Where There Are No Happily Ever Afters: Chapter Twelve
Author's Note: Well, folks, we're getting down to the wire. Odds are, this is the second to last chapter. I might even finish and also post the last chapter tonight. Probably not, but we'll see. Oh, and this chapter is like 500 words shorter than all the others. No clue why.
They searched Arlene's house for several minutes, and after a while it felt as though their efforts would be fruitless. There was nothing of note in the attic or basement, and the cabinets contained only food. It looked like any other house in America, and it wasn't until Amber had gone back out and moved the car down the street just in case, and Wilson began considering the possibility that they should throw in the towel, that he entered what was evidently the guest room, and eyed the closet door suspiciously.
"House," he called after a moment. "Amber!" When they joined him, he walked over to the closet, pulled the door open, and knocked quietly on the back wall. He knew what the hollow sound insinuated, but he looked to the others for confirmation.
Amber was beside him a heartbeat later, pushing aside the boxes lining the floor so she could see it better, then stooping, and running a finger along a tiny line in the flooring. Finally she let out a gasp of joy. "Ah ha!"
"What'd you find," House demanded sharply.
She followed the line up the wall, where it almost got lost in the wallpaper, then she pressed her fingernail against one section neither man would have been able to find again if their lives depended on it. There was the sound of a lock clicking, then another door appeared and popped open.
"We are so gonna die," Wilson muttered, and the three began slowly entering the hidden room.
At first nobody spoke, and Wilson had to assume that the other two's voices had died in their throats as well. He stared around in wonder, trying to ignore the icy chill that shot up his back. There was so much to take in that he had to tell himself not to overreact. He took a deep breath, and began really looking around.
There was a table in the center of the room, and he was relieved to see no evidence of an animal sacrifice. He defintely wasn't trying to slaughter some poor, defenseless, little Bambi. Out of the corner of his eye he caught House's small smirk , and knew his partner knew his thoughts.
The surrounding walls were filled with shelves containing several small, clear bottles filled with different colored liquids, and books that he had never heard of. Potion-Making In Practice, Summoning Beasts (Without Losing Their Allegiance), The World You Want, Tweak The Past For A Better Tomorrow . . . The last title he carefully withdrew and examined.
Changing the past has never been an exact science, he read, but for some witches and warlocks it can be the key to a near-perfect reality. Consider the possibilities! Being able to go back and tell that special someone how you feel before they die, study for a test you failed, or invest a small fortune in stock that you know will turn around. Some may preach about 'personal gain' but this author's philosophy is 'live and let live.'
As to the right potion for such a task, it's been my personal experience that combining a potion for time travel and a potion for control tends to give the best result. But make sure, if it's not your own past that you're changing (which this author does not encourage as that can be very dangerous), to add a memory altering potion as well. Otherwise the subject may become aware of the changes, and try to set it back.
Wilson swallowed hard, then flipped to the back of the book, where the reversals were, and there it was, in black and white: Reality Reset.
His eyes flew across the page, excitement pumping in his ears, so heavy he couldn't take anything in. He took another deep breath, then began reading again.
Negating a Reality Altering potion -
"What was that?"
Wilson jumped a mile at House's words, and spun around to face him. His blue eyes were narrowed as he cocked his head to the side, listening, and Amber slipped closer to the two men. Wilson opened his mouth to mock House when he heard what he'd been talking about. A rustling sound was coming from the whereabouts of the kitchen.
Amber moved with lightening speed and clamped her hand around the door handle on their side, and pulled it shut behind them. "We should probably hide," she hissed when neither man moved.
"Why," House argued. "There are three of us. Pretty sure, even with the cripple here, we can take her." Wilson wordlessly held up Summoning Beasts and House nodded quickly. "Okay, okay, sold."
He and Wilson found a spot on the far side of the room, between the side of the bookshelf and the wall; Amber ducked under another table that was set up on the left side of the room, the black table cloth partially hiding her. As she slid her knees up to her chest, the door to the room was flung open.
"They think they can beat me," roared the furious, female voice.
Wilson felt House's arms slip around his waist, pulling him closer and hiding him more securely.
"I'll kill them," she shrieked. Wilson could hear her flipping frantically through the pages of some book, and when she came to the page she was searching for, he listened to her tear it out. "That idiot, Wilson, couldn't mind his own damn business and now look what he's driven me to. He could have just lived the fucking life I gave him but no. That wasn't good enough. He and that snooty blond had to mess everything up, and now I'll have to kill all three. Just perfect."
And with those final words she departed from the room and the house.
It was a full minute before any of them could breathe easy again, but eventually Wilson did relax against House's hold, which still hadn't loosened.
"So, I'm thinking it's time to go," Amber finally said, crawling out from her hiding spot. "Did anyone find anything?"
House shook his head, but Wilson held up the copy of Tweak The Past For A Better Tomorrow. "There's a reversal in here," he answered.
"Oh, thank God," House muttered. "I think Mrs. Cuddy may have lost her mind, just a little."
"Let's look at it from the safety of the car," Amber declared, leading the way to the door. And right before Wilson followed both his cohorts out of the "secret potion lab" he stole a glace at which book Arlene had been searching through.
He decided not to tell Amber or House that it was Summoning Beasts.
~~
A half hour later found the three sitting at a corner table in tiny cafe, the large brown book laid out in front of them, opened to the reversal page.
"I don't understand," Amber stated. "What does it mean?"
Wilson frowned and read it again:
"'Negating a Reality Altering potion can be done two ways. The most effective method is, of course, having the original potion-drinker drink the Reality Altering potion once again. That will immediately set the original course of time back on track. Unfortunately, it must be from the same batch, so this isn't always a feasible solution.' No shit, Sherlock," he added.
"Save the commentary for when we're out of this," House instructed, giving Wilson a small, affectionate grin.
"Sorry. Anyway, 'The second option is somewhat harder to accomplish, though there are no strict conditions. It's been said that triumphing a great ... hardship can be enough positive and negative energy to set the world back, when it's been tampered with through magic.'"
Amber frowned. "Still don't understand."
"Well, option one is out," House said, pursing his lips in thought. "I can't imagine that Arlene's been saving the potion she made Wilson drink as a souvenir. But what counts as a hardship? Clinic duty? Adhering to consent forms?"
"I'm guessing not," Wilson answered him. When House frowned darkly, he chuckled. "Sorry, but hardships for House usually don't align with hardships for the world."
There was a moment of silence as all three contemplated their options. Then House got to his feet.
"Well," he said, "I guess this means that we gotta go see Cuddy. Lisa Cuddy."