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assbutt-writes · 3 months

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All I Want

Pairing - Gregory House/James Wilson

Word Count - 3,241

Fic below break

It had been eleven years. Eleven years had passed since House had bailed him out of jail, and James Wilson was completely screwed. To be honest, he probably should’ve known that when his heart felt like it stopped when the person who confronted House on the street called them closet cases, should’ve know it when felt sick to his stomach with what he had thought was worry when Stacy came back, should’ve know it when he nearly screamed with frustration when he heard that House and Stacy had kissed. Now that he did know it, though, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

He’d never been good at this sort of thing, having to act casual around someone who held your entire heart in the palm of their hand without knowing. He knew that, even in the one-in-a-million chance that House did like him back, there was no telling what Cuddy would do, and he didn’t know if he would be willing to take that risk, at least not for House. Getting himself fired was one thing, but getting House fired? Wilson didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if that happened. But he did know one thing. He was not going to let Stacy fuck House up again. So, here he was, walking toward her office, seething as he burst through the door.

“What the hell did you do? Were you really just that cold and lonely?” he said, and Stacy sighed.

“Of course he told you, he’s an 8-year-old boy,” she said flippantly, and fuck. Didn’t she know how much her leaving had screwed up House? He was already so fucking vulnerable, and to have her leave… God, he was scared to find out how much that would break him.

“Hey, you’re the one who kissed him!” he said forcefully, and Stacy looked up at him, searching his face.

“Why are you so worked up about this?” she said, a confused look on her face. He knew that he couldn’t tell her the real reason, so he quickly thought of anything to say.

“Because you’re married,” he said.

“Not to you,” she said dismissively, “This is none of your business.”

“The last time you left, I was the one left picking up the pieces! I saw firsthand how much that shit affected him, and I won’t- I can’t let that happen to him again,” Wilson said, frustration starting to build. He managed to hold himself back from shouting the words at her, but only barely.

“Oh, right, he cried himself to sleep every night. That so sounds like him,” Stacy said, voice dripping with sarcasm, and, God, he wanted to scream.

“He’s been pining for 5 years!” Wilson said, voice cracking as frustration started to turn into white-hot anger and he had to force his voice to remain steady.

“You’re being dramatic,” she said, and he could’ve sworn he heard a faint laugh in her voice.

“No, actually, I’m underplaying. This is me being restrained,” he said, trying to keep the boiling anger below the surface. Something seemed to click for Stacy, and she sat back with a look of realization.

“It was just one kiss,” she said, obviously trying to make her voice reassuring, but, God, that only made it worse.

“Are you being intentionally thick? This wasn’t just some one-night stand. You can’t just toy with him,” Wilson said, his anger turning more and more intense and all-consuming by the second.

“I’m not. If anything, he’s probably toying with me,” she said, voice softer and more sad than anything. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh,” Wilson said, his anger too thick for him to process her words. Once he realized what she said, though, he felt like he had just been punched in the gut, and his thoughts started running as fast as the horses at those races House always went to. “Oh.”

He shakily stood up and moved to the door, feeling like there were cotton balls in his brain and a haze over the entire world, everything feeling like he was watching it happen rather than actually doing it. He heard Stacy call his name, and he felt himself turn back around to face her.

“I’m sorry,” Stacy said, and for a second, Wilson froze. She couldn’t know, could she? “I never meant to hurt him. I guess I just thought that him seeing me would make things worse, so I just…”

“It’s okay,” Wilson said, feeling like his entire world was crashing down around him. He shakily left the room, feeling himself go to his office and lock the door, a million thoughts and emotions all swirling around in his head.

This was it. House and Stacy would get back together, and either things would work out and he would be forced to watch the man he loved be with someone else, or they wouldn’t, and he would have to watch as the hurt of it broke House into a million pieces, Wilson forced to watch without being able to do anything to help. He laid his head down on the desk, and started to cry.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been there when he heard the door to his balcony open. He looked up, trying to blink the tears from his eyes as he focused on the blurry figure of House, standing in the doorway, his face colored with a mixture of confusion and concern. The expression was gone as soon as it appeared, though, replaced with a carefully blank expression.

“Let me guess, you’ve just now realized that you’re hopelessly in love with me and are crying in your locked room like a 14-year-old girl?” House said sarcastically, and, God, that stung. He knew that it was just House being House and trying to lighten his mood with a joke, but the fact that he was right felt like a punch to the gut.

He forced out a watery laugh, though, playing it off as if it was just another joke. “Yeah, you wish.”

An expression of wry self-loathing crossed over House’s face, the smirk melting into a more self-deprecating one, but when Wilson moved to speak up, the expression was gone again, replaced with that damn smug smirk.

“Then why are you crying in your office with the door locked like a 14-year-old girl?” House asked, ever the prying bastard.

“Look, House, I’m fine. Why did you come here in the first place? It must’ve been important if you decided to break in through the balcony,” Wilson said, trying to change the subject.

“In my defense, I knocked at least 5 times before I decided to use the balcony,” House said indignantly. Wilson rolled his eyes, and he sighed. “Cameron, Chase, and Foreman are going to go out to dinner and they invited me, but I really, really don’t want to have to go alone. Wanna come?”

Wilson let out a little laugh at that as he nodded his head.

“Yeah, sure. What time?” Wilson said, and House sighed in relief.

“They were saying 5, and I think they were going to go to Olive Garden” House said, and Wilson smiled.

“I’ll be there,” Wilson said, feeling a soft smile appear on his face.

**********************************

By the time 5:00 came, Wilson had managed to pull himself together so he didn’t look like a complete wreck. His eyes were still red from all the crying and his head still felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, but he didn’t feel like he would burst into tears when he saw House, so at least there was that. He heard a knock on his door, and he stood up shakily, running a hand through his hair as he walked to the door. The person knocked again, and Wilson let out a little laugh.

“One second, House,” he said, a little smile crossing his face.

“Not House,” he heard the person say, and he could feel the smile disappear as his blood ran cold when he recognized that voice. “It’s Stacy. Look, Wilson, could you please open this door? I need to talk to you.”

Heart pounding a mile a minute, Wilson opened the door, thoughts racing almost as fast as they were when he left her office. Why was she here? She couldn’t know, right? “Stacy? What’s wrong?”

She looked at him with a weak smile on her face, her eyes obviously red from crying. “I just want to let you know that I just put in my letter of resignation, so you won’t have to worry about me hurting Greg.”

“What? Hold on, back up a bit. You’re quitting?” Wilson said, confusion replacing the fear he had been feeling.

“Yeah. I don’t think that what I’m doing here is helping. I wanted Greg to hear about it from you, though. I think that if anyone here would know how to make it not hurt for him, it would be you,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “I can tell you both really care for each other.”

“So I was right. You were just toying with him. Stacy, we both know how much you leaving hurt him last time. You can’t honestly expect me to be okay with you doing it all over again,” he said, the same white-hot anger from earlier coming back full-force.

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s going to be quite so bad this time. Just… Tell him that I’m sorry, and that it’s you. He’ll know what that means,” she said, and when he didn’t respond, she nodded half-heartedly and turned to leave. He stood in the doorway, his heart pounding and face flushed with anger as he watched Stacy walk away and House turn the corner, coming toward his office.

“Wilson! Wow, based on how red your face is, you’re either really pissed off, or you just had some of the best sex of your life. Personally, I’m hoping it’s the latter. I don’t really want to deal with a pissed-off Wilson right now. You get too cranky,” House joked, and Wilson let out a little laugh.

“You ready to go?” he said, and House nodded.

They started to walk down the hallway, the flush on Wilson’s face never fading, although he was pretty sure it wasn’t from anger anymore. Once they got to the parking lot, House started walking toward his motorcycle, and when Wilson started walking toward his car, House called him over.

“Get on,” House said simply, and Wilson shook his head. He didn’t think his heart could handle having to sit pressed up against House with his arms around the older man’s waist. “Oh, don’t be an idiot. This’ll be quicker.”

Wilson sighed and got on the motorcycle, hesitantly laying his arms around House’s waist. House let out a noise of annoyance and pulled Wilson’s arms tighter, which made the flush on Wilson’s cheeks get even darker. House started the motorcycle and drove off, and the entire time they were on the road, Wilson was hyper-aware of how close he was to House, how his chest was pressed up against House’s back, how his arms were hugged tight around the other man’s waist, how his hips were pressed up against-

Wilson mentally slapped himself. That train of thought was not helping, so he tried to think of anything but that, mind starting to wander over to what Stacy had said and how he was supposed to tell House. He eventually decided that he would pull House aside after dinner and gently tell him that Stacy was leaving, and then he would hope that Stacy was right and it wouldn’t mess him up as much as it did last time.

Once they got there and House parked the motorcycle, Wilson shakily got off of it, his face bright red. He took a second to catch his breath as House got his cane, and then the two of them walked inside, meeting up with Cameron, Foreman, and Chase.

The dinner passed by extremely quickly, Wilson not meeting House’s eyes for most of it. He had to excuse himself from the table to go to the restroom to try to get his breathing under control. The combination of the news he was carrying and his crush (God, that sounded so childish) on House made him feel like he was going to be sick. He looked in the mirror and saw that his face and the tips of his ears were still slightly flushed, and he splashed some water on his face to try and cool down. He was so focused on calming down that he didn’t hear House come up behind him, only realizing that the older man was behind him when he looked in the mirror again and saw him, which made him nearly jump out of his skin.

“Jesus, House!” Wilson said, trying to calm his racing heart.

“What’s going on? You’ve been in here for a while. Everyone else’s almost ready to go,” House said, a note of concern in his voice, and Wilson could feel his heart sink. It was almost time to tell him, and he was really dreading that.

“I’m just not feeling well. I’ll be fine,” Wilson said, knowing that he most definitely would not be fine after tonight. Neither of them would be.

“You sure, Wilson? You’re looking a little red-” House started, and Wilson could feel the moment when all of the emotions he had been holding in boiled over.

“I said I’m fine, House,” Wilson snapped, and he could see House shrink back slightly. Shit. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” House said, an almost gentle expression coloring his face. “Come on, let’s go.”

Wilson followed him out the door, heart pounding. He knew he needed to tell House about Stacy, so when they got out of the door, he pulled House to the side, the other man looking at him confusedly. House looked like he was going to make a joke, but when he saw the expression on Wilson’s face, he started to look nervous as well.

“Wilson? What’s going on?” House asked cautiously. The younger man took a deep breath, and started to tell House about Stacy.

“It’s Stacy. She said that she didn’t think what she was doing here was helping, so she’s resigning. She said that she’s sorry and to tell you that ‘it’s me’, and that you would know what that means. I tried to talk her out of leaving, I swear,” Wilson rambled, tripping over his words. House looked down at Wilson, an expression on his face that looked like a mixture of disbelief and awe, his mouth agape in shock.

“Wait, hold on, are you sure?” House asked. “Wilson, are you absolutely sure that’s what she said?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” Wilson said gravely.

“No, no, not the bit about her leaving,” House said dismissively, eyes raking over Wilson’s face as if he was searching for something. “The ‘it’s you’ bit.”

“Yeah,” Wilson said, utterly confused. A million expressions crossed House’s face before it settled on one of relief and- wait, was that happiness?

“Really?” House said, and Wilson was extremely confused now. Not that he wasn’t completely relieved that House was taking the news well, but why was House fixated on that one bit?

“House? What’s going on?” Wilson asked cautiously.

“Really, this whole time, and I never noticed it,” House asked, letting out a little laugh.

“House? Are you okay? You’re not having some kind of psychotic break, right?” Wilson asked.

“And that joke I made earlier, God, James, I’m such a dumbass,” House said, and Wilson started to freak out a little bit. House never used his first name, at least not like that, looking at him like he was the most precious thing he had ever had the chance to see.

“House, please, can you tell me what’s going on? What’s wrong?” Wilson asked, fear lacing his voice as he turned to call out to Chase, Forman, and Cameron, to get House help.

“You idiot. I like you too,” House said, almost breathlessly.

Wilson froze. House had to have been having a psychotic break. That was the only explanation. Stacy leaving had hurt him way worse than he thought it would, and now he was breaking into a million pieces, just like Wilson had thought he would.

“House?” Wilson said slowly. “What are you saying?”

“Wilson, I’m a dumbass, not an idiot. I know what I said, and I mean it,” House said, before realizing what he just said and letting out a small laugh. “Okay, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean. I like you, James Wilson. I have for quite a while.”

“You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. House-” Wilson started, voice cracking with emotion.

“Oh, come on, Wilson, I knew this was coming. After all, I was the one who left her, not the other way around. Her saying that it’s you, that’s her way of telling me that you like me back,” House said, cutting him off, and Wilson felt like his entire world was being turned upside down.

“Like you back?” he asked, voice small.

“Unless she was wrong, and I just screwed things up,” House said slowly, voice filled with dawning horror.

“No, no, wait, House, trust me, it’s not that. God, it’s definitely not that. It’s just that half an hour ago I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought that everything was going to change, and I was going to lose you. Now I’m finding out that, not only was I wrong, you actually like me back, and it’s not because of a psychotic break, and now I don’t know what to-” Wilson rambled.

“Kiss me,” House cut him off, and Wilson looked up at him, seeing House looking flushed and unsure of himself. “Please.”

So Wilson did, and it was everything he thought it would be and more. House’s hands shakily came up to hold his head and pull him closer, and if he didn’t feel the electricity at every point their bodies touched, he would be convinced that this wasn’t real. There was no possible way that the sarcastic, witty, amazing man that he had grown to love all these years actually liked him back and was actually kissing him back.

He heard footsteps approach, and he tried to ignore them, tried to just focus on what was probably the best moment of his life, but then the person behind House was clearing their throat, and he reluctantly pulled away, only to be greeted by the sight of a very upset-looking Chase and Foreman and a very happy-looking Cameron who seemed to be holding two-

“Oh, come on, guys, please tell me you weren’t making bets on this,” Wilson asked, a note of fond exasperation in his voice.

Cameron smiled. “Then I won’t tell you. Come on, guys, we’re needed back at the hospital.”

Wilson sighed, before reluctantly moving away from House and walking to the motorcycle. House stood there dazed before seemingly snapping back to reality and following Wilson. This time, when they got on the motorcycle, Wilson wrapped his arms around House on his own, a small smile crossing his face as he laid his head on House’s back and House started up the motorcycle and started to drive to the hospital.

#james wilson #wilson house md #greg house #house/wilson #hilson #house md #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic

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ratsalad · 2 years

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love reading your house md thoughts. is there anything about the show you would change if you could?

the first thought that came to me: i'd change things so that wilson and cuddy weren't constantly trying to change house or tell him what to do re: his addiction when he so clearly wasn't ready to change.

this was a big issue for me throughout the show, because while i understand their frustration as people who love him and who don't want to see him suffer, they failed to see that the constant lecturing pushed house deeper into denial - as it often does to addicts when they're in the precontemplative stage.

what he really needed instead was support (not to be confused with enabling), acceptance and understanding of his choices - real understanding; the awareness that he is where he is right now and they can't change him. this doesn't mean they shouldn't speak up when he makes bad choices. frankly, they were fantastic friends - the only problem was that they didn't realize people don't come out of denial unless they realize it themselves.

but i can also see why wilson (if not cuddy - and only because i don't have as good a read on her as wilson) couldn't be this person for house - wilson's a fixer. he has to feel needed, so he gives people solutions to their problems - even problems they're not willing to admit to having.

house eventually did get out of precontemplative and into contemplative at the end of season 5 when he realized things were too far gone and he needed help - and good for him - but notice how he had to come to that realization himself. it really, really cannot work any other way. i speak from first hand experience.

i'm not sure if i can think of any Big Plot Things to change - the show's writing is far from perfect, but overall i'm satisfied with where they decided to go mostly. there are some things i'd change:

i wish cuddy respected house's disability more in earlier seasons;

i wish he wasn't referred to as an addict in earlier seasons when he was really just a guy in so much pain he developed a dependence (you can see how he might get defensive - and unwilling to recognize later on that he does have an addiction - when people were calling him an addict before he was even an addict);

the majority of season 8 felt like the equivalent of naruto filler episodes

while i do think house never got over the events of the season 7 finale i wish we'd seen him struggling with them at least a little while he was in prison. and i wish we'd seen cuddy at least once in season 8. at his funeral perhaps. feels wrong that she wasn't there

huddy in general. i don't know WHAT i'd change - maybe i wouldn't have teased the ship from, oh i don't know, SEASON 1 - i just know that it could've gone better. i'd have still broke them up, absolutely; but the way it ended (and even began, to an extent) in the show left me dissatisfied

lbr house escaping to some other country after running his car into huddy’s house was sort of ridiculous

house in actual band t-shirts

i'm not a fan of the whole selecting-my-employees-with-a-game-show format of season 4

more house wearing cozy-looking hoodies

my god they really ran out of plots for each episode around seasons 5/6/7. the medical stuff really dipped, too - i rewatched a few episodes from season 1 and the medicine was SO solid, leagues above the later seasons, not to mention other medical dramas: the nun with the copper T, the schizophrenic mom who wasn't schizophrenic at all, those were some of my favorite episodes, and they managed to simultaneously weave in those themes of human nature that's REALLY what this show's trying to get at. towards 5/6/7 i felt like these aspects got really messy.

more house chilling at home

that's kind of all i can think of right now! thanks for sending this in, it was very fun to answer. it's also very kind of you to say that about my house posts, especially because they (especially towards the end of the show) were more cyclic ruminations stemming from Real Actual worry/anxiety for house and some level of projection than true analysis. but thanks nevertheless, it's always gratifying to know that people have been reading them!

