Sand and Water

by Mrs Ronald Weasley

Several years after the death of his best friend, Gregory House is left to deal with the aftermath of the accident that claimed the life of James Wilson. Songfic. HouseWilson. Not necessarily slash, but could be looked on as that or friendship.

Sand and Water

Author: Mrs. Ronald Weasley

Rating: PG or K+

Pairing/s: House/Wilson is implied

Warnings: Character death

Category: Angst/Tradegy

Summary: Several years after the death of his best friend, Gregory House is left to deal with the aftermath of the accident that claimed the life of James Wilson.

A/N: Songfic to Beth Nielson Chapman's 'Sand and Water'. It is a lovely and sad song that I first heard on the TV show Charmed, but decided to use it to fuel my current House, M.D. addiction.

All alone I didn't like the feeling

All alone I sat and cried

All alone I had to find some meaning

In the centre of the pain I felt inside

The early morning sunlight penetrated the closed blinds of my apartment windows and although I would've normally opened them, I left them closed, liking the dark and dinginess of the room.

I sat alone on my back leather couch; I did this a lot in the past years. Today was different though; it was the six year anniversary of the accident.

You would think that after six years, I would've gotten over the fact that my best friend's life was claimed in that disaster, but I haven't, can't.

Maybe it was the reality that I blame myself for the accident. I have been told several times throughout these past years that it wasn't at all my fault; that it was the fault of the drunk driver that hit us, and perhaps he was one who claimed your life, but the all out blame belongs to me.

I often wonder if only I hadn't dragged you out to dinner late that night that maybe you would still be here. I read somewhere once that does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live, but was this really a dream? No, it is a reality; a reality that made everyday life a living hell.

Pain; I've lived with it basically for almost my entire life, ever since the infraction that left my leg permanently damaged. But somehow that pain is almost nothing now, just a slight ache every now and then, which takes my mind away from the pain of my broken heart.

I loved you, James Wilson, with all my heart, more than either of us were willing to admit, and it pains me that you died not knowing my true feelings. I was a coward, still am and somehow I know that it doesn't change things.

Was there some meaning behind this pain? I felt that there should be, but when you love someone like I do and that special person is suddenly and tragically ripped from your life you feel nothing but pain. Pain that seems to have no reason to go away, but you know why it won't. It's because that person left a void in your life, heart, and soul that can never be filled again.

When this day rolls around, I usually sit and cry, thinking of you and often wondering what we would be doing if you were still here. But today I have other plans; plans that I'm scared to death to follow through with, maybe because it's the idea that I have to face something that I've never been able face without completely breaking down.

Just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes and I desperately look around my apartment for something that won't remind me of you. My tear filled blue eyes land on the bouquet of roses lying on the kitchen table and they remind me of what I know I must do.

Slowly I rise from the couch; I reach for the cane, my cold and shaking hand grips it tightly as if it's your life. Only your life was and still is out of my reach. My steps toward the table are slow and unstable. With my free hand I grab my car keys and the bouquet off the table.

It's October and although I should grab a jacket, I don't, not caring if I get sick. I open the door and the bright sunlight blinds me; squinting through the light and tears, I make my way to the car.

All alone I came into this world

All alone I will someday die

Solid stone is just sand and water, baby

Sand and water and a million years gone by

The Saturday morning traffic is heavy and I know it will take me a good hour or so to get to my destination. But it doesn't matter; I know that my mind will never leave you.

I drive pass the hospital and the memories come flooding back, like a dam whose barriers have been broken.

October 16th; two days after the accident, I entered those doors for the last time. How I managed to escape the accident with only minor injuries I don't understand and it pisses me off because I should've taken some of yours, maybe then you would still be here.

I found that I could no longer stand to work there, not without your memory lingering in my conscious everywhere I went in that building.

Your wife left me with the painful duty of cleaning out your office, damn her; she knew how much that killed me.

I kept everything of yours that I could; it lies in the boxes that it was tossed into in a fit of rage and tears. I haven't been able to open one since I brought them home and left them in a spare closet.

