2007
One morning in late May, the team was gathered in the conference room. House stood at the whiteboard while the others sat at the table looking over the file of their latest patient. The door swung open and an older man with dark hair and dark eyes walked in. He wore a grey suit, light blue shirt and polished black shoes. Reilly looked closely at him. He looked familiar but she couldn't remember where she saw him before. He walked up to House.
"Which one of you is Doctor House?" he asked.
"Skinny brunette," House responded jerking his thumb in Cameron's direction.
"No," the man responded. "That's Doctor Cameron."
House tilted his head and shrugged. "I'm a skinny brunette."
The stranger pulled out a gun and shot House in the stomach. Kutner started to rush forward followed by Reilly. The shooter swung the gun toward them.
"Don't touch him," he said calmly before looking down at House who lay on the floor bleeding. "Shocking, isn't it? Who'd want to shoot you?" he asked House before shooting him again in the neck.
When the shooter stepped back, Kutner leapt and tackled him. Volakis jumped forward and wrestled the gun from him while Kutner rolled him on his back and began to punch him in the face. Volakis pushed Kutner back and slammed the butt of the gun down on the man's face. Blood spurted everywhere and the shooter lay still.
"Call a code and get security up here!" Cameron screamed as she and Reilly knelt beside House. Cameron applied pressure to wound in his stomach and Reilly did the same for the gunshot wound in his neck.
He looked up into her eyes. Her tears landed on his face.
"You are not allowed to die," she whispered. His eyes drifted closed and she looked toward the hallway. Kutner and Volakis ran back in with a gurney with packages of bandages piled on it.
"I need a BP cuff," Reilly told them.
Kutner dashed out again. "And get an ambu bag!" she shouted after him.
"Got it!" he yelled.
Volakis knelt beside them and began tearing open the packets of bandages. The three of them began to pack the wounds. Reilly dug her fist into his chest. He didn't respond and she swallowed back a sob.
"No response to pain. Amber, get over here and check his pupil response," she ordered as Kutner came running in carrying the things she wanted. Wilson was right behind him. The shooter began to move and moan.
"Call the police, James!" Reilly shouted. "Where are the fucking security guards?"
"Pupils are sluggish but reactive to light," Volakis told her. She lifted his left wrist and looked at her watch. "Pulse is one twenty."
"Get his BP," Cameron told Reilly. She looked over her shoulder at Kutner. "Kutner, get in here with the ambu bag. Volakis, call down to the ER and let them know we're on our way down."
Wilson knelt down beside Reilly. Once she finished taking House's BP, he grasped her arm.
"What the hell happened?" he asked.
"BP is sixty palp," she said and then turned to look at Wilson. "That man...over there….he came in….shot Greg."
"Let's get him up on the gurney," Cameron said.
Carefully they all lifted House and laid him on the gurney. Volakis took hold of his wrist then put her fingers to the pulse point at his neck.
"No pulse!" she cried out.
"Move!" Reilly commanded. They all stepped back as she climbed up on the gurney and straddled House. She tore his shirt open and began chest compressions. "GO!"
When Cameron put her hand over the wound in his neck, Volakis put her hands over the wound in his stomach, Wilson pumped air into his lungs with the ambu bag and Kutner started to push the gurney. Reilly continued compressions only stopping to check for a pulse.
"HURRY!" she screamed as tears flooded her eyes.
Kutner got them in the elevator and pushed the button for the emergency room.
For Reilly, it seemed to take forever for them to get down to the ER. She continued to perform CPR as Kutner rolled them into the trauma bay of the ER. She checked his pulse again and sagged in relief when she felt it beneath her finger. His eyes fluttered open.
"Greg?" she asked leaning over him. "Can you hear me?"
"Tell Cuddy I want ketamine," he whispered and then lost consciousness again.
Reilly jumped off the gurney and let the ER doctors and nurses work on him. She started to shake and Wilson put his arm around her.
"I need to call and get an OR," she gasped.
