Fic: Fade to Black: Chapter Ten
Title: Fade to Black
Disclaimer: All rights belong to Fox and David Shore. I make no money from this.
Summary: Part of the hospital collapses, trapping House and Cuddy beneath the rubble. After extraction, there's going to be recovery.
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.
“Dr. Cuddy?”
Cuddy looked up from her place at the conference table. She realized Knott, Darling, and Federicks were all staring at her. Her eyebrows drew together.
“Hm?”
“I said I think by the end of this year, we’ll be able to afford the new x-ray machines despite the remodeling going on now,” Fredericks repeated his previous words.
“Uh-huh,” Cuddy replied, a bit apprehensively because she realized she had tuned out the second half of his sentence.
“Are you okay?” Federicks asked her.
“Yeah.” Cuddy nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You seem distracted,” Knott added.
“No, I, uh...” she trailed off, tired of this charade. There was a lot on her mind right now and she wasn’t okay. She forced a smile on her face. “Do you think we could continue this next week?”
“Next week?” Darling repeated.
“Yes,” Cuddy replied. “If it’s not a problem.”
“Well, no.” Darling began writing on his notepad. “I guess that’s fine.”
“Yeah, sure.” Federicks agreed.
“Okay.” Cuddy gave a short nod. “Thanks. And I’m really sorry about this. There’s just a lot happening right now...”
“That’s understandable,” Federicks said.
Cuddy drew in a breath and wheeled herself back. Fredericks stood from the table and hurried to the door, opening it for her. She wheeled herself out of the room and headed for the elevators.
When she got off the elevator, Cuddy couldn’t help, but feel somewhat hopeful, even though that feeling was intermixed with anxiety. She came closer to House’s office, needing to see him in there, but as she made it past the bunched up blinds, she saw that his office was empty.
A frown crossing over her face, Cuddy wheeled herself to the conference room. Chase quickly stood from his chair and opened the door for her. She remained outside the room however.
“Where’s House?” she asked the team, taking a look at Foreman and Cameron.
“He hasn’t come in,” Cameron told her.
“Has anyone been in touch with him?” Cuddy said.
“We left him messages, but he hasn’t called back,” Chase replied.
Cuddy drew in a breath and nodded. “Thanks.”
She wheeled herself back and headed toward Wilson’s office. She didn’t know where House was, his team didn’t know where he was, and she was just praying that Wilson did. It was getting to the point where she planning to leave work to go find him.
Cuddy knocked on the door and then waited. The door opened and Wilson looked down at her.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Have you talked to House?” Cuddy immediately cut to the chase.
“No,” Wilson answered. “Has he come in yet?”
“No.” Cuddy shook her head slightly. “I’m worried. After last night... I just... I’m really worried, James.”
“Do you want me to go to his house?” Wilson offered, raising his eyebrows.
“Would you?” Cuddy replied.
“I’ll run over quick and let you know,” Wilson told her.
“Thank you.” Cuddy let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s not a problem.” Wilson gave a short nod. “I’m worried, too.”
House had been staring at the wall for longer than he could remember. He had fallen asleep at her house, but when he awoke only a short time later and saw where he was, he realized he couldn’t continue to stay. He couldn’t bear to still be there in the morning.
Once he arrived home, he suddenly had no want for sleep. He felt tired, but he didn’t want to sleep. Instead, he sat on his couch and stared at the wall. He was sure he dozed off a few times, but never longer than twenty minutes at a time.
As he spent that time alone-time when he wasn’t working, time with his phone off, ignoring his life-it gave him a chance to think about his life. He was pitying himself, which he hated. He was disappointed in himself, which he also hated. House felt he wasn’t himself, but perhaps if he thought about his problems long enough, he might find a way back to the person he was before all of this happened.
He never wanted to be this bad, he never wanted to control his pain this way. Yeah, he used his Vicodin because he really didn’t have a choice if he wanted to function after the infarction, but now, things were different. He gave in and felt sorry for himself and that was making him even more miserable, which, in turn, led to increasing his Vicodin intake.
A steady headache had begun to grow ever since he arrived home and his analyzing only made it worse. By the time the morning light was peeking through the blinds, he was slumped over on the couch, an arm hanging off as he still tried to keep awake.
