Fic: Million To One
Title: Million To One
Fandom: House
Rating: PG-13
Prompt #84 - Found
Characters: House, Cuddy
Spoilers: None
Author's notes: This is answer #10 to the au100 challenge. You can find my complete table here.
You open your eyes to the light, see white, blur, and for the first few days - there's nothing.
White light and misshapen objects, intense sounds, and it all secretly scares you but you can't do much so you lay there, alone. Every once in a while someone will come by and you learn quickly their presence leads to either sustenance or pain, mostly in the form of a needle penetrating your skin, cold and harsh. You don't ask for it, you complain, but the nurses learned as soon as you arrived of your cantankerousness (quickly you become famous for it), so they mostly ignore you and continue doing their jobs.
You open your eyes to the light, and for the first few days there's nothing. There's no one. And if you had the mental and emotional capacity you'd give this strange sensation a second (third, fourth) thought, but you don't, so you lay there, and you wait, fighting the pain, not knowing where you are or how you got there or most important - why.
But on the second day she shows up, she finds you, and everything changes.
More importantly, you change, and she changes, too. You see in her blue eyes the same loneliness, the same strong will not to give it all up, and when she holds your hand (she can't, or won't allow herself to get closer) you feel a warmth you haven't felt since you found yourself here alone. Or before that.
That's how it starts.
For the first few weeks you see her, sometimes too early, sometimes too late, but always there and in her face there's recognition, determination, and reluctance. There are things she wants to say but doesn't, and there are things you want to ask but can't, so she merely sits by your bedside quietly, without saying a word, contemplating (you have that much in common).
It's how it starts.
And it doesn't take long. And quickly (too quickly) you begin to miss her when she's gone, and you feel your heart beat faster when she's around (but this is an emotion you won't or can't express, yet), and though neither of you says a word you both know that between you and her there is, and may always be, a special bond, two people brought together under the weight of loneliness and yearning, of wasted opportunities, of disappointment, and so much more that your brain can't wrap itself around.
But quickly she becomes a drug, a new drug, and you yearn for her, especially at night when it's dark and quiet and cold, and you call out, but there's no one there to answer save the occasional nurse who likes to throw words around like 'withdrawal' and 'symptoms' and 'detox'. You miss her smell, you miss her smile, or her ill temper, you miss her eyes and even the way she insists on certain procedures that you hate and let her know, and you hate the way she says, "it's for your own good," and walks away. You hate the way you resent her and need her.
It happens quickly. Maybe you're too vulnerable, or maybe there's a deeper meaning. She's not your first choice, though the memories of the woman before her are fast fading, but she's your second chance. Take it or leave it, it's a simple choice, one you both struggle with daily as your body fights for normalcy, the words unspoken but heavy.
It's not the first time she's had to struggle with this decision.
A week later she shows up and she's not alone, and you feel that strong vibe between her and him, two people coming together out of necessity for you, watching over you, making decisions for you. "For your own good." He looks weak and tired, but you realize quickly he's the one who's been keeping her together through this and you feel a pang of unexplained jealousy.
That's when you know you've lost, and you need her, and though this crippling vulnerability is overwhelming and unwelcome the thought of not having her hurts more. And so you relinquish yourself to her. Completely. It's a long and heavy fall, and you surrender yourself to it with eyes closed and a flicker of hope in your heart. The drug has left your system and your body stops craving it, and all that's left is this. And her.
It happens quickly. A whirlwind of emotions and sensations, tears in her eyes, and once again all her chips are on the table, and the tiny ball moves quickly over the spinning roulette... but it never stops rolling.
Months later she lays with you in bed, with her hands caressing your cheek and her unwavering smile warm and sweet, and the love you feel for her fills your heart like a balloon, and it bursts into sparks of energy and for the first time ever you open your mouth, and the word comes out in uneven, joyful squeals.
"Mama..." you say, and when she gasps, and you realize you've said this out loud, that you CAN say it out loud, you reach for her face and repeat it, much louder, "mama!"
She laughs, and then cries, and gathers you in her arms and in her warm embrace you both spin slowly in circles in the middle of her room, and you hold on to her (knowing she'll never let you fall) and you laugh along, feeling euphoric, until you both fall back into her bed laughing, exhausted and dizzy, ecstatic. The energy wanes and moments later you lay in her arms and feel her tears on the skin of your head as she kisses your soft hair, whispering, "thank you," and holding you tight. You fall asleep to the soft hum of her words.
It'll take years for you to fully understand the meaning of the word 'adoption', even longer to fully grasp the concept of genetics, and growing into adulthood to finally figure out why the man with the cane smiles only at the back of her head, but there are things, simple things, you learn quickly.
At that moment you have only known her for seven months, but if you took every kiss, every hug, every "I love you," if you stretched them together end to end-you know they'd reach forever.
