MVA
House was going to be late for work. He'd overslept that morning and despite several prods from Wilson he was reluctant to get up. The weather had been awful over the last fortnight with the worst rainstorms Princeton had seen for years. Wet weather played havoc with his leg and he'd suffered through several painful days and restless nights. Yet today, the sun was shining, his leg wasn't too bad, he'd had great sex and he'd just wanted to go back to sleep. In the end, Wilson had sighed, shrugged and left with the words "See you at lunch?" House grunted assent and went back to sleep.
Now he was definitely late. The traffic was heavy so he'd decided to take the scenic, less congested route to work. That was his excuse anyway. In fact, once he'd got out on his bike, the fresh air and sunshine buoyed him up and he was reluctant to hurry to work just for clinic duty.
House wound his way north on Route 27 looking out over the lake. The banks were flooded in places and he glimpsed the clean-up operation as he sped past. The journey took him north of the dam and through the country park where the road rose slowly upward and the embankment fell away on his right. He found himself gazing out at the scenery with a smile on his face, feeling relaxed and content.
Which is why he didn't immediately realise the significance of the low, rumbling vibration that rattled his bike and why, when the car in front of him slid to the right with no warning, he was unable to react and had to slide with it.
"Oh, shit", he remarked as he felt himself slipping off the road in a crush of earth and metal as a one hundred yard stretch of road collapsed down the rain sodden embankment, taking assorted vehicles with it.
Cuddy's heels clipped along the corridor past the conference room and into House's office where she found three white coated figures huddled in front of House's old TV screen.
"Where is he?" she sighed.
"Don't know. Haven't seen him today", Cameron replied, her eyes not leaving the TV. "Have you seen this?" she continued. "There's been a landslide up near Kingston."
"Yes, I know, that's why I'm here." Cuddy replied patiently. "You don't have any patients at the moment and we're going to need all hands in the ER when the casualties start to arrive."
"Okay," Foreman straightened up, "we're on our way."
Cuddy was already heading down the corridor towards Wilson's office. If Wilson wasn't in either, there would be hell to pay. Wilson was supposed to be a good influence on House; she didn't want House dragging down her best department head.
She rapped once on the door and poked her head in. Thankfully Wilson was there, up to his elbows in paperwork as usual.
"Where is he?" she raised her eyebrows. Wilson had the decency to lower his eyes before speaking.
"I had an early meeting and he ...um... overslept. I didn't wait for him, but he should be here by now."
Cuddy sighed, "Well when you see him, tell him to get his ass down to the ER, we've got a major incident and he hasn't got any patients at the moment."
As soon as Cuddy's heels had disappeared down the corridor, Wilson lifted his phone and dialled home. After five rings the answer phone clicked in and he said "House, if you're still there, you're in trouble. There's been a major incident and you're supposed to be helping in the ER. You'd better get your butt in here quick." He paused, half expecting House to pick-up. "Bye then", he finished on a sigh. Perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned the ER; if House was still at home he was unlikely to come in at all today.
Awareness seeped in slowly. First the smell of hot rubber, mud and oil. Then the sounds of popping metal, hissing steam, murmurings and whimpers. Feeling rushed back suddenly. Agonising pain in his right leg, something sharp poking into his back, a numbness in his left arm. He opened his eyes to be dazzled by the sun shining through his visor. He reached up slowly and dragged his helmet off. The effort left him panting and he rested his head back down on the ground to gather his thoughts.
After a few minutes House decided things weren't really going to get any better if he just lay there. He rolled slowly over to his right and started propping himself up on his elbow. His left arm felt heavy and there was a dull pain radiating down from his shoulder and up his neck. He sat up and tentatively felt along the limb with his right hand. Crap. Broken collar bone. He winced as he rested his left arm across his lap. His eyes wandered down to his leg which he had chosen to ignore up to that point. He really didn't want to know what he'd done this time. But the pool of blood gradually spreading under his knee demanded some attention. There was an evil looking gash down the outside of his leg from just above his knee round to his calf. Blood was pulsing steadily and as he gently probed the edges of the wound he could see white bone glistening through. No jagged edges though. He swallowed back the nausea and shrugged his backpack off his shoulders. He rummaged around to find his shirt. Taking a deep breath, he wadded up the clean blue shirt and wrapped it tightly round his leg, tying the arms as tightly as he could to stem the bleeding. Heart thumping painfully, he leant back on his right elbow and took a few deep steadying breaths.
