Wilson had been trying to track House down all morning, and he'd finally gone to ask Cuddy if she'd seen him and here he was, in her office. He was doing something or other with her desk. Typical, they'd argued last night about the attention he paid to Cuddy and just to be an ass he was redoubling his efforts in that direction.

They hadn't been sleeping together long, and they hadn't made their relationship, let alone their sexuality, public yet. So Cuddy didn't know House was spoken for and she kept flirting back at him. Last night Wilson had demanded that he cease and desist.

This, apparently, was House's response - how reassuring.

"House, we need to talk."

House looked up from Cuddy's desk and then went on fiddling with the desk and totally ignoring him.

"House."

"Wilson."

"We need to talk about this."

"No, you need to talk about this. I need to get this done before the evil administrator comes back and turns me into stone."

"Get what done? House, what are you doing with her desk? See this is exactly what I was saying last night. Here we are..."

"Doing the horizontal mambo? Fucking like rabbits?"

"In a relationship, and yet here you are dipping Cuddy's pigtails in the inkwell."

"No, I'm fixing her desk so that when she opens the drawer all her stuff will fall out on the floor. Only you could read some Freudian interpretation into it. Sometimes Wilson, a desk is just a desk."

"You need to ask yourself, why you are doing this."

"Because she made me do twice as many clinic hours last month to make up for some ridiculous piece of trivia that I forgot about."

"The yearly Departmental budget House! And that's not why you are doing this!"

House was about to retort, no doubt with something ridiculous, when there was a polite little rap on the glass door. Wilson's first thought was that it would be Cuddy, which would be entertaining if nothing else. He looked forward to seeing House verbally shredded.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Dr. Cuddy."

The guy asking looked very unwell, thin and pale. Wilson wondered if he had come in from the clinic, with some complaint or other. Unlikely as House wasn't working there at the moment.

House waved his hand at Wilson.

"This is Doctor Cuddy."

Wilson sighed. Why couldn't House give anyone a straight answer? Why did everything have to be a game?

"Doctor Cuddy isn't here at the moment. If you go outside and see her secretary she should be able to tell you where she is," he told the guy.

The guy looked uncertain but left the office.

Wilson turned to House, hands on his hips.

"You've always got to screw with people don't you House? What was the point of that?"

"Gosh dear, you're just no fun since we started screwing, you don't take me places, you won't let me do anything fun. I'm feeling all smothered."

Wilson was about to tell House that maybe he should be smothered, preferably with a pillow when the door opened again and a crowd of people came in, some nurses, a few sick looking people and that guy again. Wilson felt himself tense up, adrenalin flowing. He told himself he'd been watching too many crime shows.

Then the guy produced a gun.

"I'm sick, and I want to know why. I want the best doctor in this hospital here, now Or I'm gonna start killing people."

Wilson looked at House, the best doctor in the hospital, and possibly the last doctor you wanted in a hostage situation. The last doctor Wilson wanted anywhere near a gun.

House stared back at him and then back at the guy with the gun. He spoke calmly but Wilson could tell he was nervous.

"What seems to be the problem?"


The guy with the gun started directing his hostages to barricade a door. It was the door to the bathroom, of course House had to point this out to him. Not surprisingly the guy didn't appreciate the advice. He thrust a thick medical file at House and told him to read it. Then he took House's cane away.

Wilson knew how sensitive House was about his cane, he hated people to notice it, and he hated to be without it. He had a love/hate relationship with that cane. He looked at House, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay. House just looked back at him puzzled and shrugged in confusion. So much for mind-reading skills between soulmates, apparently he and House didn't have that ability.

House skimmed through the file. Wilson had seen this many times, House could absorb medical details from a file quicker than anyone he knew. He looked like he was barely paying attention but could tell you test results down to the last decimal after a brief glance.

He performed a rudimentary diagnostic test on the guy - whose name was Jason it turned out - with a lighter, and then tossed off his first diagnosis. Wilson privately had his doubts that it was that easy, the guy had seen other doctors after all, but he kept quiet.