"Cameron's doing that and she's letting them know about the ketamine," he told her. "Let's go sit down."
"No," she sobbed. "I'm not leaving him."
Wilson stayed with her while they prepped House for surgery. He stayed with her in the observation room above the operating room as a surgical team removed the bullets. He stayed with her at House's bedside in the intensive care unit. Finally, she fell asleep and he carried her to the doctor's call room and put her down on one of the beds. He removed her shoes and covered her with a blanket. Then he went back and sat at House's bedside. Two hours later Reilly shuffled into the room and sank down in the chair next to Wilson. Her hair hung around her face in tangled curls, her white shirt was splattered with House's blood, her floral skirt was wrinkled and she carried her white ballet flats in her hand.
"Any change?" she asked as she sat down next to him and dropped her shoes on the floor. She pulled her legs up against her chest and draped her skirt over them. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.
"No."
"Do you know what happened to the man who shot him?"
"Cops came and took him away. Apparently his wife was a patient of House's and she died," Wilson told her.
"That's why he looked familiar," Reilly sighed. "If I remember correctly, his wife had a brain aneurysm that we discovered too late. It burst the second day she was here. The husband was upset but that almost a year ago."
"House tends to rub people the wrong way," Wilson sighed.
"But to wait so long and then do something so horrible," she sighed. "I hope Doctor Cuddy is going to overhaul the security in this place."
Wilson shrugged.
"Where are the others?" she asked.
"Cameron went to get some coffee and I sent Kutner and Amber home," he told her.
"Amber likes you," Reilly told him.
Wilson smiled. "I like her."
"You better be talking about Cutthroat Bitch," House rasped. "Cameron and Reilly are off limits to you."
Reilly jumped up and stood by his bed. She took his hand. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"My gut hurts and my neck is killing me but my leg doesn't hurt," he told her with a small smile.
"The ketamine," she breathed. "It worked, didn't it?"
"What about the ketamine?" Wilson asked as he moved to stand beside her.
"It's been used in Germany on patients suffering chronic pain," Reilly told him. "Greg showed me the article. The brain basically reboots itself. But, there's a fifty percent chance the pain can return."
"Water," House rasped.
Wilson poured some in a cup, stuck a straw in it and handed it to Reilly. Then he helped House sit up while she held the straw to House's mouth. He took a few sips and closed his eyes.
"And there's a fifty percent chance it won't," he whispered.
Cameron came in with two paper cups. House opened his eyes and looked at her.
"We broke up," he said. "You should be at home."
"Just because we're no longer dating doesn't mean I stopped caring about you," she told him. She put the cups of coffee on the table beside his bed and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Like I got shot twice," he joked weakly. "Otherwise not too bad. So, go home. I'll still be here tomorrow."
She smiled and stroked his hair. Standing up, she looked at Reilly and Wilson.
"Call me if you need me," she told them.
Both nodded at her and she kissed House again before walking out.
"Go home, Wilson," House told him.
"You sure?" he asked.
House nodded and closed his eyes. Once Wilson was gone, he opened them again and looked at Reilly. "Can you stay with me?"
"I already called the girls. They're going to spend the night with friends."
"Good," he sighed and drifted off to sleep.
Reilly went down to the locker room, showered and changed into scrubs and the running shoes she kept in her locker. Then she went back up to the ICU and sat down beside House's bed.
The next morning House awoke to find Reilly gone. He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to look out the door and large glass windows of his room. She stood in the hallway talking to two women in dark pantsuits. One had dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and the other had dirty blonde hair twisted in a knot on the back of her head. The brunette wrote in a notebook as Reilly gestured emphatically. He carefully eased back until he was lying down and buzzed for a nurse. A grimace creased his face when Nurse Bitch walked in. Her name was Brenda but House called her Nurse Bitch because she butted heads with him constantly and had the nerve to snap back at him when he snapped at her.
"What?" she asked folding her arms. She raised one eyebrow and looked at him dispassionately.
