A/N: Newly updated and revised chapter 1. I'm starting over from chapter 1. I know that isn't a big deal since I only posted to chapter 3 but just wanted to let you know. Some changes have been made. This is the story of OC Frances and Wilson. This chapter is like a flash forward, and the rest of this story will be recounting the story of how they met and how their relationship developed from there. It'll make more sense once you've read this chapter. Takes place during season 8 of House. Slightly AU because in this story Dr. Adams did not come to work for House and was instead replaced by Dr. Frances.
Please review. It means absolutely so much to me, I wake up and if I see I have a review it makes me so unbelievably happy. I want to know what you think! I'll continue faster if you guys want me to and let me know with a quick review!
Disclaimer: I do not own House, MD.
"I need oxygen!" The silence that had filled the room vanished when Erin Frances' usually deep voice, shrilly screamed. The new nurse who was on shift just stood there, unsure of what to do. Frances glared at her and the wide eyed woman looked back and forth between her and Chase and Taub.
Running over to the body that lay on the hospital bed Frances lowered her head down onto his wide chest, beneath his broad sculpted shoulders, checking for breath sounds. There weren't any. An overwhelming feeling of dread appeared in the pit of her stomach. She looked over to Chase and Taub who were standing in the corner of the room. They both were people she had learned to rely on, to trust. Yet there they were not attempting to do anything. Her eyes lashed out at them in anger
How could they just stand there! She felt furious that they had given up hope so soon.
Deep down inside her, a voice she would never claim to be her own, reminded herself that they were doing the right thing. This was expected when the patient is terminal. They knew there was nothing they could do. It would be useless to try. They were being sensible.
But that didn't mean she was going to be.
"What are you incompetent!" Frances yelled at the nurse. The woman in question jumped at the sound. She was young and obviously frightened. The sensible part of herself was telling her to sympathize, to try to understand and to stay calm. That would've been the reasonable thing to do.
It's what he would've done.
Not her.
The nurse still made no movements to comply with Frances' wishes. She was about to leave the room and get the oxygen machine herself when she saw Taub open his mouth to stop her. Upon seeing her expression he hesitated. Chase picked up where he left off.
"Frances" He said slowly in his deep Australian drawl. There was a look of compassion in his eyes along with a contrasting look of serious authority. "There's obviously a conflict of interest here, you really shouldn't be treatin-"
"I said get me the god damn oxygen!" Her voice cracked as she practically pleaded with anyone who would listen. She knew the patient still had a chance, they just had to try. She needed someone to let her try. A tear fell down her cheek as she blinked and it fell down onto the man beneath her. "We only have about 4 minutes until hypoxic brain damage sets in from lack of oxygen." Her voice was still shaking but she tried to compose herself. Maybe then they would take her seriously.
Her vulnerable brown eyes widened as she watched Chase give the obligatory nod to the nurse, telling her that she should do what she asked. Temporary relief flooded her as the nurse ran out of the room to grab the supplemental oxygen. She leaned down and began to do rescue breathing for the time being, pinching his nose and lowering her mouth onto his.
His lips were cold and chapped, tinged blue at the edges. Not warm and inviting like she remembered.
Alternating between the breathing and CPR Frances wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, her sweaty dark hair falling into her face. The process was strenuous, especially with only one doctor doing it. Usually another doctor would be helping her, but the only other ones in the room were staying at the back of it.
They knew it was hopeless. They had come to terms with it. Why she couldn't she had no idea. She knew Chase was only humoring her by telling the nurse to grab the oxygen. Maybe he hoped that giving in would shut her up. Still, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was him.
And here he was, lying on a hospital bed unable to breathe by himself.
The nurse rushed back into the room, her cheeks tinted pink from the run to get the oxygen. There was no supplemental oxygen in this patients room, he was deemed too terminal for it. He had even signed a DNR months prior to his hospitalization. The nurse put the cart by the bed and then walked out of the room as fast as she came.
Breaking the patient's DNR was essentially breaking the law. The new nurse obviously knew enough not to want anymore to do with this particular case.
After giving him a long breath, she looked at Taub and Chase and faltered. "I- I-" Her voice cracked. She took in an uneven gasp of air and shut her eyes closed, tears leaking out. She choked down a sob before continuing. "I need you to help me- I- I can't hook up the machine and continue to give him CPR and I- I just"
Finally giving in and stepping over to where she was, Taub rested his hand on her back. "I'll hook up the machine, you continue with the breathing."
