[HOUSE] Lead Away From Camelot 2/3
Lead Away From Camelot
House, Cameron, Wilson, PG-13, 1055 words, "finding judas, merry little christmas, human error"
You were either going to help me through this or you weren't.
Part 1
Oh, day of anguish! Strange and awful day
Of pain more piercing than the pain of wounds,--
Wounds scarcely felt, numbed by the great dismay
Unspeakable that a great soul astounds,--
His soul that, never taught in any strife
Before to spell the ugly word defeat
King Arthur in Avalon by Sara Hammond Palfrey
+
He sees her watching him, hand brushing softly against her side. Eyes wistful and damning, clashing with the starkness of her face. He looks away, avoids. Only looks up again when he hears the echo of her footsteps receding away. He’s not ready to admit anything, anything at all and he chides himself for even wanting her, it, wanting them. Even if only for a moment.
Because it would be so simple to have her, own her, leave her before his life takes another disastrous turn for the worse. Because he knows she’s watching, waiting for something, anything from him.
He thinks she’s gotten good at waiting.
When he tells himself that this is it, this is the very worst it’s ever going to get, he’s still surprised when he’s wrong. He hates to be wrong and Tritter has done everything in his power to prove it. House shakes his head; he doesn’t really believe an apology at this point is going to change anything. He needs his medication, he needs to win, he needs to manipulate and this time he just might not be able to play his way out of his own game.
And that scares him just a little bit.
He won’t talk to Wilson (its over) and amusing himself over Chase or Foreman holds no interest. So he waits; he hides and continues to avoid. Something he does so well.
“House.”
He sighs deeply, doesn’t bother to look up. “I thought you had left already.” His voice holds a dare. She makes it that easy.
“I did…I had, but I came back. It’s Christmas.” He could see the clenching of her fists through her coat pocket.
“I had noticed.”
Now it was her turn to sigh, “I just wanted to make sure you had somewhere to go, people to be with.”
“Because you care.” He couldn’t avoid the taunt, couldn’t stop the remark had he wanted to.
“Yes.” It was a whisper, so soft he strained to hear it. “I-Merry Christmas, House.”
He watches her turn to leave and thinks (yes) it could be so easy.
+
It was a wake up call, the overdose was. He remembers the sound of Wilson’s voice calling to him, he thinks a door slammed and he knows O Holy Night was playing somewhere in the background. What he doesn’t want to remember is how close he came to dying and if it was, perhaps, intentional. That is something he thinks he can address later.
But he wonders if there are such things as second chances, because he knows that he has used up all of his, and he watches the weeks continue to move by in blur and he thinks maybe he might have gotten away with it. Wilson avoids him (and that just might be ok) and Cuddy is watching like a hawk. The more things change, the more things stay the same. Except for her. She's changing, its subtle but its there. She moves quietly and she's not pushing him anymore. Not for anything, and a part of him wonders if it’s finally broken her.
Somehow it he doesn’t think it’s that simple, and she’s changing the rules of the game on him.
"Cameron."
She looks up, wariness etched along her face.
"Still fighting with Wilson?” Goading her is rapidly becoming more than he wants.
She shrugs the act nonchalant but he sees the tension in her frame. “We’re not fighting. Only you would think that.”
“Apparently only I and everyone else in this hospital that sees the two of you interact.” He pauses, moving closer to her, “No, wait, it couldn’t be…it’s not because you were defending poor old me?”
She shifts away, the sarcasm cutting through her and she tilts her head defiantly. “I wasn’t defending you; I just didn’t believe that what he did was right. Maybe I just don’t believe in the reasons why he did it.”
He stares at her, gauging her words. “But isn’t it about right and wrong for you, Cameron? Black and white, it’s that simple. Unless-,” he pauses, “-unless you’ve started to see the shades of grey.”
She turns back to the desk to sort through her papers. “Why do you think it’s easy to define me, to put me into a category? You know I’ll keep surprising you.”
She pushes past him, clutching a file to her chest. Opening the door to the corridor, she turns back, “Honestly House, it’s what keeps you coming back for more.”
He watches her as she walks towards the elevators. Every time he thinks he has her solved, she throws another piece into the puzzle. It was fast becoming unsettling.
He follows her into the hall and turns towards Cuddy’s office. Might as well find a way to amuse himself somehow. He almost turned around again when he sees Wilson approaching and his instinct is to run and avoid.
Because it would be easier to tell him off, to tell him to stay out of his life, to leave him alone. It’s what he does best. (and they were done, he keeps telling himself that)
But he thinks about how much he misses Wilson’s company (secretly) and deep inside he knows that Wilson really is the only person he can count on. So instead of walking away, instead of turning tail and rushing off, he faces him.
He knows that Wilson has made the gesture, approaching him on Christmas Eve, but he wasn't ready. Wasn't sure that he ever would be. He wonders if it was Wilson who called the ambulance, if it was Wilson that had him finally checked in to a hospital, but he doesn't know for sure.
So if all the maybes and not sures fall into place, he could be ready.
But as he hesitates to say (what he doesn't know), it’s Wilson who passes him by without a glance, Wilson who looks dejectedly forward, ignoring House’s sardonic glance.