When House asked for Propofol Wilson felt a surge of worry mixed with hope. If he injected Jason with that the guy would be out like a light and this would be over. But if Jason realised what was happening...well things wouldn't be good for House.

Jason, naturally, insisted on someone else taking the drug first. Wilson's first instinct was to volunteer, but then he'd be unconscious and no-one would be there to keep an eye on House. So he kept quiet while House picked out the biggest guy there. Wilson applauded the reasoning but of course it didn't work. The big guy collapsed before House could inject Jason.

When Jason held the gun right in House's face Wilson felt pure fear. Logically Jason would not shoot House, he still needed him, but right at that moment Jason's finger was trembling on the trigger. Even House looked frightened. Wilson hadn't been there when House was shot several years ago but Cameron had described it to him once. Two shots, one in the abdomen, one aimed at his head. House had been lucky to survive that once, twice would be asking too much.

When Jason pointed the gun away from House and towards another hostage Wilson felt a brief moment of relief, then of guilt as the bullet tore into the man's flesh.

Instinctively he looked at House who stared straight back at him.

Things had suddenly gotten very serious.

Wilson went over to help the guy who'd been shot, Mitch. With the other guy still out cold from the sedative the place was beginning to look more like an emergency room than Cuddy's office. Cuddy was going to be furious about the blood on her wall. He did a quick assessment of Mitch, then looked up at House who was still facing off with Jason, he wanted to get him away from the guy, get the focus off him before House pushed Jason's buttons some more and got himself killed.

"House, wouldn't you like to come and help?"

Of course House just looked at him blankly and said no.

He supposed it was inevitable that House would call up his team for help trying to diagnose Jason. House always worked best with an audience, and this situation guaranteed him a captive audience so to speak.

When Jason broke off a phone conversation to order one of the female hostages to crack open the blind on the big window behind Cuddy's desk she was sick all over the floor. Wilson stepped in.

"Leave her alone, I'll get the blind."

When he opened the blind he saw the SWAT team members out in the garden. Jason pointed the gun straight at him and yelled towards them.

"Get back! Get back! I will kill him unless you back the hell out of there now!"

Wilson swallowed hard and stood stock still but then the SWAT team backed off, the blind was closed again and the threat had passed for the moment.

House of course used that for a diagnostic epiphany. Wilson was used to being feeding material for the genius at work and usually enjoyed the little epiphanies he provoked, he found it hard to appreciate this one.

When House announced that the guy had hyperacusis, super hearing, Wilson nodded his head slowly.

"Amped-up hearing could be linked to nerve palsy."

They both stared at Jason while House got him to puff up his cheeks and smile, there was distinct left side facial weakness there. House came up with a diagnosis of post-herpetic neuralgia.

The test would involve an injection of Capsaicin, which would be both dangerous and painful if Jason didn't have post-herpetic neuralgia. Wilson wondered if House had thought through the consequences of this diagnosis. Jason would want someone to take the medicine first, and as it was highly unlikely that any of the other hostages would have post-herpetic neuralgia that person would be in danger.

Wilson had always wondered if he would have the strength to put himself in danger to save others.

He found out he did.


Wilson lowered his pants a bit and bent over the desk so that House could inject him with the Capsaicin. House seemed almost angry with him.

"If you wanted me to admire your ass you didn't have to agree to this, I would have done it for free."

Wilson looked around to see if Jason was listening. Didn't House realise it would not be a good thing if Jason realised they were lovers? It would be that much easier to threaten him to get House to co-operate.

"You didn't need to do this, should have kept your mouth shut. You always got to be trying to help people." House muttered.

"They're patients, I'm a doctor."

"She's just a nurse." House was obviously talking about Regina, great, that would win him some more friends on the nursing staff.

"Shut up House and give me the dose. You've always said that you wished I could feel some of your pain just for a few minutes, now's your chance."

House seemed to ram the dose home with more force than necessary.

"I don't want you to be in pain you moron."