As House lay there resting, he became aware of his surroundings. He could just see the back wheel of his bike, crushed under the body of the Volvo he'd been following. Damn. He'd loved that bike. He glanced up at the embankment above him which was still shifting slightly. He could just glimpse the jagged roadway sticking out into space, the remains in broken chunks around him at the bottom of the gully. Water trickled down in rivulets, bringing mud and gravel down with it.
There were two or maybe three other cars close by and House could see someone moving clumsily around the nearest.
"Hey!" House shouted. A dazed looking teenager looked up and then stumbled towards him.
"Can you help?" the kid cried urgently, "My – my girlfriend is still in the car, I can't get her out!"
"Is she conscious?" House demanded.
"No, I don't think so. She's not moving."
"Can you reach her? Check if she's breathing?"
"Dunno – I, dunno what to do!"
"Hey. Hey, kid! Calm down. What's your name?"
"Mike," he replied "I borrowed Mom's car to take my girlfriend away for the weekend. She's going kill me," he said distractedly.
House glanced up the embankment; he couldn't see any movement there yet. Where the hell were the emergency services? He took another deep breath as a wave of pain radiated up from his leg.
"Look, Mike. I'm a doctor; you need to check your girlfriend is breathing. I can't move. You've gotta go back to her and try to wake her up." Mike nodded and started off as House called after him, "Try not to move her but see if you can see her breathing."
The sun was getting hotter; House carefully peeled off his leather jacket and bundled it up behind him with his backpack. As he slowly leant back he thought back to that morning, how happy he'd been with Wilson.
Wilson.
With a pang he wondered what Wilson was doing now.
The ER was buzzing. Non urgent cases had been sent home and minor cases were being dealt with in the clinic. Cubicles had been set up with extra supplies. Doctors and nurses were standing ready for when the first cases arrived.
Initial reports said that over twenty vehicles had been involved in the disaster, although casualty numbers couldn't be confirmed as access was impossible at this stage. Police helicopters were being brought in to assess the situation and all off-duty paramedics were being called in to assist.
Emergency services were attempting to stabilise the landslip before sending paramedics in to deal with the victims.
While the three diagnostic fellows were kept busy with a steady stream of casualties, Wilson wandered the hospital looking in House's usual hiding spots. House wasn't answering his cell and he'd left his pager on his desk the previous night, so that was no good. After some time, Wilson came to the conclusion that House wasn't in the hospital. A chill passed through his body and a lump seemed to settle in his chest. If House wasn't here, and he wasn't at home, then – he must be on his way in. But, the journey was only fifteen minutes on his bike.
Of course, the accident would have caused gridlock on neighbouring roads so he was probably just stuck in the traffic. Then, why hadn't he called? Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and went to look for Cuddy. Maybe he'd called Cuddy but she was too busy to pass on a message…
Cries from nearby brought House's mind back to the present. He really wasn't up to this he thought as he dragged himself back up to a sitting position.
"Hey Mike!" he yelled, "need a hand here!" Mike was sitting with his girlfriend over by their car. She had regained consciousness and Mike had helped her out of the car. The teenager helped her to her feet and they staggered together over to where House was sitting. She collapsed to the ground and Mike sat down next to her panting with the effort.
"You shouldn't have moved her you know," House mentioned, "although it looks like you got away with it this time." House briefly felt her pulse and looked into her eyes. "What's your name? " No reply. The girl was dazed and her focus was wandering.
"It's Marcie" replied Mike hesitantly. "Is she gonna be okay?"
House considered for a moment. "Looks like you'll both live. Until you own up to borrowing the car that is," he muttered.
"Look Mike, there are other people hurt. It doesn't look like help is coming right away. We need to check it out." House paused to take a few deep breaths. He was going to regret this.
"Help me up." House struggled to get his good leg under him.
