Title: Collision
Author: Knight Wild
Rating: T... for now.
Spoilers: Season 1
Disclaimer: I do not own House people or places. They all belong to Twentieth Century Fox Studios, Katie Jacobs, Bryan Singer, David Shore, and all of the other brilliant people who created it. I make no money off this; it's strictly for enjoyment.
House: "Did you make a pass at Cuddy? I told you... she's only got thighs for me."
-Babies & Bathwater
The roads were icy; slick and treacherous.
Dr. Gregory House scowled as he glared out the windshield. It had to storm, and today of all days, he had woken up late.
He glanced at the clock. Thirty-five minutes after eight.
"I can hear Cuddy screeching now." he muttered to himself. As if in agreement, his cell phone began to ring shrilly.
Slightly distracted by the phone; he didn't have time to react when the car in front him collided when another.
Not that he would've had any time.
He slammed on his brakes anyway, trying to stop the inevitable.
But of course, it happened anyway.
There was the shriek and crunch of metal, shattering glass as the windshield imploded.
Pain... then darkness.
"Jeez, look at this guy," the paramedic had been busily untangling the victim from the car wreck. "What a mess."
The driver of the ambulance glanced back at the patient. "Yeah," he said in agreement. "We probably take him to Princeton-Plainsboro. It's the closest."
They took off, sirens screeching.
The driver called back to the other paramedic. "He got any I.D.?"
"Hold on. Lemme check."
There was a moment of silence then a vehement curse from the paramedic.
"What?" asked the startled driver.
"You not gonna believe this."
Wilson
It was just by accident that he was down in the ER. A patient of his had been brought in earlier, vomiting blood and Wilson was going down to retrieve his records.
He was talking to one of the nurses when the doors slid open quickly to admit a pair of frazzled-looking EMT's pushing a gurney, containing a patient so blood-soaked you couldn't see his face.
One of the ER docs sprinted over. "What do you got?"
"Forty-year-old male involved in a multi-car collision. Pressure's down to eighty and dropping fast. Obvious head trauma and internal bleeding. His abdomen's swelling."
They started to wheel the patient past Wilson, who happened to finally catch a full glance at the man.
His sharp, wordless cry brought silence to the ER.
Sasha Holbrook, the nurse he had been chatting with, stepped up to his side. "Dr. Wilson? Are you all right?"
He shook his head. "No-no, that... that was House!"
Sasha, confused, asked. "What about him?"
"That patient the paramedics just brought in! That was Greg!"
And without another word, he sprinted after the rapidly figures.
He caught up with the paramedics; the doctor was scrubbing up quickly for surgery.
For Greg's surgery.
He stopped the EMT's. "I'm Dr. James Wilson. That man you just brought in-"
"He's a doctor here," one the paramedics volunteered. "Gregory House. I found his information in his wallet."
Wilson closed his eyes, leaning against the wall for support. He had been praying that he had been wrong; that it had merely been someone that had resembled Greg.
The EMT reached out, caught Wilson's arm. "Hey man, are you okay?"
"He's- he's my best friend," Wilson whispered, feeling the strength threatening to leave his knees. "What happened? What's his condition?"
The two paramedics exchanged uneasy glances that caused the marrow of Wilson's bones to freeze.
Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't good.
"There was a two-car pile-up on the freeway," one of the paramedics, whose nametag said Cook gently. "Your friend tried to avoid it, but the roads were very slick. His brakes didn't react in time."
Wilson nodded. "What about-about his injuries?"
This time, Cook's partner, Palmer answered. "Like we said downstairs, Dr. Wilson. There were obvious signs of a head injury, he was unconscious at the scene. But we don't know how serious it is. There was also internal bleeding, his abdomen was swelling and rigid. But again, we don't know how bad it is. There was also a compound fracture of the ulna, quite common in car accidents when the air bag deploys. Those were the only obvious injuries."
Those were the only obvious injuries...
Wilson shuddered as he recalled the horribly bloody mess of Greg's head and face.
"Listen... Dr. Wilson? We need to get back on duty. I hope your friend makes it out okay." with those parting words, Cook and Palmer departed.
Leaving Wilson standing alone, and fighting the urge to bolt into the surgical room.
Now that he was by himself, he allowed him to sink to the floor.
Placing his head in his hands, he whispered. "Oh god... please, don't let him die."
Dr. Eric Foreman paused as he went for his second cup of coffee. "So where is House anyway? Anybody know?"
Dr. Allison Cameron frowned. "No. And it's not like him... I mean, I've never known him to be late. Even if he was going to be, I'm sure he'd call."
The third doctor, Robert Chase, shrugged. "It's House." was all he offered.
A sudden furious clicking reached their ears.
Chase hid a smile. "Cuddy."
He was proven right when the hospital administrator strode into the office; not looking at all happy.
"Where's Dr. House?" she demanded.
"Not here." Foreman responded.
"He hasn't called in, either." Cameron added.
Cuddy gave a small growl of frustration. "He owes me twenty clinic-"
"Um... Dr. Cuddy?" came a meek voice from the doorway.
All four doctors turned.
A young nurse stood there, looking quite terrified at addressing the Dean of Medicine.
"Yes?" Cuddy asked.
"Um, I have some bad news. Dr. Wilson asked me to come up here and tell you." she said softly.
The temperature seemed to fall at least ten degrees.
"What is it?"
The nurse swallowed hard. "Uh... Dr. House, he, uh, on the way to work this morning, was involved in a multi-car accident."
Cameron gasped. Cuddy's face seemed to drain of color, and both Foreman and Chase looked shocked.
"He sustained a head and internal injuries. He's down in surgery right now."
The nurse had barely finished her sentence when the group of doctors ran for the elevator.
Wilson wasn't aware of the others approaching, until he felt a hand on his shoulder and Cameron's voice saying. "Has there been any word?"
He looked up, his eyes stinging with the tears he had been forcing back.
"No."
Cuddy took a seat next to him. "What happened?"
He explained what the paramedics had told him, adding. "I was right there in the ER, and I didn't recognize him at first... he looked so bad."
Cameron shuddered.
"It didn't sound good either, from what I heard. His pressure was eighty, and dropping fast, they said. His abdomen was swelling from the internal injuries, and he was unconscious, had been from the scene."
Foreman's jaw clenched; Chase pressed his lips together, and a tear escaped from Cameron.
"How long has he been in surgery?" Cuddy managed.
"Not long. Only about thirty minutes."
One Hour Later
Cuddy
All of us sat there, in the miserable waiting room. Time seemed to go by much more slowly than usual.
Dr. Wilson wasn't quite there, staring blankly at the walls as if they held some hidden meaning. Cameron, though trying to be brave, was leaking tears intermittently. Chase and Foreman were both looking grim.
Cuddy stood up and began to pace.
Can't believe while I was yelling about the clinic hours House needed to do meanwhile he's dying on the freeway.
Something like guilt must've shown on her face, and Wilson, who apparently wasn't as out of as she thought, grabbed her arm.
"Don't." he said quietly, but firmly.
She realized, with sudden shock, that she was near tears. "I-I was screaming about his clinic hours, an-and he was-"
"Cuddy, he's going to be fine." Wilson interrupted, his tone still firm, but with an undercurrent of desperation.
It was more like he was trying to convince himself.
"You think?" she whispered, clenching his hand so tightly her knuckled turned white and bloodless.
Wilson's brown eyes closed for a moment. "He has to."
He has to
It seemed to be like a prayer.
She only hoped that it would work.