A/N: Written over the course of a day while at work...not working. I suppose you could say there are spoilers for S4, but minor ones.
Dedicated to Blueheronz - I'd be lying if I said you didn't put this thought in my head first. It kind of jumped away from me after reading some things you've written. Thank you.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
you are my sunshine
He'd been in the supermarket late one night. (Nocturnal, at best, could be used to describe him. When his last bottle of scotch didn't dull him to sleep, he resorted to anything, including restocking the kitchen. Damn New Jersey and their no liquor after ten.) She'd been in the diaper aisle, next to the pharmacy. Closed white shutters, blue letters telling him 'open at 9 am for your convenience' (he had one at his disposal 24 hours a day).
The tears were rolling down her gaunt cheeks, sniffles in time with the thump of his cane. The yellowish tinge of her hands, the swollen eyes and limp red hair bothered him for the single glance he took (no one he knew). He moved on, his basket swinging him to the chip aisle and his favorite Tostitos.
my only sunshine
He'd found her in the ER one night, an empty trauma room with the curtain shut and lights out (it was after midnight, he'd been battling for his patient and his tennis ball had enough pounding). He'd stood in the hall, then finally pushed the curtain aside with his cane.
"Is sleep a foreign concept for you?" Her groggy voice spoke to the wall. They always knew when the other was around. He'd heard her say to Chase once that it was a sixth sense that developed over three years and couldn't shake.
(He'd akin it to caffeine in his head.)
It would be three more weeks he'd find her in various rooms in the hospital (his patients kept coming and going, puzzles needed to be put together, and she only went from the first floor to the third, the fourth on a bad night). He'd figured out the fifth night she was hiding (from him, but not him) and the sixth she found him first.
"Kutner said your patient died this afternoon." They watched channel 4 ("all tree, all the time") and her eyes closed twenty minutes in, leaving his commentary to the cold machines that measured mortality.
Two nights later found her at his door – "you have cable" – and the next morning, his bed.
you make me happy when skies are grey
Lights stayed off for a week until he finally remembered to use them again. She preferred the dark.
He passed her in the cafeteria two Tuesdays later. He wanted to point out that she looked pale. Taub interrupted him.
He received inter-office mail from the ER later that week (usually she brought the charts herself). It was a fresh envelope, himself being the first recipient, and enclosed was a single sheet of paper.
(She had to have done it herself, it would explain why he saw her in the lab.) He didn't know how he felt about what he was reading.
you'll never know, dear
It was almost two weeks before he had a chance to track her down, but an intern informed him she hadn't come in (through her tears). He scoffed at her (blubbering) and turned to hide, but Cuddy dragged him back to the clinic.
how much I love you
The seal had just been broken on the bottle of Glendronach when he heard a tentative knock on the door. He left his cane next to the piano and used the wall for support (it wouldn't be enough to hold him after her).
Her expression cut him like glass and he wanted to throw something back at her for (breaking his heart) not being where she was supposed to be that day. She cut off his words with a hard shake of her head, and he remembered that woman in the grocery store (now backwards).
It was just his scotch, his cane, his piano (his broken, never fully-formed (bunch of cells) dream).
so please don't take my sunshine away
A/N 2: that song is haunting.