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The Vampire's Apprentice	By : Evilida44 Category: G through L > House Views: 1787 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own House or its fandom nor do I make any money from it.

Chapter List
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Lisa Cuddy took a deep breath. So much needed to be done. House had, as usual, brought chaos to her meticulously organized life.
Cuddy followed a trail of blood down the stairs, through the foyer, out the door and down the walkway. It led to House's damaged and stolen SUV directly in front of her house. The presence of the SUV in front of her house would pinpoint Wilson's location to whoever had attacked him and was sure to attract the attention of Cuddy's neighbours.
The passenger door had been ripped off and the passenger seat was soaked in blood. The sharp metallic tang of blood made Cuddy's stomach turn over, even though her years in medicine should have made her used to it. How much blood had Wilson lost? Surely he could not survive such a blood loss without a transfusion.
Gregory House, however, had said that Wilson would live, and as House knew more about vampires than she did, he was probably right.
She couldn't leave Rachel alone in the house with two vampires, so disposing of the SUV properly would have to wait. All she had time to do was get it out of sight before her neighbours woke up and saw it. Fortunately, House had left the keys to the ignition, so she moved it into her garage and parked her car out on the street.
Cuddy was washing the blood from her walkway with a garden hose, when a police car pulled up. Her hands shook as she carefully put the hose down and walked towards the patrol car, meeting the officer as he stepped out of his car. He was in his early twenties, his boyish appearance offset by his serious manner.
""Hello, officer," she said, "I guess one of my neighbours called you about a little disturbance at my house a little earlier. I'm Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."
She put out her hand to shake, but the policeman did not take it.
"That's right, ma'am," he said. "We had a report of a possible break and enter."
"That was me. I'd accidentally locked myself out of my own home with my daughter inside. I could hear her crying and I was desperate to get to her. I had to break in, which was what the neighbours saw."
"They said someone kicked the door down," the policeman said, looking at the gap where the door used to be. Then he looked at Cuddy. His gaze travelled down to the impractical black stilettos she was wearing. "Was that you?"
"No, it wasn't," Cuddy said. "A man in an SUV pulled over when he saw that I was in distress. I told him that I was locked out, and he said he'd help. I thought he would phone a locksmith on his cellphone, or maybe break a window, but before I realized what he was going to do, he kicked down the door."
The policeman looked at her without any expression on his face, which was somehow more disquieting than open disbelief.
"Let's see some identification," he said.
Cuddy headed back to the house and the policeman followed her a few steps behind. Her heart raced, and she struggled to contain her panic. The policeman was sure to spot the pool of blood by the door. However, there was no blood in the foyer, just a few barely noticeable stains in the hardwood floor where the blood had had time to soak into the wood. She looked up and saw House at the top of the stairs, a bloody piece of cloth in his hands, and then he turned around the corner and was gone.

"I don't think he believed me," Cuddy told House, "but he couldn't prove I was lying so he had to leave."
"Good."
She had expected House to be at Wilson's bedside, tending to their patient, but House was sitting at her desk in front of her laptop computer. Cuddy glanced at the screen, then strode across the room and slammed the laptop shut.
"You're looking at hospital personnel files. How did you get in? Those are supposed to be private!"
"If you wanted them to be private," House said reasonably, "then you shouldn't have written your password on the underside of your mouse pad. Nipples. Your nickname in high school?"
"That`s Nibbles, the name of the gerbil I had when I was five. What were you looking for?" Cuddy asked.
"Thirteen`s current address," House said, "but the only address listed for her is Foreman`s old place."
"She's no longer employed by the hospital," Cuddy said. "Thirteen was fired months ago. She's threatening to launch a wrongful dismissal suit against us, though our lawyers say she doesn't have a chance of succeeding.
Why do you want her address? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Just promise me that I won't see her on the news as Princeton's latest homicide victim."
"I can't promise that. I'm not the only vampire looking for her."
"Don't tell me that there are more of you out there!"
At the sound of her raised voice, Wilson's eyelids flickered and his shallow painful respiration quickened. Wilson gasped and sputtered, emerging from the dreamless depths of unconsciousness like a diver coming up for air. Cuddy took a step towards Wilson, reaching out to calm him, but House stepped between them.
