A/N: This is random and short. I couldn't get the image out of my head as I listened to "Earth Angel" by the Platters. Listen to it while you read this, if you have the song.
No slash intended. Please read and review. Thanks.
Earth Angel
Lights dotted the wide street, the tar gleaming with 8 o'clock rain. Strangers huddled in human puddles, mouthing expected words of sympathy, shock, and concern – regardless of the fact that no one knew who he was.
He was slumped over the wheel and the dashboard, one hand nestled against the glittering windshield, and it was hard to tell whether the beads of blood and water were on the outside or the inside. His other arm hung limp, the sleeve crinkled and fallen down instead of rolled up like its twin. His eyes were closed with some unexpected dream, and his lips were hidden in the dark, so no one could tell if he was smiling or not. The glass was splatter-cracked and waiting to crumble, the hood was wrinkled more perfectly than his shirt.
They didn't find any alcohol. Instead, they cuffed the guy who left his victorious SUV without a trace of remorse. Nobody bothered to retrieve the suitcase, the files, or the lab coat. They called a tow truck and dared not rifle through the glove compartment, where an old birthday card and divorce papers were guarded with a six-year-old picture of two smiling doctors.
None of the strangers thought of Greg House having a beer in his living room at that exact moment. And he didn't think of James Wilson beautifully ended in the wake of revolving siren lights, with "Earth Angel" playing on repeat in the car stereo.