Frantic

Lisa Cuddy rant into the PPTH lobby toting a fussy Rachel on her hip. House always seemed to inconvenience her when the nanny was off. So why should this time be any different? She bypassed Reception and her office moving straight for the elevators.

Wilson's call sounded more like a prank than anything else. She could hardly understanding what he was saying. The only intelligible words were 'House needs us'. Wilson's overly excited, agitated state was the only reason she agreed to come back to work. Fear that James Wilson was having a psychotic break was more nerve wracking than when it happened to House. Everyone expected something like that from him. But Wilson…he was solid as a rock.

Lisa was prepared to go into Wilson's office when she noticed House's conference room light was on. Curiosity got the better of her.

"What's going on?" She burst through the door with Rachel still fussing on her hip.

Wilson sat at the table - a disheveled mess. His eyes were glassy, his hands shaking as he tried to bring a mug of tea to his lips. Dr. Hadley was standing behind him, her hand on his shoulder. Wilson said nothing, just stared at a blank spot a few feet away on the table.

Remy gave Cuddy a little head not to meet her out of ear shot. Lisa put Rachel down next to Wilson and met the doctor at the coffee pot.

"He's a wreck."

"What happened? I couldn't understand anything he said over the phone."

"I don't know. I stayed late to finish up some paperwork. A friend in ER paged me to tell me he had come in looking for House."

"In the ER?"

Remy shrugged. "He was babbling."

Cuddy turned back to look at Wilson. Rachel was cuddled in his arms. He was rocking her. Lisa eased over to the table and took a seat.

After a couple of minutes he blinked a few times and realized she was there. "Something terrible has happened to House."

Lisa wasn't sure how to take it. Perhaps James was delusional. "What do you think happened?" She moved closer, putting her hand on his elbow.

"The phone was at the curb. His knapsack and cane under a car."

If it was a delusion, she could handle it. But if it was something Wilson had stumbled upon…

"His neighbor said an SUV hit him."

Remy dropped her mug and it shattered.

God, please let this be a delusion. Cuddy breathed more quickly.

"What happens next," she asked softly.

"The driver puts him in the vehicle, then leaves." Wilson dropped his arms as if he went numb.

Cuddy reached out just in time to keep Rachel from falling.

"Why don't you take Wilson to his office so he can lay down for a while. I'm going to make some calls."

When Remy returned, Cuddy was on the phone yelling.

"…What do you mean I have to wait forty-eight hours! If I can get you the name and address of the witness, will you look into it then? And what am I supposed to do, call every hospital and clinic within a ten mile radius? What do you mean twenty-five! Of course I don't have a license plate number. Are you not listening? I am calm! Fine. Until then we'll look for him ourselves."

Cuddy slammed the phone down, scaring her daughter. Rachel burst into tears frazzling what was left of her mother's nerves.

"I have an idea," Remy interrupted. "If House," she didn't want to confirm Wilson's fears but had to say it, "If he's in a hospital, or jail…or whatever, maybe, just maybe he had his pill bottle with him. They could feasibly have called his psychiatrist."

"I knew there was a reason I told him to hire you. Will you watch Rachel for me while I go to my office?"