Gregory House was beginning to learn that he did not always have the power to force people into a particular action. Most learn this when they are children and no amount of screaming could make their mom buy them a new toy, but he was the exception. It was a fact that he came to acknowledge the older he got that people could be manipulated in every way possible. You just needed to find a chink in their armour and then kapow…it would be done.
Cameron had not come into work the next day, nor the day after that. His calls remained unanswered and his mail stacked up and up and up. The coffee went unmade- nobody but Cameron bothered, and House still didn't know where the sugar was kept. The remaining members of the team kept on with their case, Cuddy informed House that Cameron was taking a leave of absence and life went on, one dull day at a time.
In time they diagnosed the patient with aggressive Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis and gave her two to six months to live. Nobody mentioned her lack of family and nobody gave it much thought. When she caught an infection and died just a few days later she did so without anyone by her bedside, with no one holding her hand- just a nurse administering the drugs to reduce the last pain she would ever feel, and a doctor standing at the glass looking through the blinds at this frail woman fading away.
It was Wilson standing at the door, and unable to bear it any more he went in and sat down, gently taking her hand and reassuring her that it was going to be okay, that it would soon be over and he would not leave her. He is used to seeing people die, but not alone. He remembered the conversation he had with Cameron a while ago over Cindy, her terminal cancer patient. He had walked over to see how she was taking it, just to see the two of them laughing and joking like old friends. He had to tell her…she could take this with her every night
"It's not your job to be her friend. Do you understand? And it's not worth it. She feels better her few final days, and you're not the same, maybe for years."
"You don't think it's worth it?" Her voice was quiet. Measured. Her eyes spoke volumes of what she was feeling, held back tears and pent up rage that this was yet another life she couldn't save.
"I know it's not worth it." He kept his voice calm and steady, as if to keep this point in the air. So she would see that this isn't the way.
"My husband…. I met him just after he was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. If I hadn't married him, he was alone. When a good person dies, there should be an impact on the world. Somebody should notice. Somebody should be upset." He never knew about her husband. He had figured her for a nice-waiting for the right man kind of girl, with a bedroom at home filled with pictures of wedding dresses and baby names. He had seen what cancer, like her husband had suffered, did to a person and those around them. It destroyed them, and yet this beautiful woman had built herself back up and made herself into a new person.
The monitor slowed to a slow beep and flat lined. He turned it off immediately- there was no need for a code. She wasn't going to come back with one fighting breath. He noted a single tear on her cheek, the result of the loosening muscles around her eyes, and wiped it with his thumb. His final act of comfort that he could give this woman who had no one else.
"Patient Martha Lewis. Time of death 1.31 am." He spoke softly so that only the attending nurse could hear. She had returned to the room silently, as if intuitively knowing that there was now a bed free. That's all the sick were to some people. Bed space.
As he left the room he felt the weariness he had been holding back all day settle in on him
"She gone?" Houses voice cut in to the silence that was emanating from the threshold of the room.
"Its over now, yes." His voice sounded tired to his own ears, he needed sleep and the couch in his office was looking more tempting by the minute.
"She didn't have cancer. She wasn't even remotely related to you or your department except through me…So why were you the one to hold her hand?" Houses voice was soft but insistent, the curiosity showing in every word.
"Cameron isn't here" That was it as far as he was concerned, and he walked away towards his office. "I have some papers to finish up, I wont need the couch tonight" He didn't look back as he made the familiar walk to his office, looking through doors as he passed. How many of these people will die alone?
Unbeknownst to Wilson, House had stood outside Martha Lewis' room for a good ten minutes after Wilson had left, until the men came to take her body away. He did not look at the body, he didn't need to- instead he looked down at his cane, deep in thought before turning and heading for the exit.