The loud knock on his door brought him from a light sleep. House looked around his apartment, his eyes blurry and burning. He focused his attention on the clock and read the time. He was confused for a moment, thinking it was one thirty in the morning, but then he realized it had to be the afternoon.
He sat up quickly, his head throbbing and the room swaying. Someone was at his door and using a key, which meant it could only be one of two people. He knew who it couldn’t be, which only left Wilson.
The door opened and House watched a fuzzy Wilson enter into his apartment. He let out a breath and flopped back down on the couch.
“Well, you’re alive,” Wilson said. “Thanks for letting the world know.”
“The world doesn’t care,” House replied, his voice sounding groggy.
“Thanks for letting us know,” Wilson corrected his statement.
“You don’t-”
“Why else would I be here?” Wilson cut him off, not giving House a chance to finish that sentence. He crossed towards the couch and peered over at House. “What the hell is going on, House? Lisa told me you showed up at her house last night and threw up on her porch.”
“I didn’t throw up on her porch,” House nastily told him as he let his eyes close.
Wilson sighed as he took out his cell phone. He knew Cuddy was anxious and he wanted to ease her worry. He called her and waited through one ring before she picked up.
“Is he okay?” Cuddy asked.
“Yeah,” Wilson answered. “I guess.”
“You guess?” Cuddy repeated.
“Well, he’s breathing,” Wilson said. “And speaking.”
“I’m right here,” House spoke up from the couch.
“And he still has his attitude,” Wilson added into the phone.
“Tell him that he better call into work the next time he wants to ignore his responsibilities or else he’s fired,” Cuddy replied.
“Yeah, I will.” Wilson glanced at House. “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
“Okay.” There was a slight pause on her part. “And... thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Wilson hung up his cell phone and slid it into his pocket. He planted his hands on his hips as he looked over at House.
“She’s pissed,” House said, his eyes staying closed.
“She was worried,” Wilson offered.
“And now she’s pissed,” House replied. He cleared his throat and shifted on the couch. “I fell asleep. That’s why I didn’t call.”
“Why were you sleeping in the middle of the day?”
“You mean, in the morning?” House retorted with attitude.
“You’re destroying your life,” Wilson told him.
“Wow, really?”
House’s sarcasm struck a nerve in Wilson. He took a step back, shaking his head.
“Fine, House. Do whatever you want. You want to kill yourself with drugs? Okay. Just remember that there are people that care about you.” He paused a moment, his voice hardening. “Or, at least, there were.”
With that, Wilson turned and left House alone in his apartment.
Cuddy opened her front door and wheeled herself back. House pushed open the door further, revealing himself to her. He didn’t make eye contact.
“Hey.”
“You didn’t show up to work,” her tone told him she was not happy.
“No,” he simply replied.
“You didn’t answer your phone when I called,” she added.
“No.”
Cuddy eyed him up. He still wouldn’t look at her. She wondered how high he was and if he was going to throw up again. She didn’t really want to repeat the previous night. But, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I was worried,” she confessed to him.
“Sorry.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Sorry?” Cuddy repeated, raising her eyebrows. “What were you doing? Where were you? You just left last night and I didn’t-”
“I know,” he cut her off.
“What happened?” she asked, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice of wanting to know.
House finally raised his eyes to meet hers. They didn’t seem clouded or dilated. He appeared there, but she still couldn’t be sure.
“Let me in?”
He didn’t answer any of her questions, but she thought she might get the truth if she did let him inside. Cuddy wheeled herself back and House entered into her home. He limped toward her living room and she followed after him.
“Don’t lay on the floor again,” she called out to him as he disappeared into her living room.
When she reached the doorway, she saw him sitting on the couch. He picked up her remote control and turned on the television.
“You came over here to watch TV?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Looks like it,” he muttered in response, his eyes on the television.
Cuddy frowned, slightly annoyed, but she still believed that she could get him to talk if she let him stay.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.
“No,” he answered.
“Okay,” she replied and fell silent.
Cuddy parked herself next to the couch. She remained quiet, unsure of what to say. It was tricky, she knew that, and she didn’t want to mess it up. After two episodes of Seinfeld, she finally decided to speak up.
“What did you do today?”
House looked over at her. “What?”
