Part Three
House knew he was spiralling into a deep depression, he recognised the signs but instead of fighting, he submitted and allowed the darkness to envelop him.
Every second he replayed that kiss, the thoughts began to ruminate and fester in his head, dominating his mind and spilling over into his everyday life. Food and drinks didn't taste like they should, with every mouthful he tasted her, sun-ripened fruits instead of bitter acrid coffee.
He would run his tongue and fingertips over his cheeks and lips but still the imprint of her remained. The scratches down his back where she had branded him, still open and raw, he welcomed the sting when he stood under the scalding hot shower, wanting them to scar and remain a part of him forever.
He knew he had replaced one addiction with another and he didn't care. All he cared about was her.
"She kissed me… well I initiated it but we kissed each other."
Nolan merely nodded and made a subtle note, "and how do you feel about that?"
"How do I feel about that? Kisses are good things."
House closed his eyes and ran the tip of tongue over his lips, instantly his brain was flooded with a kaleidoscope of images of the two of them embracing. Of Jo finally in his arms, the heat and feel of her body clutching at his and her breathy plea hot against his ear, "please Greg…"
Nolan remained silent, studying and taking note of the silent House, of the unconscious body language and reading between the lines of his admission.
"House, how do you really feel about what transpired between you and Jo?"
Nolan's words shattered his rumination and House reluctantly opened his eyes.
"That's a loaded question. How do I feel? It was perfect, I couldn't have planned it better if I'd tried. The moment, the music, her lips…"
"Okay…"
House glared at Nolan, "that was a loaded okay."
"Not at all, why would you assume that?"
"You're being judgemental. If I had said that I'd had some delicious Chilean sea bass for dinner last night, would you say 'and how do you feel about that?'"
"If the sea bass was dating your best friend, yes I would."
That comment stung, forcing House to swallow down the hot lump of guilt lodged in his throat.
"See I know you House, how your mind works and I know you've spent the last 18 hours stewing, ruminating about that kiss, about holding Jo, about touching Jo. But she still walked away, she's still dating Wilson…"
"You don't think I know that?!" House roared, slamming his balled fist down on the coffee table between himself and Nolan. "You don't think that guilt is eating me up inside?! I've been biting my tongue, suppressing how I feel and I'm done fighting it. I'm in love with her, I would sooner go through the pain of Vicodin withdrawal than be without her. And I had her damnit!"
He slammed his fist down again needing to vent what the words couldn't. "I held her in my arms, I kissed her with all the love I felt for her and she kissed me back! She told me she wants me just as much as I want her!"
He slumped back into the chair, drained from his emotional outburst.
"I saw the look in her eyes, felt the way she kissed me and yet she still walked away. It's not fair, none of this is fucking fair."
Nolan leaned forward towards the now defeated House. "House, at some point you have to realise you're fighting a losing battle. If that moment you had shared with Jo meant as much to her as it does to you, she would've ended things with Wilson. She didn't. She's still with him, she's moving forward. The sooner you accept that she's with Wilson, the sooner you can begin to move on from her."
House let the words sink in, processed each one until he looked Nolan in the eye and slowly shook his head.
"A couple of years ago, my ex Stacy turned up at the hospital wanting me to treat her husband. Before I knew it, Cuddy had her employed and I found myself pining for what I used to have. I had five years with Stacy, I fell in love with her, I lived with her and had it not been for my leg I guess we would still be together. But what I felt for her compared to Jo is night and day. So no, I'm not giving up on Jo, on us and what we could be. I don't care if my chances are slimmer than that of a catwalk model, I want her and I'm gonna fight for her."
In the back of his mind Nolan hoped he was wrong, House deserves some happiness, whether that be by some miracle making things work with Jo or with someone else if he allowed himself to move on. Either way it was the emotional and loving aspect that wasn't there through friendship alone that House so desperately needed in his life.