There was no flood of relief this time. She was grateful to her coworker and her friend, but things were getting too intense for her to possibly relax. Thunder crashed outside and it sounded as though the sky was shattering. The sky was inky black, darker than usual even though it was past eleven. How suiting.
She nodded to Taub and went back to the breathing. His pulse was still there, she felt it faintly on his neck, but it was erratic. She resisted the urge to sob. Never before had she been like this, always with her patients she never got too attached. Her emotional reaction towards them leaning more towards indifference. Something that working under House had only accentuated. Yet here she was, trying her hardest not to breaking down and start wailing as she gave CPR.
Taub put a hand on her back once again and pulled her away from the patient. She was just about to protest when she saw him holding the oxygen mask in his hand. Her expression softened when he handed it to her. Only once is was in her hand did she realize she was shaking intensely. She took another deep breath trying to compose herself, but every time she did she was reminded of how he could not.
That thought sent her into overdrive, she rushed to put on the oxygen mask, fumbling with the straps the go over his ears. When it was finally on, her tense body visibly relaxed and her shoulders slouched. Still, she remained close to his bedside, not willing to leave. Taub had backed up and was now in line again with Chase. If the two men were talking she wouldn't have heard it. She was in her own world, consumed.
Frances noticed her hands were still shaking slightly as she ran her fingertips across the mask's straps. Her finger's wandered across the curve of his ear and brushed across his brown hair. He still had the same two subtle grey streaks on either side, like he did when they first met. She took this time to get a good look at him. His eyes were closed and thin brown eyelashes grazed his boyish cheeks. His face was thinner now, showing off the sharp bones of his cheek and jaw. She ran her fingers across the curve of his face and across his thin mustache.
God she hated that stupid mustache.
He gave a small cough and she thought she saw his eyes flicker behind their thin lids. Her head snapped up to look at his vitals.
It was then that her heart sank deep into her chest.
They hadn't gotten any better.
She had expected them to, especially once he was on the oxygen. Why she couldn't just accept reality she'd never know. Her mouth visibly curved downward when she checked his O2 stats.
They were only at 87. He was hypoxic. She was a pulmonologist, for Christ's sake. She of all people should know that there was only so much they could do if his oxygen percentage wasn't raising above 90 while on supplements.
Maybe she'd just wait. It hadn't even been that long since she and Taub had given it to him. Maybe they only had to wait a little longer.
Looking down she concentrated instead this time on the bed sheets. Inwardly she smiled at how he looked in his hospital gown. He looked like a child. She could almost pretend he wasn't sick. She nearly gave a tiny smile when it fell as she remembered his request to her.
He never wanted to be in a hospital. He hated the fluorescent light and the cold white tile. The thin bedsheets and glass walls of the patient rooms. It was the last thing he wanted.
Yet he was here, because of her.
She tried to look down even further, avoiding the gaze of his unopened eyes. She noticed either Taub's or Chase's feet walk closer to hers. She knew what they were going to do, tell her that they had tried their hardest. That there was nothing more they could do. They were going to spout to her the same crap they had all said numerous times to grieving family and friends. She knew not to believe any of it.
Just before she was going to object to each of their little speeches, they all heard the vitals machine give a beep. She looked up frantically. She knew all she had to do was wait. It wasn't time yet. They still had time together.
She glanced over at his O2 status.
86.
It had dropped.
Chase and Taub each stopped in their tracks. Neither having any idea what to say. They both were shocked in their own right. Maybe they had expected it to work just like she had. Maybe they had hope too, deep down.
"Thing is." She remembered House saying "hopes for sissies."
Her heart lurched inside her chest. This couldn't be happening.
Another beep. All heads jerked toward the monitor.
Another point lost.
85.
She wasn't going to let there be another. She reached out with insane speed, and pressed the button on the supplemental oxygen, increasing it to 100 percent.
It beeped again, he was up to 86.
Then another, down to 85.
A shot of adrenaline coursed through her veins. She reached over and grabbed the mask from his face. Pulling it off she heard a tiny gasp of air from his mouth. She began breathing for him again. Then giving him oxygen. Then breathing. Then more oxygen. She repeated the actions over and over like a mantra. She refused to give up. Not here, not now.
