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  Violated 
 by hilsonlover  

 Hot water was pattering on his shoulders, warming him up gradually. His
head was bowed as he watched the water fall down from the long strands of
his hair, pooling around his feet before vanishing into the drain.

He was exhausted, felt dizzy and wobbly on his legs. He tilted his head so
the water could splash directly onto his face, hoping it would wash away
the exhaustion. After a few minutes he sighed, grabbed for the soap and
started to wash himself. The hot shower was lifting his spirits and when
his thoughts wandered to House he began to smile. Today was House's turn
to cook which meant take-out most of the time. House also had to take care
of the dessert and he was rather ... innovative.

Wilson shut the tap and grabbed for the towel. Suddenly he felt chilled to
the bones, someone must have opened the door and Wilson looked up
expectantly. There was no one to be found and nothing to be heard. Wilson
frowned, then shrugged and chided himself for acting like a scaredy-cat.
He rubbed himself down, stepped out of the shower stall and walked over to
his neatly stacked clothes, with the towel tied securely around his waist.
He never felt very comfortable in public showers and tried to shower in
the hospital only when he felt an absolute desire for it. After doing his
normal rounds, a biopsy and a surgery he really had longed for a hot
shower today. The desire to scrub everything off him before going home was
too strong to be ignored.

As he untied the towel, a cool breeze touched his warm skin and he looked
around again. He was frozen to the spot, holding his breath but still
nothing out of the ordinary was to be seen. He shook his head, feeling
embarrassed but also wary and dressed quickly. The feeling of something
being off stayed with him as he cautiously lurked out of the
bathroom-door. A big grin formed on his face as he discovered House
lounging on a visitor-chair, twiddling his cane. He walked over to him,
grinning even more at seeing that House had brought his briefcase and
coat. Warmth flooded through him and softly he said, "Eager to get home,
huh?"

House scowled in response and thrust the briefcase in Wilson's hands. "I
want to be home in time for the Monster-Truck-show. If you have to go to
your office again you'll meet at least three people who need your help and
we would never get home in time," House shrugged, concealing his true
reason rather badly.

"I see," Wilson answered with obvious amusement in his voice. They
bantered on their way to the elevator, their shoulders brushing
occasionally. They were completely unaware of icy green eyes staring at
their backs.

XXXXX

Three days later

Wilson stomped into the bathroom, hastily grabbing some fresh clothes out
of his locker. He was almost retching and heavily fighting against the
urge to puke his guts out. It wasn't the fault of the poor girl who puked
all over him but that didn't help him to feel better now. Carelessly he
undressed and threw his clothes on the floor in a heap.

He stepped into the first shower stall and turned the tap on hot. Quickly
he lathered his body with soap, washing the smell of vomit off him.
Washing away the smell of vomit he went through his schedule for the rest
of the day. He sighed in defeat - a pile of paperwork needed to be
tackled. At least the folders weren't going to puke all over him.

He rinsed the soap off, startling when a cold breeze twirled around him,
sending goose-bumps all over his body. He swung the towel around him while
taking a look over the door of the shower stall. He was irritated by the
draft, expecting to see who caused it. Shaking his head he stepped out of
the shower, toweled himself dry and grabbed his fresh clothes. He glanced
around repeatedly, not able to overcome the feeling of being observed. He
finished dressing and took in a deep breath when he was finally ready. As
he bent down to gather his soiled clothes another wave of cold air swirled
around him. He jumped when a hand was laid on his shoulder. Spinning
around he looked up with an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak. He closed
his eyes shortly before squeezing out, "God, Matt! You scared me! I didn't
hear you come in."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Your secretary said you were taking a shower and I need
your signature for these releases," Matt answered with an apologetic
smile.

Wilson took the folders and scribbled down his signature. After that he
bent down to stuff his clothes into a bag. He was startled again when Matt
asked, "Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

Wilson felt like an idiot for scuttling away a few feet from Matt with a
wary expression on his face. He knew this man for over a year now but
never felt intimidated by him before. He was interrupted in his awkward
stammered response by House.

"Having a party here? And I'm not invited?" he quipped although his whole
body radiated tension. Wilson knew exactly how possessive House could get
- which wasn't always a good thing. Today he was relieved by it and almost
bounced over to him.

"If you consider gathering puked on clothing as a party you're very
welcome to join."

"Uh, better not."

"Thought so."

Wilson finally had the clothes packed into a bag. Matt nodded at him
before leaving; throwing a glance to him which Wilson failed to interpret.

