Disclaimer: Same as usually ya'll. All the characters used are based off of House MD, which is all David Shore's...much to my envy.
Part Three
There was bright light streaming through a lone window, easily passing through his eyelids. It was annoying to be sure, but something told him it would be a good idea to open his eyes. The struggle began, his mind telling him one thing while his body told him another, a battle for consciousness that he was already losing. That was not enough to deter him, however, and his eyelids started to flutter, until finally he was squinting at the blinding light in the room.
As soon as this happened he heard a voice calling to him, urging him to continue is waking process. The words were jumbled and he couldn't quite make them out, but he still found comfort in them, though he couldn't figure out why. He felt someone squeeze his hand, bringing him further into reality as he tried his best to squeeze back. The moment he tried to squeeze back, however, he was hit with a crash of pain shooting through his limbs. A quiet whimper escaped his lips, and suddenly he was surrounded by voices and the scuffling of people around him.
As he tightly closed his eyes and clenched his fists he found a small comfort in a hand that brushed against his forehead and soft words whispered in his ear. Slowly he started to calm down, responding only to the mystery figure that was bringing him comfort as the pain started to ebb away. It was only then that the voice started to become clearer and his lips curved into a very faint smile.
"That's it…just relax," the familiar voice said. "You're going to be alright, I promise, but you need to stay calm. Opening those sexy eyes of yours wouldn't hurt either…"
That made him laugh a bit on the inside, and gave him more of an incentive to give some kind of response. As the room quieted down even more and he assumed that no one was left except him and the man he loved, he took a few moments to gather his strength. Using everything he had he relaxed his fingers and slowly laced his fingers with those belonging to the other.
He could immediately feel the warmth radiating from the rough finger tips that connected with his palm. Awareness slowly began to come forward and he used this to try and assume his condition. The pain was faint, most likely due to the meds that were coursing through his veins. He could feel himself breathing in and out, so they hadn't had to intubate, which he supposed was a good sign. The train of thought was lost, however, as the voice spoke up once more.
"I know you're awake," it said with a stubborn tone. "If you can take my hand, which is very girly of you by the way, then I know you can open your eyes…I'll even say please if it'll make you feel better, and you know I never say please for anything. You've been asleep long enough anyway, and Steve's getting awfully lonely since I so graciously opted to stay here to keep you company…"
Even though his mind was about as useful as a spork, James knew there was some underlying meaning to what he was hearing. There was the faintest hint of relief and worry, though stealthily covered with an air of normalcy surrounding it. He wanted to appease him, simply open his eyes and hope everything would be normal again, but he was tired and weak, and a small part of him couldn't help but be curious as to what else he would hear. So he waited.
"Stubborn bastard." He hadn't expected that. "Why won't you wake up for me huh? It's been days since the accident…Cameron's been driving me up a wall, always asking if there's anything she can do. Though I suppose her mother henning isn't much of an incentive to wake up." The speech was broken by a soft sigh. "You're going to make me bring out the big guns aren't you? Alright fine. I miss you alright? They were worried for a while…the injuries were pretty substantial. After going over the files I'm not even sure how I managed to keep you on the phone as long as I did…but you pulled through…All you need to do now is open those eyes and I'll stop bugging you."
"Everyone always says that talking helps right? I always thought it was a bunch of crap, how could I not after all the time we spent with coma guy. We ate lunch in that room way too many times…Of course, he still woke up eventually, just like you better. I wouldn't sit here and talk to myself for just anyone you know. Besides…who else is going to keep me in line at work, or make sure I eat something other than take out at least once a week? Not to mention how hard it is to find someone to watch The OC with just for the mockery value…"
Something about this seemed a bit unfair. Despite his efforts, his eyes would not react to his desires. He could hear the pleading in between all of the lines and desperately wanted to be able to reassure him. For a brief moment he thought that perhaps he should have saved what little strength he had to open his eyes rather than use it for the physical contact he so desperately yearned for. It was torture, having all of these thoughts in his head but no way to voice them, no way to be heard.
Minutes passed in silence as his thoughts began to wander once more, silence filling the area. He couldn't blame anyone, knowing that talking to anyone with no response can take a toll. Though he had to admit that when the silence was broken again, he was glad for someone to listen to.
"You know…I was actually looking forward to having dinner with you. I know I always bitch and moan about it, but now it doesn't seem all that important anymore. Not to mention despite how much I make fun of you, you always look great. Plus it makes it much more fun once I get you home and have my way with you."
The voice suddenly became much softer than he had ever heard it before. "I know…that I'm unbearable a lot of the time. I'm a manipulative bastard, and a lot of the time you're the one who has to bear most of it. But…what we have, it's been worth it hasn't it? Sure I'm an asshole sometimes…most of the time, but I have my moments…like now. And yeah, you're asleep so you probably can't even hear me but…points for trying right? Just…please…if some part of that messed up head of yours can hear anything I'm saying…just wake up soon okay? Cause…you know…I love you and all that."
And then it clicked. That was something he could not say no to, despite everything else that was working against him. Little by little he started to open his eyes, the light again making him want to immediately retreat, but he carried on. His efforts were rewarded as he felt a hand lightly caress his cheek. The world was blurry at first, shapes and colors molded together but formed nothing conclusive. After assuring himself that he would be able to open them again, he blinked his eyes in an attempt to make things clearer, a successful attempt.
When his vision finally cleared, rather than waste time looking around, trying to figure out what was going on he focused in on a single figure. That one thing was the only thing that mattered right now, and was probably the best thing he had ever seen. His mind was racing with all of the things that he wanted to say, all the things he had been thinking about. However, everything he had was put into a single, barely whispered word. "Greg..."