Fic: Cuddy's Will
The hand that crept up to touch Wilson was pale and shaking. He was the only one to notice House’s attempt to comfort. He usually was.
For the first time since they’d boarded that bus, everyone else’s eyes were fixed not on House, but on Wilson. They were all as still as the photographs on their chests.
Wilson felt them all watching him, waiting for him to say something, to do something. They were all there around him, but only House was there with him. The bastard had damn near killed himself to try to tell Wilson Amber was hurt.
Atropine. House needs atropine, an anticholinergic, to counteract all that physostigmine, Wilson’s mind dictated. Atropine would increase his heart rate. Of course, the medicine would be his first intelligible thought.
His mind was torn between a placid lake of numbness and a tilt-a-whirl of thoughts such as if Amber was alive, if House was going to make it, what it meant that House thought it so important to retrieve this memory or why House and Amber were on the same bus.
Amber, he had to go find out if she was okay. But House, House was definitely not okay, and he was right here. Thinking was getting too hard, he needed to do.
Wilson came to his knees and brushed the hand that had rested on his leg. He wanted to give House a look that said, “we’re going to have to actually talk about all of this later, thanks for figuring this out, this fucken sucks, and I can’t believe you almost died…again,” but ended up giving him a look that just said “what the fuck?” instead.
“I think,” House said quietly, his breathing irregular. “I think, I need to be admitted."
“That’s probably a good idea,” Wilson replied in a tone that was much steadier than he felt. “Your pulse is still slow,” he said tightening his hold on House’s wrists. “How much physostigmine did you take?” he began to ask, but House’s eyes were already shutting, his task now complete.
Wilson rose and turned to Cuddy. “We need to admit him.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she put a hand on his shoulder. “What else can I do?” she asked.
“Just take care of him. I need to go to Princeton General.”
“Of course. Call me if there’s anything I can do. I’ll come over when things are stable here,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
“I’ll be okay. Just, take care of him Lisa,” he implored, calling on their bonds of friendship.
“I will. Go.”
She waited for him to exit the bus before springing into action. “Okay people, back to work. Paula, Susan,” she said pointing to a couple of nurses, “get a stretcher, we need to transfer Dr. House. Dr. Cameron, Dr. Foreman, atropine to counteract the physostigmine, an EKG, and a repeat head CT stat. Find me as soon as that’s done.
“Come on, let’s go,” she shouted at the statue garden of staff members before her. Those closest to the door began filing out and others followed suit. Fellows, old and new gathered around their boss.
“Cameron, Foreman keep him stable and get those tests done now. Foreman, when he regains consciousness, I want a full neuro eval. Taub, Hadley make sure your team’s patient is recovering and then you can go. Kutner, find me an ICU bed and then you can join them.”
The stretcher arrived. They transferred House, and then scattered to do her bidding. Only Chase remained. He stood looking at her. “What?” she asked, taking a seat on the bus.
“He almost died,” Chase said quietly.
“Yeah,” Cuddy half laughed, half sighed. “He seems to do that a lot.”
“Wilson shouldn’t be alone,” Chase said sitting next to her.
“No, he shouldn’t, but like you said House almost died, and he still could. And I need to stay here and make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Would it be okay if I took the rest of the day off? Wilson should have someone with him, in case,” Chase asked, studying the floor of the bus.
“Go,” she said tiredly.
“And Chase, thank you,” she added as he exited the bus.
He was out the door with a nod.
Cuddy looked around the empty bus before burying her face in her hands. She forced herself to inhale and exhale, deep even breaths as she pressed her fingers against her eyes, her temples, her mouth; the mouth that had just worked fervently to breathe air into House’s lifeless body. Thinking of him, she knew she had to leave this refuge soon.
House needed her, and Wilson needed her, and her hospital needed her. And damn it, she was going to make sure they all made it through this all right. If her willing it could make it be, it would be.
Part 2
For the first time since they’d boarded that bus, everyone else’s eyes were fixed not on House, but on Wilson. They were all as still as the photographs on their chests.
Wilson felt them all watching him, waiting for him to say something, to do something. They were all there around him, but only House was there with him. The bastard had damn near killed himself to try to tell Wilson Amber was hurt.
Atropine. House needs atropine, an anticholinergic, to counteract all that physostigmine, Wilson’s mind dictated. Atropine would increase his heart rate. Of course, the medicine would be his first intelligible thought.
His mind was torn between a placid lake of numbness and a tilt-a-whirl of thoughts such as if Amber was alive, if House was going to make it, what it meant that House thought it so important to retrieve this memory or why House and Amber were on the same bus.
Amber, he had to go find out if she was okay. But House, House was definitely not okay, and he was right here. Thinking was getting too hard, he needed to do.
Wilson came to his knees and brushed the hand that had rested on his leg. He wanted to give House a look that said, “we’re going to have to actually talk about all of this later, thanks for figuring this out, this fucken sucks, and I can’t believe you almost died…again,” but ended up giving him a look that just said “what the fuck?” instead.
“I think,” House said quietly, his breathing irregular. “I think, I need to be admitted."
“That’s probably a good idea,” Wilson replied in a tone that was much steadier than he felt. “Your pulse is still slow,” he said tightening his hold on House’s wrists. “How much physostigmine did you take?” he began to ask, but House’s eyes were already shutting, his task now complete.
Wilson rose and turned to Cuddy. “We need to admit him.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she put a hand on his shoulder. “What else can I do?” she asked.
“Just take care of him. I need to go to Princeton General.”
“Of course. Call me if there’s anything I can do. I’ll come over when things are stable here,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
“I’ll be okay. Just, take care of him Lisa,” he implored, calling on their bonds of friendship.
“I will. Go.”
She waited for him to exit the bus before springing into action. “Okay people, back to work. Paula, Susan,” she said pointing to a couple of nurses, “get a stretcher, we need to transfer Dr. House. Dr. Cameron, Dr. Foreman, atropine to counteract the physostigmine, an EKG, and a repeat head CT stat. Find me as soon as that’s done.
“Come on, let’s go,” she shouted at the statue garden of staff members before her. Those closest to the door began filing out and others followed suit. Fellows, old and new gathered around their boss.
“Cameron, Foreman keep him stable and get those tests done now. Foreman, when he regains consciousness, I want a full neuro eval. Taub, Hadley make sure your team’s patient is recovering and then you can go. Kutner, find me an ICU bed and then you can join them.”
The stretcher arrived. They transferred House, and then scattered to do her bidding. Only Chase remained. He stood looking at her. “What?” she asked, taking a seat on the bus.
“He almost died,” Chase said quietly.
“Yeah,” Cuddy half laughed, half sighed. “He seems to do that a lot.”
“Wilson shouldn’t be alone,” Chase said sitting next to her.
“No, he shouldn’t, but like you said House almost died, and he still could. And I need to stay here and make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Would it be okay if I took the rest of the day off? Wilson should have someone with him, in case,” Chase asked, studying the floor of the bus.
“Go,” she said tiredly.
“And Chase, thank you,” she added as he exited the bus.
He was out the door with a nod.
Cuddy looked around the empty bus before burying her face in her hands. She forced herself to inhale and exhale, deep even breaths as she pressed her fingers against her eyes, her temples, her mouth; the mouth that had just worked fervently to breathe air into House’s lifeless body. Thinking of him, she knew she had to leave this refuge soon.
House needed her, and Wilson needed her, and her hospital needed her. And damn it, she was going to make sure they all made it through this all right. If her willing it could make it be, it would be.
Part 2