Title: Ten Days of Repentance
Rating: PG13
Summary: Ongoing counseling at Mayfield
Words: about 1650
Disclaimer: Mine Mine Mine. Or not.
Beta: Semi-beta'd by Belladionne. And then I went and changed some stuff after she had read it but wanted to get it posted. Let me know if you spot an error. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Warnings/Spoilers: Through season 5.
Feedback: A big thank you and virtual ice cream cones (they're less fattening!) to all those who have "favorited" my story and added me to their update lists. I truly appreciate the reviews and comments. Please feel free to leave more than one review and to pass the story on to others (if you post it on any forums {i.} let me know!). Thank you; muchas gracias; dekuju; tak; merci beaucoup; danke; toda raba …
Author's note #1: 6I know, it was naughty of me to end the last session as a cliff hanger, but it was necessary for House to exhibit a major emotion and anger is what he has in him. Am I forgiven?
Author's note #2: There's no music for this session. If there were, it would be Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, but I needed it to be stark, empty, repentant; so no music. I added it to the playlist though, 'cause I really like the song.
Music: none
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This is a different office
Yes. It will take a while for them to repair the damage you did to my office so we have to meet here for a while.
It's a different office.
Yes House. You already commented on that.
I don't want to meet in here. I like the other office.
Well then, you should not have thrown everything around in my office and thrown the chairs out the window.
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
There's not enough room for me to walk around.
There's no chair for me to sit in.
Your cane is currently sitting outside my window and down the hill. Once grounds keeping retrieves it, you're not getting it back for a while so I'm pretty sure pacing is not in your near future.
Which means you are back in the wheelchair for a bit and you won't need a chair. Since we all know how much damage you can do with a single chair, I wouldn't expect to have any loose chairs around you for a while either.
I was angry. You want me to talk about things I don't want to, things that are in my past and can't be changed. Why bother? I can't undo anything I've already done.
Greg, -
Don't call me Greg! You're not allowed to call me Greg.
Enough Greg. If you need a way to express your anger aggressively, I'll arrange for ways for you to do so, but you will NOT do it in this office.
Do you understand?
Yeah. I'll be good. I'll behave myself.
Greg, it's not about simply "behaving yourself". There are things in your life, some of them in your past, that are very troubling to you and they are causing you serious stress and anger. You need to deal with your emotions before they kill you.
I wonder if I should rename you Randall Patrick McMurphy. Ever since you got here you've been a rabble-rouser, trying to change the rules you don't like, bringing gambling into the ward, stirring up dissension and discontent among the other patients. Even that watch cap you've taken to wearing.
My head is cold. Your goons shaved off most my hair and I told you, I don't like to be cold.
You've refused to take your medication and argued with anyone and everyone. You've tried to bypass every attempt to help you get better. This isn't a game Greg.
I'm concerned about you and where you are heading. You've been spiraling out of control.
Society values cooperation over independence, obedience over individuality, and "NICENESS" above all else.
I don't think I can do that. I NEED my independence and my individuality. And I just don't see the point to being "nice" all the time.
(Quietly, subdued.)
They put me in seclusion.
Took away everything.
I have a mat to sleep on and a blanket and pillow. That's it.
No cane.
No way to get up off the ground without assistance.
They bring me a tray of precut and ready to eat food so I don't need utensils. It's all non-breakable plates and cups. And then they stand there until I eat it. Not talking to me. Not allowing me any contact with anyone.
I can't have my I-pod or my TV. No books. I don't even get that lousy piped in elevator music the nurse is so fond of playing for the crazies. Nothing.
No lousy out of tune piano with sticky keys even.
Even prisoners can have a harmonica.
If you guys really want to see me go insane, you've found the one way to do it.
Greg, we're not trying make you go insane. We need you to be away from the distractions that you allow yourself. If they don't watch you eat, you won't eat. You get lost in that massive brain of yours and forget to take care of even your basic needs.
(Quietly. Lost.)
How do I know you're real? How do I know any of this is real?
I mean – c'mon. I work in a hospital that allows me to do pretty much anything I want, as long as I cure the patient. Cockamamie ideas based on nothing but an odd random thought that pops into my head at the right moment. My boss wears clothes that are meant to draw my attention to her. Sexy as hell, but really, is that what an administrator of a major hospital should be wearing?
I get away with rude comments and ignoring policy. Hell, I should have been brought up on sexual harassment a hundred times over. I'm disrespectful to everyone, I don't do hours in the clinic my contract requires me to do…
I feel like I live in a fishbowl. Like someone is watching me, analyzing me. Testing me to see how I'll react.
