A/N – Not quite sure why I wrote this, it's just an idea that's been in my head, unformed, for a while, and the respiratory arrest scene in The Softer Side finally gave it some substance and so, I give you the final moments of Gregory House's life as he succumbs to methadone-induced respiratory arrest.
First Day of the Rest of Your Life
The feeling of love came to House all at once. Cameron keeping a vigil at his bedside for three days. Cuddy, asleep, holding his hand as he'd woken up from his coma. Stacy wiping the sweat from his brow with a cool rag. And Wilson. How many times had he been there, never close, never far, always on the sidelines to pick him up when he fell, always on the phone when he'd taken too much, but never too close, never close enough to scare him away.
House was sorry but he wasn't ashamed. He knew they'd all understood all along. He was finally going to knock on Cuddy's door tonight and ask her out. He was going to kiss her again and not say goodnight this time. She could cry on his shoulder until the sun came up if she wanted, and he'd be happy to hold her for as long as she wanted him to. But first, he was going to march down to her office, shut the door and tell her everything, everything he'd held inside of himself for too long. He was going to be a babbling idiot if that's what it took, but she was going to know. When he got there, he was going to tell her that he forgave her for his leg, that it wasn't her fault in the first place, it wasn't Stacy's, it wasn't even the doctors that had misdiagnosed him. It was just one of those things that happened, but unfortunately it had happened to him and he had to blame somebody, but it was all going to be over now, it would all be OK, he was going to take the methadone and of course she cared if he was happy or not, she cared about him and he knew that now. She'd never cared what "him" she got, she'd accepted him as he was all along and only wanted to see his mind and his body at peace for once. If she had her webcam on when he walked in again, he was going to tell her that Rachel is beautiful and motherhood scares everyone, if she wasn't questioning herself he'd think there was something wrong with her and would he babysit? Sure, any time. He wasn't going to complain about clinic hours anymore, patients either (well…that might be stretching it). Cuddy's job wasn't easy, and he was going to stop making it harder.
And Cameron…he was going to take her out for a proper dinner and not care why she wanted to go, if he was happy in his company, he was going to let her be and be happy in hers in return. Suddenly it didn't matter anymore that she probably loved him for what she thought she could make him into, and not for what he really was. All that mattered was that she cared for him. He wasn't going to tell her that she only liked him because she likes damaged people, what he was going to tell her instead was that he envied her. He wished he could still be innocent and naïve and trust that people are inherently good because even though she'd probably get hurt by trusting the wrong person, at least she could trust, she could let someone close to her which was more than he could, at least up until now, and he was also going to tell her that he's still too old for her and she can still do better but he really does value her and has been an idiot all this time to throw every time she's taken care of him and cared for him back in her face, and from this day on Gregory House was going to be the best friend she could ever ask for. As much as he hated to admit it, it was nice to know that someone would bring him chicken soup when he was sick, lord knows his parents had never done it, and he wanted to know what it was like. He could try to be vulnerable once in a while, if only for her sake. For as many times as he'd hurt Cameron, she was always the one making sure no one hurt him, even when he deserved it, and she'd always been there to take care of him when he'd caused his own pain. She'd been there for him unconditionally, and he was going to at least try to return the favor.
Speaking of friends…Wilson – the thought of Wilson brought tears to House's eyes. If anyone had ever loved him this entire time, loved him for everything he was and everything he wasn't, who didn't demonize him nor put him on a pedestal it was Wilson. Wilson never wanted to fix him or save him but had always been happy to do either one or both when he'd needed it most and never asked anything in return. House was going to pay him back all the money he owed, with interest and then some, take Wilson out to lunch and dinner every day for a month to pay him back for all the food he'd stolen, and he didn't know what he was going to do for all the times Wilson had saved his ass to Cuddy, but he would think of something. Hell, maybe he'd just ask Wilson what he wanted. Nothing was too great, House basically owed him his life anyway and unless he asked for that, he was willing to do pretty much anything to even the score between them. House was also going to apologize; truly and sincerely apologize. He was going to sit Wilson down over a pitcher of beer and say something like "I'm sorry I've taken you for granted all this time, all I ever thought about was what you could give to me and never understood that I had to contribute to the friendship as well. The fact that you're always there means everything to me, and I hope you can forgive me." Tears welled up in his eyes as he even thought about saying it and he knew they definitely would when he actually did say it but he wasn't afraid of that anymore either; maybe if he let some of the pain out once in a while, it wouldn't hurt so much anymore. He figured he'd start with crying, and then eventually work up to hugs.
Last but not least on House's list of things to put right was Stacy. He still loved her, always had and always would and because of that, he was going to let her go. They'd had their time together, he'd had the best five years of his life with her and when it came right down to it, could he really hate her for that? She'd given him something that no one else ever could have and even though he wished he still had it, he also knew that it could never work again for either of them, so there was no point in continuing to cause either of them pain. And he was going to forgive her too. She'd done the best she could when he'd had his infarction, and the only reason she had made the choice she made was that he was a stubborn bastard, as usual. If he had anyone to blame for his pain, it was the man who stared back at him in the mirror every morning.
Things were going to be different from now on, though. Instead of dwelling on what he couldn't be, he was going to find out what he could be. Everyone had been right, he'd been afraid of change, afraid of getting hurt, afraid of being happy for fear it wouldn't last, afraid to live. He was going running after work. He wanted the smell of sweat and taste of Spring in New Jersey. Of course it was going to hurt, but he wanted it to hurt. Some pain signified rebirth and hope rather than death and suffering and that pain, he could handle. After that he was taking Wilson out to dinner, and then, over to Cuddy's. Tomorrow, call Stacy, take Wilson out to lunch, and then Cameron to dinner. He couldn't wait. For once he'd surround himself with all the people that loved him and start loving them back.
He never heard Cuddy tell him to stop pretending to be asleep, and he never heard her scream his name. She looked frantically at Wilson. "He's not breathing. Can you get a pulse?"
"No. Call the code, get a crash cart from the nurse's station!"
He lined the paddles up to the marks still on House's chest from the last time he'd coded. "Clear!" Once. "Charging…clear!" Twice. "Charging…clear!" Three times. He collapsed to his knees as Cuddy fell with him, deep, gasping sobs cried into the collar of his shirt. He was gone, and those who knew him and loved him would have no consolation in the fact that he'd loved ever them back.