"I'm so coming back next year." I announced excitedly as I sipped on the glass of complimentary sparkling wine as I walked through the foyer. The conference ended with a dinner and dance fiasco on the last night; a final gathering fuelled by wine and steak. Taking the professional overtones of the night out of the equation a lot of wheeling and dealing went on here.
"It's been fun hasn't it? So many closets to choose from."
"Arizona!" We had both gotten ready together for the dinner, and she waited until we were in the presence of our peers before mentioning it. "So if Callie was here; you wouldn't have done the same thing?"
"You look nice; is that a new dress?"
"Ooh subtle." And it was a new dress; I had gone on a shopping trip specifically for everything, from the shoes up. It had taken my whole day off to find the perfect dress; I had played it safe with a black dress but it's floaty so the shortness of it didn't look slutty. Not that it would because it was only just above the knee. And it also the perfect amount of cleavage. The perfect dress. "You look pretty too."
"Thanks. Do you know where we're sat?" We walked into the dining hall and saw each table had a central place card with hospital logos on.
Spotting ours, the table half full already, we weaved through countless other tables. The room was bathed in a flattering soft yellow light; the golden hued chandeliers, hanging high above the tables, doing their job. The circular tables were draped in creamy white cloths, matching china dotted around in a regular pattern, silverware glinting in rows.
"Ladies." In an act I will probably never see again from a table of surgeons; they stood up in their tuxedos.
"Gentlemen." Arizona and I greeted them and sat down the same time they did. In this act of civility we all partook willingly, for once we didn't have patients' lives in our hands at that very moment. Teddy was obviously doing a crack job because the only pages I was receiving were to do with budget meetings and juicy gossip. Of course she was; she's been doing the job longer than I have.
"Hey; Mark." He arrived with several bottles of other things than wine; putting them on the table near us before kissing me. "Whiskey?"
"They were on an empty table." He bragged.
"Nice job; which hospital are we stealing from?" I asked cautiously.
"It doesn't matter; enjoy." He poured huge glasses for the occupants of the table and the bottles were gone. I knew he felt guilty, or that the table wasn't exactly deserted because he hid the bottles under our table. "Enjoy it." He picked up my drink and out it into my hand.
"Are you trying to get me drunk? Or are you trying to get rid of the evidence?" I inquired with a smile.
The evening started with messages from the organisers and sponsors, a couple of speeches and a few words about people who had passed away. It was pretty standard stuff that we all had to suffer through at every conference or charity dinner; it washes over us all old timers, it was a good time to spot the virgins. They have fresh faces, have barely taken a sip of their drink and listen attentively to every word.
I looked around the room to try and spot them but my eyes found a face I never wanted to see again. "Oh crap." I muttered.
"What?" Will looked up from the whiskey in his hand.
"Nothing. Well, I just saw someone."
"Who made you crap?" He asked loudly.
"Oh my god Will; did you drink in your room?" I could smell vodka seeping out of his pores.
"No. Yes. Yes I did. I drank the mini-bar." Will fumbled. His eyes were still focusing so he wasn't too far gone yet.
"Who did you see?" Mark cut in.
"You have my whiskey." His voice made chills leap down my spine; they pounded every vertebra hard.
"Who are you?" Mark ordered. I knew who it was; and they others might not; they might know him by name but probably not by sight. He had turned around to question him. Brave.
"This is Dr Gregory House." I answered for him. I felt Mark tense instantly in my hand. I didn't even turn around; Mark and Will knew what had happened to me.
"Tell me what happened." Mark's fingers waved over the scar below my left collarbone. We had spent hours of our day off in bed; naked, hot and together. "I know you don't want to."
"I do want to. I want to tell you. But I want you to know that I left it behind in New Jersey." I advised.
"I understand." We were at opposite ends of the bed and I didn't move because it made it easier not to see his face.
"House and I dated for a while." I heard him snort and shuffle uncomfortably; pulling the sheets awkwardly. "We had problems; he had some severe issues about intimacy and was emotionally stunted."
"I'm those things." He stated coolly.
