A/N: Hi guys! I know some of you were waiting for an update to my other unfinished story on here, but I feel like I've outgrown that one. I started writing that in high school and am now nearly finished university. Either way, I've been lurking on this site for years without actually writing anything. Then suddenly I was in a mood and this came out. I do plan on continuing it. Hopefully you guys enjoy. I like to think my writing has gotten better; at the very least I write longer chapters now :)
The only thing worse than the pain was the anticipation of the pain; the ache that promised much worse things to come. House was experiencing one of those aches this morning.
He'd opened his eyes to the sound of his alarm blaring and immediately knew it was going to be one of those days. One of those days where every step taken was a game of chance. He'd be lucky if he managed not to fall in front of his team.
House grasped his leg and swung it off the side of the bed, the rest of his body following. The movement caused nothing more than a small muscle cramp, but it worried House more than a full-blown spasm. A spasm was easy. The amount of pain he would be in for the rest of the day would be dictated by it. A muscle cramp as minor as this was harder. Cramps could trick him, make him think it was going to be a good day then blindside him. It would keep him on edge all day. He rubbed his thigh a little before grabbing his cane and standing up. The leg, thankfully, held his weight and he went about getting ready for the day.
Today would be as good of a day as any to abandon the idea of going to work entirely. Cuddy already knew he was going to be late; he had a session with Nolan that couldn't be moved. Although, honestly, he didn't want to do that either. Sitting there divulging his deepest, darkest secrets was bad enough - doing it while his leg had him on red alert would be even worse. House shook his head and resigned himself to the fact that, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't skip the session with Nolan. It would send up too many red flags (especially so soon after getting his medical license back). As long as he could get through the hour without his leg making him scream, all would be well. He could go back to his office and crash in his recliner for the rest of the day. Clinic hours be damned.
Unfortunately, House had no such luck. The drive to Nolan's office had pushed his leg over the edge. Upon trying to stand up out of the car, his leg began to spasm; it gave out and sent him plummeting back toward the seat. House's breath began coming out in hitched exclamations of pain and the beginnings of tears stung his eyes. He pulled them back just in time, though. As soon as he was able, he drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders mentally preparing to try standing up again. With a pained groan, he did so. Great he thought to himself now all I have to do is make it to the waiting room. That's doable. I can sit there until Nolan shows up. Unbeknownst to House, Nolan was already there in the parking lot and had seen the entire struggle.
House did eventually make it to his usual perch in Nolan's office. Absolutely exhausted, he landed in the chair much harder than usual hoping Nolan didn't notice. Of course, Nolan did notice; he was too much like House not to see the sunken posture, eyes with bags underneath, and tight expression.
"So, House, last week we talked a lot about relationships. This week, I want to expand on that; I want to talk about how your pain affects your relationships."
House rolled his eyes. He should have known that Nolan would figure out something was up. "Really? That's what you want to talk about?"
"Yeah. You're always wanting me to acknowledge it as part of the reason you are the way you are, so let's talk about it. I'm all ears."
"I don't need you to be 'all ears'. My pain is not something that I need to talk about." House got closer to yelling than he would have liked.
"Are you sure about that? It certainly seems like it's something you need to talk about today. I saw you out in the parking lot this morning; you could barely stand up." Nolan said it as a fact, but there was a hint of concern in his tone.
"And that concerns you because…?" House raised his eyebrows, daring Nolan to answer.
"You're my patient. I'm allowed to be concerned when I notice you hurting."
"As if you actually care; you're paid to pretend you do."
"House, I am paid to care for you psychically, but I can also empathize with you as a human being."
"Yeah well empathize all you want; it's not going to heal the fucking hole in my thigh".
"Is that what this is about? You think if someone can't fix the pain you feel, they shouldn't care at all?"
House shrugged, grunting non-committedly.
"That's why you push people away – if they can't help you, you don't need them, right?"
"That's not it at all…" House defended weakly, rubbing his forehead to ward off his aggravation. His leg was acting up again and he needed Nolan to stop talking.
"What is it then?" Nolan continued to question seeming to have forgotten his earlier insistence that the leg itself be acknowledged. "Is it that you don't think you need people period? Think you can handle it all on your own?"
"NO!" House screamed; the pain in his leg reached a crescendo right as his annoyance at Nolan's words did. "You know what? I'm done! I don't have to sit here and take this from you. I'm outta here". House stood and began to turn away in a huff, but his leg was having none of it. His thigh then connected with the back of the chair he had been sitting in and he crumbled into a screaming, wailing heap on the floor.
"HOUSE!" Nolan raced to slow his client's descent, but he was too late. The damage had already been done. "Nurse, 5 mg morphine….now!"
Nolan watched thoughtfully as House slept peacefully on the couch in his office. It was such a contrasting scene from the tortured screams he had heard mere moments before. He had never before witnessed the true extent of House's pain. Sure, he knew House hurt; he'd read the Mayfield admittance file. Up until this point, though, he had never really seen it. The pain he had seen during House's initial detox was to be expected. Nolan never even thought about the fact that House must be in similar amounts of pain much of the time; it wasn't the focus of their work together. Even on a noticeably worse day like today, House had held it together rather well. Still, Nolan felt a deep sense of remorse that he had not taken the time to understand his client's pain.
House stirred a little over an hour later and groggily rubbed at his eyes. Nolan's office? What the hell am I still doing here? Slowly, as he worked his way to an upright position, the memory of the morning's events returned to him. Nolan eyed him uneasily from across the room, ready to assist if needed, but also unsure if he should intrude. Luckily, House broke the silence first. "We're going to have to talk about this now, too, aren't we?"
"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't just cleared the rest of my morning to do so. How's the leg?" Nolan questioned gently.
"Well, I certainly won't be attempting another dramatic exit if that's what you're asking." House sighed, deciding to just tell the truth. He'd already humiliated himself with the fall; there was no point in deflecting anymore. "It's…fine for now. The morphine hasn't completely worn off yet. All hell's going to break loose soon enough, though. I'll just call Wilson and he'll drag my ass out of here when that time comes."
"Wilson already knows. I called him after I had given you the morphine and got an earful about letting you try to walk out of here in the first place. I guess I'm not quite as adept at reading your pain levels as he is".
"You aren't supposed to be". House mumbled, almost low enough that Nolan couldn't hear.