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  Lockdown 
 by Jackyblu  

 Chapter One

Dr. James Wilson stepped from his patient's room and looked back inside
before sliding the door closed. The parents were crying and hugging the
sick child in the bed. Remission. Wilson loved to say that word. It meant
everything. Faith, hope, and salvation all rolled into one medical term.
On the outside he was smiling and professional in his appearance, but
inside he was celebrating a touch down, and spiking a metaphorical
football in the end zone.

He felt so good that he needed to celebrate this moment with someone,
someone who wouldn't care if he dropped his professional demeanor and did
a literal victory dance. House.

Wilson left the pediatric cancer ward and made his way to the lobby. He
stopped outside the clinic and on a whim retrieved a couple of lollipops
from the jar, an orange one for himself and a red one for House. He
laughed to himself at the obvious bribe he would need to give his best
friend just to make him shut up and sit still long enough to listen to
Wilson tell his tale of triumph over the monster cancer.

He placed the two sweets in his lab coat pocket and turned to continue his
walk to the elevators and the offices of Oncology and Diagnostic Medicine.
He noticed that the lobby was suddenly much busier and noisier. Security
officers were running past. An officer locked the front doors. Nurses and
doctors were moving patients and their families into the clinic and other
areas, including the gift shop. Fear was radiating from every face.

"Dr. Wilson!" Brenda the clinic desk nurse shouted. "We need to get the
waiting room cleared!"

"What's happened?" Wilson asked hurrying to her.

"We're in lockdown! A man with a gun is in the hospital! He's already shot
a doctor!"

"Oh my God! Who?"

"I don't know."

They rushed people into every room they could. Wilson came hurrying in
carrying a teenage girl who had broken her ankle while her mother ran
behind. When the last person was inside, the doors were locked. Now they
waited for the all clear. Wilson was edgy. He didn't want to be locked up
in the clinic! He wanted more information on what was happening. He needed
to know the whereabouts of every one of his colleagues. His pager went off
and startled him badly. He reached to his belt and removed it and saw a
flicker of lights before it went dead. The batteries. Perfect timing. He
clipped it back to his belt. There were fresh batteries in his desk
drawer. He would replace them before he went to House's office. He kept
expecting his cell phone to ring. If he didn't answer his page then surely
the person who paged would call. He thought that if his phone did ring it
would be House's gruff voice on the other end asking him if he was under a
desk and which nurse he had chosen as his companion. Then he would tease
Wilson about being jealous and say that whoever he was with had better
remember that James Wilson was the property of one Gregory House who was
by and large a possessive bastard.

Shadows were running past the clinic doors. Wilson was fighting not to
pace around the room. People were nervous enough without seeing a doctor
looking like a caged animal. The eventual banging on the clinic door by a
security officer was a relief to him. He helped Brenda unlock and secure
the doors open.

"Joe?" Wilson looked at the officer and tried to keep his voice calm.

"They got him Dr. Wilson. Shot the bastard. I'm so sorry," Joe, said
placing a hand on Wilson's shoulder, "I know he's your friend."

Wilson's eyes became very large and filled with a realization that was
shredding his heart. "Dr. House was shot?" His mouth was too dry and his
heart too painful to ask if he was still alive.

"I thought you knew. They've taken him to the ER."

Wilson didn't remember running all the way there. If he had been asked he
would have said that his legs hadn't held his weight and that he had
collapsed on the clinic floor. When he arrived he saw Cameron and Chase.
Chase had his arm around Cameron and they both had blood on their clothes.
Greg's blood! They looked devastated and he couldn't help but remember how
young they were.  Dad's been shot. Big brother Foreman must be with him.
They both looked up when he approached.

"Dr. Wilson!" Cameron began tearfully trying to wrap herself around his
neck.

"No, Allison," he said taking her wrists and putting her arms back down at
her side. " I can't do this. I need for you to tell me what happened to
House. I need to know so that I'll be able to help him."

She tearfully explained how the gunman came calmly into the office and
asked which one of them was Dr. House. House of course, had made an
off-hand remark about thank yous and chocolates. He had then been shot
point blank in the lower right quadrant. The impact of the bullet had
knocked him off his feet and he had fallen to the floor looking surprised.
She choked back tears and couldn't continue.

