SPOILERS post 5x24 House MD drabble
Title: I’m here
Pairings: make a guess…
Genre: Drama/Angst
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON FINALE!!!
Rating: PG
Chapters:drabble/ficlet
Status: completed
Word Count: 381
Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D. nor the characters.
Summary: my take on House’s realization. Cuddy’s POV. Written in twenty minutes. First draft. My way of coping with 5x24.
ETA: Noticed a few typos.
“House?… House, are you ok?” she asked him, the cold feeling of concern spreading all over her whole being, as she walked quickly to him. There was a long pause as he gazed at her unfocusedly, and she grew more worried with each passing second.
She put a hand to his neck, searching his face. He brought his eyes to hers, lost and unbelieving. She stroked his cheek unconsciously, looking into his eyes, trying to provide as much comfort as she could. His gaze flickered down, his head shaking slightly, and she was surprised to see tears forming in his eyes as they locked with hers once more.
She could feel his hands slowly gripping her arms, as he closed his eyes painfully; a horrid realization forming in them.
“No…” He said shakily - oh, so brokenly - his eyes closed “I’m not ok.” and her heart squeezed painfully, fear mixing suddenly with concern as he closed his eyes once more.
His grip on her arms tightened and he leaned into her embrace, an uncontrollable trembling taking over him. His breathing hitched, shallow and quick. She could feel his head shaking, his whole being trembling, as he tried to mold himself into her, as if- as if seeking comfort in the only place able to provide it.
“Please…” a moan. “please, tell me you’re here. Tell me you’re real, tell me I’m not- I’m not imagining, please… please.” He squeezed her more, whimpering, swaying, totally lost with something she could not understand.
The involuntary tears filled her eyes and she hugged him, rocking slowly, as if lulling a child; her hand on his head, stroking as silent tears fell down from her eyes.
“I’m here.” She whispered, and felt him sob once - brokenly - as he heard her.
She didn’t know what was going on, what he was exactly going through, but the anguish in his face, the heartbreaking plea in his voice was her undoing.
“I’m here” she repeated, kissing the top of his head.
They stayed like this for how long she couldn’t tell, but she was not moving anywhere. He needed her. He needed her comfort, her assurance, her caring. He was clutching her like the drowning his last chance at being saved, and she would not deprive him of it.
I’m here.
Pairings: make a guess…
Genre: Drama/Angst
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON FINALE!!!
Rating: PG
Chapters:drabble/ficlet
Status: completed
Word Count: 381
Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D. nor the characters.
Summary: my take on House’s realization. Cuddy’s POV. Written in twenty minutes. First draft. My way of coping with 5x24.
ETA: Noticed a few typos.
“House?… House, are you ok?” she asked him, the cold feeling of concern spreading all over her whole being, as she walked quickly to him. There was a long pause as he gazed at her unfocusedly, and she grew more worried with each passing second.
She put a hand to his neck, searching his face. He brought his eyes to hers, lost and unbelieving. She stroked his cheek unconsciously, looking into his eyes, trying to provide as much comfort as she could. His gaze flickered down, his head shaking slightly, and she was surprised to see tears forming in his eyes as they locked with hers once more.
She could feel his hands slowly gripping her arms, as he closed his eyes painfully; a horrid realization forming in them.
“No…” He said shakily - oh, so brokenly - his eyes closed “I’m not ok.” and her heart squeezed painfully, fear mixing suddenly with concern as he closed his eyes once more.
His grip on her arms tightened and he leaned into her embrace, an uncontrollable trembling taking over him. His breathing hitched, shallow and quick. She could feel his head shaking, his whole being trembling, as he tried to mold himself into her, as if- as if seeking comfort in the only place able to provide it.
“Please…” a moan. “please, tell me you’re here. Tell me you’re real, tell me I’m not- I’m not imagining, please… please.” He squeezed her more, whimpering, swaying, totally lost with something she could not understand.
The involuntary tears filled her eyes and she hugged him, rocking slowly, as if lulling a child; her hand on his head, stroking as silent tears fell down from her eyes.
“I’m here.” She whispered, and felt him sob once - brokenly - as he heard her.
She didn’t know what was going on, what he was exactly going through, but the anguish in his face, the heartbreaking plea in his voice was her undoing.
“I’m here” she repeated, kissing the top of his head.
They stayed like this for how long she couldn’t tell, but she was not moving anywhere. He needed her. He needed her comfort, her assurance, her caring. He was clutching her like the drowning his last chance at being saved, and she would not deprive him of it.
I’m here.