Together Alone In This 5/5

[wolfinmyheart.livejournal.com]

Title: Together Alone In This 3/5
Story summary: House and Wilson break up over something that will change their lives radically no matter what they do.
Chapter summary: The moment of truth. At least for Wilson.
Characters: House, Wilson, Cuddy, Sarah
Warning: Mpreg!Wilson, Violence

“She's gone!”
I've never seen Wilson looking so scared in my whole life. “What?” I asked, sounding rather dumb.
“GONE!” Wilson cried out, his eyes wide with fear. His hands were shaking slightly. “I only had to go to the toilet, and she was sleeping in her carrier, behind my desk! No-one could've seen her!” He was pacing trough my office now, silent tears streaming over his face. “I was only gone for three minutes, Lisa! Three minutes!”
“Okay, okay. Calm down.” I said, pressing my fingers against my temples. “Are you sure she's-”
“Gone.” Wilson hissed, slamming his hands on my desk, his palms flat against the dark, wooden surface. I wonder if he knew it was the desk House gave to me two years ago.
Probably not, or he wouldn't be touching it.
“I'll inform security.” I said, grabbing the phone and looking at Wilson's pale face. “We're on lockdown.”

Stress was my biggest enemy, yet my greatest friend that day. It kept me alert, kept me walking and reacting to the questions that were fired upon me.
I could see it eating Wilson up, though. The tears had dried rather quick after I'd called the security department to set the hospital on lockdown. Ambulances were cancelled and sent to Princeton General and a couple of other, smaller hospitals in a radius of fifty kilometers.
Some policemen wanted to talk to me and Wilson as the rest of their special units searched down the complete building, including the basements and the roof.
It scared the hell out of me, but that feeling kept me alert as well.
Sometimes feelings do weird things to your body and mind.
Wilson and I were not allowed to leave my office, 'unless one of you is on the verge of dying, or we find the kid', in the rather unsympathetic terms the policemen had told us before they retreated to join their team and search the hospital for Sarah.
God, Sarah...
I sighed deeply and dropped my head in my hands. “I can't believe this happened.” I muttered, staring at the opposite wall. Wilson crossed my sight as he paced to the other side of the office, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. They were, without a doubt, clenching in sweaty fists.
I could hear his teeth grit.
“Wilson, they'll find her.” I said, rather irritably. Wilson stopped in the middle of the office. “Yeah, but it's either dead or alive!” he snapped, before running his hands trough his messy hair.
We'd been in my office for four hours now. Normally, the room was light and big, with enough space to have the disguise of privacy, even. Now, it was too small, too cramped, too light.
I'd moved from my desk to the sofa, to a chair, back to my desk and then to the small bathroom because I needed to relieve my bladder.
Now I was sitting on one of the comfortable chairs again, my legs tucked up underneath my body, and my nails at least a centimeter shorter because I'd been gnawing on them.
Wilson plopped down on the sofa, rubbing his hands over his face. “What if they'll never find her?” he asked desperately. “What if- what if someone took her outside of the hospital while I was still gone? I- I can't stand this... this waiting...”
I averted my eyes, blinking to keep rid of the burning feeling. “Stop thinking like that.” I said quietly. “It'll make you go crazy.”
Wilson took a deep, quivering breath and nodded. I smiled sadly at him. I was so proud of him. Of how he was handling the situation. He was probably eating himself up from the inside out, but from the outside he eyed calm and sane. As sane as possible.
I checked my watch. “They should bring lunch to the patients soon.” I muttered, raising from the chair and stretching slightly. I moved over to the desk, feeling Wilson's brown eyes burn in my neck. Pretending not to notice, I took the phone and called the intern number to the kitchens of the hospital.
When I was done convincing the staff that yes, food had to be prepared because yes, the patients would otherwise starve to death and yes, I would tell the cops that it was necessary, I turned back to the oncologist.
“Oh, James...” I sighed, walking over and taking place next to my friend. I pulled the crying man in my arms and rocked him, soothingly whispering. “It will all be okay, James.” I said softly, stroking his hair while he cried into my shoulder. “She's gonna be found, and she'll be fine.”
“D-dead or al-alive?” Wilson sobbed.
My breath hitched.
“Yes.” I answered, after overcoming the shock of hearing that question from him. “Yes, dead or alive.”