Chase told Wilson that the three of them had tried to reach House, but the
gunman had turned the gun on them and warned them not to touch him. He
then turned calmly back to House and pointed the gun at him again. Chase
finished the story. "He said something like, who would want to hurt you?
And then he leveled the gun at him and the bastard shot him in the neck
piercing the jugular." He looked at Cameron and rubbed small circles on
her back with his hand. "Allison pushed her fingers into the wound and
kept him from bleeding out."

Wilson gave her a look of gratitude that was heart felt, before he leaned
forward and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry. I needed to know what I was up
against." What Chase had told him had left him badly shaken. He couldn't
help thinking of Greg looking at that raised gun having already been shot
once and wondering if the next bullet would be directed at his heart or
his head. How frightened had he been? 

Foreman appeared from the curtained area. Foreman too was stained with
blood. "Dr. Wilson, he's asking for you." Foreman moved slowly over to
Cameron and Chase and stood quietly with them. Again Wilson was forcefully
reminded of kids whose parent had been in an accident. He moved toward the
curtain when Cameron called out to him. 

"He said he wants ketamine."

Wilson didn't answer but nodded to show he heard her. He hitched a more
neutral look on his face and stepped behind the curtain. 

House was lying on the gurney that he had been brought in on. He was
hooked up to monitors and oxygen. On the floor were his jacket and bloody
shirt as well as large gauze pads soaked with blood. His chest and stomach
were streaked with his blood. He had new pads taped to his neck and a
nurse was holding some more to the wound on the right side of his stomach.
So much blood lost. Greg's blood, Wilson thought again. He was trying to
get closer to Greg to let him know that he was here, and stay out of the
ER doctors and nurses way at the same time. 

"Wilson."

"I'm here House."

"This sucks."

"Big time." He took his best friend's right hand in his and held it. His
grasp was weak and his hand was cold. Wilson placed his left hand around
House's trying to warm it or maybe to give him more strength. He really
didn't know. He held House's eyes with his own and at that moment there
was no one else in the world but them. He took his left hand from around
Greg's and began smoothing his hair. He didn't give a damn if the whole
hospital talked about them. 

House looked into Wilson's eyes. "I'm not dead yet," he whispered.

"Glad to hear it. Because every time you nearly do die it ages me."

"The next time a crazed gunman comes in looking for me I'll ask him if he
would mind not shooting me today because it is very hard on my best
friend." House smiled weakly.

"I would appreciate that." 

House closed his eyes and enjoyed the gentle caresses through his hair. He
felt safe now that James was here. The damage was done and it could be
repaired. He was just so tired. 

Dr. Lisa Cuddy stepped around the curtain. "We have an OR ready." She
looked at Wilson and then at House. Her eyes were very red. But she was
keeping a professional demeanor as befits the head of a hospital. She
would fall apart on her own time. There is a lesson to be learned here,
James thought. Keep the banter with Greg light, and fall apart on my own
time.

"Your table is waiting Dr. House." Wilson said softly.

"Be sure it's close to the band."

"I'll tip the matre d' a twenty." Wilson smiled at his best friend. He
resisted the urge to brush House's forehead with his lips. He smoothed his
hair one last time and then tried to move out of the way of the team who
was taking House to the OR. His grip tightened on Wilson's right hand. He
didn't want to let go. Wilson would have to walk along with them.

"I want ketamine," House said weakly.

"Cameron told me." Wilson was looking at Cuddy who was hurrying along the
corridor with them.

"You read the study? I placed a copy in both of your offices."

"That article that was written in German?" Cuddy asked. "I don't read
German."

"Wilson?" Hissed a soft low voice.

"I got it translated. I'm not sure I agree with their assessment of the
benefits."

"If it works I walk again, pain free," he sighed.

"If it fails you'll have hallucinations. Damage to the hippocampal
formation and the prefrontal cortex is possible. You may lose your mind."

Cuddy looked at Wilson. "What are the percentages?"

"Fifty percent that a successful 're-boot' of the brain can occur. Fifty
percent possibility of no benefit. Within that fifty percent, thirty
percent of those patients experienced neurological disorders that were
permanent."

She looked down at House's face on the pillow. "Is walking without a cane
worth the risk of loosing your mind?"

House looked at her. "The possibility of walking without pain, running,
playing tennis, climbing stairs, golfing, walking without pain, it's worth
it to me."

