House M.D. stuffs
So I'm all sick and feverish, and my mind refuses to work well. I wanted to give you a longer chapter, I really did. I've got all these ideas, but I just can't seem to find the words right now. Hopefully once I'm healthy I can give you all massive dose of this crazy story.
Title: Delicate
Chapter: Travailler Moins, Rêver Plus (twenty-one)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Last Chapter
“You don’t have to stay here anymore.” Wilson was walking through the living room on his way to the bedroom. He glanced at 13, but otherwise showed no notice of her. “I’m going back to the hospital to stay with House, so you can...you know, go home, or whatever.” He heard her stool scrape across the floor as she got up, heard light, hesitant footsteps walking towards him. “Thanks for all your help, tonight,” he told her as he opened the closet, retrieving a duffle bag. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
She was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, head down. 13 didn’t mind that Wilson wasn’t looking at her as he took clothing out of a drawer and put it into the bag - she preferred it. “If it wasn’t for me, House wouldn’t have gone missing to begin with. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said sincerely, looking at her for the first time since he had walked in the door. “I don’t blame you.”
“You should,” she insisted, looking up hesitantly, “I would. I do.”
He shook his head and zipped the bag shut before walking up to her. He put his hands on his shoulders. “Look, when I’m with House, I get tired too. I sleep. He sleeps. I’ve always told him to wake me up the minute he does. But he likes his independence. There’s still some of the rebellious old House in there. Sometimes I wake up and he‘s trying to cook. One time, he broke a glass and almost cut his foot on it. These things can’t always be avoided. He’s a human being, and so are you. No one’s perfect.”
“I just...” she shook her head, “I can’t believe I let this happen.”
He sighed, “You didn’t let anything happen. It just did. Now I have to go do something. Will you take this bag to the hospital for me? Make sure it gets to House’s room. I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“What are you-“ she finally looked up at him.
“I don’t want to tell you,” he handed her the bag, “just in case.”
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“Dr. Cuddy?”
“This is she.”
“I’m worried.”
“Who is this?”
“Dr. Hadley.”
“What’s bothering you, Dr. Hadley?”
“Wilson. He went somewhere. I don’t know where. He said he didn’t want to tell me where, ‘just in case’.”
“What do you mean? I thought he was going home to get a few things?”
“He did. He gave them to me and asked me to deliver them. Then he said he was going somewhere and would be about an hour. He wouldn’t tell me where.”
“I see. Well, the thing is Dr. Hadley, sometimes in circumstances such as these, it’s best not to know the answer.”
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The road away behind Wilson’s car. Lights flashed by him. Other cars honked as he cut them off. And still Wilson refused to slow down. He needed answers, and if House was incapable of giving them, he would go to the source. He would beat the answers out of those college kids if he had to. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got - so that by the time he arrived at the frat house, he was seething. The wheels of the car screeched as he pulled up to the curb and slammed on the breaks, flinging himself out of the car. Since the door of the house was open, he let himself.
Loud music assaulted his ear drums as he walked through the door. A large throng of people ignored his presence. He walked up to a girl standing by the stereo, in her bra and skirt made of a towel. She smiled at him before holding out a plastic cup with an unknown liquid. “Aren’t you a little old to be here?” she hiccupped and giggled at him, leaning more heavily on the stereo.
“No,” he told her. “I was just wondering if you saw an ambulance here?”
“Oh yeah!” she was surprised by her memory. “There was one here! But that was, like, forever ago. Out back.” She pointed through the back wall of the house and some of her drink spilled over the edge and onto Wilson’s shoes. “Woops! Sorry!!”
“It’s okay,” he pushed past her and cut through a small room that took him out the back of the house. The building was filled with people, and he swore someone grabbed his ass at some point. He wasn’t sure what he had been hoping to find in the back yard, but whatever it was, it wasn’t there. There were a few guys passed out on lawn chairs, but one of the men lolling around was awake.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Were you guys back here when an ambulance came for someone?”
“Yeah, man. It was nuts.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, “And what exactly happened?”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Cuddy was sitting in her office when 13 came in, a duffle bag in her hand. “Hey, thought I’d bring this to you. House isn’t in emergency anymore?”
Cuddy shook her head. “No. I had him moved to a private room. I thought he...Wilson might appreciate it.”
“I’m sure he does.” She dropped the duffle bag onto an arm chair. “House is okay, right?”
“He should be. Yes. His alcohol levels were outrageously high.”
“His...what?”
“So you didn’t know anything about that, then?”
“I’m sorry,” 13 brushed her hair out of her face, “but, are you accusing me of giving him access to alcohol? I know he’s on methadone, I know how dangerous that can be for him.”
“I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I’m just asking.”
“Dr. Wilson doesn’t blame me for this.”
“I don’t blame you for it either.”
