|Part 1 of House MD-Parisian Holiday-Novel in Progress
||[Aug. 4th, 2006|08:24 pm]
House FanFiction Club
Three years ago on a not so warm Spring day Dr. Gregory House was in his office as usual. Doing the usual...listening to some killer Pink Floyd. Dark Side of the Moon was playing the song 'Money' in his large headphones. The click of the change always giving him a special thrill. The playful bass apart of his heart. He was completely inundated with it, his head resting on a small square pillow on the floor, his legs crossed and resting on his office chair. Just when the song was in the middle and really piercing his soul, one of the few loves of his life-though Stacy would probably think otherwise, walked through the door.|
Stacy was there again. She had come back against all odds and for the last few weeks the flirting between them had begun again even though he had promised himself he wouldn't subject himself to any of it again. He could see out of the corner of his eyes, her eyes lacked all music, suppressed humor, or even contempt. Which even if contempt meant a fight or confrontation for them, it inevitably lead to a forced peace. That would be tolerable. This looked serious, though. He took off his phones and looked up lazily though thoughtfully at the same time.
"Oh, go back to your office Stacy." House said. Stacy glanced thoughtfully at House with her hard chin and intelligent eyes. She looked down and away. She kneeled down, took off her heels, and folded her feet beneath her.
"I mean it. Go back to your office," he commanded.
"I can't Greg," Stacy said softly.
"Well, you look capable of walking..." House said almost formally.
"I have to leave you. I wish it could be different and I know there are
a thousand things to say. But honestly, I think we have said all that needs to be said." House rolled his eyes. 'Us and Them' was playing in the phones.
"Okay, what did Cuddy tell you? I was late for clinic a few times this week and I was caught with some girlie pics." He searched for a laugh from her. She held out her hand to pause him.
"I think you'll be okay. Cameron and you, I see the way you look at her. I am glad you are capable of truly loving someone. That's good." House brought his feet off the chair and laid his legs flat on the floor and sighed. He remembered Dr. Cameron telling him the same thing when she had come back into his life. He gave Stacy a sour glance.
"Don't be so sure." He responded dryly.
"I hope you don't mean that and even if you lie to me to spare my feelings...you shouldn't lie to yourself. Wilson told me about when you hired her."
"I don't know what you are talking about." House wrangled with the wires on his headphones and slowly limped upwards to turn of his stereo. He had a mean grimace.
"Well I hope..." House scrunched his forehead.
"Stacy, what the hell is going on?"
"Someone die? A trip to Norway?"
"Mark wants to move to Seattle and I am going with him. I'm his wife and I'm happy with him." Her words were icy. House smiled as he fiddled with a Rubix cube on his desk. He was close to solving it.
"Really? You're happy? Well, great! Let's hold a big party. I'll invite all our old friends and..." She compressed her lips and rose up from the floor.
"Greg, I know this is painful for you. But I am his wife." Her eyes were pleading. House stopped playing with the cube. He had solved it. He showed it to Stacy with a shake and threw it on his desk.
"You're not happy. You feel guilty for being in love with me and being married," House said. His eyes were steel blue. The rain stained window behind him made him look like he was fresh out of the ocean. House sat down in his chair.
"But I am not unhappy either...Mark is..."
"Tell him you want to stay. Tell him Seattle weather doesn't appeal to you. Too many eccentrics, artists, weirdos and Green party types-tree huggers! Or tell him you are in love with me and want a divorce...for good." He looked at her tightly. Stacy felt like he was examining her every move. She stood on the opposite side of his desk and nodded her head painfully back and forth. She couldn't do the relationship anymore. She left him before and here she was doing it again. But this time, he had a feeling she wouldn't be coming back. House stood up and walked toward the wet window. He looked through the long vertical blinds with curious eyes. The greyness of the sky made too much sense to him.
"When?" House asked. His back was turned to her.
"Today. I am about to leave right now." He rummaged in his suit jacket for a little orange prescription bottle. He popped a white Vicodin. His addiction was his relief. It made the pain in his leg go away from his injury. That's what he told himself at least when he took more than one. But he only took one this time.
"Honestly I thought this would be easier for us..." House felt the pill struggle a bit down his throat. Gravity was trying to force the Vicodin down his throat but his neck was too tense. He relaxed himself a little but instead felt his vision swim a little.
"There is no us," he finally said, "We don't exist." He turned around to face Stacy. "You're right. It's easier this way." He limped toward her and offered his hand. "Good-bye Stacy." Stacy's face fell, her eyes started brimming with tears, and she smiled very sadly. She composed herself and shook his hand.
"Good-bye Greg." And through the doors she went, just another person, but for him another face he would have to forget.
