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sick_wilson2011-06-19 06:15 pm
sydpenguinbunny.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2011-06-19 06:15 pm
Us Against the World, Chapter Seven
Title: Us Against the World
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sydpenguinbunny
Rating: R
Pairing: Wilson/Amber, House/Cuddy, Wilson/House, maybe House/Amber
Spoilers: Up until the end of Season 6.
Warning: Some pretty screwed up stuff in this chapter. Proceed with caution!
Summary: Wilson is kidnapped by someone who holds a grudge against House. House is told to come out and play, and Amber refuses to stand by. Time is running out...
A/N: Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! I am actually posting this as I write it, and I feel like I'm on a roll! I would like to dedicate this chapter to my dad (happy Father's Day), as he is a chemist and when I told him I needed to drug Wilson in a story, instead of sending me to get psychiatric help he informed me about this. He is also a big Amber fan, AND the person who turned me on to House in the first place, many moons ago! :-) Also, in the interest of fairness, this story had some somewhat similar content and probably rubbed off on me.
Onward to the drugging of the Wilson!
Chapter One: A Shot in the Dark
Chapter Two: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
Chapter Three: Photograph
Chapter Four: Private Eye
Chapter Five: Purity
Chapter Six: Nowhere to Go
Chapter Seven: Nightmare
“And I know you hear their voices - calling from above
And I know they may seem real - these signals of love
But our life's made up of choices - some without appeal
They took for granted your soul and it's ours now to steal…”
Wilson was still, awhile, when Lucas left again. Maybe he would let him go. Maybe there was still hope. After all, Wilson hadn’t done anything to Lucas. It had been House. This was bad, and this was scary, but, Wilson reminded himself, nothing horrible had happened yet. Yes, he’d been slapped across the face, but if that was as bad as it got… Maybe Lucas’ whole idea was just to scare the shit out of him and then send him back to House and convince House to break up with Cuddy.
If that was his plan, at the very least the “scare the shit out of him” part was occurring very successfully.
He didn’t know how long it had been when he began to notice his vision blurring; there wasn’t much to look at in the dingy basement but Wilson had been focused on the remnants of the flamingo – one indicator that all was definitely not well on Planet Lucas, but then again the fact that he’d kidnapped Wilson indicated that pretty well as it was – but now he could only see a pink blur, and as seconds ticked into minutes he was beginning to forget what, exactly, the pink blur actually was.
Until the pink blur turned and began to charge in Wilson’s direction.
Wilson let out a cry of surprise, wrestling in his bonds and only succeeding in scratching up his wrists badly, against the metal handcuffs – so I’m bound with handcuffs. Good to know, though I don’t know why.
His thoughts were quickly becoming incoherent as the blur got closer and closer to him. He realized with a start that his shoes were off – when did Lucas take his shoes off? And his socks, too – he didn’t remember. He tried to remember but now the pink blob had teeth and the teeth were getting closer and closer to his toes… Oh shit, fuck, the blob was eating his toes, his right big toe in particular, but it didn’t hurt, why didn’t it hurt?
After all, the nerve centers in his brain should be firing that, oh my God, my toes are getting eaten, but they weren’t, he was just sitting there staring and watching this thing – he didn’t even know what it was – eat his toes, well, just one toe at the moment, maybe it will stop, soon – and shit, maybe he was in shock, maybe the pain would hit him later, maybe he was still hopped up on adrenaline and oh, God, he wanted to scream but he couldn’t remember how to, so he just stared and watched as his toe disappeared off of his foot and then…
Then it disappeared, as quickly as it had appeared. Wilson was instead overcome by the sensation that something was crawling over his body. Snakes, it felt like. Fuck, Wilson hated snakes. He could feel the slime, the scales, making their way down his chest, over his nipples, across his stomach, shit, is this snake poisonous? Is it going to bite me? He could no longer remember who kept him here or why, or even exactly why he couldn’t move. He felt simply terror, simply the force of a hand taking his stomach and twisting it to the right; he wanted to throw up but he couldn’t remember how. Oh fuck, the snake was sliding into his boxers now, into the sensitive… shit, he was fucked, so fucked… it was sliding inside him… It was going to bite him inside and it would kill him, it would hurt so fucking bad, why couldn’t he shake it off, why couldn’t he get away?