He was taken by surprise when he turned to House and was drawn in close by
the nape of his neck, receiving a forceful kiss. House muttered, "That guy
has a thing for you. You better be careful around him."

Wilson rolled his eyes while doing his patent hands-on-hips pose, "Not
everyone wants to get into my pants."

"Keep your pants closed tightly when I'm not around."

"Yes, sir!"

XXXXX

A week later

Wilson was excited, bordering on feeling giddy. Consciously he was aware
of himself acting like a teenager, a teenager who was wooed by his very
attentive boyfriend. However impossible it might sound House had gotten
tickets for a play in New York that Wilson wanted to see really badly and
had nagged him about it endlessly.

This morning House had been out of bed before Wilson. Considering that it
was a work day, House was up incredibly early. Wilson padded into the
kitchen in socks cladded feet, following the smell of freshly brewed
coffee and the sizzling sounds of eggs and bacon in the pan. Wilson
blinked in surprise and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Is it my birthday today?" he asked.

House grinned, then pulled Wilson into a tight embrace, "Would I remember
your birthday?"

"Uh, you're right. That sounds ridiculous. What do you say, how did I earn
this reward?" Wilson kept asking while nuzzling his cheek against House's
stubbly jaw.

"Keeping up with me all the time cried for a reward. And you talking about
this play got on my nerves so I thought there's no better way to shut you
up than to get tickets for it," House answered.

Wilson loosened the embrace and stared at House in a mixture of joy and
disbelief, "You ... got ... tickets? Seriously? And ... you ... are going
there with me?"

House rolled his eyes, "Take it as an early second anniversary present."

"Our second anniversary is in two months and you almost slapped me when I
brought this subject up last year!"

House averted his eyes and shuffled nervously with his feet, "Even I can't
push a near-death-experience aside without being affected by it."

House looked straight into Wilson's eyes, troubled emotions clearly
visible in his look. Wilson swallowed; he didn't like to think about the
car accident from six months before. He still had nightmares occasionally
of him being trapped in the car listening to the metal moaning and
groaning. He got lucky and survived with a broken wrist, broken legs and
abdominal bleeding due to a ruptured spleen. It had taken him ten weeks to
recover from the injuries, followed by a lot of more weeks with physical
therapy and only four weeks ago he had started to work again.

House had mellowed visibly after the accident and even allowed Wilson to
cuddle frequently. Wilson took full advantage of this situation and draped
himself all over House whenever possible.

Wilson traced a line along House's jaw, merely brushing with his
fingertips, then croaked, "Thank you."

House grinned broadly, "We're leaving work early today and driving to the
hotel. The performance is tomorrow evening so we have plenty of time to
take advantage of the comforts of the hotel. You know, like taking a bath
together in the big Jacuzzi."

House waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, extricating a chuckle
out of Wilson.

"I'm looking forward to it," Wilson smiled, then hugged House quickly and
blurted, "I love you too!"

House simply kissed him before turning around to stir the eggs.

XXXXX

Now, their work day was over but Wilson had insisted on taking a shower
before their drive. He felt sweaty after a stressful surgery and wanted to
change into more casual clothes anyway. House had grumbled and ranted that
Wilson could shower in the hotel but Wilson argued he would like to get to
know the bed much more. House had ushered him to the bathroom and told him
to be quick while he waited in his office.

Wilson was humming "What a wonderful world" as he lathered himself with
the soap and washed his hair with a peach-scented shampoo. He grinned in
anticipation of House mocking him for using such a girly shampoo while
rubbing his nose into Wilson's hair and making love to him.

Wilson blushed at the use of the term "love making"; hopefully he wouldn't
say this aloud. He glared at his penis which reacted quite
enthusiastically to his inner image. He was so going to need to turn the
tap on very cold at the end of his shower!

Suddenly a cold breeze twirled into the shower stall and Wilson shivered.
"House? Is that you?" he called out. He got no answer and shook his head.
Really, this locker room was creepy!

He rinsed his hair out but spun around with his heart pounding in his
chest when a wave of cold air hit his back. He couldn't even cry out for
help because a large hand was pressed over his mouth. He was shoved
against the cold shower wall, trembling at the coldness seeping into his
body from the cold tiles and at seeing the cruelty in his captor's eyes.

"Don't even think about crying out for help or fighting me. If you
cooperate you might get away with minor injuries," Matt told him while
pressing his naked body against Wilson's.