#dootnoot #this was a very unexpected awesome ask to receive thank you!!!!!!#house md #houseposting #<- tag for all my house thoughts #vaaya moodu #ask #can you tell i just want house to feel content and have a good time.

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imheresohi · 2 years

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A fool like me

———————-

Pairing: house x reader (unrequited)

Warnings: angst, unrequited love(?), house being horrible at coping, Cancer scare, bad grammar and punctuation, badly explained medical stuff, Spoilers for house md Season 7 episode 15

A/N: there’s a serious lack of house md fan fiction so I’m going to throw in some of mine, hope you like it. Also, i don’t know the specific time of when the episodes take place so I’m just going to make some guesses.

———————-

March 7th 10:00pm

You, the head of ER was sitting in a bistro with your friend Lisa cuddy, dean of medicine while she was talking about how she found blood in her urine this morning.

Being a good friend, you were obviously concerned, and she was grateful that you were there for her.

There were times that you were envious of her, like her success or the fact she is dating your long-time crush, house. But you two had a bond that would make it feel really difficult to be in a world without each other.

She told you that she is going to get an ultrasound tomorrow to see if she has a tumor.

“…please, promise me that if anything happens to me, you will take care of Rachel for me.” She said with a slightly shaky voice.

You replied in a comforting tone that “Lisa, you’re a strong woman, I’m sure it’s nothing to serious, just relax.”

“Well I hope so, thank you by the way” cuddy replied

March 8th 1:00pm

You were standing at the front desk of the hospital as you notice cuddy passing by so you decided to ask her about her appointment.

“So…how was the ultrasound?” You asked nervously. “...there’s a mass in my kidney”

“What?!..I mean, it could be benign so there’s no need to panic..”

“Yeah, I know, but I still need to make sure that everything is ready just in case I-“

You cut her off and said “You won’t, tell me you won’t”

“I’m a single mom, I need to make sure everything is fine even after I’m gone.” She replied tiredly.

“Fine, but I’m sure it’s nothing and that you’ll get through this” you said as you calmed down.

“When’s your biopsy?”

“Tomorrow”

March 9th 2:30pm

Cuddy was having her biopsy and you really wanted to accompany her but, the ER was overflowing with patients from two busses full of people crashing into each other so, you were completely occupied.

When the mess in the ER finally died down, you went to look for cuddy and as you finally found her, she told you that her biopsy was inconclusive so the mass in her kidney has to be removed for the doctors to know what it is.

“Shit man, hey Lisa, I want you to know that I’m always here for you alright?”

“I’ll keep that in mind and also, thank you I really appreciate it”

“No problem”

5:00pm

You were sitting by cuddy’s bed as you two were talking about random topics just to pass the time.

It felt almost surreal seeing your best friend in a hospital bed, preparing for surgery after you’ve seen so many people die in the same situation. You were truly scared for her and as you saw house step into the room, you left to give them some privacy.

When cuddy came safely out of surgery, you were over the moon that your best friend was safe.

March 11th 1:45pm

Everything was fine two days ago, cuddy was happy, house was happy and everything seemed to be going smoothly. But luck didn’t really seem to follow Princeton Plainsboro, since its most famous doctor is back to taking drugs in front of patients and harassing the dean of medicine.

Your best friend also seems to have distanced herself from everyone so you assumed that they broke up but you were still so confused about why they did that because they seemed just so happy.

You debated if you should confront cuddy about this but in the end, you decided against it because she just seems to want to be left alone.

March 15th 2:15pm

Nothing is right.

Work had become a nightmare because you had to assist house’s team on a case since house was having his breakup arc and marring strangers just to piss off Cuddy.

You were tired of his shenanigans so you decided to just ignore him and focus on your work. But you were never really the lucky type because while you were charting down your notes, house walked towards you and asked.

“Hey, doc do you wanna get a drink?”

“Wait what?” You answered confusedly.

He then answered with “It’s not rocket science, I’m just asking if you want to get a drink with me.”

You gave him a bitter chuckle and said “sorry house, but I don’t go out with married men.”

“what, I can’t get a drink with a coworker now? That’s just sad” he replied with a fake pout on his face. “And plus, you and I both know that, this marriage is a sham.”

“Well I’m sorry if I don’t want to go out with a coworker who ignores me 24/7 until they get broken up with by my friend” you replied sarcastically. You then continued with “I’m not going to be your next little scheme to piss off Cuddy with, but hey bonus points for being clever, ex’s friend? Never would of thought of that.”

“Oh c’mon, how could I do something like that to dear old Cuddy, and it can’t be that tough to get a drink-“

“I love you alright?” You cut him off again.

It felt irrational to get mad at something this small, but for some reason this entire interaction was pissing you off and you don’t care if house was just trying to make you mad.

“I have loved you, for WAY to long and my brain has somehow rationalized that, but this is a problem and if you even think that I’m stupid enough to play along and hurt everyone that involuntarily got involved with this then maybe you should rethink your strategy.” After yelling at house you just walked away while looking at everything that might just make this hurt less as he just stood there, not knowing what to say after that.

Even with the lump growing in your throat, you knew you did the right thing because even if he did truly like you, you knew that he is still hung up about Cuddy and you know that if you were to get involved with him, you would be taking advantage of everything your friend and her ex have gone through.

——————————-

Yeah I really don’t know about this one, not one of my proudest.

But I still hope you like it

Buh bye!

#house md #house #house m.d.#gregory house #lisa cuddy #cuddy #greg house #house x reader #Gregory house x reader #greg house x reader

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specialagentlokitty · 4 years

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House x reader - The brink of death

Lonely.

That’s what you felt right now, sitting inside the contained area as your friends sat on the other side of the thick glass.

Each breath you took made your lungs burn, your whole body ached. You could barely move, even sitting up in bed like you were doing now was agony.

“How’re you feeling?” Cameron asked gently.

Looking to her, you gave her a grin smile.

“I... not... good...” you rasped out.

Your body wracked with coughs, each one filling you with agony. Eyes squeezed shut, you held back your tears, covering your mouth with your hand.

Once you stopped, you panted for air, pulling your palm away to reveal blood which you quickly hid, grabbed a tissue, wiped away and wiped your mouth.

“(Y/N), is everything okay?” Chase asked worried.

You just weakly nodded and turned back to them. Cameron, Chase and Foreman all stood there, looking worried and agitated that they couldn’t do more to help.

“We’ll figure this out, okay.” Foreman said, determination filled his words.

You just nodded again, and rested your head the pillows. It was a bit easier to breathe like this, but not much.

Their pagers went.

“We have to go, we’ll be back.” Cameron muttered.

They all seemed hesitant, but they left, and you picked up the bloody tissue. Reaching down the side of your bed, you dropped it into the bin with the rest.

They weren’t allowed to enter, Cuddy made that absolutely clear. Other doctors and nurses were, but no one from your team. Not even Wilson or House.

House...

You wondered if he cared, you hadn’t seen him once since you were in here. You tried calling him but he never picked up.

Maybe he didn’t want to see you, maybe he was busy. You didn’t know, but there was something you wanted to tell him.

Something you HAD to tell him, because with every hour that went by you got worse and worse. It had only been 16 hours, you kept track, but it was moving to fast, and they were running out of time.

You were running out of time...

Closing your eyes, you lightly groaned in pain, and shuffled a little.

You weren’t sure how long you had been laid like that for, but your body suddenly shot up, in a panic you reached down and grabbed he bun, bringing it up just in time to throw up into it.

Blood, that’s all it was. That was the second time you threw up blood. Your body was shutting down.

Taking ragged breaths, you set the bin back down. You lowered yourself once more and remained completely still, the only thing telling them you were alive was your chest, slowly heaving up and down, and your slow heartbeat on the monitor.

That’s when you heard it.

The steps on the floor, the unmistakable tap of his cane coming closer until it stopped.

“How are you holding up?” He asked.

You didn’t reply.

“You look horrible.” House commented.

Again, you said nothing, but you stiffly turnt you’re head to face him.

House sighed, and pressed his forehead to the glass, closing his eyes. You watched him, silently. He looked exhausted, he hadn’t slept, that was clear as day.

He looked like he was in pain too.

“I’m... tired...” You rasped.

House’s head snapped up, and you offered him a strained smile before it fell.

“I... can’t... breathe... I... hurt... everywhere... I’m... dying...”

“No, no you’re not dying okay. Not today, not for a long time. Just hold on a little longer, we’re going to figure this out. We just need time.”

“I... don’t.. have... time...”

“I know!” He yelled, “I know you don’t have time! But we need more time!... please...” his voice grew softer, “just keep fighting, we’re nearly there.”

You two stared at each other, this was the first time you had seen him like this. The first time Gregory House had looked so desperate, worn and scared.

“House...” you breathed out.

“You can’t just give up, not yet.” She said sternly.

It went silent again, House reared hisbhead on the glass for a few more seconds before he started to leave.

House hadn’t noticed the rapid decline of your monitor, how could he with his back towards you?

“I... love... you...” you coughed with a smile.

House stopped, eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something but the dreadful tone of your monitor cut him off, Doctors and nurses were rushing into your room, fully equipped.

House stood, watching as they tried to start your heart again, again, and again.

5 failed attempts, his face fell. 5 failed attempts to start your heart, this would be the last one.

He heard the charging and the shock, then nothing.

“No.... come on...” he whispered under his breath.

That it started, it was weak. But it was there, that was all House needed to know. You’re alive, and he WAS going to save you. No matter what.

That’s what he did, he pouted everything into getting you diagnosed, and finally he had done it. After nearly 6 more hours, they finally knew how to treat you.

“She’ll take a while to fully recover.” House said as Cuddy and Wilson walked in.

“At least she’ll live.” Cuddy smiles gently, “all thanks to you.”

Cuddy left after that leaving it just House and Wilson, watching over your pale frame.

“She said she loved me.” House said, absentmindedly.

“What?!”

Wilson snapped his head towards House, trying to find some sort of indication of how he felt about that, but there was nothing.

“Do you love her?”

House stayed quiet, did he love you? He’d never really thought about it before, he’d never really thought about dating again, or love.

So, he stayed silent.

“House, do you love (Y/N)?”

Again, nothing. So, Wilson just left, leaving him alone.

House walked over to your bedside, and stared down at you. Then, making sure no one was looking, he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and straightened up.

“A horrible choice, really, to love me. Bad idea.”

With that, a small smile on his lips, House headed back to his office

#house md #house md x reader #house md x you #house md imagine #gregory house #gregory house x reader #gregory house x you #gregory house imagine

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dilfhanni · 4 years

Text

Your pregnancy is... interesting to say the least.

“I’ll see you next week, Jane.” You smiled at the older teen as she left your office before sighing and leaning back in the armchair. You didn’t have the energy to get up and walk over to your desk, a wave of nausea coming over you yet again. You swallowed hard and closed your eyes, putting your hands on your stomach and trying to will the nausea away.

It was only 11 am and usually any morning sickness would have been gone by now. You were thankful for the fact that you had no other patients to see until 1 this afternoon because you didn’t really think you could sit through an hour-long session without vomiting. That wasn’t really a good look for a psychiatrist. You heard your door open and you opened your eyes, seeing House come in with what looked like two cups of coffee. But you knew better, one of them was tea for you.

You had already complained to him this morning that you felt like you were going to leave a trail of vomit behind you all day, but you didn’t think he would actually come to your office to take care of you. You figured Wilson told him to come check on you as opposed to him taking time out of yelling at the team to run more tests and stop being morons. Or maybe that was why he came down; he was avoiding something.

“Did Wilson bribe you to come here? Or is your patient in need of a psych consult?” You took the tea from him and hesitantly took a sip, fighting the urge to gag. He watched your face closely as he sat down across from you on the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I can’t come and take care of you without it being about something else?” He leaned back on the couch and took a sip of his coffee before placing his feet on the coffee table between you two. You rolled your eyes and sat the tea down on the table, not wanting to upset your stomach even more. Your action seemed to catch his attention – as every little thing did – and his eyebrows scrunched together a bit.

“Are you still nauseous?” You nodded and groaned, leaning your head back and closing your eyes. You just wanted to get past the worst of everything to get to the good things. But there were no good things, you just kept eating and vomiting and getting a terrible headache every day.

“Yes, and I feel like shit. But I have patients today, so I can’t just go home.” You opened your eyes and looked at him, biting down on your bottom lip before speaking again. “Unless, someone wanted to tell Cuddy they were concerned about my wellbeing for today and suggested that I go home. Or insist, if they want to.”

“You want me to go tell mommy that you’re sick and you need to stay home from school today?” His voice was a bit mocking and you poked your bottom lip out in a pout, forcing yourself to get up and sit next to him on the couch. You leaned closer and placed a soft trail of kisses to his neck, the nausea having passed. You couldn’t help but to put your hands on him, he was too close for you not to.

“Please? And maybe you can come home too, leave the minions to do everything for you. I’ll repay you for your kindness.” You looked up towards his face and made eye contact, licking over your lips as you raised your eyebrows slightly. House turned a bit to face you, setting his coffee on the table as his lips began to pull into a smirk.

“Are you suggesting we ditch work to go home and have sex? Because, believe me, I’m all for it. But I have a feeling you’re going to go back to wanting to vomit any minute now.” He reached forward and cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours for a short moment. You sighed a bit as he pulled his face away, your face scrunching up in annoyance.

“Fine. I’ll just tell Cuddy myself and deal with her million questions.” You sat up and gave him a serious yet concerned look, your hands grabbing both of his as you began to imitate her; very spot on you might add.

“Oh, (Y/N), are you sure you’re not taking on too much work? It can’t be good for the baby to be so stressed out! And what about House? Is he taking care of you?” You gasped slightly and placed one of your hands on your chest, feigning worry. “Is it only nausea or are there other symptoms? Let me run some tests! Oh, you poor thing, I can’t imagine how much you’re suffering what with House andthe pregnancy!” You couldn’t help the smile that came on to your lips as he let out a laugh, his smile mirroring your own.

“You think she’ll be any nicer to me? She thinks I’m making you birth the spawn of Satan.” He took in a slightly deep breath before biting down on his bottom lip a bit. You felt sadness when his smile faded, remembering how everyone reacted when you told them you were keeping the baby. It took a week for you both to figure out what you were going to do and still it felt like it wasn’t happening.

You both sat on the couch in silence, the events of just a few days ago playing over and over in your head. You were pregnant and you didn’t know what to do. On one hand, you wanted to terminate and keep living your regular lives. You didn’t think you were ready to be a mom and you didn’t want to pressure House into staying with you because of a child. On the other hand, you were happy with this accident. You could see it playing out in your head and you could see him with your child, and you could see you two being wonderful parents. You wanted that.