“What did you do today?” she repeated. “You didn’t show up to work, so what were you doing?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“House.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“What?” he replied. “I slept. Sounds like nothing to me.”
“I want you to get help,” she told him.
“Don’t need it,” he replied.
“You’re unhappy, you’re taking way too many pills, and-” she cut herself off and quickly changed the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “-and you need help.”
She wanted to say that if it wasn’t for her, there wouldn’t be this mess. If she could walk, he wouldn’t feel so guilty. She frowned, wishing she could work on walking right now. As much as she wanted to walk before, she wanted it even more now if it meant House would feel better.
He rolled his eyes at her. “You exaggerate everything.”
“I do not,” she protested, glaring slightly at him. “Besides, you want help.”
“How can I want help if I know I don’t need it?” House asked her.
“You wouldn’t be here right now if you thought you didn’t need it.”
House ignored her and she studied him. He picked up the remote and began to flip through the channels.
“Do you want me to go to that dark place with you?” she said.
He frowned and looked over to her as he lowered the remote. The expression on his face showed his confusion.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about, House!” she replied angrily, tired of this back and forth, tired of this game.
He shook his head and began flipping through the stations again as he muttered, “shut up, Cuddy.”
She wheeled herself over to the television and turned it off. She turned her chair toward House, remaining directly in front of the TV. House gave an annoyed stare.
“I’m done letting you call the shots,” she told him. “You’re not going to keep taking all these pills, you’re not going to show up a wreck at my house, and you’re not going to miss work.”
House raised his eyebrows at her. “And how are you planning on making sure that happens?”
“By going with you into that dark place and making sure you come out alive,” she said. “You’re going to get help, House. I’m going to make sure of that.”
“Yeah, uh-huh.”
House stood from her couch, not wanting to take this anymore. He wasn’t even sure why he decided to show up at her home. Maybe it was to apologize, but that didn’t happen. He headed for the door. Cuddy wheeled herself after him.
“That’s fine, House. Leave. But, don’t think I’m going to give up. I will badger and harass you until you decide to get help for yourself.
“Fat chance that’s gonna happen, Cuddy,” House called over his shoulder and then left her house, closing the door behind him.
She let out a sigh. “You’ll see, House.”
Chapter Eleven.
Disclaimer: All rights belong to Fox and David Shore. I make no money from this.
Summary: Part of the hospital collapses, trapping House and Cuddy beneath the rubble. After extraction, there's going to be recovery.
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.
“Dr. Cuddy?”
Cuddy looked up from her place at the conference table. She realized Knott, Darling, and Federicks were all staring at her. Her eyebrows drew together.
“Hm?”
“I said I think by the end of this year, we’ll be able to afford the new x-ray machines despite the remodeling going on now,” Fredericks repeated his previous words.
“Uh-huh,” Cuddy replied, a bit apprehensively because she realized she had tuned out the second half of his sentence.
“Are you okay?” Federicks asked her.
“Yeah.” Cuddy nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You seem distracted,” Knott added.
“No, I, uh...” she trailed off, tired of this charade. There was a lot on her mind right now and she wasn’t okay. She forced a smile on her face. “Do you think we could continue this next week?”
“Next week?” Darling repeated.
“Yes,” Cuddy replied. “If it’s not a problem.”
“Well, no.” Darling began writing on his notepad. “I guess that’s fine.”
“Yeah, sure.” Federicks agreed.
“Okay.” Cuddy gave a short nod. “Thanks. And I’m really sorry about this. There’s just a lot happening right now...”
“That’s understandable,” Federicks said.
Cuddy drew in a breath and wheeled herself back. Fredericks stood from the table and hurried to the door, opening it for her. She wheeled herself out of the room and headed for the elevators.
When she got off the elevator, Cuddy couldn’t help, but feel somewhat hopeful, even though that feeling was intermixed with anxiety. She came closer to House’s office, needing to see him in there, but as she made it past the bunched up blinds, she saw that his office was empty.
A frown crossing over her face, Cuddy wheeled herself to the conference room. Chase quickly stood from his chair and opened the door for her. She remained outside the room however.
“Where’s House?” she asked the team, taking a look at Foreman and Cameron.
“He hasn’t come in,” Cameron told her.
“Has anyone been in touch with him?” Cuddy said.
“We left him messages, but he hasn’t called back,” Chase replied.