"But…but you're hurt!" Mike exclaimed.
"Oh, it's just a scratch" House muttered and he reached out to Mike who helped pull him to his feet. Well, foot actually, as he couldn't put his right foot to the ground. Leaning heavily on Mike, they hop-stepped towards the Volvo. Mike parked House up against the rear door while he went round to the driver's side. House leant down to look in the back and saw two scared and tearful children looking back at him.
"Hi kids!" he said cheerfully, "Well, this is a bit of an adventure isn't it?" He grasped the door handle and tugged it. It wouldn't budge. "Okay, kids. Are you hurt?" They looked back at him in shock, not replying. They were still both strapped into their car-seats and there were no external injuries he could see. He heard Mike gasp and make a retching sound. That didn't sound good.
"Mike! Help me get the kids out," he called. Mike appeared looking pale and shaky.
"I think she must be dead," he whispered. "Her face is all smashed up." House nodded briefly and gestured to the back seat.
"I think the kids are okay. Can you get them out in their car-seats?" he said as he hopped towards the front of the car. He leant through the passenger window and grimaced as he took in the sight. The air-bag had obviously not deployed and the woman's face had been smashed against the steering wheel. He stretched forward with his right arm, hissing in pain as it put pressure on his bad leg. He pressed his fingers against her neck and felt a slow and thready pulse.
"She's alive!" he called urgently. He took another look at her face. "She needs an airway…"
As the day wore on, patients were arriving with more serious injuries. The paramedics were obviously working towards the centre of the disaster. Chase and Foreman were busy stabilising patients before they went up to the OR. Cameron was busy stitching and patching. More and more people were turning up at the ER to inquire about friends and relations and it was getting difficult to maintain control.
Although Wilson was trying to work, he found himself drawn to the ER, scanning faces as they were brought in. He hadn't heard from House, and neither had Cuddy. He didn't know whether to be angry or worried. One part of him was convinced that House was still in bed at home, ignorant of the disaster; another part was wildly panicking that he had been involved in the crash. As it got towards lunch time without a word, Wilson was a bundle of nerves and even Cuddy was feeling sorry for him.
At midday, Cuddy took a break and gently led Wilson up to House's office for a sandwich. The TV was still on showing the latest aerial pictures. They both leaned towards it in shock as the TV cameras zoomed in on the epicentre of the disaster.
"My God! I can't believe we're still getting survivors from that." Cuddy said without thinking. Wilson sat down suddenly beside her and dropped his head into his hands.
"Why hasn't he called?" he whispered, with a tremor in his voice. Cuddy couldn't think what to say. Her eyes quickly focussed on the words scrolling across the bottom of the screen.
"Rescue teams still unable to reach all the victims…doctor involved in crash providing first aid…" she read out. Wilson's head snapped up.
"What..? Is it…." He looked at Cuddy desperately.
"Come on," she said determinedly, "let's find out what's happening."
They hurried down to the ER and Cuddy spoke to the dispatcher.
"This is PPTH. Put me through to the on-site medic in charge please." The line crackled and a scratchy voice came through.
"Hello, kinda busy here, what do you need?"
"I need to know who you've got working with the casualties, I think he's one of ours…"
Static again, then a few moments later, "House, Greg House." Wilson's breath left him in a rush, he clutched the counter as though it was the only thing holding him up. Cuddy threw him a concerned look but her attention was drawn back to the radio.
"There are seven people we can't get at yet…the rubble needs stabilising. One dead, four injured. Can't tell you much more at the moment. We've sent down some emergency gear."
"Is House okay?" Cuddy asked.
"Looks like he's injured his leg. He's managing to treat some casualties though, seems to be okay."
"How long before you get them out?"
"Within the hour I'd say."
"Thank you … Thank you. Good luck." Cuddy put the radio down with shaking hands and drew a deep breath. Wilson had collapsed into the nearest chair; he looked dazed but relieved. He managed to give Cuddy a half-grin.
"Looks like he broke another cane then." A pause then, "I'm gonna kill him when he gets back!" Cuddy gave him a broad smile and went back to work.
