A/N: Don't ask me at all where this came from. I was just listening to the song on my iPod when I felt the lyrics fitted pretty well. I'll admit, I'm not good at writing House 'politics' his thoughts and feelings, 'cos I don't really understand them all the time. But I hope you enjoy, and let me know what I can do to improve!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own House or the song.
Give Me Some Love
Me and my guitar play my way
It makes them frown
The little pieces by the highway
Bring me down
House strummed his guitar. Once, twice. His rough fingers sleekly found the strings and depressed each in turn. Whilst flicking a pick through them. The sounds echoed through the office, clearly slicing a pattern through the air. Long sickly sweet notes born out of boredom.
Mine is not a heart of a stone
I am only skin and bone
Those little pieces are little pieces of my own
Each finger found its place, each strum of the instrument was calculated and precise. No mistakes. He made it look so easy. Yet, it was not, the look of bliss his face bore was a mask that covered concentration. He sought perfection. Each sound had it's place.
Reaching the end of his few notes he sat in his chair and balanced the guitar in his lap. Feeling pride and self satisfaction. He'd mastered the challenge and now he allowed the prize to be granted. His gaze reached the conference room where the chairs sat empty. An unwelcome intrusion of thoughts. He lay the guitar down and tossed his favourite ball into the air. Trying to distract himself.
Why don't you give me some love
I've taken a shipload of drugs
I'm so tired of never fixing the pain
It didn't work. It didn't often work anymore. Hand eye co ordination was all it took, yet his mind was never fully occupied. Nothing to make him forget temporarily. He sighed and stopped. The ball weighed heavily in his hand. Staring out at the corridor he absentmindedly reached for his vicodin and, using his thumb to pry off the lid, swallowed one. Feeling it satisfyingly slide down his throat, no water to assist its way. Closing his eyes he felt the pain ebb away. The twinge in his leg was always there, but not so bright anymore. He leant back in the chair averting his eyes to the ceiling.
Valium said to me
I'll take you seriously
And we'll come back
As someone else
Who's better than yourself
Once again his mind strayed onto a subject he'd locked away. It was all Wilson's fault. Interfering where his presence was not wanted. Then drawing Cuddy into his scheme. They wanted him to have a new team. He doesn't want a new team. He doesn't need one. The old one was perfectly fine, except…
Many faces at the doorway
All hang around
Watch me fight in the hallway
But make no sound
He needed a new game. Something to take up the time. Something to keep him occupied. No, he didn't need a new case. To have a case you needed to have a team. And House doesn't have a team. House logic triumphs.
So I'm standing all alone
And I'm only skin and bone
So many faces but they all look out for their own
He sighed. That last case had affected more than he had thought. He knew what was wrong yet, he still had needed someone to bounce ideas off. To listen to his thoughts. Cuddy was right about what they would have said.
Why don't you give me some love
I've taken a shipload of drugs
I'm so tired of never fixing the pain
He checked the clock and acknowledged the time. His shift was over, he was free to go. Standing he carefully put his guitar away and pulled on his coat. Cane in one hand, bag in the other he exited the office. Unusually silent. Wilson watched him go, hiding a smile. He knew House would get a team soon.
Valium said to me
I'll take you seriously
And we'll come back as someone else
Who's better than yourself
A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know your thoughts!