It was finally Sunday.
House was hopping on one foot around his room, cautious of his injuries as he zipped up his pants. As he hopped back towards his bed, he reached for his undershirt folded on the bed. All along his torso, bruises and scars remained. Half of the torso was covered in bandages for his ribs and along the side of his head, stitches traveled across.
After slipping on his undershirt, he had thrown on his blue button down, keeping it open. Suddenly, Cameron walked in and brought his luggage along with his leather áo khoác and cane.
"You'll be needing these." she đã đưa ý kiến as she sat them on the bed.
"Who got my clothes?"
"Wilson. bạn need a few thêm over there at Mayfield."
"Right."
"You gonna button that?" she asked with a laugh.
"What do bạn want?"
"What?"
"Give your little spiel, so I can finish packing." he đã đưa ý kiến mockingly.
"Talk to her. Please?"
"I'm leaving, I got no time for chit chat with mommy."
"She needs to talk to you. She wants to."
"I got no time for that," he đã đưa ý kiến picking up his stuff and walking out. Cameron trailed close behind him in her màu hồng, hồng scrubs.
"Don't talk to me."
"Then talk to her."
"Can't, bein' discharged."
"Ten minutes--"
"Almost in the elevator--"
"Five minutes--"
"Practically in the elevator--" he stepped into the elevator and faced Cameron and smiled, but she stopped dead at the doors. They were slowly closing. She looked down with her hands on her hips slightly yelling,
"She's in tình yêu with you!"
As the doors nearly closed, his cane stuck between them and they reopened. He just looked at her with his head slightly tilted down. He held the door open and spoke quietly.
"What'd she say to you."
"Well--she didn't need to say anything." he looked up, and urged her in for her to make the first play.
"Its' been two months. Talk to her."
"Can't."
"You would trade talking to Cuddy, for going back to Mayfield? In what reality would that ever be true?"
"Just can't."
"Just give her a couple hours, she wants--needs to talk to you. And I'm sure bạn need to too."
"You think you're always sure about everything. You're wrong a lot. But not enough to hủy bỏ out your rights." Cameron smiled proudly at his compliment and he just rolled his eyes at her as they made to ground floor. They walked out into the lobby and stopped in front of the clinic. Watching them from the balcony above, Cuddy and Wilson conversed about House's part. They leaned on the edge, arms hanging over. Team House was up to bat.
"He's Mất tích his appetite, over there." he spoke quietly.
"I can see it on him." she spoke the same.
"He's--different."
"A tháng in an asylum will do that to you."
"Not like that. And not, because of that." he glanced at her and looked back at House who was entering the clinic. Cameron had departed back for the ER.
"You--care about him right?"
"This better not be a trick question." she asked curiously.
"You care enough, right?"
"I guess. I mean, yes. Yes." she admitted awkwardly.
"Do bạn think, he feels the same?"
"A caring House, yes there is such a thing. Frequent no, existent yes."
"Not a caring that you've actually seen in him." she glanced at him, and scoffed, realizing what this was about.
"Respect, Wilson."
"You really think it's just, that simple?" she didn't respond. She just stared at him and waited for him to elaborate and continue.
"He was hallucinating..."
"Thought we clarified that bởi sending him to Mayfield? Otherwise we did the wrong thing."
"He hallucinated--detoxing off vicodin, and you." his voice had faded as the sentence flooded out of his mouth. She stood awkwardly before him waiting for him to give some kind of explanation.
"I don't--I don't. What?"
"You."
"Yeah, I got that."
"Talk to him. He's looking for you." they both looked down and House was looking up at them with his signature glare. Her face slightly dropped as she walked towards the stairs. She walked up to him in the middle of the lobby. Inches away he bowed his head and looked at her. She raised hers and did the same.
"You're still here.." she sated quietly.
"So are you." they just stood before each other in the middle of the lobby, and people began to stare. So, she urged him back into the clinic and into her office. He picked up his belongings he had set on the floor of the lobby, and followed her into her office. He took a ghế, chỗ ngồi on her đi văng along with his things and she just had her back turned from him as she walked towards his desk.