My office wasn't as hard to do; I knew why I was cleaning it out: the simple reason is that I no longer wished to make my work a living hell too. Cameron, Foreman, and Chase had pestered me to stay, but they didn't truly understand my pain; sure they felt sadness because you died, but they felt nothing compared to me.

My thoughts leave the hospital as I pass the street that leads to your home. Although it was sold after the funeral, it will always be your home in my eyes.

The nights that we spent drinking and watching sports on your big screen TV were some of the best nights of my life. For when I was with you all the world was right and nothing was worth worrying over. God, what I wouldn't give to have those nights back, even for just one more.

I watch as the city buildings fade from my rearview mirror and I enter the beautiful country side.

The lake slowly comes into view along with a hill, and a small cemetery that lies atop the green grassy hill; your final resting place.

I slow down and turn into the driveway. As my hand reaches to turn off the engine, I briefly wonder if I shouldn't just turn around and run as I have many times before; but somehow my hand manages to work and silence meets my ears as the engine shuts down.

Instead of my hand moving to the door handle, it grips the steering wheel firmly; my knuckles turn white, along with the rest of me, I think. I'm unable or unwilling to move. I sit here; my mind numb to my emotions, my eyes staring unblinkingly ahead.

I'm not sure when I gathered the courage to move my eyes away from the large oak that they stared at; they landed on the bouquet of red roses that lay on the passenger seat. I sighed and my hands left the now sweaty steering wheel and I stared at the roses for a moment more before grabbing them and swinging open the door.

I will see you in the light of a thousand suns

I will hear you in the sound of the waves

I will know you when I come, as we all will come

Through the doors beyond the grave

After shutting the car door, I limped over to the beach.

The now afternoon sun shone over the water like it was glass. The waves gently washed onto the shore. I knew that you loved the water; that's why you chose to be buried here, so that someday you will be nothing more than sand and water.

The sunlight reminds me of your smile; bright and never fading. That handsome smile that attracted everyone around you; my eyes fill with tears with the realization that I will never see your smile again. It's embedded in my memory forever and every time I think of you, your smile never fails to be your most unforgettable element.

The sound of the waves reminds me of your voice; soft and gentle, even when you were angry, your voice never showed it. The water whispers to me and I swear that it's you, James, telling me that you really never left me. And that you will be there to meet me when it's my time. And although I want very much to believe this, my mind tells me that I'm just imagining things.

The water tells me that you love me and always have and very quietly I whisper into the wind, "I love you too, I just wish you knew that."

And I swear that I heard, "I know."

Maybe there really was a way of communicating from beyond the grave.

Sighing again, I leave the beach behind and make my way over to where you lay. For a second I stare down at the beautifully polished marble that marks the spot. Then I sit down and run a hand over the engravings:

James Wilson

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glint on snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle morning rain

And when you wake in the morning's hush,

I am the sweet uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight

I am the soft stars that shine at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there,

I did not die.

The verses were from a song that was sung by a youth choir at your funeral. They are beautiful words, but for some reason I felt that they somehow didn't quite live up the standards that I felt that you should have.

That last line 'I did not die' is a lie and I know it, if you weren't dead, then you would still be here.

I turn and grab the flowers that were resting on the ground beside me. "I brought these for you, James. I hope you like them." I set them in front of the rock that sits positioned into the ground, the only item that tells me you're here.

I sit quietly for a few moments, reading again the verses that were carved into the grey stone. I don't know why I don't cry, I want to, but the tears will not come.

I kept no sense of time while I sat there, tracing and retracing your name on the stone; it was almost dusk, when I finally got up, unable to sit there any longer.

I stood, and I meant to say goodbye, but at that moment my voice seemed to be blocked by my emotions. I don't know when I finally left and got into my car; but I was aware of the drive home; it didn't take as long as the trip out had been.

All alone I heal this heart of sorrow

All alone I raise this child

Flesh and bone, he's just bursting toward tomorrow

And his laughter fills my world and wears your smile

The moment the apartment door shut behind me, I went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of scotch. I was just pouring some when I knock at the door startled me.

