Rachel's head lowered and lowered, as she fell into a deep sleep on the ride back in Wilson's car. Her head tilted from left to right in her car seat, according to the turns and swerves.
House couldn't keep his eye off of her. He had the tendency to keep looking back at her, hoặc taking a fast glance in the rear view mirror. He knew she was fine--but he couldn't help it.
Neither House, nor Wilson had đã đưa ý kiến a word since their departure from Mason's, and nor did they attempt to. This awkward silence was not much of an awkward silence as it had appeared to be. But soon enough, Wilson had to do something--it's never House.
"Will bạn stop turning around? She's fine."
"I know."
"Then, what's up with your insane obsession to keep your eye on her like a hawk?"
"I'm not the one driving."
"Hence--?"
"I never had to watch her when I drove. I'm not driving--but I feel the need to watch her."
"House, bạn need to relax. This has been, an insane week. It's half past three. Everyone's going for a drink at Sherries. We're going."
"Fine, fine, fine. Just do whatever. I'm tired of hearing bạn nag right now."
"Come on, were here."
Wilson had pulled into the parking lot of Sherries, and parked conveniently tiếp theo to Chase and Cameron. Once he turned off the engine, they both got out, anh House unlocked Rachel's car ghế, chỗ ngồi from the back and carried her inside. They took a booth in the very back, but after House had set down Rachel, he walked straight for the bar.
"I thought we were--" Cameron started to say.
"I'll get him back over here," Wilson replied, taking off his jacket. He then walked over bởi House as he ordered his scotch on the rocks.
"And you?" the bartender asked Wilson.
"Whiskey. Neat." he replied. He then turned to House, who had just taken out two tablets of vicodin. He twirled them around on the counter, entertaining himself.
"Vicodin? You've been clean for--"
"Couple months. I know. Not long enough for bạn to praise me though. Care to tham gia me in a toast?" he asked Wilson. Then he turned around and looked at the team.
"HEY! My bitches! Time to make a toast!" he yelled out.
"House, are bạn drunk already?" Thirteen asked with a smirk.
"I just needed your attention. To make a toast."
"We haven't even gotten our drinks yet." Wilson said.
"Well, they have. They got the good bartender."
The bartender returned with their drinks. He rested them on a set of thin, worn out coasters that read 'Sherries'. Wilson took his and so did House. His toast, incorporated the engravings on Cuddy's tombstone.
"I'd like to make a toast--to Cuddy. The, Exceptional boss who made everything right; The Dedicated mother who did every damn thing she could for that--our kid; And the relentless angel, who tried saving all our asses when we needed saving, if we needed saving and even if we didn't need saving." They all gave sincere smiles, and raised their glasses high.
"To Cuddy," House proclaimed. The rest of them replied like an echo before they all gulped their liquor.
"To Cuddy." The team then went back to talking, and Wilson faced House again.
"Come back to the booth. Come on. We're supposed to be taking your mind off a few things."
"You figure, bạn buy me a few drinks, get me massively drunk, and I'll--forget. About all of this."
"No. I intend to get bạn massively drunk so bạn can relax. Everyone wants bạn to. We all want bạn over there."
"Give me a few minutes. Do a few shots, and I'll be over." Wilson then patted him on the back and walked off to the booth with the rest of the team as they reminisced on some memories. Wilson couldn't help to keep looking back at House as they did so. And that's when the worst became worse. Stacy walked in. She looked at them and then at House. She just stood there, waiting for him to turn around.
"House!" Wilson had called out. He turned to look at Wilson, but saw her first instead. Then looked away. She walked over, but hesitated to sit down.
"Can I sit?" he didn't respond.
"House."
"Sit. I don't care. No matter what I'd say you'd sit anyway."
"Why are bạn so angry with me? I've been here for two days, and spoke to bạn once. Where in that lapse in time did I commit error, hoặc wrong towards you? Please, enlighten me."
"Your motives for talking to me--are faulty."
"How."
"You don't care. Yeah, bạn came for Cuddy, but bạn didn't come for me."
"I came for both of you."
"Right. bạn came back for the guy who shoved away your relationship with him."
"I came back, for the guy who I know gets hurt a lot."
