fills the whumptober prompts from #03 ("manhandled", "forced to their knees" and "held at gunpoint"), as well as "blood loss" (from #10) and "shoot the hostage" (from #16).
-
House wishes he'd known better, wishes he could have known sooner, could've seen this coming, but he never would've expected this if he's telling the truth. How was he supposed to know that this new patient of the week was a wanted serial killer? It's not just something you would know just by looking at somebody, so it's not exactly like House could really be blamed for this.
He'd only just found out right after the team had figured out the guy's identity, and they'd notified the police immediately when they'd realized who he was. But it seems the man knew what was up from the second horrified looks crossed their faces, ones that they just couldn't seem to conceal, and now he's taken a bunch of them hostage in the cafeteria; a few nurses, at least patient or two and/or people related to their patients, some other hospital staff, such as a janitor and the cafeteria staff, a couple of other doctors House could never be bothered to remember the names of, Chase, Wilson, and House himself.
The serial killer, whose name happens to be Daniel, has some of the others barricade the doors for him as he waves his gun around, pointing it at somebody random and clearly taking delight in the way this nurse squirms and whines and asks to be spared, "please, I have a family."
House chances a look over at Wilson, who stands beside him. They have their backs to one of the only free walls without booths, and their hands raised, like everyone else does. Wilson looks back and House can see the nervousness in his eyes, the slight fear there, and it makes House want to do something about it, to make this all stop but he doesn't know how.
House feels it himself, too - the fear and the nervousness - because of course he does; who isn't scared of a maniac with a gun who kills people for fun? But still, he does his best and doesn't let it show on his face or in his body language - he won't let the guy notice that he's afraid.
He watches as Daniel points the gun at one of the doctors House isn't totally familiar with but knows works in oncology with Wilson - he's seen the guy around before. The guy freezes up completely, absolutely terrified, and then the gun moves until it's aimed at Chase momentarily, before quickly moving to another nurse, who bursts into tears and hides behind the janitor.
House has no choice but to drop one of his hands down then to grip his cane tightly, putting all of his weight onto it; his leg hurts too much for him not to, but unfortunately the sudden movement catches Daniel's attention, and then his eyes are on House in an instant.
"You," he starts after a moment as he points the gun at House and the latter can feel Wilson tense up beside him, "I recognize you - you're- you're my doctor. You're the one who was supposed to figure out what's wrong with me, but instead you called the cops on me. This... all of this is your fault, you bastard!"
He waves the gun at House and takes a few steps closer, squaring his shoulders. House raises his eyebrows, pressing closer into Wilson's side, but it's no use; It's not like he can get away from this by hiding behind Wilson and putting his friend in danger.
"I mean, yeah," House admits with an awkward cough, "I'm your doctor, but technically I wasn't the one who called the cops on you, so this isn't technically my f-"
"Shut up," Daniel orders, now close enough to pull House forward by the front of his shirt, jostling Wilson in the process. Daniel yanks the cane out of House's hand and tosses it across the cafeteria and it slides across the floor, coming to a stop somewhere. Daniel presses the gun under House's jaw and against his neck, now demanding, "Get on your knees."
Instead of allowing House to comply willingly, Daniel uses his hands and forces him down to his knees before ordering him not to move or else. House's leg doesn't like this new position, screaming at him in pain and discomfort, but he doesn't say a word in protest about it - instead, House grinds his teeth together and takes a shaky breath in. He just knows Wilson's giving him a look of sympathy right now; the man probably wants to somehow take the blame and take House's place on the floor, but it's not going to happen. Even if it could happen, House wouldn't let Wilson do it.
But this is bad - Daniel has killed people before in cold blood for fun, so what's to say he's not going to kill House right here, right now? There's nothing stopping him. It doesn't matter if House lives or dies, Daniel will inevitably either leave this hospital in handcuffs only to die in prison from whatever made him sick, or will be heading straight to the morgue in a body bag today, so why should he care about the lives of anyone in this room if he'll get nothing out of sparing them?
