Jamie was sure if she closed her eyes, sleep would come. Her mind felt sluggish from the lack of anything other than short catnaps since the day before, and the adrenaline rush had expended any reserves of energy. She sank gratefully onto the mattress, pulling a lone blanket over her, and curled into the fetal position ready to welcome slumber.
She opened her eyes, shifted a little as if trying to burrow further into the mattress and expelled a long breath. Out, two, three, four, five, inhale, count to five and hold for the same, then slowly repeat the process. It was an old trick she'd learned when coping with stressful situations, helping to clear and still the mind by concentrating on breathing and counting, slowly slipping into restful sleep.
She awoke with a jerky start and felt her heart hammering in her chest at the sudden interruption. There was another loud, throaty snore behind her, and Jamie groaned at the unfairness of life. Rolling onto her back, she lifted her head to peer over the side of the bed and sighed as Greg sucked another lungful of air into his open mouth, sounding like an old muffler full of holes.
"Hey," she called sharply, hoping to wake him enough to cease the snoring, but he continued on unabated. Jamie flopped onto her back, scooted closer to the edge of the mattress and stuck out a foot, wiggling her sock covered toes against the side of his head. It appeared to have worked as he snorted once and turned away from the touch, smacking his lips together as his tongue licked at dry lips.
She let her foot dangle over the side of the bed, too tired and lazy to bother pulling it back just yet, and slowly succumbed to the heavy limbed blackness of sleep. The silence didn't last long as another loud snore rudely awakened her. Reflexively, her foot swung outward, catching Blue Eyes on the head as her eyes popped open.
Loud cursing alerted her that his sleep had been interrupted and she smiled in smug satisfaction. The smile turned into a surprised yelp when something tugged hard on her leg and Jamie was pulled out of the bed and landed on the floor with a thud. Her teeth clicked together as her bottom fell hard onto the unforgiving wood floor, tears springing to her eyes. Greg refused to let go of her ankle as she kicked outward, this time with the intent to inflict bodily damage. He gave her leg another tug, lifting her foot towards the ceiling and dragging her further away from the bed.
Jamie twisted away from him and onto her left shoulder, all the fight dissipating when the sudden pressure and movement sent a flash of pain outward from the tender joint. She inhaled sharply, bit her lower lip and rolled onto her back grabbing her left elbow with her right hand and held it tightly to her chest.
Greg still had his hand around her ankle, his grip loose and he was propped on his elbow, peering between her knees at her. His face furrowed with a frown, lips pressed together in a pout and Jamie wondered if he was going to apologize. After a few seconds of him staring at her and not saying a word, he tugged gently on her ankle.
"What?" she asked harshly, putting her anger into her voice instead of resorting to kicking him.
"C'mere and let me check that for you." He gave her ankle another tug, pulling her leg closer to him and not relinquishing it. She jerked her leg back without much conviction and he held it in place firmly. "Quit being a baby and let me take a look at your shoulder. Make sure you didn't do anymore damage to it with your WWF wrestling moves."
"It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't pulled me onto the floor," she told him, wiggling backwards in an effort to escape.
"That's ripe. You kicked me in the head, and I don't subscribe to the turn the other cheek philosophy, if you catch my drift. I'm speaking metaphorically here."
Jamie rolled her eyes knowing exactly which part of his anatomy he was referring too as the other cheek. "Does everything have to be a sexual reference with you?" Seeing the beginnings of a smirk she quickly added, "And you snore loud enough to wake the dead."
"That's why you look like shit. You're a zombie."
With a loud growl, Jamie thrust her foot forward in a feint and quickly pulled her leg out of his grasp. "You're an ass," she said, rolling to her right and pushing herself into a sitting position.
Greg lay back with a sigh and winced as he rubbed at his sore ribs. "Nice to know your impression of me hasn't changed any." Jamie shook her head, resting her right elbow on her knee as she ran her fingers through her hair. "Differential for dark circles under the eyes, crankiness and continual yawning?" he asked, patting the top of the mattress next to him, the covers having been thrown back.
"What are you doing?" she asked, unable to stifle a yawn and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Fatigue," he said, reaching for his pill bottle and continuing his assessment. "Caused by stress, anxiety, lack of adequate rest and thinking you're superwoman, although personally I prefer the Wonder Woman costume." He dropped two pills into his hand and held them out to her. "Doctor's orders: take two, lie down and sleep." Dropping the amber bottle on the floor, he waved his empty hand at the rest of the room. "Everything else can wait, not that there is anything else to do."
Jamie accepted the two white pills and dry-swallowed in imitation of him. "Blech." She stuck out her tongue, scrunched her face, and shook her head as if trying to shake something out of her hair. Greg just grinned.
"Takes a little getting used to," he said, patting the makeshift bed again.
"No," she objected, using her right arm to leverage herself up to her knees and nodded towards the bed. "I'll be fine."
"Yeah," he threw back sarcastically, "I can see where that's done a world of good for you so far. C'mere, I'm not going to bite and you really should let me look at the shoulder again."
Jamie hesitated a moment blinking owlishly down at Greg who lay watching her passively. Her best resting time had been the few hours curled next to him, before he'd woken her with his fever she thought. He had provided a sense of security which had been missing from her life for more than a few years now, but he was still a stranger. Someone she knew very little about, and she wasn't sure if circumstances hadn't thrown them together that they would have ever spoken at all.
A slight tug on Jamie's hand brought her back from her thoughts and she let him pull her towards the mattress. "I really should check your ankle," she said, and let her gaze travel with his to the higher lump under the covers that wiggled.
