"Pain. A feeling we all encounter at some point in our lives, whether we like it or not. We benefit from it, and we have our disadvantages.
Pain, can be a teacher. It can be full of discipline.
Pain, can be a friend. When you think, you have no one to turn to.
Pain, can oddly be a comfort. To those who truly need it.
Pain, can be many things. But the most common form that I have seen it as, is a strengthener. As strange as it seems, I have seen it, strengthen people, for the better."
-James Evan Wilson
House was on the freeway, twenty, maybe thirty minutos away. With one hand at the twelve o'clock position, he changed from lane to lane, thinking about only one thing--or person, you could say.
He looked like he was thinking as he glared out onto the road. He seemed, focused. What that was, was still in question.
Eventually, House pulled up into a Marriott parking lot, and parked his car in the first handicap o espaço he could find. He got out, being wary of his leg, and went for his duffel bag in the trunk, then entered.
As soon as he walked in, the woman running the front escrivaninha, mesa immediately started talking to him.
"I have your room key all set for you."
"Is this free?"
"No, this is courtesy of Dr. Yvenstier. He's paid for all your expenses. You're in room 246."
He limped awkwardly up to the escrivaninha, mesa to receive his card, and nodded at her and began to walk out of the lobby. He passed through the halls and met an elevator. He went directly in, and went for the segundo floor. Within minutos he found his room, and entered, then collapsed on his cama to rest after tossing his duffel bag onto the couch. Reaching into his pocket, he snatched out his phone to check the time. Ten passed eleven. Then he saw a missed alert and then checked to see what it was.
U there yet? Call me
as soon as you get
there and in your
10:57pm Wed, July 2
He snickered at her concern, and called her up. It rang a few times before she answered.
"You really found it necessary to send that?"
"It's me House, of course it is."
"Why do you still call him House? In all my years knowing you two, you've never called him por Greg."
"Neither have you."
"Whose that in the background?"
"You've called, everyone por their first name at least ONCE. But, not House. Never House."
"Shut up Wilson."
"You don't have to call me Greg. I find it--unnecessary."
"And you'd hate it anyway."
"You've called Cameron, Allison, Chase, Robert, Foreman, Eric, Thirteen, Remy, you even called her por her real last name Hadley. I'm not sure about Taub though. Have you?"
"Shut up Wilson."
"See the piece of work you get stuck with when I'm gone?"
"Yeah. For once, I've learned to appreciate your narcissism and sarcasm."
"So what you up to over there?"
"I am at a club, and I have the sexiest stripper alive, on my lap."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Because you trust me?"
"No, because first of all, the sexiest stripper alive is me, and I haven't put on a show for you yet."
"Well--technically you have. In a fantasy-hallucination scenario."
"Remember the accident? How I busted up my head?"
"Remember when--let's make this easier, remember when I threw up on your shoes?"
"After your bath? Yeah."
"In the bath, we had a differential--while you stripped."
"But what? What else is there mais to that? Or are you talking about your ass?"
"Are you drunk or something?"
"No, I slipped him some meds."
"But, right when that glorious moment came for the garments to come off--you ended it."
"Figures. Dating or not, if we needed to solve a differential, we would solve that differential."
"How did you know there was a 'but'?"
"There's always a catch."
"Yeah. Well, I'm going to go head down to MTH. You go deal with speed boy over there, and I'll call you later."
"Right. Talk to you later. amor you."
"Love you too."
He hung up, and smiled, but before heading down to MTH, he decided to take a walk through the city.
Fifteen minutos later 11:35 a.m.
House limped through the streets of Manhattan, looking through all the windows and corner shops around. It was a perfect dia to be walking. The sun was perfectly over the city, basking in its glory as all the citizens walked through the streets.
Despite all their presence, House, felt so alone.
He took long strides in the center of the crowd that was slowly swallowing him. He had on his usual angered face, squinted eyes, and a steady grin. But he was hidden beneath the crowd, as if he was hiding. But he eventually broke from the crowd, and shifted to the side, where he found his attention elsewhere--through a window. He quickly past through a group of people, and made his way inside.
Hours later at Manhattan Teaching Hospital 4:47 p.m.
House was sitting in the corner, away from everyone else in the drug trials. Meeting with Dr. Yvenstier had already been done, and now he had no pleasure in actually participating in the drug trials. And one person to notice this came over to him, and tried some conversation.
"Diagnostician at your service." he said sarcastically.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Jillian Kingston?"
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"It shouldn't. To you at least."
"Nice to meet you." After her remark, he became interested.
"I'm a friend of Dr. Yvenstier. I'm a psychologist."
"That benefits me how?"
"You need help don't you?"
"How do you know I need help."
"Doesn't everyone need a little help with themselves?" Even doctors like you?"
"Granted. What's my problem then, cause well--I don't have a clue."
"By the way you're sitting and your stare alone tell me already that you're troubled."
"There are never just personal problems between a psychologist and their patients."
"Okay then, I'm uncomfortable with the size of my penis. I find it way too large for my liking."
"Point taken. This seems like a serious problem however."
"The penis thing or my actual problem?"
"I can go at this all dia House. You might as well tell me what your problem is."
"Seriously, why do I need to tell you? I'm sure I didn't ask for help. I'm sure I didn't confront you with my problem, whether or not I have one, and why have you come over to me in the first place?"
"Why, you got a girlfriend? Doubt it, but I'm taking a shot here."
"She mean a lot to you?"
"How sick is she?"
"Healthier than ever."
"Terminal? See, just por you responding stupid answers, I can figure you out. Your statement, asking me why I came over, shows that you're protecting yourself and you get defensive. Saying she meant a lot to you means the problem was with her, and exactly how you said it, defines that she's sick. You defending that she's healthier than ever, proves that you're saying the opposite meaning, she's sicker than ever and the fact that you said ever, reflects life, saying that she's sick and her life is on the line. So? Cancer, and its terminal and you filled in all the other blanks."
"Well done Kingston."
"I try my best."
"I left her behind to go to this damn thing."
"If you didn't want to go, and you went anyways--she made you?"
"Can't stop worrying or thinking about her?"
"I see. Well, is she in good care?"
"I hope so. Otherwise she's damned for sure."
"Then why worry? You not being there to save her from death scares you? Do you think that if you're not there, something will automatically happen to her?"
"Why do you believe so?"
His pager went off. He looked down, and then looked back up at Kingston.
"Well, to answer all three of your questions: One, I worry, because I amor her. I am capable of that emotion por the way. Two, it does scare me that I'm not there to save her. Because, not only can I not save her, but goodbyes are left unsaid. And three, I'm always right, cause that page told me she's having a coração attack so, give my regards to Yvenstier and my apologies for my early departure. Good talking Kingston. Keep in touch."
She looked at him in shock as he got up, and began limping out of there over to his car. He revved up the engine and headed straight for the freeway, without returning to the hotel and without even a glance back.