Right. Steve had found her as she'd been leaving the Wing and heading towards the library. Reading the note quickly, her brow creasing in concern, Lily had muttered an oath and headed towards Ravenclaw. She needed some things, first.
Twenty minutes later, she and Steve - who had been attempting to bite her before she pacified the thing with a bit of Jaffa Cake - barreled into Slytherin. Trying the door and finding it locked, Lily pounded loudly with one fist. "Open up, House!"
Worried didn't even begin to cover it. He had five seconds to open this door or she was blasting the bloody thing off its hinges.
House wasn't going to be answering the door anytime soon. After days of not sleeping due to rabid insomnia, and a few recent hours spent kneeling on the adjoined bathroom floor emptying his stomach into the toilet after he'd tried to eat, everything had finally caught up with him. House had managed to fall asleep, forehead resting on the toilet seat, unuseable hand resting on his knee and the other loosely gripping the edge of the seat. It was by no means comfortable, but exhaustion would make you fall asleep anywhere.
After Wilson set his broken bone, he'd gotten some bandages off the house-elves and used them, wrapping them tightly around his wrist with a splint using, of all things, a biro. Hey, it was straight, and small enough. And easily removed.
All in all, it was safe to say that Lily was going to have to let herself in. With or without blasting the door all the way to America.
And no answer after a count of five meant that Lily threw an unlocking charm at the door and was through it before she'd even lowered her wand. Eyes quickly scanning the room, she set Steve down and dropped her bag. Not in bed, not in his chair...
Finding him in the bathroom, Lily let out a small breath, shoulders sagging slightly. Merlin. Setting her jaw, Lily knelt down beside him, taking in the bandaged wrist, the circles under House's eyes, and the general state of unwellness. Ha, unwell. That was an understatement. Gently resting her hand on his shoulder, Lily murmured, "House."
She needed to get him into his bed. Then she could assess what the bloody hell had happened to his wrist and figure out why the pills weren't working. She had a stronger dose in her bag as well as a vial of the original potion she'd been modifying.
There was also a bottle of Vicodin. Because sod it all to hell if she was going to let him be like this for one moment longer than necessary. She didn't give a shite about detoxing.
House twitched slightly, more of a knee-jerk reaction to being touched, making a deeply unsatisfied sound in his throat. For a moment, it looked like he was still asleep, until he twitched again and lifted his head off the toilet seat with an incoherent, "Unh?", looking around blearily for whatever had disturbed him. There was still an imprint from the seat on his forehead. This was, perhaps, the only time of day when House wasn't well equipped with a titanium wall of protective sarcasm at the ready.
Finally, squinting, he saw a vague shape with red hair, and concluded that it was Lily. Oh, that's right, he'd owled her. Why did he do that again? With another unintelligible sound that might have been "Piss off", he dropped his head back to his 'pillow' with a thunk. He'd just been sleeping for what felt like the first time since the detox, of course someone would come along and ruin that.
Evasion. Ah, yes, she knew this game. But his statement made her blink. "I..." She glanced down at the bottle, brow furrowing. It had simply never occurred to her that someone wouldn't have nightmares. "It's just a sleeping potion, there, Skippy. I, personally, don't take it, no. But I figured that you might need something to help out with the insomnia."
House bit down on a growl of frustration. He'd just guessed at something that Lily hadn't given him any clues about - that she had nightmares - and she still wasn't rising to the bait. His assumption came from the rather small bit of knowledge that she'd died, and had fought in a War (though perhaps not in that order) - and that anybody that had gone through traumatizing events tended to have nightmares. Hell, he should know. The only reason House actually got sleep most nights was drugging himself up with too many Vicodin.
He'd thought that might be a touchy subject with her, and it would get Lily to stop pushing medication on him. Pity. "I don't want to be knocked out for eight hours," he protested. "Because I get the ominous feeling that you won't leave."
If she'd thought there was anything odd about having nightmares - or, rather, that House thought there was something odd about it - she might have gotten upset. Hell, she might have gotten upset regardless, were she not so worried about House. But right now everything was focused on him, on taking care of him, and she only spared a passing concern for any barbs he was throwing in her direction.
Besides, she didn't take any sleeping potion. She just had the sodding nightmares.