-x-x-x-
The session with Nolan left House completely withdrawn, although he should've probably taken some time to decompress, he rode over to the hospital only a mere hour later than he was due to start. Lost in his thoughts, his legs carried him the habitual journey to the elevators and up to his office where he promptly collapsed into the welcoming embrace of his lounge chair without so much as a glance towards his team busy bouncing diagnosis ideas for their latest patient.
He closed his eyes and allowed his subconscious to take him away to his happy place. Of course she was there, whenever he closed his eyes she was there, because in the sanctity of his overactive imagination they could be together with no issues. There was no Wilson holding them back.
Running his fingers through her hair making her purr indulgently and lean into his touch. Eyes locked, her delicate fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open revealing his body to her hungry gaze. Without taking her eyes off his, with her index finger, she deliberately scratched the letter J across his left pectoral over the prominent beat of his heart.
"Mine."
"Yours. I'm yours."
He kissed her again with renewed fervor, his hands went to her thighs lifting and crushing her against his body, letting her feel his true appreciation.
"Fuck, House…" She growled against his lips, rutting in his arms grinding their hips together.
"Say it again."
"House…"
House…
House…
"House!" Chase all but yelled in his face, startling him awake from his dreams with a jolt and growl of annoyance. "Are you taking part in this DDx or should we carry on alone?"
He glared at the Australian with pure venom and distaste in his eyes, unsure whether or not to slap the young doctor into the next week for disturbing such an amazing dream. He relented from violence and eased himself up from the comfort of his lounge chair and followed the disgruntled duckling back through to the main room.
Without asking, Thirteen poured him a fresh mug of strong, lightly sweetened coffee and placed it alongside a copy of their new patient's annotated charts.
He flipped the page open and began scanning the notes, bringing himself up to speed with the case. The hot steam and aroma of the coffee wafted up with every turn of the page, clouding his senses and before he knew it, he was ruminating again.
His team and the office around him became shapeless, blurred and grey. The voices and office hubbub became nothing but white noise.
There was only one point of clarity, her.
The team felt a sense of deja vu seeing House staring off into space, he was physically present but mentally and emotionally he was completely vacant. They tried to ignore the elephant in the room so to speak, and continue the DDx as they normally would. But all four of the team felt a collective sense of impending fear, House was clearly on a downward spiral.
"Look, we're getting nowhere with him." Chase abruptly stood up from the table and grabbed the patient's file "Let's just go get Cuddy to authorise the test."
House remained oblivious as the team dispersed, leaving him sitting alone at the table, still staring off into the void savouring his thoughts.
-x-x-x-
The sound of her office door bursting open with some much as a knock, made Cuddy sigh in annoyance. It was one of her biggest pet peeves, but as she geared herself up to tear the unwanted visitor a new one, the sight of Chase and Thirteen made her pause for breath.
"What's he done now?"
"Nothing and that's the problem." Chase handed over the patient's file to Cuddy, "We need you to authorise this treatment."
Cuddy scan read the notes before looking up at the ducklings with disdain, "you barged in here to get me to sign this, why, when House was right there?"
"He's gotten worse, it's like seeing him in those bad weeks prior to him going to Mayfield."
"Shit…" Cuddy whispered, her stomach lurched at the notion, "is it possible he's using again?"
"Hard to say, but he's definitely not himself. He just seems so vacant, absent minded. Something's clearly bothering him."
"Okay." Cuddy signed off the papers with a flourish and held them up for Chase. "There's a chance that House is just having trouble adjusting and is a little overwhelmed being back into the routine of work. But in case I'm wrong or until we know otherwise, I would appreciate it if you would keep an eye on House. Try talking to him but don't force it or make it obvious you're worried or keeping tabs. The last thing we need is him relapsing. In the meantime, I'll have a word with Wilson. Fingers crossed it's nothing more than him being in a bad mood."
The ducklings nodded and left the room. Once the door closed, Cuddy sighed deeply and let her head rest against the stack of papers on her desk, terrified to acknowledge the fact House could be on a vicious downward spiral.