Cuddy and Wilson watched Stacy walk to the elevator. There were tears in her eyes. When the elevator finally came, Stacy walked in and tried raising her chin a little higher, but Wilson knew it was just stubbornness. Stacy was again making the right choice for her own well being. But for House and the staff left behind…they were going to need a miracle to survive his new humor.
“Why did she wait to tell him until the last day she was here?” Cuddy asked Wilson.
“She’s smart. She didn’t want to give him the chance to change her mind.”
“How did you know?” Cuddy asked quietly. The hustle of the hospital did not break their stride as they walked toward the nurse center.
“Stacy told me first. She thought I would be the best person to offer emotional support.”
“Lucky you,” Cuddy asked.
“Yeah, Last time this happened, House wouldn’t go anywhere for months. And I don’t even want to mention his temper and tongue. Pure acid.” That’s when they both heard a loud crash coming from House’s office. It sounded like a glass pane had broken into a million pieces. Inevitably, he could diffuse his friend, but then he saw the real problem as he approached the office and Cuddy fell behind him. Dr. Cameron’s laptop and coat were in the adjoining conference room. She must have gone in when he and Cuddy weren’t watching.
“Damn,” he said to himself. “Cuddy, you might want to call security.” Cuddy nodded her head and went for a phone. He walked full throttle into House’s office. On the floor, House was out cold. Dr. Allison Cameron, with soft brown hair and a tenaciously adorable yet always serious demeanor was trying to wake House up with a few shakes to his shoulders.
“What happened?” Wilson asked.
“He had thrown his mug against his vase on the shelf. Then when I walked in he just passed out. Do you know-” There was some broken glass and a segmented mug on the other side of him. A few books had tumbled on to the floor as well. Wilson got out his stethoscope. House was breathing but it was incredibly shallow.
“I’ll explain later. He’s breathing still. Got any smelling salts?” Cameron nodded her head.
“We should let him come to on his own. This is just a reaction to stress.”
“That might be dangerous. House is on vicodin and he does drink occasionally.” Then they heard a familiar voice below them speak though a little wary.
“And I also like Carmen Electra nudie photos but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen to Dr. Cameron.” House was aware again. Wilson exhaled and shook his head. Cameron cracked a side smile. Cameron tried helping House sit up. He waved her away a bit.
“Are you alright?” Wilson asked. House looked at Cameron in derision.
“Why didn’t you catch me when I passed out? I hit my head hard on the floor,” House said to Cameron. House rubbed his head a little.
“Unbelievable,” Cameron said. “I was startled.”
“Well, you certainly scared the hell out of me, Dr.” House said. Wilson helped House get up on his feet. House looked at the mess on the floor with contempt.
“Greg, maybe you should take the rest of the day off.” Cameron looked at Wilson a bit strangely. She had never heard Wilson call House by his first name. It changed the feel of the room quickly. There was a knock on the door. Cuddy was at the door with two guards. One was a tall black man with long arms and the other was a wide and stout older white man. The men looked a little itchy for a fight. Wilson ran to the door.
“It’s okay, really. He just passed out.” Cuddy gave House a hard look through the door. She nodded to the two men and they both left with a nod. Cameron tried picking up one of the books on the floor and putting it up.
“Leave it alone.” House told her warily as he limped over to his desk. “Wilson, you called security on me. Which means you knew.”
“About what?” Cameron asked promptly.
“Cameron, go get me some strong coffee and cough syrup,” House said.
“Greg, be reasonable with yourself. Just face the pain for once in your miserable life.”
“Like you? Right?” House asked. House sat in his chair and held his head. Cameron watched on a little confused. Wilson paused and let the anger surging in him subside.
“Fine,” Wilson said, “but I am not digging you out of the hole you want to put yourself into. You want to bury yourself with self-loathing and pity. Be my guest, just don’t invite me along to watch.”
“Why haven’t you gotten the cough syrup or coffee yet? He yelled at Cameron. She took a few steps back away and looked at Wilson a little ambigiously.
“Oh Christ!” Wilson cried. “Don’t take it out on her. Leave her alone. It’s not her fault you are a miserable old oaf! Go get your own damn coffee and cough medicine.” Wilson stomped off through the glass doors angrier than Dr. Cameron had ever seen him. House smiled deeply to himself.
“Good for you Wilson. He should have done that a while ago, but one never knows when the powder keg will blow.”
“I’ll go get some coffee and cough syrup,” Dr. Cameron said quietly. House watched her begin to leave. He leaned back in his chair and grabbed his cane.
“Cameron, you really don’t have to care.” Slowly, he rose from his seat and limped toward her. “Wilson’s right. I’m a big boy. I can get what I need on my own.” She looked at him thoughtfully.
“There’s one problem,” Cameron said to his worn out face.
“Only one?” House asked stoically. Cameron smiled.
“I care,” she said with resolve.
More to come!