You looked over to him and saw that he was already looking at you, his face full of confusion over what was going on and some sort of… happiness. It wasn’t strange for you to see him happy; it was strange that this happiness was a different kind. You took in a deep breath and prepared yourself for The Conversation.

“I… What do you want to do? And be honest with me, don’t just-“ You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head, you knew he’d be honest with you. You didn’t want him to make you make the decision, you didn’t know if you could. You needed to know how he felt.

“When am I not brutally honest?” The usual bite to his voice wasn’t there, he was being softer with you. You didn’t know what that meant. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on his cane, closing his eyes as he seemed to think. All you two have been doing is thinking and not talking. “I don’t know what I want to do. I really didn’t think this would ever be a problem for me.”

You nodded slightly and your shoulders felt more relaxed. You didn’t expect this to be a problem either, but it is and now you have to deal with it. You brought your legs up and sat with your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped around your legs as you rested your chin on your knees.

“I don’t know if it’s hormones or what I actually want – and it’s okay if you don’t want this – but I want to keep it. I think… I think we can do this and that we’ll be good parents. Fuck what anyone else has to say, that’s how we’ve always thought, right? I don’t want what anyone else says to influence my decision now because then I won’t know if I’m making the right one.” You kept your eyes on the letters on his t-shirt.

More silence followed but you didn’t mind it, you took comfort in it this time. He sat up and looked over at you, his hands a little tight around his cane. You couldn’t make eye contact, not just yet. You didn’t know if he would want it, too; and that made you nervous.

“But, what if I’m not what you expect? I can’t make any mistakes with a kid involved. That’s… (Y/N), I can’t do that.” You saw how distressed he looked and you let go of your legs, reaching out to hold his face and make him focus only on you. Your thumbs brushed softly over the scruff on his cheeks as you shook your head a bit.

“You are the most incredible man I’ve ever known and you will be an incredible father. I don’t have any expectations from you because I don’t even know what to expect from myself, but I do know that we can do this and we won’t fuck up.” You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, searching his eyes for any sign that he believes you when you pulled back. You weren’t lying to him; you had a hard time doing that as it was. But you knew how his mind worked and you knew he had a hard time believing things you say when they’re words that praise him.

“You really want this?” He reached up and held onto one of your hands, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Yes, I really do. Do you?”

“Yes.” You felt your eyes begin to water and you blamed it on hormones. You immediately crawled forward and pressed your lips to his, straddling his lap as your lips moved together in a careful rhythm.

After a minute or so, his hands had wandered to your waist and his fingers had slipped under your shirt. Your breathing had gotten a bit heavier and you pulled back, his lips immediately going to your neck. You ran your fingers through his hair and bit down on your bottom lip, dreading ruining the moment with what you were about to say.

“You know this means telling everyone, right? Having them involved in our – ah – personal life?” You couldn’t help but let out a surprised noise when he bit down slightly where your neck and shoulder met. He mumbled a response against your skin and you gently pulled his head back, kissing him because you couldn’t help yourself. You forced yourself to pull back once again, his hands now wandering down to the waistband of your pants. “Speak. I need to know you’re okay with people being more nosey than usual.”

He huffed a sigh and slipped his fingers into the top of your pants, trying to move things along a bit. You could already feel how hard he was and you didn’t want to spend more time than needed talking about unnecessary things.

“Yes, they’re already asking me when you’re due. I trained them to be nosey and it’ll be annoying but, if I recall, we’re grownups who can tell them to fuck off.” You smiled and nodded, his mouth already reconnecting with yours as butterflies filled your stomach.

“Our baby won’t be the spawn of Satan. They’ll be a genius with your eyes and my charming personality.” You smirked a bit and pressed your lips to his cheek before getting up from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. You could feel your shirt rise up a bit over your stomach and a smile came to your lips, remembering how you checked this morning to see if your small bump had gotten any bigger. You were now in your second trimester and you were sporting a very small but very proud bump.

“It’s okay, I don’t really wanna go home anyway. I’ve got a new patient today that seems interesting.” You walked over to your desk and grabbed their file, sitting back in the armchair and looking at House over the top of the file. He was giving you a warm smile, his eyebrows raised slightly. You lowered the file and raised your own in question. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Gregory?”

“You’re starting to show. A lot more than before.” He held his hands out to you and you got up, moving to stand in front of him. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close to him. You watched with a wide smile as he carefully placed his hands on your bump, a small smirk forming on his face. You watched as he spoke directly to your stomach, his eyes focused on yours. “You know, you give a lot of trouble for being so small.”

This was something he was starting to do as of the last two weeks and you still felt butterflies fill your stomach whenever he did. He first claimed that he was just practicing for when the baby would be able to hear in just a few short weeks, but you think he was trying to make things more real for himself. You also think he enjoyed hearing his own voice too much.

You talked to your bump in private, feeling a bit weird for talking to your own stomach. But he had caught you one day – that he wouldn’t admit, but it was obvious – and started talking to your stomach as well. It now was routine that before bed you would each say something to The Bump, whether it was telling the baby that everyone else was a moron or that you needed a few days of rest from the nausea and headaches.

“It’s a cute little bump, I like it. And don’t make it sound like they’re redecorating my womb and it’s not to my liking, they’re just giving me normal symptoms.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, the moment interrupted by a knock on your door. You groaned slightly and pulled back from House, turning to the door expectantly. Cuddy walked in and you groaned even louder in your head. A perfect moment gone because of an interruption longer than two seconds.

“Is there something I can help you with?” You walked over to your desk, picking up your tea as you went. You started to sort through some files that you had laid out, putting away whatever you didn’t need to have a clearer space and deciding to sit down to get comfortable.

“Your patient said you looked like you were going to vomit all over your office. I came to see if I had something to worry about.” She looked between you and House, her eyebrow raising. “I also figured I’d find him here. He owes me clinic hours.” You looked over at House – his face giving away his annoyance and dread – and decided you needed a break from your office, so you spoke before he had the chance.

“I’ll cover his hours.” You took a sip of your tea and gave her a smile, walking towards the door to head down to the clinic. She scrunched her eyebrows together and opened her mouth like she was about to argue your decision. “I’m fine, morning sickness is gone now. Besides, if I throw up, there’s plenty of nurses to get me a trash can.” You moved past her and headed to the elevators, finding a strange sense of comfort in getting to work the clinic today. You needed it to cure your boredom and drive your focus away from anything pregnancy related.

You bit down on your lip, the cold of the room making you shiver a bit as you waited for your doctor to come in. House was looking through the equipment set up beside you and making sure everything was good enough, something to calm his nerves. But he would never say that out loud, you just happened to know him well enough to see when he was nervous.

“House, everything is gonna be fine. It’s not a big deal if you lose a bet. You did bet on the baby being a girl, though, didn’t you?” You gave him a serious look, his eyes looking up to find yours as he stopped fiddling with the ultrasound wand. He got that look, like he had figured something out, but not the same one he got when he solved a case. It was more… devious.

“Are you in on the bet, (Y/N)?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, just above your bump.

“You’re a bad influence, what can I say? Yes, I’m in on the bet, if you must know. I know I’m right so I figured why not make money off of it?” He walked over and sat in the chair beside you, leaning forward onto his cane as he stared you down.

“Well, you’re gonna be losing money, sorry to break it to you this way. It’s a boy.” His eyes narrowed just a bit, a smirk forming on his lips. You narrowed your own eyes back at him and as you opened your mouth, the door opened and your doctor walked in. Followed by Wilson.

You looked up at them and raised your eyebrows, confused as to why Wilson was here. But House was not confused. He just greeted him like he told him to be there. Which means he did.

“Wilson, what are you doing here?” You watched as he pulled a chair up next to House and smiled warmly at you, gesturing to House as he spoke.

“I’m here to see if I’m right about the gender. My bet is on a girl.” You smirked at House and gave him a slight eyebrow raise as if to say, “See? I’m right.” You turned your attention back to Wilson and shook your head at him.

“No, you’re not going to be here. You can find out when everyone else finds out. And just so you know, he’s definitely going to lose. He just can’t admit it.” He held his hands up in surrender and walked out without a fight, knowing he’d lose against you anyway. You turned your attention to your doctor and smiled brightly. “I’m ready to see if I’m gonna win fifty bucks or lose them.”

You and House had everyone joined in his outer office and he was scribbling something on the whiteboard, having it turned around so no one else could see. You watched their faces fill with anticipation, part of you wondering how much of it was just them wanting to know if they were right and how much was genuine curiosity.

“House, would you please inform them how much money they either owe or have won?” You glanced at him and felt butterflies in your stomach, he gave a small nod before turning the whiteboard around. You could see Chase’s face drop into slight anger and mostly awe. Cuddy’s lips pursed for just a second before everything dawned on her and she started beaming. Thirteen, Foreman, and Wilson had their own individual victory dances and you couldn’t help but to look at House with a bright smile of your own.

“Pay the woman, she was right.” He held eye contact with you for a few moments, his eyes shining with pride and pure happiness. You could faintly hear Taub telling the others that he was glad he didn’t get in on the bet because he would’ve lost.

You were having a girl and it wasn’t like it mattered at all to you, but now everything felt so much more real. You were halfway through your pregnancy and now you could spend as much time as you wanted nagging House for which baby names he liked. You could see him holding her and teaching her the concept of sarcasm and him being protective over her. You could see nights spent with the three of you on the couch at every stage of her life and you could see him trying to calm you down when you got overly worried about her.

Everything was very real now, much more than before.

Cuddy was the first to pull you into a hug and break your concentration, your arms automatically wrapping around her shoulders. You remembered her first concerns about this pregnancy and now she was one of the people defending your choice to the hospital staff. She had seen you glow and had seen how much closer it brought you and House together. She had seen how it seemed to change him in ways she never expected, and she was happy for you two, no longer worried that you were making the wrong call.

“I’m happy for you, I’m sorry for having my doubts.” She had spoken low enough that only you could hear and you shook your head slightly, pulling back to look at her.

“It’s okay, it’s natural for everyone to doubt anything human coming from House. But I hope you know, he’s already the best father. We’ve got this.” You could see Thirteen stepping over to you to hug you, the embrace welcomed now because – apparently – hormones made you a much more affectionate person. Or the whole change of having a baby made you see the world differently, there was really no way to tell.

“Just so you know, Remy is a really good name for a girl.” You laughed and bit down on your lip for a moment. She had been the one to help House on days where everything felt too much for him, but he didn’t want to turn to you or Wilson. She had been the one to assure him that he’d be a good father; that it wasn’t just you saying it out of love. She had been the one – besides you or Wilson – that has been closest to him throughout your whole pregnancy and for that you were thankful. You didn’t know what things would be like if he didn’t listen to her at times of self-doubt and whenever he needed someone he respected to be blunt with him.

Chase and Cuddy were handing cash to House and you saw him put his own money into the mix, tucking it in his shirt pocket. You knew you’d get the money later, but it wasn’t important to you. What was interesting was how everyone who had won gave him money as well; it was more so confusing. This whole bet was confusing you now because you didn’t know who was supposed to end up with the money.

“Why are you guys paying him? You won. And the loser’s money doesn’t go to him, either, it goes to the winners.” Your eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion, your hand absentmindedly coming to rest on your bump.

“House said we’re not allowed to have a baby shower, so this is the next best thing. All the money from the bet goes to you guys for the baby.” Wilson was the one to explain it and you felt your heart clench a bit, suddenly feeling way too emotional over a bet. You didn’t know they were doing this and being blindsided only made your extreme happiness and gratitude overwhelming you as tears filled your eyes.

“Fuck.” You raised your free hand to your face, wiping a stray tear. You then glared at House with no real annoyance or malice behind it. “You couldn’t have warned me so I didn’t cry in front of everyone?” Your breath hitched slightly and you shook your head, tilting your head back to look up at the ceiling. You never cried in front of people. You barely cried in front of House until these past few months. You suddenly felt his hand on your lower back, concern lacing his voice as he spoke low near your ear. Only for you to hear his kindness and concern.

“It’s okay, they’re aware of what pregnancy does to women.” That was his way of telling you that you shouldn’t be frustrated or embarrassed about crying in front of them, so you nodded slightly. You sniffled and wiped your cheeks, looking to everyone in the room.

“Thank you. I appreciate it more than I can say.” You saw their smiles and felt better about everything, knowing that they could see emotions from you and accept it. You felt safe knowing your baby was going to be welcomed into a world with all of these people there to support her and teach her invaluable lessons in life. Everything was going to be okay.

#house md #house md imagine #house md imagines #gregory house #gregory house x reader #gregory house imagine #hugh laurie #avenue-cherry

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hhawkeye · 3 years

Note

wilson also house ?

GOD OKAYYYYYYYY house spoilers for anyone who... hasnt seen house and doesnt know what happens by now i guess ?

for wilson:

notp: honestly sam/wilson made me so mad its been forever since i watched that part of the show though so idk if i was just going through irrational bitch syndrome but i was really like. what the hell is this. like shes your EX WIFE dude. how is getting back together with her a good idea.

brotp: tbh amber/wilson like genuinely very good together i feel like the relationship probably would have burned out had amber not died BUT i think theyd be good as friends. i also like him and cuddy as friends (when they arent playing weird mind games over house) but towards the end it kinda got weird and not as fun idk.

otp: obviously house and wilson forever and alwayssssss<3333

second choice: ummmmm. i mean i guess amber? i LIKED amber dont get me wrong i just never like. Felt it i guess because it was a little rushed due to writers strike etc but. like theres no real reason they shouldnt be together so

fluffy and angsty pairings: now see the answer to both of these is house/wilson. but. fluffy is like ohhhh s8 never happens<3 (actually peak fluffy is s6 happens but they get together after wilson goes furniture shopping) and angsty is. well. wilson fucking dies bro.

poly ship: ummmm i dont have one ? tbh im not really a poly guy

weirdest ship: cuddy/wilson is like supremely funny i dont ship it i never could but that one episode where wilson makes house think it Is Happening is genuinely fucking hilarious and kills me every single time. just like. god.

for house

notp: cuddy/house literally what is thaaaaaaaaaaat i cant. i cant do it. i hate it. i hate it so bad

brotp: thirteen/house!!!!!! besties!! i LOVE them so bad and i always wonder what happens after the finale since he said he’d be the one to kill her if she wanted ok writing that makes that sound so crazy. anyway i wonder what goes on there. but like ughhhhh they were so :( i loved them together i got so sad when thirteen left tbh like... fave fave fave character i love her so much. anyway she and house were like, good and also bad influences on one another and i loaf them

otp: again ITS THEM BABEYYYYYYY house and wilson literally... maybe invented love. whos to say.

second choice: hmmm. i dont think there is one? like the only other Relationship he really had was w stacy which. fuck that tbh so ???? truly idk.

fluffy and angsty pairings: again as above :-) hell

poly: AGAIN i do not have one :(

weirdest ship: ok house/chase is SOOOOOOO dumb and very hilarious. like chase comes in w that bangin haircut they get drunk and cry about their respective daddy issues and then bone and its like ? what the hell is this. house asks if cameron was good in bed. chase is like im... not gonna discuss that actually ? its a whole thing. i dont actually ship it but it would be fucking funny

#faaaaaaanks #hotdadlicense

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

Text

In My Veins (1/?)

House, M.D. Fanfic

This story takes place after the end of the series, following Wilson's death. Sorry, it had to be done for story purposes. If you've read my other fic, you know I'm a Huddy fan. This will be very Huddy. Maybe I can give them a better ending than the show.

Obviously, I don't own the show or characters. If I did, Huddy would have had a happier ending. Also, the title is based on the song "In My Veins" by Andrew Belle, which I don't own either. I highly recommend looking it up and giving it a listen. It just feels Huddy for me in regards to this story.

A huge thank you to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie for taking all of my crazy ideas and giving me honest feedback on all of my Huddy stuff, and for analyzing them with me!