"I don't recall saying I needed help picking up the damn pieces." he took a gulp of his scotch. The team had stopped talking and listened in. Which was fairly easy, seeing as it was only four, and the bar was close to empty.
"Can bạn stop jumping down my throat for one second? I did not come here to flaunt Mark in your face--"
"It's good to see his walking bởi the way."
"I did not come here to make bạn miserable--"
"Too late."
"And I did not come here, just to pay my respects and condolences to Cuddy and her family. I came here, to comfort you."
"I don't need comforting."
"Then why did bạn invite me."
"I told you, for Cuddy's sake--"
"Oh bull. tiếp theo excuse."
"I know bạn were close to her. bạn would've been pissed if bạn found out she died and I didn't invite you. She would've been pissed if she knew I didn't invite you." The bartender appeared and looked at Stacy, waiting for her to order her drink.
"She'll have a martini, dry." he đã đưa ý kiến quickly. The man gave a nod, and went to go prepare it.
"I'm perfectly capable of ordering for myself."
"Of course bạn can."
"God, you're being such an ass."
"I think it might have to do with the fact of what happened today, but I don't know. Guys, what do bạn think?" he asked with cold sarcasm. Cameron was about to say something, but then Wilson nodded his head. House continued ranting.
"Just because I apologized to you, doesn't mean I want to talk to you. Yeah, bạn didn't mean to, but bạn shoved him in my face. He's walking, he's talking, he's such a big boy now. I'm ecstatic for bạn both."
"That didn't just happen--"
"Of course not. Which is partly the reason why I'm jumping down your throat. If bạn knew any better, bạn would've kept him at trang chủ and attended both the viewing and the service, alone."
"I attended the service alone. bạn saw me--"
"Knowing you, bạn warned him after the viewing. bạn told him not to come to the service, so he waited out in the car." Wilson finally decided to break this fight, before things could get out of hand. So he slid out of the booth and got between them, literally.
"House--stop. Stacy, I'll talk to bạn later. But, get out. Just get out Stacy." House was surprised how hard Wilson was protecting him. He didn't think he was that fragile at the moment--or was he?
"House? We're not finished here."
"Oh, I believe that." She walked out furious, before her dry rượu martini, martini arrived. Wilson chugged it down instead, before giving the lecture.
"What the hell's the matter with you? She's trying to help bạn and bạn don't push, bạn throw her aside?"
"I don't want to get myself involved with that. If I talk to her in my current state--there's a good chance you'll be picking up thêm pieces." Wilson sighed, and put his hands on his waist, just staring at House. House looked the other way, gulped down the rest of his scotch, and abruptly set it down on the useless coaster. He then got up, and walked out.
---
An giờ later
He slouched a little in his chair, and shoved his finger on the radio dashboard, turning on the music. To no surprise, it was set on a bluesy station--the station he had put it on the last time he was in Wilson's car, months earlier.
"You never listen to the radio do you?"
"I do."
"How come bạn haven't changed the station in, what five, six months?"
"I like this station. What's wrong with that?" Wilson gave occasional glances at him as tried keeping focus on the road.
"You don't like this music. I do."
"I listen to blues."
"Name a guy."
"Just because bạn like blues, doesn't mean I don't."
"Yes. That is true. But you are easily annoyed with blues music, and most people, who like a genre of music, most of the time don't get sick of it."
"What are bạn trying to get out of this? I don't understand what this conversation is--meant for. You're arguing whether hoặc not I like blues music." House looked away.
"I'm just saying that--" House broke off.
"Why would he even bother to argue with bạn in the first place?"
"Can bạn let me finish?" he asked, facing him again.
"I--never interrupted." Wilson replied awkwardly.
"He would usually cast aside your remarks and comments--why is he choosing to argue about..This? And why now?" House looked around. This was definitely not Wilson's voice. Sure his handwriting was feminine, and he sometimes spoke in a feminine way, but not like this. Not like this.
"What? Why do bạn keep looking around, what's wrong?" Wilson sounded worried. But, casually.
"Nothing." He replied blankly.
"Oh. Don't pretend that I'm not here House. I know that bạn can hear me. But as I was saying, don't bạn see? He's trying to distract bạn about Cuddy. He's worried about you. He's scared."
House shut his eyes, clenched his teeth, and dared to turn around one thêm time--he had an excuse to pass over Wilson, but he was afraid of what he would find.
