Wilson was in the clinic, doing his weekly hours, when the man came in. He was tall, and thin, and looked to be in his forties. He was wearing a dark suit and walked with a confidence and a bearing that drew all eyes to him. He went up to the reception desk and talked to a nurse who pointed to Wilson.
"Doctor Wilson," the man's voice halted Wilson as he went to pick up another file folder. "I need to talk to you about your slave."
Fear gripped Wilson. It had been five days since he'd caned House and they'd heard nothing from the SAC. House's physical wounds were healing but both men had been living in a state of uncertainty. House had insisted on keeping working for diagnostics, although he'd also made sure that he was highly visible around the hospital with his mop and bucket, doing janitorial work.
House's fellows had been cool to Wilson since it happened - Cameron could barely look at him. Wilson didn't blame her; he didn't like to look at himself either. However many times he'd told himself that he'd had no choice but to beat House he couldn't escape the fact that the bloody welts on House's ass were his doing. Every time he'd applied antiseptic cream to them and seen the bruises and the swelling he'd cringed inside.
This man wasn't wearing the uniform of the SAC but who else would be enquiring about 'Wilson's slave'?
"In here," Wilson gestured to an empty exam room. They both entered the room and Wilson closed the door behind them.
"My name is Adrian Damon Harris," the man said as he passed Wilson a business card. When Wilson glanced at the card he found out that Harris was the chief executive officer of the SAC. Not a man who would be sent to deal with an errant slave.
He shook Harris's hand reluctantly. He wanted nothing to do with the organisation that was capable of such cruelty towards its helpless subjects.
"What can I do for you, Mr Harris?"
Harris fixed him with a stare from his ice cold blue eyes.
"You own a slave. That slave has recently been the subject of a report by one of our New Jersey officers. He's been practising medicine, against all slave regulations, and no doubt against all medical board regulations. The officer who investigated recommended that your ownership be overturned and the slave returned to the control of the SAC."
Wilson's blood ran cold. Just what he had feared. He still didn't know what Harris was doing here though - if they came for House it would be in uniform, with chains.
"Attached to the report was a history of who your slave used to be. I had an interest in the matter so I researched that name. Doctor Gregory House, a renowned diagnostician before he disappeared from this hospital, only to engage in criminal activity which led to his enslavement. You using the slave in this hospital made sense then."
"I'm glad you understand why he was working with some doctors here in a consultative position." Wilson said. Maybe there was some hope after all. Anyone who'd researched House would know it was ludicrous to use him to mop floors when people's lives were in the balance.
Harris shook his head. "No, what he - and you- were doing was wrong. The whole slavery system will perish if we allow slaves to take liberties because of some skill they had before they were enslaved. You should never have been allowed to buy him - we will be tightening our restrictions on that."
"He was saving lives!" Wilson protested.
"That is not our concern. Our concern is to make sure that slaves are properly controlled, and punished for their crimes." He paused, and looked away slightly for the first time since their conversation began. "Doctor Wilson, I agree with my officer that your slave should be taken back into SAC custody but I am willing 'to turn a blind eye' as it were, this one time provided that you allow me to use your slave."
His first thought was that Harris wanted to abuse House as Tritter, and Ayersman had. And Wilson would allow that over his cold dead body.
"My daughter is sick. Very sick. We've taken her to three different specialists and nobody has been able to find the cause. From everything I've read your slave used to the best person to go to for a diagnosis. What I need to know is, is that still true? My daughter has no time to waste."
Wilson felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe Harris would forget the report if House could help with his daughter.
"Yes, if there is anyone in America who can diagnose your daughter it would be him. You people made him a slave, but you haven't destroyed his brain." Wilson couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, even as he told himself he had to be pleasant to this man.
"Then get him in here," Harris ordered.
Wilson was about to reply when there were a loud crash from outside the exam room door, and the sounds of people shouting and running.
Flinging open the door he saw a pair of security guards holding someone to the ground, their arms forced up behind their back, their face smashed into the ground. As he watched one of them kicked the fallen body in the ribs. The orange coveralls were all that were visible of the slave but Wilson immediately knew who it was.
He ran over there and saw that the guard was busy locking a pair of handcuffs around House's wrists.
"What is this? What has he done?" Wilson asked, trying to keep his voice calm and cold. It was still important to keep up appearances, especially with Harris here.
"Fucking slave put his hands on a kid in the clinic waiting area. Kid had just been sick and the slave was supposed to be cleaning it up. Instead he started pawing the kid." He went to kick House again but Wilson stopped him with a hand.
"No. If anyone punishes the slave it will be me. Get him to his knees."
The guards hauled House bodily into a kneeling position and Wilson could see that his face was bruised; a trickle of blood ran down from his mouth.
"What happened, House?" Wilson asked sternly.
"The boy was running a temperature; I could see that he had a rash under his shirt. I asked him to lift his shirt so I could have a better look. His vomit had blood in it."
Wilson looked up and called out to the nurse on duty. "The boy who was sick, put him in exam room two and page Doctor Foreman to examine him."
"Take the handcuffs off. I'll deal with this," Wilson said to the guards. The guard looked reluctant but released them roughly. Wilson could see red marks around House's wrists from where they had been.
