Disclaimer the First: I do not own the mentioned characters and claim no rights to anything mentioned below except the order in which I put the words.
Disclaimer the Second: I haven't read a House fic since the last episode. I'm sure this has been done before but this is original and mine. No duplication is intended, just inevitable.
Disclaimer the Third: My first fanfic.
HMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMDHMD
The number of times I should have died is a bit staggering, even to me. Before the infarct - that pathetic story we all unfortunately know too well - there were just a few: car crashes mostly, with a vengeful ex-lover or two for variety.
Since then, the gunshots, Ketamine, a few more vehicle crashes; any of those should have done me in, let alone when I got angry enough to try overdosing or desperate enough to try experimental brain treatments. By the time curiosity overtook me and I stabbed that knife into the socket, I was wondering how many lives I could possibly have left.
In the end, death didn't come after me at all; it came after Wilson. All I had to do was hold out as long as he did. But this time, I fucked up. So there was another death to court, this time by fire. Not long now, there will be just one more.
Life is a suicide mission, after all. Besides, I'm already dead.