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sick_wilson2013-06-03 09:23 pm
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Bloodthirsty (Chapter Two)
Title: Bloodthirsty (Chapter One)
Author: mnstrtucrkslash
Summary: Wilson and a young girl both become very sick after being bitten by a teenager who calls himself a vampire (separate attacks, several weeks apart). House fights to identify his friend’s condition and to find a cure or treatment for both patients before it’s too late.
Rating: PG-13 for now, some violence and basic swearing, sexually suggestive but nothing overt or overly bad/ disturbing.
Characters: Greg House and James Wilson.
Warnings: Some OOC behavior, obviously alternate universe, bit of sci-fi/ supernatural elements with the vampire stuff (although I’m making it more a medical condition than mad men running around drinking blood or whatever. Technically, I see House and Wilson as being in a slash relationship, but you can look at it as a close friendship too.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to House, Wilson, or anything related to the show, and this medical disorder I’ve created is 100% my own fabrication. It should not be seen as a negative spin on any real condition/ me taking potshots at porphyria.
Additional Note: I was working on this yesterday but I didn't finish it until just now. Wow, two drabbles, the (probably) final chapter of Paper or Plastic, the snippet challenge, and now this. I have had a crazy busy day.
Words: (2,711 total, 1,333 in this chapter)
chapter one
“Very funny,” I complained, rolling my eyes. House ignored me, still fascinated by the supernatural elements of this case. It’s not like he was the one with a massive infection rampaging through his system. Why would he be worried? “You’d better come up with a real idea before I get as sick as Elizabeth.” He stared at me in confusion. “My patient. Her name is Elizabeth Haywood.”
“We can start your transfusion for now. Hopefully it’ll help. Whatever this is, it’s eating all your red blood cells. That’s why you’re so exhausted and pale. We’re going to have to find a more permanent solution for the future though: something easy to conceal, and simple—but effective—to use. We can’t keep you on an IV or central line the rest of your life, and we definitely don’t want you running off to drink a pint five times a day.” He sent another text to his team. “We’ll give the girl some blood too; see if it does any good.”
“So you’re suggesting, what? A nicotine patch but with blood in it? Don’t be ridiculous.” He chuckled. “You’re the last person I’d ever expect to believe in vampires. We’re missing something. Isn’t that what you always say? Unless you’re playing your worst prank ever, and my blood is fine.”
“This is not a prank.” House grabbed my chair, pulling it (and me) to his side. “Sorry, but you obviously don’t believe me. So look at this.” He took a few drops directly from the latest blood sample, prepared a slide, and placed it under the microscope. I gazed down the eye piece, and was shocked at what I saw. “You’ve done something to the sample. You must have. It’s barely been a day. Blood doesn’t deteriorate this quickly.”
I attempted to stand up after several hours sitting and resting. Suddenly, I felt myself swaying back, and forth. My vision grew blurry, and my whole body seemed heavy. I also felt incredibly nauseated. I knew I was about to pass out. Yet, when I awoke on the floor with House leaning over me, my first thought was, “how did I get here?” Greg helped me to my feet and then forced me into a chair.
“We should do the transfusion in your office for privacy sake. I don’t know how many pints I’ll be able to get my hands on without drawing suspicion, though. Hopefully it’ll be enough to keep you going until I come up with a better solution. “ House’s phone started to play MmmBop.
“My patient?” I croaked, as he read the message. “If I need blood, she does too. I know you had Foreman or Chase or somebody call the cops on her boyfriend but we can’t just let her die.”
“Already gave her a transfusion about an hour ago. Now she’s alert, bouncing around listening to music, and apparently tweeting. Chase just took another sample of her blood, which should be arriving right about—” He paused, looking towards the door. “Damn how cool would it be if I could predict things perfectly?”
“She can’t walk around the rest of her life with a blood in her purse just in case she starts feeling…like crap. God, I feel awful.” I moaned, clutching my temples. “We both need a long-term solution. A cure’d be fantastic but as far as I know whatever mutant version of porphyria…or whatever we’ve been infected with has never been documented. So, a cure is probably too much to ask for.”
“Taub, Foreman, and Thirteen are doing research—medical journals, old patient files…Google—as we speak.” House was being almost nice to me. Never a good sign. The night before I had to have my appendix taken out, Greg sat with me, going over stories about patients waking up during surgery, instruments being left inside people, all sorts of nasty stuff. He knew I was in good hands and would be fine. Acting like a jerk was his way of showing me how normal and okay I was.
He only became considerate when people he cared about were in serious trouble. When he didn’t know what to do or if they would survive. “You want some water? A sandwich?” he asked, proving my point even further. There was a knock at the door. House limped over and cautiously peered outside. “Thanks,” he replied when Chase handed him a vial of blood. Robert also whispered something in Greg’s ear but I couldn’t hear what was being said. My friend grimaced and went back to making slides.
“Can we do the blood transfusion at home?” I begged, watching House’s face carefully. He frowned, but then nodded. “The loft is close. If we had to, you could rush me back here in five minutes. Especially if you get any brilliant ideas.”
