Sorry it’s been a while since I updated this fic, here’s chapter 3 for you guys =]
Enjoy! =D
Wilson and Cuddy both looked at each other in utter shock and hastily followed Thirteen out into House’s office.
Cuddy saw House lying on the floor completely lifeless, already in the recovery position, by a pool of vomit, and all the flashbacks of when House had almost killed himself trying to save Amber came back to her; how worried she was; how she couldn’t afford to lose the man valuable to the hospital, and more importantly, her. She felt guilty for complaining about what House did to her even though she had a right to be angry, and she knew it. She just didn’t want to come so close to losing him again because it hurts more than what he did last night.
Wilson’s expression was similar to Cuddy’s with the memory of that incident replaying in his head over and over again. However this time he wasn’t angry with him; he was scared, scared of losing him. He was his best friend after all. He felt that same strong surge of guilt as Cuddy but for a completely different reason: he nearly kissed Cuddy and who knows what might have escalated from it if Thirteen hadn’t entered his door. He felt guilty because he knew how House felt about her even though he went out of his way to prove otherwise. He could read House like a book and, on this occasion, better than Cuddy could.
‘House, can you hear me?’
Those were the worried words of Cuddy, who seemed close to tears. She watched on as he was placed on a gurney and carted off to the nearest free room. Wilson jolted her out of her state of shock and moved her along to House’s room. He was still unconscious and according to a few tests his team ran, this wasn’t because of the vicodin, or any other drug for that matter. The only problem was that they didn’t know what else to test for knowing that they wouldn’t do to him the inhumane acts he made them do to others. Even if they felt that he kind of deserved it, they just didn’t want to; they weren’t strong enough to think of him as just another patient. He was their boss.
Soon enough Cuddy had called them all to the differential room, which suddenly felt so small, so claustrophobic, what with both the old and new teams needed to regurgitate House’s expertise, and Cuddy and Wilson there, not as doctors, but as his closest friends.
‘Right…so we know from Greg that the symptoms are dizziness, vomiting and severe headaches. Now we can add unconsciousness to that…’
She trailed off realising she had used his first name. She had called him Greg. She never calls him Greg. Well, almost never, except for that night that they…Focus Cuddy! Now’s not the time to be thinking about screaming his name in the throes of passion! She mentally punished herself for the thought crossing her mind at such an inappropriate moment. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Wilson say her name, asking if she was alright until he gently placed a hand on her shoulder to bring her back to reality.
Oh how she wished he didn’t as the earth shattering truth that was reality suddenly hit her heavier than a ton of bricks causing her to break down in the office, in front of all of her colleagues. Wilson motioned for the other six to leave and go home for the night; they all knew that they were more likely to find a diagnosis with a clear mind and some rest.
As soon as they left, Wilson slowly helped her up and sat her down on a chair. He pulled out a chair for himself and took Cuddy’s hand into his own by way of comforting her. He told her that House would make it out alive, that he has a team of six talented young doctors who have the same medical mind frame as House who can find a diagnosis for him, that he has someone to live for; that someone was Cuddy. Wilson knew that House wouldn’t give up just yet; he’d fight for his life, even if it’s just because he’s stubborn.
Wilson ordered Cuddy to go home and rest but she was just as stubborn as House was, if not more so. He accepted defeat soon enough and went out to get some coffee for the two of them; they needed it right now. Exhaustion was definitely kicking in now and the weight of it was tearing them down.
Just as Wilson was about to re-enter the differential room, he saw some doctors and nurses rush past him into a room. He shrugged it off and gave the coffee to Cuddy before remembering whose room they were all rushing into, dropping his coffee in realisation, which immediately had Cuddy on her feet with that worried look on her face; the tiredness began to wear off a little as the shrill sounds of the machines started ringing in their ears and they rushed into House’s room anxious to find out what was going on.
Clear!
They both heard and their thoughts of it being a heart attack were confirmed.
Clear!
Once again.
Clear!
Wilson watched the machine, tall enough to see over the other doctor’s heads who were, in all fairness, bent over a little; he saw the House’s life line go flat and the sound of that monotonous beep meant that Cuddy knew why Wilson’s face had gone pale. The shriek she let out got him to act on intuition and he gently pulled her out of the room as she collapsed against a wall, taking him down with her.
Enjoy! =D
Wilson and Cuddy both looked at each other in utter shock and hastily followed Thirteen out into House’s office.
Cuddy saw House lying on the floor completely lifeless, already in the recovery position, by a pool of vomit, and all the flashbacks of when House had almost killed himself trying to save Amber came back to her; how worried she was; how she couldn’t afford to lose the man valuable to the hospital, and more importantly, her. She felt guilty for complaining about what House did to her even though she had a right to be angry, and she knew it. She just didn’t want to come so close to losing him again because it hurts more than what he did last night.
