Bowen wakes slowly, not opening her eyes. She's lying on her back - strange - and the sheets feel odd against her skin. Something - an alarm clock? - beeps next to her. Everything is blue when she opens her eyes - blue walls, blue sheets on the edge of her vision. Even Robert is wearing a blue button down, sitting in a chair, feet propped on the bed frame, pencil tapping his teeth as he considers the crossword puzzle.
"Robert," her throat is dry, hardly allowing sound.
"'Fellow,' four letters, starts with 'c' - and it's not our favorite word."
"Chap," she croaks. "Robert what happened? Where's Winnie?"
He tosses the book onto the bed near her feet. "I put her to sleep in the office. She's fine. Your neighbour brought her here." His tone is cool, though the intended affect is offset by concern.
"What happened." She accepts the cup of water from him, drinking gratefully.
"You," he says, helping her sit up, "had an asthma attack. And your BMI is way lower than it should be."
"…asthma? I don't have…" her mind is still cloudy.
The bed squeaks as he sits. "Made worse by panic. It's pretty common, you can't breathe, and then you can't breathe more. What?" She's looking at him strangely, as if waking up from a terrible dream.
"My dad's dead. That's why I was panicking." her shoulders start to rise faster as she remembers.
"Bo- Bowen, look at me." He grabs her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye. "You've got to stay calm, all right? Your lungs don't need anymore pressure right now. Right, come here." He pulls her head down onto his shoulder and rubs circles onto her check. "It's okay, Bo. It's all okay." he keeps his eyes on the monitor until her heart rate slows.
She pulls away suddenly, turning her head to hide tears. "I'm fine. Tell me about this asthma. I didn't think adults could get asthma."
"Adult-onset. They're gonna run a methacholine test to be sure."
"Who's 'they?'"
"House. He was in the OR as they brought you in."
"Hardly seems too diagnostic."
Robert raises his eyebrows in agreement. He runs his thumb over the now white scars on the inside of her right arm.
"Please don't."
"You need to stop giving me new places to kiss."
With that simple, brightly-said statement, every bit of her carefully woven tapestry unravels. She slumps, filled with gasping sobs. Tears mottle her face, red colours her skin sloppily, in patches.
"I'm sorry," she gulps. "I'm sorry."
"Wally, calm down." Robert's gaze jumps to the monitor. "Wally, I need you to breathe for me." He jumps off the bed, lying her down.
Her throat constricts around itself, and she tries to breathe. A nurse runs in.
"What's wrong?"
"O2 stats are dropping. She's having another attack. Push theophylline."
"Did you upset her?"
"Push the fucking theophylline! Bowen - you have got to calm down!"
The medicine makes her lungs loosen a little, but she still can't breath properly.
"Bo, close your eyes." she obeys. "Think of that day in the park with Winnie. Think of all the flowers she brought you, yeah? And how you braided her hair? That's right, just breathe."
Bo opens her eyes, still breathing hard. With Robert staring down at her, she's threatened to start crying again, but he makes a mock-threatening face, and she gives a watery laugh.
The nurse looks between them warily. "Dr House told me to kick you out if you made her upset."
Robert holds his hands up in defeat, retrieving the crossword book and settling into the chair. "Won't happen again. Scout's honor." He gives his good-boy smile, and the nurse leaves.
"Is this how it's going to be every time I get upset?" she croaks.
"You're body is still vulnerable from the first attack. After you get better, you'll have an inhaler, and we'll get you on some buspirone for your anxiety."
"What caused it?"
"The asthma? Dunno. Your flat's kinda dingy. There's probably mold somewhere."
"How come Win's not sick?"
"Everyone's different. Look, Wal, we need to talk."
She ducks her head, feigning innocence. "About what?"
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Bowen, I need you to trust me."
The waffle-stitched blanket crinkles in and out beneath her curling fingers. "I do trust you."
"You always know that you love me, but I don't think you trust that I love you."
The heart monitor beeps. A cart rattles by. Somewhere, a code is called and nurses and doctors run to a bedside.
"I don't remember the last time said that to me."
Robert raises his eyebrows. "I do. That morning when I left for work. I wanted to tell you right when I saw you again."
Wally gives a blustering sight and rakes a hand through her hair, tears prick her eyes. "We are so dysfunctional."
"Hard to keep a machine going when a piece is broken and refuses to let herself get fixed."
"She doesn't want the other pieces to have to stop."
"I want to hit you every time you say that. I'd rather take care of you than anyone here," he gestures around. "Better yet, I'd rather you stop caring so much about others and take care of yourself. Everyone else you had to labour over is gone, Wally. You're free."
She closes her eyes, feeling a knife in her heart. "I don't want to be."
"They want you to take care of yourself. Let me take care of you. I don't mind, Wally! I love it!"
"Why?"
He scoffs. "I dunno, a thousand reasons. Because I like being the only one that sees your hair down. I like your stupid smile after sex. I like you doing my crossword puzzles. Choose anything and that's why I do it."
"I don't smile stupidly."
"You do," he says firmly. "and it's my favorite smile."
They sit in the silence for a long time, exhaustion dragging at their eyes. Finally, Wally speaks. "It makes me feel useless."
"Do you remember the day my dad died?" he asks. "You'd hardly gotten out of bed that day. Didn't want to even go to lunch with Cameron because you said you couldn't breathe, but then you came back and you helped me, and it was like your problems didn't exist. And everyday you take care of Winnie like everything's fine, she never sees you without a smile. Just because you need someone to take care of you too doesn't make you useless, and neither does the anxiety. Not even a little bit Wal."
She stares at him, cheeks damp. "I love you. And I'm sorry for everything. But I love you."
He chuckles finally at her stumbling words, and leans forward to kiss her. "Go to sleep and get better so we can pretend like the last month didn't happen."
"I hate my job." she mutters, half-asleep already.
"We'll get Cuddy to hire you back. The new guy's a drongo."