Fic: Giving In
I just watched 'Bombshells' yesterday and for the rest of the day I was irrationally angry. And then I felt like breaking some hearts... mostly mine, it seems, 'cause I got in a mood and wrote this. I'm reluctant to post this anywhere but here so...
Title: Giving In
Characters: House, Wilson
Rating: PG
Summary: Post Ep. for 7x15 Bombshells
Warning: Character death, suicide.
Here he is again. Like a never ending circle of pain and misery, it finds him, catches up with him. It is inevitable. Maybe happiness - true happiness - was meant for others and not for him. He’d accepted it long ago, but still, it hurt to have a taste of it only for it to be pulled out from under him.
Once, when Wilson abandoned him. Twice, when Cuddy did the same.
So here he is again. This time there is no one to stop him from doing what he wanted to do all those months ago.
He can feel it taking effect. Closing his eyes seems like such a good idea. Sleep is what he needs.
He hadn’t even thought of Wilson before he decided to finish off the entire bottle. What difference would it have made? Thinking of him would not have changed his mind. If anything, it would have given him more reason. He was never one to think of doing this to spite anyone, or to make anyone feel guilty. No, rest assured his motives are completely selfish. He’s only thinking of himself. No one would expect any less of him.
And maybe Wilson doesn’t care anyway.
His eyes are closed for what seems like only seconds before a hand is pushing repeatedly, insistently against his shoulder. He opens his eyes and sees Wilson, the panic in his face. He wonders how Wilson got here. How did he know he was here? He always seems to find him.
Too late. Too late.
Wilson is talking into his phone now. He can hear the fast blur of his speech, the anxiety; but he can’t make out the words. He feels his eyes close again. Instant relief.
Then a hand on his face. He looks at Wilson again.
Now both his hands on either side of his face. He can feel them.
He can’t be sure, but he thinks Wilson might be crying. He never liked it when anyone cried, when any of the people he cared about were hurting. He was never sure what to do or how to comfort them. He was no good at it.
He’s of no comfort to him now either. Wilson will be sad for a while. He might even hate him, but he’s kind of glad he’s here with him at the end. He’s being selfish again. He can’t help it. And it’s too late to change now.
Wilson’s mouth is moving, slowly now, tears in his eyes.
He still can't make out what he’s saying. He fades in and out.
Everything he feels and everything he knows to be true are all the things he’ll keep inside. He’ll never tell him.
He never told him.
He looks into Wilson’s eyes as he takes his last breath.
He’s sorry.
Title: Giving In
Characters: House, Wilson
Rating: PG
Summary: Post Ep. for 7x15 Bombshells
Warning: Character death, suicide.
Here he is again. Like a never ending circle of pain and misery, it finds him, catches up with him. It is inevitable. Maybe happiness - true happiness - was meant for others and not for him. He’d accepted it long ago, but still, it hurt to have a taste of it only for it to be pulled out from under him.
Once, when Wilson abandoned him. Twice, when Cuddy did the same.
So here he is again. This time there is no one to stop him from doing what he wanted to do all those months ago.
He can feel it taking effect. Closing his eyes seems like such a good idea. Sleep is what he needs.
He hadn’t even thought of Wilson before he decided to finish off the entire bottle. What difference would it have made? Thinking of him would not have changed his mind. If anything, it would have given him more reason. He was never one to think of doing this to spite anyone, or to make anyone feel guilty. No, rest assured his motives are completely selfish. He’s only thinking of himself. No one would expect any less of him.
And maybe Wilson doesn’t care anyway.
His eyes are closed for what seems like only seconds before a hand is pushing repeatedly, insistently against his shoulder. He opens his eyes and sees Wilson, the panic in his face. He wonders how Wilson got here. How did he know he was here? He always seems to find him.
Too late. Too late.
Wilson is talking into his phone now. He can hear the fast blur of his speech, the anxiety; but he can’t make out the words. He feels his eyes close again. Instant relief.
Then a hand on his face. He looks at Wilson again.
Now both his hands on either side of his face. He can feel them.
He can’t be sure, but he thinks Wilson might be crying. He never liked it when anyone cried, when any of the people he cared about were hurting. He was never sure what to do or how to comfort them. He was no good at it.
He’s of no comfort to him now either. Wilson will be sad for a while. He might even hate him, but he’s kind of glad he’s here with him at the end. He’s being selfish again. He can’t help it. And it’s too late to change now.
Wilson’s mouth is moving, slowly now, tears in his eyes.
He still can't make out what he’s saying. He fades in and out.
Everything he feels and everything he knows to be true are all the things he’ll keep inside. He’ll never tell him.
He never told him.
He looks into Wilson’s eyes as he takes his last breath.
He’s sorry.