“No, but you want to.” 13 turned to leave the room before spinning back around. “I don’t know what idea you’ve cooked up, but I only ever had House’s best interests at heart. I would never intentionally put him in danger.” She left the room before Cuddy could reply.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chase’s arm was wrapped around Cameron’s waist as they waited for the nurse to look up House’s room. “193.” She grinned at them, “So I guess he’s accepting more visitors, now?”
“You could say that,” Chase told her, pulling Cameron towards the room.
“Do you think he’s going to be alright?” she asked him as he directed her down the hallway.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to Cuddy. I thought you called her though?”
“I wanted to,” she said as they walked up to the glass door. The blinds were drawn shut and they couldn’t see inside. “But I was driving. I figured I would find out when we got here.” She pushed the door open, and let out a gasp when she saw House on the bed. Chase released her and she hurried over to hold out a bowl just in time to catch the vomit.
House looked up at Chase sadly and wiped his mouth on his arm. “I don...ugh...” He groaned and leaned back on his pillow, shifting his blanket around.
“You okay buddy?” Chase filled a cup with some water while Cameron went to dump the contents of the bowl down the sink. House took the cup with a shaky hand and sipped down some of the cool liquid before shaking his head. When he didn’t respond, Chase frowned. “What’s wrong?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why aren’t you talking?”
House shook his head again. “No. Should-“
Cuddy cut him off when she walked into the room. “His speech patterns are still a little off. We told him just to rest for now.”
“What do you mean, off?” Cameron asked, walking out of the bathroom.
“No one’s told you?” Cuddy walked over to the end of the bed and pulled off the chart, handing it to Cameron. “Incoherent speech, vomiting, seizures. I think it’s a result of the high BAL and methadone mixing. I would pump his stomach, but it seems that it’s working through his system.”
“But his liver...” Cameron said, flipping through the chart.
“I know, I thought of that, too,” Cuddy said, moving closer to House and putting a hand on his forehead. “But he’s thrown up at least 6 times since he got here, and he was covered in vomit when he came in. There’s no food in his vomit now, which means he must have thrown up a fair amount. He probably got a lot of the alcohol out that way.” She patted his hair back and smiled down at him. “Are you happy that Chase and Cameron are he to visit?”
He nodded slowly, but looked at the door.
“What is it House?” Cameron put the chart back at the end of the bed.
“I wan my...”
“You want something?”
He nodded and looked at the door again.
“You want to go for a walk?” Cuddy asked him.
He shook his head and let out a long stream of air. “Ugh...my...my...” he pointed at the dresser.
“There’s nothing in the dresser, House.”
“Guh!” He was frustrated and looked out the window, choosing to ignore them all.
“I think he wants Wilson,” 13 told them from the doorway
Next Chapter
Title: Delicate
Chapter: Travailler Moins, Rêver Plus (twenty-one)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Last Chapter
“You don’t have to stay here anymore.” Wilson was walking through the living room on his way to the bedroom. He glanced at 13, but otherwise showed no notice of her. “I’m going back to the hospital to stay with House, so you can...you know, go home, or whatever.” He heard her stool scrape across the floor as she got up, heard light, hesitant footsteps walking towards him. “Thanks for all your help, tonight,” he told her as he opened the closet, retrieving a duffle bag. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
She was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, head down. 13 didn’t mind that Wilson wasn’t looking at her as he took clothing out of a drawer and put it into the bag - she preferred it. “If it wasn’t for me, House wouldn’t have gone missing to begin with. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said sincerely, looking at her for the first time since he had walked in the door. “I don’t blame you.”
“You should,” she insisted, looking up hesitantly, “I would. I do.”
He shook his head and zipped the bag shut before walking up to her. He put his hands on his shoulders. “Look, when I’m with House, I get tired too. I sleep. He sleeps. I’ve always told him to wake me up the minute he does. But he likes his independence. There’s still some of the rebellious old House in there. Sometimes I wake up and he‘s trying to cook. One time, he broke a glass and almost cut his foot on it. These things can’t always be avoided. He’s a human being, and so are you. No one’s perfect.”
“I just...” she shook her head, “I can’t believe I let this happen.”
He sighed, “You didn’t let anything happen. It just did. Now I have to go do something. Will you take this bag to the hospital for me? Make sure it gets to House’s room. I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“What are you-“ she finally looked up at him.
“I don’t want to tell you,” he handed her the bag, “just in case.”
--------------------------------------------------------
“Dr. Cuddy?”
“This is she.”
“I’m worried.”
“Who is this?”
“Dr. Hadley.”
“What’s bothering you, Dr. Hadley?”
“Wilson. He went somewhere. I don’t know where. He said he didn’t want to tell me where, ‘just in case’.”
“What do you mean? I thought he was going home to get a few things?”
“He did. He gave them to me and asked me to deliver them. Then he said he was going somewhere and would be about an hour. He wouldn’t tell me where.”