"You would trade your mind for your leg?"

"This time it is my choice!" He hissed again.

James squeezed his hand. "Greg, even if it is successful, there is
documentation that suggests that the effects may not be permanent." 

"I have to take the chance. I want to be normal again."

"You always said normal was boring."

"Everybody lies Jimmy. Even me." The conversation had exhausted him. He
prayed that James understood his decision. 

They arrived outside OR one. "We're here. Do you want me in there with
you?"

"Yes. Please," an exhausted House whispered. He closed his eyes again.

James brought his head down near Greg's ear. "I'll go and scrub. See you
in a few minutes." He then gently brushed his lips against Greg's cheek.
When he straightened up his eyes met Cuddy's. She had the good grace not
to look either shocked or surprised by the affection she had just
witnessed. She chose instead to smile her wholehearted approval at Wilson.
He returned the smile and left for the scrub room.

"James?" A soft deep voice came from the pillow.

"He's gone to scrub for your surgery." Cuddy took Wilson's place holding
House's hand and smoothing his hair. 

"Ketamine."

"Are you sure? I'm worried that the pain is making you make a bad choice."

"Its still my choice. I want the chance to be whole again."

"It is your choice. I won't interfere and neither will James." She felt
the tears coming to her eyes and blinked them away quickly. He didn't need
to see her crying over him.

"I'm so tired." He hadn't opened his eyes since James had left. It was too
much effort.

"I'm not surprised. You've lost a lot of blood," she said softly. He
looked so vulnerable lying there. His chest rose and fell with each
shallow breath he took, blood had dried in streaks on his skin, while
continuing to soak through the thick gauze pads over his wounds. She knew
it was ridicules, but she couldn't stop herself from placing her hand on
his chest over his heart to feel it beating. It was, but weakly. She was
still holding his hand in her other. She gave his a little squeeze. Hold
on House, she prayed and the tears again began to escape her. God he could
get under her skin faster than any man alive. 

The doors opened to the OR and the nurse came to wheel the gurney inside.
Cuddy took her hand from his chest. She was about to let go of his hand
when he looked at her with his startling blue eyes. "I'm scared Lisa," he
exhaled softly. He closed his eyes and his head rolled to one side. His
hand loosened its grip on hers. They took him inside and the OR doors
closed. Cuddy turned away from the doors and walked to the ladies room to
sob her heart out over a man who made her life more difficult than it ever
had to be, but more interesting and challenging than she could ever have
hoped.

Wilson had changed into scrubs and was at the sink washing when the
anesthesiologist entered grinning. He was blond, tan, five foot eleven,
and full of shit. "I heard the crazy son-of-a-bitch wants ketamine."

Wilson looked up from the sink but continued using the brush on his hands
and nails. "Dr. House does indeed want ketamine Dr. Chambers. Do you need
to read up on how to administer it? I'm sure the operation can wait until
someone helps you with the big words." There were a couple of stifled
snickers from the other doctors and nurses in the room.

"Oh, Dr. Wilson! I should have known that wherever House was you would be
right behind. Bringing up the rear so to speak," came a snide voice from
directly behind him.

Wilson calmly picked up the antibiotic soap pointed it under his arm and
squeezed the bottle hard. He caught the anesthesiologist full in the face.
"Oops. Sorry. It slipped."

The now blinded doctor dashed in the direction of the sink to flush his
eyes with water. He was throwing curses and threats at Wilson as he
splashed water in his eyes rapidly. Wilson was carefully drying his hands
and when he turned and walked away from the sink the enraged Dr. Chambers
made a move toward him that ended with Chambers slipping on the now soapy
floor and ass-planting on his tailbone with a sickening crunch. 

"Need another anesthesiologist in here," Wilson observed casually.

Professional decorum went out the window as the doctors and nurses laughed
at the hapless Dr. Chambers. He was regarded by most of his peers as the
biggest ass in the hospital, more so even than the patient in the OR
awaiting surgery.

"Nicely done," a nurse said as James put on gloves. "I didn't think you
were so..." She gestured with her hand being unable to find the right
word.

"Vindictive? Thank you. I've learned from the best." 

The doctors and nurses entered the OR. House had been prepped for the
surgery but was still waiting for the ketamine. He had regained
consciousness but was very weak.