"It appears intact," he stated confidently, wiggling the toes a little longer for her benefit. "See? Still have motion in the extremities and blood flow; I'll just have to wait on the salsa lessons." He placed a finger against her lips as Jamie began to protest. "Worry about yourself, I'm not going anywhere," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to him despite her tensing. "Would you relax? No wonder you can't sleep," he said, quickly throwing the covers over her.
"Look," he said in quieter tones. "Would it help if I told you a bedtime story?"
Jamie's eyes widened. "You're going to tell me a bedtime story?"
"You don't believe me?"
"I don't know," she said hesitantly, "You don't really seem the type to tell children's stories." Jamie's cheek was now resting against his shoulder despite the fact she'd pushed a pillow next to his head. Greg had an arm around her shoulders and seemed content for her to use him as a human pillow. She wrinkled her nose a bit and he chuckled causing her head to bounce lightly. He tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head so he could look at her. She could get lost in those blue eyes, when they weren't trying to bore a hole through her soul.
"Neither of us smell like roses at the moment, and I didn't say anything about a children's story," he admitted, tightening his hold as Jamie tried to wriggle away. "Relax," he assured her, "the sleep will do us both some good." He released his hold on her chin and dropped his head back as if gathering his own thoughts.
Jamie decided there probably wasn't much harm in just lying here and listening for a few minutes. After all, he was more likely to fall asleep before she would, and as he'd pointed out there really wasn't anything else to do. She couldn't help chortling when he began his story.
"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived an evil stepmother and her three ducklings. Across the valley lived a fairy godfather who was overseer of the wee little bald folk." House raised his head at Jamie's chortles and frowned. "What?"
"You're making this up," she said, poking at him in his good ribs with a finger and smiling. He made a grab for her finger and settled for tapping the end of her nose.
"Am not, now be quiet and let me get on with the story," he told her and settled back once more. "Now, where was I?"
"Wee little bald folk," she reminded him in a decent imitation of a Scottish accent.
As he continued with his story, his voice lulling her into a drowsy haze, Jamie couldn't help but think about the ogre Shrek and his description to Donkey of what an ogre really was. An onion, consisting of many layers, and Jamie, not realizing her eyelids were growing heavy, likened Greg to the same description. Her eyes closed and her breathing evened out and she dreamt of ogres and onions and fairy godfathers.
Blue Eyes hadn't even gotten to the good part of his story when he heard her breathing deepen. He smiled, pulling the covers up higher and let his own eyes close with a small smile and two words: "The end."
+++house_md+++house_md+++
Cuddy looked up from the papers she'd been shuffling, none of them making any sense but fulfilling the obligatory need to do something, and waved Wilson in. From his appearance she surmised he hadn't heard anything more from House over the weekend either.
"Hey," he said lightly, adjusting his tie and nearly dropping onto the sofa.
"Morning," Cuddy replied and asked the inevitable. "No word from House?" Wilson shook his head and continued playing with the end of his tie.
"I don't get it," he said at last, spreading his hands as if questioning the room and sat forward. "No phone calls, nothing."
"Are you surprised?"
He blinked and looked at Cuddy like the thought of House not checking in was preposterous and at last shook his head in dismay. "I don't know." He leaned forward and rearranged the magazines on the coffee table while he gathered his thoughts. "I guess I expected to hear something from him," he said, admitting his concern. "I'm worried."
Cuddy nodded and pulled a paper from under the stack of folders on her desk and handed it to Wilson. "He left the hotel last Sunday morning, before checkout, and sent his luggage back."
"But," Wilson started, and could only stare at Cuddy uncomprehending as his mind raced. Where had House gone, and why had he sent his luggage back? Didn't he need his clothes? An entire week had now passed and they hadn't heard from him. His team was still working in various other departments keeping occupied, but Wilson knew from the questions they asked, they too were becoming concerned with their boss's total absence.
"I take it from your reaction you have no clue as to his whereabouts?" Cuddy asked, her voice unable to hide the tiredness she felt. Wilson shook his head, eyebrows scrunching together and a hand sliding over the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign he was upset. Cuddy let out a sigh. "Would you mind contacting House's parents in the off chance they've heard from him?"
Wilson nodded and licked his lips looking suddenly guilty. "I already called them. Over the weekend," he hastened to add. "They haven't heard from him either." He blew out a long breath as if having confessed had lifted a heavy load off of his shoulders. "Do you think we should call in a missing person?"
Cuddy tapped the end of a pencil against her desk, weighing her options. On one hand, she'd given him three weeks off and told him to get lost, but she hadn't expected him to take her so literally. She wasn't sure anyone else would consider it a weighty concern at this point until after the three weeks had expired. Cuddy explained her reasoning to Wilson, and felt even worse as she watched his shoulders slump and look as if she'd just stolen his bike and kicked his puppy. She'd strangle House herself for making his friend suffer, if she thought it would do any good.
"Keep me posted, Wilson," Cuddy began, knowing she was affectively giving him the boot, but she had no other means to console him. He knew as much as she did, after all. "He's all grown up now; he can take care of himself."
Wilson nodded and exited her office without another word. Cuddy wanted to assure him everything would be all right, but couldn't convince herself of that, let alone Wilson. As soon as Wilson had disappeared, Cuddy pulled out her cell and dialed House's mobile number. She listened for a moment before closing her phone. His caller ID would notify him of the missed call.
Cuddy went back to shuffling her papers.
tbc