This story is not as fleshed out on paper as it is in my head and will definitely be slower to update than my other fic, but it is still very much being worked on. This one is just more complicated. Please bear with me, and I hope you like what I've done! As always, feedback and comments are welcome. This story isn't as unchangeable, so predictions or something you might like to see or analyzing things are welcome too. It might be something I hadn't thought of yet.

She'd known she'd find him here. She'd known he would come after everyone else had left. She needed to see him. She just needed to know that he was okay. Her car showed to a stop, and when she got out, she saw the all too familiar figure of the man who had broken her heart... the man she couldn't help but still be in love with.

"I heard you were dead," she stated evenly as she approached the gravesite.

"I am." The familiar voice hadn't startled him. But he was very surprised she was there... and even more surprised that she didn't seem surprised to see him. "I only had you and Wilson. You left. Wilson died. Now I've got nothing," he murmured lowly after a few moments. It was useless to try hiding everything from her. She knew him almost as well as he knew her. She would wait him out until he broke. She had more patience than Wilson where he was concerned.

"I left because you drove a car through my dining room!"

"You left before that."

"When we broke up," she realized. She had expected this conversation. She'd been preparing for it the entire week before the funeral.

He just gave her a silent look. "You're not surprised to see me," he commented, looking away from her.

She just looked at him. And he could tell. "Wilson told you I wasn't really dead."

---flashback---

She stood there staring at the fresh grave, feeling... she wasn't sure what exactly she was feeling. What was she even supposed to feel? Hurt? Anger? Grief? A sense of loss bigger than she wanted to admit, bigger than she'd thought possible. When she first heard she was numb. She didn't want to believe it. There was no way the man who had caused her so much grief, who she had watched pull through so many other life threatening instances, was dead. She'd actually come to believe he was too damn stubborn to die. And then she found a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips, despite her best efforts, as she heard the all too familiar voice of the man in question echoing in her head: "Everybody dies."

She couldn't stop the slow, silent tears as they slid down her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away either, instead allowing herself to feel, trying to process and label what exactly she was feeling. She'd told him once that she loved him, she couldn't help it. And now it was so very clear just how true those words were.

After spotting her, Wilson allowed her a few moments of privacy to grieve before walking over. "It's good to see you. I wasn't sure you'd come, considering."

Cuddy glanced up at him, brushing her finger under her eyes to try to look presentable. "Of course I'd come," she said quietly. "He was the most incredible man I've ever known." She had said those words to House only a couple years ago.

"The man did drive a car through your house," Wilson reminded her. Maybe bringing that up would remind her of all the shit House had done so she wouldn't be so upset.

"I had to see for myself that he was..." she trailed off, unable to say the word. It was completely insane, really. She was a doctor. She dealt with life and death every day. And now she couldn't even bring herself to say the word where he was concerned. "You're a terrible doctor," she could hear that familiar smug voice again. God, he was never going to be out of her head. "Maybe if I'd been there..."

"You could have, what? Saved him?" Wilson asked, arching an eyebrow.

She just gave him a silent look. She was beating herself up... she was feeling guilty that she hadn't been there to at least try to save him. For a long time she'd been the only one who could... from many things. This time she wasn't there, and now he was dead.

Wilson saw the guilt she felt at not being there to be his savior this time. "You always were his heart," he commented then, making a decision. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't going to let House keep hurting her. "He's not dead."

"Wilson..." she started, realizing her friend was probably processing his own grief and loss. He must be in denial.

"He's not. It's fake." He then went into detail about how House faked his death and the reasoning behind it.

For the second time in a week, Cuddy felt numb. And the familiar anger only House could provoke in her flared. "That son of a bitch..." she almost growled.

---end flashback---

She was quiet for a moment. "He saw me at your grave. He knew I was upset."

"I told him it wouldn't make a difference to you."

"How could you think that?!"

He shrugged. "I was already dead to you. Actually being dead would serve as an improvement. Then you wouldn't be tortured by guilt over how much you hate me."

"I've never been able to hate you, House."

"I've got a lot of memories that would beg to differ." He saw the look on her face then. "Fine, not a lot of memories. But a handful." He was quiet for another moment. "One memory."

She was silent. What was she supposed to say? That she forgives him? She doesn't. "Two, actually," she finally stated. They both knew what the first was. But at his questioning look on the second, she turned away and looked straight ahead. "You made me think you were dead," she stated lowly. She had been almost as angry at that as she had been when he drove into her house. She felt he needed to know that.

He was quiet for a moment, processing what she said. He hadn't expected her anger at his fake death, though he realized now that maybe he should have. "And yet here you are," he finally commented, studying her.

"Wilson was my friend too."

"That explains why you came to the funeral... which you already knew I wouldn't be at since I'd be keeping up the appearance that I was dead. That doesn't explain why you're HERE," he explained. "You knew I was alive the entire time. You knew coming here now, after everyone else is gone... you knew I'd be here."

The way he still knew her and could cut through any facade she could concoct about why she was there, surprisingly caught her off guard for a moment. She quickly managed to cover the shocked expression in her eyes.

"You came to check on me," he stated, unable to hide the slightest trace of an amused smile. She did still care about him...at least a little. "Why?" He couldn't help but ask, couldn't help but try to push her buttons.

She just looked at him for a moment, her temper flaring a bit as she'd seen his smile. "We all have our vices," she replied, her voice echoing the same time it had taken nearly three years ago when she'd told him that she couldn't help but love him, turning on her heel to walk back to her car. He was an ass. She should have known better than to see him. She should have just gone back to her life... left him dead. In less than five minutes, he'd already managed to open Pandora's box inside her once again. And it was true... she was an addict, same as him. He was addicted to Vicoden, but she was just as addicted to him.

Her words caught him off guard, or at least the truth in them, the implication they carried had surprised him. And he did the only thing he knew to do. He followed behind her. "Wanna get a drink?" He asked, almost allowing himself to hope.

She had opened the door already, but paused, just before she got in her car. She told herself he'd just lost his best friend... his world was probably crashing down. And for as much as she told herself no, told herself it was a bad idea, she remembered the times her world had been crashing down around her and he'd been the one there. He was there through her struggle with IVF... he'd been there when she'd lost the first baby she tried to adopt. It was time to return the favor. "Get in the car."

#house #house x cuddy #house m.d.#house md #house fanfic #huddy #greg house #lisa cuddy

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joaquinbumblebee24 · 4 years

Text

Onslaught 2/11

It was a beautiful June day, House was riding his motorcycle around the university. He was thinking through everything that would probably go wrong in the Philippines, what if there was a typhoon? During his time in the country, there have been three significant storms, one of which was called Monang. He had recalled the thunder; lightning and the wind.

House hated the wind most; he hated the electric fans at home. Wilson had a fan in the study that he hated. The sound of it and how the fan felt was greeting on his nerves.

He parked the motorcycle at a park near PPTH. The team had no case. It was a frustrating day After Cuddy had browbeaten him into working the clinic. House was sent plenty of mothers and their kids. The crying got to his nerves; he told a parent that his son wasn’t dying rather unkindly. Cuddy was called; she had reprimanded him for being callus in front of the father. As he stormed out of the exam room, Cuddy’s words echoed. “He can’t control himself.”

“Control yourself, Rory.” His mother’s voice played in his ears. House slammed that thought out of his mind. The fact was he couldn't change the fact that he was autistic, even if he wanted to.

“Penny for your thoughts?” House was startled by Wilson’s words. He turned around. “I heard about the incident in the clinic; You alright?” Wilson’s voice resonated in House’s ear.

He sometimes hated that he and Wilson had been best friends before turning their relationship romantic. Wilson knew him very well. House nodded. “It wasn’t fair.” He knew he sounded childish, however, he didn’t care.

“I know.” Wilson just smiled. “So you ran from the hospital to the apartment, got your bike, rode it.”

“Yes, did Cuddy called you?”

Wilson shook his head. "No, I heard it from Brenda the clinic nurse.”

“Am I a bad person to say that I want something to go wrong in the Philippines so that I could help?” House asked.

The constant pressure on House to be somewhat normal was taking a toll on him. “We could do Doctors without Borders if you want.”

“You're missing my point, Jimmy.” Said House as he faced Wilson now. “I wished for a distraction, not to create one.”

“Well, yeah. I know what you mean.” Wilson said. “Back to the hospital, or you want to go eat out?”

“Eat out, definitely.”

They loaded the bike to their SUV, It was a Volvo bought by Wilson for its safety features. House thought that it was a boring car.

They headed to dinner at a small pub outside of Princeton. It was an LGBT bar, which was own and operated by Dylan Crandall, House’s friend. They ordered the usual, House loved their Rubin sandwiches, for he could order it dry without pickles. He’d been a picky eater all his life.

“Where’s Dylan?” House asked a waiter.

The waiter sighed. “Crandall is out picking Leona from NYU.”

House resumed eating his sandwich. Meanwhile, Wilson ordered BLT. He was aware that Wilson was watching him. “What?”

“Is it just me or you looked handsome today; In your gray jeans and a rolling stones shirt? ” Wilson said, as he looked House over.

House rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, you like objectifying your spouse.” They ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence. After dinner, they shared coffee crumble cake.

House wondered outside; while Wilson paid the bill. The diagnostician was deep in thought; as the parking lot of Crandall’s.

Wilson halted his pace. “Greg? You alright?” Wilson knew not to worry about the pacing, it’s just stimming. House nodded, Wilson led him in their car.

Once in the comfort of the car, Wilson asked. What’s on your mind, You know you’re a bit distracted?”

House wanted to lie, but Wilson would deduce it out of him. “I overheard Cameron and Hadley talking about my birthday. Wilson could certainly guest the meaning of that statement. “Don’t talk to them. it’s my business, not yours.” Wilson nodded.

They drove back, while they were in the car headed home Wilson asked, “So, what do you want to do on your birthday?”

House sighed, “Monster jam. Then dinner and drinks with you.”

“Of course, your wish is my command,” Wilson said sardonically. He called. ‘Siri’ the car's assistant. “Are there any monster jam shows near Princeton on the eleventh?” House smiled. Siri answered with an affirmative. In Trenton, five o’clock. Wilson booked two tickets.

House didn’t like surprises because he knew needed for what to expect. Wilson always asked him what he wanted to do on his birthday or what he wanted for Christmas.

They arrived home. As soon as House was inside, he kicked his Nike’s AirMax 90’s and went to his piano. While Wilson went to the study to work on House’s infectious disease speech.

***

The next morning while Wilson was working on paperwork, n there was a knock on the door. It was Cameron and Hadley. Wilson had the urge to roll his eyes.

“Dr. Wilson?” Cameron said.

“What can I do for you, lovely ladies?” Wilson said sardonically.

Cameron looked at Hadley, urging her to speak. “Its House’s birthday next week,” Hadley said. “And we want to surprise him.”

The woman looked at him strangely. “Why?” Hadley asked.

Wilson sighed again. “He doesn’t like surprises.” Cameron quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t go behind his back,” Wilson warned.

Wilson quirked a brow. “Who are ‘we’?”

It was Cameron who said. “Just the two of us, Foreman doesn’t want to be bothered, and Chase said no right away.”

Wilson sighed. Chase knew that House was autistic; House had informed him because he had a meltdown in front of Chase that first year. He told Chase that House hated birthdays. “Please, don’t bother him, girls.”

The women looked at him strangely. “Why?” Hadley asked.

Wilson sighed again. “He doesn’t like surprises.” Cameron quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t go behind his back,” Wilson warned.

“I don’t understand, Dr. Wilson; House hated surprises?” Cameron asked, fishing now.

Wilson peered the outside his office into House’s. “Cameron—“ He halted when he saw House. Cameron and Hadley peaked at the balcony door. House was pacing and muttering on his side of the balcony. “Cameron, Please, don’t surprise him, now shoo.”

The moment Cameron and Hadley left, Wilson went outside to speak with his partner. “Greg? Everything alright?” Wilson asked, preventing House’s pace. House halted; he fished out a paper from his pocket. “Clinic schedule?”

House nodded. “Yeah, Cuddy came earlier, telling me since I would be leaving in a week and a half, I should just work in the clinic. Yeah, that would work.” The last part was said with his bitter sarcasm.

Wilson knew how much House hated the clinic, and his apprehension wasn’t because it was boring. His spouse was reminded of how inadequate he was when dealing with people. “Well, what do you want to do?”

House sighed. “You know, I hate clinic duty, help me with it, Jimmy.”

Wilson smiled. “Yeah, I’ll talk with Cuddy. You have a case?” House nodded.

*** On the eleventh, Wilson woke House up with his guitar, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday, dear Greg. Happy birthday to you.” He sang and played the familiar song of greeting.

This was not a surprise for House, who the past 10 years of being together, and six years of marriage; Wilson always did that for him. “Thank you.” He said automatically.

“I got you something,” Wilson said, handing House a package wrap in blue wrapping paper. “Well, I brought you that cause you might want to play; while we were on the road.”

House opened the present with gusto. As soon as the gift was opened, he smiled. It was a Martin LX1 travel-size acoustic guitar. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love it, really.” His smile touched his blue eyes.

For someone who hated surprises, the genuine smile was huge. “I made you, your favorite food macadamia nut pancake, go to the breakfast bar before you play your new toy.”

House nodded and left their bedroom with his guitar on his left hand. He sat opposite Wilson on the breakfast bar, they ate in contented silence. After the meal, they went shower.

Wilson had an appointment today in another hospital. Afterward, he and House would be going to Trenton to watch a monster truck rally and dinner at Rafael’s; House’s favorite sit down place.

Wilson drove House to work.

*** House went to his office; after Wilson drop him off at the main entryway to the hospital. He stood near the edge of Wilson and his office’s. Cameron and Hadley were discussing inside; There was a medium-sized box, on top was a chocolate cake. He finally entered his office.

As soon as he was inside, the two ladies got to their feet and began singing the birthday song. House nearly put his hand in his ear. The sound greeted on his nerves, like nails in a chalkboard. Unlike Wilson’s tone, gentle and soothing, theirs was a little high pitch.

He didn’t saw Chase entered. “Stop it, guys!” He heard Chase yelled, “Look at him. You’re overwhelming him.”

Cameron and Hadley looked at Chase and at House. “What do you know?” Cameron asked, looking at House.

Chase started to speak, however, House had beaten him to it. “I have a sensory processing disorder.” “SPD?” Cameron asked. “That condition is associated with Autism.” House practically saw as the cogs turned in her head.

House ran from his office to the clinic to accomplish his duties, four hours in hell. He texted Wilson. ‘Cameron’s brilliant idea pushed through; I thought you informed them.’

Then his phone rang, It was his father. He should turn off his phone. The patient a four-year-old kid with pink eye asked, “Dr. Greg, what’s wrong?”

He loved working with children when the parent wasn’t being insufferable idiots; thinking that their child had ebola if they have simple flu. He answered matter of factly. “My father is bugging me.” His tone invited no questions.

After spending his time in the clinic House went up to his office. A package was laying on his desk. “To House, from Robert Chase,’ it read. House opened it. It was a yoyo, fidget cube and a weighted blanket. He smiled a bit. He won’t thank Chase, not his style, but he could buy him a lollipop.

At five Wilson entered House’s office. “Hi,” Wilson said shyly.

“Oh, hi,” House said putting his things in his blue backpack; and changing from his lab coat into his jean jacket. “Let’s go!” He said walking to Wilson and giving his spouse a kiss on the lips. “How was your day?” House asked while they walked to their car.

“Boring.”

They headed to watch the monster truck show. While there, Wilson watched House; he looked happy, peaceful even. When his favorite truck came, Gravedigger; House almost squealed in glee. Wilson smiled; He was happy to see Greg happy.

After the show, House and Wilson ate at Rafael’s.

End of Chapter 2

#house md #house md fanfiction #Hilson #gregory house #james wilson

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scornedlove · 4 years

Text

Chapter Twenty-Six

ROBYN

”What now” I groaned, putting out the blunt I was smoking to answer the door. I just poured my second glass of Moscato, and was about to get comfortable on the couch, but apparently I wasn't gonna get any peace today. After all this drama, I just wanted a moment and a blunt to myself. Before opening the door, I looked out the peep hole and was the least bit surprised when I realized who it was.