"Hi," Wilson said softly as he came along side the table.

"I understand that Dr. Chambers needs a stand in?" House whispered.

"He's feeling a little down today."

"He's an ass."

"Then his malady is highly appropriate."

House tried to quirk an eyebrow at James but couldn't manage it. "Look if
this thing goes badly..."

"It won't."

"Just in case..."

"The anesthesiologist is here. Time for you to shut up and go to sleep."

"James."

"It will be alright. We'll talk after you wake up."

"I love you. I wanted you to know," House said softly. 

"I do know. I'll be here for you when you wake up, no matter what happens.
I promise." Trust me, Wilson prayed.

The new anesthesiologist was a woman in her forties. She had a calm and
confident air about her and spoke gently to her patient. "Dr. House, I
need for you to sign this release stating that you understand the risks
associated with ketamine."

"I understand." House took the pen and tried to sign the form. He managed
something that passed for Gregory House. Sighing he said softly to Wilson,
"I know this is unthinkable, but this may be the one time that I am
actually wrong about a medical decision. Wouldn't that be ironic?"

The anesthesiologist began injecting the ketamine into the line already in
House's arm. James watched the anesthetic as it ran into the line.

"Not really. You've been wrong on so many other occasions your chances are
excellent that you're right about this." Wilson raised his eyebrow in a
very House-like way.

"Jerk," House said drowsily before he drifted off.

"Ass," Wilson said quietly his eyes filled with affection.

"Okay people, let's repair a House," the surgeon quipped.

"Marty," Wilson said shaking his head.

"Sorry James. I couldn't resist."

Chapter Two

House opened his eyes. He was in the ICU. Looking to his right, he saw a
sleeping figure slumped in a chair with his feet up on another one. The
young man had about a two-day growth of beard, very wrinkled untucked
shirt and messy hair. House reached over to the nightstand and picked up
the water pitcher. It had some ice still floating in it. He pulled a
couple of cubes out and threw them at the slumbering young man hitting him
on the cheek and forehead. 

Wilson stirred in his sleep and then opened his eyes. "You're awake!"

"Obviously. Incidentally I don't appreciate you stealing my style bro. I'm
the way too cool, casual dressing doc in this hospital! Next thing I know
you'll be riding a bike and walking with a limp."

"Sorry, didn't mean to infringe upon your area."

"I've got that look trademarked. You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

"Your lawyer dumped you as a client and had himself committed just to
avoid having to take any more of your cases."

"Oh right. I forgot about that."

"How's the pain?"

"The neck is about a three, the gut is around a six."

"And the leg?"

House considered the question. "About a one. But maybe the other pain is
distracting me from my leg."

"Possibly. Do you need the morphine upped?"

"A bit. Did they get it all?"

Wilson moved to the IV stand and opened the panel with his key. He
increased the morphine slightly. "Yes. Nothing left behind to set off the
metal detectors at airports."

"Good. I've already made the 'No Fly' list once." 

Wilson went to check House's IV line. "Hungry?"

"No. The morphine has pretty much killed my appetite."

"You need to eat. You can't really afford to loose weight."

"You want me to get fat? I try and keep my figure for you, you know."

"I wouldn't mind having a bit more to hold on to."

"I am never good enough for you," House pouted at Wilson.

"Well you can't cook and you don't clean, so all you have is your looks."

"My mother warned me about men like you," House crossed his arms and
looked very put out.

There was a knock on the glass door. Chase, Cameron and Foreman were
waiting outside.

"Put on a happy face. We don't want the kids to think we're fighting. It
will traumatize them."

"Alright, but we need to work this out before bed tonight."

"Never go to bed angry, unless there is a chance of awesome make-up sex."

Wilson smirked and went over to open the door for the kids. "He just had
an increase in his morphine so don't be offended if he drops off to sleep
on you," he told them.

Cameron was at House's bedside in a heartbeat. "How are you feeling?"

"Wow! That was amazing. You were in the doorway, and snap now you're here
dripping honey-dipped angst all over me. Did you materialize here or did I
just zone out for a moment?" House's eyes were going a little out of
focus. 

"Forgive me for being worried about you."

"Too late! Wilson is in charge of the worry department. You'll just have
to find another job." House snickered.