“I just want to check one last thing,” he promised. He ran a CBC on both my blood and the blood from my patent. He frowned, slamming his fist into the desk when the computer spat out our test results a few minutes later.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, fearing the worst. House set up another slide. “Damn it, you can’t just ignore me like you do with your regular patients!” I shouted, weakly.
“Baby Bella might be feeling better because her body got a boost from the transfusion, but this thing is gobbling up the new blood too. It won’t last. We need to try something more drastic. If I don’t figure this out soon, she’s going to die.”
“Do you have any idea how terrifying this is for me? Don’t just be…glib—but don’t be too nice either.” I realized how stupid I sounded, and apologized. “Do you actually have a treatment in mind or are we spit balling?” I asked, glancing through the results from Elizabeth’s latest blood draw. “This is not porphyria. The infection is destroying everything. Her kidneys are showing signs of distress; her liver’s starting to fail…” My thoughts were cut short by the Hanson brothers crooning. House answered the phone, but covered his mouth, muffling the conversation. “House what’s going on?” I pounded the counter this time, slamming my fist down with all the strength my feeble body could muster.
“Her blood pressure just plummeted and she can barely breathe. They had to intubate her. Even the new blood is basically turning into poison. The bad blood circulates through her entire body, eating away at her heart, lungs, liver, kidney, intestines…everything.”
“Giving her more blood temporarily helped, but then it became infected too…oh god.” I felt my heart racing in terror, though it was probably starting to get damaged too. “That’s what going to happen to me. What about dialysis?”
“They just started her on it, but I’m not sure we’ll accomplish anything. It’s still early enough to do you some good, though.” I nodded, hiding my face from him. “If only we had the boy, maybe we could figure out what was keeping him from getting sick like her.” I nodded, weakly.
“Obviously he’s got this all worked out and whatever he’s doing that we’re not—we need to do that for you. And for the girl.”
“Maybe he’s sick too,” I suggested. “The disease progresses slowly. It took two weeks for her to deteriorate. I was only bitten…” I checked my watched. “Yesterday.” More than twenty four hours had passed since I was attacked. “Maybe a transfusion could still do me some good.”
“Did you hear me? This thing is the medical equivalent of a car with sugar in the gas tank. You can change the oil, replace the valves, but the car is still totaled. It just takes a while for the sugar to circulate through the engine and do enough damage to…” House grabbed his phone and dialed. Clearly he had an idea. Despite feeling terrified and furious, I was also grateful. Things were looking pretty bleak for Elizabeth and me. We needed him to have a House moment.
Author: mnstrtucrkslash
Summary: Wilson and a young girl both become very sick after being bitten by a teenager who calls himself a vampire (separate attacks, several weeks apart). House fights to identify his friend’s condition and to find a cure or treatment for both patients before it’s too late.
Rating: PG-13 for now, some violence and basic swearing, sexually suggestive but nothing overt or overly bad/ disturbing.
Characters: Greg House and James Wilson.
Warnings: Some OOC behavior, obviously alternate universe, bit of sci-fi/ supernatural elements with the vampire stuff (although I’m making it more a medical condition than mad men running around drinking blood or whatever. Technically, I see House and Wilson as being in a slash relationship, but you can look at it as a close friendship too.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to House, Wilson, or anything related to the show, and this medical disorder I’ve created is 100% my own fabrication. It should not be seen as a negative spin on any real condition/ me taking potshots at porphyria.
Additional Note: I was working on this yesterday but I didn't finish it until just now. Wow, two drabbles, the (probably) final chapter of Paper or Plastic, the snippet challenge, and now this. I have had a crazy busy day.
Words: (2,711 total, 1,333 in this chapter)
chapter one
“Very funny,” I complained, rolling my eyes. House ignored me, still fascinated by the supernatural elements of this case. It’s not like he was the one with a massive infection rampaging through his system. Why would he be worried? “You’d better come up with a real idea before I get as sick as Elizabeth.” He stared at me in confusion. “My patient. Her name is Elizabeth Haywood.”
“We can start your transfusion for now. Hopefully it’ll help. Whatever this is, it’s eating all your red blood cells. That’s why you’re so exhausted and pale. We’re going to have to find a more permanent solution for the future though: something easy to conceal, and simple—but effective—to use. We can’t keep you on an IV or central line the rest of your life, and we definitely don’t want you running off to drink a pint five times a day.” He sent another text to his team. “We’ll give the girl some blood too; see if it does any good.”
“So you’re suggesting, what? A nicotine patch but with blood in it? Don’t be ridiculous.” He chuckled. “You’re the last person I’d ever expect to believe in vampires. We’re missing something. Isn’t that what you always say? Unless you’re playing your worst prank ever, and my blood is fine.”
“This is not a prank.” House grabbed my chair, pulling it (and me) to his side. “Sorry, but you obviously don’t believe me. So look at this.” He took a few drops directly from the latest blood sample, prepared a slide, and placed it under the microscope. I gazed down the eye piece, and was shocked at what I saw. “You’ve done something to the sample. You must have. It’s barely been a day. Blood doesn’t deteriorate this quickly.”