"Get up and go to my office," Wilson said to House. "Wait for me there."
"Yes, sir," House said meekly, aware of the eyes on them. He looked around for his cane, found it and then limped slowly off, clearly sore from the treatment of the guards.
"I presume that is the slave I came to see?" Harris asked when the crowd had dispersed. "I can see why my officer was concerned."
"But I guess you still want him to see your daughter?" Wilson asked mildly.
Harris's face was screwed up in disapproval but he nodded. "Yes. If that slave is the best then that's who I want."
Wilson held onto his temper at Harris calling House 'that slave' and gestured for Harris to follow him to his office.
House was half sitting, half lying on Wilson's couch when the door opened.
"Get off the furniture, slave!" Harris snapped as soon as he saw him. "Kneel for your master."
"That won't be necessary," Wilson said, waving his arm at House. "He has a bad leg, if he kneels for long he'll be in too much pain to do what you want. Stand by the desk, House."
House was already up, responding instinctively to the previous snapped command and he looked warily at Harris. Wilson realised that he had no idea yet who the man was. He shot a look at House, pleading at him to keep his mouth shut, for now at least. House shuffled around to the side of Wilson's desk and stood there, leaning heavily on his cane.
"Mr Harris is the CEO of the SAC," Wilson explained. "He wants to ask if you will take his daughter's case."
Harris looked shocked at the way Wilson phrased it but Wilson ignored him. He and House had the power here - Harris's daughter was surely more important to him than one slave who might be being treated 'improperly'.
"Mr Harris has agreed to ignore the report that was filed on you with the SAC if you take on his daughter."
House looked from Wilson to Harris.
"I want more than that."
Harris's face darkened. "This isn't a bargaining table, slave. You have no say in this. Your master has agreed to my terms. That's the end of it. What you want or don't want is irrelevant - and impertinent."
"You can order me to diagnose your daughter but you can't make me succeed." Which meant he would plod through the case, considering only the obvious and earnestly following the same path all the previous doctors had trodden. House was right - Harris couldn't buy that spark of genius House had.
"Well how about this, slave? If you fail, if my daughter... I will ensure that every day of your life as a slave is pure misery. I will have you taken from here, and put back into training at SAC headquarters - because clearly you are delinquent. I will have you driven beyond your endurance. And I will do everything in my power to have your sentence extended for as long as I can. I will make sure that you die as a slave. That's what I will do. So I suggest that you try very, very hard to succeed."
Wilson held his breath for House's reply. Threatening House to make him do something had been a spectacularly unsuccessful strategy in House's previous life. The threat Harris had just made was very real however, he had the power, and ability, to carry it out. As a lone slave fighting against the system House would be totally vulnerable.
Wilson watched House closely, he looked calm but the hand on his cane was trembling and his body was strung with tension. He was going against all the slave conditioning that he'd received. Standing up to Harris was the mark of a very brave man.
"Then you can do all that. I will not diagnose your daughter unless you arrange for me to be freed immediately if I am successful. If the kid dies you can do whatever you like with me."
Harris looked like he was about to explode at the slave's boldness.
"That's ridiculous. I do not have the authority to have your sentence commuted. You were sentenced by the court to a set term."
"Sure you do. Your SAC is as corrupt as any quasi-government authority. It doesn't happen often but slaves can be freed under a Special Circumstances clause. Do you want me to cite some previous cases?"
Harris just kept staring angrily at House and Wilson decided it was time to intervene.
"Can you organise that if he succeeds?"
"It's possible," Harris snapped.
"Then what do you care if one slave ends his term early? House is crippled, in pain, and aging - nobody is going to miss his services as a slave. What does it matter against your daughter's life?"
"You wouldn't object to losing his services?" Harris narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. Wilson figured that there was little point playing the harsh slave master anymore. If this plan succeeded either House would go free, or he'd be taken from Wilson anyway.
"No, I only brought him to bring him back here. He can do far more good in a hospital than scrubbing my apartment floor. "
Harris nodded. "So my officer was right about you two." He paced a couple of steps, considering and then went to stand toe to toe with House. "You have a deal, slave. You diagnose my daughter and she survives you go free. She dies, you are taken from Doctor Wilson and I make your life a living hell."
"The deal was to diagnose her, not to cure her. She might have one of them icky terminal illnesses."
"Then you'd better make sure she doesn't."
"House..." Wilson didn't like the sounds of this. He had confidence that House could diagnose the girl - but he couldn't guarantee a cure. House looked at him. He was still tense but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"All in, Wilson," he said, "for both of us." He held Wilson's gaze until Wilson nodded, then he looked back at Harris.
"I'll need it in writing. Or better yet, HD video," House said. "With witnesses."
"You don't trust me, slave?"
"House, my name is House. Not 'slave'." House drew himself up straighter and looked Harris in the eye. "And no, I don't."
Harris eyed him tensely but then nodded.
Wilson stood up. "Come on, let's go and talk to Cuddy and get your daughter admitted."
For the first time since he brought House home he could see some hope for a better future for them.
If he had to bet on someone to succeed in this it would be House.