Cameron moved away from his bed looking hurt. Foreman began to bristle.
"You're alive because she kept her head and stopped you from bleeding to
death! I know it's hard for you, but you might at least try to be
grateful."

Wilson looked at Foreman. "You're wasting your time. He's out again." 

House had closed his eyes and the rise and fall of his chest proved that
he was deep asleep again.

Wilson walked over to Cameron, Chase and Foreman. "He isn't going to be
real sharp for a while. Be patient. He'll remember what happened and how
you all helped him. He is grateful Foreman. I know he is aware that you
all saved his life. The process of healing takes time. He's only just
started. He has a long way to go." Wilson looked at his sleeping friend
with a shadow of worry across his face. "Look, its late. Why don't you all
go home and get some rest. I'll call if there is any change."

"When is the last time you were home?" Chase asked. "I'll bet fifty
dollars you haven't left this room since they brought him in."

"No bet," Wilson said. "I'll grab a shower and put on some clean scrubs
tonight. I'll be fine."

"Do you want us to bring you something to eat that isn't from the
cafeteria?"

Wilson was about to say no, when he realized it was Thursday, pizza, beer
and bad movie night with House. It was their tradition. He couldn't ignore
a tradition just because Greg got shot! "Would you pick up a pizza from
Carino's for me?"

"Uh, sure. You want a whole pizza?"

"Of course. I'll want breakfast in the morning after all."

"What do you want on it?"

"The works. Just tell Johnny that you want the 'House' special. He'll
know." He pulled out his wallet but Foreman waved it away.

"We got this."

"Thanks. You don't have to do that you know."

"We know. It's worth it to be able to go home to our own beds and not
spend the evening with Dr. Psych-ward."

"It is so nice that you guys have these affectionate nick-names for each
other." Wilson smiled at them. "Thanks for the pizza. Goodnight Dr. Chase,
Dr. Cameron, Dr. Def Jam."

Foreman chuckled. "Be right back with the pizza."

The three juniors left the room and once again Wilson was alone with
House. "Pizza night Greg. Let's see what we can find on the TV." House
continued to sleep. Wilson scanned most of the channels but couldn't find
anything truly awful until he chanced upon Ed Wood's infamous "Plan 9 From
Outer Space". Exactly what the doctor ordered!

Within an hour he was happily munching pizza and giving House a running
narrative of the movie. House slept on.

When the movie ended. Wilson checked House's vitals again. He called the
nurse to watch after him while he went to take a shower and change. 

Returning to the ICU, Wilson didn't see the nurse, but heard the code. She
was down the hall with another patient who needed her more. He entered
House's room and sat down in the chair a moment. House began to toss and
turn. He was grabbing the blanket and twisting it in his hands. "Don't!
Please! God, please!" House was having a nightmare caused by the trauma
and the morphine. James was on his feet and at Greg's side. 

"Greg. Greg wake up." He shook House gently afraid that he might frighten
him badly.

House was crying in his sleep. He was begging for James to help him. When
he finally woke he was disoriented and scared. His heart hammered in his
chest and his breath came in painful gasps. James sat beside House on the
bed and House clung to him like a child while his heart rate and breathing
slowly returned to normal. James held Greg and rubbed his back in an
effort to sooth him. 

"It's okay. I'm here. You're alright." James spoke softly and held Greg to
him.

"James. Oh my God, James! I remember the shooting."

He held House a little tighter. "That was going to happen eventually. Do
you want to talk about it?" He expected Greg to say no and bring his
defenses up again.

"I didn't see it coming. This calm mousy man walks into the office and
asks which of us is House. I identified myself and he shoots me in the
stomach. I remember a burning pain and something pushing me hard. I
knocked over the whiteboard when I fell to the floor. He yelled something
at the kids." House was breathing hard; his chest rose and fell rapidly at
the memory. Wilson was trying to calm him, but House was reliving the
terror.

"He pointed the gun back at me and I thought I was going to die. He held
the gun on me and said something; I don't remember what it was. And I
waited to feel the next bullet enter my body. A bullet in my brain seemed
kind. I assumed that he was going to shoot me in the chest or stomach
again. I was terrified. That moment was all that was left of my entire
life. And you weren't there." House looked at Wilson and the tears ran
down his face.

Oh God. Greg I'm so sorry! Wilson wiped the tears from House's face and
placed a light kiss on his cheek. "I would have been there if I could
have. They locked down the hospital. I was trapped in the clinic."