Wilson gasped as the pain started, doubling over. He'd never felt pain like this in his life. Nerve pain that seemed to spread through his whole body. Was this what House felt? He felt the brief touch of House's hand on his back and then it was gone.

"Luckily for me it looks like you don't have herpes."

Regina came over and tried to help him but there was nothing anyone could do for him, the pain was from inside his own body and nothing would stop it. Through a haze of agony Wilson heard Jason start moaning. He didn't have herpes either. It was small comfort to him to know that Jason was experiencing the same agony he was.

Regina helped him to a sitting position against the wall as the waves of pain started to subside. House came over to him while he was waiting for the fellows to report in. He fished out one of the ever present vials of Vicodin and offered him one.

Wilson was touched that House would part with one of his precious tablets but shook his head.

"Wouldn't want you to run out."

He hated the Vicodin, he hated it for the grip it had on House. He knew it was irrational but he didn't want anything to do with it. House looked almost relieved as he replaced the pills in his pocket. If House ran out while this was going on they would all be in trouble.

His teams, old and new, reported in and they bounced ideas around. To distract himself from his pain Wilson followed along, his own brain ticking over symptoms and diagnoses. Things clicked together and he had his own diagnosis to present. He spoke up, taken aback by how weak his voice sounded.

"It's his heart."

"Thought you would say it was cancer."

Just because he was an oncologist didn't mean that all his ideas were limited to cancer.

Wilson struggled to stand up, leaning heavily on the arm of the chair.

"His neck, he has a distended jugular."

House limped over to Jason to check his pulse. Understandably Jason shied away, House reassured him by telling Jason he planned to strangle him. Did House have to keep poking at the guy with the gun to provoke him?

"He needs to check your pulse." Wilson said in his best reassuring tone.

House scowled at him, and then felt for Jason's pulse.

"It's racing. 160."

"We need to get paddles." Wilson said.

House tried carotid massage instead, of course that started off another round of House versus Jason, with House insisting that they didn't need paddles and Jason insisting that they did. Some of the other hostages suggested just letting Jason die. Wilson had a lot of sympathy for that point of view at the moment.

To try and keep the peace he suggested cardiodiverting course House argued with that because just at the moment he seemed to be inclined to argue about anything.

Jason pointed at Wilson.

"You go and get the drugs. You have thirty seconds and then I start shooting people."

A few seconds ago Wilson would have sworn that he wouldn't be able to manage anything above a gentle amble. Now, with adrenalin flowing through him, he dashed out of Cuddy's office to the clinic in record time. Thirty seconds. He had thirty seconds. Thirty seconds before Jason killed someone, maybe House.

He fumbled with the locked drawer, grabbed the medicine and a syringe, turned around and saw the SWAT team beckoning him. He could go to them, he'd be safe. Jason would shoot someone, maybe House.

He turned away from the SWAT team, and safety and ran back to Cuddy's office, hurtling through the door and straight into a tense standoff between Jason, the nurse Regina and the kid. House was watching with wide eyes.

He held out the drugs.

"I've got it."

"Idiot, you should have kept going." House was looking at him, annoyance in his expression.

Wilson shrugged.

"And miss your moment of triumph?"

House took the drugs over to Jason but he waved the gun at Wilson.

"He takes it first."

House turned to him, expression stricken.

"He can't, his heart isn't beating too fast. If he takes this..."

"House, it's okay. I'll take it."

Wilson wrapped a tourniquet around his arm, and before House could come up with another plan he plunged the Adenosine into his veins. Almost immediately he was overtaken by enervating weakness and he fell to the ground. He didn't lost consciousness but he was powerless to move.

House knelt beside him, gently feeling for his pulse. He tried to turn a reassuring smile on House but couldn't tell if he succeeded. House gave his hand a quick squeeze as he released it and stood up.

Wilson could hear him in the background, but couldn't turn his head enough to see.

"Okay, his heart is dangerously slow, are we good to go now?"

Wilson watched, feeling detached from the situation, as House injected Jason, pronounced his heart defect free (so much for that diagnosis) and then deduced he had lung cancer from the fact that he was sweating on one side of his face and not the other.

