When
Stress Strikes
Title: When Stress
strikes
Author: Interstella
Pairing: House/Wilson
Word
Count: 462
I think this is considered a long drabble. Pretty much just some of House's rambling thoughts. House's POV.
When stress strikes
When stress strikes, I like to run. Through the city into the fields, just run and run and run until I can't run any further and collapse onto a heap. The constant movement sooths my mind, the thump thump thump of my shoes hitting the pavement gives my thoughts focus. The running makes me feel free as a bird, soaring high where no one and nothing can touch me. Adrenalin pumping through my veins reminds me that I am alive.
And when I finally stop, too tired to carry on, I stare blankly at the sky and laugh. The building tension of the day just flows out of me in laughter and giggles. And then, as I lie on the concrete, breathing heavily, spent, my day seems so insignificant. I can look back on it and realize that there's nothing to be stressed about.
Sure, my patient died, and my friend is annoyed at me, again. But I'm alive, and I can run. And that's all that matters to me.
So you can imagine just how hard it is for me now. Now it is impossible for me to run, my leg cramps and gives off waves of pains at the mere thought of the exercise. And nobody understands. They think I'm an ass because I like it, because I like to annoy people, because I don't believe that I need them. That's all a lie, but it's okay. Now I can't run, the stress is too much; it builds up and up and up until I'm ready to scream.
It won't go away, and I can't run. The infarction had changed my life, in more ways than people seemed to realize.
Except him. James Evan Wilson, wonder boy oncologist with great hair and even better initials. He understands. He knows me well enough to realize that not being able to run is breaking me.
He understands that that's why I go for the pills. They offer me brief release, not only from the pain, and the anger, but from the stress of being a cripple. He stands by me, no matter how 'House' like I am, no matter how many insults I send him, or how many times I get him so drunk he can't give his girlfriend what she wants.
He stays with me, and for that, I love him.
When I get stressed, I like to run. The running helps me in ways that nothing else can, but I've now found something close. Now, if I get stressed, I don't overdose on my pills, I call Jimmy, let him know I need him, and then he's here. Within minutes of my call, he's sat with me, watching television, drinking my beer, doing everything while doing nothing. And it works.