Annnd....Here it is :)
Shock reigned for a moment as she stared at the closed door. Then pain ripped through her and tears began to drip from her already puffy eyes. Idiot. Idiot, Remy. This is why you run. She retreated to her bedroom and eased the door shut, then flopped on her bed and buried her head in a pillow.
It's better this way. Distance now will pay off in the long run. To depend on him would just be self-centered. As much as it tore at her heart, she considered whether leaving things the way they'd ended minutes ago would be the right course of action. He's angry, which is better than hurt. Why put him through more than I already have? He has no responsibility to me. Let him walk away, move on. She felt sick at the thought, but knew it was for the best. I know what this disease does to everyone around it. When I can't control my body, let alone my emotions, do I really want him to be the one bearing the brunt of the angry outbursts? And that's assuming he'll even forgive me for tonight or want any part of my soon-to-be-changing life.
She found it almost easier to confront the coffee cup incident than the uncertainty over Stephen. Could this really be it? That cup didn't just slip. Muscle weakness, involuntary spasms, loss of control...textbook. How long until I can't ignore it anymore? She had the logistics of long-term care and disability insurance covered but tried to avoid thinking about the time when she'd be forced to use them. Don't get ahead of yourself. You're not drooling and stuttering yet.
Her thoughts were interrupted when House opened the door without even bothering to knock. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in her facedown position on the bed. "KSA didn't stay for a night of pity sex?"
Of course. She hadn't expected anything but insensitive mocking anyway. "We...are...not...together." Whatever. No point in arguing with him.
"Why?"
She lifted her head and turned to look at him. "What?" That wasn't what I was expecting.
"Why aren't you together?"
An exasperated glance. "Why would we be?"
"Isn't it obvious?" His voice was quiet and unusually sincere.
She studied him, noting the missing signs of sarcasm. What is he doing? Wary of being force-fed any words she answered with, she said, "House, I see nothing in this situation that indicates we should be dating. So if you do, please point it out to me."
He paused, ice blue eyes boring through her. "You aren't this upset about a coffee mug."
"What just happened was the first sign of a disease that will take my independence, strength, mind, and life. You don't think I'm affected by it?" she snapped, meeting his gaze head-on.
"Of course you are. But you know one twitch doesn't mean you'll be using a walker tomorrow. Had it happened anytime but while you were holding a coffee cup, you probably wouldn't even have noticed. The real problem is that your perfectly constructed life shattered along with it. The perfect life that obviously revolves around one person."
"So, what? You think Stephen and I will get married and live happily ever after? News flash - that's not going to happen. I don't know how long I have to live, and I don't know how much of it will be good years. In eighteen months I could be showing serious symptoms." She was ranting now, and without thinking blurted out the reservation she hadn't even admitted to herself. "And even before I decline, I'm not exactly stable relationship material. I'm not sure if you remember how my last relationship ended? Let me refresh your memory - he came home to a half-page note, and I was gone. No goodbye, no explanation, no idea where I went. I don't do commitment well. I can't do that to Stephen. If we go down that road, there's no turning back to 'just friends.' When I start to suffocate and I run, or cheat, or distance myself...it won't just be breaking up with a boyfriend. I'll be alone, and breaking my best friend's heart in the process. He won't want anything to do with me after that."
Taking a long, shuddering breath, she bit her lip and glanced at House. What? Instead of the sarcasm or awkwardness she expected, there was a mosaic of emotion in his eyes. Pain was the most obvious; physical or something else, she couldn't tell. Blurred with the pain she found a certain longing, almost wistfulness. Guilt was there too...Guilt for what? And barely there was something else that rang familiar to her very core. Something she couldn't quite identify. Something she had known well, like the distinctive scent of a childhood school room or a song from long ago.
And then as he dropped his eyes from her piercing gaze, she knew. It wasn't something she'd seen, but something she'd felt. Defiance, bitterness, mixed with a sliver of angry shame - the uncertainty of being caught in something she knew wasn't wrong, but was certainly against the norm.
