A New Day Has Come
Remy Hadley showed up to work at her usual time. She was dreading all of the potential conversations she was going to have to have before she could get on with her day. It wasn't a good sign that Taub and Foreman were already sitting at he conference table when she arrived.
"Where's Chase," she asked casually.
"Crying 'cause he lost big time," Eric smirked.
"Who won?"
"I did," Taub said, bursting with pride.
"So like what, did Wilson call all of you and rat me out?"
"Something like that," Foreman's reply was sly.
"I don't know about him," Taub pretended Foreman couldn't hear or see what he was saying by talking behind his hand, "But Wilson said we should watch out because you're House's top flunky now."
"Not my fault the boss doesn't trust the boys in his club. Maybe I'm the guy he always wanted his Team to be." Remy headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Foreman tried to exude authority.
"I'll be in the clinic. Call me if we get a case," she called over her shoulder, nearly walking into the Dean of Medicine.
"Dr. Hadley, just the person I was coming to see."
"Dr. Cuddy if this about House-"
"No, Remy, it's not. I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved last night."
Hadley was wary. Cuddy never backed down, even when she knew she was wrong.
"Can we talk in my office?"
Eight am started with the usual routine of vitals check and the somewhat more annoying yet necessary leg groping. If he wasn't up yet, Greg would be by the time they were done.
"Cindy coming today?" He mumbled through the morning haze.
"She's planning on visiting, but HR is forcing her to take a few days off."
"Damn, she should be more careful."
The nurses chuckled with agreement. "One of us will be back to help you with breakfast, if you want."
"Not very hungry."
"You always say that, then eat everything."
"I'm trying to be a good boy so I can get out of here."
They giggled again, finding this patient utterly charming.
He wasn't sure if they were amused by his witty personality or the fact that they thought he was some mysterious character. He hadn't thought about it, but it had to be why he was getting so much attention. It was kind of nice being treated like a human being instead of an ogre.
Just then Cindy waked in. "Wow, you're alert and smiling."
"And you're -" It wasn't until she was at his bedside that he saw the black eye. "What the hell?"
"Went a couple of rounds with a middleweight and lost."
"One of your strays turn out to be a wino?"
"Something like that. How you doing?"
"Better." He couldn't help but stare at her shiner. "They're keeping out of work for that?"
"That and the fact that 160 pound guy fell on me. HR doesn't want a lawsuit, just to be sure I don't strain anything further." She pulled his breakfast closer and started prepping to feed him.
Greg tested the wrist restraints, remembering how he ended up this way. He stared at his hands for a few moments, a frown turning his cheer to uncertainty.
"What's wrong?" Cindy saw his mood change and stopped what she was doing.
"Nothing," he deflected, but his mind kept working the clues.
"Maybe I made a mistake coming here. It's upsetting you."
He just stared at her unable to access the memories that tried to come but fled as he was about to verbalize his thoughts. Greg just nodded his head, the confusion stressing his blood pressure.
Cindy didn't even say goodbye. She backed out of the room, afraid of what might happen next.
House closed his eyes. Although he couldn't remember what transpired during the EMG, he felt anxious that it had something to do with Cindy's on-the-job accident. It was no coincidence that he was a middleweight, 160 pound object that could have caused the damage.
His stomach churned acid. He didn't remember punching anybody or falling. But then again, he remembered Amber - and she wasn't even there. Nolan was right. He was a danger, if not to himself, then to others. How could he? Greg couldn't fathom what he had done.
It was like shouting across the hospital lobby that he had conquered Lisa Cuddy. Something was seriously wrong with him. If it wasn't Vicodin abuse, it could only mean he was losing his mind. Maybe Nolan already knew it. He had made the trip to Memorial to see for himself and he had left leaving Greg leashed to the bed. There was surely a room waiting for him at Mayfield once he was allowed to leave this place.
By the time he had resigned himself to turning to Wilson and Cuddy for help, Cindy reentered the room.
"Can I come in?"
Greg ignored her.
"I'm sorry. Thought someone told you what happened."
He emotionally distanced himself, tuning her out.
"It's not the first time anyone's ever lashed out while in pain. You were out of your mind - and I put you there." Her speech had started light heartedly, but Cindy couldn't help but feel responsible for his current physical and mental state.
"I came to tell you how sorry I am. I realize that you may not care that I care about you; but you need to know that I never meant to torture you."
Greg listened but continued the charade of ignoring her. He flexed his hands, over and over, feeling the wrist restraints against his skin. He couldn't help but wonder if he was glad or disappointed about being bound.
He had done something bad. Someone got hurt; and anytime that happened and he was to blame, his father's job was to dole out an appropriate punishment. The more severe the crime - well Machiavelli said it best. And Blythe House made it easier for her husband to get away with Machiavelli's other tenet: punishment with impunity.
It was so ingrained in Greg's cognitive processing, he was often unaware that he'd purposely went looking for fights - ones' he knew he would lose. When there was no one to get a physical pounding from, he'd inflict injury upon himself; some way, somehow, and often where no one could see the damage.
So was he disappointed he couldn't self-flagellate or glad to be spared the pain? He wasn't sure how he felt. He just knew that he was aware of how he was processing these thought patterns. Nolan would call it a tremendous breath through. And no doubt he should want to work through this particular issue with the psychiatrist, but it was too raw. The emotional upheaval it would cause by tearing down the barriers was something Greg was definitely not ready for. The fact that Nolan knew the ideation existed was enough.
"…Greg are you alright?" Cindy spent the last five minutes watching him. The storm clouds in his eyes scared her, but did not pose any threat. He appeared to be lost in his own personal hell, his face so full of emotion that an infinite sadness enveloped his entirety.
She grabbed his ever flexing hand in both of hers. "Whatever you're beating yourself up over needs to stop. You're a brilliant, gifted human being. All people who suffer genius tend to be tortured souls.
"If you're feeling guilty over what happened, I absolve you. I don't place any blame on you or anything connected with you."
Greg couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer. "I don't need your forgiveness."
"Can't you at least forgive yourself?" Cindy raised her eyebrows giving away the fact that she had his modus operandi.
"You make it really hard to sulk." He stopped flexing his and hand felt hers against the one she held. He wanted those strong arms wrapped around him, her hands rubbing his back while they explored each other intimately.
Cindy let go of his hand as if an electric shock jumped from him to her. She took a step back from the bed, not trusting herself. The longing in his eyes had tapped in to her yearning for companionship. It had been so long since she took an interest in another man that it was both exhilarating and intimidating. The fact that he was her patient was taboo.
"Why…what?" Greg wasn't sure what he had done to repel her.
Cindy felt she could burst into tears at any moment. "I'm sorry, Dr. House. It was inappropriate of me to behave the way I did just now." She left the room quickly.
The other shoe had fallen. He was once again Dr. House. She found out who he was and her perception and interactions with him were skewed because of it. So much for anonymity.