The End
Fandom: House
Rating: PG-13
Prompt #84 - Found
Characters: House, Cuddy
Spoilers: None
Author's notes: This is answer #10 to the au100 challenge. You can find my complete table here.
You open your eyes to the light, see white, blur, and for the first few days - there's nothing.
White light and misshapen objects, intense sounds, and it all secretly scares you but you can't do much so you lay there, alone. Every once in a while someone will come by and you learn quickly their presence leads to either sustenance or pain, mostly in the form of a needle penetrating your skin, cold and harsh. You don't ask for it, you complain, but the nurses learned as soon as you arrived of your cantankerousness (quickly you become famous for it), so they mostly ignore you and continue doing their jobs.
You open your eyes to the light, and for the first few days there's nothing. There's no one. And if you had the mental and emotional capacity you'd give this strange sensation a second (third, fourth) thought, but you don't, so you lay there, and you wait, fighting the pain, not knowing where you are or how you got there or most important - why.
But on the second day she shows up, she finds you, and everything changes.
More importantly, you change, and she changes, too. You see in her blue eyes the same loneliness, the same strong will not to give it all up, and when she holds your hand (she can't, or won't allow herself to get closer) you feel a warmth you haven't felt since you found yourself here alone. Or before that.
That's how it starts.
For the first few weeks you see her, sometimes too early, sometimes too late, but always there and in her face there's recognition, determination, and reluctance. There are things she wants to say but doesn't, and there are things you want to ask but can't, so she merely sits by your bedside quietly, without saying a word, contemplating (you have that much in common).
It's how it starts.
And it doesn't take long. And quickly (too quickly) you begin to miss her when she's gone, and you feel your heart beat faster when she's around (but this is an emotion you won't or can't express, yet), and though neither of you says a word you both know that between you and her there is, and may always be, a special bond, two people brought together under the weight of loneliness and yearning, of wasted opportunities, of disappointment, and so much more that your brain can't wrap itself around.
But quickly she becomes a drug, a new drug, and you yearn for her, especially at night when it's dark and quiet and cold, and you call out, but there's no one there to answer save the occasional nurse who likes to throw words around like 'withdrawal' and 'symptoms' and 'detox'. You miss her smell, you miss her smile, or her ill temper, you miss her eyes and even the way she insists on certain procedures that you hate and let her know, and you hate the way she says, "it's for your own good," and walks away. You hate the way you resent her and need her.
It happens quickly. Maybe you're too vulnerable, or maybe there's a deeper meaning. She's not your first choice, though the memories of the woman before her are fast fading, but she's your second chance. Take it or leave it, it's a simple choice, one you both struggle with daily as your body fights for normalcy, the words unspoken but heavy.
It's not the first time she's had to struggle with this decision.
A week later she shows up and she's not alone, and you feel that strong vibe between her and him, two people coming together out of necessity for you, watching over you, making decisions for you. "For your own good." He looks weak and tired, but you realize quickly he's the one who's been keeping her together through this and you feel a pang of unexplained jealousy.
That's when you know you've lost, and you need her, and though this crippling vulnerability is overwhelming and unwelcome the thought of not having her hurts more. And so you relinquish yourself to her. Completely. It's a long and heavy fall, and you surrender yourself to it with eyes closed and a flicker of hope in your heart. The drug has left your system and your body stops craving it, and all that's left is this. And her.
It happens quickly. A whirlwind of emotions and sensations, tears in her eyes, and once again all her chips are on the table, and the tiny ball moves quickly over the spinning roulette... but it never stops rolling.
Months later she lays with you in bed, with her hands caressing your cheek and her unwavering smile warm and sweet, and the love you feel for her fills your heart like a balloon, and it bursts into sparks of energy and for the first time ever you open your mouth, and the word comes out in uneven, joyful squeals.
"Mama..." you say, and when she gasps, and you realize you've said this out loud, that you CAN say it out loud, you reach for her face and repeat it, much louder, "mama!"
She laughs, and then cries, and gathers you in her arms and in her warm embrace you both spin slowly in circles in the middle of her room, and you hold on to her (knowing she'll never let you fall) and you laugh along, feeling euphoric, until you both fall back into her bed laughing, exhausted and dizzy, ecstatic. The energy wanes and moments later you lay in her arms and feel her tears on the skin of your head as she kisses your soft hair, whispering, "thank you," and holding you tight. You fall asleep to the soft hum of her words.
It'll take years for you to fully understand the meaning of the word 'adoption', even longer to fully grasp the concept of genetics, and growing into adulthood to finally figure out why the man with the cane smiles only at the back of her head, but there are things, simple things, you learn quickly.
At that moment you have only known her for seven months, but if you took every kiss, every hug, every "I love you," if you stretched them together end to end-you know they'd reach forever.
The End