"You do it both ways, right?" Her head snapped up, and that panicked uncertainty gripped her. Eyes wide, she stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. "The ultrasound. Lying down or standing up. What else would I mean?"
Her own words echoed back from moments before."There's no turning back to 'just friends.' When I start to suffocate and I run, or cheat, or distance myself...it won't just be breaking up with a boyfriend. I'll be alone, and breaking my best friend's heart in the process." The words that had frozen him in this heart-wrenching pain. "House?" Tentatively, she watched his eyes flicker across the floor and refuse to meet hers.
Then he spoke, voice ragged and gravelly. "And he knows all that. He wants to spend with you whatever time you have left. He's willing to take the risk you'll eventually leave. He wants to be there for the cozy evenings everything's all right and for the nights you wake up screaming. He's not asphyxiating you, he just cares. And the worst hurt for him would be watching you scared and alone. He'd rather hold your hand on the bathroom floor when you drink too much just to get lost than sit up at night wondering if you're drinking alone. Because he knows exactly when and how you need him." And he turned and limp-hopped quickly to his room.
Oh, God. Oh, GOD. House. Wilson. Of course. For the third time that night, she found herself utterly stunned. And House's heartfelt speech still echoed in her mind, which was bouncing like a ping-pong ball between him and Wilson, and her and Stephen. "Whatever time you have left...scared and alone...he just cares...exactly when and how you need him." Stephen had always been there, always known when supportive silence was more helpful than discussion or advice. He knew when to bug her about something, and when to let it be. And if she was honest with herself, she couldn't deny that they'd been blurring the lines between "friends" and more lately. House is an ass, but he sure can read people. She could have sworn she had no tears left, but her eyes began to well up again. What if I've already pushed him away too long? What if he's not even interested in a relationship with a dying woman?
Just as quickly, her thoughts shifted back to House's situation, where there were still too many unknowns. Rolling off the bed, she crept to the door of the guest bedroom. She knocked quietly, and hearing no response, pushed the door open.
He sat on the bed facing away from her and didn't turn around at the intrusion. "That's why you left Princeton. Were you coming to find me?"
"I don't know." His voice was barely audible. "I knew you were in Boston, but I didn't think that night. Just got on my bike and found myself here."
She understood he was more comfortable with distance, so she situated herself on the floor near the door. Wilson must have approached him. But..."Was it because you weren't interested, or because you're afraid?"
"We slept together. A month before I came here." Must have been when Chase noticed him start acting weird around Wilson. She remained silent, hoping he'd continue. "You know how he is. He wanted it to mean something."
A quiet moment. "And did it?"
"That's not the point," he muttered. "It wouldn't work, for all the reasons you listed."
"But what you said...it wasn't about me and Stephen."
He acted as if he hadn't heard her. "I was pissed at him, and at myself. For messing up what we had. We didn't talk for a month...I had to get out of there."
She bit back the lecture about responsibility and worrying Wilson. "And now?" Still facing the wall, his head dropped a little more. "House, everything you said earlier is true. He knows you, and he knows what he's getting into. He's not going to wake up in three months and decide he wants to be with someone who will buy him flowers and teddy bears that say 'I love you.' And he knows your future is uncertain, but he's willing to face that with you." Tears began to flow again as she thought of Stephen.
He turned to face her, and she read the words on his lips rather than heard them. "I know."
EDIT: All right, a little added comment about the pairings. I started this story thinking it would be House/Thirteen, then Stephen kind of just happened. I couldn't get it to work with H+13 because they're so similar. Neither of them would be willing to take the first step. I love Houseteen stories because they're my two favorites, but in this one they would have ended up out-of-character and I hate that.
On that note, I also sometimes think House/Wilson is out of character, but I tried to keep the story true to both of them. Sorry there was no slash warning, but I didn't want to spoil the outcome of the story. Sorry for those who are disappointed =(
One last chapter on the way - kind of an epilogue/wrapping up loose ends.
Please review and let me know what you think, good or bad!