quotable_muse Prompt: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof guts quote
giving up || 385 words || t
"I've got the guts to die. What I want to know is, have you got the guts to live?" - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
"Don't worry," he reassures Cuddy. "It's not like this is anything new. He doesn't know what to do with happiness. He's always depressed, even when it's been a while since he's killed a patient or been wrong. Now that he's done both of those things recently and spectacularly, it's only natural he's acting worse than usual."
He's right, of course, and it makes him smile a little when Cuddy sighs and nods her agreement. He touches her shoulder softy -- more reassurance -- and then watches her retreat down the hallway toward the elevators. But once she's gone the smile fades, the air of quiet confidence drops and James Wilson turns back to look in on his best friend with a grim expression on his face.
It is true that House is always miserable. But Wilson hasn't seen him this miserable since ... well, ever, actually. The first time Stacy left, it was close. But this is even worse. Or at least it seems to be. Wilson supposes perhaps the passage of time has distorted his memories but he doesn't really believe that. He's fairly certain he has never seen House as miserable as this.
He stands outside House's hospital room for a while every day. For a few days, he tried to actually visit. But he didn't know what to say and House wouldn't speak, either, and so now he just stays outside or in the doorway, waiting for some sign that he is welcome there.
He's looked at the charts and he knows the hospital is giving House intravenous assistance with nutrition because he isn't eating properly. He also appears to be sleeping worse than usual and he's unbearably irritable. For as long as Wilson has known him, House has always been a jerk, so it's saying something that the increase is noticeable.
The worst part for Wilson, though, is that House won't even look at him. He could deal with glares and eye-rolls. Just about any form of communication, really, even if it stays nonverbal. But House remains dispassionate and withdrawn and apathetic and silent. It's like he's completely given up on everything. Like he's lost the will and courage to live anymore.
It's bad enough, Wilson thinks, that he's just lost Amber. He isn't sure what he'll do if he loses House now, too.
"I've got the guts to die. What I want to know is, have you got the guts to live?" - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
"Don't worry," he reassures Cuddy. "It's not like this is anything new. He doesn't know what to do with happiness. He's always depressed, even when it's been a while since he's killed a patient or been wrong. Now that he's done both of those things recently and spectacularly, it's only natural he's acting worse than usual."
He's right, of course, and it makes him smile a little when Cuddy sighs and nods her agreement. He touches her shoulder softy -- more reassurance -- and then watches her retreat down the hallway toward the elevators. But once she's gone the smile fades, the air of quiet confidence drops and James Wilson turns back to look in on his best friend with a grim expression on his face.
It is true that House is always miserable. But Wilson hasn't seen him this miserable since ... well, ever, actually. The first time Stacy left, it was close. But this is even worse. Or at least it seems to be. Wilson supposes perhaps the passage of time has distorted his memories but he doesn't really believe that. He's fairly certain he has never seen House as miserable as this.
He stands outside House's hospital room for a while every day. For a few days, he tried to actually visit. But he didn't know what to say and House wouldn't speak, either, and so now he just stays outside or in the doorway, waiting for some sign that he is welcome there.
He's looked at the charts and he knows the hospital is giving House intravenous assistance with nutrition because he isn't eating properly. He also appears to be sleeping worse than usual and he's unbearably irritable. For as long as Wilson has known him, House has always been a jerk, so it's saying something that the increase is noticeable.
The worst part for Wilson, though, is that House won't even look at him. He could deal with glares and eye-rolls. Just about any form of communication, really, even if it stays nonverbal. But House remains dispassionate and withdrawn and apathetic and silent. It's like he's completely given up on everything. Like he's lost the will and courage to live anymore.
It's bad enough, Wilson thinks, that he's just lost Amber. He isn't sure what he'll do if he loses House now, too.