Wilson’s expression was similar to Cuddy’s with the memory of that incident replaying in his head over and over again. However this time he wasn’t angry with him; he was scared, scared of losing him. He was his best friend after all. He felt that same strong surge of guilt as Cuddy but for a completely different reason: he nearly kissed Cuddy and who knows what might have escalated from it if Thirteen hadn’t entered his door. He felt guilty because he knew how House felt about her even though he went out of his way to prove otherwise. He could read House like a book and, on this occasion, better than Cuddy could.
‘House, can you hear me?’
Those were the worried words of Cuddy, who seemed close to tears. She watched on as he was placed on a gurney and carted off to the nearest free room. Wilson jolted her out of her state of shock and moved her along to House’s room. He was still unconscious and according to a few tests his team ran, this wasn’t because of the vicodin, or any other drug for that matter. The only problem was that they didn’t know what else to test for knowing that they wouldn’t do to him the inhumane acts he made them do to others. Even if they felt that he kind of deserved it, they just didn’t want to; they weren’t strong enough to think of him as just another patient. He was their boss.
Soon enough Cuddy had called them all to the differential room, which suddenly felt so small, so claustrophobic, what with both the old and new teams needed to regurgitate House’s expertise, and Cuddy and Wilson there, not as doctors, but as his closest friends.
‘Right…so we know from Greg that the symptoms are dizziness, vomiting and severe headaches. Now we can add unconsciousness to that…’
She trailed off realising she had used his first name. She had called him Greg. She never calls him Greg. Well, almost never, except for that night that they…Focus Cuddy! Now’s not the time to be thinking about screaming his name in the throes of passion! She mentally punished herself for the thought crossing her mind at such an inappropriate moment. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Wilson say her name, asking if she was alright until he gently placed a hand on her shoulder to bring her back to reality.
Oh how she wished he didn’t as the earth shattering truth that was reality suddenly hit her heavier than a ton of bricks causing her to break down in the office, in front of all of her colleagues. Wilson motioned for the other six to leave and go home for the night; they all knew that they were more likely to find a diagnosis with a clear mind and some rest.
As soon as they left, Wilson slowly helped her up and sat her down on a chair. He pulled out a chair for himself and took Cuddy’s hand into his own by way of comforting her. He told her that House would make it out alive, that he has a team of six talented young doctors who have the same medical mind frame as House who can find a diagnosis for him, that he has someone to live for; that someone was Cuddy. Wilson knew that House wouldn’t give up just yet; he’d fight for his life, even if it’s just because he’s stubborn.
Wilson ordered Cuddy to go home and rest but she was just as stubborn as House was, if not more so. He accepted defeat soon enough and went out to get some coffee for the two of them; they needed it right now. Exhaustion was definitely kicking in now and the weight of it was tearing them down.
Just as Wilson was about to re-enter the differential room, he saw some doctors and nurses rush past him into a room. He shrugged it off and gave the coffee to Cuddy before remembering whose room they were all rushing into, dropping his coffee in realisation, which immediately had Cuddy on her feet with that worried look on her face; the tiredness began to wear off a little as the shrill sounds of the machines started ringing in their ears and they rushed into House’s room anxious to find out what was going on.
Clear!
They both heard and their thoughts of it being a heart attack were confirmed.
Clear!
Once again.
Clear!
Wilson watched the machine, tall enough to see over the other doctor’s heads who were, in all fairness, bent over a little; he saw the House’s life line go flat and the sound of that monotonous beep meant that Cuddy knew why Wilson’s face had gone pale. The shriek she let out got him to act on intuition and he gently pulled her out of the room as she collapsed against a wall, taking him down with her.
“Is this…” Spencer paused. Her voice was a throaty whisper. “Is this all we’ll ever have?” Remy’s eyes met hers. “Do you want more?” Remy asked.
Suddenly Spencer’s face became like a child’s full of tenderness and vulnerability. In that moment that followed Remy felt a bond to her like nothing else. For a long while they sat without speaking. They stared silently at their intertwined hands.
“I love you” Spencer said softly. Remy grew very still. Spencer couldn’t see her face.
“Remy?” She lifted her chin. “Look at me”
Her eyes told her all she needed to know. As they sat there in the faded light of dusk, they both believed in happiness.
Suddenly Spencer’s face became like a child’s full of tenderness and vulnerability. In that moment that followed Remy felt a bond to her like nothing else. For a long while they sat without speaking. They stared silently at their intertwined hands.
“I love you” Spencer said softly. Remy grew very still. Spencer couldn’t see her face.
“Remy?” She lifted her chin. “Look at me”
Her eyes told her all she needed to know. As they sat there in the faded light of dusk, they both believed in happiness.