It was another hour later, when Wilson lost it. He jumped up, deciding that he'd been doing too little for too long.
“James, you're not allowed-” I tried to calm him, knowing beforehand that he couldn't be calmed until his daughter was found. “Shut up.” he hissed, throwing off his labcoat. “I'm sick of doing nothing. My daughter is out there, without having anything to eat for at least six hours! I have to find her, and you nor any of those fucking cops can stop me!”
I took a deep breath. “You're right.” I then said, causing Wilson to blink in surprise. He pulled himself together pretty quickly after that.
He marched to the double doors and threw them open, walking into the empty lobby.
Clearly they were already done here. And how.
I'd kept my blinds shut, not knowing whether I'd be able to restrain myself from stopping the agents from destroying my building to the frame. And now I knew I hadn't made a mistake.
Because I would've tried to stop them, and I would've betrayed Wilson as well as Sarah with it. The lobby looked terrible, and I already saw the bills in front of my retina.
But that wasn't important right now.
Wilson marched towards the staircase – the elevators had been closed down as well – and seemed to be heading for his own floor. I frowned, but followed him nonetheless. My surprise only grew when he didn't turn left, but moved forward when he'd reached his floor. “Where are you going?” I asked, my voice sounding strangely hollow in the empty hallway.
Of course, Wilson didn't answer. I hadn't expected him to. When we reached House's office, the room was empty and dark. I stood beside my friend and glanced at him. “James. She's not here. Nor is House.”
“Did he come in today?” Wilson asked, still staring into House's office.
He promptly turned around and started to run towards his own office. I quickly followed him – as quick as possible on high heels, that is.
“Wilson!” I called after him, stopping shortly to take off my shoes. With the black heels in my hands, I ran after him.
He was standing by his door, frozen, his hand on the knob. I stopped, two meters away. “James.” I whispered. “She's not there.”
“Why not?” Wilson asked in a feebly voice. I thought he was talking to me, and was about to answer, when a second, lower voice answered: “Because if you turn the knob, I'll pull the pin out of the hand grenade.”
My breath hitched, and I stared at the door. I didn't recognize the voice, but Wilson did. Or so it seemed. I saw his backside expand slightly as he took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Mr. Smiths, please-” he started
“You can call me Jerry.” The man snapped trough the solid wood. Wilson took a shuddering breath. “Jerry.” he said. “Jerry, listen to me. I-”
I laid my hand on his arm. “James, this is something for the police.” I whispered. “Let them handle it.”
I had expected Wilson to say no and continue talking into the man, but he nodded.

“Okay, Jerry, I need you to tell me how many people you're keeping there.” The police officer, whom had introduced himself as officer Green, spoke in a calm, clear voice. I held a slightly trembling Wilson in my arms, praying that Sarah was okay.
“A baby and an old cripple.” The man replied. “And a brown-haired nurse or something, but she's dead.”
My heart stopped breathing. How was it possible that no-one of the cops nor security had noticed a person dying? I heard Wilson let out a strangled sob, and realized that it must've been his PA.
I tightened my grip on him.
“That old guy has passed out, by the way.” Smiths said, sounding indifferent. “He was whining about his leg or some-”
“He's missing a muscle, you idiot!” Wilson suddenly shouted, tears of fury and fear running over his face. “He's in pain for the rest of his life! He's in so- in so much pain...”
At the moment Wilson's voice cracked, a gunshot seemed to blast out our tympanic membranes. That was the moment the cops broke in the door and immediately grabbed the hostage taker by his arms, forcing the man to the ground.
Wilson squirmed free out of my grip and bolted into his office as well. He skidded to a stop in front of his desk, on which Sarah was laying. I could hear her shrieking in fear and distress, tears probably wetting her now reddening face.
All of the sudden, the pressure on my shoulders broke to pieces, and relief flooded out of it, dragging me under. Hot tears made their way over my cheeks as I slowly stepped into Wilson's office, eyeing the mess.
The Vertigo poster Wilson had always been so proud of was splattered with blood and pieces of... I didn't want to know what, though I had a pretty good idea.
I squeezed my eyes shut when I saw Wilson's PA laying lifelessly next to the desk, blood pooling around her head. “Jesus...” I whispered, pressing my hands against my face. I couldn't help but think of the time this was going to take. I turned around and looked at Wilson, whom was cradling Sarah to his chest, sobbing with relief.
“House...” I breathed, quickly moving over to Wilson's sofa. Wilson looked up from his daughter and gasped. “Oh God...” he whispered, when he saw his ex lover.
House lay sprawled out on the sofa, his left leg hanging off it. Even while being unconscious, he was clamping his leg, a sheen of sweat on his face and drenching the armpits of his T-shirt. I kneeled beside the sofa and felt his pulse. “His heart's racing.” I muttered. “He's in too much pain. Get morphine in here!”
I looked over at Wilson, whom looked as if he was going to be sick.
“It's okay.” I said, hoping it was the truth. “He just needs painkillers and he'll be fine.” Wilson nodded slowly, rocking Sarah in his arms. She had quieted down now and was examining her daddy's fingers. I looked back at House, stroking his face. “It's okay...” I repeated.

