I don't own House M.D. nor the characters. Song fic: I don't own "Told You So" by the Barenaked Ladies either. Basically, I just needed to write a few days ago and this popped out of nowhere. It's a oneshot. Enjoy!
I never jumped in and rescued you, but I wanted to
I didn't tell you which way to go, 'cause I thought you'd know
"You going to come in?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
She steps out into the chilly air and wraps her sweater around herself. He steps away and she almost thinks he's going to leave. But, he doesn't. He stays.
"Here."
He doesn't look at her, but extends the orange pill bottle to her. Carefully, she takes it and feels the pills rattle inside. She looks to him, concerned.
"What am I suppose to do with this?"
"I don't want it."
"You need it."
"I don't need anything."
She takes his hand, but he still won't look at her. She forces the bottle back into his palm and he encloses his fingers around it.
"I know why you feel... I just... I know. But, you can't go cold turkey."
"It's cold turkey or nothing."
"House-"
"No."
"Greg..."
"Okay. Now, I know where I stand."
She watches him as he struggles down her sidewalk with his cane. He hadn't taken his pills in eight hours. Somehow, he thought he could do without. He was wrong and she was right.
I never thought that it could be
painless, but it is I guess
I had myself fooled into needing you,
did I fool you too?
"You're a hypocrite!"
He paces across her office in clear outrage. She stands behind her desk, her eyes following his every step. She doesn't dare move toward him just in case he feels particularly violent and wields his cane as a weapon.
"House, calm down."
"You tell me I need the drugs and then tell me to get help for drug addiction!"
"I know, but cold turkey is not-"
Her heart beats rapidly in her chest. He's scaring her and for the most part, he's doing it on purpose.
"What about my pain, Cuddy?"
"There are other ways to manage pain, House. We've gone over this so many times that I-"
"And you get Wilson on my case."
"We're worried about you."
If only she knew of a way to calm him, to stop his raving. His sweat dampens the collar of his shirt. He's certain this isn't going as well as he thought it would.
"What's next? An intervention? Gonna sit me down and talk at me?"
"House, you're overreact-"
"Well, maybe if I had some Vicodin-"
"This is why it's a problem."
"I thought I could trust you. After all... after everything, Cuddy, I thought if there was one person who had my back, one person-"
"House, I've covered for you time and time again. Don't try to guilt me into taking the blame for all your problems."
She's outraged now and places her hands on her hips, hoping he gets the message that this conversation has gone over the line. He notices, of course, because he notices every little tick she displays. However, he doesn't stop himself.
"That's Lisa Cuddy, all right. Out to save her own ass. You defend me to defend yourself."
"That's not true."
"You hired me and you have to make excuses as to why you still keep me around. That's the only reason you ever defended me! You have to save yourself."
"Dammit, House! Can't you see that I care about you? That Wilson cares about you? Why do you have to do everything alone?!"
"Because I am alone."
He exits as fast as he can manage, slamming the door behind him. She knows she's not going to cry as she sits down in her office chair. She realizes that reasoning with him when he's going through withdrawal is completely and utterly fruitless. She realizes the mess and has accepted it, which keeps her from shedding any tears.
I never mentioned how I've prayed
for you, and now I've paid for you
I never said that I would wait
for you, it's too late for you
"Good morning."
"Back on your Vicodin?"
He pauses and tightens his grip on the strap of the backpack thrown over his shoulder. She waits for his response, not bothering to look up from the chart in front of her.
"Yes."
"Good."
She snaps the chart closed and moves around him, heading for the clinic. He stares after her, wondering if he should follow. However, the previous night invades his mind and he decides it would be best if he just went on with his work.
He finds himself watching her at the end of the day. After avoiding her as much as possible, he now stands a few feet from her outer office and he's watching a man help her with her coat. Emotion kicking in, he enters the outer office and strolls right into her office.
"I need to talk to you."
She freezes and her smile fades instantly. The man looks to House as well, but his smile remains. She clenches her jaw.
"Is it important?"
"Very."
She turns to the man, her date, and gives him a smile. "It'll just be a minute."
"Sure," the man replies and lets himself out of the office.
She faces him, the smile gone. "Somebody better be near death."
"Nope."
"Then, what-"
"You're actually going out with that guy?"
He's waiting expectantly for an answer, but she simply stares. With a shake of her head, she moves past him toward the door. He frowns.
"What? Bitch got your tongue?"
Her hand on the cold handle to the door, she hesitates. She turns to him and locks her eyes with his.
"Stop."
With that, she opens the office door and joins the man waiting patiently just outside. House remains alone in her office, wondering if there was something else he could have done.
Have to let it go, it's time to
let it go
Now I can't believe it took so long to leave
Perhaps
one day I'll grieve or I never will
"How was your date?"
"You were trailing me all afternoon. I was wondering when you were going to show your face."
She enters her office and he follows her through. It's strange to him that two days ago, they were screaming at each other in this very space. He keeps wishing he could forget it.
"Are you going to answer my question?"
"I would if it was any of your business."
"That bad?"
He seats himself in his usual place across from her desk. She hasn't yet seated herself and she's not quite sure she wants to. She's been feeling strange lately and blames it on the heated emotions that took place two days ago.
"Have you done your clinic hours?"
"I think we both know the answer to that."
"Then, go get it done."
"Cuddy, I-"
"Now."
Her eyes pierce him and he realizes she's not playing today. He forces himself from the chair and exits her office. She knows that he isn't going to follow her command, but she's simply relieved that he's out of her office.
As she finally allows herself to sit, she realizes there is a piece of her that's missing somewhere. A piece that vanished throughout the whole ordeal that started with him. Something she isn't sure will return. However, she thinks that it may be better that way.