Everything results in his death now, so he probably doesn't even care about his own life anymore - he must know that he's not going to get out of this situation in a good way that works out for him, so then he's probably just going to be careless and do what he wants. Have his fun terrorizing and hurting or possibly killing a bunch of people for the last time.
House swallows as the gun is pointed at him again, but now Daniel is further away from him, standing over by the table Chase still sits at and looking around at everyone. Chase is giving House a worried look now, his eyes flickering up to somewhere behind his boss after. He must be looking at Wilson, and he's giving him that same look if so. That "how do you think he's going to get out of this one?" look, the "why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?" look, and the "fucking hell, we're probably all going to die" look, all rolled into one.
Also, where are the police? The SWAT team? Anybody? Why isn't anything being done to get this psycho out of here? It's been almost a half an hour already since they'd been taken hostage, longer since they'd initially called the cops. Shouldn't someone be trying to get ahold of them to figure out what exactly is going on in here by now?
"Can't you at least tell us what you want?" House asks as he rubs at his thigh. The ache is slowly getting worse, turning into a cramping feeling. "You're keeping all of us in here for a reason. What is it?"
"House," Wilson pleads cautiously, his voice soft as he lightly kicks (or, actually, more like nudges) House right in the ass cheek as a warning. "Stop talking. You'll get yourself killed."
House briefly glances back and looks at Wilson over his shoulder, glaring. He turns back towards Daniel, who is now pacing around. He almost looks anxious.
"What will it take for you to let all of us go?" House inquires as the cramp starts getting worse, aching up into his hip and down into his knee. He hisses and swears under his breath, trying to massage the feeling away.
"What will it take for you to shut your fucking mouth and stay still?" Daniel snaps, stopping in place momentarily, waving the gun around. "Do I need to kill someone? Will that make you listen? Because I'm perfectly fine with-"
"No, no," House interrupts, "you don't need to hurt anyone, it's..." he pauses when the cramping doesn't stop. "My leg hurts," he finally finishes in a defeated tone, slightly annoyed but trying to hold his tongue and not say anything that might upset the guy further.
"I know, and I don't give a damn!" Daniel shouts, causing House and a couple of others to flinch. "Stop moving, alright?! Stop talking! Just, all of you shut up and stay still, or else I promise you'll regret it! You hear me?"
Reluctantly, House removes his hands from his thigh, balling them into fists. He wishes he knew what this guy really wants. It's probably not money or anything like that. Maybe he wants to just go free then? Or kill a few more people? But why take so many hostages that he won't have enough bullets to finish off? Why didn't he just try to escape the hospital? Is he hoping for a bargain with the police?
It's probably that. Unless he simply wants to cause chaos before he ends up dead... but he hasn't really hurt anyone yet, so House isn't totally sure. So far, all he's done is absolutely traumatize a few of the nurses, and has freaked out everyone else in the room with his threats and the gun, but nobody has been shot or anything yet. Maybe he's waiting for someone to contact them, offer him a bargain. Something like that.
But it doesn't matter. For now, they'll all just have to sit and wait until whatever he decides.
A couple of tense minutes pass. House shifts uncomfortably, the weight on his thigh too much. He needs to take some Vicodin if he's going to be kneeling down here for any longer. Daringly, he reaches into his coat pocket, hearing Wilson whisper-yell at him to "stop moving, House. You heard what he said, so please, please don't upset him further", but House lets his fingers curl around the Vicodin bottle anyway. Biting down on his lip, he starts to pull the pills out of his pocket, but the rattling of them inside of the small, orange container alerts Daniel again. He stops moving, aiming the gun at House.
Daniel doesn't ask what House is doing. He doesn't ask what he's reaching for, doesn't tell him to stop, doesn't threaten him. No, instead he just pulls the trigger.
House is suddenly reminded of how much it hurts to get shot. Somehow he'd forgotten, it having happened before so long ago. But he remembers it clearly now, and god, does it fucking hurt.
