A/N: First House fanfiction. Please be relatively nice. Criticism appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own House.
It wasn't the sun that woke Gregory House up, because the sun wasn't up yet. What woke him up was the insistent banging on his door, at two A.M. House covered his head with a pillow but the pounding continued.
"HOUSE!" he heard a familiar voice call. "OPEN THE DOOR!"
Now, House was upset. Why is Wilson waking me up in the middle of the night? He has a key! He thought. "USE YOUR KEY WILSON!" he shouted.
House waited a few moments and then was slightly surprised when he heard Wilson's response. "House… I can't…" Wilson answered. Now, House was curious and so, he dragged himself out of bed and to the door. He opened it, and was immediately shocked.
James Wilson was leaning against the doorframe, covered in a layer of cold sweat, his right arm cradling his left and his breathing short. "About time." He coughed.
For a moment, Wilson thought he saw concern dash across House's face, but as quickly as it had appeared it was gone. "What the hell is wrong with you? Get inside!" House ordered, "Are you high? Drunk? Did you drive here?"
Wilson shook his head feebly, collapsing onto House's couch. "How did you get here then?" House demanded.
"Walked." Wilson wheezed.
"YOU WALKED?" House exploded, "You could barely stand! Let alone walk anywhere! You id-" His rant was cut off.
"House…ambulance." Wilson gasped.
With amazing speed for a cripple, House reached his phone and waited impatiently for someone to answer. "Lisa Cuddy, Hospital Administrator." He told whoever was on the line. Catching Wilson's confused look, he explained, "She said she was working late tonight, which means she hasn't left yet, this will be faster." He tapped his left foot restlessly. "Cuddy?" He asked. "House. Ambulance my house. NOW." He waited a moment for her response, before he responded, "No… it's not me. It's not my leg!" he glanced at Wilson's face that was getting paler by the second. "Shit." He cursed, "Stay with me, DAMNIT. STAY WITH ME WILSON! DON'T YOU DARE PASS OUT ON ME JAMES!" He shouted, hoping the first name would keep Wilson awake.
On the other end of the line, Cuddy was confused. She had heard House scream, many times in fact, but not in that tone before. Suddenly the name registered. Oh. crap.
"Did you say Wilson?" she asked.
"YES. AMBULANCE!" He reminded, as he hung up. Glancing again at Wilson he realized that he was no longer hearing any gasps or wheezes. "Shit!" he swore again, tossing his cane away and limping over to Wilson. He knelt beside the couch. He placed his fingers on Wilson's neck, trying to get a pulse and put his ear to Wilson's slightly open mouth. The weak pulse scared House and he still wasn't getting any sound. Placing both hands on Wilson's chest he pumped fifteen times, and then tilted Wilson's head back breathing into his mouth, and carefully monitored the rises and falls of Wilson's chest.
Wilson's sharp intake of air indicated he was breathing on his own. "That's a scary sight." Wilson said hoarsely, as his eyes flickered open to see House bearing over him.
"Stop talking." House ordered, "Concentrate on breathing, so I never have to do that again, three deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth." Wilson did as he was told, and House finally heard the sounds of sirens racing down his street. Using the furniture to maneuver he made his way to the front door, opening it for the paramedics.
They rushed in, ignoring House completely as he watched them distrustfully, and lifted Wilson onto the gurney and back out to the ambulance. House shouted after the older-looking EMT, "Hey! I'm coming with!" He managed to grab his cane and scramble out of the apartment.
"There's no ramp." The EMT replied snottily, "It's not a cripples ride for free vehicle." He obviously knew House from somewhere. House glared at the man, swung his cane and hit the man in the calf, causing the EMT's leg to give out. It gave House just enough time to clamber onto the vehicle. Then House heard a funny noise, he immediately turned to face Wilson, and to his surprise Wilson was laughing, or trying to laugh. His breath was ragged and he began to cough, obviously struggling to breathe on his own.
Rolling his eyes, House grabbed the oxygen mask and ventilated, before the young paramedic had even noticed Wilson face change from chalk white to gray. Now, they were soaring down the road, sirens wailing, lights flashing, and House had some time to lecture Wilson.
"Where did you walk from? It was stupid. Have you been eating something different? What caused this? It was sudden, you were fine earlier. You're healthy. So… why this?"
Wilson shrugged, hissing as pain shot through his left arm and chest and muttered, "Chest…hurts…"
"That's kind of expected. You're having a heart attack."