"Aren't bạn glad to see me?" Amber asked him curiously.
House couldn't keep his eye off of her. He had the tendency to keep looking back at her, hoặc taking a fast glance in the rear view mirror. He knew she was fine--but he couldn't help it.
Neither House, nor Wilson had đã đưa ý kiến a word since their departure from Mason's, and nor did they attempt to. This awkward silence was not much of an awkward silence as it had appeared to be. But soon enough, Wilson had to do something--it's never House.
"Will bạn stop turning around? She's fine."
"I know."
"Then, what's up with your insane obsession to keep your eye on her like a hawk?"
"I'm not the one driving."
"Hence--?"
"I never had to watch her when I drove. I'm not driving--but I feel the need to watch her."
"House, bạn need to relax. This has been, an insane week. It's half past three. Everyone's going for a drink at Sherries. We're going."
"Fine, fine, fine. Just do whatever. I'm tired of hearing bạn nag right now."
"Come on, were here."
Wilson had pulled into the parking lot of Sherries, and parked conveniently tiếp theo to Chase and Cameron. Once he turned off the engine, they both got out, anh House unlocked Rachel's car ghế, chỗ ngồi from the back and carried her inside. They took a booth in the very back, but after House had set down Rachel, he walked straight for the bar.
"I thought we were--" Cameron started to say.
"I'll get him back over here," Wilson replied, taking off his jacket. He then walked over bởi House as he ordered his scotch on the rocks.
"And you?" the bartender asked Wilson.
"Whiskey. Neat." he replied. He then turned to House, who had just taken out two tablets of vicodin. He twirled them around on the counter, entertaining himself.
"Vicodin? You've been clean for--"
"Couple months. I know. Not long enough for bạn to praise me though. Care to tham gia me in a toast?" he asked Wilson. Then he turned around and looked at the team.
"HEY! My bitches! Time to make a toast!" he yelled out.
"House, are bạn drunk already?" Thirteen asked with a smirk.
"I just needed your attention. To make a toast."
"We haven't even gotten our drinks yet." Wilson said.
"Well, they have. They got the good bartender."
The bartender returned with their drinks. He rested them on a set of thin, worn out coasters that read 'Sherries'. Wilson took his and so did House. His toast, incorporated the engravings on Cuddy's tombstone.
"I'd like to make a toast--to Cuddy. The, Exceptional boss who made everything right; The Dedicated mother who did every damn thing she could for that--our kid; And the relentless angel, who tried saving all our asses when we needed saving, if we needed saving and even if we didn't need saving." They all gave sincere smiles, and raised their glasses high.
"To Cuddy," House proclaimed. The rest of them replied like an echo before they all gulped their liquor.
"To Cuddy." The team then went back to talking, and Wilson faced House again.
"Come back to the booth. Come on. We're supposed to be taking your mind off a few things."
"You figure, bạn buy me a few drinks, get me massively drunk, and I'll--forget. About all of this."
"No. I intend to get bạn massively drunk so bạn can relax. Everyone wants bạn to. We all want bạn over there."
"Give me a few minutes. Do a few shots, and I'll be over." Wilson then patted him on the back and walked off to the booth with the rest of the team as they reminisced on some memories. Wilson couldn't help to keep looking back at House as they did so. And that's when the worst became worse. Stacy walked in. She looked at them and then at House. She just stood there, waiting for him to turn around.
"House!" Wilson had called out. He turned to look at Wilson, but saw her first instead. Then looked away. She walked over, but hesitated to sit down.
"Can I sit?" he didn't respond.
"House."
"Sit. I don't care. No matter what I'd say you'd sit anyway."
"Why are bạn so angry with me? I've been here for two days, and spoke to bạn once. Where in that lapse in time did I commit error, hoặc wrong towards you? Please, enlighten me."
"Your motives for talking to me--are faulty."
"How."
"You don't care. Yeah, bạn came for Cuddy, but bạn didn't come for me."
"I came for both of you."
"Right. bạn came back for the guy who shoved away your relationship with him."
"I came back, for the guy who I know gets hurt a lot."
"I don't recall saying I needed help picking up the damn pieces." he took a gulp of his scotch. The team had stopped talking and listened in. Which was fairly easy, seeing as it was only four, and the bar was close to empty.