Cuddy drew in a breath and nodded. “Thanks.”
She wheeled herself back and headed toward Wilson’s office. She didn’t know where House was, his team didn’t know where he was, and she was just praying that Wilson did. It was getting to the point where she planning to leave work to go find him.
Cuddy knocked on the door and then waited. The door opened and Wilson looked down at her.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Have you talked to House?” Cuddy immediately cut to the chase.
“No,” Wilson answered. “Has he come in yet?”
“No.” Cuddy shook her head slightly. “I’m worried. After last night... I just... I’m really worried, James.”
“Do you want me to go to his house?” Wilson offered, raising his eyebrows.
“Would you?” Cuddy replied.
“I’ll run over quick and let you know,” Wilson told her.
“Thank you.” Cuddy let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s not a problem.” Wilson gave a short nod. “I’m worried, too.”
House had been staring at the wall for longer than he could remember. He had fallen asleep at her house, but when he awoke only a short time later and saw where he was, he realized he couldn’t continue to stay. He couldn’t bear to still be there in the morning.
Once he arrived home, he suddenly had no want for sleep. He felt tired, but he didn’t want to sleep. Instead, he sat on his couch and stared at the wall. He was sure he dozed off a few times, but never longer than twenty minutes at a time.
As he spent that time alone-time when he wasn’t working, time with his phone off, ignoring his life-it gave him a chance to think about his life. He was pitying himself, which he hated. He was disappointed in himself, which he also hated. House felt he wasn’t himself, but perhaps if he thought about his problems long enough, he might find a way back to the person he was before all of this happened.
He never wanted to be this bad, he never wanted to control his pain this way. Yeah, he used his Vicodin because he really didn’t have a choice if he wanted to function after the infarction, but now, things were different. He gave in and felt sorry for himself and that was making him even more miserable, which, in turn, led to increasing his Vicodin intake.
A steady headache had begun to grow ever since he arrived home and his analyzing only made it worse. By the time the morning light was peeking through the blinds, he was slumped over on the couch, an arm hanging off as he still tried to keep awake.
The loud knock on his door brought him from a light sleep. House looked around his apartment, his eyes blurry and burning. He focused his attention on the clock and read the time. He was confused for a moment, thinking it was one thirty in the morning, but then he realized it had to be the afternoon.
He sat up quickly, his head throbbing and the room swaying. Someone was at his door and using a key, which meant it could only be one of two people. He knew who it couldn’t be, which only left Wilson.
The door opened and House watched a fuzzy Wilson enter into his apartment. He let out a breath and flopped back down on the couch.
“Well, you’re alive,” Wilson said. “Thanks for letting the world know.”
“The world doesn’t care,” House replied, his voice sounding groggy.
“Thanks for letting us know,” Wilson corrected his statement.
“You don’t-”
“Why else would I be here?” Wilson cut him off, not giving House a chance to finish that sentence. He crossed towards the couch and peered over at House. “What the hell is going on, House? Lisa told me you showed up at her house last night and threw up on her porch.”
“I didn’t throw up on her porch,” House nastily told him as he let his eyes close.
Wilson sighed as he took out his cell phone. He knew Cuddy was anxious and he wanted to ease her worry. He called her and waited through one ring before she picked up.
“Is he okay?” Cuddy asked.
“Yeah,” Wilson answered. “I guess.”
“You guess?” Cuddy repeated.
“Well, he’s breathing,” Wilson said. “And speaking.”
“I’m right here,” House spoke up from the couch.
“And he still has his attitude,” Wilson added into the phone.
“Tell him that he better call into work the next time he wants to ignore his responsibilities or else he’s fired,” Cuddy replied.
“Yeah, I will.” Wilson glanced at House. “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
“Okay.” There was a slight pause on her part. “And... thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Wilson hung up his cell phone and slid it into his pocket. He planted his hands on his hips as he looked over at House.
“She’s pissed,” House said, his eyes staying closed.
“She was worried,” Wilson offered.
“And now she’s pissed,” House replied. He cleared his throat and shifted on the couch. “I fell asleep. That’s why I didn’t call.”
“Why were you sleeping in the middle of the day?”
“You mean, in the morning?” House retorted with attitude.
“You’re destroying your life,” Wilson told him.
“Wow, really?”
