The past week had been the hardest of Gregory House's life. He knew it was going to be difficult from the time he heard about Wilson's diagnosis, but nothing could have prepared him for the true level of emptiness he felt now. Their cross-country motorcycle trip had been some of the best times in House's life. Even though Wilson liked to use that "this is my dying wish" excuse a little too much. For the most part House was willing to go along with it, but there were two areas that he had issues with. The first was that Wilson banned Vicodin, both for the trip and afterward. House went along with it during the trip. He hit one of his lowest points before that, and his suicide debate in the burning building made him want to reassess a lot of things. He still was not up for talking about everything outright, but he was more apt to want to stay clean than he normally would. He was particularly agreeable to the rule as well because Wilson and him agreed to hit up a lot of bars as a part of the journey. He was more willing to feel things with Wilson than anyone else, but he still needed some sort of numbing agent. As the journey increased, Wilson's pain did as well, so the two participated in a lot of late night drinking sessions. At any rate, House was agreeable to Wilson's Vicodin mandates during the trip for the most part, but now things were proving a lot more difficult, especially considering Wilson's other dying wish.
It had been a week since Wilson's death and House had stayed pretty out of it for that time. He found a new hotel, somewhere he had not gone with Wilson, bought enough alcohol to serve an army, and locked himself in a room. He hired himself some female company, drank, and mostly forgot about the rest of the world. But now his alcohol was gone and he was starting to emerge from the numbness that had been his constant companion over the last week. He thought about Wilson a great deal and his future without him. As much shit as he gave Wilson, the man was the only person House could truly count on. He was the only one who truly understood House and could put up with his mistakes over and over. And God knew he'd made a lot of mistakes. He was desperately trying not to make another one now. He had already messed up the first week by himself, and he wasn't happy with himself for it. Wilson predicted this reaction from him, and had given him a direct order to carry out the second part of the plan immediately. But House just couldn't do it. This part of Wilson's demands made no sense. Why would he torture himself more than he had to and send himself into a potential relapse? Although, he was pretty close to one even without Wilson's task. He had nothing. His job was no longer there for him. He had potential criminal jail time, and nobody who cared whether he lived or died. He wanted to do better though. He vowed to himself in that burning building that he would change. He wanted to more than anything else, but he had tried every single solution out there before. Wilson's plan was just going to dig up the past and put him in the exact same position he was in a year and a half ago. He felt so incredibly lost.
Lisa Cuddy was not looking forward to going home to be a disciplinarian after work. She didn't understand what had gotten into her daughter lately. Rachel had been so good until their move a year and a half ago. Ever since then things had been rocky at best. The principle called around noon and explained that Rachel had hit another child. She insisted that Cuddy drive to the school to pick Rachel up right away. It was only after twenty minutes of begging, pleading, and finally breaking down in tears that the principle agreed to let Rachel stay for the rest of the day. Cuddy was on thin ice at her job. She had taken off a lot of time to deal with Rachel lately, and to be honest she hadn't been extremely focused before that. She missed her old life and getting adjusted to all the changes was proving more difficult than she anticipated. She had taken the downgrade from hospital administrator to doctor in charge of the diagnostics department willingly, but it felt like even that was too much.
She didn't know what else to say to her daughter that would make a difference. She felt like she had tried everything, but when she really thought about it both of them weren't happy. She thought that probably had a lot to do with Rachel's problems. And she knew she was not being the best mother possible when she felt depressed all of the time. Hearing about Wilson's death a week ago was the icing on the cake. He sent her a letter the day before detailing his final months and eventually saying goodbye. She was furious that House got to spend those final moments with Wilson and she was all the way across the country. Her rage toward House had no bounds and this just added to an already explosive pile. Her and Wilson had communicated some over his trip and his final year working at the hospital. But she felt like House and her had gotten a divorce, and Wilson chose the wrong party. Cuddy had always treated Wilson with the upmost respect, and loved him like only a long-time friend could. But still he chose the crazy man that wrecked into her house with no thought about anyone other than himself.
When Cuddy picked her daughter up from school Rachel knew she was in trouble. She walked to the car with her head down, her hair cascading over her face. Cuddy was at a loss. She was sad for Rachel, mad at her, and just wanted to have an adult conversation with her. But for all of Rachel's intelligence, she was still only a little girl and Cuddy had to remember that. When they got to the house finally, Cuddy sat her daughter down for a talk. She explained how wrong it was to hit others, but it was a conversation they had both participated in previously. For about the hundredth time that year the conversation ended in Rachel running to her room crying saying she wanted House back.
This was something Cuddy did not understand. House tried with Rachel, she would give him that. But it had been a year and a half. How could she still remember and want House when Cuddy was the one who had been with her and cared for her every single day? Nobody in this part of the country even knew House. The idea in moving was to hide from her former life. She knew it was cowardly but it was what she needed after a car came hurdling through her dining room. Rachel just kept bringing him back though. And Wilson had brought him back in his letters. She couldn't believe he had faked his death only to go on a road trip with Wilson. That was exactly the sort of immaturity she loathed in him. But somehow, he just kept popping back up. After she fed a sobbing Rachel dinner and put her to bed she couldn't get him out of her head. She tried to sip a glass of wine to dull the sharp emotions, but even that reminded her of him. What else could she do to move on? It seemed like she was trapped.
Author's note: I do not own House or any of the characters used in this fanfic. Please comment and follow.