A fan fic to the last scene of Wilson's Heart. The missing scene of how Cuddy ends up holding House's hand.
House was lying weak and nearly lifeless in his bed. Cuddy was fidgeting around with his medications, and studied his BP and heart rate. She walked barefoot back over to the chair beside him, propping up her head on the armrest, lifting her feet up on the chair. She just watched him peacefully rest. She gave sniffles every now and again, accompanied with a quick flow of tears, causing her eyes to puff and redden. Suddenly, his eyes slowly opened and he turned his head slowly, facing her.
"Why are you still here?" His voice was soft, hoarse and fragile, causing his words to come in whispers.
"Why wouldn't I be here? Now go back to sleep."
"He came in here. He hates me."
"What? When?"
"Few minutes ago."
"And?"
"He hates me."
"He loves you. Just give him some time."
"I think he's going to need more than just time."
"Well you can't blame him. Nearly all of this was your fault."
"Well done, put all the blame on me when I nearly died tonight too. Not just tonight but the other times."
"Those were your fault too. If you hadn't gotten drunk and gone on that bus, you would've never had the accident and you wouldn't have your head busted. You had a heart attack for taking Alzheimer drugs."
"But I didn't get myself into a coma. That, was Wilson's idea."
He paused. Then said,
"I know its my blame. I know none of this wouldn't have happened. I know that if I wasn't some ass she wouldn't be dead---and he wouldn't hate me."
"We can talk about this--Not now. Go to sleep. Rest."
"I--"
"Stop talking. Sleep."
"You look less enticing when you're in worry--"
"If you don't shut up I'll cripple your other leg."
"Go home. You've babysat me enough."
"Who else is going to watch over you? Make sure you don't overdose on any of your drugs."
"I can't even get up."
"Yeah. Say what you want, I'm staying."
"If you are staying, I'm leaving."
He began to sit up in bed but she quickly go up from her chair forcing him back down.
"You're not going anywhere."
Suddenly he started giving short gasps of breath, showing his pain and was shutting his eyes shut. Cuddy stared at him then quickly went over the the machine and upped his morphine. She sat back down and gave a sigh of relief as his face released. She pulled the chair a little closer to his bedside and sat back down. He looked at her and she began to pet his head, sliding her hand from his forehead all the way to the back of his head. She repeated this for several minutes until he took her hand and clasped it in his.
"You rest. I'm the one whose been in a coma. I've gotten all the rest I need."
She gave a smile, propped her hand up on the armrest again and closed her eyes, her hand remaining in his hand. He stared at her and then turned his head looking out of the ICU staring where Wilson had been moments earlier.
House was lying weak and nearly lifeless in his bed. Cuddy was fidgeting around with his medications, and studied his BP and heart rate. She walked barefoot back over to the chair beside him, propping up her head on the armrest, lifting her feet up on the chair. She just watched him peacefully rest. She gave sniffles every now and again, accompanied with a quick flow of tears, causing her eyes to puff and redden. Suddenly, his eyes slowly opened and he turned his head slowly, facing her.
"Why are you still here?" His voice was soft, hoarse and fragile, causing his words to come in whispers.
"Why wouldn't I be here? Now go back to sleep."
"He came in here. He hates me."
"What? When?"
"Few minutes ago."
"And?"
"He hates me."
"He loves you. Just give him some time."
"I think he's going to need more than just time."
"Well you can't blame him. Nearly all of this was your fault."
"Well done, put all the blame on me when I nearly died tonight too. Not just tonight but the other times."
"Those were your fault too. If you hadn't gotten drunk and gone on that bus, you would've never had the accident and you wouldn't have your head busted. You had a heart attack for taking Alzheimer drugs."
"But I didn't get myself into a coma. That, was Wilson's idea."
He paused. Then said,
"I know its my blame. I know none of this wouldn't have happened. I know that if I wasn't some ass she wouldn't be dead---and he wouldn't hate me."
"We can talk about this--Not now. Go to sleep. Rest."
"I--"
"Stop talking. Sleep."
"You look less enticing when you're in worry--"
"If you don't shut up I'll cripple your other leg."
"Go home. You've babysat me enough."
"Who else is going to watch over you? Make sure you don't overdose on any of your drugs."
"I can't even get up."
"Yeah. Say what you want, I'm staying."
"If you are staying, I'm leaving."
He began to sit up in bed but she quickly go up from her chair forcing him back down.
"You're not going anywhere."
Suddenly he started giving short gasps of breath, showing his pain and was shutting his eyes shut. Cuddy stared at him then quickly went over the the machine and upped his morphine. She sat back down and gave a sigh of relief as his face released. She pulled the chair a little closer to his bedside and sat back down. He looked at her and she began to pet his head, sliding her hand from his forehead all the way to the back of his head. She repeated this for several minutes until he took her hand and clasped it in his.
"You rest. I'm the one whose been in a coma. I've gotten all the rest I need."
She gave a smile, propped her hand up on the armrest again and closed her eyes, her hand remaining in his hand. He stared at her and then turned his head looking out of the ICU staring where Wilson had been moments earlier.