"Its good--you're well enough now." she struggled to say.
"Enough to leave right?" he asked.
"We want bạn here."
"You don't."
"You really think I would want bạn over there rather than here?"
"Right." he uttered skeptically. she turned around slowly and looked right at him. He looked down and began to talk again.
"If we both are gonna say something, I think it's only fair if bạn go first."
"You've gotten way too skinny, House." she stated changing the subject.
"Fine." he picked up his stuff, got up from the đi văng and walked out. Cuddy reluctantly followed as they made their way out into the parking lot. The breeze swept through as they walked out of the front doors. She called out to him, and he stopped abruptly only feet away from her. The wind picked up and lifted the ends of his sky blue shirt. Turning around slowly, he looked at her. The sun beamed on him. He just watched her and she let out a sigh.
"I know." she admitted aloud. He just looked around as she went on.
"Talk to me." he stood in a silence before her. Except for his eyes. His icy iris' could be seen between his squinting eye lids, protected from the blinding sun. Cuddy reluctantly continued, realizing she would uphold this dreadful conversation.
"What did bạn hallucinate? Why me? What about me? House..." she began to walk toward him. Unsure of what exactly she was doing. Inches from him once again, she spoke in whispers. He looked away from her, afraid. Afraid to meet her eyes.
"I need some answers." she paused. Waiting for him to say, something. She continued.
"Please don't leave me blind." she was sincerely pleading to him. Something she had never done before. Eyes still averted, he spoke gently and softly.
"If it was important," he started. He took the risk. Looked down at her before continuing.
"I would tell you." her mouth dangled, struggling to say something. As painful as it was with his eyes locked on hers, he had to walk away. He bowed his head and she stood stationary as he approached Wilson and his car. They were waiting to depart back to Mayfield. Wilson popped open the door and he threw his stuff in the back. Slamming it shut, he walked over to the passenger ghế, chỗ ngồi and carefully got in. As they pulled out from the parking lot, they watched a petrified Cuddy standing in the sun. bạn couldn't tell if she was crying, hoặc if her face had remained the same as how he had left it, but we knew the misery that was there. In the car, they sat in a short silence as they blinding sun continued to descend, lighting their way back to Mayfield. Eventually, Wilson decided to break it.
"You'll regret not telling her."
"I know."
"What are bạn afraid of? What she might do? Say?"
"I'm afraid to admit the truth. Relaying her those hallucinations relinquish that truth."
"This is important. And bạn should tell her."
"I know. It's important. For both of us. But, I am not going to put her through something like that. Deciding what she should do about it, should I tell her."
"Like I told bạn before, it's important that she knows. If she knew the truth--you have no idea what her reaction could be."
"I know. Since I don't I'm not taking that risk."
"What is it with bạn and all these precautions. This isn't like you. bởi now bạn would've told her, she would've been all over you. bạn keep pushing her away."
"Love, can do those kind of things to you." Wilson slowly turned his head towards House who was looking straight into the sunset. Wilson alternated looking at the road and him before speaking again.
"You're actually admitting it?" Wilson asked in a shocked and curious voice.
"I admitted it a long time ago. I believed farther back. I'm just starting to see it."
"You've only been in tình yêu once. bạn sure this is the same?"
"I'm not sure. I know it is. Why would I voluntarily dream about nothing but her while in a coma? Why would I dream that I wanted to marry her, if I wasn't in tình yêu with her?"
"You--what?"
"It's not just the hallucinations telling me what's what now. Just--everything."
"Okay, slow down."
"Everything from my dream told me something. Everything that occurred--it was either a fear, a dream, hoặc part of reality. But--" as he spoke his voice had slowed down..
"What? What's wrong."
"I wanted to be with her. The drug trials was reality. The accident was part of reality. The adoption was--want? Stacy was--a fear. What happened to her was a want. My mom, a reality. Cutting--a fear. Something I would have to resort to? Suicide--fear. Another thing I would resort to. Her death. Why should it be a fear? It's not a want. It can't be. It can't be a fear either--a reality?"
"What the hell are bạn talking about House?"
"She's--going to die."
"Who's she?"