He's lying on his back now, blinking up at Wilson, who looks shocked. His friend immediately bends down despite Daniel telling him not to move, however the psycho doesn't pull the trigger again. Wilson covers the bullet wound on House's abdomen with his hands, and House watches as his own blood gushes between his friend's fingers, spills over and stains his skin crimson. Just as House opens his mouth to speak, there's another gunshot and a few more startled gasps and cries from around the room. There's a nurse down now, too - a bullet lodged in her calf, and someone quickly moves to take care of her.
"House," Wilson says quietly after a couple of moments pass and Daniel starts pacing angrily again. His expression full of concern as he applies pressure to House's wound. It hurts, and House can't help but to wince and grimace, closing his eyes tightly. "God, you're an idiot, you know that?" his friend then chides with a soft sigh.
House's phone rings then, sounding very loud in the cafeteria. "Give it to me," Daniel demands, gesturing for one of the other nurses to grab it and hand it over. She crawls up to House with tears in her eyes and reaches for his belt to take the phone, and once it's in her hands, she looks at the caller ID.
"I- It's the Dean of Medicine, Lisa Cuddy," she murmurs and then slides it across the floor until it's at Daniel's feet, and he bends down to take it, flipping it open and putting it to his ear.
"What?" he answers harshly. He moves away as he talks on the phone, distracted, so Chase seizes the opportunity to come over to where House and Wilson are together on the floor.
"They need to hurry this up and get him out of here," Wilson says to Chase, gesturing towards Daniel with his head. "We need to get House into an OR to get this bullet out soon, before he loses too much blood. Can you find me something to cover this with while the guy is distracted? The janitor might have something on his cart."
House opens his mouth to speak as Chase quietly and carefully moves away, but swallows instead as he feels another wave of pain come over him. The good news is that it's helping out with his leg, but he's still fucking hurting.
"I'm fine," he murmurs weakly, halfheartedly trying to push Wilson's hands away, but they don't budge. "Just- just give me a couple of Vicodin to ease the pain, and... it'll be fine. And stop looking like a sad puppy. It's annoying."
Wilson shakes his head. "You're not fine," he argues, keeping his voice low. He sighs. "And it's probably not a good idea to give you Vicodin right now. I know you're hurting and I'm sorry, but it'll be over soon. I hope."
"Honestly, I feel like I might pass out," House admits, grimacing again. His eyes feel heavy and the pain is excruciating. He knows he should stay awake - he has to, but sleep is so, so fucking tempting. "You think he'll be gone by the time I've finished my nap?" he then jokes, smirking just a little. It's all he can manage.
Wilson shakes his head again, a little more concerned, it seems. "Hey, hey, no," he says, and House looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. "No sleeping. Keep looking at me, alright? You know you should stay awake right now, so just... look at me."
"I am looking at you," House huffs and rolls his eyes, but he knows his friend's right and he needs to stay conscious. Wilson clearly isn't appreciating his lame attempts at joking though - too worried to - so it makes it hard to keep his eyes open, dealing with such boring conversation. But he does keep them open, looking up at Wilson like he was told. He studies his face carefully - every line and wrinkle, any "imperfections" in his skin, the slight curve of his lips, and his soft eyes, made up of different shades of brown and flecks of gold if you look close enough.
"House?" Wilson utters carefully, looking over for the briefest moment when Daniel raises his voice, but his eyes return to House immediately after. "Listen to me, okay? Why don't you... uh... tell me something? It might help keep you awake if you talk a little."
"We're supposed to be negotiating!" Daniel shouts loudly, and House can't help but to glance over. He can't see the guy from where he's at right now though. "Do I have to kill everyone in this goddamn cafeteria or what?!"
"Don't pay attention to him," Wilson tells House suddenly, drawing his attention away from the serial killer. "Pay attention to me. Tell me something."
House gives him a questioning look and purses his lips, but does so. "You're old," he responds a little rudely, but he knows that Wilson knows he doesn't actually mean it in a bad way - in fact, House means something else entirely that has nothing to do with anything he's actually said. Maybe it means "I like you", or "I kinda find you attractive now that I'm really looking at you", or something like that. House isn't quite sure.