Wilson blinked in confusion; this was too surreal to be true. He must be
caught in a very weird nightmare. Wilson came to his senses when Matt
guided his erection between his buttocks. His body stiffened, every muscle
was taut and he forgot all about Matt's warning. He rammed his elbow
sharply into Matt's ribs, spun around, ready to sprint out of the shower.
He wasn't able go even one step before Matt's hand connected with his
cheeks, swiveling his head around. Losing his balance he stumbled against
the wall where Matt trapped him with his body immediately.

Wilson opened his mouth to cry out for help but only a pained gasp escaped
as Matt slapped him hard for the second time. Wilson's ears were ringing;
tears were welling up in his eyes as Matt's hand sealed his mouth shut
again. He looked at Matt saucer-eyed, heavy trembles shaking his body,
putting his terror on display. Matt grinned at him while he held Wilson's
wrists in a tight lock above his head.

"You like it rough? That's okay with me," he said before licking a trace
along Wilson's jaw.

Wilson couldn't suppress a shiver of disgust rushing through his body. He
started to retch when the feeling of disgust exploded as Matt's erection
came in contact with his own flaccid penis. The retching earned him two
more slaps, making him feel dizzy and somehow detached from the whole
situation. He was spun around again and this time Matt didn't waste a
second. He shoved his erection directly between Wilson's buttocks and
nudged at his entrance.

Wilson struggled in wild panic and cried out for help again. It got him
more blows - this time with a fist. After what felt like a lifetime for
Wilson, he found himself hunched together in a fetal position on the floor
of the shower stall. The now cold water was raining down on him and he
heard himself sobbing and begging Matt to stop. His answer was to be
pulled up by his hair; his arms tightly locked in front of him by one of
Matt's arms.

"No way I'm gonna stop. I'll get a good fuck and you're annoying boyfriend
will think that you cheated on him," Matt told him, cackling at the last
part of his sentence. "He would never believe you if you told him that you
had been raped."

At this Wilson couldn't stop the tears from flowing freely. He was
supposed to be having a great weekend with House, not trapped in a violent
nightmare. When he felt Matt positioning himself again at his entrance, he
choked, "Why are you doing this? I will report this to the police!"

Matt stopped, then growled, "Why am I doing this? Because I like you and
want to know what it feels like to take you."

Wilson whimpered and squirmed in Matt's arms, all he could think of was
that he wanted to go to House, crawl on his lap and bawl his eyes out.

Matt went on with his explanation without mercy, "You won't report it.
You'll be too humiliated and mortified. You wouldn't want anyone to know
that you couldn't defend yourself. Maybe they wouldn't believe you
anyway."

"I would believe him," a low voice informed Matt.

Matt's and Wilson's heads snapped up, Matt's expression turning into one
of hatred whereas Wilson's changed into one of hope. Hope was replaced
with renew panic as Matt nudged Wilson's legs apart with a knee.

"There's nothing you can do. Except enjoying the show," Matt spit out.
Madness was pouring out of every pore, the green eyes glittering with a
crazy fire.

"No, I can't - but they can," House replied coolly while beckoning the
security guards over. Matt let go of Wilson instantly and put up a heavy
fight, desperately trying to escape. He was ranting obscenities when the
guards overpowered him. Meanwhile Wilson had stumbled over to House who
quickly wrapped him in a towel and guided him to a chair.

Police showed up quickly and Wilson had to give his statement. He was
lucky that the people from the forensic unit allowed the examination to be
made at the hospital. He was shivering while they took photos and swabs,
closing his eyes in shameful defeat. House had wanted to stay with him and
ranted angrily when the investigators told him to wait outside. Wilson was
glad for House's absence, he didn't think he could handle that kind of
humiliation.

Red-faced and with a quivering lower lip he staggered out of the exam room
after the investigators had finished their work. When Wilson saw House
waiting for him he knew he would break down here and now, bawling his eyes
out here in the clinic where everyone could see him. His face heated up
even more as he put up a false smile, stammering, "I ... I just get my ...
my things. So ... so we can drive to ... to the hotel."

He almost ran from the clinic to the stairs, taking two steps at once. He
left a bewildered looking House, who wasn't able to finish his retort,
"You want -."

The male investigator walked over to him and handed him a business card,
"He'll need time. And help. This is the address of a psychotherapist who's
specializes in victims of sexual assaults."

House stared at the outstretched hand but finally took the card. His
fingers were slightly trembling and he couldn't help but ask the
investigator, "That asshole didn't ..." He had to swallow hard against the
lump in his throat before he was able to continue with the question that
burned on his soul since he found Wilson in the bathroom. "He didn't ...
go all the way, did he?"