-x-x-x-
The rest of the day is a blur for House and before he realised it or fully grasped the sense of the time, it was gone 6pm. The team was nowhere to be seen and there was nothing keeping him there, so he packed up his rucksack and headed back to Wilson's.
As the Repsol Honda rolled up behind the sedate Volvo of Wilson's, House scanned the area and spotted Jo's car parked across the street.
"Fuck…" He whispered to himself as he dismounted and snatched his cane from its clasps.
He hobbled his way inside trying to mentally prepare and steel himself for how to play things with Jo. Be nice and be civil would be the obvious, but as he walked into the living room his blood ran cold seeing her and Wilson cuddled up together on the couch.
Like rubbing salt in the wound, he felt sick seeing them together. Part of him wanted to tear the apartment up, to physically vent his frustrations and rip Wilson limb from limb for having his arm around her.
Jo spotted him first, hearing the thump thump of his cane on the hardwood floor. She was barely able to meet his steely gaze for fear of combusting. Her cheeks blushed as she nestled in closer to Wilson, who remained oblivious to the simmering tension between them and addressed House as he normally would with a sympathetic smile.
"Hey, we're just about to watch a movie if you want to join?"
House dropped his rucksack down heavily, "which one?" He replied, trying to convey an air of nonchalance.
"Bridget Jones' Diary, it's Jo's favourite."
Jo pulled away from her resting spot against Wilson's chest to look him in the eye, "James, you didn't have to do that. I meant what I said, I really don't mind what we watch."
"I know, but I know how much you love it…"
Wilson's hand cupped her blushing cheeks as he leaned in kissing her softly and nuzzled at her cheek. Such a sweet action and it tore House apart. His eyes met Jo's, staring at her with such intensity, such unwarranted lust and barely hidden disappointment, she was powerless to look away.
She nestled back down against Wilson's chest but her eyes, full of longing and sorrow, never left House's. The guilt for wanting him while being in the arms of her boyfriend, his best friend no less, was tearing her apart.
"House, what do you think? Chick flick film, it could be fun."
He kept his eyes on Jo as he answered, "no thanks. I don't like being a third wheel."
He spat it with such venom, such bitterness, the temperature of the room plummeted. He knew it was wrong, an asshole move but he couldn't help it. He just wanted to inflict and project just a fraction of the pain that he was feeling deep inside.
Wilson and Jo were left reeling, Jo in particular. She blinked back the rush of tears that threatened to fall as House slammed his bedroom door closed. Even though she was still snuggled up to Wilson with her favourite movie playing in the background, her heart and her mind remained with House in the other room.
-x-x-x-
The next morning his mood hadn't lightened up at all. He had laid in his bed staring at the ceiling for hours, he didn't even remember falling asleep. He knew he was being an asshole, a jealous and extremely petty asshole. But he couldn't help it. He had never felt this way before, it was all new, completely foreign to him and that combined with recovering from a mental episode hadn't helped.
Even though the rational side of his brain told him to snap out of it, his stubbornness refused to let go and it remained as he prepared himself some breakfast. Using the last of the milk, the last of the eggs and leaving the kitchen in an utter state in one more act of sheer spite before he left for the hospital without so much as a backwards glance.
The sound of his office door swinging open and heavy footsteps approaching his desk made House sigh and mentally steel himself. Even with his eyes closed and facing the other direction, he knew it was Wilson and knew damn well why he was there without him having to say the words.
"Are you out of your mind?"
House swivelled round on his office chair to face his disgruntled friend, "as a former psychiatric patient, I take offence to that terminology."
That should've made Wilson tone it down a bit, but he was frustrated and wanted to get to the bottom of House's odd behaviour.
"Last night you were downright rude to me and Jo, then this morning you left the kitchen looking like a tornado had come through. Have I done something to piss you off?"
"No more than usual." House shrugged, hoping that was the end of it.
