Even then you may hit a brick wall," Slick said.
"We may have to sneak in to the station house to get what we need," Lydia said, thinking over the situation. "Distract them in some way while someone gets a look at the guy's locker." She had been staring at the ground while pondering things; now Lydia looked up and saw that Tom, Slick, and Thirteen were all giving her looks. "What?"
"You've been hanging around House too long," Thirteen said shaking her head.
"And I plan on continuing to do so in the future," said Lydia with a smile.
"Hey, just got some good news from I.C.U.," said Thirteen looking at her phone. "The patient's temp had gone down slightly, but enough not to be considered in the danger zone. His vitals have also stabilized a bit, too."
"I have an idea," Lydia said. "You go in and tell Greg about the improvement in the patient's condition, while I run downstairs and talk to the wife. Then when I come back up, I can tell Greg that we at least have some concrete leads to follow to find the source of whatever has contaminated the patient's leg."
"Good plan," Tom said. "I'll stay here and make sure the group over there stays distracted," he said with a nod to the kids and adults across the room. "Slick, you can help Thirteen manage House…if such a thing can be done."
"She's figured it out," Thirteen said with a glance at Lydia.
"I haven't figured anything out. Greg is…an enigma; all I've done is make lucky guesses," Lydia said with a sigh. "Come on, Greg and Lydia Number Two…get to work on Dr. House." Slick and Thirteen shot Lydia a look.
"Please! I'm…sort of seeing someone right now," Thirteen said, almost shyly. "There's only one problem."
"Yeah, I think the new girl is hot," Slick said.
"I told you, I saw her first," Thirteen said giving him a playful slap on the arm.
"OK, OK…we'll figure out the social dynamics later; get in there," Tom said indicating the observation room. Lydia waited until she saw Thirteen and Slick engaging House in conversation; then she slipped away to the elevators.
"How's he doing?" Thirteen asked House as he stared down at the operating room.
"Ellis thinks he and Chase have gotten all the bone fragments out; Foreman's looking things over for any neurological problems. Taub is trying to defend his prior specialty in the medical profession."
"Plastic surgeons helped lower the number of divorces that happen in this country in the past twenty years…" Taub said.
"No, they didn't," replied Chase. "All they did was make men wish they fell asleep and woke up next to Pamela Anderson. You guys did more harm than good."
"When Pamela Anderson was a sex symbol, you were still having wet dreams," House said into the intercom. "At least we know who you were thinking of. Now that you've had that little release of pre-pubescent fantasies, could you please concentrate on Wilson?"
"Don't worry, Dr. House," Dr. Ellis said. "I'm the one doing most of the work on Dr. Wilson, and this talk hasn't affected me in the least. I've always preferred brunettes." House managed to smile at Ellis' comment. His reputation matched his real life dealings to a tee. House knew the situation with his leg had nothing to do with orthopedics, but…maybe Ellis was a good guy to talk to…
"House?" He pushed the thought to the back of his head as Thirteen spoke to him.
"Yeah?"
"Got a text from I.C.U.; the patient seems to be responding to the anti-biotics, if only slightly. Temp is down to 102.5, O-sats are up to ninety-four, pulse and BP have come down," Thirteen reported.
"He's doing better than Wilson," House noted. Thirteen looked down at the monitors for Wilson's vitals and saw that House was right, by the slimmest of margins.
"For everything that Wilson's been through, House, he's doing damned well," Slick said.
"I'm still going to want that cigarette from you later," House said, his eyes never leaving the scene as the artificial hip was wheeled over near the operating table on top of a cart. Thirteen gave Slick a quizzical look. She casually turned her back to House and mouthed the word "cigarette?" to him. Slick shrugged his shoulders slightly. Crap, Thirteen thought; something else for Lydia to deal with…
Not that Lydia didn't already have enough on her hands. While she was on her way to the I.C.U., Tom texted her that the kids were going to have to go home soon. The Wilsons were beginning to talk about not having grandchildren of their own, and starting to cry, which was upsetting the kids. Of course it wasn't true that they didn't have any grandkids; their oldest Michael had two, he just never let his parents see them. Lydia could only imagine that this kind of talk was upsetting Annie as well. After the attack she suffered so many years ago, the doctors told Lydia that even if Annie survived, she would never be able to have kids; the way those bastards slashed and carved at her abdomen, among other parts of her, it had damaged too many reproductive organs. When Annie came out of the catatonic state and went to doctors for check-ups, they wouldn't say it was impossible for Annie to conceive, but highly unlikely. Even more unlikely was the possibility she would carry to full term.
