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“Are you insane?” Wilson demanded again, running up to House. His brown eyes were wide with unshed tears and pure, unfiltered relief . Despite his angry words, he wasn’t mad. Not anymore. He was too relieved to see House whole to be mad. The past day had been the worst Wilson had ever experienced; he was terrified and helpless as his husband was held hostage by a sick, deranged man with a gun.
At least when House had been shot, Wilson knew what to do: be a doctor. During that time, with the surgery and his recovery until he woke up, House hadn’t needed a husband; he had needed a doctor. It had been easy for Wilson to slip into the role of professional doctor from frantic husband.
But, Wilson hadn’t known how to react while he had been stuck down in the ER, attending to patients that had been safely transferred, and House had been trapped in Cuddy’s office with a man who obviously had no qualms about hurting the people inside.
As soon as House had limped within a couple of feet, Wilson was pulling the taller man into his arms, holding him far tighter than he ever had before. He didn’t care if he hurt House’s leg; he just needed to feel him, to know that he was alive. His back half was covered in dust and there were a few cuts on his back and neck from the debris, but Wilson didn’t feel any wounds on the man.
“Why? Why would you do that?” Wilson cried, burying his face in House’s neck. Tears fell from his eyes, soaking House’s shirt. “Why would you give him back the gun? Why didn’t you run?”
When House finally spoke, his voice was shaky and Wilson realized that his husband was actually shivering- he was going into shock, “I had to know what was wrong with him.”
At the honest, unsurprising answer, Wilson had to laugh. His husband was so stupid and single-focused sometimes. He rubbed his hand higher up House’s back until it was cupping the back of his head, then pulled House down into a fierce kiss.
They were standing in the middle of the hallway still, with SWAT team members staring at them, with Cuddy staring at them, but Wilson couldn’t have cared even a little bit less about them if he tried.
House kissed him back just as desperately, gripping Wilson’s waist.
When Wilson pulled away for air, he leaned his forehead against House’s, looking into his eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes were wide with the shock that was setting in more deeply. With another kiss, Wilson used the hand still on the small of House’s back to nudge him in the direction of the elevators, “Come on. Let’s get you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” House said immediately, “He didn’t touch me.”
“I know. I know. But you’re going into shock, okay? I just wanna get you somewhere calmer. Away from all this,” Wilson reassured.
They stepped onto the elevator with a group of SWAT members and Wilson couldn’t help grabbing House’s right hand in his own. Grabbing it though, it occurred to Wilson that House didn’t even have his cane- he must’ve left it downstairs in Cuddy’s office.
When the elevator stopped on their floor, they ignored the SWAT guys’ shouts to clear the building and headed straight for Wilson’s office anyway. The entire way, Wilson supported most of House’s weight, which caused another revelation- “You haven’t had any of your Vicodin, have you?”
House shook his head, collapsing heavily on Wilson’s couch, “Didn’t think the guy would much appreciate it if his doctor was poppin’ pills in front of him.”
Wilson snorted, pulling open his desk drawer for one of the bottles of Vicodin he kept there, “Yes, because you are always so considerate of patients’ feelings.”
“Most patients don’t have guns to my head,” House’s voice was quiet again; Wilson looked over to see that the diagnostician had his eyes closed already, head leaning against the back of the couch. His body was wracked with tension, hand gripped on his right thigh tightly.
Wilson walked over to the couch, kneeling down in front of House. He shook the thin shoulder gently to get House’s attention, which earned him a grumpy grumble as House looked at him. “Here,” He held out the two pills for House to take, “This’ll make you feel better.”
“I know what they’ll do,” Despite his words, House took them with a look of gratitude anyway, washing them down with the bottle of water Wilson also handed him.
For the few minutes it took for the pills to kick in, the two of them were silent. Wilson’s left hand ran soothingly over House’s damaged thigh, his right clasped in House’s own left on the couch, just holding.
As soon as they started working, Wilson watched House’s body relax into the couch, the tension draining away from him. A quick feel of his wrist revealed that House’s heart rate had also slowed down to a much more agreeable speed.
“How’re you feeling?” Wilson asked, never ceasing his rubbing.
House took a moment to respond and his eyes were a little glassy when he met Wilson’s gaze, “Tired.”
“Yeah, figured you might be. We’ll stay here for a little while, let things calm down downstairs, then I’ll take you home,” Wilson leaned forward on his knees, pressing a kiss against House’s forehead. He didn’t move as he spoke, lips pressing against House’s skin with each word, “You scared the hell out of me today. You’re apparently a magnet of some kind for guns.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” House mumbled. He pressed even closer to his husband, circling his hand around the oncologist’s middle.
“Not your fault,” Wilson said immediately, “But for the love of god, do not do that again.”
“Jewish. Can’t say that.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re lucky I love you. But if you ever hand a delusional man a gun again, I am going to beat you over the head with your own cane. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear. Love you, too, by the way.”