"Then why the hell are you acting this way?! I'm used to you being hot and cold, but there was no need to be a jerk and cold towards Jo, she was so upset last night." That stirred something in House but he remained impassive. "You need to make more of an effort with her!" Oh no… "She's important to me and I want you two to get along."
The triggered House, opening a Pandora's box deep inside him that once opened, he couldn't hold back.
"Maybe I should buy her some flowers, huh? Or, or maybe I should make her dinner? Would that make her feel better, a nice dinner and flowers? How about I tell her she's the woman of my dreams, that I can't stop thinking about her...That every second of every day, she's all that's on my mind and that I love her? Would that make it all better?"
Wilson glared at him and shook his head like a disappointed parent would, "quit being a jerk, House."
-x-x-x-
A couple of weeks go by and although House is nowhere near being himself, he's recognisable, though it's a shadow of his former self. He's quiet, more reserved, his sarcasm had been toned down drastically, so much so Chase and Foreman began referring to him as Diet House.
It was when he heard that nickname that the sarcastic House everyone knew and feared reemerged, and boy did he come back with a vengeance.
But those hot flashes of his former self remained just that, flashes. Fleeting glimpses. Never did the staff of PPTH, especially Cuddy, think they would miss that cantankerous son of a bitch. But they did.
Thirteen especially noted the change in House but unlike her colleagues who all jumped to the conclusion that he was struggling due to addiction and possible relapse. She studied House and recognised something else, he was hurting but also pining, but for who or what she couldn't figure out.
So when the opportunity arose to talk to him, she took it with both hands.
"Who is she?"
His jaw threatened to drop open hearing the words, but he managed to cover it with a nonchalant shrug and brief shake of his head. Wishful thinking on his part hoping that his lack of bite at her question would appease his duckling enough to leave it well alone.
"Okay, he then."
"You're the token bisexual on the team, not me."
He tried to refocus his attention on the patient's file in front of him but he could feel himself faltering under his junior doctors' unwavering stare. She knew he was hiding something, battling an inner conflict and she would wait until he spilled his troubles before they ate him up.
"You're really not gonna let this drop are you?"
"'Fraid not, you taught us that everyone lies. Stop lying to yourself and tell me what's bugging you."
He shook his head, "I can't…"
"House, the team thinks you're using again. Cuddy has Chase keeping tabs on you, convinced that he'll be able catch you necking Vicodin when our backs are turned. I know it's not that what's upsetting you, but whatever it is, you need to deal with it. I've confided in you, albeit reluctantly about my stuff, I'm returning the favour. Talk."
The pained sigh House let out tugged at Thirteen's heartstrings, he looked broken with the weight of the world resting upon his shoulders.
"Jo…" He whispered, his voice no more than a low growl, "Her name's Jo...she's Wilson's girlfriend."
She stayed silent for a few moments, merely offering a sympathetic nod and small smile, reassuring House there would be no judgement on her part.
"I wish I was back on drugs instead of being stuck in this rut." He slumped back into his chair, "I'm a bad man."
Thirteen didn't recognise the words nor the man in front of her, the word fragile sprung to mind, something she never associated with House.
"I know you always want the hard facts and details, but there's one thing you can never predict or reason and that's being in love. You're not a bad guy, House. "
"I know I'm not a good friend, a good friend doesn't fall in love with his best friend's girl."
"House… wanna come with me to a lesbian bar? The drink's on me."
He carefully mulled over the offer before making a counter one, "will you make out with a girl for my entertainment? It would be the perfect distraction for my troubled mind."
"I'll think about it."
The Foxhole was something of lesbian heaven and the stuff of fantasy. If it wasn't for the fact he was madly in love with Jo, House would've been openly drooling over the stunning women that fluttered around him and Thirteen. Like bees around honey, she was irresistible, and despite her offer to buy him a drink, she had yet to open her purse all night.
They fell into an easy conversation about their colleagues, most notably Taub and his inability to remain faithful to his wife.
"He says he loves her but he needs to have sex with other women." Just saying those words made House shake his head in disbelief. Taub was an enigma and despite appearances, he certainly had a way when it came to women.