Wilson was lifted by some of the hostages and placed on Cuddy's couch. Regina stayed with him, monitoring his pulse and respiration.

"His pulse is below 50." Regina said, presumably to House.

"Get the martyr up and walking, that will get his heart beating faster, show him a bit of skin, that will really get his heart going."

Wilson heard Regina mutter at House's crude words but he recognised the anxiety behind them and smiled what he was sure was a goofy smile, House really did care.

'The kid' as Wilson had mentally dubbed the young man trapped with them and Regina got him up and walking. It was the last thing he wanted to do and he knew he was lurching like a drunkard but he felt a bit more alive as his heart started beating a little faster. House was right, as always.

House and Jason were still debating House's diagnosis and he tried to focus. Cancer, Jason had cancer, he could help with that.

"Lung cancer, usually lower than...seventh...nerve. Check his throat..." His voice came out weak, thready sounding but House looked up and met his eyes and nodded.

House got Jason to try to spit on the floor. Nothing came out, dry mouth. Parotid glands not working. Wilson added that to his mental whiteboard.

"Is there swelling...Pancoast tumor..." He put in, struggling to get the words out.

House went over to Jason, putting his hand under his jaw, found the lump and showed it to Jason. Of course Jason wanted proof.

"How many hostages for a trip to radiology?" Jason asked.

"Release Wilson, he needs some proper attention, more than Florence Nightingale here can give him."

Wilson was surprised at House's suggestion, he didn't want to leave here with House anyway.

"No, he stays. He gets everything I get."

Wilson just hoped that if it came to Jason needing an operation he would be spared that.


Two of the female hostages were released, Wilson watched them go with relief, at least that was two more people not in danger. Jason's plan apparently was that everyone left tied themselves in a big circle around him, thus ensuring that if the SWAT team shot anyone it would be the innocent hostages. As he tied himself next to House Wilson wondered how they were going to manage, House could only manage a few steps without his cane on a good day and he himself was barely on his feet. The SWAT team might fall asleep from boredom watching them make their slow way through the hospital.

Wilson lent up against House during their slow and awkward shuffle up to radiology. House leaned back against him, which threw Wilson off balance and he stumbled.

"Are you okay?" House asked.

"No, my heart is barely beating and I'm tied to a group of people and being held hostage at gunpoint. Just diagnose him already so we can get out of here." Wilson had had enough, although he knew he shouldn't take it out on House. The good thing about House though was that he preferred people to talk to him like that. Sure enough he caught a smile on the man's face before he turned away


In the radiology room Jason locked the door and untied them. Wilson was relieved to get out of the hot sweaty bundle of people but felt unsteady on his feet without any support.

House went into the booth to get the equipment. Jason got up onto the CT bed, still clutching the gun and threatening to shoot anyone who moved..

As Wilson started the CT going he looked at House.

"But it's not going to..."

"Be any fun without being chained together anymore? Quite correct, but we can always do that at home anytime we want." House gave an exaggerated wink and leer. Wilson sighed, he knew what was going to happen and he was sure that House did too, but it was usually best to go along with House's little games so he kept his mouth shut.

House was looking at the monitor and signalled for Wilson to bring Jason out of the machine.

While Wilson was doing that House scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to one of the hostages. Then he showed the monitor to Jason and Wilson.

"What's this Wilson?"

"Starburst." Wilson answered promptly, a small smile on his face, now he knew what House had been doing and he had a pretty good idea of why.

The hostage showed what House had written, 'starburst' of course, even a first year medical student would know the affect of taking a gun into a CT machine.

"You need to give me the gun. Or shoot me. Whichever." Wilson stared at House when he said 'shoot me'. He had seen the shots in his imagination hundreds of time since House was shot in his office. He closed his eyes.

Jason wavered.

"You want to find out what's wrong with you don't you? Give me the gun and I'll get you your answer."

Wilson opened his eyes again.

House held out his hand and slowly Jason handed over the gun.

