19.
The quiet whirring and beeping of machinery were the only sounds to meet his ears as he slipped like a phantom into the dimly lit room of the ICU. He paused just inside the doorway as if he were waiting, waiting for a sign to enter further.
A faint groan from the other side of the room forced him to shift his focus from the outer hallway to the direction of the bed. Another low moan, like the sound of distant thunder came from the only other occupant of the room before he was silent once more.
House. There were so many emotions wrapped up in that name, with that one man.
He moved forward, taking the clipboard from the end of the bed as he did so. Stepping into the glow of the only light in the room, the one directly over the sleeping House, he shifted his gaze briefly to look at the familiar face which, even in sleep, looked anguished and full of pain.
Could that mean that the sedatives the doctors had given him were wearing off? As he flipped through House's chart, a slow smile spread across his face.
After House's years of Vicodin abuse, it stood to reason that nothing but the most powerful drugs would do anything to relieve him of his pain. His body had become practically immune to medications that didn't practically knock him out or dope him up into a miasmic haze.
Yet because the doctors here at PPTH knew of House's prescription drug abuse and because he was also under the care of the overly meddling James Wilson and Lisa Cuddy, House would be denied the stronger meds necessary to relieve his acute pain. And judging from the chart's outline of the extent of his injuries, House's current pain was monumental.
As if on cue, House groaned again, his brow furrowing in obvious distress.
So the bastard was in pain? Good. If anyone deserved to be in pain, it certainly should be Gregory House.
Lucas Douglas leaned closer to his enemy's helpless form.
How easy would it be to kill him? He could place a pillow over House's face and smother him, inject him with an overdose of some nameless drug or just push an air bubble into his IV line.
But Lucas had not waited in a nearby broom closet all this time for that. He had no intention of giving House the quick and easy way out. No. Death and its merciful pain free release was too good for House.
Lucas looked over his shoulder to check the door. Cuddy's mother could return at any moment. Fortunately for him, the old battleaxe moved slowly with her bad hip and her cane. He knew he still had a few more minutes before she returned from the bathroom down the hall.
But what to do? Lucas' eyes moved smoothly from the charts to House. Why was House under restraint?
He flipped through the charts quickly and there it was. House's leg had been completely mangled in a traffic accident. He therefore needed to remain completely immobilized to keep him from reinjuring the leg. If he sustained any further injuries, the leg might need to be amputated.
Why, it was almost too perfect.
To Lucas' mind, House had always waved his disability around like a badge of honor. What he couldn't get through his intelligence, he obtained through manipulating others to feel guilty or sorry for him with his gimp leg and his cane. House's bad leg was a symbol, a symbol that he could have anything and anyone he wanted.
And the one person who House decided he'd wanted was the one person Lucas loved. For no one had fallen harder for House's intricate manipulations than Lisa Cuddy.
Lucas felt his heart seize up in his chest as he thought of her once more, how he almost had her for his own, forever, until the bastard lying in front of him limped back into their lives. His heart began to beat at a faster pace as both his love for Lisa and his hatred for House flooded his veins, shortening his breath and numbing his brain.
For a moment he couldn't move, he couldn't think. All he could do was feel. He felt the loss of her again and the anger for the man whom he blamed for all his current misfortunes.
It was the anger that jolted him out of his temporary paralysis. Lucas moved quickly and silently to the side of the bed and removed the straps that bound House down to the mattress.
And then he remembered his knife.
He couldn't be sure if he would have enough time, but throwing caution to the wind, Lucas took out his knife and began using its sharp, serrated edge on the cast enveloping House's right leg.
The work went faster than expected thanks in part to the sharpness of his knife but also to the way the cast was set. Not particularly caring whether he inadvertently stabbed House while he worked didn't hurt to make the work go quickly either.
But sooner than expected, House's leg was laid open and bare. Its black bruises, ragged red sutures, silver metallic supportive framework and screws stood out starkly against the white sheets of the bed. Lucas stood up and used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat that had formed on his brow.
He smiled. This was a good day's work.
House moaned again. His right arm twitched. The sedatives were definitely wearing off.
Good.
Now all that remained for him to do was to set his plan in motion. House would be, once again, the means to destroy himself.
Lucas leaned over House's prone form. He moved close to his victim's right ear and spoke to him for the first time.
"I told you to stay away from my wife you arrogant son of a bitch."
"No," House whispered, his eyelids fluttering slightly as he became more wakeful.
"Yes," Lucas hissed. He noticed with a perverse pleasure that House began to writhe in fear and pain. The more he moved, the more pain was brought on by his movements and the greater he struggled to escape the ensuing torment.
House's moaning became louder.
"Let's see how Lisa feels about you when they've taken off your leg and sawed you in half."
"Cuddy!" House screamed.
And he kept on screaming.
But by the time the alarms had sounded and the nursing staff rushed in, Lucas was already heading for the freight elevator. Just as he stepped onto the platform and the elevator doors closed behind him, he heard House's voice raised in a scream of utter panic and agony.
And Lucas Douglas laughed.