He felt a sharp bite, a harsh jab of pain, and he lurched forward, as forward as he could get, and started to throw up, retch – he wasn’t even sure anymore – and then the snake was gone too, Wilson wondered if it had dissolved inside him somehow, rotted, maybe he’d absorbed it into his bloodstream. He wondered giddily if that meant he was part snake now.
“Having fun, Wilson?” came a voice from somewhere, but he didn’t know where, he didn’t know what was going on and he was scared… Things were so confusing and everything hurt and what happened to the snake? He tried to open his mouth to reply but his mouth felt disgusting and he couldn’t remember why. He didn’t like his mouth anymore and he wanted to rip it out of his face but he couldn’t get his hands free to do so.
“Help!” he finally managed to say, at least he thought he did. “The snakes…” And he was sobbing now. The snakes had to have gone somewhere but he didn’t know where. There was the sound of someone laughing, and he wondered why someone was laughing when he had snakes being absorbed into his body. He could feel his stomach getting bigger and bigger until eventually it would burst, and a snake would pop out, or maybe hundreds of snakes that had hatched from snake eggs that had been buried in his stomach.
That image was when he started to cry for House.
There were stabbing pains through his stomach, up into his chest, and everything hurt and he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be home in his bed, safe, where he didn’t hurt and wasn’t afraid. He didn’t even remember what he was afraid of anymore, and he couldn’t quite remember what it was like not to feel afraid, to feel safe. He wondered if he had ever been safe, or if every moment in his life had just been leading up to this, to this point when he would just explode in a haze of pain.
That thought was when he started to cry for Amber, too.
Author:
sydpenguinbunny Rating: R
Pairing: Wilson/Amber, House/Cuddy, Wilson/House, maybe House/Amber
Spoilers: Up until the end of Season 6.
Warning: Some pretty screwed up stuff in this chapter. Proceed with caution!
Summary: Wilson is kidnapped by someone who holds a grudge against House. House is told to come out and play, and Amber refuses to stand by. Time is running out...
A/N: Thank you so much for all your lovely comments! I am actually posting this as I write it, and I feel like I'm on a roll! I would like to dedicate this chapter to my dad (happy Father's Day), as he is a chemist and when I told him I needed to drug Wilson in a story, instead of sending me to get psychiatric help he informed me about this. He is also a big Amber fan, AND the person who turned me on to House in the first place, many moons ago! :-) Also, in the interest of fairness, this story had some somewhat similar content and probably rubbed off on me.
Onward to the drugging of the Wilson!
Chapter One: A Shot in the Dark
Chapter Two: Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
Chapter Three: Photograph
Chapter Four: Private Eye
Chapter Five: Purity
Chapter Six: Nowhere to Go
Chapter Seven: Nightmare
“And I know you hear their voices - calling from above
And I know they may seem real - these signals of love
But our life's made up of choices - some without appeal
They took for granted your soul and it's ours now to steal…”
Wilson was still, awhile, when Lucas left again. Maybe he would let him go. Maybe there was still hope. After all, Wilson hadn’t done anything to Lucas. It had been House. This was bad, and this was scary, but, Wilson reminded himself, nothing horrible had happened yet. Yes, he’d been slapped across the face, but if that was as bad as it got… Maybe Lucas’ whole idea was just to scare the shit out of him and then send him back to House and convince House to break up with Cuddy.
If that was his plan, at the very least the “scare the shit out of him” part was occurring very successfully.
He didn’t know how long it had been when he began to notice his vision blurring; there wasn’t much to look at in the dingy basement but Wilson had been focused on the remnants of the flamingo – one indicator that all was definitely not well on Planet Lucas, but then again the fact that he’d kidnapped Wilson indicated that pretty well as it was – but now he could only see a pink blur, and as seconds ticked into minutes he was beginning to forget what, exactly, the pink blur actually was.
