Hello my Huddies!
Who is psyched for premiere week! I know I am! Sadly, the music department at my school CONVENIENTLY scheduled a meeting at 8pm on Monday...and I can't get out of it...I am so pissed off it's not even funny. But, I have a DVR. All is good. I'll see my Huddy sex. Patience is key! I will refuse to look at text messages or anything on Facebook until I see it. Then, I explode with joy :D
Here is yet another random fic that my mind has convinced myself to write. And OMG, it's actually not rated M. Need I say more? It's a sad fic...well, for most of this first part. Also: I know Cameron is not on the show, but there's this part of me that still believes she is going to come back. I do believe she's going to come back. Ah whatever. We'll see. Um, normally I would say enjoy, but...I don't know. Maybe at the end you'll enjoy it.
WARNING: Fiction may provoke certain emotional feelings due to extreme sadness. Read at your own risk.
Dr. Gregory House slowly drove through the gates of Cherry Grove Memorial Park, the all too familiar meandering roads spread out in front of him like a canvas. He veered to the left, knowing the correct navigation of twists and turns by heart. It was the third time this week he came to this place, which wasn't unusual.
He mused over the events from the last few months, how much different life was now since the incident. He was grateful that the damn bastard behind it all was caught and is forever rotting away in a cell (the one time he wished New Jersey hadn't decided to repeal the death penalty). He remembered that day, as much as he tried to forget it. It's all that he tried to do anymore...forget. That, and use his medical cases to try and distract himself from the blunt of it. But those just barely took the edge off. The only way, he reasoned, to deal with your problems was to shove them in your face until you finally get yourself to fix them. And that's what he did, a few times a week, sometimes every day.
But more importantly, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to that horrible day.
[H] [H] [H] [H]
Dr. James Wilson winced as he heard the door to his office thud closed as an all too familiar 3 tap cadence got nearer. He sighed, dropping his pen.
"Has knocking ever struck up a thought in your mind?" he mumbled into the chart he was in the middle of.
"Knocking is overrated." House shrugged.
"What do you want?" Wilson finally looked up.
"Where's Cuddy?" he brought his cane between his legs and placed one hand on it, followed by the other.
"I would assume she'd be in her office...are you finally going to admit your feelings to her and live happily ever after?" he smirked.
"Something like that, followed by some hard wood." he returned the grin.
Wilson's face twisted in disgust. "Too much information."
"In your mind. In mine, it's not enough."
He sighed. "House, you have to let her know how you feel about her. For all you know one of you could not be here tomorrow. How would you feel if one of you died and you never got the chance to tell her that you loved her?"
House pondered Wilson's thought. He was right. He'd never live it down if he never got a chance to tell her that he loved her. He turned around and left without another word. Wilson had a small grin on his face.
He punched the down button on the elevator and impatiently waited for the thing to reach his floor. It finally did, and he ran in and hit the button for the lobby. He was finally going to do it, after all these years of playing games and flirting. His adrenaline was so high that if it was visible, you could see it radiating from him.
However, when the machine finally lurched to a halt and the doors opened to reveal the lobby, he was faced with a sight he would never had expected.
Nurses and other hospital staff were running around screaming, papers fluttering all over the place, police officers trying to calm everyone down. House hobbled out as fast as he could.
"What the hell happened?" he shouted to nobody in particular.
Nurse Brenda came running over, her lip quivering.
"Dr. Cuddy has been shot! Some madman came into the Clinic with a gun and just started shooting!" she sobbed, the flood dam breaking loose. "The police caught him, and he's in custody, so the rest of the hospital is safe...but he did his damage..."
"Where is she?" he demanded.
"They carted her off to the ER..." she ran away and fell into the arms of another nurse and they sobbed.
House ran back to the elevators. When one didn't open right away, he cursed it and bee lined towards the stairs, not caring about his leg at the moment. He limped up and down various stairwells and through halls until he finally arrived at the ER.
He hobbled in as fast as he could, and saw tons of ER nurses, along with Cameron, running around frantically, tending to the Clinic shooting victims.
"Cameron! Where's Cuddy?" he shouted after her.
She stopped dead in her tracks, hesitating to turn around.
"Cameron!" he screamed, and moved towards her. She finally turned around, extremely reluctant to do so. Tears were pouring down her face, and her eyes were red and puffy.
"Answer me!" he yelled.
Cameron's chin wobbled, and she sniffed, squeezing her eyes closed, a tear sliding over her cheek. The words she spoke would be the three words he would never forget.
"In the morgue."