House actually smiled slightly at that. "Trapped in the clinic? That's
where you were when the lockdown happened? Idiot. Haven't I taught you to
avoid that place like the plague?"

Wilson suddenly remembered why he had gone by there in the first place.
"Wait a minute. I had a very good reason for being there. Be right back."
He released House and got off the bed. House was curious enough not to
protest James leaving. James went across the room and picked up his lab
coat. Reaching in the pocket he pulled something out and palmed it into
his hand. He returned to the bed and reclined beside House. "The reason I
was in the area of the clinic was to get you this." He produced the red
lollipop with a flourish as if it was the finish to a spectacular magic
trick.

House smiled like a delighted child. "You got me a lollipop? Why?"

"I wanted to celebrate. Little Charlie Moore is in remission." Wilson
grinned and unwrapped his orange lollipop and placed it in his mouth.

"Reason to celebrate," agreed House and unwrapped his own sweet and popped
it into his mouth.

Wilson was pleased. This was the first thing he had seen House eat since
the shooting. Okay, maybe a steady diet of red dye and sugar wasn't the
best thing for a growing Diagnostician but it was a start. Eating candy,
could pizza and beer be too far behind?

"Get anything good on this thing?" House asked indicating the TV with the
candy.

"Found an Ed Wood this evening."

"Seriously? Damn it, its Thursday? Did you get pizza?"

"Yes."

"From Carino's?"

"Of course."

"I have taught you well," he said nodding his approval.

"Do you want some?"

House held up his lollipop. "No thanks. My plate is full."

James frowned but covered it quickly trying to act more casual than he
felt. "Its better for breakfast anyway."

"Hot coffee and cold pizza, the breakfast of champions and med students
everywhere."

They found 'Mr. Smith Goes to Washington' which both agreed was a classic
and settled to watch. By the time Jimmy Stewart was giving his filibuster
speech before congress, House was sleeping peacefully. James carefully
removed the now empty paper stick from his hand. When the nurse entered to
check his vitals Wilson waved her away indicating that he would do it and
to let the patient sleep for now. He did ask her to decrease the morphine
with the hope that House wouldn't need as much now that he was asleep and
wanting to avoid more nightmares if possible. When she left Wilson shifted
himself to get comfortable being careful not to wake House. He looked at
his best friend and everything that had happened in the last couple of
days caught up with him at last. The pain and fear of almost loosing Greg
again came crashing down on him. Falling apart on my own time, he thought.
The tears came fast and hard. God, I love him. Please stop letting these
things happen to him. He doesn't deserve it. He deserves to be happy and
healthy. He is a good man. Don't hurt him anymore. Please don't take him
from me. Wilson's face was dripping with the silent tears he shed still
afraid he would wake House. He cried as the ache in his chest increased to
a point that he thought he could no longer endure. He laid his head back
and let the tears flow until he was too exhausted to remain awake. 

Chapter 3

The next morning Dr. Lisa Cuddy was looking at a sight that both amused
her and caused her heart to hurt. Upon one bed in the ICU were two close
friends who were a little closer than usual. House raised his finger to
his lips to warn Cuddy to be quiet and indicated the sleeping Wilson. She
smiled her understanding and walked quietly to House's side of the bed.
"How are you feeling?" She asked in a whisper.

"Like I really need to pee, but I don't want to wake him." House inclined
his head toward the slumbering Wilson.

"I'll get a catheter." Cuddy volunteered.

"Time to get up Jimmy!" House nudged Wilson a little more urgently than
was necessary.

"What?" 

"Wake up sleepy head. I need to rid myself of unwanted fluids before Cuddy
invades my privacy."

"She does what?" James was still too tired to keep up with this
conversation.

"I'm going to wet the bed and everybody in it."

Now Wilson was awake. "Oh sorry!" He moved quickly from the bed.

"Thanks." House carefully sat up and moved the bed cover after checking to
see that his hospital gown was giving him as much coverage as they were
designed to provide which admittedly wasn't much. 

"Do you want help?" James asked.