"Cuddy."
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House was hopping on one foot around his room, cautious of his injuries as he zipped up his pants. As he hopped back towards his bed, he reached for his undershirt folded on the bed. All along his torso, bruises and scars remained. Half of the torso was covered in bandages for his ribs and along the side of his head, stitches traveled across.
After slipping on his undershirt, he had thrown on his blue button down, keeping it open. Suddenly, Cameron walked in and brought his luggage along with his leather áo khoác and cane.
"You'll be needing these." she đã đưa ý kiến as she sat them on the bed.
"Who got my clothes?"
"Wilson. bạn need a few thêm over there at Mayfield."
"Right."
"You gonna button that?" she asked with a laugh.
"What do bạn want?"
"What?"
"Give your little spiel, so I can finish packing." he đã đưa ý kiến mockingly.
"Talk to her. Please?"
"I'm leaving, I got no time for chit chat with mommy."
"She needs to talk to you. She wants to."
"I got no time for that," he đã đưa ý kiến picking up his stuff and walking out. Cameron trailed close behind him in her màu hồng, hồng scrubs.
"Don't talk to me."
"Then talk to her."
"Can't, bein' discharged."
"Ten minutes--"
"Almost in the elevator--"
"Five minutes--"
"Practically in the elevator--" he stepped into the elevator and faced Cameron and smiled, but she stopped dead at the doors. They were slowly closing. She looked down with her hands on her hips slightly yelling,
"She's in tình yêu with you!"
As the doors nearly closed, his cane stuck between them and they reopened. He just looked at her with his head slightly tilted down. He held the door open and spoke quietly.
"What'd she say to you."
"Well--she didn't need to say anything." he looked up, and urged her in for her to make the first play.
"Its' been two months. Talk to her."
"Can't."
"You would trade talking to Cuddy, for going back to Mayfield? In what reality would that ever be true?"
"Just can't."
"Just give her a couple hours, she wants--needs to talk to you. And I'm sure bạn need to too."
"You think you're always sure about everything. You're wrong a lot. But not enough to hủy bỏ out your rights." Cameron smiled proudly at his compliment and he just rolled his eyes at her as they made to ground floor. They walked out into the lobby and stopped in front of the clinic. Watching them from the balcony above, Cuddy and Wilson conversed about House's part. They leaned on the edge, arms hanging over. Team House was up to bat.
"He's Mất tích his appetite, over there." he spoke quietly.
"I can see it on him." she spoke the same.
"He's--different."
"A tháng in an asylum will do that to you."
"Not like that. And not, because of that." he glanced at her and looked back at House who was entering the clinic. Cameron had departed back for the ER.
"You--care about him right?"
"This better not be a trick question." she asked curiously.
"You care enough, right?"
"I guess. I mean, yes. Yes." she admitted awkwardly.
"Do bạn think, he feels the same?"
"A caring House, yes there is such a thing. Frequent no, existent yes."
"Not a caring that you've actually seen in him." she glanced at him, and scoffed, realizing what this was about.
"Respect, Wilson."
"You really think it's just, that simple?" she didn't respond. She just stared at him and waited for him to elaborate and continue.
"He was hallucinating..."
"Thought we clarified that bởi sending him to Mayfield? Otherwise we did the wrong thing."
"He hallucinated--detoxing off vicodin, and you." his voice had faded as the sentence flooded out of his mouth. She stood awkwardly before him waiting for him to give some kind of explanation.
"I don't--I don't. What?"
"You."
"Yeah, I got that."
"Talk to him. He's looking for you." they both looked down and House was looking up at them with his signature glare. Her face slightly dropped as she walked towards the stairs. She walked up to him in the middle of the lobby. Inches away he bowed his head and looked at her. She raised hers and did the same.
"You're still here.." she sated quietly.
"So are you." they just stood before each other in the middle of the lobby, and people began to stare. So, she urged him back into the clinic and into her office. He picked up his belongings he had set on the floor of the lobby, and followed her into her office. He took a ghế, chỗ ngồi on her đi văng along with his things and she just had her back turned from him as she walked towards his desk.
"Its good--you're well enough now." she struggled to say.
