FICLET: Hero Takes a Fall - House
For nolivingman:
Hero Takes a Fall
Lisa is exhausted. She knows she should turn around and go to her office, get her things, and go home. She also knows she can’t do any of those things. Instead, she makes her way down the quiet hallways, listening to the distant sounds of machinery. She knows the mechanical sounds are disturbing to some patients and visitors. She sees them looking at ventilators and monitors as if they’re equally to blame as whatever illness has put them or their loved ones in this place, but to her, they’re reassuring. They mean hearts are beating, breaths are being taken. They are the sounds of life going on as best it can.
In some places though, life has stopped and in others it’s stalled. House’s room is the latter and he lies there in his bed watching for Wilson to walk by, barely giving Lisa the time of day when she stops in to see him. Of course, time is a concept he’s given up on, watching the clock has lost all its meaning, and she’s the only one who knows how many hours have gone by, how many days. Wilson, on the other hand, has stopped. Everything that matters to him is gone - swung on the balance of fate and crashed against the wall of irony. Amber is dead and House killed her, and Wilson can’t forgive himself for loving House enough that Amber took care of him, and he can’t forgive himself for being so caught up in House’s case that he didn’t question where Amber was in time to save her life.
She stops halfway to House’s room and switches directions, heading towards Wilson’s office. The light coming in from the windows is a grayish brightness that floods the room in warmth that never quite manages to take away the chill. He’s standing in the doorway, looking out at nothing, and she closes the door behind her, making sure he hears it click. “James.”
“This time isn’t going to be any different than the last five, Lisa. Amber’s still dead, and until that changes, I can’t go in there and play the patsy for him again.” His hand is on the window, and she can see the outline of his print, like a halo around his flesh. “And don’t give me any bull either.” He shakes his head and she closes her mouth, whatever she was going to say dying on her lips. “You and I both know that if I go in there, that’s exactly where I’ll end up. I’m tired, Lisa. Too tired and broken to fight with him.”
“Maybe if he sees that, he’ll leave you alone.” She’s surprised by the words as much as he seems to be, though he doesn’t turn to look at her. “You’re sort of his moral compass, James. If he sees you like this…”
“I can’t tell him it’s wrong, Lisa. How do I tell him he did the wrong thing when he actually did the right thing? He called someone to come and get him. He called me, which is what I’m there for, right? Best friends.” He leans his head against the wall and his breath creates ghosts on the glass. “But she’s dead and I can’t get past the fact that he killed her. He killed her and he forgot and she’s dead.”
“He did everything to remember, James. Risked his life.”
“I know.” He finally looks at her, and she feels the sharp pain of grief that’s so clear in his eyes. “But it was too late.”
“That wasn’t his fault.”
“I know that too, Lisa.” He turns back to the window, shutting her out as effectively as if he’d walked onto the balcony and closed the glass door. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t blame him anyway.”
Hero Takes a Fall
Lisa is exhausted. She knows she should turn around and go to her office, get her things, and go home. She also knows she can’t do any of those things. Instead, she makes her way down the quiet hallways, listening to the distant sounds of machinery. She knows the mechanical sounds are disturbing to some patients and visitors. She sees them looking at ventilators and monitors as if they’re equally to blame as whatever illness has put them or their loved ones in this place, but to her, they’re reassuring. They mean hearts are beating, breaths are being taken. They are the sounds of life going on as best it can.
In some places though, life has stopped and in others it’s stalled. House’s room is the latter and he lies there in his bed watching for Wilson to walk by, barely giving Lisa the time of day when she stops in to see him. Of course, time is a concept he’s given up on, watching the clock has lost all its meaning, and she’s the only one who knows how many hours have gone by, how many days. Wilson, on the other hand, has stopped. Everything that matters to him is gone - swung on the balance of fate and crashed against the wall of irony. Amber is dead and House killed her, and Wilson can’t forgive himself for loving House enough that Amber took care of him, and he can’t forgive himself for being so caught up in House’s case that he didn’t question where Amber was in time to save her life.
She stops halfway to House’s room and switches directions, heading towards Wilson’s office. The light coming in from the windows is a grayish brightness that floods the room in warmth that never quite manages to take away the chill. He’s standing in the doorway, looking out at nothing, and she closes the door behind her, making sure he hears it click. “James.”
“This time isn’t going to be any different than the last five, Lisa. Amber’s still dead, and until that changes, I can’t go in there and play the patsy for him again.” His hand is on the window, and she can see the outline of his print, like a halo around his flesh. “And don’t give me any bull either.” He shakes his head and she closes her mouth, whatever she was going to say dying on her lips. “You and I both know that if I go in there, that’s exactly where I’ll end up. I’m tired, Lisa. Too tired and broken to fight with him.”
“Maybe if he sees that, he’ll leave you alone.” She’s surprised by the words as much as he seems to be, though he doesn’t turn to look at her. “You’re sort of his moral compass, James. If he sees you like this…”
“I can’t tell him it’s wrong, Lisa. How do I tell him he did the wrong thing when he actually did the right thing? He called someone to come and get him. He called me, which is what I’m there for, right? Best friends.” He leans his head against the wall and his breath creates ghosts on the glass. “But she’s dead and I can’t get past the fact that he killed her. He killed her and he forgot and she’s dead.”
“He did everything to remember, James. Risked his life.”
“I know.” He finally looks at her, and she feels the sharp pain of grief that’s so clear in his eyes. “But it was too late.”
“That wasn’t his fault.”
“I know that too, Lisa.” He turns back to the window, shutting her out as effectively as if he’d walked onto the balcony and closed the glass door. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t blame him anyway.”