eclecticmuses :: January :: I turned on the light...
I turned on the light, and. . .
I turned on the light, and it felt entirely too normal. It shouldn’t have been normal, because I wasn’t supposed to be there. I don’t work upstairs, in diagnosis, or for House. I have no reason whatsoever to go up there, but I did. I went to the diagnostics office - which, really, is just his office as he’s never been one to share - and just sort of stood there for a few minutes. He wasn’t there, otherwise I would’ve had to come up with a reason or retreat very quickly, both which might have been better for my mental health.
The door wasn’t locked. It never was, mostly because though House would leave at a descent hour, his team would normally be there all night, unless it was a rare case that didn’t require 24-hour supervision. I didn’t see anyone from his new team; I don’t know that any of them are trustworthy, but I do know that they aim to stay in my good graces since I’m often the one who refers their cases. But, I stepped inside and flipped the light on.
I can’t honestly tell you what I went there for. I had to repress the urge to go start a pot of coffee or to go and check House’s email. I walked inside and sat down at the table, staring blankly at the white board, as if I expected a diagnosis to just appear there and tell me what the hell I was doing. I didn’t stay long - just long enough to breathe in the little things I miss. But, I left after about ten minutes - flipped off the light and shut the door, as if I’d never been there.
I turned on the light, and it felt entirely too normal. It shouldn’t have been normal, because I wasn’t supposed to be there. I don’t work upstairs, in diagnosis, or for House. I have no reason whatsoever to go up there, but I did. I went to the diagnostics office - which, really, is just his office as he’s never been one to share - and just sort of stood there for a few minutes. He wasn’t there, otherwise I would’ve had to come up with a reason or retreat very quickly, both which might have been better for my mental health.
The door wasn’t locked. It never was, mostly because though House would leave at a descent hour, his team would normally be there all night, unless it was a rare case that didn’t require 24-hour supervision. I didn’t see anyone from his new team; I don’t know that any of them are trustworthy, but I do know that they aim to stay in my good graces since I’m often the one who refers their cases. But, I stepped inside and flipped the light on.
I can’t honestly tell you what I went there for. I had to repress the urge to go start a pot of coffee or to go and check House’s email. I walked inside and sat down at the table, staring blankly at the white board, as if I expected a diagnosis to just appear there and tell me what the hell I was doing. I didn’t stay long - just long enough to breathe in the little things I miss. But, I left after about ten minutes - flipped off the light and shut the door, as if I’d never been there.