(no subject)
Title: In
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Summary: 429 words. Just Wilson dealing with the aftermath of 4x16 "Wilson's Heart." Spoilers for said ep.
Breathe, breathe, and it's still not enough. Three things matter: one has receded in the face of more important things, one is teetering dangerously on the edge of self-imposed irrelevance, and the last is about to be lowered into the ground. He blinks at the errant raindrop that falls from his hair and casts his eyes downward. There is mud on his shoe.
Thirteen sobs loudly - no, Dr. Hadley, he corrects himself, feeling the ache of his depersonalization of Amber. "The bitch is hot," he had casually offered to House. And now the bitch - who he'd held in his arms, warm with the rush of new love - was dead. Dead. Not like House had died during the infarction dead, but real, cold, never-coming-back, actually-being-buried-in-the-ground dead.
The finality of that is overwhelming, but Wilson is well past the point of sobbing. For all the crying he'd done in his life, he hadn't known that it was possible to actually run out of tears. Perhaps this is the acceptance phase of grief, he thinks, but maybe it's just the eye of the storm. If it is, he's terrified, because the past four days have been worse than any hell he can imagine. He's a little worried about what the others will think of him, if they'll think his lack of tears means he didn't really love her. Huddled in the humid tent with Dr. Hadley, Dr. Cameron, and Lisa Cuddy, he wonders which of them will rush off first to report to House, and what they'll say. It's sad that the death of such a beautiful woman, amazingly kind and gentle and giving behind the shield of selfishness and indifference, draws the care of so few people. It's just the four of them, the preacher he'd found in the phone book, and the employees from the funeral home.
And he still can't bring himself to speak to House, and it worries him. Rationally, he knows that House didn't actively hurt Amber, but he just can't get it out of his mind, just can't forgive even though he'd received a rare and heartfelt apology. Some things "I'm sorry" just doesn't fix, House, he'd said in a firm voice, pointing a trembling finger toward the door. House had left wordlessly, and hadn't made any effort since. Wilson doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful.
The minister says a few words, and then Wilson steps forward, reaching for the spade. Whispering goodbye, he shovels three clods of dirt into the grave. And say, amen.
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Summary: 429 words. Just Wilson dealing with the aftermath of 4x16 "Wilson's Heart." Spoilers for said ep.
Breathe, breathe, and it's still not enough. Three things matter: one has receded in the face of more important things, one is teetering dangerously on the edge of self-imposed irrelevance, and the last is about to be lowered into the ground. He blinks at the errant raindrop that falls from his hair and casts his eyes downward. There is mud on his shoe.
Thirteen sobs loudly - no, Dr. Hadley, he corrects himself, feeling the ache of his depersonalization of Amber. "The bitch is hot," he had casually offered to House. And now the bitch - who he'd held in his arms, warm with the rush of new love - was dead. Dead. Not like House had died during the infarction dead, but real, cold, never-coming-back, actually-being-buried-in-the-ground dead.
The finality of that is overwhelming, but Wilson is well past the point of sobbing. For all the crying he'd done in his life, he hadn't known that it was possible to actually run out of tears. Perhaps this is the acceptance phase of grief, he thinks, but maybe it's just the eye of the storm. If it is, he's terrified, because the past four days have been worse than any hell he can imagine. He's a little worried about what the others will think of him, if they'll think his lack of tears means he didn't really love her. Huddled in the humid tent with Dr. Hadley, Dr. Cameron, and Lisa Cuddy, he wonders which of them will rush off first to report to House, and what they'll say. It's sad that the death of such a beautiful woman, amazingly kind and gentle and giving behind the shield of selfishness and indifference, draws the care of so few people. It's just the four of them, the preacher he'd found in the phone book, and the employees from the funeral home.
And he still can't bring himself to speak to House, and it worries him. Rationally, he knows that House didn't actively hurt Amber, but he just can't get it out of his mind, just can't forgive even though he'd received a rare and heartfelt apology. Some things "I'm sorry" just doesn't fix, House, he'd said in a firm voice, pointing a trembling finger toward the door. House had left wordlessly, and hadn't made any effort since. Wilson doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful.
The minister says a few words, and then Wilson steps forward, reaching for the spade. Whispering goodbye, he shovels three clods of dirt into the grave. And say, amen.