House was flagging, his leg was throbbing mercilessly, and he was feeling weak and shaky letting him know that he was going into shock. The emergency services had arrived just in time but they weren't able to get anyone down safely to help. Once they'd established that House was a doctor, they'd lowered medical supplies down on a rope.
Mom in the car was barely breathing, House had stumbled round to her side of the car and gotten the door open. He braced himself painfully against the seat and held her head steady while Mike fumbled around in the medic-kit for a scalpel. House deftly performed a tracheotomy and inserted a breathing tube. He attached a bag and showed Mike how to pump steady breaths into the woman. As Mike took over, House slid down to the ground clutching his leg. The wound had opened again and blood was dribbling down into his shoe. House grabbed a handful of dressings from the kit and pressed them on top of the now soaked shirt. He clumsily wrapped a bandage around to hold the dressings in place, his left arm protesting at the movements.
He wanted to lie down and go to sleep. He'd had enough of this – he should have followed his instincts and stayed in bed that morning.
The kids were still in the car. House grabbed the door handle nearest him and tugged hard. With the screeching of metal the door opened a little. Another pull and it swung wide catching House by surprise. He crawled to the up to the back seats and looked at the children huddled there in shock.
"It's okay, you'll soon be out of here," House grimaced. They didn't seem to be in imminent danger so he left them after a quick check on Mom. "You're doing good Mike. Keep it up. I'm going check on that car there," he indicated with a nod of his head.
A silver sedan was lying on its side a few feet away. House could see the driver hanging precariously from his seat-belt. He took a deep breath and launched himself towards the car in a series of hops and stumbles. His right leg wouldn't hold his weight but he could use it to help him balance. There was no way House could reach up to the door to get at the man inside, but the wind-screen was crazed and crumbling. He searched the ground nearby until his eyes found a medium sized rock within reach. He leant down with a grunt and grabbed the rock. In one swift move he threw it at the wind screen which shattered and fell to the floor in thousands of pieces.
The driver inside was moaning and feebly trying to undo his belt. House leant in as best he could. "I'm a doctor. Don't move for a minute until I've checked you out. Can you hear me? What's your name?"
The man opened his eyes and looked at House. "David. David Williams. I think I'm okay. Just need to get out of here." As he said this he managed to reach the belt release and suddenly dropped from his seat to the floor with a yell.
"Okay?" House panted. David was looking at him breathing heavily, and holding his elbow.
"Uh, maybe that wasn't such a good plan," he hissed between gritted teeth. He crawled out towards House and they sat there together, both exhausted. Eventually House turned towards him and reached out to feel David's arm.
"Only an idiot survives a car wreck just to break his arm getting out," House managed to raise his eyebrows as David flinched under his probing. "Yep. As I thought. You're an idiot."
House carefully laid David's arm across his body and buttoned it inside the man's shirt. "Try not to move it too much." He said wearily.
"Uh…uh..." Mike called. "Marcie's not looking so good…"
House turned back round to see Marcie emptying her stomach noisily then collapsing onto the ground with a sigh.
By three o'clock, Wilson was pacing the ER nervously. The paramedics said the last batch were on their way in now, ETA 10 minutes. The ER was mostly clear; two people waiting on radiology and three more still be sutured. Chase and Foreman were on a break, but Cameron was standing to one side watching Wilson pacing.
The peace was broken by a gurney being rushed in. Paramedics were reeling off stats as Wilson peered past them anxiously. "… 35 year old female; severe facial injuries, trached on site, good breath sounds…" Wilson tuned them out and looked for the next arrival. Two small children were carried in next and Cameron moved forward to help. Wilson couldn't take any more of this. He walked quickly out to the ambulance bay as another vehicle pulled up. He pulled the doors open as the paramedic jumped down and the ER staff moved in to help. They were unloading a gurney as Wilson peered in to see the other occupants.
"House…?"
A youth looked up. It wasn't House.
"Yeah, we've got him here," shouted the paramedic as he started to wheel the gurney towards the entrance. Wilson gasped in shock and bolted after them.
"What happened? I thought he was okay … he always limps …" Wilson finished lamely. House appeared to be unconscious, he had an oxygen mask over his face and one paramedic was holding an IV high and squeezing it. He was covered by a red blanket and strapped tightly in.
