seguinte chapter up! thanks for the comments!
Placing Blame.
“House…!” Cuddy stormed over to where Wilson was holding the now lifeless man in his arms: “What did you do, Wilson!” Her fingers affectionately caressed House’s cheek as she tried to pierce Wilson with her stare… which was reasonably intimidating, but Wilson had had some practice in the many years he had spent alongside House:
“Cuddy, I did not do anything… I’m afraid he’s going to have to tell you what happened here because I can’t… but I didn’t do anything; I swear I only apologized.” She believed him: words that had flowed out of his mouth in mourning lost all credibility when she saw him sitting seguinte to her: cradling House in his arms.
“Okay… I believe you. But then why…?” her eyes softened when she saw the tears on House’s face. Looking up and realizing that Wilson’s face was stained with tears as well, she whispered: “What happened, Wilson?”
Wilson sighed: “It’s not my place to tell you… House trusts me again, Cuddy. He was honest with me… painfully honest. I can’t… betray his trust right after he gives it to me… and I know you’ve been the one trying to be there for him since he came out of the coma but I think, that’s kind of… my job, you know?” throughout the whole sentence, Wilson was looking at House: the unexplained chemistry between them was still there… though many things were lost in the fires of yesterday, they were still intact, their friendship was, too… all relationships prove to be fragile one way or another: in the world of House and Wilson, everything was magnified: bigger, better… or worse.
“Yeah… I know. But… the things you said…”
“I didn’t mean those things! He… thought I did, too. He was hallucinating when I got here… pretty bad. Didn’t believe I was here… thought I was just a part of it. Has he had hallucinations before? I mean that vivid?” Wilson knew nothing… had not been there to witness the consequences of House’s amor towards him up until this point.
And Cuddy had.
“He fainted, Cuddy… pure overdose of emotion mais or less separated from the hallucination but… I need you to tell me… what I’ve done. What I’ve done to him.” Wilson’s head was bowed in defeat and shame, for he was a guardian and he would never in his right mind inflict harm upon his charge… he just hadn’t been thinking!
Thinking & calculating.
Two most valued processes in the brain of all diagnosticians… of vital importance to who they were and how they saved lives.
Both disrupted now: House no longer trusted his brain.
Where in former days he trusted it like a medieval peasant trusted god, it showed him falsities now, couldn’t do the math… and as Wilson had made clear, House wasn’t an actual person… he was the brain that always knew, held all answers. Even the answer Wilson didn’t want he had delivered… but that really didn’t matter, did it? Only the good respostas were allowed, the positive things… but sometimes there just weren’t any, like in his life.
And Cuddy told Wilson this, all of it: using harsh words, many a time raising her voice in anger or lowering it in sadness: not even bothering to soften the blow he had requested:
Up until today, Wilson had thought that this whole ordeal had only cost him… House didn’t think he could still do his job, he… he even viewed himself as being mentally unstable!
And… he was.
He couldn’t separate fact from fiction anymore… had to double-check every image before him, every letter in every sentence spoken to him…
Wilson cried, shameful tears dropping onto the floor, his head bowed and hand firmly gripping House’s…
“I’m so sorry… Cuddy I-“
“I’m not the one that needs to hear it… he is.” Cuddy interrupted him, and he agreed.
“I’ll tell him, then…” Wilson was looking at House with sympathy in his eyes… House needed him.
Where normally Cuddy would’ve tried to comfort Wilson, she stood up and coldly said: “Let’s clean up this mess.” The double meaning behind her words wasn’t lost on Wilson, who came into the office intending to do so.
Wilson threw House’s arm around his neck and half-carried him to his beloved recliner, where he affectionately draped a blanket over him in a fashion that reminded one of a mother tucking in her child. Cuddy mopped up the vomit and then watched: regaining her trust in Wilson as she saw him fussing over House’s pillows, House’s blanket, the blinds… he was willing to make an effort, therefore she was willing to make an effort, too.
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About an hora later, when Wilson and Cuddy where both kneeling beside House, each holding a hand and looking at what had now become their charge, House woke up.
“I have two now?” He sounded amused, and hoarse.
Cuddy and Wilson both smiled; finally accepting each others’ presence so close to House.
“Yeah, well… You know I can’t help myself.” Wilson’s cheeks were turning a delightful shade of red as he spoke, making Cuddy… well, smirk, in a frighteningly House-like fashion.
“I trust that the two of you will still be alive when I enter this office tomorrow?” A skeptical eyebrow rose as Cuddy spoke.
“He’s not coming in tomorrow, neither am I.” Wilson said.
At this, all hope House had that anterior events were just part of some horrid nightmare was gone: “My mother really is dead, isn’t she?” Childish innocence to which Wilson could only nod, sadly.