The door opened behind Wilson. Without even thinking about it, Wilson straightened his spine to block House’s form from the view of whoever just walked in. He twisted his head around to find Cuddy standing in the doorway, smiling apologetically at Wilson.
“I just wanted to see how he was doing,” Cuddy said quietly.
Surprisingly, House didn’t have some smart-ass comment at that, which worried Wilson greatly, but when he glanced down, he saw that House had actually fallen asleep, the stress of the day and the Vicodin knocking him right out.
With an adoring smile still on his face, Wilson turned back to Cuddy, “He’s doing… okay. A little shaken up, but otherwise- it’s House.”
Cuddy nodded, “Yeah. He and you have the rest of the week off. Take care of him, okay?”
“Of course,” Before Cuddy could walk out, Wilson called after her, “How’s Thirteen?”
“She’ll be on dialysis for about a week, but she’ll make a full recovery.”
“Glad to hear it. Send her my wishes, will you?”
“I will. And the lobby is clear for now- get him outta here while you can. I don’t think he would want anyone to see him so out of it again.”
“Thanks, Lisa. I appreciate it.”
“Goodnight, Dr. Wilson.”
“Goodnight, Dr. Cuddy.”
When she was gone, Wilson went to his desk, quickly collected his things, threw on his coat, then opened his closet to grab House’s spare coat. Deciding quickly that he didn’t want to waste any more time in getting House home by stopping at Cuddy’s office for his cane, Wilson also grabbed the bright red cane he had put in there about a year ago. Wilson had bought it for House as a joke, but he had seen the joy on House’s face when Wilson handed it to him and decided then that they were going to keep it.
Cane and coat in one hand, Wilson shook House’s shoulder again with his other, smiling at the annoyed look on House’s face and the angry, “Leave me the hell alone.”
“Sorry, but we gotta get home. I have a date later and should really start getting ready if I want my hair to look perfect.”
“Such a girl. Why’d I marry you?”
Wilson dramatically ran a hand through his hair, earning the desired effect- House laughed openly, eyes lighting up with amusement, “Obviously for my dashing good looks.”
“And your wallet,” House smiled.
“That too. To this day, I don’t understand how the man who earns the least in the relationship has to pay for all the dates and food and just about everything,” Wilson helped House into his coat as he spoke. Although, without his sports coat on underneath his coat, he might still be cold when they got outside. Hopefully, the path to his car would be clear.
House pointed a finger at Wilson, mock-glaring at him, “Hey, you keep that up, you’re not getting any tonight.”
Wilson chuckled, “House, if you have the strength to even get it up tonight, I’d be amazed. Come on. Let’s get out of here and get you into a bath. You’ve got dust all over you.”
“Tends to happen when a room explodes behind you.”
Ignoring the reminder of what happened only an hour earlier, Wilson grasped House’s arm and levered him to his feet. He shoved the cane into his right hand and grasped his left one.
With a look at the clasped hands, House smiled tiredly, tightening his hold, “Let’s go home.”
Wilson lead them slowly out into the hallway, keeping his pace slow for the sake of House’s leg.
In the elevator, House leaned into his husband’s side, swaying softly with exhaustion. Wilson turned his head a little, kissing the side of House’s head, whispering into his ear a quick “I love you” before the doors opened and he pulled away to walk them outside.
Thankfully, the path was clear, as Cuddy had promised, and they made it out to Wilson’s car within just a few minutes.
----
The car ride was silent on the way home, with House dozing in the passenger seat and Wilson keeping a hand on his thigh the whole way. He just needed the reminder that House was fine . His husband was alive and well, had escaped from a gun-wielding patient unharmed.
For the second time, a patient was able to bring a gun into the same damned hospital with apparent ease. Given that the first gunman had come too damned close to taking out one of her own doctors, Wilson really thought Cuddy would have done something to up security. Maybe this time, with someone having been shot in her own office, she would do something about it.
In a horrible, selfish way, that no one would ever be able to get Wilson to admit, he was sorta glad that random patient had gotten hurt- he had barely handled it the first time House got shot; he sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to if it happened a second time. The relief he had felt when he found out that the person who had been shot hadn’t been the man he loved was indescribable.
A quick glance from the road to the sleeping man beside him revealed that House was still out of it, head tilted against his chest, pointing toward Wilson. His face was smooth, the usual lines of pain erased from his face for the time being, something that rarely happened- even in sleep. He was still dirty and was obviously still cold even with the heat blasting full force, but he was alive and they were on their way home, where Wilson could hold him as tight as he wanted for as long as he wanted in the safety and comfort of their bedroom.