"Yes, and it sucks what he's doing to her but it's not as though he's trying to deny who he really is, he just has to-."
"Deny his biological imperative." House cut in before taking a slug of beer.
"It is easier to say no to dessert than to pretend you don't eat."
"Says someone who's obviously never been on a diet."
"My life's a breeze…" She said it with such sass, yet it was so thinly veiled it barely hid her inner fear.
"You're successful, smart and you attract everything that moves. If you wanna focus on the fact that you're not gonna see 50, that's your choice."
"You know what? I agree with you. My self pity's optional. What about yours?"
He couldn't look her in the eye, choosing to instead focus on peeling the label off his beer bottle. "My issues don't revolve around dying at 50 or infidelity."
"That's because you're 51 and not technically with anyone."
House recoiled as though shot, dramatically clutching at his chest for effect. "Ooh hit me where it hurts why don't you?"
"Okay, how about this? If it came down to it and you had to choose, Wilson or Jo, one or the other. Could you?"
"Irrelevant. Not answering it."
She caught the split-second flash of guilt in his steely blue eyes, "that's because you've already thought about it. You'd pick Jo wouldn't you?"
He met her questioning look, "I told you I'm a bad friend, let's just leave it at that."
"I can't believe it. You would really choose her over Wilson?"
"I would pick her over Vicodin. If having her meant just that and I wasn't a doctor and didn't have a friend, I'd do it. That's how much she means to me."
"As romantic declarations go it's a little unconventional…"
House held his now empty beer bottle up and pointed it over her shoulder. "Enough of this, you're boring me now. Go and make out with that hot chick over there."
-x-x-x-
Despite the muted change in House's self, he was at least on tentative talking terms with Jo again. Though neither had talked about it, they had somehow come to a mutual conclusion to remain civil for the sake of Wilson. There were moments of awkwardness, moments that made them want the floor to swallow them whole but they somehow pushed past it.
But it didn't stop House from pining, if anything, it was like he was pining from beyond a glass window looking in. He'd tasted the forbidden fruit, now she would remain so close and yet so far.
He could look, admire and pine for her but she would forever remain out of reach.
After his little confessional talk with Thirteen and her disclosing the fear and worry amongst the team about his potential relapse, House had managed to tone things down in the office. Granted, he wasn't himself still but at least he cooperated in cases and was bearable to be around.
Every so often Thirteen would give him a nod, a subtle query instead of asking "are you okay?" House appreciated the gesture more than he could say, it felt like he had an ally.
But while House's mood had improved, Wilson's seemed to be fluctuating in a way that House couldn't quite put his finger on. It was quite possibly nothing of concern, but every so often House would get a snippet, a fleeting glimpse of the Wilson of old, the one who found solace in seducing nurses with his pantie-peeler ways. He hoped he was wrong, for Jo's sake if nothing else.
Like a detail in a complex case that didn't quite make sense, House couldn't drop it, he couldn't shake the feeling something was going on with Wilson. The gnawing feeling in his gut began to spread and plague his mind, he had to satisfy his curiosity and put his fears to bed.
Taking a breath of fresh air on his balcony, House peered around the corner to the adjoining one of Wilson's. A gust of wind flickered the closed blinds enough to reveal Wilson locked in a passionate embrace with a blonde-haired nurse.
It was a punch to the gut for House, his whole body became enveloped in white-hot rage. How could he do that to Jo?!
But his rage soon turned to disappointment, then to guilt. What was he to do? Did he tell Jo what he had seen and ruin her relationship and consequently his friendship with Wilson? Or did he confront his best friend?
He felt torn between following his head and his heart.
However, he wasn't the only one who had noticed the subtle changes in Wilson's demeanor, Jo had picked up on it too. And after getting the faintest whiff of an unfamiliar perfume on Wilson's collar one too many times, Jo trusted her gut instincts and found the evidence of his infidelity on his phone in the form of a sordid text exchange.
