Hangman

PART TEN

*
Cuddy is standing behind the desk, her hands placed flat on the wooden surface.
“So,” she says, her voice hard enough to penetrate even House’s bedraggled brain. “What’s been happening?”
The men in front of her shuffle their feet uncomfortably, apart from House who is sniggering at a plant pot.
“Well?” There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind now about why they’re here. “Wilson.” The doctor looks up from the floor. “How about you start us off.”
“Well I-I-I-” Wilson stutters, a faint blush crossing his cheeks.
“Chase?”
The pale, sickly-looking doctor opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it and shakes his head.
“House?” The eldest doctor glances at Cuddy, a smirk written on his lips.
“Nooo…” he says slowly, grinning at the woman in front of him. “Nuh uh.”
Cuddy stares at the three of them.
“What do you all mean, ‘no’?” She slams her hands down on the desk. “I don’t care about your personal difficulties. I need you to work! I need this hospital to work! And it can’t do that until something is sorted out!”
Outside in the hall, the small audience look at one another, anticipation on their faces. House starts a round of slow applause.
“Nicely said Cuddy. *Very* moving. However,” House pauses and looks at Wilson and then Chase, “I don’t think there really are any problems. At least not with me.”
House turns to leave.
“You’re a wonderful doctor House,” Cuddy says, “But your social skills are crap.”
House doesn’t often feel a blush in his cheeks and he refuses to acknowledge this one. He turns back to the desk, trying to ignore Wilson’s satisfied smirk.
Cuddy walks around the desk, past the men standing in front of it, and opens her office door.
“Go back to work!” she orders loudly, and the hospital staff handing around in the corridor immediately scatter and try to look busy. Cuddy slams the door and locks it.
“None of you are leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on.” She says. “I know I decided it was none of my business a while ago, but now none of you are working and sooner to later one of you is going to crack. So, talk. Or we will be here until one of you does.”
*
House is sobering up quicker than he would have thought possible. Time ticks by so, so slowly, as they stand there in the office, Cuddy’s death-glare not sliding down one notch. Chase is trembling, eyes fixed on the floor, widening as though they can see things no one else can. Wilson has his arms folded, a gesture of defiance, but from this angle it looks more like he’s hugging himself protectively. House’s leg is starting to really, really hurt, but he can’t bring himself to take a Vicodin, not with the way Cuddy is scowling at him.
“We have been here nearly three hours.” Cuddy snarls angrily. “And we are getting nowhere. So. I’ll start asking more specific questions.” Her eyes rake over them. “Who set off the fire alarm?” Silence. “Who the hell broke Wilson’s nose?”
“My nose isn’t broken!” protests Wilson loudly. Cuddy ignores him.
“And why is it none of you seem to do any work any more?”
More silence. Finally, Chase raises his head and opens his mouth. House and Wilson turn to glare at him, like he’s a traitor. Instead, the Australian simply says two words.
“I quit.” He pauses. “I don’t want to do this any more.” But he’s not looking at Cuddy as he says it. He’s looking at the two men beside him.
House looks into Chase’s eyes and for once he can’t think of a single sarcastic comment to come out with. His mouth has gone dry. House looks away, a scowl crossing his features. He obstinately pulls out two Vicodin and chews them. Beside him, Wilson is spluttering his indignation.
“But- but- why?”
Chase shrugs.
“Stop being so pathetic Jimmy.” House mutters, turning to glare at the other doctor, “He’s leaving. Big deal.” House is both pleased and hurt to see Wilson flinch slightly at his words. He swallows the crumbles that are left of the tablet and turns back to Cuddy.
“Why don’t you just *fuck off* Greg?” Wilson hisses between his teeth, all traces of uncertainty now gone. “Why don’t you just go back to your flat and play your piano? Because that’s all you seem capable of doing!”
Wilson’s face is red and his chest is heaving slightly. House blinks at him.
“Shut up Jimmy.” He says calmly, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest and the cold feeling that’s spreading from his stomach.
For a moment, he thinks that Wilson’s going to hit him, but the other doctor turns to Chase and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Chase- Robert, please don’t do this. Don’t leave m-” His voice is becoming a monotone. “Don’t leave your life behind you.”
Chase is staring at the ground, his knees shaking. He just wanted to go home, to get away from both House and Wilson. But now he wants to see this through.
“Oh *please* Jimmy.” House’s tone is cruel and mocking. “If he wants to go then let him go!” He lets out a bite of laughter. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Maybe not to you.” Wilson says, his voice low and his fists clenched. “But he matters to me.”
“Oh sure he does,” House replies, feeling his own temper rise, “But are you sure you mean anything to him?”
Wilson raises his head and points a finger at House.
“Why do you *have* to ruin everything? Every single thing House! Every single fucking thing!”
House is shocked to hear tears in Wilson’s voice. He wants to backtrack, to pretend that this hasn’t happened. But he can’t. Because he’s a cold manipulative bastard and he’s used to hiding his pain by now.
“What is it with you House? Why can’t you be happy for me and Chase?”
House bites back the urge to shout “Because you were mine first! You were mine!” He wants to run his fingers through Jimmy’s brown hair, he wants to kiss him, hug him. But he doesn’t because he can’t. Because Wilson isn’t his.
“Fine.” House says, his voice cold, uncaring. “Take him. It’s not as if I haven’t had him already.”
He hears Chase gasp and then Wilson’s lunging at him again. Wilson’s got his shirt gripped tightly in his hands and he’s pushed him so he’s pressed against the desk.
“I *know* House. I know he’s been your little whore. I know you’ve broken him, made him cum, made him *beg*.” Wilson hisses into House’s ear. “But he doesn’t want you. You pushed him too far.”
House smiles through his pain, trying to ignore the hurt rushing to his chest.
“Isn’t this odd Jimmy?” he says, his voice not quite matching his smile. “Last time around it was you underneath me.”
Wilson glances House up and down and House sees him blush.
“You’re disgusting.” Wilson says, pushing himself away from his once best friend. House laughs.
“Yes, but once upon a time you like it Jimmy. You wanted it.”
“That was a long time ago Greg.” Wilson says, stepping back to he’s beside Chase. “It doesn’t work any more. It never did.”

