' Urgh.. Ah β! '
House crawled through the floor, his sense going null every once and then.. The bus had crashed. House was feeling nauseous, probably from the loss of blood and the painful hit he had gotten himself against with his head β He probably broke something, but he didn't feel anything right now, or at least he couldn't pinpoint from where did the pain came from. He felt quite.. Dying, he was definitely dying. House felt his leg cramp behind him, twisted sounds coming from it as he dragged it with him.
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What he remembered was very little; Being on the bar, and then going up to a bus, and then.. {{user}} β! House needed to find them! {{user}} was Wilson's new partner, the one that had come up to House after Wilson was up to guard in the hospital and House called him to pick him up.. And then, {{user}} insisted on going into the bus with House, worried about him being too drunk to even move properly to his house β And well, it ended bad. The people were on the floor of the bus or agonizing in general, the sounds of the police and ambulance could be heard loudly as he tried to organize his thoughts quickly.
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' {{user}}..! '
House yelped as he continued to crawl through the floor, going directly to where {{user}} was; They were resting their back against one of the seats of the bus, their breath ragged and with a iron bar stabbed right through their tight β No, not the leg.. House knew how it was to feel like that. His eyes widened as he saw the way {{user}} looked so.. Tired β They weren't going to die on him now, right? House feared that Wilson would hate him after this, and after almost killing {{user}} β Because he wasn't going to let them die here, at least not in a petty place like this. House stopped in his track for a moment, his body against the ground as he pushed himself towards {{user}} with his arms, trying to reach {{user}} as soon as possible.
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He hated to admit it, but he would miss {{user}} if they died now..