House’s face fell, as did Cuddy’s:
“Oh House… I’m sorry…” She tried to touch him, he couldn’t be touched right now… Cuddy’s hand hung limply in mid-air as House backed away from her:
“I’m not going to…” She tried again; He couldn’t be touched right now!
“Don’t…!” Wilson arms were now the only thing that prevented House from falling on the floor.
“House… you’re not solving anything… and I know you think you’re light as a feather but you really aren’t so don’t make me carry you... do I need to ask you to calm down again? ‘Cause I know you’d hate that. At least try to calm down… and I’ll stop saying that when you calm down, so if it really bothers you that much I’d start relaxing… and stop pushing Cuddy away.”
“You pushed Cuddy away, too, you know?” House had a point there… at least House thought he had a point there.
“Yeah, because I wasn’t thinking clearly and there was no one there to tell me not to… now you’re not thinking clearly and I’m telling you not to push her away.”
“Not thinking clearly?” A amargo, amarga and humorless laugh rolled out of House’s mouth: “Whose fault is that! You don’t get to screw me up and then tell me that I’m not thinking clearly!” anger, understandable anger… but screwed up? House wasn’t screwed up!
“This is my fault… I never should’ve let you do something that stupid but you are not screwed up! I know you’re confused right now but it’s going to get better, do you hear me? The seguinte few weeks… months maybe, will be harsh, but after that… after that we will be alright and, well… if you don’t start calming down there will be nothing after this, which is my fault, but still the truth.” House repositioned himself on the chair, purposefully avoiding Cuddy’s eyes.
“I’m not pissed at you… just worried.” She smiled apologetically… she was just like Wilson now: she couldn’t help herself either.
“Take some time off, House. I’ll give both of you a month… after that I want you,” she looked at Wilson. “back here.”
“That’s okay… thanks.” Wilson smiled.
“When you want to tell me what happened to your mother, you know where I’ll be… but you’re going to rest now.” Although the squeeze she gave House’s shoulder showed her sympathy and support, her voice was tuned in to a pure threat… House was tired anyway.
“Night, House.”
“Night, Cuddy…” a heavy sigh could be heard,
Cuddy smiled.
House smiled.
Wilson laughed out loud at their antics and they joined each other in a death glare…
Thus making Wilson laugh even harder.
Maybe they’d be alright after all.
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[b]Author’s Notes: must say I really put my coração into this… hope you enjoyed it.[/i]
Placing Blame.
“House…!” Cuddy stormed over to where Wilson was holding the now lifeless man in his arms: “What did you do, Wilson!” Her fingers affectionately caressed House’s cheek as she tried to pierce Wilson with her stare… which was reasonably intimidating, but Wilson had had some practice in the many years he had spent alongside House:
“Cuddy, I did not do anything… I’m afraid he’s going to have to tell you what happened here because I can’t… but I didn’t do anything; I swear I only apologized.” She believed him: words that had flowed out of his mouth in mourning lost all credibility when she saw him sitting seguinte to her: cradling House in his arms.
“Okay… I believe you. But then why…?” her eyes softened when she saw the tears on House’s face. Looking up and realizing that Wilson’s face was stained with tears as well, she whispered: “What happened, Wilson?”
Wilson sighed: “It’s not my place to tell you… House trusts me again, Cuddy. He was honest with me… painfully honest. I can’t… betray his trust right after he gives it to me… and I know you’ve been the one trying to be there for him since he came out of the coma but I think, that’s kind of… my job, you know?” throughout the whole sentence, Wilson was looking at House: the unexplained chemistry between them was still there… though many things were lost in the fires of yesterday, they were still intact, their friendship was, too… all relationships prove to be fragile one way or another: in the world of House and Wilson, everything was magnified: bigger, better… or worse.
“Yeah… I know. But… the things you said…”
“I didn’t mean those things! He… thought I did, too. He was hallucinating when I got here… pretty bad. Didn’t believe I was here… thought I was just a part of it. Has he had hallucinations before? I mean that vivid?” Wilson knew nothing… had not been there to witness the consequences of House’s amor towards him up until this point.
And Cuddy had.
“He fainted, Cuddy… pure overdose of emotion mais or less separated from the hallucination but… I need you to tell me… what I’ve done. What I’ve done to him.” Wilson’s head was bowed in defeat and shame, for he was a guardian and he would never in his right mind inflict harm upon his charge… he just hadn’t been thinking!
Thinking & calculating.
Two most valued processes in the brain of all diagnosticians… of vital importance to who they were and how they saved lives.
Both disrupted now: House no longer trusted his brain.