The investigator wasn't sure if he was allowed to answer but at seeing the
raw need in House's eyes, decided to act on his feelings, "No. Your friend
got lucky. Nonetheless he will need help."

House straightened up, tension flowing slowly out of his body and answered
with confidence, "He will get all the help he needs."

He nodded towards the investigator, then limped over to the elevator,
following Wilson.

XXXXX

He arrived at Wilson's office as the very same opened the door. House
pushed him back into his office and closed the door behind him.

"Hey, what are you doing? I thought we'd go to the car and drive to the
hotel." Wilson talked too fast, too loud, and too cheerful.

House glowered at him, "We're going home."

"What? But you promised me we were going to see the play and have a nice
weekend," Wilson whined, allowing despair to creep into his voice.

"You almost got raped two hours ago!" House yelled while banging a fist
against the door behind him.

Wilson flinched and ducked his head, looking at House from huge glazed and
frightened eyes. He blinked against the veil of tears, licked his lips and
with a slightly quivering voice replied, "That doesn't mean you're going
to get out of your promise."

House, seething with anger, removed Wilson's briefcase from his grasp and
laid his hands firmly on Wilson's shoulders. In a low voice he said,
"That's not funny! Not the slightest bit and you know that. This isn't
about me breaking a promise."

House's hands cautiously travelled up Wilson's throat and jaw, settling on
stroking Wilson's cheeks tenderly. New tears welled up in Wilson's eyes
and his throat started to throb from the pain of holding back his sobs. He
whispered, "No, it's not. It's about me wanting to forget what happened.
It's about me wanting to be with you. It's about me wanting to feel safe."

House's face softened and he pulled Wilson flush against him, holding him
as tightly as possible. Wilson was still fighting against the overwhelming
wish to cry and scream, heavy trembles shook his body and he felt chilled
to the bones.

"Most people would cry now," House suggested carefully.

"I'm not most people. And if I start now I won't stop and I really want to
spend the weekend with you like it was planned before ... before all this
happened," Wilson's voice was breaking as he loosened his grip around
House's torso so that he was able to look him in the eye. Softly he added,
"Please."

House had to press his lips together tightly at Wilson's plea, the raw
need in Wilson's eyes was tearing his heart apart. His voice sounded
unfamiliar and hoarse when he answered, "Do you know that the security
guards followed me because they thought I had something to do with the
sprinkler system going off in Cuddy's office? That is the only reason why
you're not another number in the rape statistics?"

Wilson winced and averted his eyes. House held on to him more tightly when
he tried to squirm free. House laid a hand on Wilson's chin and tipped it
slightly, forcing Wilson to look back at him. Wilson swallowed hard, then
repeated, "Please? I want to forget. I want to pretend nothing happened.
Just for the next two days."

"You can't pretend that nothing happened. You are already traumatized from
the car accident."

"I'm not traumatized! But you will be if I'm not going to see that play
because I'll nag you for the next couple years!"

House smiled when he saw the pouting face and heard the petulant
undertone. He tilted his head a bit and with as much tenderness as he
could muster, kissed Wilson. Wilson's immediate reaction was a needy
whimper and to clutch tightly at House. When they broke apart he asked,
"So, is it a yes, we're going?"

"We will pretend that nothing happened for the weekend. On Monday you'll
make an appointment with this psychotherapist," House answered and showed
Wilson the business card.

"I -" Wilson was cut off by House, "Take the deal or we're going to stay
at home."

Wilson stared at him, then insisted, "I'm fine. He didn't get what he
wanted. It was just a huge scare."

House closed his eyes shortly before he repeated calmly, "Take the deal
and don't play it down."

Big brown eyes studied him intensely. Wilson shuffled his feet - then
stared at a spot on the wall, his eyes unfocussed. His voice was barely a
whisper when he asked, "Will you be angry if there's no sex this weekend?"

House's mouth hung open as his thoughts whirled around in his head,
thinking that this must be the most inappropriate question ever. Carefully
he answered, "I will be angry if you don't allow me and a psychotherapist
to help you."

Wilson's eyes swept over to him again, a very small but genuine smile
forming on his lips. "You're very insistent. But ... okay. Come on, let's
go."

He picked up his briefcase and tugged at House's hand. House knew that a
lot of work was lying ahead but if Wilson needed the escape of what
happened today he was willing to give it to him. He didn't let go of
Wilson's hand during their walk to the car which earned him a startled
look out of troubled brown eyes. Trouble gave way to different emotions,
amazement and love being the most obvious ones. 

END  
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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.