“I see. Well, the thing is Dr. Hadley, sometimes in circumstances such as these, it’s best not to know the answer.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The road away behind Wilson’s car. Lights flashed by him. Other cars honked as he cut them off. And still Wilson refused to slow down. He needed answers, and if House was incapable of giving them, he would go to the source. He would beat the answers out of those college kids if he had to. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got - so that by the time he arrived at the frat house, he was seething. The wheels of the car screeched as he pulled up to the curb and slammed on the breaks, flinging himself out of the car. Since the door of the house was open, he let himself.
Loud music assaulted his ear drums as he walked through the door. A large throng of people ignored his presence. He walked up to a girl standing by the stereo, in her bra and skirt made of a towel. She smiled at him before holding out a plastic cup with an unknown liquid. “Aren’t you a little old to be here?” she hiccupped and giggled at him, leaning more heavily on the stereo.
“No,” he told her. “I was just wondering if you saw an ambulance here?”
“Oh yeah!” she was surprised by her memory. “There was one here! But that was, like, forever ago. Out back.” She pointed through the back wall of the house and some of her drink spilled over the edge and onto Wilson’s shoes. “Woops! Sorry!!”
“It’s okay,” he pushed past her and cut through a small room that took him out the back of the house. The building was filled with people, and he swore someone grabbed his ass at some point. He wasn’t sure what he had been hoping to find in the back yard, but whatever it was, it wasn’t there. There were a few guys passed out on lawn chairs, but one of the men lolling around was awake.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Were you guys back here when an ambulance came for someone?”
“Yeah, man. It was nuts.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, “And what exactly happened?”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. Cuddy was sitting in her office when 13 came in, a duffle bag in her hand. “Hey, thought I’d bring this to you. House isn’t in emergency anymore?”
Cuddy shook her head. “No. I had him moved to a private room. I thought he...Wilson might appreciate it.”
“I’m sure he does.” She dropped the duffle bag onto an arm chair. “House is okay, right?”
“He should be. Yes. His alcohol levels were outrageously high.”
“His...what?”
“So you didn’t know anything about that, then?”
“I’m sorry,” 13 brushed her hair out of her face, “but, are you accusing me of giving him access to alcohol? I know he’s on methadone, I know how dangerous that can be for him.”
“I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I’m just asking.”
“Dr. Wilson doesn’t blame me for this.”
“I don’t blame you for it either.”
“No, but you want to.” 13 turned to leave the room before spinning back around. “I don’t know what idea you’ve cooked up, but I only ever had House’s best interests at heart. I would never intentionally put him in danger.” She left the room before Cuddy could reply.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chase’s arm was wrapped around Cameron’s waist as they waited for the nurse to look up House’s room. “193.” She grinned at them, “So I guess he’s accepting more visitors, now?”
“You could say that,” Chase told her, pulling Cameron towards the room.
“Do you think he’s going to be alright?” she asked him as he directed her down the hallway.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to Cuddy. I thought you called her though?”
“I wanted to,” she said as they walked up to the glass door. The blinds were drawn shut and they couldn’t see inside. “But I was driving. I figured I would find out when we got here.” She pushed the door open, and let out a gasp when she saw House on the bed. Chase released her and she hurried over to hold out a bowl just in time to catch the vomit.
House looked up at Chase sadly and wiped his mouth on his arm. “I don...ugh...” He groaned and leaned back on his pillow, shifting his blanket around.
“You okay buddy?” Chase filled a cup with some water while Cameron went to dump the contents of the bowl down the sink. House took the cup with a shaky hand and sipped down some of the cool liquid before shaking his head. When he didn’t respond, Chase frowned. “What’s wrong?” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why aren’t you talking?”
House shook his head again. “No. Should-“
Cuddy cut him off when she walked into the room. “His speech patterns are still a little off. We told him just to rest for now.”
“What do you mean, off?” Cameron asked, walking out of the bathroom.
“No one’s told you?” Cuddy walked over to the end of the bed and pulled off the chart, handing it to Cameron. “Incoherent speech, vomiting, seizures. I think it’s a result of the high BAL and methadone mixing. I would pump his stomach, but it seems that it’s working through his system.”
“But his liver...” Cameron said, flipping through the chart.
“I know, I thought of that, too,” Cuddy said, moving closer to House and putting a hand on his forehead. “But he’s thrown up at least 6 times since he got here, and he was covered in vomit when he came in. There’s no food in his vomit now, which means he must have thrown up a fair amount. He probably got a lot of the alcohol out that way.” She patted his hair back and smiled down at him. “Are you happy that Chase and Cameron are he to visit?”
He nodded slowly, but looked at the door.
“What is it House?” Cameron put the chart back at the end of the bed.
“I wan my...”
“You want something?”
He nodded and looked at the door again.
“You want to go for a walk?” Cuddy asked him.
He shook his head and let out a long stream of air. “Ugh...my...my...” he pointed at the dresser.
“There’s nothing in the dresser, House.”
“Guh!” He was frustrated and looked out the window, choosing to ignore them all.
“I think he wants Wilson,” 13 told them from the doorway
Next Chapter