Disclaimer-I don't own House or any of the characters.
This is my first story, wanted to write one for ages now so thought I'd give it a go. This is just a one shot that could be made longer if people like it . Not sure if it's very good so any feedback will be greatly appreciated.
This story is based on a song called 'Sick of it All' by Finger Eleven. It's about House's depression and his relationships with people, especially Cuddy and Wilson. Takes place at the beginning of season 5 when Wilson is not speaking to House. Dark depressive House deals with feelings of suicide and vague references to child abuse.
Sick of it all
Are the sins getting staler
Does every moment move past you
Or does it feel like forever
And shouldn't you be laughing too?
Take a look how they found you
Take a look what they've done to you now
So what was it they wanted
Sullen and haunted?
If only you saw it coming.
Half a bottle of scotch sat on the coffee table as the world famous diagnostician twirled a full bottle of vicodin between his fingers staring at the wall in front of him. He was feeling more depressed lately, his best friend Wilson hasn't spoke to him since the death of his girlfriend Amber nearly 2 months ago, and since then he has gotten drunk every night and taken more vicodin just so he can forget his childhood, the pain in his leg and the loneliness he can't seem to escape. He can't forget the pitying stares Lisa Cuddy the Dean of medicine, his boss, his friend of over 20 years and someone that he loves (but will never admit) gives him as he begins to withdraw further and further inside himself. The sarcastic comments towards people have stopped as well as the flirty comments about Cuddy's breasts or ass; he can't remember the last time he laughed. He pops the cap on the pill bottle and dry swallows another 2 vicodin and slowly gets up with the aid of his cane limps towards the bathroom; he uses the toilet washes his hands and looks at himself in the mirror. His skin is pale and the once vibrant blue eyes look sullen and haunted as the dark black hole that is his life slowly begins to get bigger and threaten to overtake him and swallow him whole.
How far down would you fall
If you never came up again
'Cause you're so sick of it all
And you want to change everything
Just how deep will you go
To see through it all?
He was 15 when he first thought about ending his life, ever since he could remember his dad had called him useless, worthless, mistake and beat him. So after his dad had verbally and physically abused him again earlier that afternoon he decided he didn't want the life that he had been dealt. He went into his parent's room and found his dads pistol and took out one bullet. In the bathroom the 15 year old boy held the black cold metal in his hand as he loaded the gun with shaking hands and stood on shaking legs as he looked at himself in the mirror. He knew his dad wouldn't miss him as he had told him on a number of occasions, he didn't have many friends being too clever and smart for his own good at times made him more enemies than friends. The only person that he would miss and would miss him is his mother, a lovely kind lady whose only flaw was that she was always going to be a doormat, constantly being undermined by her husband at every turn in life. As much as he knew his mother loved him he knew she would never leave and take him away from the man that calls himself his father but has never shown him the love a father should show their child. Taking a deep breath he put the gun to his head, composed himself put his finger on the trigger and began to count down....3...2... the bathroom door suddenly crashed open as his mother burst through the door, crying and telling him to put the gun down. He knew at that moment that he couldn't go through with it and he couldn't change everything...not this time anyway.
If you could consume her
Would you say you were finding your way out?
Is anything coming clearer
Smashing your mirror?
Still you can see you're guilty.
If he could just tell her how he feels and let her in and let her hug him and allow himself to take comfort in her love he could be happy...he would be happy...right?. If he could just let himself be vulnerable let her in these thoughts and feelings would go away...right? He would be changing his life and trying to find the light at the end of this very long dark tunnel he's in at the moment and has been in for a long time. His life and purpose in life would change and his life will become clearer...right? However he knows this won't happen, his insecurities and the fear that he might get hurt again will consume him and drag him down and he knows one day he won't come back up, once he has gone that far down. He hurts her, tells her she would be a terrible mother (even though he knows that's not true) he'll push her away every time she gets to close he'll make her cry as that what he does and what people expect him to do. The anger and guilt he's feeling mixed with the vicodin and alcohol in his system causes him to react and he swings his right fist towards the mirror smashing it to pieces, glass falls on the floor on the sink and several small pieces are embedded in his hand. He doesn't feel the pain or the blood running down his arm or onto the fall he just sees the sadness in her eyes as he makes her cry over and over again and that guilt is slowly pulling him down further.