“What is it Dre?” I asked, cracking the door enough to see his face.

“If that mother fucker comes back, you need to get a restraining order on him!” he commanded, inviting himself in. I figured he'd be upset, but not enough to come back.

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but don’t do that again. Why are you here?”

“To make sure you’re okay. He ain’t putting his hands on you is he?”

“No, he ain’t crazy. It really wasn't that serious, I'm fine.” I rolled my eyes before sparking the blunt back up. I took a long drag and blew a cloud in his direction, knowing how much he hated when I smoked. Maybe he'd take the hint and dismiss himself.

“Fuck that. It is that serious. You don’t see what he’s doing to your mental health, but I do. You stay high or drunk, trying to mask whatever hurt you won’t let go. Which obviously isn’t working. If you keep fucking with him you’re going to continue to go downhill. I promise you, if I see him over here again, I’m kicking his ass.”

"Woah, chill out Dr. Graham. You don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I’m not stupid Ana, I know he’s the reason you lost your shit last night.”

“It’s not what you think”

“Oh, it’s not what I think? Well enlighten me.”

“Aundre, I'm over it, so drop it. I don't want to talk about it” I stated, turning away from him. I left him by the door and went to the kitchen to refill my wineglass, but when I turned around, he was right on my tail.

"Alright, you don’t wanna talk about that so let's talk about how horny yo ass was last night." He retorted blocking me by the kitchen counter.

"I thought you said we didn't fuck"

"We didn't, but that ain't stop you from getting yours"

"Sorry...Its been a while" I shrugged, after realizing what he meant.

"It didn't have to be"

"Aundre-”

“Tell me you would be mad if I laid you on this counter and stroked you from the back until I found our favorite sweet spot. You obviously miss it as much as I do.” he stated, closing the distance between us.

“I....I don’t want to ruin our friendship” I stammered, taking another long drag before putting my blunt back out. I turned around and attempted to maneuver around him, but he wasn’t letting me out that easily.

"We've already crossed lines that can't be undone. Just let me take care of you. I can show you how a man is supposed to love a woman.” he pleaded as he slid his right hand across my breast and began to pinch my nipple through the thin shirt I was wearing. That’s all it took for me to give in and stop resisting. His left hand began to creep up my thigh while his breathing tickled my spine, driving me crazy. It felt so good to be touched. He was almost inside my panties when someone else knocked on my door, scaring the shit out of me.

“Stop” I paused, hoping whoever it was would leave. Only they knocked again, even harder this time.

“It’s me, open up” Mel called out between knocks. I pulled away from Dre, pushed him towards the back of the house, and smoothed out my clothes before opening the door for her.

“Why you knocking like the damn police?”

“Bitch, I been blowing yo shit up since last night. I got off the plane half an hour ago and rushed over here because I was worried about you, and you lookin fresh out the salon!”

“Calm down. I broke my phone last night” I explained, breaking from her tight embrace.

“Well I called your house too”

“I just got her-”

“What’s up Mel” Dre interrupted, coming from the bathroom. “Or shall I sall Mrs. Coleman”

“Oh hey Dre. What ya’ll got up?” she asked, looking from him to me, then giving me the side eye.

“Nothing, just-”

“He was just leaving” I exclaimed, cutting Dre off before he said something to get her started.

“Yeah, I was just leaving. Call me if you need me to come back” he added, leaning in to kiss me. I turned, giving him my cheek and rushed him out the door, hoping Mel didn't notice.

“Uh, what was that?” she asked, the moment I’d closed the door.

“What?”

“Don’t bring him into this back and forth shit you got going on with Chris. You know what, we’ll get to that later, what I really want to know is what happened between you and Rayven?”

“I don’t know, I was drunk as fuck last night. Wait, how do you know about Rayven?”

“Out of all people, she called me crying and said you flipped out on her last night. She was in her room watching TV and you picked a fight with her about Chris. Next thing she knew, you were choking her.“

”She gotta be exaggerating. I don’t remember any of that shit. “

”Nah. You fucked her up, look at these pictures she sent me" she stated pulling out her phone.

“Damn” I grimaced when I saw the black eye, busted lip, and bruises on her face and neck. I refused to believe I did all that. Was I harboring that much hate for her? “There’s no way I would beat her ass unprovoked. She must’ve done or said something to get that type of reaction from me.”

“Honestly, I don’t care or even feel bad for her. I’m glad you finally gave her that ass whooping she needed” she admitted with a chuckle. “Just be grateful she didn’t call the police on you.”

“I’m grateful she’s gone. I’m tired of babysitting, hopefully she went home”

“So you gonna tell me what’s going on?” she asked, before setting her purse on the counter and lighting up the blunt that was in the ashtray. We smoked while I filled her in on the drama from the past twenty-four hours, none of it was surprising to her.

“How many times will it take him stepping on your heart for you to realize he ain’t shit?” she quizzed, referring to Chris. “Not only that, but you’re gonna fuck around and get Dre’s ass beat by Chris. I love Dre and all, but Chris is kinda psycho. I’ve seen him mad before.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen both of em pissed, and that’s not a fight I want to witness. Anyway, it wont get that far, because I’m over this shit. I’m done with the back and forth and Chris can burn in hell for how he treated me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all-”

“I’m serious Mel. He’s gonna pay for it too, imma make sure of that.”

“What you mean”

“I have Shontae’s contact info. I’m telling her everything”

“What’s everything?”

“Everything he’s done to me, she deserves to know, and I know Chris ain’t told her shit”

“Well, what you going to do if she already knows? He’s supposed to be this changed man, so he probably already told her”

“Yeah right, Chris ain’t told her shit.”

“You don’t know that. I know you’re hurt sis, but I think this is a bad idea. You should let it go and let him go. Having that much hostility towards him just means your not over him, that’s why I mean it when I say don’t bring Dre back into your drama. He was heartbroken when you dropped him a while back, he finally stopped asking me about you like a month ago.”

“Well excuse me, I didn’t know you and Dre were tight like that”

“No, Dre and J are tight like that. I’m surprised he’s sticking up for you after you used him like a boy toy then tossed him to the side. Those were his words, by the way.”

“He said that?” I frowned with irritation. “See that’s why I can’t stand men. They’re never satisfied and always in their feelings.”

“Not all men, but you should definitely leave those two alone. Stop running in circles and meet someone new.”

“I’m not worried about no man. After dealing with all this shit, I’d rather be single.”

“I’m telling you, all you need is a good cuddy buddy or two. Have fun and stop taking shit so serious. You will be so much happier.” she advised, checking her watch for the umpteenth time. “I caught an earlier flight when I couldn't get in touch with you last night, so J doesn't know I'm back yet. If I’m going to surprise him, I have to beat him home from work.”

“Ok, thanks for coming to check on me” I added, walking her to the door.

“Of course, and I mean it when I say don’t bother that girl. That’s asking for bad news.”

“I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises I can’t keep” I shrugged.

“Well think hard, because I don’t want to hear shit else that’s Chris related” she ordered, before hugging me goodbye.

I watched her get in the car and drive off, while her advice echoed in my mind. Maybe she had a point with this cuddy buddy thing. Dre left my hormones in shambles, and the fact that I'm already in a dry spell only intensified it. I needed someone to release all this excitement on.

Just when I was about to go inside, a moving truck pulled up in front of my neighbor’s yard. Four men jumped out and began unloading boxes and furniture, so I decided to stay on the porch and be nosy for awhile.

My block was pretty quiet and full of older people, so I was glad to be getting new neighbors. The last guy was an old perve and my other next door neighbor is an old cat lady. Hopefully the new neighbor would be a closer to my age.

I watched the movers work hard and fast, but the boxes were never ending. They were all drenched in sweat in no time, but the one doing most of the work seemed to be really enjoying himself. He must’ve had headphones in, because he would randomly belt out in song while busting a dance move.

I was laughing hard as hell at his lack of rhythm when he finally realized I was watching. He smiled showing his pearly whites and nodded at me, so I returned a friendly wave.

He began walking in my direction, and I could make out his face a little better. He was cute enough for a hit and quit to help me get over this dry spell. Plus, he was my neighbor's mover, it's not like I'd ever see him again.

The closer he became, the more I set my mind a quick fuck. He didn't even know what he was walking into, and by the way he licked his lips, I knew he didn't stand a chance against my hidden agenda.

CHRIS

“Okay, okay. I’m up.” I muttered at Diamond as she bit at my toes, trying to wake me. Last night was the Day of the Dead event for the gallery and I didn’t get in until early this morning. I was so tired, I crashed on the first couch I stumbled across.

I was rubbing the sleep from my eyes when Diamond started barking, so I got up to let her impatient ass out. When I opened the door, Ryan was standing there about to knock, but was practically ran over by Diamond instead.

“My bad, she’s really got to go. What are you doing here?” I asked, letting her in. We hadn’t kicked it since she started hanging with Anthony. She had to know he wasn’t staying here anymore.

“It’s about Anthony”

“Oh, he came to get the rest of his shit a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know where he’s staying now”

“He’s at my place. I told him he could stay for a few days, but it didn’t even take him that long to hop in Kiki’s bed. Now she’s dickmatized and I can’t get him to leave.”

“Wow, he’s fuckin your roommate?” I asked surprised. He was just talking about how much he missed Ryan, so I didn't see that one coming.

“Yeah, I should’ve known he would do this. I feel so stupid for falling for his cunning ass. I thought he would at least have an ounce of respect for me, but I was fooling myself.”

“Talk to your girl, she’s probably your best bet at getting him to leave”

“I tried that already. She’s the one who convinced him to stay. I hate her for fucking with him, but I hate myself even more. I guess that's my karma, I shouldn’t have done the same thing to you. I’m sorry.” she mumbled, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry about it"

“It’s just… Don’t you miss our talks?“ she asked, sliding her hand down my arm and resting it on mine. I quickly pulled away, putting some distance between us so there would be no confusion. I wasn’t even remotely interested in her.

“I’m not tripping on that. It’s not like we wer-”

“I know, but still. It was wrong and now I’m paying for it. You would’ve never slept with a friend of mine. I should’ve just stuck with you” she blurted. Her eyes widened as she searched for my reaction to her confession, but truth is, it didn’t faze me.

“I can’t even pretend to be interested in someone who’s been with one of my boys. Like I said before, I’m not tripping. How do you expect me to get Anthony to leave your place?” I asked, cutting to the chase.

“I don’t know, threaten to kick his ass. He listens to you."

"I hate to break it to you like this, but I have a girl now, I can’t get involved in y'all’s shit.”

“Oh” she frowned as I opened the door and whistled for Diamond. Usually she’d come running in within seconds, but this time she didn’t. I went out and called her several times and still nothing.

“Want me to drive around the block and see if I can find her?” Ryan offered, before she took off and I gladly accepted.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll stay here and keep calling her. She’s never done this before, hopefully she’ll come back” I explained, before continuing my search down the sidewalk.

Ryan drove through the neighborhood, while I walked up and down my block for an hour, but Diamond was nowhere to be found.

“I should’ve kept my eyes on her” I muttered after explaining to Tae that Diamond was gone.

“Don’t beat yourself up, maybe she just wanted to do some exploring. Put her bowl outside, she might come home eventually.” She suggested.

As soon as we hung up, I took her advice, but after a couple of weeks a raccoon found the food instead. I didn’t realize how attached I’d gotten to Diamond, but since she disappeared I noticed how lonely and depressing my life was.

I’d rush home after work, in case she was waiting for me. It was pitiful, but it’s not like I had anywhere else to be. Trey was in full blown honeymoon phase, so it’s not like I could blame him for wanting to be up under his wife 24/7. I made the crazy move of being committed to a long-distance relationship, so it’s not like date night was in the question.

Shante worked so much, that we only talked late at night. On top of that, she was always tired, so our talks seemed to get shorter with each phone call. I couldn’t help but to question whether this long-distance shit was worth losing another chance with Robyn. All I had to do was break it off with Tae and Robyn and I could’ve picked up where we left off. Only this time, I’d do everything right.

I’d been lying on the sofa for at least a half hour, lost in thought about the what ifs, when my phone interrupted my thoughts. Guilt rushed over me when Tae’s name popped up on the screen.

“Hey babe” I answered after sitting up and clearing my throat.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?” I asked, wondering how she knew something was off.

“You’ve been in your feelings since Diamond’s been gone. I know you miss her, I just wish I could make it better”

“You can. Come see me. You know I’m lonely as fuck.”

“Aww baby. You know I would if I could, but this is the busiest time of year for me.”

“Yeah, I know. You got time to Facetime?” I quizzed, willing to settle for a video chat.

"Not really. I’m on break, but I only have one more client tonight. Imma go home, shower, and I’ll Facetime you when I’m done” she promised before we hung up. The moment I hung up with Tae, Taylor called.

“What you got up tonight?” He asked as he smacked in my ear.

“Not shit. What the hell you eating like that?”

“Bbq and buffalo wings. I was high as hell so I had my chef make a big ass pan of em. Come hang, I know you haven’t had a home cooked meal since Mama and ya girl been gone" he teased, cracking himself up.

"Alright. Send me the address” I replied after debating on it. Not only was he right about the home cooked meal, but I also hadn’t been out in a couple of months, so I got up, showered, then headed out to his place.

I thought I had a bachelor pad, but my place was nothing compared to his. He had a four-bedroom, five-bathroom house with the works sitting on a quarter acre above Sunset Blvd. I was impressed and a little jealous all at once, but when he told me it was one of the things he inherited when his mother passed, I felt bad. No amount of money could replace my mama.

We ate and had a couple of beers before I kicked his ass in pool a couple of times. It didn’t take long for him to get sick of losing, so we got on the PlayStation. After I kicked his ass in basketball, he was over that too.

“You wanna go for a ride?” He asked, leading me through his garage. He rummaged around a drawer, then tossed me what he’d been looking for.

“You sure?” I asked, realizing it was the key to his Harley Davidson.

“You know how to ride?”

“Yeah, it’s been a minute tho”

“It’s still the same” he reassured me before starting up his Yamaha. He took off out of his garage and I followed suit, right on his tail. It wasn’t my first time riding, but I was no pro either.

We rode around the streets of Beverly Hills for a couple of hours and I actually had a blast. He taught me how to do donuts and pop wheelies. I caught on quickly and even popped a wheelie while going 70 mph. It was exhilarating and I’d definitely found my new addiction.

“You should’ve seen me whipping” I boasted to Tae, still high from the rush the drive gave me. I’d just made it in when she called me back, this time on video. Actually seeing her face while we talked made all the uncertainty I’d had earlier disappear.

“You’re gonna have to get your own so you can take me for a ride next time I visit” she suggested, talking through a yawn. She was tired as usual and her hair was a mess, but she was still sexy. That made me miss her even more.

“Speaking of visiting, when are you coming to see me again?”

“You know that I can’t. Not any time soon, so stop asking”

“I’m just saying I miss you.”

“Sorry. I’m just, you know, tired. It’s making me cranky”

“I can have Tina do some rearranging on my schedule so I can visit you for a few days.”

“That’s cool, but with the holidays around the corner, I’ve been at work 24/7. I wouldn’t even be able to spend time with you.”

“Not even on Thanksgiving? I know you’re off for Thanksgiving. I’d be cool with coming out there for one night.”

“I work Thanksgiving too. A couple of my clients are high profile models. They have a shoot that weekend and Thanksgiving is the only day I could squeeze them in. It’s a fantasy color, which means it’s going to take at least half a day.”

“Wow. You just ain’t fucking with me anymore huh?”

“Don’t say that. You know that’s not true. I love you, I just... I can’t lose my best clients and I’d hate for you to come out here and not get to spend much time with me.”

“You know...you can tell me if you change your mind about this long distance thing.”

“I haven’t and I won’t. Why would you even say that?”

“It’s obvious you’re losing interest.”

“I miss you just as much as you miss me, if not more. Stop overthinking things. I’ve just been busy, I promise. When things slow down, I’ll be out there on the first thing smoking.” she reassured me, making me feel silly.

