From a Whisper to a Scream
"…walking around, looking around like a figment of somebody else's imagination…taking every word she says just like an invitation."
--Elvis Costello, From a Whisper to a Scream
By: Ophelia Forbes
Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.
Summary: He prayed for death just as his body hit the ground, somewhere next to her, and the world went forever black and he heard nothing more. It was just him and the world that was covered in black.
Spoilers: Laced with slight spoilers.
Author's Note: Another one one-shot. (OT3)
-o0o0o0o-
He doesn't know why he's standing there, but he could see her, talking to the receptionist as if it was a normal day, as if nothing happened, as if everything was normal…as if she didn't spend the morning giving in, after all these years.
As if she didn't kiss him goodbye, as he lay in his sheets, promising they would talk later.
He looked forward to later then, believing she was telling the truth, believing her promise. For once, he was okay with talking, he would let her talk all she wanted…as long as they came back together tonight, get the same sheets tangled, maybe order some Chinese or harass Wilson into cooking.
So he came to her, as soon as he came in which was…sometime around the afternoon only to find she wasn't really up to talking—for once in her life.
He decided to talk first.
She wouldn't listen, she was ten million miles deep down in denial and after making him swallow the 'me, boss—you, employee' speech then proceeded to ignore him, so he decided he really didn't like being ignored. He would make her listen.
Along with the rest of the hospital.
He was clean, he wasn't high and he knew what he wanted for sure.
Somehow, he needed and wanted her to see that.
Taking a deep breath, he stood, bracing his hand against the rail, feeling the cold seep into his skin, but he hardly noticed it. He raised his cane, high above the cold railing then slammed it down loudly: once, twice, three times for good measure and it echoed throughout the noisy hospital and everyone looked up like a group of spectators in a courtroom, erect and ready to listen to the judge as his gravel called for attention.
He took a breath and let it out with, "I slept with Lisa Cuddy."
And he watched her, excited, as she spun around to face him, her face a mask of shock and something he couldn't define…
"I think that's what they call the 'deer caught in the headlights' look," a voice mused beside him and he froze, eyes wide. He tried to move, to see who had spoken, so close to him, but found he couldn't. "Yeah, that's the look right there on your face!"
A giggle escaped her lips and he felt his blood run cold.
"Missed me?"
There it was again, the taunting whisper, the voice closer now.
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling dry.
She began to hum, a familiar tune he had been trying hard to get out of his mind since he heard it from her. He remembered it replaying hauntingly in his mind as Wilson drove him back to his place after picking him up from the diner. It was an old song, a song even he had almost forgotten about and hearing her sing it like that, changing the tunes like that, changing the melody to make it sound so…bone-chilling.
He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end he gripped the railing tighter.
"Enjoy yourself…" she sang. "It's later than you think. Enjoy yourself while you're still…" she giggled again. "In the pink…the years go by as quickly as a wink…Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it's—"
He felt someone grab his arm and he gasped, dropping his cane and spinning around so fast and grabbed blindly on to her and held on tight, pulling her towards him with a snarl and lifted her, throwing her over the railing with a triumphant growl.
He heard someone scream, vaguely, but all he could hear was his dangerously raging heartbeat and his breathing, trying to calm himself down as his body reacted to something so irrational. He tried to straighten his thoughts quickly. He needed to get himself together. He wasn't supposed to loose control like this.
How would it look for him thrashing around like that with nobody there?
She was nothing, a figment of his imagination…
Then a horrifying thought occurred to him, an epiphany flashing through his mind faster than the speed of light—she was his delusion, a hallucination…how could he have touched her so physically…?
And then he saw.
A body—soft and hard, fully physical, smaller than his, but strong—a flash of maroon-red-or-brown then black then…he froze.
Oh god.
There was still screaming and he rushed, as fast as he could and grabbed in mid-air, desperate and hoping to God for a miracle.
His hand clamped tightly to something thin, hard and round and warm—a wrist? And he almost sighed, breathing heavily but then he still heard the screaming because suddenly, he too was falling.
He felt his feet leave the ground and his body go over the cold rails…he lost his grip on the railing long ago, but didn't let go of that wrist—or whatever he had hung on to.
He held on.
Oh, god.
His hand slipped and he held on to nothing but air, his fingers clawing.
He felt his heart hammer and he opened his eyes wide, if only to confirm what his mind was screaming at him and he saw it just in time it happened.
Her body collided against the ground, back first and then the rest followed until she folded to her side, knees both bent slightly, arms sprawled as she lay on her left side, her face covered by her raven black hair—hair he had run his fingers through once twenty years ago and a few more times this morning—hiding that beautiful face.
That beautiful face that actually smiled at him that morning, next to him in his bed, wrapped around him like a warm hug…
He felt his body freeze as he followed, asking God to end this now.
It was over for him.
There was still screaming and he closed his eyes.
Vaguely, in the last half-second, he heard a giggle and a playful, "Oops, you missed…"
He prayed for death just as his body hit the ground, somewhere next to her, and the world went forever black and he heard nothing more. It was just him and the world that was covered in black.
And he hoped it would stay that way.
-o0o-
He was just getting off the elevators as he saw him, standing by the railing, hammering at it, commanding everyone's attention. He let out a frustrated sigh, handing his patient file to the nurse next to him, speeding off instructions as he made his way over, all thoughts of cancer and treatments now far from his mind.