"Can bạn stop jumping down my throat for one second? I did not come here to flaunt Mark in your face--"
"It's good to see his walking bởi the way."
"I did not come here to make bạn miserable--"
"Too late."
"And I did not come here, just to pay my respects and condolences to Cuddy and her family. I came here, to comfort you."
"I don't need comforting."
"Then why did bạn invite me."
"I told you, for Cuddy's sake--"
"Oh bull. tiếp theo excuse."
"I know bạn were close to her. bạn would've been pissed if bạn found out she died and I didn't invite you. She would've been pissed if she knew I didn't invite you." The bartender appeared and looked at Stacy, waiting for her to order her drink.
"She'll have a martini, dry." he đã đưa ý kiến quickly. The man gave a nod, and went to go prepare it.
"I'm perfectly capable of ordering for myself."
"Of course bạn can."
"God, you're being such an ass."
"I think it might have to do with the fact of what happened today, but I don't know. Guys, what do bạn think?" he asked with cold sarcasm. Cameron was about to say something, but then Wilson nodded his head. House continued ranting.
"Just because I apologized to you, doesn't mean I want to talk to you. Yeah, bạn didn't mean to, but bạn shoved him in my face. He's walking, he's talking, he's such a big boy now. I'm ecstatic for bạn both."
"That didn't just happen--"
"Of course not. Which is partly the reason why I'm jumping down your throat. If bạn knew any better, bạn would've kept him at trang chủ and attended both the viewing and the service, alone."
"I attended the service alone. bạn saw me--"
"Knowing you, bạn warned him after the viewing. bạn told him not to come to the service, so he waited out in the car." Wilson finally decided to break this fight, before things could get out of hand. So he slid out of the booth and got between them, literally.
"House--stop. Stacy, I'll talk to bạn later. But, get out. Just get out Stacy." House was surprised how hard Wilson was protecting him. He didn't think he was that fragile at the moment--or was he?
"House? We're not finished here."
"Oh, I believe that." She walked out furious, before her dry rượu martini, martini arrived. Wilson chugged it down instead, before giving the lecture.
"What the hell's the matter with you? She's trying to help bạn and bạn don't push, bạn throw her aside?"
"I don't want to get myself involved with that. If I talk to her in my current state--there's a good chance you'll be picking up thêm pieces." Wilson sighed, and put his hands on his waist, just staring at House. House looked the other way, gulped down the rest of his scotch, and abruptly set it down on the useless coaster. He then got up, and walked out.
---
An giờ later
He slouched a little in his chair, and shoved his finger on the radio dashboard, turning on the music. To no surprise, it was set on a bluesy station--the station he had put it on the last time he was in Wilson's car, months earlier.
"You never listen to the radio do you?"
"I do."
"How come bạn haven't changed the station in, what five, six months?"
"I like this station. What's wrong with that?" Wilson gave occasional glances at him as tried keeping focus on the road.
"You don't like this music. I do."
"I listen to blues."
"Name a guy."
"Just because bạn like blues, doesn't mean I don't."
"Yes. That is true. But you are easily annoyed with blues music, and most people, who like a genre of music, most of the time don't get sick of it."
"What are bạn trying to get out of this? I don't understand what this conversation is--meant for. You're arguing whether hoặc not I like blues music." House looked away.
"I'm just saying that--" House broke off.
"Why would he even bother to argue with bạn in the first place?"
"Can bạn let me finish?" he asked, facing him again.
"I--never interrupted." Wilson replied awkwardly.
"He would usually cast aside your remarks and comments--why is he choosing to argue about..This? And why now?" House looked around. This was definitely not Wilson's voice. Sure his handwriting was feminine, and he sometimes spoke in a feminine way, but not like this. Not like this.
"What? Why do bạn keep looking around, what's wrong?" Wilson sounded worried. But, casually.
"Nothing." He replied blankly.
"Oh. Don't pretend that I'm not here House. I know that bạn can hear me. But as I was saying, don't bạn see? He's trying to distract bạn about Cuddy. He's worried about you. He's scared."
House shut his eyes, clenched his teeth, and dared to turn around one thêm time--he had an excuse to pass over Wilson, but he was afraid of what he would find.
"Aren't bạn glad to see me?" Amber asked him curiously.