Annie told Lydia that she had been truthful with Wilson from the beginning about the scars that she bore, inside and out. One of the things that made Annie fall in love with him, was how caring and gentle he was with her, especially at the beginning. He was always making sure that even when they were having fun, kidding around with some horseplay…or making love, he wasn't hurting her. Not that she was totally fragile in any way…it was just that it was in his nature to care. The only request he had, was not to bring up the subject to his parents; it was then that he had told her about his estrangement from his brothers and what had caused the situation.
Lydia had told Tom to take the kids down to the cafeteria, and see if they could get some cereal or perhaps a bagel they could split; Lydia felt that would be better than sugary granola bars or pound cake or cookies for a "bedtime" snack. It would also get them away from the Wilsons for a little bit. As Lydia rounded a corner, she found a young woman curled up on a couch crying quietly to herself. She quickly appraised the woman's age and appearance, and decided that this must be Mrs. Sheeler, the patient's wife.
"Excuse me?" Lydia said gently to the woman. The young woman jumped, startled at even the kind tone in Lydia's voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry; did you want to sit?"
"No, no. Are you Kevin Sheeler's wife?"
"Yes, yes, I am." Mrs. Sheeler stood up right away. "Is he alright?"
"He's doing as well as we can hope at the moment. His temperature has come down, and his vitals are doing better." Lydia smiled and extended her hand. "I'm Lydia Strohman. I work with Dr. House's team. I was the one who was with Kevin in the clinic when he had his seizure from the high temperature.
"I was told his heart stopped," Mrs. Sheeler said, her voice quivering.
"Very briefly. I saw where things were going, and called for help. They had the defibrillator in the room and on him in a matter of seconds. We're not anticipating any permanent damage from the incident. What's your first name?"
"Susan." She smiled briefly. "Kevin likes to call me Suzy-Q. There was a snack cake by that name a few years ago; it was his favorite as a kid…well, you can fill in the rest." Susan Sheeler even managed a laugh thinking about her husband's nickname for her and its source.
"Why were you out here, on the couch in the lounge area, Susan?" Lydia asked. "Didn't they get a chair for you in the room? I understand that you're expecting." Lydia looked down at her feet. "You're ankles are very swollen."
"Yes, I had to stop working because of that," Susan said looking down.
"Come with me; I'm going to make sure you get the proper set up in your husband's room." Normally relatives wouldn't be allowed in I.C.U., except for very limited hours. But just as there were going to be all sorts of people crawling in and out of Wilson's room shortly, this young couple had extraordinary circumstances.
"Carmella," Lydia said when she got to the nurses' station, "This is Susan Sheeler, Kevin Sheeler's wife. He's in room five." Carmella looked at Susan very sympathetically.
"Yes, I know who Mrs. Sheeler is," replied the nurse. "I tried to arrange for her to stay by her husband, but I was told that wasn't allowed," Carmella said in a hushed voice as she looked over her shoulder. On the other side of the nurses' station was Tracy, head nurse for the shift, on the job less than six months and liked by no one.
"Well, let me say this to all of you who are handling Mr. Sheeler's care." Lydia said in a voice loud enough that Tracy couldn't help but turn around out of curiosity. "Mrs. Sheeler is going to be staying in her husband's room, in a Gerry chair, by his bedside. She is…four months?" Lydia asked Susan, who nodded. "Pregnant and has ankles the size of an elephant. No offense," she said to Susan. "Now if anyone has a problem with these orders, they are to direct their comments to Dr. House." Out of the corner of her eye, Lydia saw the look of disapproval on Tracy's face. One of the aides who had stopped to listen to Lydia had walked away, and returned with the requested chair, giving Lydia a subtle thumbs-up as she walked by.
"Dr. Strohman, I don't know what I can do to thank you," Susan Sheeler said with tears rolling down her cheeks as she walked into her husband's room.
"Actually it's Ms. Strohman…and there is something you can do…" A short while later, the elevator doors opened on the floor by the observation area. Thirteen greeted Lydia as she left the elevator car.
