May 13
Set in late season 4, inspired by the final scene of episode 15,"House's head", where Cuddy is asleep on an armchair by House's hospital bed. (Forgetting everything about that episode, including Amber's death)
Chapter 1 - House's head
.
The thick fog begins to fade, revealing the light all around, and brightening the faded colours.
Is he drunk?
Music... people... frenetic movements of bodies to the music... frantic lightning effects all around like the ones of a stroboscopic ball... little spots of light all around but colorless, like in a sort of black and white movie... sort of pictures from a continuous freeze-frame, piling up in his mind...
A naked body... white soft skin... long hair tickling his nose...
A moan...
A chuckle...
And gray-blue eyes...
.
The blue of House's eyes suddenly fixes the ceiling, fighting the heaviness of his eyelids.
"Hey... I'm here. Blink if you can hear me"
Cuddy covers House's hand with hers and slightly squeezes it as House's eyes still just stare at a fixed point in front of them. She bents forward a little more to be in his visual field, holding both his hand and her own breath, in what looks like the longest seconds of her life. House doesn't move at first, then he finally blinks.
Air left Cuddy's lungs like from a deflating balloon, and she holds House's hand tighter as his confused eyes look for hers this time, and his lips part.
"No, shh, don't try to talk. Just rest,"
House's eyelids seem to surrender again to the fog wrapping his head, on that thin line between sleep and wakefulness...
Clouded thoughts swirl inside his skull, like on a crazed carousel...
Cuddy's look suddenly and instinctively moves on the monitor by the bed, and then down at House's hand again at the feeling of his thumb, which slowly moves to touch hers.
"You're here..."
His voice comes in a gasp, breaking the sound of the rhythmic beeps coming from the monitors, set on his vital functions. A breathless gruffly whisper because of the tongue almost glued to the palate in his dried mouth.A question... or just a statement.
"Of course I'm here,"
Cuddy's hand travels from House's hand to his forearm in a reassuring way, resting there for a few seconds before sliding down to his hand again.
"Wh- what...?"
House's eyes meet hers for a fraction of second, then succumbing once again at the heaviness of his eyelids, and she held his hand tighter, just careful of not ripping off the cannula from his vein.
Doesn't he remember anything? Ok... Well, no, it's not ok, but it's normal, isn't? Well, again, not normal, but normal after such a head trauma. Post-traumatic amnesia. Frequently patients with head trauma don't remember the event which lead to it.
"A bus accident..." Cuddy whispers, wondering if he can actually hear her voice, or if he has crossed again the line of unconsciousness instead, "You have a chest contusion, a contused lacerated wound which required suturing, three broken ribs and a bad head trauma. Temporal bone fracture. No bleeding. You need rest. Just rest. Don't talk"
Cuddy's soul smiles as soon as House's lips part instead, obviously ignoring her words. Maybe she should be more upset by his 'being still the usual House' even half-dead in a hospital bed... but she doesn't, and she feels relieved instead.
House coughs in an attempt to clear his throat, and he swallows a nonexistent amount of saliva as his features deforms at the sudden pain which bursts in his chest like a deflagration.
His eyes shut tighter and he holds his breath, increasing the grip around Cuddy's fingers, so hard he almost hurts her.
Not that pain is enough to stop him anyway. His lips part despite his still closed eyes, and a few words exit in another gasp.
"I-I'm sorry-"
He inhales and exhales again.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you"
Cuddy's lips part in turn at that weak whisper.
"Shhh... don't talk... it's ok. It's ok," She just says meeting his gaze again "I know I can't compete with Wilson" She tries to joke as a playful smile lights up her eyes and a sort of faint one mirrored on House's lips.
Cuddy looks at him as House closes his eyes, probably falling in the doze for the third time in that couple of minutes. Or maybe, for once in his life, he's just listening to her. She lets go of his hand and runs a hand on House's forehead before turning to look at her heels, still abandoned by the armchair.
She had jumped on her feet so quickly as soon House had regained consciousness that she hadn't bothered about how cold the floor felt under her bare soles. Now she's getting aware of it though.
A sense of relief fills her. Thank goodness he is out of coma and his mind seems clear. Well, not that she had time for a full neurologic test but... he can recognize her, talking... for now it's enough. He's fine. Well, again, as fine as a man who got involved in a bus accident, who has a bad head trauma and a fracture of the temporal bone who sent him in the ICU.
"L-Lisa?"
Cuddy stops, abruptly turning toward House.
His eyes are still shut, but he was clearly talking to her since there's anybody else in the room.
By first name? Really?
Well, anyway it can be counted as another point on his neurologic test, right?
"We- we ok then?" House breathlessly asks, looking into Cuddy's eyes as his hand reaches for hers this time.
The slight nod of Cuddy's head comes more because of instinct than awareness. The blue of House's eyes... God, it's hypnotic, even more when he looks at her in that way. A spellbinding gaze, which not even the red rim of his eyelids or the dark shadows under them can deaden.
Blue gets lost in blue, till, again, he can't fight tiredness anymore. The grip on Cuddy's hand suddenly weakens and she immediately gives a concerned look at the monitor by the bed. Normal heart rate, normal oxygen saturation.
Oh, don't freak out, Lisa! Being in and out of consciousness is normal after such a head trauma.
She looks down at House again, from his closed eyes to his lips. And she feels it again... his thumb caressing her fingers.
"It's ok, just rest" she tries again. Not that it has ever worked with him.
And, as a matter of fact, it doesn't work this time either.
"Babe?"
The fact that House gasps again doesn't prevent Cuddy from understanding that word though. And the 'I'm sorry' he repeats her for the second time in just a few minutes.
What is it? He has no reason to say it... well, actually he would have more reasons to apologize than anyone else, but honestly she can't remember having heard those words from his lips before. And...babe? Really? At any other time she could have ripped his balls off for much less.
House forces himself to open his eyes again, locking eyes with her and the course of her thoughts abruptly stops at the three words which follow.
"I love you"
It comes like a thunder in a summer day. An almost imperceptible whisper, yet clear like he has cried it out loud.
Cuddy stands there, frozen, as House's eyelids fail again their attempt to fight the incipient thick fog which envelops his mind.
Holy -!
Cuddy's lungs finally free the air they have refused to let out, till the need of oxygen sends an alarm signal to her brain, and she just stares at him. Astonished. Dumbfounded. Bewildered. Her lips are parted and the pale skin of her face stretches even more the blush on her cheeks.
She's aware she shouldn't be upset by a half-unconscious man's words... and yet... her heart is racing and her hands are sweating and her mouth got dried.
Surely, he won't remember anything of that conversation the day after. And yet...
"Hey"
Cuddy gulps, almost startling, and turns toward the door as Wilson walks in.
"How is he?" He asks nodding his head toward House.
Wilson's eyes linger for a moment on his friends' joined hands as Cuddy quickly frees hers from House's.
...He just said he loves me. Except this... fine, I suppose...
"Er... fine, I suppose" she just says as Wilson nods.