Quickest update ever, yo =) hope to be like this the whole week. Read, Review, Enjoy!
Tuesday, February 10th
There was darkness. He knew there was darkness as he staggered forward in the hazy, shapeless hall. He was cautious with every step, almost scared he would fall in; the heavy steps and creaks of the flow beneath him were taunting, teasing…mocking. He ran the tips of his fingers against the walls beside him, realizing how narrow the hall was as his arms extended, had to trail behind him as he walked further along. When he reached an edge he turned, suspecting a sharp corner—and there it was.
A sliver of light, lie ahead at the end of what seemed to be the longest corridor, lying against the floor and escaping from a closed door. He knew he had to open it. Why else would he be there?
Inching closer, he felt his nerves begin to dance, a cloak of anxiety thrown over him the closer he came to reaching the handle of the door. When he arrived at the end, he pressed himself against the door and sought for the handle, but there was none. There was only the door, and the light from the door. He started to beat the door, hoping maybe it was defective, but it wouldn't budge.
He soon began to realize the longer he stayed outside of the door, the faster he would lose his breath. He began to ration each inhalation as he looked for ways to open the door. Yet, the more energy exerted, the more air he also lost. Surely enough, his oxidation began to drop, and he found himself stumbling to the ground. His face fell towards the bottom of the door, and he saw a vague silhouette. He made out a familiar hand reaching out of the white brightness, and under the door to touch him—
Crash. House's eyes split open. He could feel his body starting to release from the tenseness he had just previously been feeling, and the heat of his skin cooling as perspiration formed on every inch. It took him about five more seconds thereafter to realize and process the sound that awoke him, which he also began to realize followed by waking up Aj, starting off the day with his grating cries of detest. He sat up to reach for his son and calm him down as he went out of the bedroom to investigate the sound.
He correlated the echoes to the kitchen acoustics and started there, only to run into Wilson right before he came out of the hallway. Wilson had a look of embarrassment mixed with concern as he held baby formula and a bottle in his hands.
"Morning," Wilson said fast.
"Morning," House replied louder over Aj's calmed cries. They just stood there as House bounced Aj up and down to quiet him. It was a moment full of long stares and speechlessness. Wilson finally gave in.
"It's already twelve o'clock. I got worried, sorry." He defended. House gave him a look and Wilson gestured at his watch, and then the wall clock.
"Fair enough," he said grabbing the half full bottle from Wilson. They both walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
"How did you sleep in so long? Hamilton called me. You know she's still expecting you?"
"No, I just thought she really liked me, I didn't know I had to get back to her right away," he replied sarcastically. "This one was apparently having bloody nightmares of Cuddy's vagina last night, on the account of how much sleep I lost."
"You sure that wasn't your nightmare?" Wilson asked. House hesitated, and re-thought about what Wilson said.
"God, you two are talking now?" he exclaimed.
"We have been. I told you, I set this up, and you don't think I know what's going on? You don't think I'm talking to the people you're dealing with?" he asked with a repetitive tone. "So you aren't avoiding these sessions, right?"
"I might if you keep pressing me about them." Wilson replied with a reproachful look. "I over-slept, Wilson!" he exclaimed. "Good God man. I do one thing and it's like—oh, massacre!"
"Hey, I'm only trying to look out for you, I mean. I know things aren't the easiest at the moment. You have to understand, me over everyone else is the most concerned right now. And I'm getting married this Saturday—"
"Did I not tell you to go take care of that? Did I not just say this last night?"
"Fine, fine. If that's how you feel about it—"
"Oh don't start with me this early, Wilson. It's Tuesday…why would you be doing this on a Tuesday. It's not the party. It's not the rehearsal. It's definitely not the wedding if I still have the ability to recollect." Wilson was now teasing, slowly walking towards the door with his jacket. "What the hell did I miss on a Tuesday…besides work?" he turned his head and looked at Wilson opening the door.
"You can suffer trying to figure it out. That'll be your punishment," he said with half a grin before it disappeared behind the door. Seeing it motion reminded him of the dream again, this repeating dream that wouldn't go away…and suddenly his annoyance level shot up out of his head as a headache began to grow inside. He painfully looked down at his son who was already eying him, holding onto his fingers.
"Don't look at me like that. I don't want you doing that too," He stood up and raised Aj up to readjust his position, and carried him toward the bathroom. "I get more than enough of that from your beloved," he muttered to him.
"Aw, look who showed up." Hamilton watched House walk in and settle down with Aj on the chair, setting the car seat with him sleeping, beside it.
"I had to bring him. He's such a tag-a-long, you know, the clingy type."
"Did you go to work today?" she ignored his remarks about the boy as she refocused toward the session. He shook his head.
"Overslept. I should've gone though. I've kept a low profile at work for the past couple weeks."
"Intentionally I'm assuming, because of everything going on?"
"My kiddies are big now. They know how to handle themselves in the work place without me for a little while." She paused and pondered his sentence. "What?" he asked when she hesitated to respond.
"It's interesting…that you refer to them as your kiddies."
"It's interesting that you find everything I say, to be interesting. But you don't see me acknowledging it every time you utter interesting." He said annoyed. She smiled slightly and just looked at him. "Go on," he muttered.