"Who's out there with Doctor McGrath?" he asked.
"Police. They're talking to your flying monkeys about your shooting," she said.
His lip curled. "The Wicked Witch was a woman. If you're going to insult me, get your genders right. Besides, I thought you liked Doctor McGrath."
Brenda just stared at him.
"When do I get breakfast?" he asked.
"Tomorrow morning."
"What kind of fucked up diet have I been put on? I'm recovering from surgery not a heart attack!"
"The kind where you get dinner in two hours," she informed him with saccharine sweetness. "You've been out of the past two days."
House raised his hand and rubbed his fingers along his beard. "Has Reilly been here the whole time?" he asked.
"Yep, though I'll never understand why," she replied. "Doctor Cameron and Doctor Wilson have also been in here most of the time. Your other two minions come and go." She turned and started to walk away. "Oh, and you've been sleeping not sedated." She marched up the steps to the nurses' observation room.
The two detectives in the hallway nodded at Reilly and House watched as she entered the room. She smiled when she saw he was awake.
"Well, welcome back Rip Van Winkle," she said. She sat down in one of the chairs beside his bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Hungry," he told her. He jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway. "What did The Bobbsey Twins want?"
"Information about your shooting. His name is Jack Moriarty," she began.
"Moriarty?" House asked incredulously. "You made that up."
She shook her head and held her right hand up. "Hand to God. That's his real name. His wife was a patient of ours about a year ago. She's the one who died from the burst brain aneurysm. He's trying to charge both Larry and Amber for assault. Between the two of them they broke his nose, both cheekbones, his jaw and and knocked out about eight teeth."
"You must be exhausted," he commented.
She shrugged. "I'm fine," she told him looking down at her hands.
"Liar," he accused mildly. "You always use the correct medical terminology. Since you're not, that tells me you haven't slept."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously you're feeling better."
"Actually, I am. Morphine is a beautiful thing."
"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I could get you something from a vending machine or the cafeteria."
"I hallucinated."
She went still. The words seemed to hang in the air between them.
"Did you hear what I said?" he asked.
"When did you hallucinate?"
"Right after that bastard Moriarty shot me but before I came to in the emergency room. I still can't believe that's the fucker's name."
"Well it is. It was a good Irish name until Doyle used it in his books," she told him. Her face grew serious. "What did you hallucinate?" she asked again.
"About our last patient, Big Tongue Guy. About Moriarity." His voice grew soft. "About Cuddy using ketamine instead of anesthesia for my surgery. Seducing Cameron with the surgical robot. About all the bad choices I've made."
Reilly leaned forward and put her hand on his chest. She looked into his eyes. "That robot thing sounds so damn hot," she said with a serious look on her face and a glint in her eyes. "Did you use the blade to cut the buttons off her shirt?"
He started to laugh and then clutched his side. "Ow. Don't make me laugh. It hurts." He put his hand over hers. "I haven't been sleeping for the past two days, have I?" he asked her.
She shrugged. "No," she sighed. "I mixed together a little cocktail and injected it into your IV so you wouldn't have to go through opioid withdrawal. Are you mad at me?"
He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Thank you."
"Um, James and Allison and I were talking," she told him.
"Always a very dangerous thing," he teased.
"James is going to move back in with you," she told him. "Oh, and you're a manipulative jerk, by the way. When he's working, either Allison or I will come stay with you. Allison volunteered to take the night shifts. You're going to need about eight weeks of rehab but I'm sure you'll be cleared to resume your no strings attached sexual thing with her sooner."
He shook his head and smiled. "You know me entirely too well. I don't think I like it very much."
She pulled her hand free and pointed to the door with an innocent look on her face. "I can leave. I've been offered positions at about four other hospitals."
"You're not going anywhere," he told her with a laugh. "Why don't you go get me a candy bar?"
She stood, dropped a kiss on his forehead and left. He tilted his head slightly to the right as he watched her leave.