He thinks he hates him a little for that.
original post
House, Cameron, Wilson, PG-13, 1055 words, "finding judas, merry little christmas, human error"
You were either going to help me through this or you weren't.
Part 1
Oh, day of anguish! Strange and awful day
Of pain more piercing than the pain of wounds,--
Wounds scarcely felt, numbed by the great dismay
Unspeakable that a great soul astounds,--
His soul that, never taught in any strife
Before to spell the ugly word defeat
King Arthur in Avalon by Sara Hammond Palfrey
+
He sees her watching him, hand brushing softly against her side. Eyes wistful and damning, clashing with the starkness of her face. He looks away, avoids. Only looks up again when he hears the echo of her footsteps receding away. He’s not ready to admit anything, anything at all and he chides himself for even wanting her, it, wanting them. Even if only for a moment.
Because it would be so simple to have her, own her, leave her before his life takes another disastrous turn for the worse. Because he knows she’s watching, waiting for something, anything from him.
He thinks she’s gotten good at waiting.
When he tells himself that this is it, this is the very worst it’s ever going to get, he’s still surprised when he’s wrong. He hates to be wrong and Tritter has done everything in his power to prove it. House shakes his head; he doesn’t really believe an apology at this point is going to change anything. He needs his medication, he needs to win, he needs to manipulate and this time he just might not be able to play his way out of his own game.
And that scares him just a little bit.
He won’t talk to Wilson (its over) and amusing himself over Chase or Foreman holds no interest. So he waits; he hides and continues to avoid. Something he does so well.
“House.”
He sighs deeply, doesn’t bother to look up. “I thought you had left already.” His voice holds a dare. She makes it that easy.
“I did…I had, but I came back. It’s Christmas.” He could see the clenching of her fists through her coat pocket.
“I had noticed.”
Now it was her turn to sigh, “I just wanted to make sure you had somewhere to go, people to be with.”
“Because you care.” He couldn’t avoid the taunt, couldn’t stop the remark had he wanted to.
“Yes.” It was a whisper, so soft he strained to hear it. “I-Merry Christmas, House.”
He watches her turn to leave and thinks (yes) it could be so easy.
+
It was a wake up call, the overdose was. He remembers the sound of Wilson’s voice calling to him, he thinks a door slammed and he knows O Holy Night was playing somewhere in the background. What he doesn’t want to remember is how close he came to dying and if it was, perhaps, intentional. That is something he thinks he can address later.
But he wonders if there are such things as second chances, because he knows that he has used up all of his, and he watches the weeks continue to move by in blur and he thinks maybe he might have gotten away with it. Wilson avoids him (and that just might be ok) and Cuddy is watching like a hawk. The more things change, the more things stay the same. Except for her. She's changing, its subtle but its there. She moves quietly and she's not pushing him anymore. Not for anything, and a part of him wonders if it’s finally broken her.
Somehow it he doesn’t think it’s that simple, and she’s changing the rules of the game on him.
"Cameron."
She looks up, wariness etched along her face.
"Still fighting with Wilson?” Goading her is rapidly becoming more than he wants.
She shrugs the act nonchalant but he sees the tension in her frame. “We’re not fighting. Only you would think that.”
“Apparently only I and everyone else in this hospital that sees the two of you interact.” He pauses, moving closer to her, “No, wait, it couldn’t be…it’s not because you were defending poor old me?”
She shifts away, the sarcasm cutting through her and she tilts her head defiantly. “I wasn’t defending you; I just didn’t believe that what he did was right. Maybe I just don’t believe in the reasons why he did it.”
He stares at her, gauging her words. “But isn’t it about right and wrong for you, Cameron? Black and white, it’s that simple. Unless-,” he pauses, “-unless you’ve started to see the shades of grey.”
She turns back to the desk to sort through her papers. “Why do you think it’s easy to define me, to put me into a category? You know I’ll keep surprising you.”
She pushes past him, clutching a file to her chest. Opening the door to the corridor, she turns back, “Honestly House, it’s what keeps you coming back for more.”
He watches her as she walks towards the elevators. Every time he thinks he has her solved, she throws another piece into the puzzle. It was fast becoming unsettling.
He follows her into the hall and turns towards Cuddy’s office. Might as well find a way to amuse himself somehow. He almost turned around again when he sees Wilson approaching and his instinct is to run and avoid.
Because it would be easier to tell him off, to tell him to stay out of his life, to leave him alone. It’s what he does best. (and they were done, he keeps telling himself that)
But he thinks about how much he misses Wilson’s company (secretly) and deep inside he knows that Wilson really is the only person he can count on. So instead of walking away, instead of turning tail and rushing off, he faces him.
He knows that Wilson has made the gesture, approaching him on Christmas Eve, but he wasn't ready. Wasn't sure that he ever would be. He wonders if it was Wilson who called the ambulance, if it was Wilson that had him finally checked in to a hospital, but he doesn't know for sure.
So if all the maybes and not sures fall into place, he could be ready.
But as he hesitates to say (what he doesn't know), it’s Wilson who passes him by without a glance, Wilson who looks dejectedly forward, ignoring House’s sardonic glance.
He thinks he hates him a little for that.
original post