House's jaw dropped, and his heart plummeted. Cameron lost it in the middle of the PPTH Emergency Room. She ran into his arms and sobbed, her body shaking. House squeezed her tightly, rubbing her back. His breaths were ragged and rough, his heart feeling like somebody stabbed him in the chest.
"No...she couldn't have-"
"It was a chest shot...a through and through. There was nothing we could do to stop the bleeding by the time they got her up here." she sobbed into his shoulder.
"C-come with me to see her." his voice cracked as he whispered in her ear.
She slowly pulled back and dragged her sleeve across her face. "I don't know if I can."
"I'm not going alone." he looked her in the eye.
"If I break down...it's your shoulder I'll be crying on."
This time, they waited for the elevator. House pulled out his phone and punched in Wilson's number.
"What now House?" Wilson mumbled. Apparently, news of the shooting didn't reach him yet.
"There was a shooting in the Clinic..." he said. Wilson immediately noticed the distress and sadness in his voice.
"What?" he exclaimed, running out of his office.
"Apparently some idiot with a gun walked in and just started blasting off shots. There's a boat load of people in the ER."
Something dawned on Wilson. "Where's Cuddy?"
House gulped. He couldn't bear to say the words.
Silence.
"House!" Wilson cried.
"The morgue." House's strangled voice creaked through the phone.
Wilson stopped. "Wait, you mean she-"
"Yes. She's d-gone." he whispered, trying to hold back his emotions.
"Oh God." Wilson's voice was stressed and cracking.
"I'm headed down there now with Cameron. Get your ass down here."
House hit end on the phone and slid it into his pocket. Cameron was wrapped around him, sniffling gently. He couldn't honestly care less.
The elevator opened in the basement, where the morgue was. They stepped out into the steel cold emptiness. He felt so vulnerable, and so alone.
"Wilson's coming." he told Cameron softly. "I'm not going in without him."
They leaned against a pale greay wall, until finally the elevator dinged. Wilson was there, along with the rest of House's team that he somehow acquired in 3 minutes.
Cameron ran into Chase's arms and began to sob again. Thirteen was holding Foreman's hand. Taub was just standing there twiddling his thumbs, staring at the ground. Wilson walked over to House, his eyes filled with sadness, and put his hand on his back.
They all emerged and stood outside the entrance before House finally pushed open the door and they filed in. There were four slabs clumsily laid out, as if they were just shoved in there, each one vacated by a human figure protruding beneath a white sheet, feet hanging out the ends.
House studied each one, trying to pinpoint Cuddy's exact location without disturbing the other corpses. There was a small body on the end, the figure all too familiar, the feet painted with a deep red polish. He pulled Wilson with him towards it, and brushed his hand over the sheet in a comforting manner. He took a deep breath and pulled back the top slightly. Raven curls. Thirteen gasped and started to hysterically sob into Foreman's chest. Cameron started up again too, and Wilson silently shed tears. House choked back a strangled groan as he slid the sheet further down the body, revealing her face. He stopped at her chest, realizing she had no clothing on except this sheet. He smiled for a second. She would want to retain her modesty, regardless if she was alive or not. Wilson brought his hand to his face and turned away. House stroked from her forehead back to her hair, tears now finally rolling down his stubbly face. She was pale, her lips were grey. Her eyes were closed. She looked...peaceful, and stress free. Happy.
He bent down slowly, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, lingering as he moved his mouth to her ear.
"I love you." he whispered, his voice cracking from the emotion he was desperately trying to hold back. "I always have. Please watch over me, wherever you are. I love you. I love you. Please forgive me."
He pulled back, a tear dripping off of his nose and onto her face so that it looked like she was crying. He decided to leave it, so he would be part of her forever. He kissed her one last time before pulling the sheet over her head.
The whole team was crying, chokes, sniffles and sobs filling the cold empty room. House brought Wilson into a man-hug, and they cried together.
"Taub, get over here." Wilson choked, and he joined in the hug. They all stood crying until finally House spoke.
"We should get out of here." he brushed his cheek.
They all unanimously agreed, and they slowly made their way back into the elevator, glancing back one last time, silently acknowledging their beloved boss, who worked so hard to get to where she was, only to have it all taken away in a matter of seconds.
[H] [H] [H] [H]
House brushed away a stray tear as he slowed up, stopping by the area her grave was. He pulled himself out of his car, gripping a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of scotch with 2 shot glasses and his acoustic guitar, hanging from the strap on his neck. He hobbled onto the grass and went back about 15 feet before he found it. He plopped down next to it, stroking over her carved name on the stone.
