This is my very first story so I hope that it is not awful. I am open to any constructive criticism. I have enjoyed reading many of your stories and thought it was time to try one on my own. Let me know what you think. I am already working on the next part, but need to know it is worth continuing...Thanks for taking the time to read and review...

Wilson was sitting at his desk catching up on some paperwork. He heard thumping on the wall again. He figured that House was throwing his ball at the wall again while trying to think of a solution for his most recent case. He would yell to him to stop, but he knew that House probably had his Ipod on and all that he would accomplish was annoying himself and other people that would hear him. He tried to go back to his work, but that noise was annoying, like the incessant dripping of a leaky faucet. He noticed that it was louder than the usual muffled soft thump of the ball and didn't have the same methodical rhythm that he could mimic in his sleep from the countless times that he had heard it. It was different in some way, more purposeful, louder, more irregular without a pattern. Now, he actually strained as he tried to listen to it, but just as suddenly as it had started it stopped. That was just like House to find a way to annoy him without even being in the same room.

He figured that House must have gotten an idea or would be in shortly to talk to him to help spark the answer that he was trying to find as he had done so many times before. He half expected House to barge in or to at least hear his distinct thump step walking pattern as House tore off down the hall. Instead, it was quiet. Eerily quiet. Then he tried to remember the last time he had seen House's ducklings. He hadn't seen them today. He looked at the clock on his cell phone that was sitting on his desk. Almost lunch time. Then he thought again and remembered that House must have sent them all down to the clinic because they didn't actually have a case right now. They had all stayed last night and solved it before going home. Now, he thought back to the thumping on the wall as he felt the pit in his stomach grow. If House had no case, why would he be throwing the ball to find an answer. It didn't make sense. Now he was curious. He was just about to go next door to see what was going on with House when Nurse Brenda walked in and said that -one of his patients was asking for him. Oh well, his curiosity would have to wait. He walked out the door and was down the hall as his forgotten cell phone vibrated on his desk.


House lay on the floor of his office. He was where no one could see him as he was hidden by his desk and the only one that probably knew he was here was Wilson because they had ridden in together. Wilson had a meeting that was going to keep him late tonight so he wasn't in a rush to get in this morning and had waited to ride in with him. He hadn't seen Cuddy this morning and his ducklings were taking care of the clinic duty so he wasn't on her radar right now. He couldn't believe that he was so stupid and careless. It wasn't like him. He was always so careful especially when it came to his leg. Wilson would never let him live this down. He had tripped on his own cane. He had gotten up and was just turning around to get something off the shelf behind him when he tripped over his cane and fell to the ground. Of course, he hadn't just fallen, that would have been way too simple and just not his way. He had grabbed onto his desk chair to try to steady himself, but that only succeeded in helping him to get more tangled and causing him to hit his right leg right into the corner of a drawer that was sticking out of the file cabinet next to his desk before he landed on the floor with a thud, with his wrist taking the majority of his weight. He has always thought that filing was bad for his health, but now it really was, literally. He somehow managed not to howl out in pain as he was so surprised at what was actually happening. He thought about all of the things that had to have happened for him to land in this situation and thought that it just figured. He looked down at his wrist and realized that it was going to hurt a lot very shortly. He grabbed at his right leg with his hands so that he could draw the angry leg up closer and try to rub out the jolt of pain that was surging through the bruised leg. He was met with the sad realization that he was right. His wrist was going to hurt a lot, but it wasn't going to be in a little while, it was going to be right now. He pulled it away and brought it close to his body trying not to move it while he held his breath and waited for the pain to level out. Now not only was his wrist screaming, but his leg had fallen back to the ground in a very uncontrolled motion as he pulled back his wrist in pain and neither of these damamaged extremities was about to let him forget.

House knew he was really in a mess. He tried the best he could with only his left hand to pull up his right leg so that he could get his left hand to a place that might actually be of some help to massage it. It was no use, he dropped his head back closed his eyes and gritted his teeth together. He started to yell for Wilson but realized that the door was closed as he always kept it. He never wanted the office to look too inviting so that people wouldn't just drop in uninvited and he would be forced to carry on a worthless conversation, and it would be much harder to get away with napping if the door was open, even if it was a glass door. Now he was longing for someone, anyone, to walk in unannounced and help him put an end to the agonizing pain.

The phone was on the other end of the desk definetly out of reach. He thought about pulling the office phone down by it's cord, but then he had visions of the phone hitting him in the head or somewhere else that would further injur him and he thought better. The way this morning was going, he decided he shouldn't be counting on any favos. He looked around and thought that he was close enough that he might be able to get Wilson's attention by throwing his ball at the wall. The ball sat on the floor about 2 feet away, obviously having been disrupted from it's normal perch on his desk by his less than graceful decent to the hard cold floor. He looked around for something to get the ball. Then he saw the polished piece of wood by his foot. He reached his cane and was able to slowly pull the ball to him after a few attempts. Next problem with this was that House was not left handed thereby, not as coordinated with his non-dominated hand to throw so he would throw it hard against the wall and then the ball would roll away. He kept this up for a few times, then realized that this was not working. He wasn't sure that Wilson could hear it or would even notice as he knew that Wilson often heard his ball on his wall when he was throwing it while thinking. He had to think of something else. He tried to reach out with the cane to tap at the wall and that seemed to work, but it was too far and he didn't have enough strength at the angle he was in and using his left hand he wasn't very effective. He didn't hear any rustling in Wilson's office so he stopped.

He needed to think. Then it struck him. It was pretty obvious. Any sane person in this situation would use their phone to call for help. House reached his left hand into his left pocket, but of course the phone wasn't there, it was in the other pocket. After a minute of trying to get his left hand into his right pocket, he bit down on his lip and took his right hand out of it's protective hold. He braced it on his leg the best he could as now he was starting to tremble from the pain and started the task of getting his long fingers to inch their way to the pocket and try to snake the phone out. Luckily, the pants were loose on him due to his recent bout of the stomach bug. He managed to get the phone out after a few minutes. He let out a breath that he didn't realize that he had even been holding. He flipped it open knowing full well that the battery needed to be charged this morning when he had left the house and unsure if there was enough battery power to make the call that he needed so desperately to make. He pressed speed dial #1 and waited for Wilson to answer. He didn't hear the phone ringing next door. Wilson's phone must be on vibrate, or it was ringing, but Wilson wasn't next door. Either way it meant that he wasn't going to be getting help right away. He could feel the cold of the floor and the heaviness of his aching body. He sighed in exhaustion. He left a few word message because the sound of his shaky pain filled voice had surprised even him. His leg wasn't going to let him have many more chances at this. He decided to swallow his pride and call one of his ducklings, but just at that time, his phone battery died. He threw his phone angrily across the room in disbelief. He tried to grab his leg to help the pain, but wasn't able to get relief. He rolled onto his side to put pressure on the leg, and because he felt that sensation in his throat as the bile was beginning to back up and he knew that he would soon be retching from the pain. He wasn't sure how long he would be there before he was found. He knew that it must be close to lunch time and hoped that Wilson would come look for him. But he knew better. It was him that looked for Wilson everyday. Wilson might just like the idea of getting to eat his lunch, actually getting to eat everything that he had bought. House curled himself into the fetal position. He looked at his wrist which was giving his leg some good competition, and was actually glad that it hurt so much because it actually may have saved him from passing out from the unrelenting pain in this leg.

So again, this is my first attempt at this, so be gentle, but let me know what you think. I have part 2 started, but will stop if you guys don't think it's worth it...