Pointless
A/N: I haven't forgotten about all the other ones I have hanging around, I promise! But I was inspired, and so I had to write this. It's rather different from anything else I've written… I guess its set before 'Mob Rules' shrug Oh and it is kinda short… okay very short, but I wanted it to be! Anywho, enjoy (I hope).
DISCLAIMER: I do not own House, okay!
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Somewhere, a light is on. A single light in the middle of a sleeping town, or so she imagines. Who else could possibly be up at half three in the morning? She shouldn't even be. But no, here she is, perched on her couch, waiting for the clock to tell her it's 4 o'clock. Then it would only be an hour until she's actually supposed to be up. The warmth of her bed was sickening rather than comforting; she'd had to get out before it suffocated her, another sleepless night ending in that horrible aching feeling. The feeling of life being suddenly so pointless. It has been so long, she can barely remember a time when she'd actually sunken into bed and fallen asleep, waking up refreshed and ready for the day ahead.
She tries to shift the blame from the obvious. House. Though she knows it, she refuses to believe that it's thoughts of him that stop her from sleeping. Voices in her head continue to go over every conversation they've ever had until she feels like permanently covering her ears, though she knows it won't change a thing. His eyes. It's like they've been branded into her memory, the last thing she sees at night, first thing she sees in the morning, even if it is only a few hours later. Not to mention all the thoughts between. One by one the days unfold the same, but instead of moving on, she falls deeper each day. It's all done against her will, like she can't help it, knows it's pointless trying to fight it.
Half three in the morning and she's thinking about him again. The television is on in the background, turned right down as not to wake the neighbours, but she barely even registers the fact it's there. It could be at full volume, and she wouldn't notice. She's still sat in front of it, her eyes on the screen; though she's looking straight past whatever it is that's on. She hasn't even moved for about a half hour, probably won't for another. It's all she ever does. That and wonder why she has such a big, empty apartment to start with.
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His office door is open just a fraction. Headphones in, eyes closed, he's listening to whatever the hell it is that's just started playing on his IPod. Given up on Game Boy, can't concentrate. Hell, he's even struggling to put his thoughts together! If anyone actually comes in, he'll probably be able to find some snarky comment from somewhere to throw at them, but right now his mind is on nothing but her. He tries to listen to the song, but it's pointless. Her voice keeps interrupting, forcing him to open his eyes just to check she isn't standing there, her usual blank expression clouding any feelings she might have. Not that she hasn't made them clear. But he'd refused to listen to anything she had to say, ignored the effect her every word was having on his cold and stubborn heart.
Something tells him he should stop and consider what this is doing to her. That's the thing, Gregory House doesn't think, especially not about anyone else. Or at least that's what he'd always come to know, what he'd tried to tell himself the million and one times he'd had this silent conversation. Maybe Wilson was right, maybe Cameron really is changing him in ways he can never understand? That's another thing he never does though – listen to Wilson. But that was before. Before he was forced to discover someone actually liked him, maybe even loved him.
Switching off his IPod, he gets up from his seat, limps out of the room, and down the corridor. He doesn't know where he's headed; he just wants to see her. He doesn't know what he's going to say when he does, but he knows he can't hide anymore. It may have been his favourite 'sport' for so long but it isn't anymore. Hiding is on top of the list of things that are pointless, and he knows it.