Sorry it took so long, I've been extremely busy. As always please commento and review. =D
This was his chance to kill the asshole. This was his chance to avenge Cuddy.
o get shot, He thought to himself, te sure te want to die trying to cane her rapist?
The box auto, garage was too dark to see anything clearly. It was fall, the sun was starting to set earlier and earlier. Plus the land around Cuddys’ house was surrounded da trees. House was about to bash in Tritters’ skull when the gun was, all of the sudden, withdrawn. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter followed da the soft rustle of fabric. So, Cuddy had already done a number on him.
Good for her, House thought.
But what was he to do now? Let him die? That was certainly appealing. However, if House did that then the county judge would make sure Cuddy paid. It didn’t matter whether she had done it out of self-defense. Cuddy was the one that would be punished. Cuddy was the one who was being punished.
Damn him, House thought angrily.
For Cuddys’ life was now tied to Tritters’ and all of her escape routes were blocked off. If she tried anything it would backfire on her. House would have to treat the bastard. It would be stupid to sacrifice Cuddy in order to save Cuddy. Grudgingly, House flipped on the lights in order to assess Tritter, only it didn’t turn out to be Tritter that needed to be assessed. It was Cuddy. She was lying on her side, curled into a ball as if to ward off the world. Blood tricked down her arms, which were wrapped tightly around her chest accumulating in a rapidly expanding puddle beside her. The confident expression was gone from her face, replaced da one of unimaginable pain both physical and emotional and even though her bacheca of pseudo-perfection was dropped there was still a barrier around her. The agony of the past six weeks separated her from the rest of humanity. He wanted to help her, but he couldn’t. It was like she was there, but not there. At once he flung his cane to the side and dropped to his knees beside her.
“Cuddy,” he detto urgently.
Her eyes opened and stared at him distrustfully.
“Why aren’t te at work,” she asked hoarsely between gasps.
House didn’t know whether to laugh o cry at that question. She was dying and she was worrying about the hospital?
“Have te called 911?”
“I never…never got a chance. I __”
“It’s all right,” House detto soothingly as he withdrew his cell phone from his pocket, “It’s going to be okay.”
Without thinking he rested his hand on her forehead and massaged it with his thumb. He could feel her shudder, but she made no effort to move. Perhaps because she couldn’t move. He withdrew his hand feeling oddly hurt. After several minuti of arguing with the 911 operator he hung up the phone. He jammed it back into his pocket angrily and looked at Cuddy. Poor Cuddy, bleeding to death on the floor of her box auto, garage all because she rejected a psychotic detective and the system could not stop failing her. They couldn’t bring justice to the man who continued to destroy her and they couldn’t send her an ambulanza right away because of a twelve car pile-up on the interstate.
“What did they say,” she asked weakly.
She was deteriorating fast. The pool of blood beside her was expanding even faster than before and her pale skin had taken on a gray hue. House had to do something.
“They’ll get here as soon as possible. sposta your arms,” he said.
“Why?”
“Cuddy, you’re bleeding everywhere as te already know. I’m going to try to help you, but if te don’t let me you’re screwed. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”
The time it took for her to consider trusting him was too long for Houses’ liking. Just as he was about to try a different approach she unfolded her arms. The stab-would was about four inches long and very deep. Blood coursed from it like water from a faucet staining her camicia and her fair skin. The left front of her superiore, in alto had turned completely red and was soaking.
“Can te feel your legs,” House asked worriedly.
The response, o lack there of, did not assuage his anxiety.
“Cuddy,” he detto urgently, looking at her.
If House hadn’t known that she had been stabbed he would’ve thought she was asleep. She looked so peaceful, her eyes closed, her long delicate lashes giving her the appearance of a porcellana, in porcellana doll.
“Cuddy,” House shouted gruffly.
“Hmmm…” she murmured almost inaudibly.
“Can te feel your legs?”
A pause, Dead air.
“Cuddy, please answer,” House practically pleaded.
“I…don’t….know,” Cuddy whispered slowly.