House is watching Jimmy sleep. He allows himself to smile and run a hand along his lover’s naked side.
“I love you Jimmy.” He whispers. “I love you.”
House lies back into the pillows on the bed, a satisfied sigh breaking his lips. Jimmy lies beside him in the darkness, trying not to listen to House’s words, trying to pretend he’s still sleeping.
In the morning Wilson leaves and House is heartbroken.

House looks at Wilson and Chase sided against him and realises he has nothing left to lose.
“I still fucking love you.” He hisses through his teeth.
“You never fucking loved me!” Wilson replies angrily, although he’s gone very white.
“What?” House whispers. “I thought you *knew*.”
“Yeah, never being there, staying late at work so you wouldn’t have to come home, not bothering to ever talk to me about ANYTHING- yeah Greg, I got the fucking message.” Wilson snarls.
“I always said-”
“Everybody lies.” Wilson says in the cold tone House has so often tossed around. “You can say the words but that doesn’t mean you mean them.”
“I did.”
“Don’t. Just don’t.” Wilson runs a trembling hand across his face and House looks away. At Chase. Who is looking completely and utterly broken.
“So where did I come into all this?” asks the Australian, his voice shaking slightly. “God, were you just using me to make each other jealous?”
“No-” Begins Wilson, but Chase isn’t listening. It’s like the blurred lines he always hoped weren’t there have come into sharp focus, so sharp he can’t ignore them and pretend they’re not there, and now he isn’t feeling miserable any more. He just feels angry. He backs up, to the door, wishing he could open it and escape from his troubles, but the lock holds fast.
“You brought this on yourself you know.” House says coldly. “Letting us in, all the time, never saying ‘no’…”
Chase shakes his head.
“You wonder why I never stopped you, House?” he asks, and almost laughs. He feels light-headed and weak but he can’t stop himself. “Because I care about you. I maybe even love you- but hey, who knows? And even though you hurt me, you left me with bruises I couldn’t explain away, you made every inch of my skin ache because you bit down so hard, you made it hard to walk sometimes because you were so violent, you treated me like dirt- I let you because I thought, you know, at least I’d have something of you. Anything.”
House’s expression is completely emotionless but Chase feels ok about that. He presses his back harder against the door like maybe it will give way all of a sudden, but it still doesn’t.
“Chase-” begins Wilson.
“Don’t talk to me.” Chase hisses. “You’re as bad as House is.” Wilson flinches at that but Chase just keeps on talking, the words pouring out of his mouth because right now he knows they’re *listening* to him. “At least House has never lied to me. He treated me badly, he used me- but at least he made it clear that I meant nothing to him.” House closes his eyes briefly, but Chase barely even notices. “But you, Wilson… You acted like I was worth something, you were gentle, you looked me in the eye and pretended you cared and-” Chase stops, shaking his head, disgust and hurt etched across his features. “I thought you were better than that Wilson, I really did.”
“Robert-” Wilson’s face has crumpled completely and he looks wounded.
“Let me out.” Chase snarls, looking at Cuddy who is standing in the corner and watching them with no expression on her face at all. “Let me out right NOW!”
She walks over and unlocks the door for him, and Chase walks out, slamming it hard behind him.
Cuddy turns to look at House and Wilson.
“You have one week to sort this out.” She says softly. There’s no actual threat but it’s bubbling under her words. She leaves.
House glances at Wilson.
“Looks like it’s just you and me then Jimmy.” He says, tone light but his eyes show that Chase has cut him deeply.
“Go to hell.” Wilson replies, and walks out too, leaving House alone.