Chapter 1

Middle Name: Relentless

Set Post-season 3 episode 12. After House's emotional encounter with a rape patient, he needs a quiet night in the flat. Of course dredging up old emotions causes some interesting developments. House and Wilson friendship, no slash. Hurt/comfort, Angst… and when I say angst I mean the sky is falling and James Wilson is the only one who can catch it before it crushes Gregory House.

House sat on the couch in his flat, listening to the pitter-pat of the rain on his window.

He hated the rain, he absent mindedly massaged the torn and aching muscle in his thigh, the rain always irritated it. It was a like a small child who's mother hadn't heard its cries earlier, and now cries even harder to acquire attention. Only this baby wasn't a baby, it was the aftermath of a grueling and terrible experience that had left a broken man on the earth, with no plan for him. House stood up from his place on the couch. Slowly, carefully… testing the limb before he laid his trust on it. It was holding-for now. He grabbed his cane and began a slow and painful journey across the room to the piano, something to get the ache in his thigh off his mind, and the emotions that that girl had brought up. He didn't want to admit it, but having someone who gave House the sense that he wasn't the only miserable person on the planet comforted him. He couldn't create a sarcastic and snide comment to get her off his shoulders… he had to deal. With the thoughts of the day pushed from his mind, he played a calm but sorrowful tune, the only one that his hands would play in this mood. As his fingers tapped the last few keys of the song, his phone buzzed… Foreman, great.

"What?" He said with a slight snap.

"The patient isn't reacting to the medication, I don't think it's Lupus…"

"Fine, start them on Steroids for Scleroderma. And keep her alive 'till tomorrow." He said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

Foreman hung up, and House internally groaned at the reliance on his guidance his team had. He got up slowly, but instead of the ache of his thigh fading when he stood, the muscle began writhing and clenching relentlessly beneath his jeans. He let out a groan and clutched his thigh, sitting back down on the bench of his piano. He hunched over it, digging the heel of his hand into it to relieve the pain. It wasn't working. His hands shook with the pain wracking his body. Breath… breath dammit.

As another ripple of a spasm worked through his thigh, he held his breath in an attempt to pull enough strength and tolerance to get up off of the bench. He had to reach his phone, or a phone. Wilson. He thanked his laziness for the speed dial he had set up forever ago. After two rings, the Oncologist picked up.

"House? I'm at dinner, can't whatever you have to tell me wait until tomorrow?" He said with a lip of humour.

"Wilson…" *pant* "I need you to come over." He said flatly, his eyes clenched with the effort of keeping his voice even, Wilson noticed the edge, and immediately knew something was up.

"House, are you okay? Where are you?" He said, concern creeping it's way into his voice.

"At home… Just" *pant* "feeling lonely." A short burst of sarcasm making it's way into his reply. He almost couldn't bear to stay awake anymore. Little black spots danced across his vision, and he could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his ears, he wasn't going to make it till Wilson got here. He could hear James babbling in his ear, but couldn't concentrate hard enough to understand it.

His phone dropped to the floor, the battery popping out.

Sweat was now drenching his blue button up and the Rolling Stones t-shirt underneath. He couldn't stay here, he had to make it to the couch, if he ended up passing out, he'd be damned if it was face flat on the ground.

With as much strength as he could muster, he used his left arm to lever himself up from the piano, almost hopping to the couch. Barely making it before he collapsed onto his cushions with a cry of pain. He lay on his side clutching his knee, afraid to touch the muscle, but also in too much pain not to support it. The sweat dripping into his eyes.

Wilson's keys could be heard jingling in the lock to the flat's door, with urgency he stepped in searching the room with his eyes as he walked around the couch. He found a rigid form, sweat covered, and clutching his knee to keep his leg stable. The most frightening thing was the glassy and unaware look in House's eyes.

Wilson knelt down, "House? House, can you hear me?" He said. Putting his fingers to his neck to get a pulse. He was tachycardic. Not good.

"Wilson…" came a quiet and pained whisper "Morphine…"

Wilson's heart skipped a beat at that word. House hadn't this much breakthrough pain since Stacy left, and even then it wasn't real pain.

House couldn't suppress a scream of agony. This wasn't good. House was breathing hard now, trying to catch his breath. But it was no use. If the pain continued, he'd soon pass out. "Wi-" *gasp* "Wilson, morphine… now." He was gasping with every breath now, groans of pain escaping his mouth as he lay there, helpless.

Wilson had never moved that fast in his life. Racing to the all too familiar bookshelf with the little metal box containing the only thing that House cared for almost more than Wilson. House found a break in the spasms and was able to let his body relax, even with the dull ache in his thigh, perfect timing. Wilson tied the tourniquet around his arm and injected the largest and safest dose of morphine House's agony wrecked body could handle without stopping his heart.

With a long release of breath, House whispered "Thank you." His breaths were still ragged and shortcoming, but they were slowing down with each inhale. His eyes drooped with every passing second as the morphine kicked in, whisking away every stab and clench of pain House had been feeling. "You're welcome, House."

This couldn't just be breakthrough pain. House's day had been long and tough. That girl had done something to him, but it wasn't a bad thing.

Relentless criticism and opinion filled reviews are much needed (and wanted). Please leave a comment if you are so inclined.