“Damn it,” House muttered unbuttoning the outermost camicia he was wearing and balling it up hastily. As he was about to roll her over onto her back for better access he noticed something even più disturbing. Whatever Tritter had stabbed her with had gone all the way through. There was no time to wait for the ambulance, it was time to act. With one hand he held the waded up camicia on the gash. With the other he fumbled for his phone nearly dropping in five times before he was finally able to hit speed dial two.
“CVS pharmacy, how may I help you,” Sarah answered caustically.
“I need te at Cuddys’ house now,” House demanded.
“I’m not into that freaky three way shit. più is definitely not merrier in that scenario.”
“Cuddy will bleed to death in approximately twenty minuti if te don’t get your culo over here.”
“I’ll be there in ten. I’ve got everything we need.”
House hung up the phone and looked down at Cuddy.
“Sarah will be here soon,” he detto reassuringly, “How are you?”
He had to keep her talking. If she slipped unconscious she might never wake up.
“It hurts,” she detto weakly, “…and I’m cold…and tired”
“It’s going to be all right, just stay with me a little longer.”
“
True to her word she came dashing up the driveway bare-foot carrying an ambu-bag, defibrillators, two IV tubes, an IV bag and suturing materials.
“She needs blood transfusions, how are we going to get them,” House asked.
“I’m type O,” Sarah replied setting the supplies on the floor.
“You’re going to ensanguinate yourself,” House replied.
“Do te see any other option? She’s not going to make it to the hospital, te waited to long.”
“I called 911 ten minuti ago. They were occupied with the twelve car pile-up on the interstate.”
“So why didn’t te drive her?”
“Whatever he stabbed her with went all the way through, I didn’t and still don’t know if it hit her spinal cord.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What did he use?”
“I don’t know,” House replied beginning to suture the injury.
“Was he here when te arrived,” Sarah asked jamming one end of one of the IV tubes into an IV line she had placed in her arm. In a matter of five minuti she had one IV tube drawing blood from her into the bag and another one draining the blood from the bag into Cuddy.
“You’re insane,” House detto as he tied off the suture, “Or te don’t value your life.”
“I would think you’d be più appreciative of this, considering I’m saving the woman to whom te are chemically bound,” Sarah replied.
“Don’t start.”
“Fine, te two will reach a point in your lives when te won’t be able to deny it anymore and I will laugh, point, and say I told te so te ignoramuses.”
House rolled his eyes.
“Do te know if this is actually where she was stabbed?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll go look around the house.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her.”
House nodded and disappeared into the laundry room. While he investigated Sarah began to examine Cuddy.
“Are te conscious,” she asked as she checked Cuddys’ pulse.
Cuddy didn’t answer.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Sarah muttered to herself.
Cuddys’ pulse was 120 beats per minute, respiration was good, she had stopped bleeding, externally at least, and per patellar reflexes were normal. She wasn’t paralyzed luckily for her. Even though it seemed like she was doing good, her cuore rate was way to fast and her skin was not regaining its usual color. Internal bleeding was to be expected, but the domanda was how severe. Sarah rolled Cuddy back onto her side and lifted the back of her shirt. The entire right side of her lower back was blackish-blue.
“House,” she barked.
A few secondi later House appeared in the doorway.
“What do te make of this,” he asked holding up a syringe.
“We need to go now.”
“Did te fail the test on spinal cord injuries in medical school? We don’t have the proper equipment to sposta her. We don’t know if the coltello nicked the spinal cord o if there’s a broken vertebrae __”
“I am ninety-four point three seven percent certain that nothing is wrong with her spine.”
“Oh well, then nothing will happen. She’ll be just fine because te are ninety-four percent certain she will be.”
“Either we sposta her o she either bleeds to death o becomes septic from the waste her shredded right kidney is leaking into her body and I die with her because basically I am wasting my own blood. So, I’m taking her to the hospital. It would be helpful if te would drive, but if te want to be a dick and uncharacteristically worry about the risks I can do this on my own.”
House rolled his eyes.
