Title: Missing
Author: Skylarcat
Classification: Huddy, Chapter Fic
Rating: PG 13
Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: House is missing and Cuddy can sense something is wrong. Will House's thoughts of Cuddy be enough to pull him through?
Note: House and Cuddy are characters that belong to David Shore, Fox Broadcasting, and Shore Z Productions and Bad Hat Harry Productions. Yes, I have used them without permission. However, no copyright infringement is intended. And I will return them intact and a lot more satisfied.
I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
'Cause no one else cared
(Linkin' Park)
The stars sprinkled the sky like golden freckles illuminating the masses and the ground in which he stood; his heart pounding, a strident tempo, like the thunder in the distance. The wind picked up its pace, wafting his hair in its grasp. The dirt and sand swirled at his feet, in the distance a few tumbleweeds scattered by like forgotten memories of a child.
He began to run then, at a feverish pace; his cane discarded with a thud upon the dirt covered ground, only a distant memory now. His legs moved gracefully, like a cheetah in pursuit of its prey. The pain of his thigh muscles faded within the stars, lost somewhere in the vastness of the sky. She was only a few paces ahead of him, yet too far to touch.
She was barefoot; her feet pounding like a hammer upon the ground. Though her back was to him, he was able to recognize her features; he would know her anywhere. Somehow her familiar pencil skirt didn't hinder her and she was able to quicken her pace. Her dark locks soaring higher with every stride.
He should be able to catch her; his legs being the longer suit, but he moved as though running through drying cement. He reached for her, but she quickly darted out of his reach. A thunder of giggles escaped from her throat as she rushed ahead.
She turned sharply, heading down a ravine, and he struggled to keep up; his legs dead weight. A few branches tore at his skin, sending trickles of blood along his fresh, but he barely noticed. She got further ahead; and he began to lose sight of her.
Don't leave me behind. Don't leave me behind. His mind announced to the night; and then she was gone from his view. He stopped running, now standing alone; his breath fleeting puffs of air. His eyes fixated on the spot on which she once stood, now empty. He closed his eyes, in the distance thunder broke.
Another boom and he jerked his eyes open with a startle, becoming alert in a matter of moments. His eyes darted franticly around, taking in sight his surroundings. His head lay across the steeling wheel of the car; the strain of the seatbelt digging into his shoulder. He quickly reached down and unbuckled it; the leather strap swung back with force and released his shoulder. He sat back against the seat, noticing the crushed metal and broken glass.
And then the pain: intense and brutal; causing him to bite down on his lip; the taste of blood and metal now residing in his mouth. He reached into his pocket somberly, pulling out his bottle of vicodin, and popping a pill into his mouth. His eyes went to the windshield, where several cracks veined out like a spider web. Outside, he noted the woods, and briefly wondered how far his car wondered down the ravine. Judging by the light of the sky, it was still early dawn. Someone would realize he was missing, or at least he hoped so. If he could manage to climb out of the car, perhaps he could make his way up the ravine and closer to the road. His chances at being found were slimmer if he remained in the car.
Turning to his side, he carefully raised his legs then with as much force as he could muster kicked at the broken glass in the driver's side window. After a few kicks, the glass shattered and broke away. He warily turned around, using his arms as leverage and propelled himself out of the vehicle, dropping hard onto the ground below. His hands instinctively went to his thigh, rubbing diligently the muscles there.
He took a breath and carefully surveyed the degree of his injuries. He concluded that he had a few broken ribs, several cuts and bruises and most likely a concussion. He tried to turn on his side, but the sudden pain that rushed up his body caused him to pause. He felt as though he was going to be sick. He shivered involuntary, becoming suddenly, desperately cold. He was going into shock.
He stared up at the sky. A few lone birds flew across the blue sea, their wings soaring gracefully. He always had envied birds; their ability to be able to fly away…to escape. To have such a wide view on the world. A memory was registering from somewhere within the folds on his mind. Another time, he stared up at the sky, then her sudden form staring down at him. Somehow, he was comforted by the mere thought of her.
"I'm always here." He heard her say.
He closed his eyes allowing his thoughts to wonder to one thing.
Cuddy.