Moments later I swung it open to find, to my great surprise, Julie standing on the other side with a little boy, who looked suspiciously like you. "Julie, hi," I said, moving aside to let her and the little boy in. "What are doing here?"

"Greg, I know this is probably not the best time for this, but I have to do this," she said. I looked at her, not sure what she was talking about. When I didn't respond she continued. "This is James," she told me. And I looked to the child.

James! My face must've looked surprised. "James?" I asked.

"Yes, James Jr." Now I understood; this was your son. I know neither of us had any suspicion that your wife was pregnant. "Listen, Greg, I know that you're probably going to argue this, but, I got offered a job in California and I've decided that it's probably the best thing for me to do. The only problem is that I can't take James with me." I stood, shocked, was she really asking me to raise her child? No, make that your child. "I need someone to take in James. I wouldn't take him to an orphanage, and you're the only person that I could think of who might do it. So, will you?"

I didn't know what to say or do. I stood, frozen. I've never ever had to look after a child before, let alone one who was the spitting image of you. "I…I don't know," the words slid from my tongue. Would I do this? I didn't know how to do this. "I've never looked after a child before."

"Well," she said, "He's going to be six this year; he's already gone to preschool and I know that he should've already started school, but this last year has been really bad for me, and I think you understand why I'm taking this job offer. Please, Greg, it's either you or the orphanage."

That got me. I would have to do this. There was no way I was going to let little James go to an orphanage, especially with your good looks and brains. "Ok," I said after a minute. "I'll do it."

"Great!" she said, "Jimmy, this is your Uncle Greg, remember I told you about him on the way here?" The boy nodded.

"Hi," I said, smiling down at him.

What fright he had inside him, must've disappeared because he smiled, your smile, and laughed as he said, "Yes, I know. I'm going to be staying with you aren't I?"

"Yes," I said, "But I think that we'll get along just fine. You're just like your daddy and we were friends for a long time."

I will see you in the light of a thousand suns

I will hear you in the sound of the waves

I will know you when I come, as we all will come

Through the doors beyond the grave

"Some of his stuff is in the car," Julie said, "I'll go and get it." She turned and walked out, leaving the door open as she walked to her car. I moved back over to the counter and got that glass of scotch, I downed it as James watched me.

"You shouldn't drink that," the boy said, staring up at me with your big brown eyes.

"I know, but sometimes life gets hard and you need it," I smiled back down at him.

"Yes, I know. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a dad." I smiled sadly, God what I wouldn't give to have you here with me now.

"Well, I'm going to try my best to be your dad, but you don't have to call me dad, because I'm not." The boy nodded.

I looked up as Julie stepped in with a bunch of bags. "Well, I should probably be going my flight leaves in a couple of hours." She moved over to James and knelt down. "I'm going to be leaving now, I don't know when I'll be back. But I promise to call you everyday. Uncle Greg will take good care of you, I'm sure of it." She hugged him and came over to me. "I know this is going to be hard for the first month or so, but you'll get used to it. Call me if you ever want to know anything, I'll see you, when I get around to. Goodbye."

I watched as she hugged James one last time before heading to the door. "Julie?" I called after her; there was one thing I needed to know. "Do you know what day it is today?"

She turned and frowned at me, and I knew right then that she had no clue. "The 14th? Why?"

I shook my head, "never mind." She shrugged and left.

I sighed and looked over to the boy, "come on, let's get you unpacked."

All alone I came into this world

All alone I will someday die

Solid stone is just sand and water, baby

Sand and water and a million years gone by

Julie was right; the first month was probably the worst. But we got through it, and now fifteen years later, I stand watching with tears in my eyes as our son walks up to the podium to give his valedictorian speech. He graduated top of his class in med school; something that I know you would be very proud of.

I still haven't gotten over you, but things have gotten better, especially with little James around and often I wondered if you aren't really living inside him. I love you James Wilson with all my heart and although you may already be sand and water; I know that I will see you I come into heaven.