"He just started asking for you a few minutes ago," Thirteen said. "Slick and I tried to play dumb, but you know how he is…"
"He saw right through you. That's OK, I hit the jackpot," Lydia said. She rushed toward the observation room, but stopped into the waiting room for a quick talk with the kids. "Ben, Elise, listen to me. You will not be able to talk to Wilson tonight. It's still going to be a bit before he's out of surgery, and then he has to go to the recovery room. The only people allowed in there, will be House, Aunt Annie, and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. I probably won't be able to get in." Lydia knew that wasn't necessarily true; House could get her in and out any time he wanted, but she had to say something to convince the kids to go home. She could just make it a flat out order to leave, but Lydia never had to do that with her kids. They knew if she was telling them to do something, it was for a very good reason. "He won't be able to talk to anyone until tomorrow or the next day even. Please, it would be a big help if there were fewer people here to look after. And I would feel so much better if you two were back at Aunt Marianne's and Uncle Tom's house." Elise yawned as Lydia had been talking.
"Mommy, I think I'm gonna have a hard time getting up for school," the little girl said.
"You both can stay home tomorrow. Maybe a little later in the day, maybe after lunch…I'll have Aunt Marianne bring you back over here so I can see you and squeeze you," Lydia said as she gave both of her kids hugs. "I'll call the school in the morning and explain what's going on. Go get your jackets and say your good-byes."
"If I could bring them to you around noon, that would be great," Marianne said. "I have three students tomorrow from one to four."
"Any timing works fine for me," Lydia said. "You're doing me a favor."
"You are so great with your kids, and it shows in their behavior," Slick said. "Most other kids would be screaming and arguing their heads off. Makes me wish I had the chance to have a kid," he said wistfully.
"You're nothing but a big, overgrown kid yourself sometimes," Lydia said putting her hand on his shoulder.
"Like House," Thirteen said coming alongside him.
"Why do you think he and I are friends?" asked Slick. The women laughed as Marianne and the kids joined them.
"Mommy, can we say good-bye to House?" Elise asked.
"He probably won't care," Ben said. Lydia cringed to hear her son talk that way. The two had developed such a good relationship; she hoped the earlier incident wouldn't set them back.
"We can poke our heads in and say good night. But remember, he's very busy watching Wilson's operation, so we'll have to make it quick." Lydia tucked the papers she was holding into the pocket of the scrubs she was wearing, and took her children's hands. She led them across the hall to the observation room; House was slumped to his right, allowing the wall to hold his body upright.
"Greg?" House straightened up and turned to the doorway. He did little to hide his displeasure at the sight that greeted him. "The kids just wanted to say good night," Lydia said.
"This has been anything but a good night," House groused.
"But, Wilson's gonna be OK." Elise said. "And Mommy's gonna be OK, even though the bad man burned her. And Aunt Annie's OK and you're OK." The child looked at House innocently. "Those all good things." House closed his eyes; he knew he must be losing it if the naïve attitude of a child could get to him.
"Yeah…sure, whatever you say." House glanced over at Ben. The boy was staring straight down at the floor, unwilling to make eye contact with House. I blew it big time, House said to himself. How do you say I'm sorry when those words aren't in your vocabulary? He looked over at Ben, and realized that the boy was taking small steps into the observation room. "What's up?" House asked.
"I…I really do want to be a doctor…just like you. I'll look at Wilson being operated on; I can take it."
"Ben, honey…" Lydia began. But House cut her off.
"You don't need to do that. I'm sure when the time comes, you'll deal with blood and guts better than anyone. Besides, if Wilson finds out I let you look, he'll kill me." House glanced down at Ben and saw that the boy was smiling; so was Lydia for that matter.
"Good night, House. Mom said that we could come back tomorrow and check on everyone," Ben said. He held his hand up for a fist pump; House returned the gesture, glad that him being an ass before had blown over with the kid.
"Night, House," Elise said as she carefully hugged him around his legs. She was always careful not to squeeze House's scar.
"Night," House replied. He turned his attention back to the action in the operating room. Everything appeared to be going smoothly; in a little while he noticed that a new unit of blood was being hung up. He knew that meant it wouldn't be long before the second unit of plasma he donated would be hooked up to Wilson; after that, it would be plasma from a stranger, obtained through Princeton General. He knew getting the extra plasma from the other hospital was the right thing to do, but it still bothered the hell out of him. He dropped his head down and closed his eyes, hoping to rest for just a few minutes. House became aware of the presence of another person in the room.
"Can I get you some fresh coffee?" Lydia asked.
"Not right now. With any kind of luck, within the next hour we can start packing that stuff up and bring it down to the waiting room outside of recovery," House said as he kept his focus on the O.R.