She was right. All of the alone time I’ve had lately had me overthinking and now I was acting like the needy boyfriend. If this is meant to be, then I won’t have to force it. I know what I have to do now, fall back and give her some space.

#robyn rihanna fenty #chris brown #ff #fanfiction #fanfic #RiRi

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actual-leia-organa · 5 years

Text

Do I?

A new House fic to fix Fall From Grace (cross-posted to my ff.net account)

++++

“I do!”

Dominika smiled up at House as he slid the golden wedding band onto her finger, but House’s eyes were drawn to a flurry of movement- Cuddy had turned away, heading down the hallway towards the bedroom. He watched her go, catching Wilson’s disapproving look.

Cuddy couldn’t handle it anymore. Seeing him with that woman, seeing her say those words, seeing him put a ring on her finger. This was the final straw, and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain.

Entering the bedroom she moved aside the pile of coats and sat on the side of the bed. Her side of the bed, at least when they were together.

With tears pricking the corners of her eyes she looked around the room, a room she had come to know so well from the comfort of House’s arms.

She ran a hand along the thick cotton sheet, sighing as she remembered the feeling of those sheets against her back as she slept with House lightly snoring next to her.

She was leaning over to press her face into his pillow when she caught the scent of strange perfume and recoiled. Had...had she been sleeping in here? Had she been curled up in his embrace? Where Cuddy should be?

A tear finally broke free and ran down her cheek as her breath caught in her throat. As she’d told Wilson, she still loved House… and she thought House still loved her. So much for that, she thought morosely, since he’s now out there marrying that whore.

At the same time that Cuddy was sitting down on his bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, House was staring into Dominika’s eyes and half listening to Chase’s voice.

“And do you, Gregory House, take this woman…”

His eyes left Dominika’s to stare at the hallway, as if willing Cuddy to appear. Honestly, he hadn’t believed she would show up at all, and if he was honest with himself, he knew the pain this was causing her.

“...to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Dominika’s hand squeezing his brought his attention back to the moment, but as he opened his mouth the words caught in his throat. He knew, he just knew, that right now Cuddy was in his bedroom, most likely crying, because of him. She’d been beaten down but he just kept the blows coming. Wilson was right, he was being an utter sadist when it came to her.

And was that really the way to treat the woman he loved?

It hit like one of his epiphanies. He still loved her. He was hurting, sure, but so was she. And he sure as hell wasn’t making things easy on her. One of them needed to take the first step, and he knew it would never be her. If there was ever the moment to prove to her the kind of man he could be, now was it.

“I...I can’t.” His voice was soft, and he met Dominika’s confused eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

He turned to Foreman, who was standing there stunned, taking back his cane and limping through the crowd in his living room.

Chase turned to Foreman, who finally sighed and dug in his pocket, passing the cash to him.

House made his way down the hall and stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, watching Cuddy’s shoulders shake as she cried with her back to him.

“I’m fine, Wilson,” came Cuddy’s broken voice, not recognising the steps as House’s, “go back out there and watch him throw everything we had away on some whore.”

“Hey that’s my fiancee you’re talking about.” House tried to crack wise, his tone falling flat as she turned to face him, tears tracking down her cheeks and pain clear in her eyes.

“Please...leave me alone.” Her voice is so soft, so broken. He feels it pierce his heart, realising again how cold he’s been to her.

“Cuddy...I...I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t - can’t - do this to you.” His voice is nearly as soft as hers, his head hanging.

“It seems like you’ve had no problem moving on from me.” Her voice was quiet but the words had venom- and he deserved it.

“Christ Cuddy, I had no choice! I made a mistake, one mistake, and you threw everything away and then...then you acted like I was nothing more than something under your shoe.”

“No choice? House, you had every choice, and you picked the one to hurt me every time. I needed you, you took vicodin. Yes, I broke up with you, but I had to protect myself, protect Rachel…”

“What, you think a one-time relapse means I’m going to go off the deep end…”

“You did! You went off the deep end in every way, House! The binge, the hookers...Wilson told me you jumped off a balcony for god’s sake...I thought you’d kill yourself…”

“I wanted to.”

Cuddy froze, her mouth open. House stared at the floor, his blue eyes clear and haunted.

“I wanted to die, Cuddy. I hoped I’d overdose, I hoped I’d miss the pool when I jumped...I just...I felt like I had nothing to live for without you.”

Cuddy watched his eyes.

“You seemed to recover pretty quickly when she came along.”

“Don’t you realise by now that everything is a distraction for me? That’s all she is, a distraction. A distraction from how hurt and alone I feel without you.” His voice was still soft, sounding almost defeated. Cuddy felt her heart breaking for him.

“I hurt too, House. That seems to be the only thing we do, is hurt each other.”

His eyes came up to meet hers, and Cuddy saw they were rimmed with tears. “And we love each other.”

“Really House? Because this doesn’t feel like love. This feels like...like sadness, desperation, pain.”

House limped over to the bed, sitting beside her, facing her, open and honest. It took everything in him to not reach out to hold her.

“I still love you Cuddy.”

“I want to love you, House. But…”

“You don’t know if you can?”

Cuddy nodded but said nothing. He gently touched her arm, his fingers brushing her skin. Cuddy felt her skin shiver under his touch. Oh how she missed his touch.

“Why can’t we...work through this? Put this pain and madness behind us...try again?”

Still silent, Cuddy nodded before leaning into House. Their embrace is hesitant, almost scared. They sat for a few minutes before Cuddy pulled back.

“If we’re going to do this… we need stability House, for us, for Rachel... you need to get help. Go back to Nolan, find a new therapist, anything. You need help and you’re going to get it. We’re going to get you clean, and you’re going to tell that…that woman… she needs to go.”

House nods, his hand still gently stroking her arm, his eyes locked on hers.

“God I’ve missed you Cuddy.”

The crowd in the lounge room are awkwardly standing around, some softly speaking. Dominika stands by the fireplace pouting, until Wilson announces he’s going to see what’s going on.

Making his way down the hall quietly, he tries to catch any conversation between House and Cuddy. Reaching the bedroom door, he glances in and smiles.

On the bed House has his arms around Cuddy, and they’re locked into a kiss. It’s soft, gentle, a promise of things to come. Wilson retreats and informs the guests that the wedding is cancelled, silently thanking whatever deity that has bought House and Cuddy back to each other.

#house md #greg house #lisa cuddy #huddy #house fic #house headcanons #this is terrible ignore me

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ladygloucester · 6 years

Text

A Common Enemy - Cranesmuir

Previously…

Claire knew Jamie had given her status as a prisoner some appearance of choice and willingness. But she had realized, while lying on that bed for the first time in over a week, with her hand tightly pressed against his chest and her tears drying before being born, that being a prisoner there was a much better choice tan to be Randall’s. She had to chuckle when she reached that conclusion, combing her hair that night before going to sleep.

At first, her nodding had caught her completely off guard. She was unconsciously choosing a life among barbarians and outlaws instead of returning to the safety of her fiancé and a life with her own. But who were her own? She had no family left, no friends, nothing. She had lived the last two years under the Duke of Sandringham protection, or so to speak. There was something between Randall and the Duke, some kind of agreement that materialized in her being able to stay in his estate while he had to fulfill any obligation with the army. It also gave their status the modesty needed, at least on the outside. Because what she had had to endure since her uncle Lamb passed away, that was something she wasn’t expecting at all.

And now… Well, now Claire felt Castle Leoch as a safe haven. She bit her lip and shook her head while working on a particularly stubborn knot. No, that was a lie. It wasn’t the sturdiness of those walls. It was (and with that thought, a flash of heat flew to her cheeks) the soundness of that highlander that had acted as both her captor and her protector since the day of the ambush. A strange routine had formed between them. At first she had been wary of him, as she had been of all of the men in that group, but his consistency in treating her had made them form a bond that, even frail as it was, still existed.

Jamie had stayed with her until she felt strong enough to walk again without hitting the floor with her head. She had to reassure him she would send for him in case she needed his presence again, and his stubbornness made her promise so much.

Then stay here you shall. I give ye my word, Sassenach.

Those words kept echoing in her head, covering her in a warm feeling. And a small, brittle sprout began to grow. It was something she hadn’t felt in such a long time at first she didn’t recognize it. It was a tremulous bud of hope, and its roots were deeply set in him. In Jamie. For some reason she still couldn’t pinpoint, he had became the beacon of this new confidence, of the possibility to escape Randall’s tentacles and disappear from his life, if only to start a new path were she was nothing more than a healer and the scars in her mind and body, a long passed ill memory that wouldn’t hurt her anymore.

Claire fit in the daily activities of the castle like a needed piece in a finely oiled gear. The last physician had recently passed away because of consumption and his chambers in the basement of the castle were vacant. Mrs. Fitzgibbons, a charming old lady that basically run the castle, escorted her to them and showed her around.

“The laird tald me that this is yers for the taking. I’ll send a lass to clean it up, dinna fash.” She patted Claire’s arm fondly and climbed back up the stairs.

Claire stood there, in the middle of the room, letting it all sink. Clearly it could use some cleaning, and after a more intensive research, she saw that a lot of the ointments and preparations were moldy or directly rotten. Her nose got so burnt after a few sniffs that she left the room with a piece of paper and a quill under her arm and sat outside by the orchard to let the icy air of the morning wipe the feeling away.

That dispensary definitely needed replenishing. She wrote down a list of the herbs, plants and roots it would need, and in a separate piece of parchment, the products she could use to preserved them. With both of them ready, first she went to the kitchen to look for Mrs. Fitzgibbons and ask her where she could find the second list. She looked at it slightly furrowing and then back at Claire.

“Here ye willna find any of these, save the most basic. Lard and those. Ye’ll have to go to Cranesmuir, maybe there… Oh Jamie, lad, come here a second.”

Claire’s face lit up when she saw the broad highlander entering the kitchens… at least until she smelled her boots and wrinkled her nose, in a gesture Mrs Fitzgibbons also mimicked. Their squeamishness was welcome with a wide smile of his generous lips.

“Ach, ladies, ye dinna like the smell of manure in the morning?”

“Jamie lad, who do ye think could provide Claire here with these things in Cranesmuir?”

Jamie reached for the list and read it carefully. While he was going through the items and thinking about where to find them, Claire looked at him and nonchalantly grabbed a straw stuck in his curls. He could feel his ears starting to burn and his eyes pierced Claire’s for a second, before turning to Mrs. Fitzgibbons, who watched the scene with a knowing smile.

“Mmm… Probably Geillis Duncan. With no apothecary, she’s the closest thing you’ll find. Why, Sassenach?”

“I’m going to take over the physician’s duties while I’m here and his supplies are a bit… out of date.” She unconsciously rubbed her nose.

“Well, ye’ll have to go there then. I can escort ye, but it’ll have to be later on the day. For now the horses need all my attention.”

“Oh no, Jamie, there’s no need to…” Claire made a dismissive gesture with her hand and felt her entire body’s temperature raise when he grabbed her elbow and closed the distance between them to whisper in her ear.

“Actually, there is. Even though ye’re a guest here, I dinna think Collum wad be delighted to have ye running around on yer own. So better anticipate.” His breath felt warm against the exposed skin of her ear, and for once, Claire was thankful to wear long sleeves to cover the goosebumps that it gave her. “I’ll come get ye later, dinna fash.”

Despite Mrs. Fitzgibbons protests, Claire decided it would be better to keep a low profile and have lunch in the kitchens with the other workers of the castle. There were a few sideway looks, but nothing too obvious that could cause her discomfort. Her skin had grown thicker than she thought, and she answered the furrowed and arched brows with a disarming polite smile. By the time she was finishing the aromatic stew (and complimenting Mrs. Fitz, as she insisted on being called, by her masterful use of herbs), Jamie appeared in the kitchen with his usual long stride.

“Sassenach, ye dinna need to eat down here, ye ken?” Claire couldn’t help to notice he had a fresh shirt on and his boots were manure-free.

“That’s precisely what I told her, but she’s thick as a mule.” The scolding tone of Mrs. Fitz made her smile and she returned her empty bowl back to her.

“It was delicious, Mrs. Fitz.“

“Aye, aye… Let’s go before sun sets,“ Jamie said grabbing her arm and softly pulling her from her chair.

“Jamie Fraser, ye have the manners of a cuddie. Leave before I tell this fine lass about the time the boys stole yer clothes while ye were in the stream…”

“No need, Mrs. Fitz, no need at all.“ His tone suddenly apologetic and his cheeks, blushing fiercely. One of the men sitting at the table bursted laughing and clapped on it.

“Aye! I remember that, ’twas so cold his cock almost snapped!”

Suddenly, they were leaving in a whirlwind of laughter (Claire couldn't resist to contribute to it) and clapping behind them and a seriously flushed highlander leading their steps out of the kitchens, mumbling what sounded like a gaelic curse under his breath.

“I spend here most of the time,” he said when they finally got to the stables. His long legs almost made Claire run, but when they left the main building behind, his pace was slower and they reached the barn in a quiet stroll.

Claire let her eyes wander around. Him being comfortable in that place spoke a lot about his personality. Despite the growing cold outside, the stable was a warm space. It smelled of fresh hay and horse sweat, with a sweet sting to it. Jamie was welcomed by a few neighs from the different stalls, as his hand patted the snouts that leaned out. That almost imperceptible tension on his shoulders disappeared, as if whatever kept him in a constant state of alert didn’t matter there. He moved around gracefully, getting ready two of the horses.

“You really like it here,” Claire couldn’t help to say in a low voice, almost to herself.

“Aye. Everything is easier here.” He answered without looking back at her, finishing his maneuvers with the animals.

Jaime’s hands were quickly on her waist, propelling her up on her horse almost without effort and leaving her breathless. As casual as their physical contact always seemed, strictly limited to what was socially acceptable (Well, I could actually ride my own horse without him throwing me in the air), Claire was still struggling to get used to it. Not because she felt discomfort; that phase had been early on and already moved forward. No, it was the expectation it always raised in her chest, like watching the waves crash on the sand, against the rocks. You could tell the next one was coming, and still, the clash against the hard surface of the stone still was an amazing force of nature.

They rode in quiet company under one of those rare sunny skies that graze the beginning of the fall season. Claire closed her eyes, delighting in the warm light. It wasn’t long before they arrived to Cranesmuir, and Jaime got off the horse, pulling the reigns gently and entering the village. She did as well, following his lead into the small streets that converged in a slightly bigger square.

“Geillis Duncan lives there,” Jamie pointed with his head towards one of the bigger houses of the square. There was something indiscernible in his tone, used as he was to mask and control how his thoughts breathed into his acts and words. “I have to run an errand, Sassenach, then I’ll wait for ye here.”

And without a single word, he turned around, tied his horse to a post and got lost in one of the alleys. Claire stood there flabbergasted for a minute, looking around. Why Jamie wouldn’t go with her in this last part of their trip, she couldn’t figure it out. Maybe this woman and he…? She shook her head before resuming her steps and getting to the front door. If Jamie and this Geillis had something, it wasn’t any of her business. She knocked a little bit harder than she intended.

“Aye?” A wench answered, blocking the entrance with her plump body.

“Good afternoon. My name is Claire… Claire,” she repeated flushing. She had made a point of not saying her last name, in case anybody could relate her to Captain Randall, but she was feeling rather absurd introducing herself in such manner. “I’m looking for Mistress Duncan.”

“Aye… Wait a moment, mistress.” Her English accent was clearly not helping her gaining the trust of this maid, and when she turned around to look for the lady of the house, she closed the door unceremoniously.

In less than a minute, another woman appeared in the threshold. Claire was absentminded while waiting, and the sudden bright green eyes that fixated on hers surprised her. She blinked as to go back to reality, and made a small bow.

“Good afternoon, Mistress Duncan?”

“It’s actually Mrs. Duncan. Come inside, how can I help ye?”

Claire entered the house and the smell of different herbs filled her nostrils, making her rub her nose.

“I need some supplies I was told you can provide me with?” She asked tentatively.