"Do you see yourself only as a mentor? Do you consider them family, friends even?"
"It's a nickname. It's just grown on me for the past…nearly decade or so."
"So your fellows have been with you for quite some time, yes?"
"It depends on whom you talk to. Some I've had for four, five years. Some I've had for over ten."
"I didn't ask you how long. I asked if you think they've been with you for a long time."
"It's irrelevant. Time is just a number. It holds no significance for me. What they've done, what they've achieved, that's all that matters."
"You don't think the amount of time you've been with them, around them, so many hours a week…none of that amounts to the significance of their relationship with you?" he hesitated with an unchanged face.
"No. The existing relationship is an employer-employee basis, and with more years they've become more experienced and better trained but that's all that succumbs from the amount of time they've put in."
"Okay then, suppose their life was on the line. This is of course rhetorical because it's already happened several times before, but suppose it. How would you approach it if and only if it is really just an employer-employee relationship?" he just stared at her, completely annoyed at her questionnaire. Maybe she was more annoying than he gave her credit for.
"I would work in the best of my ability to save their life. Basic doctoral instincts. I'd assume you know where I'm coming from, but a sociologist…well." He ended somewhat snarky.
"Define the 'best of your ability'. Because in the hospital records and from certain other sources it's said you've pushed the boundaries so far they've actually snapped before. What's that?" she replied in an accusing tone. "It's not wrong to care about people, House. But apparently you believe it so. You've made it a way of life to secure a ten foot radius of enclosed space, guarded with firearms and a trench as you stand back, arms-length from the pit itself. You enforce defensive isolation, which is common in traumatized children."
"Common doesn't mean it's definitively me," He spoke sharp with eyes averted and a lean forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs.
"If it's not the time—" Hamilton began.
"Yep," he cut her off fast. She only nodded and threw him a smile to let him know she understood him. She let a silence pass by before she tried speaking again, but he started to talk. "I don't say it out loud, because then it's tangible. It becomes more real when you can hear it being said. When you start to care for someone, you also start risking the chances of losing someone, always. If you don't care, you can say you haven't lost anything. I don't care. I look out for them because they are my employees. They're my team. I have to be concerned about their welfare, because they're good doctors. That of which isn't an excuse, it's a proven fact. I'm always poking into their personal agendas. Primarily for entertainment, to humor myself, however, I also become knowledgeable about them. What kind of boss would I be—" he broke off, not daring to finish the sentence. "I'm crazy, that's a fact. I'm an ass, also fact. It's my reputation, to those outside. But those who know me—and by know me, I mean know me-they've learned to decipher my actions, what's good and bad, when, and even when firsthand it looks bad."
"You rationalize anything you possibly can, don't you? No wonder you always get away with what you want," she spoke mildly impressed.
"It's the truth. Why should I be swayed wrong if I tell the truth? Why should I be afraid if I have the truth on my side?"
"You can't know the truth 100 percent of the time, House."
"I didn't say I did. I ally with truth because I get right. I get right a lot when I do such. Which in the end, ultimately also gives me another reason to—" he stopped himself, unsure really of where he was going before he brought his attention to the perfectly timed, fussing Aj. He picked him up from the car seat and laid him on his lap, allowing him to slouch on his abdomen.
"Aj?" she asked.
"Arthur James," he replied. "Arthur was her father."
"Is it Jewish tradition—?"
"No, I—I…I asked her to," he said falling into a daze. "I met him…in one of my dreams." He was starting to fall into a lethargic state—his explanation of his meeting with Arthur not making him sound any better—slurring his words, as his head began to sway back. Hamilton darted for Aj before House could loosen his grip, and he shot back up in alarm, completely bewildered at how they both had gotten from point A, talking, to point B, their current positions.
"You need to sleep. Get out of here," she said with her eyes fixed on his. He was so confused; he almost seemed helpless as he sat before her. She sighed at the sight of him."I can't have you drive back like this," she said carefully setting Aj into the car seat. "Stan' up. Up, come on!" she directed at him. She took him by the arms and pulled him upward to his feet. Afterward, she walked to her desk to pull her bag out of her drawer, and walked back over to them.
"You awake now, House? Can you hear me?" she spoke loudly. He was mildly responsive; she took no chances. She pulled out her keys, picked up the car seat and they walked out of her office, locking up after.
"I can still drive, Hamilton." He managed to gather some words.
"You never told me you do stand-up, I'd love to see your show one time, but I think I'm getting a personal viewing right now." She shoved him in the car, and fixed the backseat seatbelt to Aj's car seat.
Within minutes they were on the road, Hamilton frequently looking back at Aj, and then studying House to evaluate his mental status.
"Is this really necessary?" House asked hazy.
"Seeing as you're barely coherent and a couple levels dropped from ass, then the correct response would be yes."
"If you think this is bad, then you really haven't seen much as a sociologist have you…?" he trailed off, looking out the window.
"I didn't say that, I've probably seen worse, but it's been a while since this has happened. Go sleep, House. Trust me, you need it—desperately." Before he could even hear her, he had drifted off to sleep. Hamilton debated whether he was just sleep deprived, or his underlying stress was bagged heavier than she thought. She contemplated what was going to come next, harder, and faster.
House slept the whole ride home.