Yep, another OC one-shot. I'm a writing fool today. :P The House characters are not mine. Sarah belongs to me.
The Sky Is Crying
To anyone approaching, he looked like just another worried family member, sitting in the waiting room outside the Emergency Department at PPTH. The man had his head down, bouncing his cane in a constant rhythm on the floor, waiting. He lifted his head every time he heard the doors bang open, only to drop it again when no news was forthcoming.
Finally, he rose and started pacing up and down the hallway, unable to stay seated any longer. His brown-haired friend who had been seated next to him sighed, watching the older man limp back and forth through the waiting area.
"Sit down, House." The brown haired man finally spoke, exasperated. "It won't do any good, you know."
House stopped pacing and paused, leaning on his cane. This helpless feeling that washed over him was new for him. All he could think about was what lay beyond those swinging doors, something he had no control over. His friend understood the feeling all too well, having been in this same position only a few years before. It didn't make the waiting any easier for either of them.
Finally Cameron emerged, looking worn down and beaten. House lifted his head when he heard her approach. Her expression was neutral, betraying nothing.
"We finally got her stabilized, but things still look…" she paused, choosing her words carefully. "…dicey. We'll transfer her to the ICU, then you can see her, okay?"
House nodded. "How long?"
"Half hour, tops." Cameron reached out and touched House's shoulder. "I'll call you myself as soon as she's settled. You and Wilson go get a coffee or something. I'll keep in touch."
Wilson placed his hand on House's back and guided him toward the entrance. A gentle rain was still falling when they left the hospital and headed to the coffee shop across the street.
Once settled into a booth, the two men sat in silence. House watched out the window at the hospital beyond. He felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest as he thought about his Sarah, his wife, the other half of him, laying there alone, all because of his damned foolishness.
They had met a couple of years before at one of the hospital's fancy fundraisers. House and Wilson arrived together, as usual, and they noticed a stunning redhead standing with Cameron. Intrigued, they made their way over. Cameron introduced them, and she and House had hit if off immediately. Sarah Miller was a longtime friend of Cameron's, visiting from New York that weekend. House hated to see her go, and the two managed to stay in touch, maintaining their longish distance relationship until she finally moved to Princeton.
House was jarred from his reminiscence by his phone. It was Cameron, informing him that Sarah was settled and that he was welcome to come see her. "She's still unconscious, but…"
"I want to see her." He responded with his characteristic fierceness, nodding to Wilson to indicate that he was ready to go.
He and Wilson made their way back across the street through the still falling rain. Wilson watched House carefully, trying to read his face. Seeing nothing, they continued on to the ICU, stopping just outside Sarah's room.
What House saw broke what was left of his heart. Sarah was virtually unrecognizable under the layers of tubing, bandages, scrapes, and bruises. I did this to her, he thought, pain and guilt washing over him anew. People are always dying because of my pride and foolishness. Where does it stop?
He pushed the door open and entered the room. The sound of the machines and monitors brought to mind another time, another time someone lay dying, another time he had no control. House found a chair and pulled it over to Sarah's side. Before he sat down, he limped back out to the hallway, where Wilson still sat.
"Go home." He told him roughly. "I'm pulling an all-nighter here." Wilson looked at him questioningly, but nodded in understanding.
Wilson placed his hand on House's shoulder. "If anything happens…"
"Nothing's going to happen." House's eyes flashed in anger. "I'll see you later."
Wilson left and House returned to Sarah's room, settling into the chair. His mind replayed moments from his and Sarah's relationship, from the time she finally moved to Princeton to be with him, to their wedding. It was raining that day, too…no, not just raining, a full on thunderstorm. Wilson joked that it was some sign of things to come. Cameron merely rolled her eyes and shook her head. Both of them were surprised to be there, each standing up for their best friends.
That first year was…an adjustment, to say the least. House and Sarah fought as passionately as they loved. Eventually things settled down, as they do, but they still had the occasional blow out that sent them to their respective friends. That got a lot more complicated when Wilson and Cameron started seeing each other. All of a sudden they became Switzerland, taking themselves out of the fight.
It was another one of their stupid fights that had sent Sarah out of the apartment and into the night. She insisted that she was just going to go for a walk to cool down, and that he should just stay behind. "You'll only make things worse, Greg. Leave me alone. I'll be back…I always come back."
For some reason House felt especially desperate that night, and he chased after Sarah, as well as he could with a cane. It was dark and pouring rain, and Sarah had on a long, navy blue trench coat. "Sarah!" House had screamed to her, making her stop in her tracks, right in the middle of the street.
The SUV driver never saw her. Sarah went flying through the air, landing twenty feet away from the point of impact. House kneeled down painfully in the rain and the mud and her blood, shaking with shock. He heard the driver in the distance making the 911 call, but barely heard anyone else. He didn't even remember calling Wilson, but somehow he appeared to take House to the hospital, following the ambulance.
House snapped back to reality when he thought he heard movement on the bed. He reached out and tenderly grabbed Sarah's hand.
"Sarah…baby…it's me." He gently kissed her hand. "I need you to come back. I'll stop being an idiot…somehow. This…this just isn't worth it…" He felt tears forming, and he bent his head down so his forehead touched her hand. "Just come back to me, okay?"
He didn't know how long he sat like that, but he woke when he felt the hand moving under his. He lifted his head and saw her eyelids flutter, finally opening. The room became a flurry of activity as nurses removed tubes and readjusted IV lines. A doctor gently guided House out of the room, letting him know that he could come back shortly.
Half an hour later, House was back at Sarah's side. She was awake, if not quite alert, and she had a long recovery ahead of her. Still, as the sun shone through the window, House couldn't help but think that he had been given a remarkable gift. His wife, his light, his love had returned to him, and he swore he would never be so damn foolish again. There would always be tough times for them, because that was just the way they were. But perhaps they could find a better way…together, as it should be, through the darkness and rain and into the light.
You know what to do. Read, review, love (or don't. That's OK, too.)