Closing his eyes slowly, he rested the back of his head against the cool cement. He couldn't think straight, even though he was sober. He didn't know what was going on; he didn't know what went wrong. He felt old, like a hundred years old… Rubbing his face for a moment, Gregory House opened his blood shot eyes and stared yet again toward the stars. He was gone, really gone… was he better off? Was he better to be alone? Or… was it worth it? To be abused, to be hit, and to be spat at… to be called a whore. To be… loved.
His hands started to shake as he tried not to think about how Wilson had ruined his life, but Wilson loved him... didn't he?
Drawing in a shaky breath, Greg swallowed hard before he tried to stand up. His leg was too sore from the last beating he received. His blue eyes were dimmed down, his face hollow with how much malnutrition he was receiving from the fear of being hit for the wrong movement.
The dark blue eyes followed the space he sat in until he realized that he was sitting inside the small cement bowl, where his office was adjacent to Wilson's office. Sudden fear struck House as he realized that he could have been seen coming to this spot, yes… House had to go find Wilson.
No. He couldn't, it wasn't worth being beat over… tears started to gather in the corners of House's eyes as he tried to decide what to do. Swallowing hard, the diagnostician closed his dim blue eyes and wondered how was he going to get out of this one? This is the one thing he did not like, the one thing he hated… how alone he was. Wilson was the only man (or woman) that loved him for who he was, but did Wilson really love him? Would Wilson beat him continually if he didn't love House?
He tried yet again to get up, and this time he was successful. Feeling a small victory that was won, Greg smiled to himself before he took his cane. He looked around to see if Wilson was there, ready to hit him, before he limped toward the door to go find some Vicodin. He could deal with the pain, because through that pain, through the regular beatings, through the anger, there was love. Love was something every human needed desperately, and Gregory House needed it more than he was willing to admit a loud.