"Nope. I got it." House slowly moved his legs until they were over the
edge of the bed and he could touch the floor. He put his left hand on the
IV stands pole and stood up. Pushing the stand ahead of him, House walked
across the room and into the bathroom. When he came back out it was to
discover Wilson and Cuddy standing side-by-side smiling through tears.
"What? I haven't received this much attention for going to the bathroom by
myself since I was two. Did I do okay Mom and Dad? Do I get another
lollipop?" He was getting very uncomfortable with them staring at him. 

"How's the leg?" Wilson asked quietly.

"Fine." He returned to the bed and sat down. He brought his legs back up
and under the covers being careful not to make any moves that might tear
his stitches.

"You're not feeling any pain?" Cuddy asked incredulously.

"Not in my leg. My stomach and neck however are a bit more vexing."

"My God it worked. You're walking without pain!" Cuddy wiped tears from
her face.

"You doubted me?" He placed a disbelieving look on his face. "I find your
lack of faith in me disconcerting, but not all together surprising." House
said very smugly.

"What doesn't surprise me is your ability to still be an ass." 

"Yes," he grinned. "But a pain-free walking ass. I think that makes this a
good day."

Wilson smiled and nodded in agreement. "You bet your ass it does!"

"Jimmy, I think its time for breakfast. Any pizza left?"

"I'll get you some. Make nice with Cuddy while I'm gone." Wilson left the
room almost at a jog.

Cuddy walked back to the bed. "I'm really happy for you."

"There is a but at the end of that sentence." House observed.

She gave him a nod. "But, I'm concerned that if this isn't permanent
you'll come crashing back to reality."

"You know I was just wondering how to ruin the best day of my life. Thank
goodness you were here." 

"I just hope you thought all this through."

He was becoming angry with her. "You think this was a whim? Well you're
right! I had been hoping that somebody would walk into the hospital right
past your crack security people and shoot me while I was working in my
office. So far my plan has worked perfectly," he impaled her with his
sarcasm. "You think that I acted impulsively? That I didn't research this
or think it through?" He yelled. 

"Yes. I think that you have a history of acting impulsively! It's one of
your defining characteristics!" She yelled back.

He made his voice low and dangerously quiet. "I made a medical decision
about my body! It wasn't taken away from me this time! Does it really piss
you off that much?" House had allowed the resentment he had felt all these
years to flood out of him. He wanted to hurt Cuddy as much as her words
had hurt him just now. He was afraid that the ketamine 'cure' was
temporary. He had dared to hope and he didn't know how he would deal with
another setback.

He had hurt her deeply. She knew he struck out at people who showed too
much concern for him. But that isn't what brought her to tears. It was
realizing how much resentment he still harbored toward her and the
operation that had left him crippled. He had blamed Stacy, and to be
honest, Cuddy understood that. But Stacy was gone, and now she was the
target for his pain.

He wasn't as big a bastard as he liked people to believe. He knew how
Cuddy felt about him. He knew that his diatribe toward her had hurt. But
he was still angry and wouldn't apologize. He did speak more softly to
her. "I knew the risks before I entered into this. If I get the use of my
leg back with little or no pain, then I'll take it. Whether it lasts for
years, months or weeks, it was worth it. I just want my life back for as
long as I can have it." He looked at her and wanted her to understand.

"No regrets?"

"If it doesn't last I'll have regrets. But not about trying."

She walked over to the bed and placed her hand against the side of his
face before very surprisingly kissing his lips. He was so startled that
his mouth opened a bit and she took that as an invitation and gained entry
with her tongue. His eyes popped open. Maybe this is one of those
hallucinations the article mentioned. If it was, it wasn't bad. He decided
to go with it. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and placed his arm
around her pulling her closer to him. There is a thin line between anger
and lust apparently.

Wilson stood frozen at the door with two plates of re-warmed pizza. He was
having a hard time processing what he was seeing and an even harder time
trying not to feel hurt by it. He tried to toss it off with a comment.
"Hey! I said make nice, not make love."

Cuddy pulled back quickly. "We..."

"Had a big fight and now she wants make up sex. I told her I was spoken
for but she forced me. By the way," House said looking quizzically at
Cuddy, "did you cop a feel just before they took me into the OR, or was
that some bizarre dream I had?" House made his eyes very large to amuse
Wilson but failed miserably.

"Ass!" Cuddy shot at him before leaving the room. She was embarrassed by
her spontaneous behavior toward House. She was also sorry at not having
realized just how serious Wilson's feelings were toward him.