It gets his friend to crack a small smile, at least, no matter how Wilson interprets it.
"You're older," the oncologist counters, and maybe that means something else too. It's at that point though that Chase finally returns with a clean, unused cloth, looking a little scared of being caught.
"Janitor didn't have anything but this," he tells them and passes the cloth to Wilson, who places it over House's wound. "It's not the most sanitary thing ever, but it is clean."
Wilson nods towards House holding up his bloody hands like he does after being sanitized before a surgery. "My hands are a mess," he states softly, glancing at Chase. "Will you check his heart rate?"
Chase nods and House allows him to press his fingers to the pulse point on his neck. House stares at Wilson as Chase checks his watch to count the beats.
"107," he murmurs and then looks around again cautiously before leaning in close to speak. "Do you think I should try to help that nurse that got shot too, or should I stay right here?"
Wilson looks over the Aussie's shoulder at Daniel, who is still pacing by one of the windows with the phone still in his hand. House wonders what's happening with the call, if it's actually Cuddy on the other end or if she passed the phone off to an officer to negotiate with the guy, and then he also has to wonder what exactly they're talking about, what Daniel wants to let them go.
Unless he doesn't want anything and is planning to kill as many people as he can in this room before taking his own life, perhaps. That's sort of a dark thought, but it's entirely possible and the most likely option based on how angry Daniel seems to be. What else would he do? This guy is unpredictable.
Just as Wilson opens his mouth to reply to Chase, there's another loud gunshot and the sound of glass shattering. Somebody lets out a piercing scream as Daniel's lifeless body suddenly hits the floor, and then they're all left staring at him in a stunned silence.
What just happened? They got him? A sniper, maybe? House isn't sure but right now he doesn't care too much about it; he can find out later. For now, he's just glad it's over.
The door is unbarricaded by a few of the doctors after a moment passes so that the SWAT team and the police can come in. They flood the room, and one of the head nurses steps in after them to take a look around, calling for two gurneys. Thirteen, Taub, Foreman and Cuddy enter the room next, the first three just in case they're needed, mostly, and the latter because it's her hospital and her responsibility to be here right now. But once they see House, Wilson and Chase, the four make a beeline straight for them.
House isn't paying much attention to everything else now that he can finally relax a little, but he knows they're asking him and the other two questions: "what exactly happened?", "is he alright?", "House, can you hear us?". All of that plus more.
House's team are the ones that lift him up and onto the gurney. Moving even a little bit sends fresh waves of pain that has House gripping tightly onto anything in his reach, which in this case happens to be Wilson's forearm as they rush quickly down the hall. They need to get House into surgery since the bullet never came out. Honestly though, he can't wait to be put under and wake up with morphine in his veins, pain-free.
-
Eyes fluttering open, House awakens to find Wilson at his bedside, sitting in the chair with House's cane in his hands. Who knows how long he's been here - probably all day long. "Hey, how're you feeling?" he asks gently, sitting forward.
"Like I've been shot," House responds groggily in a way that he makes sure Wilson knows it was a stupid question to ask. Though he supposes it's the thought that counts, or something.
"I'll up your morphine," Wilson sighs tiredly, but he's smiling, taking House's hand and kissing his knuckles before standing up changing the amount of morphine he'll get. House doesn't say anything about it, but he's sure he'll be remembering the feeling for a while.
"Thank you, Jimmy," House breathes and pats Wilson's arm in a way that makes him seem insincere, but he's actually meaning the words. "You're an angel - I love you."
Wilson smiles at him again as he returns to his seat. "Mhm," he hums. "You always love me when I give you extra pain relieving drugs."
"I always love you anyways," House admits. He hates the way it sounds coming out of his mouth - the words all soft and sweet though he's not - but he means it. He needs Wilson to know that.
"I know," Wilson tells him sincerely, and then scrunches up his nose as if he's embarrassed. House thinks it's cute. "Now go back to sleep, you idiot. You need to get your rest."
House rolls his eyes at him, but he's smiling now too.