How far down would you fall
If you never came up again
'Cause you're so sick of it all
And you want to change everything
Just how deep will you go
To see through it all?
The adrenaline slowly wears off as his hand starts to throb and he realizes the amount of blood on the floor. Walking into the kitchen he removes the small pieces of glass from his hand and wraps the towel around the injury and puts pressure on the several smaller cuts and the larger gash on his knuckles. His leg suddenly begins to feel neglected as it throbs in sync with the throbbing in his hand. Reaching into his pants pocket he finds the pill bottle. Vicodin... his best friend and his worst enemy. It brings him relief from the pain but causes him too push the people he cares about away. As the bleeding slowly begins to stop and he discards of the towel on the floor his gaze falls on his wrist. How far would he go to end it all? He knows he will only find out that answer when he has no breath left to breathe and no beats left to come from his heart, he will only get that answer when he goes as far as he possibly could. How far does he really want to fall and how deep does he really want to go?
Coming closer my composure turning
inside out in her
Calling home all alone
You can call I won't answer
Any question in my head
Remains until you feel the same
Never telling how I felt is all I ever cared about
His best friend Wilson, a person that has put up with more crap from him than Cuddy properly has. He wants to know so badly if Wilson still thinks of him as his friend or is it over. He did everything he could to try and save her and he still left and said they were never friends. The messages that he has left to Wilson must have fallen on deaf ears as not one reply has been sent back, the questions he wants to ask just to ease the worry and tension in his head. Like after he has got over his grief will he come back to the hospital, will he call him one day just to see how he is and says he doesn't blame him for her death, one day will they go to a bar or hang out and get drunk and watch T.V. He just wants the same complicated, dysfunctional friendship he's always had with Wilson. He hates change and just craves normalcy and the control that comes with that. Until Wilson tells him these things though and answers his questions he's slowly falling a little bit further down every day.
How far down would you fall
If you never came up again
'Cause you're so sick of it all
And you want to change everything
Just how deep will you go
To see through it all?
He finds himself back where he started at the beginning of the night on his sofa staring at the wall with the scotch in his hand. The amber liquid burning as he swallows the glassful in one go. He remembers his mothers words after the infarction nearly 8 years ago, ''if you ever feel like ending you life at least make sure you have tried to change it for the better first''. He never really thought much about that statement his mum had made that day as she saw how unhappy he was having just been betrayed by Stacey, Cuddy and even his own body. However at this time in his life it feels like he should think long and hard about its meaning. He's known for dissecting every little detail whether it is with the puzzle of a case, patient, employee or friend; he just has to know the reasons why. Doing this to himself is something he avoids, he doesn't want to dissect and pick apart why he does certain things in his life, again vulnerability is a sign of weakness something he has learnt from a young age not to show. Though thinking back to his mother's words and if he was really serious about his life and being happy he has got to show weakness and be vulnerable, he might just find that strength within himself to pull himself up and make those changes. The question is does he have that strength and when he does make those changes will anyone be waiting at the other end of the tunnel. To him it is easier just to keep falling and he knows that's what others think he will do, keep getting drunk and taking pills until he's barely functioning. One time though he feels the need to surprise the people in his life, Cuddy, Wilson, his mother and even his team new and old. Pouring himself one last scotch and dry swallowing 2 more pills he knows his life is going to change, and this time he'll make sure it's for the better.
Didn't know how to end it so just left it at that. So Read and review and thanks for reading.
Disclaimer-I don't own House or any of the characters.