House put it down out of reach and gestured Jason to get back onto the CT bed.

Wilson let out the breath he'd been holding and watched as the other hostages ran out of the room. He wanted to grab House and hustle him out the door, far away from guns and crazed gunmen. Instead, he went back to the controls of the CT scanner.

They ran the scan again, this time without the starburst effect screwing it up.

When he looked at House he could tell straight away, no tumour. House didn't know what Jason had, his diagnosis had been wrong...again.

Jason hopped off the table.

"Thanks for trying anyway."

Wilson swayed on his feet, holding onto the machine for balance. House was going to give Jason his gun back. He knew how obsessive House could be looking for answers to a diagnostic puzzle. No way would he let this go.

House held the gun in his hand, loosely, head cocked on one side, mind clearly figuring possibilities. Then he stared at Wilson. Something he saw seemed to decide him and he tightened his grip on the gun.

House yelled down the hallway.

"Need some help in here!"

Things happened quickly after that. SWAT officers rushed in, secured Jason and then cleared the way for the emergency response medical team that had obviously been lingering in the corridor. Despite his protests that he could walk Wilson was quickly whisked onto a gurney and rolled away to emergency. He lost sight of House, the last he saw of him was House arguing with one of the SWAT team.


In emergency he was quickly assessed, by Cameron of course, for maximum embarrassment,and changed into a hospital gown, then wheeled into a private room where every nurse on the floor came to help attach him to monitors and IVs.

By the time they'd all cleared out he was feeling sleepy, the heart monitor was beating out a reassuringly steady rhythm, and he was waiting anxiously for House to appear. He hoped that he hadn't been whisked away by the police, you never knew, with House.

When he finally did appear he looked tired, and he collapsed into a chair by Wilson's bedside.

"Observation and monitoring overnight and then I can go home in the morning." Wilson reported happily.

"Great, I hate hospitals."

Well so did Wilson, or at least being a patient in one. Right now he had other things he wanted to talk to House about.

"Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck, it was always hard, with House, to tell him anything sincerely.

House looked at him, apparently puzzled.

"Thanks for what? I didn't even solve the case."

Wilson smiled, House was nothing if not consistent with his approach to his cases.

"For not solving the case. For not giving Jason his gun back so you could diagnose him."

"Never crossed my mind." House swore. "Now, if Thirteen had been a hostage..."

Wilson smiled again, he suspected that if any of his team had been involved the outcome would have been exactly the same, House had a certain regard for those he worked with - at the very least he didn't like the hassle of replacing them.

"So," House said, "do we still need to talk?"

Wilson shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. Just...no more lusting after Cuddy okay?" He'd never thought that it was serious, but all the same he wanted House to stop playing silly games with her, and he wanted their own relationship to move forward. He thought it would, after this, nothing like a life or death crisis to make things clearer.

"Cross my heart. I have played my last practical joke on Cuddy." House said solemnly. "And no more weepy nurses for you either. That Regina woman was clucking all over you in there."

"Not just Regina, half the nurses on this floor have stopped by." Wilson was smug, he knew he'd never do anything about it but it was still nice to be fussed over. "I'm a hero, I nearly died."

"Bastard." House levered himself to his feet. "Just for that I'm going to go and get some nice greasy takeout, too bad you can't have any."

Wilson grimaced, hospital food wasn't top on his list of things he liked to eat. Still, it was only one night.

House lingered by his bedside, reaching out with one hand. Wilson linked their fingers and then let go, lying back on the bed.

"Take me home in the morning?"

"Yes." House said.

Wilson was glad that 'home' now meant wherever they both were. He watched House until he had disappeared out the doorway. He just hoped that House wouldn't get into too much trouble tracking Jason down and diagnosing him, one hostage drama a year was enough for Wilson.


Cuddy appeared shortly after House left, fuming about the state of her office and something to do with her desk drawer which he didn't catch.

When she stopped ranting about House long enough to catch her breath Wilson smiled at her.

"Cuddy, we need to talk."