Where in former days he trusted it like a medieval peasant trusted god, it showed him falsities now, couldn’t do the math… and as Wilson had made clear, House wasn’t an actual person… he was the brain that always knew, held all answers. Even the answer Wilson didn’t want he had delivered… but that really didn’t matter, did it? Only the good respostas were allowed, the positive things… but sometimes there just weren’t any, like in his life.
And Cuddy told Wilson this, all of it: using harsh words, many a time raising her voice in anger or lowering it in sadness: not even bothering to soften the blow he had requested:
Up until today, Wilson had thought that this whole ordeal had only cost him… House didn’t think he could still do his job, he… he even viewed himself as being mentally unstable!
And… he was.
He couldn’t separate fact from fiction anymore… had to double-check every image before him, every letter in every sentence spoken to him…
Wilson cried, shameful tears dropping onto the floor, his head bowed and hand firmly gripping House’s…
“I’m so sorry… Cuddy I-“
“I’m not the one that needs to hear it… he is.” Cuddy interrupted him, and he agreed.
“I’ll tell him, then…” Wilson was looking at House with sympathy in his eyes… House needed him.
Where normally Cuddy would’ve tried to comfort Wilson, she stood up and coldly said: “Let’s clean up this mess.” The double meaning behind her words wasn’t lost on Wilson, who came into the office intending to do so.
Wilson threw House’s arm around his neck and half-carried him to his beloved recliner, where he affectionately draped a blanket over him in a fashion that reminded one of a mother tucking in her child. Cuddy mopped up the vomit and then watched: regaining her trust in Wilson as she saw him fussing over House’s pillows, House’s blanket, the blinds… he was willing to make an effort, therefore she was willing to make an effort, too.
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About an hora later, when Wilson and Cuddy where both kneeling beside House, each holding a hand and looking at what had now become their charge, House woke up.
“I have two now?” He sounded amused, and hoarse.
Cuddy and Wilson both smiled; finally accepting each others’ presence so close to House.
“Yeah, well… You know I can’t help myself.” Wilson’s cheeks were turning a delightful shade of red as he spoke, making Cuddy… well, smirk, in a frighteningly House-like fashion.
“I trust that the two of you will still be alive when I enter this office tomorrow?” A skeptical eyebrow rose as Cuddy spoke.
“He’s not coming in tomorrow, neither am I.” Wilson said.
At this, all hope House had that anterior events were just part of some horrid nightmare was gone: “My mother really is dead, isn’t she?” Childish innocence to which Wilson could only nod, sadly.
House’s face fell, as did Cuddy’s:
“Oh House… I’m sorry…” She tried to touch him, he couldn’t be touched right now… Cuddy’s hand hung limply in mid-air as House backed away from her:
“I’m not going to…” She tried again; He couldn’t be touched right now!
“Don’t…!” Wilson arms were now the only thing that prevented House from falling on the floor.
“House… you’re not solving anything… and I know you think you’re light as a feather but you really aren’t so don’t make me carry you... do I need to ask you to calm down again? ‘Cause I know you’d hate that. At least try to calm down… and I’ll stop saying that when you calm down, so if it really bothers you that much I’d start relaxing… and stop pushing Cuddy away.”
“You pushed Cuddy away, too, you know?” House had a point there… at least House thought he had a point there.
“Yeah, because I wasn’t thinking clearly and there was no one there to tell me not to… now you’re not thinking clearly and I’m telling you not to push her away.”
“Not thinking clearly?” A amargo, amarga and humorless laugh rolled out of House’s mouth: “Whose fault is that! You don’t get to screw me up and then tell me that I’m not thinking clearly!” anger, understandable anger… but screwed up? House wasn’t screwed up!
“This is my fault… I never should’ve let you do something that stupid but you are not screwed up! I know you’re confused right now but it’s going to get better, do you hear me? The seguinte few weeks… months maybe, will be harsh, but after that… after that we will be alright and, well… if you don’t start calming down there will be nothing after this, which is my fault, but still the truth.” House repositioned himself on the chair, purposefully avoiding Cuddy’s eyes.
“I’m not pissed at you… just worried.” She smiled apologetically… she was just like Wilson now: she couldn’t help herself either.
“Take some time off, House. I’ll give both of you a month… after that I want you,” she looked at Wilson. “back here.”
“That’s okay… thanks.” Wilson smiled.
“When you want to tell me what happened to your mother, you know where I’ll be… but you’re going to rest now.” Although the squeeze she gave House’s shoulder showed her sympathy and support, her voice was tuned in to a pure threat… House was tired anyway.
“Night, House.”
“Night, Cuddy…” a heavy sigh could be heard,
Cuddy smiled.
House smiled.
Wilson laughed out loud at their antics and they joined each other in a death glare…
Thus making Wilson laugh even harder.
Maybe they’d be alright after all.
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[b]Author’s Notes: must say I really put my coração into this… hope you enjoyed it.[/i]