“I’ll drive.”
This was his chance to kill the asshole. This was his chance to avenge Cuddy.
o get shot, He thought to himself, te sure te want to die trying to cane her rapist?
The box auto, garage was too dark to see anything clearly. It was fall, the sun was starting to set earlier and earlier. Plus the land around Cuddys’ house was surrounded da trees. House was about to bash in Tritters’ skull when the gun was, all of the sudden, withdrawn. It fell to the ground with a loud clatter followed da the soft rustle of fabric. So, Cuddy had already done a number on him.
Good for her, House thought.
But what was he to do now? Let him die? That was certainly appealing. However, if House did that then the county judge would make sure Cuddy paid. It didn’t matter whether she had done it out of self-defense. Cuddy was the one that would be punished. Cuddy was the one who was being punished.
Damn him, House thought angrily.
For Cuddys’ life was now tied to Tritters’ and all of her escape routes were blocked off. If she tried anything it would backfire on her. House would have to treat the bastard. It would be stupid to sacrifice Cuddy in order to save Cuddy. Grudgingly, House flipped on the lights in order to assess Tritter, only it didn’t turn out to be Tritter that needed to be assessed. It was Cuddy. She was lying on her side, curled into a ball as if to ward off the world. Blood tricked down her arms, which were wrapped tightly around her chest accumulating in a rapidly expanding puddle beside her. The confident expression was gone from her face, replaced da one of unimaginable pain both physical and emotional and even though her bacheca of pseudo-perfection was dropped there was still a barrier around her. The agony of the past six weeks separated her from the rest of humanity. He wanted to help her, but he couldn’t. It was like she was there, but not there. At once he flung his cane to the side and dropped to his knees beside her.
“Cuddy,” he detto urgently.
Her eyes opened and stared at him distrustfully.
“Why aren’t te at work,” she asked hoarsely between gasps.
House didn’t know whether to laugh o cry at that question. She was dying and she was worrying about the hospital?
“Have te called 911?”
“I never…never got a chance. I __”
“It’s all right,” House detto soothingly as he withdrew his cell phone from his pocket, “It’s going to be okay.”
Without thinking he rested his hand on her forehead and massaged it with his thumb. He could feel her shudder, but she made no effort to move. Perhaps because she couldn’t move. He withdrew his hand feeling oddly hurt. After several minuti of arguing with the 911 operator he hung up the phone. He jammed it back into his pocket angrily and looked at Cuddy. Poor Cuddy, bleeding to death on the floor of her box auto, garage all because she rejected a psychotic detective and the system could not stop failing her. They couldn’t bring justice to the man who continued to destroy her and they couldn’t send her an ambulanza right away because of a twelve car pile-up on the interstate.
“What did they say,” she asked weakly.
She was deteriorating fast. The pool of blood beside her was expanding even faster than before and her pale skin had taken on a gray hue. House had to do something.
“They’ll get here as soon as possible. sposta your arms,” he said.
“Why?”
“Cuddy, you’re bleeding everywhere as te already know. I’m going to try to help you, but if te don’t let me you’re screwed. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”
The time it took for her to consider trusting him was too long for Houses’ liking. Just as he was about to try a different approach she unfolded her arms. The stab-would was about four inches long and very deep. Blood coursed from it like water from a faucet staining her camicia and her fair skin. The left front of her superiore, in alto had turned completely red and was soaking.
“Can te feel your legs,” House asked worriedly.
The response, o lack there of, did not assuage his anxiety.
“Cuddy,” he detto urgently, looking at her.
If House hadn’t known that she had been stabbed he would’ve thought she was asleep. She looked so peaceful, her eyes closed, her long delicate lashes giving her the appearance of a porcellana, in porcellana doll.
“Cuddy,” House shouted gruffly.
“Hmmm…” she murmured almost inaudibly.
“Can te feel your legs?”
A pause, Dead air.
“Cuddy, please answer,” House practically pleaded.
“I…don’t….know,” Cuddy whispered slowly.