House’s sarcasm struck a nerve in Wilson. He took a step back, shaking his head.
“Fine, House. Do whatever you want. You want to kill yourself with drugs? Okay. Just remember that there are people that care about you.” He paused a moment, his voice hardening. “Or, at least, there were.”
With that, Wilson turned and left House alone in his apartment.
Cuddy opened her front door and wheeled herself back. House pushed open the door further, revealing himself to her. He didn’t make eye contact.
“Hey.”
“You didn’t show up to work,” her tone told him she was not happy.
“No,” he simply replied.
“You didn’t answer your phone when I called,” she added.
“No.”
Cuddy eyed him up. He still wouldn’t look at her. She wondered how high he was and if he was going to throw up again. She didn’t really want to repeat the previous night. But, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“I was worried,” she confessed to him.
“Sorry.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Sorry?” Cuddy repeated, raising her eyebrows. “What were you doing? Where were you? You just left last night and I didn’t-”
“I know,” he cut her off.
“What happened?” she asked, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice of wanting to know.
House finally raised his eyes to meet hers. They didn’t seem clouded or dilated. He appeared there, but she still couldn’t be sure.
“Let me in?”
He didn’t answer any of her questions, but she thought she might get the truth if she did let him inside. Cuddy wheeled herself back and House entered into her home. He limped toward her living room and she followed after him.
“Don’t lay on the floor again,” she called out to him as he disappeared into her living room.
When she reached the doorway, she saw him sitting on the couch. He picked up her remote control and turned on the television.
“You came over here to watch TV?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Looks like it,” he muttered in response, his eyes on the television.
Cuddy frowned, slightly annoyed, but she still believed that she could get him to talk if she let him stay.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.
“No,” he answered.
“Okay,” she replied and fell silent.
Cuddy parked herself next to the couch. She remained quiet, unsure of what to say. It was tricky, she knew that, and she didn’t want to mess it up. After two episodes of Seinfeld, she finally decided to speak up.
“What did you do today?”
House looked over at her. “What?”
“What did you do today?” she repeated. “You didn’t show up to work, so what were you doing?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“House.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“What?” he replied. “I slept. Sounds like nothing to me.”
“I want you to get help,” she told him.
“Don’t need it,” he replied.
“You’re unhappy, you’re taking way too many pills, and-” she cut herself off and quickly changed the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “-and you need help.”
She wanted to say that if it wasn’t for her, there wouldn’t be this mess. If she could walk, he wouldn’t feel so guilty. She frowned, wishing she could work on walking right now. As much as she wanted to walk before, she wanted it even more now if it meant House would feel better.
He rolled his eyes at her. “You exaggerate everything.”
“I do not,” she protested, glaring slightly at him. “Besides, you want help.”
“How can I want help if I know I don’t need it?” House asked her.
“You wouldn’t be here right now if you thought you didn’t need it.”
House ignored her and she studied him. He picked up the remote and began to flip through the channels.
“Do you want me to go to that dark place with you?” she said.
He frowned and looked over to her as he lowered the remote. The expression on his face showed his confusion.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about, House!” she replied angrily, tired of this back and forth, tired of this game.
He shook his head and began flipping through the stations again as he muttered, “shut up, Cuddy.”
She wheeled herself over to the television and turned it off. She turned her chair toward House, remaining directly in front of the TV. House gave an annoyed stare.
“I’m done letting you call the shots,” she told him. “You’re not going to keep taking all these pills, you’re not going to show up a wreck at my house, and you’re not going to miss work.”
House raised his eyebrows at her. “And how are you planning on making sure that happens?”
“By going with you into that dark place and making sure you come out alive,” she said. “You’re going to get help, House. I’m going to make sure of that.”
“Yeah, uh-huh.”
House stood from her couch, not wanting to take this anymore. He wasn’t even sure why he decided to show up at her home. Maybe it was to apologize, but that didn’t happen. He headed for the door. Cuddy wheeled herself after him.
“That’s fine, House. Leave. But, don’t think I’m going to give up. I will badger and harass you until you decide to get help for yourself.
“Fat chance that’s gonna happen, Cuddy,” House called over his shoulder and then left her house, closing the door behind him.
She let out a sigh. “You’ll see, House.”
Chapter Eleven.