“That depends on what ye’re leuking for”. Her voice was melodious, and the Scottish accent danced pleasantly on her words.

“Here you are,” Claire handed over her list. “Basic things, most of them.”

After reading carefully with a knowing smile on her lips, Geillis looked back at her. “I have most of these, aye. Ye’re no amateur, arna ye? What’s yer trade?” Geillis asked after returning the list and starting to prepare the different items.

“I’m a healer, yes. I heard Leoch’s physician passed away recently and his supplies were… Well, most of them were spoiled…”

“They were too when he was alive and kickin’. Never thought much of him. Collum seemed to trust him but, to be honest, he didna have much of a wale.” Her bright green eyes, like shining emeralds, smiled at her. “Jist like ye. Dinna need to be a witch to ken ye’re between a rock and a verra hard place.”

“A witch?” Claire repeated skeptical.

“Aye. If ye hinna heard it yet ye must’ve been here eneugh.” Being a witch was one of the worst accusations a woman could face, but Geillis never lost the playful smile from her lips, and Claire couldn’t stop producing one of her own.

“No, actually I’ve been here just a couple of days.“

“Next time ye come to see me ye’ll tell me what’s a sassenach doin’ in the middle of Scots.” While talking, Geillis had efficiently prepared almost every single item in Claire’s list and handed a basket with them, perfectly wrapped to keep the vials from crashing. She took it with an appreciative nod and headed to the door. Geillis’ voice bid her farewell.

“Bye, Claire Claire.”

Jamie was waiting by the horses, tapping his fingers against the saddle and seemed to significantly relax when he saw her back. He hadn't really run any errand, but there was something that made him feel unease whenever he was close to Geillis. So when Claire entered the house, he went back to the horses and waited leaned against the post. The moment she entered his line of sight, he unleashed the reigns and grabbed them to meet her halfway.

“Got everything ye needed?” Claire noticed he was uncomfortable for some reason, but couldn’t figure it out. She nodded after securing her basket on the side of the horse, and Jamie’s hands ushered her on the saddle. “Guid. No need to be here anytime langer.”

They made it for the castle, and Jamie’s last words finally sank in.

“You didn’t come inside because you think she’s a witch, isn’t it?” She asked repressing a smile. Jamie’s back shivered slightly. “You know, usually when a woman has some kind of knowledge other men don’t, accusing her of being a witch isn’t unheard of. But Geillis didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would dance in the middle of the night during solstice after sacrificing a lamb and a cock.”

Her tone was so light, for the first time since they had met, that Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle and follow her lead.

“I ken, but even though I didna think she’s a witch, I have no intention of crossing her. She has all my respect… from a safe distance.”

The ride back was more distended, as the sun started to get lower on the sky, bringing an almost orange light over the trees and between the leaves. Even though green was the color that pulsed through Scotland's veins, the fall hues had started to lay down its cloak over the country. The meandering hills eased the sight, their curves turning to gold in the sunset. The wind was getting a bit chilly, and Jamie looked over his shoulder to keep an eye on Claire, but apparently, she was enjoying the change of temperature. Her own eyes were closed, as she was trying to suck in everything her other senses were perceiving. In that light, her hair had turned from brown to almost auburn, and her soft curls almost looked as carved in mahogany.

The castle emerged before them and Jamie had to drown a sound of discontent, putting his eyes back on the road. Still in silence, they headed for the stables with the last light of the day. In a comfortable companionship, Jamie and Claire unloaded the horses and set the tacks aside.

Suddenly, the calmness of the place broke in a million pieces. What sounded like a runaway horse bursted in the stables, followed suit by two boys who were trying to get hold of the reigns. But the hooves of the beast kept them at bay, its nostrils dilated and his eyes wide opened in panic. Jamie run right passed her the second the horse set its running path in her direction. Instinctively, he put himself between the animal and Claire, only to push her aside when the hooves of the animal, up in the air, descended upon him.

Claire swore later she could hear the creak. It all happened too fast, especially being thrown to the ground to avoid being trampled on by a crazy horse. But when she looked up from the hay covered floor, she saw Jamie grabbing tightly the bridle with his left hand, his right arm lying tightly close to the body.

“Ye fools, Donas isn supposed to be running around with any of ye. Why did ye take him?” He was panting and his tone, and a hint of pain lay beneath the surface of apparent anger.

“Hamish wanted to ride it, sir…” One of the stable boys approached frightened but Claire wasn’t sure if he was scared of the horse or of Jamie’s dark expression. “We tald him but…”

“Aye, aye. Just put him back in there and leave him be.”

The boys nodded rapidly a few times and drove Donas, who was quiet now, back into his own stall.

“Ye fine, Sassenach?” Jamie helped her back on her feet with his left hand and a wince of pain in his pursed lips.

“I am, but you just got kicked by a horse, let me…”

“Dinna fash, just a little dawt—” He started to turn around to stay out of her keen eye and reach, but to no avail.

“Jesus, Jaime, your shoulder!”

The bone that was supposed to be fitted on top of his arm was protruding grotesquely out, even under the shirt.

“Wasn’t his fault. Donas isna used to be ridden by bairns,” he claimed defending the horse.

Seriously?

Claire gave him her best admonishing look and he stopped squirming out of her reach, sitting down with an exasperated sigh on a small wooden stool. She kneeled beside him and palpated the place, only to be received by a hiss of pain he was trying to swallow, to no avail.

“Jamie, I need you to take off your shirt. I think you dislocated your shoulder.“

His eyes stared into hers for a second before trying to get it out by himself, but even the slightest move felt like million needles stabbing him at the same time. Claire noticed and after silently asking permission and being answered by a curt nod, she pulled the hem of his shirt slowly, first the left arm, then the head, and finally the right arm. The trace of the hoof was clearly visible on his pale skin, and it would leave an awful purple bruise on him for the next few days.

She resumed palpating the injury. It was clear that the bone was out of socket and she knew how bad it hurt. Her eyes looked for Jamie’s before going any further.

“I need to pop it back into place, but you won’t like it. Trust me, the first part is the worse. You’ll feel much better in a few seconds. Ready?“

Jamie inhaled soundly and nodded, closing his eyes. Claire was right. The first movements turned his stomach and he had to claim all the strength in his body not to vomit in front of her. But suddenly, a dull sound came from her ministrations and the pain started to recede almost immediately. He couldn’t help the look of astonishment followed by gratitude that overrun his fair features.

“Better?” She smiled.

“Aye! It almost dinna hurt.”

“It will. I’ll get you something for the pain, and you shouldn’t move your arm for a few days. Is there anything we can use as sling?”

They looked around. Yes, there were leather reins, but too rough for the skin. Jamie was about to suggest her to use his shirt when she saw her ripping her underskirt.

“This will do, at least until Mrs. Fitz lends me some linen for bandages. Don’t move…”

She stood up, leaning towards him, and was about to start dressing his shoulder when she saw it. He could tell, by the sudden gasp of air that she took in, she had noticed, but didn’t expect the delicate touch of her fingertips tracing his back.

Claire’s eyes snapped in horrid astonishment. His otherwise soft, pallid skin, was marked in what seemed to had been an awful, gruesome punishment. The flogging had left deep scars all over his back, crossed in the most unimaginable ways. It was no usual beating. She could tell the cruelty, the sadism behind every single lashing. She wondered in awe how he could’ve resisted something as brutal as that.

“Randall did it,” he mumbled as if he had read her mind. “Two flogging in less than a week. He wad’a flogged twice in the same day, but I assume there’s no pleasure in flogging a dead man.” A snide came along with his last words, as Claire resumed his task and surrounded his waist timidly with her arms to secure the sling to his torso. She closed her eyes, but all she could see behind her eyelids was the scars, their pattern against the tender skin. Unconsciously, her hand landed lightly on his left shoulder. If anything, she knew about pain. And probably, even healed and years old, those scars still felt tight and sore. An infinite reminder of another human being's viciousness.

No. Not a human being. A monster.

Her voice almost didn't leave her throat as she started to head back to the castle.

“There is… Come. Come with me.”

Next…

#Outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fic #outlander fanfic #a common enemy #ladygoutlanderfic #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie x claire

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kuckie · 7 years

Text

(Long post)

I’ve watched a lot of series through my life...

...like, seriously, a ton of series, from beginning to end, some of them. I think the first series I followed, like, actually waiting for the next episode, were anime series.

Then, I watched House MD and at the same time, Torchwood. The time between a season and the next one, were 6 months approx. for both of them. So I watched series like Law and Order, CSI (all of them) which you can watch and stop watching because most of the time the episodes’ stories start and end within the episode. The background story is only interesting for some, but it is not the centre of the series (at least, first seasons)

House was like this and at the same time I couldn’t just focus on the case on the episode, I loved the background story. The same with Torchwood (although the effects turn me off sometimes). I watch other series in between seasons, I read fanfiction, I wrote some, and changed ships in House when the character development and chemistry between characters changed. First seasons I was a Houseron/Hameron shipper because the vibes where suggested by characters’ interactions, plotlines and chemistry between the actors/characters. Then, I started shipping Huddy, because the characters’ interactions, plotlines and chemistry between the actors/characters guided me to think in that direction. Finally, I was a Huddy/Wilse shipper because even though one of the characters have left the series (Cuddy), I felt in House interactions with other characters that he was suppose to keep feeling attached to her. And Wilse, because the characters’ interactions, plotlines and chemistry between the actors/characters subtext and text implied the possibility. Even though through the whole series they were mostly shown as heterosexual men, behaviour and evolution of their relationship, together with dependency in a very "special” and toxic friendship (but that’s topic for another post) allowed the ambiguity. AND THEN THAT FINAL EPISODE. Maybe it was friendship, maybe it was more of a romantic/sexual relationship, maybe it was not. But the series allowed the ambiguity with the plot.

Torchwood has a very special place in my heart. There was this gay actor (John Barrowman), playing an omnisexual character (as a pansexual who only recently-ish discovered the term, he was the first character that show me it was not bad to love everybody/every body). There were aliens, kick ass women who had personalities, that loved and were loved back, that show me unrequited love was not that bad (Toshiko loving Owen was not the centre of Toshiko’s character also) and you could live with it. A woman being the one that cheated on her boyfriend with co-workers (not that is good, but it is normalized for guys), a male receptionist/coffee boy (Ianto was so much more, just, normally, there are women on those jobs)... I shipped every ship on these series, because the characters’ interactions, characters’ personalities, plotlines and chemistry between the actors/characters showed that everybody could end having a relationship with anybody. My favorite ship, and the one I read and wrote/write about is Janto, because it was sexy (which was/is not common for gay couples in no gay centred series (Queer as Folk was gay centred and sexy at the time, for example)), it change the interactions between characters accordingly, but not all the show. A character who had a gf then had a male lover/partner (they weren’t boyfriends, they said they were together very weirdly) explained that HIS FEELINGS (not just physical attraction or sex) were confusing but that he knew he felt something for this man. HE SPOKE OPENLY about it. Shy-like, but openly. Then when (SPOILER ALERT) Ianto was killed (among other characters) and everything changed I couldn’t keep watching the series much longer because it hurt too much. Because they were going somewhere with it before. But I was not angry against the writers, because it was foreseen, it was not just a killing for the drama, it was what happen to characters on the series (because at the end of the day, they had a dangerous job).

Why, you may think, am I writing about this.

I write about this, because I want to explain something about Sherlock. I ship pairings on those series because I thought canonically on the series they would make sense. I wanted them to become canon because the chemistry between them was suggested by the writers/actors actions. I had ships like Foreman/Chase on my writings because they help me get other ships on my stories, but I never thought they would become canon, because in the show THEY ALMOST HATED EACH OTHER. I shipped Jack and Ianto before they were a thing because they spend a lot of time together and had conversations other characters on Torchwood didn’t have (also, we didn’t know about the gf for a while). I thought they might end together, but if they didn’t (before they started developing their feelings) I understood it was because there was also chemistry between Jack and Gwen, for example.

Now, Sherlock. I watched the first season in 2011, so I had a year or so to get into the fandom, analyse the series, propose ideas as to how they escaped from the swimming pool before we got series 2. At the very beginning, I got into more than just the cases. I very much liked/like the background story. It was never about the cases really.

I didn’t ship Johnlock immediately thinking about it becoming canon. I shipped it because I thought it was nice that Sherlock/Ben C face glowed when instead of being called a freak for his deductions, he was “amazing, brilliant”. Because they went to live together and they were asked if they will need two bedrooms as something casual, not a decisive point of them renting the place. Because the brother of the main character suggested it (at the moment I thought that confirmed Sherlock liked men). Because there is a scene where both the main characters said that loving people of the same gender is fine, one saying GFs are not his area (which made me think it was implicitly acknowledging he did not liked women).

But I didn’t thought at that point it will be Canon. I thought, they are playing with the gay innuendos. I thought, John Watson is straight as fuck, look, he has date after date. He want to date every frigging women on the show but Molly.

I liked Molly a lot too, so I thought maybe they will pair her with Sherlock because she is obviously interested. Maybe they will pair them with John, as a Mary Morstan adaptation. I thought Molly and John could work when she said “Sorry, I don’t know your name”, because I thought “yeah, they may start seeing each other more now and it will be a good meeting by chance, through a friend”.

However, season 2 happened and season 3... Irene Adler, John GFs and Sherlock death happened and ... the characters’ interactions, plotlines and chemistry between the actors/characters made me BELIEVE it was definitely going to be canon Johnlock. The writers cannot lead in any other direction, I mean, you mourn over a friend, but you keep going. You don’t ask a friend for a miracle of them not being dead, you are not angry with a friend because they weren’t dead and didn’t tell you, you are relieved. You on the other hand, can be angry with someone that is more than a friend, because they owed you more. They should have trusted you.

I stop shipping Molly with John when she was obviously still thinking about Sherlock (Christmas party) and began shipping her with Greg, although because of some fanfiction, I was very much into Mystrade. I never thought Mystrade would be Canon (which kinda subtlety happened-ish, but then in season 4 Lady Smallwood and WTF Mycroft) but I thought maybe Lestrolly/Molstrade (because, again the characters’ interactions, plotlines and chemistry between the actors/characters suggested it)

Then, Season 4 happened and for 2 episodes I thought it was definitely no queerbaiting when they married John, they will make history.They will make him openly bisexual. There’s no other reason to kill Mary. Without the heartbroken-pushed-to-limits-former-soldier John, he would never open his heart. Nor would Sherlock.

Then episode 3 happened and 1st, I thought it was a tribute to The Ring (Ringu). I watched it and regretted watching the episode. I thought about Molly being so sad answering the phone, not eager to answer, when in the previous episode she was there because Sherlock asked her to 3 weeks earlier. No suggested communication in between. Maybe the checking up on the ambulance would made her angry. WHo knows, plotholes, whatever.

My point is... Johnlockers don’t ship Johnlock because we are gay fetishists, because we hate Molly (we like Molly as a character for seasons, we hate what they did to her (plot device, cough cough), I’m personally sad that Lou feel attacked because we think the I love you part was awful for the character and misleading as a VERY IMPORTANT part of the series). Johnlockers had explain quite extensively why Johnlock was the only shipping possibility. And the ambiguity of everything is just awful.

On House MD you could accept the House/Wilson ship not being canon, because it was sensible as a friendship due to very well developed relationships through all the series with other characters.

On Torchwood you could understand the death of a main character because most of the characters died in related-to-job activities, not because killing the gay character was groundbreaking (which is not now, neither was nor will be ever) or a plot twist or the character was used as a plot device. Also, the actors and writers were very sympathetic to the fans who felt this as a devastating moment for the fandom.

On Sherlock you cannot accept the writers’ queerbaiting. There’s this amazing chemistry going, character developing, kick ass women... and you ignore all and make the plot developed in 4 seasons shatter on the floor killing one of the kick ass women for no reason but to strained/get back together other characters as friends, going back to your characters’ personalities from season 1 and addressing some LGBT+ issues within your own series jokingly knowing the fandom is very serious about it.

