| |
Until Death Us Do Unite
by Housepiglet
Denial
It seemed odd that to all intents and purposes Wilson looked just the same. The crisp white lab coat; the dress pants and shirt; the expensive shoes and silk tie; the same mop of floppy hair, with the matching soft brown eyes. From a distance House wouldn't have known that anything had changed, and a casual observer might have passed the exam room without ever noticing anything wrong. House wasn't a casual observer, though, and the thin trickle of blood on Wilson's chin as he scooped his hand from his patient's brain towards his mouth was what gave him away.
Anger
House glared furiously at Cuddy. "What the hell were you doing letting unaccompanied zombies into the clinic in the first place?" he demanded, slamming his cane on her desk for extra emphasis.
Cuddy glared back. "Well I'm sorry, House, but you know as well as I do that we can't turn zombies away. The AMA wouldn't allow it. We have quotas to meet. Wilson should have waited for his bodyguard." She turned to the officer. "Can't we do anything? Dr Wilson is a Head of Department."
The officer looked back at Cuddy apologetically. "I'm sorry, ma-am, but it's the law."
Bargaining
"But you can't just kill Wilson!" yelled House, aghast, turning from the officer to Cuddy and then back again. "He's been here 15 years. He's got tenure! He's on the Board, for Christ's sake!"
The officer turned towards House. "Once they've developed a taste for human flesh there's no going back. Decapitation really is the only answer." He shifted slightly in his seat. "Try not to worry, sir. It's very quick. I promise he won't feel a thing." He narrowed his eyes. "Now Dr Cuddy tells me you're his best friend. We're going to need your help in catching him."
Depression
"There has to be something!" said House. "I can..." He stopped suddenly, as the prospect of life without Wilson began to sink in. He tried to imagine it, but he found he couldn't. Or rather he could, but it wasn't a reality he wanted to face. "I'll get a bigger apartment. Have a cage fitted... Hire a security guard!" No Wilson. House heard blood begin to race through his ears. Ever again.
The officer spoke again. "I'm sorry, sir, but I won't be able to let him leave."
House slumped in his chair. "What do you want me to do?"
Acceptance
The clinic had been cleared, and the Zombie Containment Team was in place. Exam Room 2 was surrounded.
"Remember," said the officer. "He's lethal. Stand in the doorway until he moves. Then back away slowly and draw him out. When he leaves we'll deal with him."
House stared at the officer, and then at the room. Wilson hovered, vacant and immobile. "Okay," he said, squeezing the head of his cane.
He limped slowly to the door. In the corner Wilson turned, and began to lurch towards him. House opened the door, walked in, and then closed the door behind him.
The End
Please post a comment on this story.
Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
|