I attempted to stand up after several hours sitting and resting. Suddenly, I felt myself swaying back, and forth. My vision grew blurry, and my whole body seemed heavy. I also felt incredibly nauseated. I knew I was about to pass out. Yet, when I awoke on the floor with House leaning over me, my first thought was, “how did I get here?” Greg helped me to my feet and then forced me into a chair.
“We should do the transfusion in your office for privacy sake. I don’t know how many pints I’ll be able to get my hands on without drawing suspicion, though. Hopefully it’ll be enough to keep you going until I come up with a better solution. “ House’s phone started to play MmmBop.
“My patient?” I croaked, as he read the message. “If I need blood, she does too. I know you had Foreman or Chase or somebody call the cops on her boyfriend but we can’t just let her die.”
“Already gave her a transfusion about an hour ago. Now she’s alert, bouncing around listening to music, and apparently tweeting. Chase just took another sample of her blood, which should be arriving right about—” He paused, looking towards the door. “Damn how cool would it be if I could predict things perfectly?”
“She can’t walk around the rest of her life with a blood in her purse just in case she starts feeling…like crap. God, I feel awful.” I moaned, clutching my temples. “We both need a long-term solution. A cure’d be fantastic but as far as I know whatever mutant version of porphyria…or whatever we’ve been infected with has never been documented. So, a cure is probably too much to ask for.”
“Taub, Foreman, and Thirteen are doing research—medical journals, old patient files…Google—as we speak.” House was being almost nice to me. Never a good sign. The night before I had to have my appendix taken out, Greg sat with me, going over stories about patients waking up during surgery, instruments being left inside people, all sorts of nasty stuff. He knew I was in good hands and would be fine. Acting like a jerk was his way of showing me how normal and okay I was.
He only became considerate when people he cared about were in serious trouble. When he didn’t know what to do or if they would survive. “You want some water? A sandwich?” he asked, proving my point even further. There was a knock at the door. House limped over and cautiously peered outside. “Thanks,” he replied when Chase handed him a vial of blood. Robert also whispered something in Greg’s ear but I couldn’t hear what was being said. My friend grimaced and went back to making slides.
“Can we do the blood transfusion at home?” I begged, watching House’s face carefully. He frowned, but then nodded. “The loft is close. If we had to, you could rush me back here in five minutes. Especially if you get any brilliant ideas.”
“I just want to check one last thing,” he promised. He ran a CBC on both my blood and the blood from my patent. He frowned, slamming his fist into the desk when the computer spat out our test results a few minutes later.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, fearing the worst. House set up another slide. “Damn it, you can’t just ignore me like you do with your regular patients!” I shouted, weakly.
“Baby Bella might be feeling better because her body got a boost from the transfusion, but this thing is gobbling up the new blood too. It won’t last. We need to try something more drastic. If I don’t figure this out soon, she’s going to die.”
“Do you have any idea how terrifying this is for me? Don’t just be…glib—but don’t be too nice either.” I realized how stupid I sounded, and apologized. “Do you actually have a treatment in mind or are we spit balling?” I asked, glancing through the results from Elizabeth’s latest blood draw. “This is not porphyria. The infection is destroying everything. Her kidneys are showing signs of distress; her liver’s starting to fail…” My thoughts were cut short by the Hanson brothers crooning. House answered the phone, but covered his mouth, muffling the conversation. “House what’s going on?” I pounded the counter this time, slamming my fist down with all the strength my feeble body could muster.
“Her blood pressure just plummeted and she can barely breathe. They had to intubate her. Even the new blood is basically turning into poison. The bad blood circulates through her entire body, eating away at her heart, lungs, liver, kidney, intestines…everything.”
“Giving her more blood temporarily helped, but then it became infected too…oh god.” I felt my heart racing in terror, though it was probably starting to get damaged too. “That’s what going to happen to me. What about dialysis?”
“They just started her on it, but I’m not sure we’ll accomplish anything. It’s still early enough to do you some good, though.” I nodded, hiding my face from him. “If only we had the boy, maybe we could figure out what was keeping him from getting sick like her.” I nodded, weakly.
“Obviously he’s got this all worked out and whatever he’s doing that we’re not—we need to do that for you. And for the girl.”
“Maybe he’s sick too,” I suggested. “The disease progresses slowly. It took two weeks for her to deteriorate. I was only bitten…” I checked my watched. “Yesterday.” More than twenty four hours had passed since I was attacked. “Maybe a transfusion could still do me some good.”
“Did you hear me? This thing is the medical equivalent of a car with sugar in the gas tank. You can change the oil, replace the valves, but the car is still totaled. It just takes a while for the sugar to circulate through the engine and do enough damage to…” House grabbed his phone and dialed. Clearly he had an idea. Despite feeling terrified and furious, I was also grateful. Things were looking pretty bleak for Elizabeth and me. We needed him to have a House moment.