(Untitled)

[misanthrope_md]

As he got closer and closer to the bottom of the last bottle of Vicodin (at least, the last one that he had rationed for himself - he'd left one in the clinic first, intent on telling someone to hide it from him for a few weeks), House started to dwell on the evidence bag again, on what he'd seen on the reel, the stupid cop, himself in jail. How

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[captainjack]

Jack had been working on Tosh's gift for Mimi every day and he was to the point where all he could do was polish. It gave him something to do with his hands and kept him busy. Kept him from thinking about how fast the pills were disappearing. He'd talked to Cuddy, and Trance had hounded him a little, but mostly he'd kept quiet. He was preparing in his own way, taking things from the compoud storage and stowing them in the hut. Extra blankets. Buckets. A coffee pot, the kind he could set on the wood stove in their hut. He thought he was prepared.

That's what he thought until he walked in the rec room and saw Greg on the screen. He looked like fine as he pointed to a figure of the Christ and told him to go tell the Romans.

Jack didn't watch these reels. Not unless he was with Greg...but Greg was right there. If he stayed in the doorway, if he kept quiet long enough, he might get through the whole thing.

...mom, I guess you guys are already up at Aunt Sarah's. I'm sure dad's in the eggnog and you're probably suffering through

[misanthrope_md]

House continued to stare at the screen as the credits flashed and then it went black. He felt sick. After a while he hadn't been sure he could keep watching, but he had to know how it ended.

Now that he knew, he wished he'd just stopped watching. Or maybe even that he'd never found that damn bag full of Vicodin in the first place.

He thought he heard a sound, and then he turned his head to see Jack, looking stunned, on the floor by the door.

"Oh, fuck."

[captainjack]

He just sat there, stunned. He was still looking at the screen, even though there wasn't anything there anymore. He blinked, shook his head, and finally looked at Greg.

"So...when you said bad..."

[misanthrope_md]

"Jack..."

God how he wished Jack hadn't seen that. No one should see that.

"It's not that bad. It won't be that bad."

[doctorcuddymd]

Cuddy started watching and didn't move until it ended.

From the doorway, she'd seen House's image and from that point on it had been all down hill. Wanting to look away, and yet absolutely unable to. Her fingers silently bit into the doorframe, holding there and at the same time not giving her presence away. Because he wouldn't want anyone to see this, and she wasn't an exception.

So it wasn't until after the reel ended, until after Wilson had come through the door and found House on the floor of his own apartment, sprawled out in the same way she'd described possible to Jack, that Cuddy shifted. She let her hip bump against the door, and declined fighting the inevitable any longer.

She walked into the rec room.

[misanthrope_md]

House continued to stare at the screen as the credits flashed and then it went black When he heard the sound, he turned and saw Cuddy.

"Oh, Christ."

[doctorcuddymd]

Cuddy didn't even bother reassuring him, or flinging around any words that were just going to waste time and breath. Because it was bad, what she had seen was bad, and if he was out of pills - it was just going to be that bad again.

She shook her head. "Don't even bother worrying about it. I'm not going to say anything to anyone, blah blah." But her eyes were still tired with what she'd seen, and the lack of sleep she'd been getting since talking with Jack.

She'd cut off his Vicodin in the reel. And now she'd do it again.

[misanthrope_md]

"I know that look," House said irritably. "You're upset. It's not real, Cuddy."

[real_buzzkill]

House was watching those films again, and Wilson stood in the doorway for 45 minutes, silent until he saw himself find his friend's body in a pool of his own vomit.

That can't be real, he told himself.

"Idiot," he said aloud. "You never change."

[misanthrope_md]

When House heard that voice, in combination with what was on the screen, his entire body tensed.

And then he said that, and...

House turned to him, looking some strange combination of furious and wounded. He couldn't even think of what to say to that.

[real_buzzkill]

"For once in my life, I stand up to you," Wilson muttered. His life here was bizarre, to say the least, and not it looked like home was no better. Strike that, home was worse. Now would have been a good time for House do something rash like apologize, except that he never did that kind of thing.

"You used me to feed your habit, and I just let you. I'm the idiot."

[misanthrope_md]

House just stared at him in disbelief. "That's not real, Wilson," he snapped. "None of it actually happened. Which is a damn good thing because I prefer not to think of you as throwing me to the wolves."