"Ha! Not even close Mark. You're emotional and intimate in your own way; in a way that doesn't hurt." I took a few breaths and opened up my big old set of baggage. "He used to be addicted to Vicodin; but he did rehab and got off them, but he chose alcohol instead. He chose alcohol over me and I didn't see it. I'm a doctor and I couldn't diagnose alcoholism." I wanted Mark to say something reassuring but he didn't have the words. "I had my own problems off the back of Iraq and it clouded my judgement; it got to the point where he let a patient die."
"Hunt has scars; so does Teddy, and you know Will does too." He comforted me with well chosen words.
"After his drinking killed a three year old child I tackled him; I went to his apartment I poured away every drop of alcohol in there. But he came back and caught me doing it." I remembered the terror I felt. His team was on the verge of diagnosing the case but House had disappeared.
"What happened?" He gently pushed me. I didn't realise but I had stopped talking; I hadn't even broached this with my therapist yet. "Keep going." He grabbed my hand and didn't let go.
"He came at me from behind as I was getting rid of a bottle of whiskey. I remember the bottle; it had a red and blue label on it that had almost peeled off. I was shouting at him; telling him that I was saving him, but he didn't want to hear it so he struck me across the back of my head with his cane."
Mark's grip on me tightened. "Just keep going." He felt me try to sit up.
"It knocked me out and I woke up on the bathroom floor; he was sat in the bath tub drinking a new bottle. I got up and dragged him out and took the bottle out of his hand and smashed it on the floor. Then we fought; I can't remember what happened exactly but I can remember seeing a scalpel in his hand." His grip was so tight; I was struggling to keep the tears back. "And then I was on the floor with a scalpel in my chest."
"Oh Poppy." His two words of kindness broke the barrier that my tears were hiding behind. His voice was cracking so I knew I wasn't the only one.
"I wasn't found for three hours. He drugged me with a paralytic before he left. I don't know if he wanted me to die; I don't think he did, but he contained me. He wanted the control back." We lay in silence for hours holding each others' hands; not wanting to move for fear it would trigger a huge emotional response that neither of us could deal with.
"You're Dr House?" Derek asked incredulously, looking above me into his face; he knew the watered down version. "We've heard some interesting things about you." I had told Derek a few things; but not enough for him to question my mental capacity.
"Where's my whiskey?" He demanded. Hearing him talk about alcohol made me shake; but Mark kept holding my hand to calm me down.
"It's gone." Mark answered him through polite but gritted teeth. I jumped a little too high when House's hand appeared at my left side and went to take hold of my still full glass.
"No; this is mine." He was persistent.
"We'll replace it." Will stood up from the table and faced up to House. "No." Will's voice wobbled. "No." I turned around in time to see him leave. I had no idea as to what had just happened but I knew it was something to do with House; it always is. It was my turn to do something but my legs wouldn't allow me to face him so I went to find Will.
I found him in a bathroom stall in the men's' room. As doctors we're not that shocked to see the opposite sex in the bathroom; it's either for a crisis or sex. "Will; what's going on?" I hadn't seen what he had. I carefully tip toed across the tiles floor; I had peep-toes on and I wasn't about to risk my health.
"I saw him." A small voice floated over the cubicle.
"Saw who?" I matched his voice.
"Him; my brother." He squeezed the utterance out.
"Robert's here?" Oh no; my heart leapt out of my mouth, Will couldn't find out that I knew Robert. "With House?" Did he know? He had to, that's why he did this.
"I can't see him." He breathed.
"I know; what do you want me to do?" I offered. Their relationship disintegrated when the family split up; Will left with their father Rowan and Robert stayed with their mother. I knew that their mother had been an alcoholic and went into a psychosis before dying; and that their father died of lung cancer several years ago. Will found out when he was in Iraq; and it was especially hard on him because they were so close. A lot, if not all, of the animosity between them stemmed from the choices their parents made; Will definitely had the easier ride as Robert had to deal with the mother, but there was a lot of residual guilt left in him for leaving his brother behind.
"I can't see him." He pleaded.
"Okay; I don't mind hanging out in a men's bathroom."