That’s why I hope there are more episodes to come on Sherlock. More series. Anything. No because I want two men kissing or fucking on my screen, but because I think the characters deserved it. Molly deserves it, because she could have been more than sad Molly. Mycroft deserves a deeper explanation of his character after what we discovered. Sherlock deserves to show how human he can be, that he deserves love, being loved, being in love. That we discover the not-so-perfect John loving, being loved back without lies and actually raising Rosie up.

#Long post #rants after being on twitter 2 minutes #Sherlock #sherlock bbc #queerbaiting #HOUSE MD #torchwood #Johnlock #Janto #Wilse

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

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House, M.D. Fanfic (5/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite and/or additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have gotten the respect she deserved contact wise for a season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter deals with the aftermath of House being shot. There was nothing to base it on since the show just completely left out anything about his recovery, really. I felt like maybe Cuddy dealing with it would be interesting.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! And also for the Slutty Nurse bit. Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

"You're not my hooker..." House stated as he opened the door to see Cuddy standing there with a bag of Chinese takeout.

She just gave him a look. "You haven't been cleared for that kind of strenuous activity yet," she told him simply, sliding by him.

He watched her walk toward his kitchen. "You brought dinner?" That wasn't something he'd planned on. They'd slept together... been sleeping together before he was shot. But that's as far as it had really gone. There hadn't been dinners. There hadn't been anything that could be considered dates. The most they would do would be to share a drink and maybe some conversation. But this... this was new.

"Yes... dinner. It's a meal that sometimes two adults share. You should try it sometime," she rolled her eyes. "How are your stitches?"

He followed to the table, watching her set out the containers from the bag. "I know what dinner is. I'm more curious as to why you suddenly feel the need to bring it here," he continued to study her. "Do you feel guilty?"

She stopped and turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Why do I have to have a reason to bring you dinner? Can't a friend just come and check on a friend?"

"Not when that friend is you and the friend you're checking on is me."

She gave a soft chuckle. "House, after the last month or so, I'd say you and I are definitely more than just friends. So stop analyzing things, shut up, sit down, and have dinner with me."

He couldn't necessarily argue with her logic. Or maybe he could, he just didn't want to. Instead he complied to her request and sat down.

After dinner, they sat on his couch, Cuddy curled into his good side as she finished off the wine in her glass. "How's your leg?" She finally asked.

He turned his head to look at her, his fingers lightly playing along her side. "It doesn't hurt."

She sat up a little, placing her empty glass on the coffee table with a smile. "Not even a little?"

He shrugged and shook his head. "Nope."

"The ketamine is working," she smiled a little more.

His hand slid to her hip and gave her a gentle pull into his lap. "Why don't we give it a test run?" He suggested, moving in for a kiss.

She laughed softly and shifted so his lips connected with her neck instead of her lips. "Nice try. But no way are you getting that kind of action. You'll pop your stitches."

"Good thing I've got a doctor who apparently makes house calls."

She laughed again and gave him a gentle shove before standing. "You're feeling this good, you're going to therapy in the morning. Start building that thigh muscle up."

"Killjoy."

She reached down and grabbed his hands to help pull him up. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Yes, Mistress..."

"To sleep, House. Let's get you to bed to sleep."

He rolled his eyes, but he didn't fight her. He was, however, going to make her work to get him into said bed.

"Take off your shirt," she told him, starting for his bathroom to get some fresh bandages to change the dressing over his stitches. When she came back and he was still standing there, completely clothed, she arched an eyebrow. "Take off your shirt."

"But Moooom! It hurts," he replied smartly.

She didn't know why she thought this would be easy. He could be extremely juvenile when he wanted. Actually, dealing with juveniles would be easier, she decided. Moving closer, she simply grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head. "You're such a child."

He smirked smugly. "You like it."

She just gave him a look, guiding him over to the bed. "Lay down so I can check your stitches."

“No Slutty Nurse costume? Cuddy, I thought making the patient happy was a priority for you. What happened to your morals?”

"Sorry. I'm a doctor. Your dirty nurse porn fantasy is going to have to wait," she shook her head, but there was a slight smile on her lips to take the bite out of her words.

"So you admit there is a possibility that you will play Slutty Nurse?"

"You make it through rehab with your leg and we'll talk," she conceded. She was careful as she pulled off the old bandage and then examined the healing wound before carefully placing a new bandage over it. She couldn't help but notice the way he sucked in a breath as her fingers delicately traced the edges of the tape she placed on his skin. "Sorry, did that hurt?" She asked softly.

"Nope..." he murmured. It was true, it hadn't hurt. He almost wished it had. It would distract him from the way her touch was affecting him. His body craved it, craved her.

She was quiet for a minute then, knowing it was probably time she left. "Would you mind if I stayed?" She finally asked instead. It was an awkward question. She felt awkward asking it. But she also wasn't going to just assume. They hadn't really defined anything between them, she just knew she wanted to stay. It was the first time seeing him outside of the hospital, and she needed to know he was really okay. She needed to be able to wake up in the middle of the night and see that he was there and breathing.

He seemed to understand, and without mocking her for once, he nodded to his dresser. "You can borrow a clean t-shirt to sleep in, if you want. Or you can sleep naked. I'm fine with either," he shrugged, getting up then to swap his jeans for pajama pants and pull his t-shirt back on.

"I'll take the shirt," she rolled her eyes with a smile before disappearing back into his bathroom to change.

"Oh, come on! I've already seen you naked!" He called out. But when he saw her in his t-shirt when she came back to bed, it cut off anything else he might have said. That was... hot. "That looks way better on you than I anticipated."

She laughed softly as she slid into bed, careful not to hit either of his wounds. "That's because I'm prettier than you," she gave him a smile.

"Can't argue with that," he agreed.

She was careful as she pressed a slow, soft kiss to his lips. "Goodnight, House," she murmured, shifting to rest her head on his chest then.

"So we're really not going to have sex? This is you literally sleeping with me?"

Her fingers gently tapped against his chest as she couldn't fight the smile at his words. "Not until you actually go to sleep," she pointed out.

"Right. Sorry," his fingers slid over her shoulder and down her arm. He actually was quiet then, not really going to sleep... it was early for him and he was a night owl... but just being able to fully relax, something her presence seemed to be able to do for him. If she needed or wanted to just lay with him, he figured he could do that for her. And he found himself actually enjoying it.

#huddy #greg house #house #house x cuddy #house m.d.#house md #lisa cuddy #house fanfic

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

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House, M.D. Fanfic (4/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite our additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, there would have been huge differences in season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter deals with House being shot. I felt we were robbed of Cuddy's reaction and the aftermath.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

"It's House..." Those words replayed in her head. She'd heard about the shooting and was on her way to ream security about letting someone with a gun just walk around her hospital. That's when she was intercepted with those words. They immediately stopped her in her tracks. She spun on her heel in one fluid motion to divert her path to the ER trauma room where they were taking him.

Upon seeing him, she immediately called to get an OR and a surgical team before helping to stabilize and treat him. Once they wheeled him into the OR, she had a chance to breathe. Everything hit her at once as she took her gloves off to throw them away... gloves that were covered in blood. His blood. And she realized just how close she'd come to losing him.

Cuddy stood in the observation room of the OR, watching as they worked on House. She'd given them the direction to use Ketamine, as Chase had told her that's the last thing House said before losing consciousness. But she stayed out of the surgery. She told herself, and anyone else who asked, that she was his doctor, but she wasn't a surgeon. She didn't want to be in the way, but she would be watching. Truthfully, she wasn't sure what she would do if he didn't make it through the surgery, and she would prefer not to find out in a room full of people.

"He's going to be fine, you know," Wilson's voice came from the doorway. "The man is too stubborn to go out this way. It's not flashy enough," he tried to lighten the mood.

Cuddy shifted, but her eyes never left the surgery going on below her. "Thankfully he hadn't sent his team out to do any tests on the patient. If he hadn't been surrounded by doctors, he would have bled out," she commented. "How's Cameron?"

"She's understandably shaken up. They all are. Their boss was shot in front of them," he pointed out.

Cuddy sighed and nodded. "Chase is down there helping with the surgery. Do me a favor and keep an eye on Cameron. Let me know if she needs anything." She wasn't really as concerned about the men, but Cameron had shown interest in House. And she wanted to make sure the other woman really was okay. "Better yet, send Foreman and Cameron home. If they don't want to go home, they can wait for an update on House, but they aren't seeing patients today. I'll send Chase after he finishes in the OR and monitor their patient myself. I'll have them paged if anything drastic changes today," she instructed.

"You really think you should be seeing patients today?" He countered.

Cuddy looked at him then for the first time since he came in the room. "No. But it's my hospital. So my rules," she responded before turning back to the surgery. "And I'm only monitoring their patient. I also plan on interviewing every security guard here to see how the hell that son of a bitch walked right into my hospital and shot him... and then got away," she said lowly. The way she was feeling, the entire security department was liable to find themselves searching for a new job."

Wilson held his hands up in self defense to make sure she didn't take any of her anger at the situation out on him. "I'll go talk to Cameron and Foreman," he said, heading back out the door.

It was two days later before House finally woke up. Seeing Cuddy curled up in the chair beside his bed asleep, he had to smirk slightly. He immediately began to try to sit up to grab his chart.

"Put it back and lay down," she murmured, stretching a little as she sat up then.

"Wow. You look like crap," he told her.

"I look better than you. And I'm not peeing into a bag," she pointed out, shifting to check him over a bit. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot," he responded sarcastically. "How long have I been out?"

"2 days."

He nodded, carefully feeling around on himself for his injuries. "2 days... no wonder you look like crap."

"Shut up, House," she finally took a seat again once she was satisfied everything looked ok.

He breathed deeply. "How bad are my injuries?"

"Surgeon got the bullet out of your side. The other bullet sliced through your jugular. It's lucky it happened while you were surrounded by doctors."

"My philosophy has always been if you're going to get shot, do it in a hospital."

"Funny. My philosophy has as always been don't piss off the patient so badly that they shoot you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Right. It's my fault I got shot."

"To a point, yeah. Most doctors just get sued, but not you. No... you have to brow beat them and push their buttons until they try to kill you."

"If you had real security in your hospital, I wouldn't have gotten shot."

She was quiet for a moment at that. "I'm working to correct that." Every security guard on duty that morning had already been fired.

"Did they tell you I wanted Ketamine?" He asked lowly a moment later.

She nodded. "Yeah. How does your leg feel?" She asked.

"Not bad. I thought it was because of the morphine."

She smiled slightly, reaching for his hand as she moved closer. "It's still early, but I think the Ketamine might be working."

Only time would tell. It was still too early for him to have hope.

#house #house md #house m.d.#huddy #house x cuddy #greg house #lisa cuddy #house fanfic

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

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House, M.D. Fanfic (7/?)

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter picks back up with the show storyline in the beginning of season 3. I did use a bit of dialogue from the episode, but I definitely added and rewrote some stuff too. I also left out all the medical dialogue House spouted off at Cuddy's bedroom window because I'm not a medical professional and had no idea how to spell it or write it, lol.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

xxxxx

"Did you really ask out Dr. Cameron?" Cuddy asked when he stepped into her office.

"Would you have a problem if I did?"

She just looked at him incredulously. Was he serious? "Why would you think I would be okay with that?!"

"Why wouldn't you be?" he shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you're already sleeping with me!" she hissed, careful to keep her voice down. The last thing she wanted was for anyone at the hospital to hear that they actually were sleeping together. She knew they were always fodder for the rumor mill, but she wasn't about to confirm it for them.

"Threesomes are sexy. And a lot of fun. You'd like it," he smirked, heading for the door since he figured that was all this conversation was about.

"House!"

"Relax. I asked her out to make a point. I'm not interested in sleeping with anyone else," he said opening the door.

"What if she'd said yes?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't have gone. You are a slave driver in the bedroom. You think I have time or energy for another one?" He grinned smugly before leaving.

xxxxx

"I can help him."

"That's it? That's your argument?"

"Seems like a good one." Why was helping someone suddenly not a good enough reason for Cuddy? Or Wilson? Or anyone else?

"If I thought for a second that you wanted to help him, you'd have carte blanche. You're doing this because it's...fun."

"Does nobody in this hospital have anything better to talk about than my motives? My motives have nothing to do with the case."

"Your motives have everything to do with your judgement."

"For the first time in years, I've got no opiods in my body, now you question my judgement? Is this still about asking Cameron out? Because I told you, that was to prove a point. Right now, jealousy has everything to do with your judgement."

"I'm not jealous of Cameron! House, 24 times a year you come storming into my office spouting that you can help someone, only you never say those words. You say something like, 'His pancreas is going to explode because his brain is on fire.' You come here with medicine, not with platitudes."

"I didn't want to bore you with the details."

"There are no details. You have a hunch. House, you don't use hunches. You always have reasons. This hospital doesn't exist for your whims. I'm sorry. As of 7AM tomorrow morning, I'm sending your patient home."

"I can help him!" he insisted.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't think you can. Because I don't think anything new is wrong with him. This is just you trying to make a puzzle out of something that isn't there."

He felt like he'd just been sucker punched in the gut. She didn't trust him on the medicine. She had never doubted him before. Sure, she'd said no plenty of times to procedures that were... questionable... she had argued with him when she didn't always agree with him. She'd never outright doubted him. That stung. And he couldn't help but wonder if the lack of pain in his leg, the lack of Vicodin in his system had caused him to see something that wasn't there.

xxxxx

"So yeah, his brain is on fire." He stood outside her bedroom window like a teenage boy hoping to sneak in.

She shook her head as she got him a towel, handing out to him once he climbed inside. "Next time use the front door."

"The guy will have sex with his wife again. He'll hug his kid again." He took the towel and began to wipe his face and neck.

"House, you have no proof. No scar tissue on the scans. This is some wild theory that came to you while sweating and running into the university pool."

"Fountain. And it all fits. Just inject him with cortisol. There is no risk if I'm wrong." He studied her reaction and knew she wasn't biting. "You're smiling. That's a bad sign."

She nodded. "You're high."

"I told you, I haven't had anything in three months. You've been with me most of that time. You know I haven't taken anything."

"This is as high as you get. A theory that ties your case up in a neat little bow, but you don't have a lick of substantiating proof."

"Your decision doesn't make any sense," he said, clearly frustrated. "There is no risk to a cortisol injection. If I'm wrong, big deal. He goes home a vegetable, like he already is. But if I'm right..."

"This is not about downsides or risk management. It is a big deal for you to understand the word no." She sighed softly. "I'm sorry, House."

He breathed deeply and released it slowly, moving to sit on her bed and toss his towel beside him. She frustrated him to no end, but she was right. He wouldn't admit it to her right then, but as his boss, she was right to tell him no. He really had nothing to go on. No medical reason other than it fit. He couldn't do this, couldn't be the great doctor he had been without the leg pain.

She moved to sit next to him, placing a hand lightly on his back. "Do you want to talk?" she offered.

"No."

"Do you want to stay?"

He thought about it for a moment. He didn't have his bike, and he didn't really feel like running home. "Yeah, it's late."

"You don't say," she offered a small smile, picking up the towel and dropping it into his lap. "Go shower and dry off. You're getting my bed wet. And you smell like a locker room." She gave him a gentle shove to his feet then.

He took his time on the shower, both cooling off and working through everything on his head. Did he really need the pain to be great at his job? Was he really so far off base that she didn't trust his ability anymore?

She was half asleep when he came out of her bathroom with a towel around his waist. "You've got some clothes in the top drawer," she murmured. "I washed the ones you left here, " she added, seemingly answering his question before he could even ask it.

He simply nodded and pulled them on, leaving his wet towel on the floor.

"If you want to get in this bed, the towel goes back in the bathroom." She didn't even have to open her eyes to see the towel on the floor.

He just looked at her for a moment before picking it up and tossing it toward the bathroom.

"In the hamper, House," she murmured.

Once again he just stared at her a moment. How the hell did she know without even opening her eyes? "The force is strong with you," he murmured, going to put the towel in the hamper so she would let him in bed.

#house #house md #house m.d.#huddy #house x cuddy #greg house #gregory house #lisa cuddy #house fanfic

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