"He's got a nasty gash to his leg, looks like he's been slowly bleeding out all day," the first medic turned to Wilson, not stopping. "We've been filling him full of fluids but he needs blood – now."
They had arrived at the first cubicle and the trauma team leapt into action.
"On my count …" House was dragged unceremoniously across to the table where his clothing was quickly cut away. Wilson, who had moved silently to House's side gasped at the sight of his leg. The shirt was unrecognisable amongst the bloody dressings and as his jeans were cut away, the gash started pulsing again. A nurse quickly pressed a clean dressing down over the wound and held it there hard.
The controlled chaos surged on around Wilson but he was oblivious to it all. He found a space near House's side and clung on to his hand as if it were a lifeline. The nursing staff worked around him, efficiently setting up monitors and putting in lines. Soon blood had arrived and there was the comforting beep of a heartbeat. Wilson took his proper deep breath in what seemed like hours and closed his eyes in a silent prayer.
"Doctor Wilson … James." It was Cuddy. He felt her hand on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.
"Why does he do these things? Why does it always have to be him?" he asked plaintively.
Cuddy smiled back at him. "He's House. He likes to stand out from the crowd."
"He's stable now, they're ready to take him to radiology and then up to surgery." Wilson looked enquiringly at Cuddy. She explained, "You'll have to let go of his hand you know."
Wilson glanced down at his white knuckles and reluctantly let go as if it caused him physical pain.
"He'll be okay, he's tough. Go up to the observation room on OR 3 and I'll bring you a coffee." Wilson nodded gratefully and leant over House just before he was wheeled away.
"I love you, you know", he whispered, and pressed a small kiss onto House's forehead.
The steady beat of the heart monitor was soothing and restful. Wilson knew from experience that it could easily lull a person to sleep. He sat up a bit straighter. He wanted to see House as soon as he woke, which should be any time now as he glanced at the clock on the wall. House was sleeping peacefully, his face smooth and relaxed. His left arm was strapped across his chest and his right leg was elevated on a stack of pillows under the thin blanket. Wilson had already peeked at the damage and grimaced when he thought how pissed off House was going to be when he saw it.
Wilson settled back in his chair and reached for the stack of charts he'd neglected during the day.
About half-way through the stack he noticed the monitor's rhythm increase slightly followed by a deep, purposeful breath from the bed. Wilson dropped his files on the floor and stood at the bedside looking down with a grin on his face.
"Wakey, wakey," Wilson said loudly.
A slight grimace passed over House's face but he opened his gummy eyes and Wilson could see him trying to focus his eyes.
"How bad?" croaked House in a rusty voice. Wilson poured a cup of water and raised the head of the bed slightly so that House could take a drink.
"It's … serious," Wilson replied eventually, a look of concern on his face.
House groaned and shut his eyes again. Wilson continued in a voice filled with sympathy.
"There's been some damage," he paused dramatically, a grin creeping across his face, "to your reputation."
House blinked slowly and then frowned, confused. Wilson turned and picked up the local paper from the bedside unit.
"DOC'S DARING DEEDS" screamed the headline over a small picture of House obviously taken on a long lens. Wilson grinned as House cringed in horror.
"Doctor Greg House, world famous diagnostician from our own teaching hospital," Wilson started in his best reporting voice, "saved the life of a young mother and rallied other victims of today's tragic landslide, bravely ignoring his own injuries -"
"Shut up!" House rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes and groaned in disgust.
"You're in great demand you know, nurses queuing to get your autograph," Wilson dropped the paper casually onto the bed. House picked it up and threw it over the side of the bed. The effort was obviously more than his body could cope with at the moment though, as Wilson saw his face pale and his breathing hitch.
"Relax," he said soothingly, feeling momentarily sorry for the teasing. He reached in towards House's hand and pressed the PCA button for him. "Three days in here and you'll have all those nurses terrorized again." House's face started to smooth out again as the analgesic kicked in and his eyes slid closed.
Wilson leaned over to give him a gentle kiss. "But you'll always be my hero," he whispered.
The End.