"I slept with Lisa Cuddy."
And he had to laugh as he hurried his steps, if only to see the said name's face after the declaration—it had to be worth seeing. This was his friend's way of wooing. However unconventional and unique, it was his style and the woman declared was nothing, if not fitted well for unconventional and unique since it was obvious she shared the quirky man's affections.
They deserved it each other.
And it was going to be fun to watch.
Then he realized it was a few seconds after a declaration now and he knew the look on her face, however priceless, was probably gone now. He slowed, defeated and decided a lecture was as good as he would be getting—or giving—now. Why couldn't he have gotten up sooner?
He watched his friend, still standing there, rigidly, and for a moment, he wondered if something had gone wrong.
An image of her pulling out a big cannon from her office, aiming it up at him, ready to aim and fire, appeared in his head and he chuckled to himself, thinking how comical and fitting it was for the…couple? Yes, that sounded okay: couple.
They'd slept together, that he knew after being told this morning—giving him shock as his first meal of the day. He was happy since he thought it was about damned time someone ruffled both their sheets.
Boyfriends online were fine, but he knew there was no way someone other than her was touching her sheets—her faithful suitor and new bedmate made sure no one else would all these years. And paid prostitutes and five dollar lap-dancers never made it to the bedroom so the sheets were too far to ruffle…so it fit.
They ruffled his sheets and he made a point to ask if the new couple were planning to ruffle her sheets tonight.
Of course, he would risk being called a pervert by his boss and possibly get fired, but he would play out the fact that he had been nothing but supportive in this union and he was just playing the…er, Chief of Staff to their relationship, making sure things were in place, things were going smoothly since now they were going to be the most important couple of the hospital—more important the President of the United State's union with his First Lady. People could care less about them—this couple was ten years in the making, giving them the longest running bet in the hospital's history.
He always did suck with actual politics.
Old Smith had died, his name was still in the pot—it was going to his successor, Thompson who also had a two-hundred buy for the winning side. Thompson was cashing in big once the story was out and the bet was gone and done.
He chuckled and barely noticed the intercepting little thunder cutting in from the side, from the staircase, and rushing in to his friend. He was a few feet away, but he heard her heels and her screech clear enough, "House!"
He smiled, giddy over the fireworks about to be displayed.
But then he saw it happen.
One sharp turn by him, limp and all, taking her by surprise—him dropping his cane—and grabbing her by her arms and suddenly—
Oh, god…
He flung her body over the railing.
Someone screamed, he wasn't sure who and he didn't care and he broke into a desperate run, "House! No!"
He wasn't sure if he screamed, by then he wasn't aware of anything other than the fact that she was falling.
Vaguely, he noticed him unfreeze by the railing then suddenly grab on to her, his large hand clamping around her wrist and someone screamed again.
It could have been her.
"House!" he was desperate, willing him to hold on, willing him to wait for him to get there so they could pull her in…
Then it happened.
Someone screamed again and again and again.
His saw his feet lift and fold forward. The screaming continued—female—and he saw his body flip over the railing…
She was taking him down with her.
Someone screamed.
It could have been her.
And in a split second…
Oh, GOD.
They were both gone.
He reached the railing and saw his body crumpled up, bad leg bent at the knee, good one straight and she lay next to him a two feet away on her side, back to him, her face covered by her hair and none of them moved. A crowd was gathering already, someone was issuing orders. Feet thundered as people scattered in different directions.
Someone screamed.
-o0o0o0o0o-
Tell me you understood this okay.
I am begging you.
It's a bit messy and definitely impossible…but I was listening to Amber's singing on YouTube again and this came up...
Anyway, update on HtOHL will come ASAP, as always of course, and my brain came up with this just now. Is it too depressing? Bah.
Though on a happier note:
To mine and everyone else's mothers and to all the mothers in the whole world:
Happy Mother's Day!
It's 7:15 now and officially Mother's day today. Kiss your mom, prepare a meal, clean your room, wash your own clothes, feed the dog, move the world—whatever—just make that bestest woman feel special for everything she's done and will continue to do for you. I love my mom, she's awesome and she's the best.
And for those who, I'm sorry to say, have lost that special someone, my heart goes to you. Remember her, light a candle or just remember—it's a special day, I hope you feel better. Keep the memories, keep them close…I can only hope they bring you comfort and make you smile, even just a little.
For those who are angry at their mothers—give her a break! She went into labor for you! Or if she didn't and you are adopted—think of the bazillion other kids she could have gotten instead of you or all those things she went through to get you—kiss her, make up and stop being so stubborn! Be happy, make her happy! One day won't kill you. At least later she can look back on one pleasant day with you...maybe on a very bad day, when she's about to kick you out, she'll remember and decide not to. Who knows? Kidding, of course.
To those who, sadly and again, I am sorry to say, have no mothers…I don't have the right words and I am afraid I never will, but I hope you're happy anyway and will be happy for a long, long, long time…there are others still who love you, if you don't have a mom, treasure them instead. Having someone who love you may not be enough or a replacement, but it's still something to be thankful for, to have someone…I wish you happiness.
I wish everyone happiness and a GREAT day. I'm off to prepare for a day full of mothers since they will be invading our house in…a few hours.
With much love,
xoxOphelia
From a Whisper to a Scream by Elvis Costello