"Don't touch him," he said to Cuddy," don't startle him, and don't raise your voice. He's hurt and hungry and in pain and that makes him unpredictable. A vampire is at his most dangerous when he's vulnerable."
His voice was stern. He glanced at Cuddy, his brilliant blue eyes as cold as icicles, then turned all his attention to Wilson. Cuddy could feel herself blushing like a chastised child.
House leaned over the other vampire. Cuddy caught the word "safe" repeated several times, but the rest of what he said was too low for her to hear. The words seemed to have an effect because Wilson's laboured breathing eased and his eyes closed. .
When House turned back to Cuddy, she was standing by the bedroom door, holding her laptop in front of her like a shield.
"I want you both gone tomorrow, even if you have to carry him out on a stretcher," she said.
She shut the door behind her.

Cuddy leaned against the door, holding back tears. She almost never cried and she didn't understand why she crying now. House was out of her life. She had Lucas now. Why did House still have the power to hurt her?
She wished that she could despise House, but she couldn't. House still loved her and as long as he was capable of loving her, she knew that something human and good remained in him. She wished that she could somehow reverse the process that had transformed him into a vampire and rescue him from Wilson's corrupting influence.
Cuddy composed herself. She did not have the time to indulge in emotions. There was still too much to do. She had to call a handyman about fixing the broken door, dispose of Wilson's bloody and ripped clothes, call the hospital and tell them she'd be late, find out how to remove soaked- in bloodstains from hardwood floors ...Cuddy suppressed an hysterical giggle.
First, Cuddy locked the door to her spare bedroom/office. The locked door was not to keep House and Wilson in, but to keep everyone else out. Her house began to fill with people. First the handyman arrived, lured out of bed by the promise of double his usual fee if he would do the job immediately, then the housekeeper and then Rachel's babysitter. To each in turn, she repeated her story about how the door had been damaged. No one doubted her version of events.
By the time Lucas returned, disappointed after his wasted trip to Newark airport, she'd regained her confidence. She had practiced telling her story so often that she almost believed it herself. Lucas didn't ask her any questions, but something told her that he didn't quite believe her. Lucas was a private investigator. He could usually tell when people were lying to him.
"I'm exhausted," she said to Lucas. "I couldn't sleep at all last night knowing that anyone could just walk into the house. I'm going to take the morning off work and go back to bed. You must be tired too. Why don't you join me?
With his acute vampiric hearing, House could hear every whispered endearment, every moan of pleasure. He growled, low and deep in his chest. He could, if he wanted, rip through the flimsy wall that separated him from Lucas. He could rip out his rival's throat with his teeth, tear him to shreds with his talon-like nails, gulp down every ounce of his blood until he dried up and blew away.
The growl, which signified danger, woke Wilson up instantly.
"Not now," Wilson said quietly, each syllable he spoke visibly causing him pain. "Too many people around."
"Later," House said.
Wilson nodded. He propped himself up against the headboard. House turned away from him, unable to tolerate the sympathy he saw in Wilson's soft brown eyes.
The sounds of love-making were mercifully interrupted by Rachel's unhappy wail, telling the world that she was hungry and alone. There was a creak of bedsprings as Cuddy got up to tend to her.
House kicked off his running shoes, and still fully dressed, climbed into bed. Wilson inched closer, and House gently took him into his arms. With House's strong arms around him, breathing in the scent of his body, Wilson felt safe at last. House was there to watch over him and protect him. Wilson relaxed into his lover's arms, shut his eyes, and fell into a deep healing sleep almost instantly.
It was a few minutes before sunset. Lucas had gone to work, Rachel was napping, and the house was quiet. Cuddy knocked on the door to the spare bedroom, mindful of House's warning not to startle a vampire.
House was once again sitting at her desk, this time leafing through an old issue of a medical journal. He clothes were rumpled and he looked as if he had not slept at all.
Wilson was still in bed. When Cuddy entered the room, he sat up, wincing slightly. His movements were still slow and careful and he was very pale, but he was in astonishingly good shape for someone who had been near death only twelve hours before.