"Hey Cuddles." he began. "I brought you flowers...lilies...your favorite." He placed them into the little flower hole in the corner of the stone.
"I miss you. The hospital isn't the same. This new guy won't let the lab technicians drink coffee in the lab like you let them do all the time." he chuckled.
"Come to think of it, there were these two new nurses that were going at it in the hall, arguing over some patient they were supposed to be tending to. One was a male nurse, the other female. The woman was hot, (not hotter than you, of course) and the man had a limp, from a femur fracture...one day he asked what was wrong with me and I told him in exchange for what was wrong with him. His name is Jared. And the girl, her name is Kate. They remind me of us, how we used to argue over absolutely everything, down to the point when it became almost erotic..." he rolled his eyes. "I can see you giving me that look. Get in the spirit, will you?"
He sat in silence, as if expecting a response. He popped open the bottle of scotch and poured it into each of the shot glasses, placing the second one on her headstone (the kind that lay flat, built into the ground).
"Here's to us, Lisa. To everything we've been through together, good or bad, for richer or for poorer, through sickness or in health, till death did us part. Well sort of, I'm here talking to you aren't I?
He clinked their glasses, and downed his shot. He raised the other one towards the heavens for a few seconds, as if waiting for her to chug it, before pouring it into the grass just south of the stone. He capped the liquor. He had to drive out of here, you know.
House then got himself into a comfortable position with his guitar, strumming a few experimental notes before beginning an actual song. He began to play and softly sing Danny Boy. It was one of their favorite songs, one that brought her to tears and made him get lost in the music. He played it for her since her passing once or twice a week.
Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone and all the flowers are dying,
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;
Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so.
And if ye come, and all the flowers are dying,
If I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying,
Ye'll kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me;
And all my grace will warmer, sweeter be,
For ye shall bend and whisper that you love me;
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
House let a few tears shed as he sang out, full of emotion. He placed the guitar on the grass, a breeze lightly swaying the trees. He did his best to kneel before the headstone, and prayed silently. Yes, pray. Ever since she died, he prayed a lot more. Every time he came, he knelt and said a prayer. He ended with a strangled "Amen".
He then bent down so that his face was up against her carved name. He closed his eyes and felt it, as if he could feel her. He squeezed his eyes shut, a tear rolling down his cheek, falling onto the stone. He remembered back to the funeral briefly. When it was his turn to walk up to the casket, he placed a photo of the two of them beneath her folded hands. It was from when they were together in college. They were kissing beneath a tree, smiling, their initials in the bark clearly visible. LC3GH FOREVER.
He smiled a watery smile and kissed the cold stone. "I love you." he whispered. "I miss you, but I know you're in a better place. Well, at least until I get there. Then the party's over."
He kissed the stone one last time. "I love you. I wish you hadn't gone."
He sat back. Suddenly, everything was turning white. He couldn't see anything, and he began to freak out. Everything was spinning-
House shot up in bed, breathing heavily, shaking with fear. His heart was pounding in his chest, a film of sweat covering his body. He felt awful.
Once his brain caught up with the rest of himself, he realized it was only a dream. Ha ha. It was a dream. A dream. A damn sad, scary one at that.
He lay back with a relieved sigh, silently thanking the world. He sat up and dragged himself from bed, hobbling into the kitchen for a glass of water to calm his nerves. He plopped into a chair and chugged it with a sigh.
Then something hit him. Hard. It was a spontaneous thought. He had to go find Cuddy. Now. His dream had triggered something deep in his mind that told him to go to her and let it all out, because something could happen where he would never get a chance to tell her how he really felt.
House shot up and hobbled to the door, slightly grinning as another thought came into his mind. Even in his subconscious, Wilson was always right. He caught a glimpse of the time on his way out.
It was 3:07 in the morning. And he couldn't care less. All he cared about was getting over to Cuddy's and confessing his love for her.
I know, I know. I'm a cunning, evil woman. Don't shoot me! I'm not going to lie to you, there were parts during this that I actually cried while I was writing it. At one point I had to get up and find a box of tissues because I was absolutely sobbing. So don't feel bad if you sobbed, because I did too. And then I proofread it and decided to play Danny Boy at the part where it's written and I completely lost it again. So here's the scoop: this story is probably going to be a few chapters. I promise there will be no other character death besides what happened here, because I wouldn't forgive myself if I went through this again. So yeah. Also, please read my other stories! The lack of reviews has me going insane, because I see other people's stories with hundreds of them. They are all rated M only because I can't control myself from writing smut...which I have successfully done with this one...and some occasional profanity. So far. LOL. So please comment and read!