"Oh, Skippy," Lily said, sounding deeply sorry. "I'm not leaving regardless. You might as well be sleeping through it. Otherwise I'll make you have girl talk with me about my fractured love life. And we'll braid each other's hair - which will take forever, as your wrist is shot to hell." Grinning cheerily at his curled up form, Lily shook the bottle of potion temptingly. "Unconsciousness is a mercy."
Quickly pondering ways that might get Lily out of here, House ran through a list. He could try to physically force her out, but as weak as he was feeling, she'd win easily. Unfortunately he hadn't learned any ways to do it with magic, so that option was out. He could vomit on her, which would make most people run away, but he had the feeling Lily wouldn't. Or, he could just get himself out of the room. Which was looking more and more like a good idea.
"You think I want witnesses around during one of the most pathetic times in my life?" His tone was nothing short of scathing, though whether he was angry at her, or himself, House wasn't entirely sure. "You've done your good deed for the day. Granted, there wasn't a road you could help the cripple cross, but you earn a badge anyway," he sniped, wondering how effective his sarcasm was when he was still mostly hiding under a duvet.
Comments 42
Twenty minutes later, she and Steve - who had been attempting to bite her before she pacified the thing with a bit of Jaffa Cake - barreled into Slytherin. Trying the door and finding it locked, Lily pounded loudly with one fist. "Open up, House!"
Worried didn't even begin to cover it. He had five seconds to open this door or she was blasting the bloody thing off its hinges.
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After Wilson set his broken bone, he'd gotten some bandages off the house-elves and used them, wrapping them tightly around his wrist with a splint using, of all things, a biro. Hey, it was straight, and small enough. And easily removed.
All in all, it was safe to say that Lily was going to have to let herself in. With or without blasting the door all the way to America.
Reply
Finding him in the bathroom, Lily let out a small breath, shoulders sagging slightly. Merlin. Setting her jaw, Lily knelt down beside him, taking in the bandaged wrist, the circles under House's eyes, and the general state of unwellness. Ha, unwell. That was an understatement. Gently resting her hand on his shoulder, Lily murmured, "House."
She needed to get him into his bed. Then she could assess what the bloody hell had happened to his wrist and figure out why the pills weren't working. She had a stronger dose in her bag as well as a vial of the original potion she'd been modifying.
There was also a bottle of Vicodin. Because sod it all to hell if she was going to let him be like this for one moment longer than necessary. She didn't give a shite about detoxing.
Reply
Finally, squinting, he saw a vague shape with red hair, and concluded that it was Lily. Oh, that's right, he'd owled her. Why did he do that again? With another unintelligible sound that might have been "Piss off", he dropped his head back to his 'pillow' with a thunk. He'd just been sleeping for what felt like the first time since the detox, of course someone would come along and ruin that.
Reply
Evasion. Ah, yes, she knew this game. But his statement made her blink. "I..." She glanced down at the bottle, brow furrowing. It had simply never occurred to her that someone wouldn't have nightmares. "It's just a sleeping potion, there, Skippy. I, personally, don't take it, no. But I figured that you might need something to help out with the insomnia."
Sitting on the edge of the bed again, Lily continued, "It should knock you out for at least eight hours. Sirius, er, took it for quite some time a while back, with no ill effects. And it's non-habit forming, so no worries there."
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He'd thought that might be a touchy subject with her, and it would get Lily to stop pushing medication on him. Pity. "I don't want to be knocked out for eight hours," he protested. "Because I get the ominous feeling that you won't leave."
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Besides, she didn't take any sleeping potion. She just had the sodding nightmares.
"Oh, Skippy," Lily said, sounding deeply sorry. "I'm not leaving regardless. You might as well be sleeping through it. Otherwise I'll make you have girl talk with me about my fractured love life. And we'll braid each other's hair - which will take forever, as your wrist is shot to hell." Grinning cheerily at his curled up form, Lily shook the bottle of potion temptingly. "Unconsciousness is a mercy."
Reply
"You think I want witnesses around during one of the most pathetic times in my life?" His tone was nothing short of scathing, though whether he was angry at her, or himself, House wasn't entirely sure. "You've done your good deed for the day. Granted, there wasn't a road you could help the cripple cross, but you earn a badge anyway," he sniped, wondering how effective his sarcasm was when he was still mostly hiding under a duvet.
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