HMD: The Return of an Enemy p3

"I don't believe it," Wilson said, looking frustrated. "Why would he come back after a month and just..."


He couldn't pull himself together to say the words. His friend was in the hospital, beaten-up by some detective creep who was able to do anything. The man had caused unbelievably much trouble and pain among House and his team. Even Wilson. House hated him, after he had left him that night where he came into House's apartment and found House lying on the floor, barely conscious because of some pain meds he had stolen. It hadn't been with his good will to just leave House there. It just seemed easier. House had been in so much pain and had taken his time to forgive Wilson for that night.


"I really don't know..." Cuddy wrapped her arms around herself and looked through the glass, at House lying in the bed with closed eyes. Wilson did it, too.


"I think I'm gonna go sit with him for a while," he said quietly and looked down with a sigh.


Cuddy patted his shoulder briefly before he made his way into the room gently.


He sat down in a chair next to the bed, listening to the beeping sound of a steady heart rate and rested his head in his hand as he leaned back in the chair. The hour was late but he just couldn't leave House. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his mind for a moment.


A small deep-throated moan caught his attention. He immediately looked at House in the bed and got up from his seat.


"House?" he whispered and leaned in a little to take a closer look at his friend.


He could sense a slight frown in House face as he started to regain consciousness slowly, moving his head to the side a little before cracking his blue eyes open. They didn't exactly focus right away, but slowly House seemed to manage looking at Wilson.


Wilson sighed in relief. "Thank God," he stated and watched his friend glancing around without any expression. Maybe a little confusion, though.


"You're in the hospital," the younger doctor said gently. "Do you remember anything?"


House didn't seem to be fully aware of what was going on. He closed his eyes against the faint headache.


"Tritter," he managed to choke out after a heavy swallow.


"I know, buddy, I know." Wilson tried to sound reassuring. He moved the chair a little closer to the bed and took his seat.


House opened his eyes again and cleared his throat painfully. "State?"


"Severe concussion, three broken ribs which caused internal bleedings," Wilson listed from his memory," hand broken two places and a lot of bruising." He looked down. This was so hard to go through.


The elder doctor tried to keep his eyes open, but because of the amount pain medication he slowly drifted off to sleep once again, just exactly hearing the list of damages.


Wilson eyed him and got up from the chair, petting House's shoulder briefly.


"Get some rest," he said softly and turned around, leaving the room and letting Cuddy – who was just outside – take over and go sit by House's side for a while.


(TBC)