Her lips were on his, cold and completely blue now. Blowing air into his lungs and sending the precious oxygen he was lacking throughout his body. Her eyes glanced up at his vitals. Her face never leaving his.
His oxygen level was still at 85. Nothing was working.
House's words rang through her mind again.
"Get her out of her." She heard Chase tell Taub gently. She was so disoriented, his voice sounded distorted, as if he were miles away instead of a few feet. Her head began to spin. "I don't want her here when they call time of death."
Her stomach rolled, she was certain that she was going to throw up. She refused to face this. She wanted to curl up into a corner and cry. She wanted to yell and throw a fit. 'This isn't fair!' She wanted to scream. 'Why did this have to happen to him!' She wanted to yell, yell so loud that the entire universe would hear and have to answer for what they had done.
"Please" she heard herself croak. Her own voice sounded so oddly foreign. "Just please." Laced in her tone was defeat. She had no justification, no rationalization for why she should stay. She couldn't even think clearly let alone logically. How disappointed House would be if he saw this. She was an absolute mess. She rubbed her eyes and saw her mascara had run, black smears coating her face. Tears stained her cheeks as they rolled endlessly now from her eyes. They dripped down onto him and onto that stupid hospital gown.
She quit the breathing and placed the oxygen mask on him again one last time, for good. "Alright." She sighed looking Chase in the eyes. "I'm finished. At least just let me stay here."
He nodded silently, leaving the room. Frances sat down in the chair next to the bed. The chair that was reserved for the patient's loved ones. It seemed that that was all she was now. She had failed as a doctor. The last thing she could cling onto was that maybe she hadn't failed as a loved one.
She grabbed his hand and held it, turning it over to hold his palm against hers. Taub watched as she rubbed her thumb pack and forth against his smooth skin. He left the room too, without saying a word. There was nothing he could say, not right now. Maybe later. Not now.
She closed her eyes and observed the darkness the lids gave her. Trying to imagine what he saw behind his own. She imagined galaxies and stars and colors. He deserved to see colors.
He sure as hell didn't deserve this.
She wondered if his brain had begun to flood it's system with dopamine from the cerebral hypoxia. She sighed, the only sounds accompanying her in the room were the whirl of the oxygen machine and the steady but slow beeps of his heart.
It seemed stable now. Not that that would matter.
She heard more beeps, louder and more random. She assumed they were just heart palpitations. She didn't want to think about if they were his oxygen declining.
She didn't even fathom it was his oxygen increasing.
Till she looked up.
Seeing it at first, she thought maybe she was dreaming. She had gone without more than a few hours sleep at a time for a while. It would only make sense that she was sleep deprived and imagining things.
Till she heard him groan.
His eyes fluttered and she watched as the subtle breathing movements in his chest became fuller and deeper.
She burst into tears when she saw his O2 was up to 93.
She smiled and cried simultaneously. Experiencing more emotions in that single second than she felt she ever had in her entire life. She sobbed, a grin still plastered on her face. Then she laughed and laughed even harder. "James?" She whispered and when his eyes began to stir she held back a cry.
His eyes, oh his absolutely gorgeous, kind, emotion filled eyes, opened. He gave her a weak smile. She began to smile wider than she thought she possibly could, worried that the skin was about to tear around the edges.
"Hello." He whispered. His once velvety and smooth voice was scratchy and quiet. He gave a cough, speaking obviously taking a lot out of him. Yet she didn't let that deter her. Frances squeezed her grip on his hand tighter, elated when she felt him squeeze back.
"Hello." She replied softly her voice sounding utterly breathless. How ironic. He grasped her hand tighter as he gazed into her eyes. She felt her cheeks grow hot under his stare.
"Tell me." He said quoting her favorite movie with a cheeky smirk "however did we end up like this?"
She stared at him and began to chuckle. Not picturing a hospital bed where she had begun to prepare herself for his untimely death the place to quote cheesy romantic comedies. Her smile was so large now, she felt the corners of her eyes begin to crinkle. "Well, that's quite a long story." She replied.
"Oh, I don't mind listening." He said rubbing his thumb atop hers as his vitals gave another beep. His O2 went up again to 94. "I've got some time."