Until the pink blur turned and began to charge in Wilson’s direction.
Wilson let out a cry of surprise, wrestling in his bonds and only succeeding in scratching up his wrists badly, against the metal handcuffs – so I’m bound with handcuffs. Good to know, though I don’t know why.
His thoughts were quickly becoming incoherent as the blur got closer and closer to him. He realized with a start that his shoes were off – when did Lucas take his shoes off? And his socks, too – he didn’t remember. He tried to remember but now the pink blob had teeth and the teeth were getting closer and closer to his toes… Oh shit, fuck, the blob was eating his toes, his right big toe in particular, but it didn’t hurt, why didn’t it hurt?
After all, the nerve centers in his brain should be firing that, oh my God, my toes are getting eaten, but they weren’t, he was just sitting there staring and watching this thing – he didn’t even know what it was – eat his toes, well, just one toe at the moment, maybe it will stop, soon – and shit, maybe he was in shock, maybe the pain would hit him later, maybe he was still hopped up on adrenaline and oh, God, he wanted to scream but he couldn’t remember how to, so he just stared and watched as his toe disappeared off of his foot and then…
Then it disappeared, as quickly as it had appeared. Wilson was instead overcome by the sensation that something was crawling over his body. Snakes, it felt like. Fuck, Wilson hated snakes. He could feel the slime, the scales, making their way down his chest, over his nipples, across his stomach, shit, is this snake poisonous? Is it going to bite me? He could no longer remember who kept him here or why, or even exactly why he couldn’t move. He felt simply terror, simply the force of a hand taking his stomach and twisting it to the right; he wanted to throw up but he couldn’t remember how. Oh fuck, the snake was sliding into his boxers now, into the sensitive… shit, he was fucked, so fucked… it was sliding inside him… It was going to bite him inside and it would kill him, it would hurt so fucking bad, why couldn’t he shake it off, why couldn’t he get away?
He felt a sharp bite, a harsh jab of pain, and he lurched forward, as forward as he could get, and started to throw up, retch – he wasn’t even sure anymore – and then the snake was gone too, Wilson wondered if it had dissolved inside him somehow, rotted, maybe he’d absorbed it into his bloodstream. He wondered giddily if that meant he was part snake now.
“Having fun, Wilson?” came a voice from somewhere, but he didn’t know where, he didn’t know what was going on and he was scared… Things were so confusing and everything hurt and what happened to the snake? He tried to open his mouth to reply but his mouth felt disgusting and he couldn’t remember why. He didn’t like his mouth anymore and he wanted to rip it out of his face but he couldn’t get his hands free to do so.
“Help!” he finally managed to say, at least he thought he did. “The snakes…” And he was sobbing now. The snakes had to have gone somewhere but he didn’t know where. There was the sound of someone laughing, and he wondered why someone was laughing when he had snakes being absorbed into his body. He could feel his stomach getting bigger and bigger until eventually it would burst, and a snake would pop out, or maybe hundreds of snakes that had hatched from snake eggs that had been buried in his stomach.
That image was when he started to cry for House.
There were stabbing pains through his stomach, up into his chest, and everything hurt and he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be home in his bed, safe, where he didn’t hurt and wasn’t afraid. He didn’t even remember what he was afraid of anymore, and he couldn’t quite remember what it was like not to feel afraid, to feel safe. He wondered if he had ever been safe, or if every moment in his life had just been leading up to this, to this point when he would just explode in a haze of pain.
That thought was when he started to cry for Amber, too.
- “Nightmare” – Avenged Sevenfold, Nightmare, 2010.
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And, yes, I will give you that a certain diagnostician will soon be getting video of this...
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Can you help me, please? Can you tell me why I do not have access to view these entries. And what I have to do to read these two parts of your story?
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And yes, soon you will know whether Wilson is intact or not ^_^ Though the next chapter will be dealing with the investigation/Tritter & Miranda again...