"Enough to leave right?" he asked.
"We want bạn here."
"You don't."
"You really think I would want bạn over there rather than here?"
"Right." he uttered skeptically. she turned around slowly and looked right at him. He looked down and began to talk again.
"If we both are gonna say something, I think it's only fair if bạn go first."
"You've gotten way too skinny, House." she stated changing the subject.
"Fine." he picked up his stuff, got up from the đi văng and walked out. Cuddy reluctantly followed as they made their way out into the parking lot. The breeze swept through as they walked out of the front doors. She called out to him, and he stopped abruptly only feet away from her. The wind picked up and lifted the ends of his sky blue shirt. Turning around slowly, he looked at her. The sun beamed on him. He just watched her and she let out a sigh.
"I know." she admitted aloud. He just looked around as she went on.
"Talk to me." he stood in a silence before her. Except for his eyes. His icy iris' could be seen between his squinting eye lids, protected from the blinding sun. Cuddy reluctantly continued, realizing she would uphold this dreadful conversation.
"What did bạn hallucinate? Why me? What about me? House..." she began to walk toward him. Unsure of what exactly she was doing. Inches from him once again, she spoke in whispers. He looked away from her, afraid. Afraid to meet her eyes.
"I need some answers." she paused. Waiting for him to say, something. She continued.
"Please don't leave me blind." she was sincerely pleading to him. Something she had never done before. Eyes still averted, he spoke gently and softly.
"If it was important," he started. He took the risk. Looked down at her before continuing.
"I would tell you." her mouth dangled, struggling to say something. As painful as it was with his eyes locked on hers, he had to walk away. He bowed his head and she stood stationary as he approached Wilson and his car. They were waiting to depart back to Mayfield. Wilson popped open the door and he threw his stuff in the back. Slamming it shut, he walked over to the passenger ghế, chỗ ngồi and carefully got in. As they pulled out from the parking lot, they watched a petrified Cuddy standing in the sun. bạn couldn't tell if she was crying, hoặc if her face had remained the same as how he had left it, but we knew the misery that was there. In the car, they sat in a short silence as they blinding sun continued to descend, lighting their way back to Mayfield. Eventually, Wilson decided to break it.
"You'll regret not telling her."
"I know."
"What are bạn afraid of? What she might do? Say?"
"I'm afraid to admit the truth. Relaying her those hallucinations relinquish that truth."
"This is important. And bạn should tell her."
"I know. It's important. For both of us. But, I am not going to put her through something like that. Deciding what she should do about it, should I tell her."
"Like I told bạn before, it's important that she knows. If she knew the truth--you have no idea what her reaction could be."
"I know. Since I don't I'm not taking that risk."
"What is it with bạn and all these precautions. This isn't like you. bởi now bạn would've told her, she would've been all over you. bạn keep pushing her away."
"Love, can do those kind of things to you." Wilson slowly turned his head towards House who was looking straight into the sunset. Wilson alternated looking at the road and him before speaking again.
"You're actually admitting it?" Wilson asked in a shocked and curious voice.
"I admitted it a long time ago. I believed farther back. I'm just starting to see it."
"You've only been in tình yêu once. bạn sure this is the same?"
"I'm not sure. I know it is. Why would I voluntarily dream about nothing but her while in a coma? Why would I dream that I wanted to marry her, if I wasn't in tình yêu with her?"
"You--what?"
"It's not just the hallucinations telling me what's what now. Just--everything."
"Okay, slow down."
"Everything from my dream told me something. Everything that occurred--it was either a fear, a dream, hoặc part of reality. But--" as he spoke his voice had slowed down..
"What? What's wrong."
"I wanted to be with her. The drug trials was reality. The accident was part of reality. The adoption was--want? Stacy was--a fear. What happened to her was a want. My mom, a reality. Cutting--a fear. Something I would have to resort to? Suicide--fear. Another thing I would resort to. Her death. Why should it be a fear? It's not a want. It can't be. It can't be a fear either--a reality?"
"What the hell are bạn talking about House?"
"She's--going to die."
"Who's she?"
"Cuddy."
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