Wilson pulled his car into the handicapped spot right outside the entrance to the building, House’s placard hanging obviously on the front mirror. He turned off the engine, got out of the car, and jogged to the other side of the car to open House’s door. Apparently, the engine powering down woke him slightly, because he was looking up at Wilson with the most beautiful blue eyes ever, even if they were slightly dulled from the exhaustion and Vicodin in his system.
“Hey,” The taller man said dazedly, grasping his right hand out until it landed on Wilson’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Wilson smiled back, grabbing House’s other hand to help him out of the car and onto his feet. Once he was sure House wouldn’t just topple over, he reached back into the car quickly to grab the cane, then closed and locked the doors, handed House the cane, and together, they walked into the apartment.
Half asleep, the few steps up into the building took longer than they usually would have, but House managed them well enough and before long, they were in the bathroom, Wilson easing House down into the tub carefully.
House settled back against the wall with a contented sigh, eyes closing almost immediately. The warm water was probably heaven on his body and Wilson had even added the fruity bubble bath to the water that House had insisted he started buying a couple of years ago.
“Better?” Wilson asked quietly.
Without even opening his eyes, House nodded, settling down in the tub even further, “Yeah. Thanks.”
“You just relax, I’ll be back in a second.”
Strong, thin fingers grabbed onto Wilson’s wrist tightly before Wilson could even move to stand up from his spot in front of the tub. Blue eyes were staring at Wilson pleadingly, “Don’t go.”
Recognizing what his husband needed- Him , House needed the comfort and strength only Wilson could provide, nothing else- Wilson was quick to smooth out House’s worries, “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I was just gonna get you some water.”
“No water. ‘M fine. Don’t go.”
With a slump of defeat, Wilson settled himself more comfortably on the ground, dropping his bottom onto the bath mat and leaning forward to rest his arms over the side of the tub to start washing House’s back for him, careful with the few cuts on him. None of them were very deep and wouldn’t require any stitches, but Wilson still didn’t want to cause the diagnostician any unnecessary pain.
“I’m not going anywhere. Let’s just get you cleaned up so we can go to bed. I just wanna hold you,” Wilson admitted quietly. He leaned House forward a bit to get easier access to his lower back, then settled him back against the wall, beginning to wash his chin and face, then his chest. When his eyes glanced back to House’s face, he saw that the man was watching him with soft eyes and a little smile. Wilson couldn’t help smiling back, “What?”
“You’re a sap.”
“I know. One of the things you love about me, despite what you declared to everyone on our wedding day,” Wilson teased. Cupping his hand over his husband’s eyebrows to block any water from falling into those eyes Wilson loved so much, Wilson pulled down the shower head to start rinsing the shampoo and soap from the thinner doctor’s body.
“Well,” House said, body practically putty as he allowed Wilson to help him out of the tub while the water finished draining, “I wouldn’t want people to think I’m going soft.”
Wilson toweled House off, making sure he was completely dry before dropping the towel in the hamper- House hated going to bed wet, complained about the sheets itching if there was any water still touching his skin when he laid down. “Of course. Wouldn’t want friends and patients to have the insane idea that a grown man would want to catch anything as horrible as cooties from his husband.”
“Exactly. It’d be unprofessional. Wouldn’t want that,” House curled up under the covers Wilson held open for him, body melting into the bed almost immediately. He turned over to lay carefully on his right side, being sure to keep all of his weight off of his thigh and Wilson felt his heart beat harder at what the gesture meant; House wanted Wilson to be the big spoon tonight. An action rarely indulged in unless Wilson forced it on him or House was having a particularly crappy day.
As quickly as he could, Wilson got ready for bed. He made sure the door was locked, turned off their cell phones and pagers, brushed his teeth, changed into his PJs, then curled as tightly as he could into his husband’s back. His left hand slid around a thin hip to settle comfortably on his belly, while his right slid under the pillow and around the front to dangle slightly off of the bed. Both of House’s hands immediately clasped both his hands.
Any part of their body they could manage was touching as closely as possible. There wasn’t even an inch of space between them.
Neither man cared that most of the bed was still free behind Wilson. They needed the touch, the physical reminder that everything was okay. They were both alive, safe, comfortable within each other’s arms.
Wilson leaned his head down to press a few slow kisses to House’s neck, earning a satisfied hum from the man before him. There wasn’t even thought of doing anything physical tonight, not with how emotionally draining the day had been, but the simple intimacy was enough for the both of them.
With a final kiss just behind his husband’s ear, Wilson settled again on the pillow, feeling the steady, powerful thumping of House’s heartbeat against his chest where it was pressed firmly to House’s back.
His husband was alive, safe, and was not going to leave the apartment, let alone their bed for the rest of the week if Wilson got his way.
“I love you,” He breathed into House’s ear.
“I love you, too,” House was asleep almost as soon as he finished speaking, but that was okay; with the love of his life, his protector, pressed solidly against his back, he was safe. No one would ever be able to hurt him with Wilson by his side.