Fic: Not Like This
Title: Not Like This
Characters: Cuddy-centric.
Warnings: Vague spoilers for all series. Major character death.
Rating: G
Word Count: 230
Summary: It wasn’t meant to supposed like this. It shouldn’t have happened at all.
Disclaimer: Don’t own House. It all belongs to David Shore and co.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
The bright glare of the lights emphasises how thin and fragile House looks. The jaundice yellow of his skin stands out against the pale white of the bed linen.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
It shouldn’t have happened at all, Cuddy thinks. House had always seemed indestructible: the infarction, being shot; deep brain stimulation; electric shock; the bus crash; a motorcycle accident; overdose - House had survived them all. But not this.
They had all known it would probably end this way, but no one had really accepted it. House was a fact of life, too bold and shocking and daring to succumb to something as average and mundane as liver failure.
The flat line on the monitor catches her attention like an insult. The whole thing feels unreal, like a horrible dream, but she knows she has to press on and deal with the reality of the situation.
“Time of death,” she says quietly, voice breaking a little, “2:38PM.”
Wilson looks at her from his position at House’s side as if she’s just committed a terrible offense. Unable to meet his eyes, she leaves the room, her feet taking her back to her office as if on autopilot. She’s sure people were speaking to her, but she’s too numb to take any real notice.
It wasn’t meant to happen this way.
Characters: Cuddy-centric.
Warnings: Vague spoilers for all series. Major character death.
Rating: G
Word Count: 230
Summary: It wasn’t meant to supposed like this. It shouldn’t have happened at all.
Disclaimer: Don’t own House. It all belongs to David Shore and co.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
The bright glare of the lights emphasises how thin and fragile House looks. The jaundice yellow of his skin stands out against the pale white of the bed linen.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
It shouldn’t have happened at all, Cuddy thinks. House had always seemed indestructible: the infarction, being shot; deep brain stimulation; electric shock; the bus crash; a motorcycle accident; overdose - House had survived them all. But not this.
They had all known it would probably end this way, but no one had really accepted it. House was a fact of life, too bold and shocking and daring to succumb to something as average and mundane as liver failure.
The flat line on the monitor catches her attention like an insult. The whole thing feels unreal, like a horrible dream, but she knows she has to press on and deal with the reality of the situation.
“Time of death,” she says quietly, voice breaking a little, “2:38PM.”
Wilson looks at her from his position at House’s side as if she’s just committed a terrible offense. Unable to meet his eyes, she leaves the room, her feet taking her back to her office as if on autopilot. She’s sure people were speaking to her, but she’s too numb to take any real notice.
It wasn’t meant to happen this way.