“Damn it,” House muttered unbuttoning the outermost camicia he was wearing and balling it up hastily. As he was about to roll her over onto her back for better access he noticed something even più disturbing. Whatever Tritter had stabbed her with had gone all the way through. There was no time to wait for the ambulance, it was time to act. With one hand he held the waded up camicia on the gash. With the other he fumbled for his phone nearly dropping in five times before he was finally able to hit speed dial two.
“CVS pharmacy, how may I help you,” Sarah answered caustically.
“I need te at Cuddys’ house now,” House demanded.
“I’m not into that freaky three way shit. più is definitely not merrier in that scenario.”
“Cuddy will bleed to death in approximately twenty minuti if te don’t get your culo over here.”
“I’ll be there in ten. I’ve got everything we need.”
House hung up the phone and looked down at Cuddy.
“Sarah will be here soon,” he detto reassuringly, “How are you?”
He had to keep her talking. If she slipped unconscious she might never wake up.
“It hurts,” she detto weakly, “…and I’m cold…and tired”
“It’s going to be all right, just stay with me a little longer.”
“
True to her word she came dashing up the driveway bare-foot carrying an ambu-bag, defibrillators, two IV tubes, an IV bag and suturing materials.
“She needs blood transfusions, how are we going to get them,” House asked.
“I’m type O,” Sarah replied setting the supplies on the floor.
“You’re going to ensanguinate yourself,” House replied.
“Do te see any other option? She’s not going to make it to the hospital, te waited to long.”
“I called 911 ten minuti ago. They were occupied with the twelve car pile-up on the interstate.”
“So why didn’t te drive her?”
“Whatever he stabbed her with went all the way through, I didn’t and still don’t know if it hit her spinal cord.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What did he use?”
“I don’t know,” House replied beginning to suture the injury.
“Was he here when te arrived,” Sarah asked jamming one end of one of the IV tubes into an IV line she had placed in her arm. In a matter of five minuti she had one IV tube drawing blood from her into the bag and another one draining the blood from the bag into Cuddy.
“You’re insane,” House detto as he tied off the suture, “Or te don’t value your life.”
“I would think you’d be più appreciative of this, considering I’m saving the woman to whom te are chemically bound,” Sarah replied.
“Don’t start.”
“Fine, te two will reach a point in your lives when te won’t be able to deny it anymore and I will laugh, point, and say I told te so te ignoramuses.”
House rolled his eyes.
“Do te know if this is actually where she was stabbed?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll go look around the house.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her.”
House nodded and disappeared into the laundry room. While he investigated Sarah began to examine Cuddy.
“Are te conscious,” she asked as she checked Cuddys’ pulse.
Cuddy didn’t answer.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Sarah muttered to herself.
Cuddys’ pulse was 120 beats per minute, respiration was good, she had stopped bleeding, externally at least, and per patellar reflexes were normal. She wasn’t paralyzed luckily for her. Even though it seemed like she was doing good, her cuore rate was way to fast and her skin was not regaining its usual color. Internal bleeding was to be expected, but the domanda was how severe. Sarah rolled Cuddy back onto her side and lifted the back of her shirt. The entire right side of her lower back was blackish-blue.
“House,” she barked.
A few secondi later House appeared in the doorway.
“What do te make of this,” he asked holding up a syringe.
“We need to go now.”
“Did te fail the test on spinal cord injuries in medical school? We don’t have the proper equipment to sposta her. We don’t know if the coltello nicked the spinal cord o if there’s a broken vertebrae __”
“I am ninety-four point three seven percent certain that nothing is wrong with her spine.”
“Oh well, then nothing will happen. She’ll be just fine because te are ninety-four percent certain she will be.”
“Either we sposta her o she either bleeds to death o becomes septic from the waste her shredded right kidney is leaking into her body and I die with her because basically I am wasting my own blood. So, I’m taking her to the hospital. It would be helpful if te would drive, but if te want to be a dick and uncharacteristically worry about the risks I can do this on my own.”
House rolled his eyes.
“I’ll drive.”