Maybe it's a delayed reaction to my motorcycle accident a few months ago; maybe I hit my head harder than I thought. Or the bus accident or the deep brain stimulation or the Physostigmine I took to boost my memory to find the clue I was missing to try to save Amber.
Maybe Amber isn't dead. Then Kutner wouldn't be dead. Maybe I'm lying in a hospital bed in a coma from the accident and all this is my brain trying to fight its way through the fog…
Greg. Amber IS dead. And so is Larry Kutner. I know it would be easier for you to pretend that they are not, but that would not be a healthy choice.
Maybe the Ketamine screwed with my brain more than any of us figured.
What if I'm still in a coma after the infarction and all of this has just been in my vegetative mind? That's possible. Maybe I've just made all of this up as a defense mechanism… I've created my own little world. Wilson's there, because, well, Wilson's always there…He's the rational part of me. Cuddy? Hell, that's easy; she's the emotional part of me. Amber, she's obviously the female me. Chase, Cameron, Taub, Foreman, even… They're all different bits of me. Kutner is obviously me as a young doctor -
GREG! Stop it. THIS IS REAL. You are real. I am real. Your staff, your friends, they ARE all real. And Amber and Kutner ARE dead.
I can't tell what's real and what's not.
…Damn! I can't even storm out of here in an impressive snit since I can't open the door while I'm in this damned wheelchair. They made sure to give me one I can't wheel myself and they've strapped me into it so I can't just get out and walk off.
I didn't sign up for any of this. I just wanted Kutner and Amber to leave me alone. To get Cuddy out of my head. To find out what's wrong with me.
I'm NOT CRAZY. I'm not violent and disturbed. I'm not.
You're right House. You're not insane and you're mostly not violent. But you have had several violent and damaging episodes while you've been here and you need to find better ways to express your anger and your fears.
I know you are hoping to get a pass to see that play on Broadway in a few weeks. If your attitude and efforts don't improve, I'm going to have to deny it to you.
I know.
I don't want to disappoint Lisa.
Or Wilson.
I'll try.
I will.
I don't want to be miserable. I don't want to be in pain.
Okay, I'll talk to Amanda to see if she will go to the director to get your swimming privileges back as part of your PT, and I'll try to get your piano privileges back because I think it's good for your emotional health.
But I need you to do your part too.That means taking your meds every day, on time, no hassling the nurses about it.
When you go to the pool or to play the piano you WILL take Stephen or another Associate with you. You are NOT to go unaccompanied.
You make the effort, I'll make the effort.
Agreed?
Yeah. Agreed.
(Both are quiet for a few minutes.)
How do other people do it? How do they meet others? How do they know to be happy?
How did Wilson know it was okay to trust Amber? To get involved with her? To fall in love with her?
The idiot's been married and divorced 3 times and yet, he was STILL willing to go through it all over again to be with Amber. And the pain he went through when she died. How can he do that to himself?
Lisa's been torn into pieces by her desire, her Quixotic quest, to be a mother. She thinks I don't know about the miscarriage she had, but I do. Then she thought she had a child to adopt and it was snatched away from her at the last moment. Rachel was a surprise for her. But she doesn't know if she'll be able to adopt her or whether she'll be moved to another foster parent or even if she'll be healthy. And she still puts herself out there, looking for a husband. Looking for something I don't think I can be.
How do they do that? How can they just "leap"?
They just do, Greg. They take a deep breath and go. All you see are the losses. You don't see everything they've gained. It isn't a logic problem or a scientific equation, Greg. They've looked at the pluses and minuses and decided the risk was worth it.
You're willing to risk everything but yourself. And now, when want to take a chance, you don't know how to even try to take a risk.
Greg, I want you the think about what you really WANT out of life. Where did you think you'd be at 50? Are you there? What do you want out of the next 25 – 50 years of your life? And yes, before you ask, I do think you have a few more good years out there for yourself. And I do think there are things you WANT to achieve and that you CAN achieve. Let's talk about that next time, okay?
I think we are closer to the answers you need House. We'll get there together.
'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more'
I want you to come talk with me tomorrow.
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Author's note #3: House's line about "cooperation over independence…" is from a Sue Grafton novel, O is for Outlaw. I was listening to it as I drove to Poughkeepsie last week and it lead me to this chapter.
Author's note #4: From the Shemoneh Esrie: The purpose of the 10 days from Rosh Hashana until Yom Kippur is repentance, tshuvah. Engaging oneself in repentance requires introspection as we look into our actions and we have regret for our transgressions. At the sound of the first shofar blast, teru'ah it cries out to each of us for "self-examination", to reconcile our differences with each other, and to make amends and repent. The use of the emotion of guilt can act as a positive motivator; facing shame and regret pushes a person towards tshuvah.
And yes, I know House is not Jewish, but it fits!