She felt sick to the stomach with anger but also a strange sense of guilt. What right did she really have to confront Wilson when she herself had kissed another man, not just any man but Wilson's best friend no less.
But the longer she left it, the longer she stewed and dwelled on knowing of Wilson's infidelity, her body began to rebel and couldn't fight it any more.
Jo did her best to keep herself composed and portray her usual happy self, especially while House was there. But it was only a matter of time before she snapped.
She hadn't intended on causing a scene, but Wilson acting as though he was the model boyfriend, kissing and cuddling her like nothing was wrong, pulled the trigger as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders on the couch.
"Who is she?"
From his spot on the couch opposite, House watched Wilson pale a little and mentally juggle how to answer and what route he was going to take.
"Jo, I don't know what you're talking about."
She recoiled from him at that point, anger and adrenaline coursing through her veins and fuelling her movements.
"Don't. Don't you dare insult my intelligence, James. The way you've been acting has been all off, not to mention the perfume on your collar and the texts on your phone."
Wilson sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing or fighting it, he was bang to rights. He knew it, Jo knew it, even House knew it.
"I can't bear to look at you right now."
Both men watched her fighting tears as she hastily grabbed her jacket and anything else she recognised as her own, not wanting to spend another second around Wilson. He didn't put up a fight, words failed him at that moment. He could feel the heat of House's intense blue glare, judging him for not reacting, for not fighting for Jo.
In what felt like a heartbeat split second, the apartment door slammed shut and Jo was gone.
"Fuck…" Wilson whispered, letting his head slump forward and rest in his palms.
The silence in the room became deafening, the vein in House's neck pulsating with sheer disbelief and anger at his friend's actions.
"What were you thinking?"
Wilson held up his hand to try and calm him down, "House, don't. Please. Not right now."
"No, answer me. What the fuck were you thinking?"
House was really fired up now, the words were in motion and like a freight train with no brakes, there was no stopping him. He loomed menacingly over Wilson who remained slumped and downcast on the couch.
"Talk to me, Wilson. You've got the perfect woman and somehow she's enough for you. Maybe you should be locked up in Mayfield, huh?"
"House, it's not like that. Anyway, why do you care so much? Not two weeks ago, you couldn't stand to talk to her, so why are you suddenly jumping to her defence?"
That response caught House off-guard and Wilson spotted the chink in his steely armour.
"Wait a minute," Wilson leaned forward, pressing home his advantage as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, "do you like Jo?"
For such a simple question it had the same effect as a right hook to the gut and sent House reeling back, it would've been less painful to just kick him in his damaged thigh. His greatest vulnerability was Jo and now the wound was exposed to the elements.
His silence spoke volumes.
"House, do you like her?"
"No, I...No, I don't."
There was no conviction, no truth in his words. He may as well have had a neon sign above his head declaring his affections towards Jo.
"House." Wilson pressed again.
The tone of his voice was gentle and empathetic. It was the one he used when he knew that House was hiding something and he always bowed down to it. This time was no different.
House gingerly met his best friend's eyes, full of warmth and patience. He took a deep breath and confessed.
"I like her." His voice was barely more than a gruff whisper. He wanted to leave it at just that, that he liked her and that was the end of it. But he couldn't.
"Fuck, I'm such a bad friend. I, I more than like Jo, okay. I think, no, I know I'm in love with her."
As soon as the words were out, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from House's shoulders now that he had confessed his deepest secret.
Wilson is completely taken aback by the stark bluntness of House's confession but also by the relief evident in his body and expressions. It was something he had never seen in House in all the years he'd known him.
"You're in love with her?"
House nodded sagely and mentally prepared himself for a fist to be thrown his way. But frowned a little when no punch came, "that's it? You're not going to hit me?"
"No, I'm not going to hit you. It's just, why didn't you say something sooner?"
"What does it matter now, Wilson? Even if I had said something, it wouldn't have changed anything and she still would've chosen you. I'm not ready to handle that, I don't know how to handle any of this."