She tossed a plastic bag on to the bed.
"I bought you some new clothes. Nothing you had on was salvageable. Get dressed. Then I'll drive you both back to New York."
Wilson pulled a t-shirt out of the bag. Purchased from the hospital gift shop, it carried the slogan "It's a boy!" and a picture of a cartoon stork carrying a bundle. There was also a pair of grey sweatpants, tube socks and a pair of underpants, all still wrapped in plastic.
"Thank you for the clothes, but we don't need a ride into the city. We can make our own way back."
"Your SUV is missing a door and the passenger seat is covered with blood. You'll be stopped by the police."
"We can hitchhike or steal another car," Wilson said. "You really don't have to give us a ride."
House didn't waste time being tactful.
"What Wilson means is that he's lost a lot of blood, and he's hungry, and he's going to have to go hunting very soon. And he doesn't think you want to be anywhere in the vicinity when that happens."
Cuddy nodded, suddenly feeling sick. By saving Wilson's life, she'd condemned an innocent person to death.
"Fine. Where can I drop you off?"

House sat by the window, and Wilson sat next to the driver. Wilson looked uncomfortable. He wished the guy would stop talking He didn't like knowing too much about the people he was going to kill. It was so much easier when his prey was an anonymous stranger.
The driver moved to adjust the volume on the radio, and his hand brushed against Wilson's leg for the third time. Wilson moved over a few inches, giving the driver more room, and then realized that the driver was coming on to him. If Wilson had been his old human self, he would have known that at least twenty-five miles ago, but since he'd become a vampire he'd lost a little of his ability to read people.
The driver looked at Wilson in the rear view mirror, and Wilson met his eyes for two significant seconds before demurely dropping his gaze.
"There's a rest stop just up ahead," the driver said, putting on his left turn signal and moving to the outside lane. "Got to take a leak."
"Me too," Wilson said.
House got out of the truck to let Wilson pass by. Wilson was trembling. Nerves.
House gave them two minutes before following them into the darkness, which was more than enough time. If Wilson hadn't killed the driver by then, he'd kill the man himself and force Wilson to drink, proper vampire etiquette be damned.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Wilson with his victim. The driver was still alive, his head cradled on Wilson's lap. Tidily, Wilson had spread the driver's jacket over his legs, to avoid getting blood on his clothes. House knelt down to take his share of the kill. As Wilson's protector, he was entitled to at least half of Wilson's kill, but House seldom took more than a token mouthful of blood.
"I've had enough," House said. "You can have the rest."
While Wilson drank, House took the victim's wallet from the pocket of his jeans. Even with his superior vampire eyesight, it was so dark beneath the trees that he could barely make out the man's name on his driver's license. He removed his money from the wallet but left everything else.
Wilson, watching over his shoulder, had noticed a photo in the wallet – a picture of the driver, looking quite a few years younger, standing next to a woman and child.
"He was a devoted husband and father," Wilson said.
"Not that devoted a husband, since he wanted to go off into the bushes with you," House said.
He stood up, and offered Wilson his hand. Wilson moved his victim's head from his lap, took House's hand, and let House pull him to his feet. House strode purposefully back to the truck and Wilson dawdled uncertainly after him. House climbed into the cab of the semi. He had never driven one before, but he was sure it would be easy. He'd pick it up as he went along.
House spent much of the drive back to New York questioning Wilson about his staking. He made him recall every detail of that night and repeat every word that Thirteen and the red-headed vampire had said. The whole humiliating and painful evening was one that Wilson would very much like to forget, but House would not let him. Wilson was exhausted and thoroughly fed up with House`s cross- examination.
Wilson went to bed as soon as they got back home, but House stayed up for hours. His mind was much too busy to let him sleep and he paced their shoebox-sized apartment like a caged tiger. It was almost noon when he finally went to bed. Still unable to sleep, House stared out into the darkness and listened to Wilson breathe. Each breath was shallow, painful and infinitely precious to House.
He'd lost Cuddy, but Wilson was still his, the only thing he possessed that still mattered to him. Thirteen and the red-haired girl had tried to take him away. House`s vampire nature cried out for vengeance.
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The Vampire's Apprentice