I looked up when the door of House's room opened, and arched my eyebrows when Wilson came in, carrying Sarah in his arms. “Hey.” he muttered, looking unsure of himself.
“Hey. Is she okay?” I asked.
Wilson nodded, hoisting his daughter up a little, since she was leaning on his hipbone. Sarah gurgled and reached out for me. I smiled and took her over from Wilson when he offered so. “Hey, big girl.” I cooed. “You know how proud I am? So very, very proud of you.”
Sarah giggled and nearly poked my eyes out of my face.
I smiled and leaned back a little.
“How is he?” Wilson asked softly, looking at House.
The diagnostician was nearly as pale as the covers, stirring sometimes as he seemed to have restless dreams. I sighed and took House's hand with mine. “Fine, I guess.” I said quietly. “He woke up right after he'd been moved here, but he was too disoriented by the pain to talk, let alone tell us what happened.”
Wilson nodded and took place at the remaining empty chair next to the bed.
The man never ceased to surprise me. I took a deep breath. “James...” I started. “When he came to tell me you went into labor, he told me that he wants you back. He wants both of you back.”
“I know.” Wilson whispered. “I know it, and it scares me.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” I asked. Wilson rubbed his brow. “I want him, too. God, I've never been able to think of anyone else but him when...” he made a vague gesture and I found myself snorting despite the situation. “I sure hope you only used your own bedroom.” I said.
Wilson smiled embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck. “What I meant to say is that I've always loved him. I've always wanted for him to see that we could be a family. That he deserves a family...” his voice trailed away, and I saw his eyes widen in shock. “James?” I asked, before following his gaze.
A blue pair of eyes steadily gazed at Wilson's face, and a throat was cleaned weakly before the joke was cracked.
“Jews aren't allowed to masturbate. Specially not while thinking of another man.”
And Wilson laughed. He actually laughed because of something besides his daughter for the first time in months.
I smiled and rose from my seat, taking Sarah with me outside the room.
They really needed to catch up on gossips.

“I was going to tell Wilson to put a cork in her mouth because she was crying so hard.” House said, earning an indignant look from Wilson with that comment.
Wilson sat on the side of House's bed, holding the man's hand loosely in his own while stroking the back of it with his fingers. House grinned slightly at him.
He was sitting pretty much upright, and had gained a bit more colour than right after he'd woken up.
“So I went over to Wilson's office, and instead of Wilson and a crying baby I found a creepy man and a crying baby.” House continued his story, keeping his tone light, though he had obvious trouble with keeping his expression neutral.
“The creep had a gun, and he pointed it at me as soon as I got in. He told me to shut the fuck up and show a good hiding place.” House looked apologetically at Wilson. “It was either that or my brains getting blown out.” he said. Wilson squeezed his hand reassuringly.
House sighed. “So I told him to take my side of the balcony. I had no idea he intended to take Sarah with him. Or me, for that matter. He told me to grab the carrier and keep her quiet while we were hiding there. That's why you couldn't find us. He kept us moving whenever someone looked on either the balcony or in your office. We even went into my office once, which was when...”
“Which was when you placed that little Zen-garden on your desk.” Wilson softly filled him in. House nodded. “I figured you'd catch the hint.” he muttered.
I'd been sitting in the room silently, next to the bed and listening intently. “I was wondering why you suddenly sped to your office.” I said dryly. Wilson grinned sheepishly.
I saw how House softly squeezed Wilson's hand this time. He continued his story. “At one point your PA came in, and he shot her in the head as if it was nothing when she walked over to your desk to grab the carrier.” House swallowed. “I thought he'd aimed for Sarah...” he muttered.
Wilson stroked his hair, biting his lip. I eyed him thoughtfully. “Why didn't anyone from security notice it?” I asked. House sighed. “He's got some friends there.” he said.
I closed my eyes, hating how the all the upcoming problems of hiring a practically whole new security team unfolded in front of my inner eye.
I dropped my head in my hands and sighed. “Great.” I muttered. “Just great. The lobby has to be fixed, as well as your office, Wilson... And now a whole new security team...”
“At least the building is still standing.” House shrugged.
That sounded so stupid, and so logical at the same time, that I laughed. I rose and ran my hands over my skirt to minimize the wrinkling. “I think I'm gonna take care of that.” I said. “James, do you want me to take Sarah with me?”
“No.” House answered, before Wilson could even open his mouth. Both the oncologist and I stared at the elder man. House met both our gazes steadily.
“I think it's time to catch up on some family-time.” he said.
I smiled broadly when Wilson slowly nodded, and quietly made my way out of the room. When I turned around in the door opening, I saw House's hand waving at me, his face hidden behind Wilson's head as they kissed.
I smiled.
I hadn't failed.