I thought about this as I was having a bath. Basically, if I was a writer on House, I would have this as one of the last scenes of the show. Still, I don't think there's any danger of that happening, so I thought I post it on here.
Hey, bookworm kiwi - I finally had the courage to do it!!!
Hope you all like it.
Her eyes. Those beautiful, vivid blue eyes that made your stomach drop. House focused on them. Forced himself to. Even though their intensity spoke of things that she wouldn't want him to know about. In her last moments, they spoke of her first day at school, her first boyfriend, her first period, the night she lost her virginity. They screamed, whispered, cried these things. Seductively, angrily, terrified, the constant stream of memories was uttered by those two now haunting eyes, and he forced himself to look back. He did not see the rest of her body. He forgot about the butt he had so often leered at. For once his analytical mind did not take notes on her symptoms or recognise the effects of the illness. In his mind, the stench of blood and death and vomit was replaced by the scent of her hair one summer at college. The one when she got drunk at one party and flashed her boobs at an attractive lecturer. He ignored Cameron's rustlings and watched as Cuddy lay dying.
"Well," she murmured, "Nothing we can do?"
House regretted medical school now. He would have traded anything not to know what was happening. But it was always the way. The intelligence that was such a blessing to his patients was his curse.
"No. Whatever you have, you're about to slip into unconsciousness that you won't wake up from."
His blunt honesty at inappropriate times was a similar curse.
Cuddy nodded. He knew that she wanted to seem calm and serene, but he couldn't ignore the terror in her eyes. How could he fail to recognise anything about her? They were Cuddy and House. Love and hate mixed together in such a tight bundle that had everyone who saw them together utterly mystified. He knew her inside and out, and yes, he loved her. What happened to delighting in banter for another couple of years, and then inevitably admitting his feelings in hilarious but heart warming circumstances, only to have her turn him down for Wilson or some one?
He cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat.
"I suppose I should say-"
She cut him off by slipping her hand into his.
"Humour me, House."
And without the words passing her lips, House understood. Every time she had casually brushed against him. Every time she looked at him with that look of sad concern in her eyes. She was in love with him too. He couldn't help but wish that they had communicated better.
"I love you." It was ecstasy wrapping his tongue around the words. It was almost as if the whole point of his existence was to say them here and now. He couldn't hep but allow him a small smile, and she smiled weakly back, but her eyes were rapidly dimming. He could no longer hold her gaze, and instead turned to the window as he spoke again.
"And I suppose it would only be fair to tell you that I wasn't humouring you."
He looked back at her, but her eyes were already shut. He gasped aloud. It was so unfair, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had lost her.
Desperately he turned to Cameron.
"Did she hear me?" He asked roughly.
Thick tears were streaming from Cameron's eyes.
"I…I don't know."
Reviews make me uber happy.