"That won't be necessary," Lydia said. "Eric gave Cherry Valley Deli my cell number; they just called asking when we were going to be moving to the next waiting area. I told them in about an hour, so they're on their way over to clean this up and bring fresh food to the next waiting room." House shook his head, taken back at how well Foreman arranged for them to be made comfortable.
"You figure out yet which budget this is all coming out of?" he asked.
"No one's; your team is paying for it out of their own pockets." House was more than taken back…he was stunned. "They knew there would be a crowd of people here, and that the three of us, at the very least, didn't eat dinner. They wanted to make sure we were taken care of." Lydia saw the look at House's face and knew he was having trouble processing the kind gesture. "Greg, I keep telling you…you have more people who love you than you give yourself credit for."
"They knew they'd be hungry after staring at Wilson's red meat all night," House replied trying to lessen the impact of his team's actions. "What have you got in your pocket?" House had noticed the papers Lydia had placed in there earlier. She told House about speaking to the patient's wife and getting all the info they needed to start investigating what the young man had been exposed to.
"I also got the key to the Sheeler's house. She keeps a spare of the house key and car key on a separate key ring. I'll bring it with me tomorrow when I go over to their house; I first thought I'd try the Greg House method for obtaining entry…a credit card." Somehow, the comment managed to pull a smile from House. Lydia noticed it and was very pleased.
"When you do that, make sure you take Ben with you; he'll get a cheap thrill," House quipped. There was movement behind them as workers from Cheery Valley entered the waiting room, and began the clean-up process. Thirteen explained to everyone that food and beverages would be waiting for them down by recovery.
"Is James' operation almost over?" Claudia Wilson asked.
"Not quite yet, but thing are moving at a good pace," Lydia replied.
"I think I'll get everyone to head downstairs," Thirteen said.
"Good idea," Lydia replied. "I'll stay here." House continued to watch intently the events down in the O.R. while Lydia waited silently by his side. After a bit, House saw that the insertion of the hip was finished and Taub had moved into position over the wound site.
"Dr. House, I couldn't impose my thought on Dr. Rayner, but I wanted to have Dr. Taub close Dr. Wilson's surgical area. He'll have the best chance of a minimal amount of scarring." What seemed like an eternity passed, and the operation on Wilson was over; he was ready to be moved into recovery. House and Lydia headed to the elevators, and went down to the third floor. A few quick turns down the hallway, and they joined the others by the waiting room. Everyone kept nervously pacing while Thirteen kept watch for Wilson to come down.
"They're here," she finally said. All left the waiting room and lined the hall to allow the stretcher to pass. House was un-nerved as he watched the stretcher come toward them. An orderly was at the head, pushing the gurney along; Chase, Foreman, and Taub, walked alongside the stretcher, like a military honor guard that House had seen too many times in his youth. Ellis was nowhere to be seen, and at the moment, House didn't care. Wilson was hooked to so many tubes and monitors, it was a surreal sight; even more so to the non-medically trained people. Everyone moved to the stretcher as it approached; the orderly was forced to stop.
"Oh, my God…Oh, my baby!" Claudia Wilson fell against her husband, sobbing pitifully. Her husband reached out his hand and placed it on Wilson's shoulder.
"Hang in there, James. Your mother and I love you…more than anything." Henry Wilson pulled his hand back as he started to cry. Annie had waited to step over, to allow Wilson's parents to see him first. Even though she had a chance to prepare herself, and had Lydia's arm around her shoulder, she too, broke down.
"I'm right here, babe," she said touching Wilson's hand. "I'm going to be right here with you through all of this. Just remember…how much…I love you." Sobs came flowing from Annie as Lydia held her, while her own tears rolled down her cheeks. House was on the other side of the gurney from Annie and the Wilsons, and he watched as they turned away, unable to look at Wilson any more. Everyone, his team, Lydia, Tom and Slick, tried to calm the three down. Even the orderly's attention was drawn away over to the group trying to console Annie and Wilson's parents. House took advantage of all being distracted, and briefly put his hand on Wilson's shoulder. He pulled it away as he realized that Henry Wilson was turning to him.
"James is out of danger now that the operation is over…isn't he?"
"No. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be the test. Every day he makes it beyond that, is one more point in his favor," House replied. Lydia came over to House as he nodded his head to the orderly to bring Wilson inside the recovery area.
I know I've got Lydia, House thought to himself, but damn it, Wilson, don't die…I need you, too.