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WIP: stabbed!Wilson, Part 4
And I know, all of this doesn't interest you, and I shouldn't be talking about it, because subject of this post is stabbed!Wilson, not my layout :). I has been writing very fast, yes? Consider it a birthday present ;).
Oh, and plz to be making sure you've read the right third part! There are two; one I posted a couple of days ago and a redone one with correct medicine that I posted yesterday. If you follow the link under the cut, it'll take you to the right third part. Have fun!
PART II
- 12 hours
"Positive for antibodies to both VAL and LAN," the young ER doc announced as he came into the trauma room. House, who'd been leaning against the wall just inside the door, too weary to stand but too wired to sit down, pushed himself off the green tiles and snatched the lab slip from him.
"Two kinds of Ab-HF antibodies?" he asked, his stomach dropping a bit further. He scanned over the numbers on the paper in his hand, and found the small plus-signs that told him that the kid hadn't been lying. "Did they run this twice?"
"Three times, the lab nurse said," the kid said. "They're on the phone with all blood banks from Princeton to Chicago and back, but so far, no luck."
House closed his eyes for a moment. This was getting worse by the minute. They had managed to stabilize Wilson's BP just below one hundred, but his immune system was still chewing up red blood cells, and with the hemolysis and the residual blood loss from the damage to the smaller vessels of the neck, his hematocrit kept falling. If Wilson didn't get some blood, and soon, it wouldn't make much of a difference what they did or didn't do.
He took a deep breath. No use to anyone to be speculating, he reminded himself. He pushed past the ER resident into the hallway and looked around for Cuddy, spotting her a few steps away from the crowd that was still gathered in front of the trauma room. She was pacing back and forth and rapidly talking into her cell phone. When he came closer, he could make out the words.
"... usually blood transfusions are routine treatment. However, your son has some very rare components in his blood that make it incompatible with almost all donor blood, even if it's his AB0 type. We-" She fell silent and listened for a moment; then she nodded. "Exactly. He must have inherited it either from you or your husband; one of you has to be a perfect match, so it's imperative you-" She paused again. "Have them call us," she said then. "Or better even, if they're giving you trouble, give me their number." Pause. "Just calm down, Mr. Wilson. At the moment, your son is stable. Just get here as fast as you can." She listened a few more seconds before she said, "I promise to keep you updated," and hung up.
House, who had sat down on one of the chairs that stood against the wall of the hallway, looked up at her. "See, it is easier," he said.
Cuddy had been standing with her back to him, running a hand through her already rather mussed hair, but now she turned around to look at him. "What?" she asked, her voice somewhat breathless.
House indicated the cell phone. "Not calling him by his name. Keeping your distance. 'Your son' is so much easier than 'Wilson'."
Cuddy stared at him for a moment before she shook her head and threw up her hands. "House-"
"Forget it." House knew he was being unfair; it was more than obvious that the events were affecting Cuddy on more than a professional level. "You found them?"
Cuddy nodded, and House felt some of the tension in his chest relent. He wouldn't have thought that locating a well-respected married middle class couple in their early seventies should be so hard. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson had not been home, though, neither had they been answering their cell phones. House had left it to Cuddy to figure it out. He could only guess that she'd called Wilson's brother. "When will they be here?"
Cuddy sighed, and at her expression, House felt his heart pick up its pace again. "Alex will be here within the hour," she said. "But he's no potential donor, his type is B."
"What about his parents?" House asked when Cuddy didn't continue. She looked down at him, her eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown.
"They're in Europe," she said.
House thought he could actually feel his heart skip a beat. "What?!" Cuddy only looked at him with that unhappy expression on her face, and he gripped his cane a little tighter. "What the fuck are they doing in Europe?"
Cuddy shook her head. "Vacation, I suppose. I just talked to them; they'll be at the airport in Prague in a few minutes and are getting the first flight out."
House looked away and was silent for a moment before he awkwardly got to his feet, wincing as his leg protested. He reached into his pocket for a pill. "Any chances of speeding along the process a bit?" he asked.
Cuddy shrugged somewhat helplessly. "I'll have the local authorities informed, both here and there, and we'll have a helicopter standing by at the airport. Won't make the plane fly any faster, though."
House ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble scratch his palm. Time till take-off, about one hour. Prague to New York, approximately nine hours. New York to Princeton, two hours. Twelve hours. Minimum.
He turned around to look at Cuddy. "He's not gonna hold out that long," he said. "We need to find him some blood elsewhere."
"Half the lab staff and the whole hematology unit are on it, House. But if there's nothing in the blood banks-"
"Thousands of people donate blood every year!" House realized that he'd raised his voice, but didn't seem to be able to stop himself. "Every hospital in the country has a stock of RBC units! There has to be at least one match among them."
He stared at Cuddy, and saw her raise her hand as if she were about to touch him. She knew better, though. "There is one, House," she said. "We just need to find it."
He looked at her for a few more moments before he turned away and walked back to the trauma room. Before he entered, he turned around to face her once again. "Get a hematologist and a trauma surgeon down here," he said. "I have an idea."
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House indicated the cell phone. "Not calling him by his name. Keeping your distance. 'Your son' is so much easier than 'Wilson'."
I especially liked this bit. It's just so House to notice something like that even during an emergency, plus it's true.
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I had this title in ENT fandom, too. I apologize - I just can't help myself! *gg*
And I'm glad you like that part. I'm rather fond of it myself, tbh ;).
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And you can srsly be proud of that part. :-)
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Wow. I read the four parts in like half an hour, and am sure I'll be agonizing, waiting for the next ones =P. This story is really interesting, I enjoyed the medicine bits a lot. Isn't it ironic that, despite House has managed to save Wilson's life twice already (but Wilson saved his first, right?), things not go according to his plan.
Talk about foreshadowing, House (I mean, about his thoughts when watching Wilson on the ER ... part three, I think?). He can't change Wilson's blood nor can make the flight move faster. A link of unfortunate events, right on.
And the funny thing? = Wilson hasn't say a word, so far.
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*gg* That seems to be a distict feature of my longer sick!Wilson fics. He only says something like 50 words in my other fic, too ("Love and Happiness" is the one I'm talking about).
And no probs about the intruding thing! New people are fun, and new friends are ♥ ;). I'm happy you enjoying the fic, and pt 5 shouldn't be long :).
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So exciting :) I can hardly wait for the next part! You'll have to have a birthday every day if you write stuff like this for it :)
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Birthday every day? Anytime ^^.
Glad you're enjoying the fic! :)
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And this fic is intense. Wilson's parents in Europe-I thought they were maybe in another state at most.
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Glad you're enjoying it! And thanks for the compliments about my layout. I'm thinking about designing a Wilson-version ;).
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Eeh, you reading my fic? Must get the medicine right, then, yes? *gg*
Good luck for your board exam!!
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