"Breakfast," James said as he placed the plates on the adjustable table
and set it before House.

"James."

"Do you want coffee or juice, or..."

"James."

"I can get you whatever you want," he was starting to ramble. "It won't
take a minute. Just tell me what you want." He was looking into House's
eyes with such pain.

"I want you to sit down and listen to me for a minute." He took James'
hand and made him sit down on the edge of the bed. "Please."

"You know, I haven't been near my office for a few days and I'll bet my
email if full, not to mention my voice mail box. Maybe I should try and
get a few hours in today." Wilson rose from the bed to leave, but House
held onto his hand.

"This has been a few very strange days for all of us. What you just saw
was an anomaly and it won't ever happen again. I'm sorry."

"Do you want her?" He asked quietly.

"Sometimes," House answered honestly. "Don't you?"

"Sometimes," Wilson admitted. "I just want you more," he finished softly.

House nodded as he replied. "Good, because it would be awkward if we were
living together and lusting after the same woman."

"You want to live together again?" Wilson asked in surprise. "You were
ready to throw me out the first day."

"Different sleeping arrangements this time."

"You said I was too noisy in the mornings."

"I have a fool proof plan. If I keep you awake most of the night we'll
both sleep later into the morning."

"Why does that require different sleeping arrangements? You kept me up
most of the night before either with the piano or the TV."

"Well in order for my plan to work I'll need you much closer than the
living room," House quirked an eyebrow at Wilson.

"How much closer?"

"In my bed."

"Good plan."

"Any chance you might give up that sissy blow-drying-your-hair habit?"

"Is there something you would rather have me blow?" Wilson asked
innocently.

House chuckled. Wilson talking dirty always amused him. It seemed so out
of character, but House knew better. "Easy buddy. I'll pop my stitches." 

"Can't have that. I need you all better." Wilson kissed House on the
forehead. "And to that end," Wilson indicated the pizza on the plate
resting on the table in front of House. "Eat. Doctors and lovers orders."

"Got a beer hidden in your lab coat?"

"I'll get you a soda."

"Not the same thing," House pouted.

"IV saline?"

"I'll have a cola."

"Thought so. I'll be right back. I should expect a visit from your
ducklings soon."

"Poor Cameron. She'll be devastated."

"What? Why?" Wilson looked extremely puzzled.

House smiled at him. "It appears that I am officially off the market. All
this damage and all this angst going to waste. And then once the wounds
heal, no more pain. Nothing to cause her little heart to quicken its beat
whenever we're in the same room together."

"Yup. Life is monumentally unfair." Wilson stood with his hands on his
hips and grinned at House. Truth be told, he was pleased that Cameron
would have no reason to look at House with the eyes of a teenager
experiencing her first crush.

"Thirsty," House reminded him.

Wilson raised both hands in surender. "Alright, I'm on my way." Wilson
walked to the door and was about to step out in the hall when he looked
back into the room at House. "Quack," he said as a warning.

House rolled his eyes. "They saved my life. I have to remember to thank
them now don't I?" He shrugged and added smirking, "Too bad my memory
isn't what it was. Must have been the trauma." He called to Wilson just
before he stepped through the door, "Tell them they better have brought me
some interesting case!"

Wilson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. What had he expected?
Walking or limping, House was House. Wilson greeted the three younger
doctors cheerfully. "Morning troops! Your fearless leader awaits you
within. I will be back in a moment." Then just to be ornery and to annoy
House he added to Cameron, "be sure he eats something." Cameron nodded
taking the task as her sole responsibility. Wilson chuckled as he walked
down the hall. House would kill him as soon as he was feeling better. Of
course, he'll have to catch me first James thought, and then he stopped. 
That was now a very real possibility. James Wilson never felt better in
his life. He couldn't wait to get House home. Our home he thought. A new
world was now open to them. He and Greg going for a morning jog. Going
golfing again. Playing tennis against Cuddy and a partner to be determined
later. Finding a pickup basketball game somewhere. Softball in the spring.
Greg was a terrific Lacrosse player. James would be in the stands cheering
for him. James enjoyed horseback riding and before the infarction had
almost convinced Greg to try it. He imagined that now Greg would want to
try everything at least once. Their life together was going to be so good!

Thank God and ketamine.

  
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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
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