Fic : Thirty Days of Solitary 3/30
Jun. 29th, 2012 08:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
menolly_auTitle: Thirty Days of Solitary 3/30
Characters: House with small bits of Wilson, Foreman, Adams, Chase, Cuddy, Park and Taub
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For everything up to and including Twenty Vicodins
Words:
Summary: House was sentenced to thirty days of solitary confinement for his actions in Twenty Vicodins. This is the story of his time in solitary, and what was happening back at PPTH while he was there. Story will mainly focus on House, but there are segments featuring the rest of the cast. Starts just before the end of Twenty Vicodins.
A/N : Many, many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
damigella_314. Without her constant help and encouragement this story would be called 'Five Days in Solitary'.
Click for previous part
Day 3 Sunday 9th October 2011
Now that the initial fear has subsided, and the case is solved, boredom sets in. His morning medication is welcome, not just for the sweet relief it brings, but for the door opening and the prison officers standing there. The brief human interaction. The guy with the pills doesn't talk much and House doesn't recognise him, but he's a human being, a face, someone to affirm that House hasn't just been chucked in here to rot, forgotten about, forever. He glances at the name on the officer's uniform - Garcia.
"How long am I going to be here?" he asks again, not expecting an answer but just wanting to prolong this period of contact.
Garcia shrugs, his eyes never leaving House. "Until we let you out."
"I have rights you know. I haven't had exercise, or a shower, since you put me in here."
"Showers are every three days. You're on lockdown for the first forty-eight hours so you'll go to exercise tomorrow. After that you'll go to exercise once a day for one hour.”
House is relieved to hear about both; he is already looking for any excuse to get out of tiny cell.
"My books are back at my previous hotel room – if some low life hasn't pinched them. I need them, I'm studying. And I'll need some paper and a pen, pretty sure those are guaranteed under the Bill of Rights. If it's too much trouble I can go fetch them myself."
Garcia looks at him like he's something that's been scraped off the bottom of his shoe.
"You get 'em when you earn them, if you got any complaints you can fill in a form. Now shut the hell up and move away from the door."
House stands there stubbornly for a moment and Garcia tenses and glances towards his silent partner who is standing just out of range. His hand goes to his hip, where there is a mace sprayer. House rolls his eyes and takes a step back, he doesn't want to risk the smooth delivery of his Vicodin; he needs it now, more than ever.
The door slides back into place with a clang, there's the awkwardness with getting the cuffs off and then he hears the officers' footsteps fade as they move back along the tier. There's silence again in House's small cell. He thinks it's rather like being trapped in your bathroom, that's about the size of the place. He looks at the window again, and wonders why it's been painted over. What was harmful about inmates getting a small glimpse of the sky? He paces in the small space between the bunk and the wall, waiting for the Vicodin to kick in. If he stretches his hands out to either side he can reach the walls and he does that for a while, weight on one leg, head down. After he's had his fill of that he paces some more and then lies back down on the bed, hoping to sleep again, at least it will pass some time.
When they take him for his shower it's lukewarm water at best, a hard piece of prison soap, five minutes max in the shower with two officers watching him from the doorway. Still it feels good to wash away the stink of the past three days. He'd cleaned off the dried blood from the fight as best he could in the sink in his cell but this is much better. He doesn't even mind the glances the officers give his maimed leg. Let them stare, maybe they'll be better with the pain meds, or with marching him here and there if they know about the crater in his thigh. Maybe they might even stop putting the leg chains on him.
When the water stops he gets out, drying himself on the rough, prison issue, towel. He puts the clean shorts and singlet he's bought along on and feels less like a bum on the street. He's escorted back to his cell in silence and as he waits for the door to open he spends the last few seconds of relative freedom trying to take in everything of the outside world that he can, even if that world consists of only a grim concrete floor, and painted white walls.
Back in his cell he lies on the bunk, stares at the walls and waits until dinner.
Robert Chase spends his days surfing now. While the other fellows had scrambled for new positions after the 'incident' with Cuddy's house, he'd decided to go on a surfing holiday. It has been the longest stretch of time he's had away from work or study since he was in high school. House still has four months to go on his prison sentence, unless he gets released early for good behaviour. Chase smiles to himself at the thought of House and 'good behaviour' belonging in the same sentence. He thinks that House will be doing the full four months.
He has no doubt that Foreman will find a way to have House return to the hospital when he's finally released. Foreman will have figured out by then that he needs House, Cuddy was no fool – she didn't keep him around just because she was hot for him, he was a drawcard for the hospital. Foreman will bring him back, if only so that he can finally exercise some power over House. Chase knows that Foreman is no match for House, but it will be fun to watch him try to do it.
He picks up his surfboard and throws a towel around his shoulders. As he walks along the sand he feels a sense of certainty about the future. House will return, and he'll go back to working for him, he can wait.
He has faith.
Click for next part
Characters: House with small bits of Wilson, Foreman, Adams, Chase, Cuddy, Park and Taub
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For everything up to and including Twenty Vicodins
Words:
Summary: House was sentenced to thirty days of solitary confinement for his actions in Twenty Vicodins. This is the story of his time in solitary, and what was happening back at PPTH while he was there. Story will mainly focus on House, but there are segments featuring the rest of the cast. Starts just before the end of Twenty Vicodins.
A/N : Many, many thanks to
damigella_314. Without her constant help and encouragement this story would be called 'Five Days in Solitary'. Click for previous part
Day 3 Sunday 9th October 2011
Now that the initial fear has subsided, and the case is solved, boredom sets in. His morning medication is welcome, not just for the sweet relief it brings, but for the door opening and the prison officers standing there. The brief human interaction. The guy with the pills doesn't talk much and House doesn't recognise him, but he's a human being, a face, someone to affirm that House hasn't just been chucked in here to rot, forgotten about, forever. He glances at the name on the officer's uniform - Garcia.
"How long am I going to be here?" he asks again, not expecting an answer but just wanting to prolong this period of contact.
Garcia shrugs, his eyes never leaving House. "Until we let you out."
"I have rights you know. I haven't had exercise, or a shower, since you put me in here."
"Showers are every three days. You're on lockdown for the first forty-eight hours so you'll go to exercise tomorrow. After that you'll go to exercise once a day for one hour.”
House is relieved to hear about both; he is already looking for any excuse to get out of tiny cell.
"My books are back at my previous hotel room – if some low life hasn't pinched them. I need them, I'm studying. And I'll need some paper and a pen, pretty sure those are guaranteed under the Bill of Rights. If it's too much trouble I can go fetch them myself."
Garcia looks at him like he's something that's been scraped off the bottom of his shoe.
"You get 'em when you earn them, if you got any complaints you can fill in a form. Now shut the hell up and move away from the door."
House stands there stubbornly for a moment and Garcia tenses and glances towards his silent partner who is standing just out of range. His hand goes to his hip, where there is a mace sprayer. House rolls his eyes and takes a step back, he doesn't want to risk the smooth delivery of his Vicodin; he needs it now, more than ever.
The door slides back into place with a clang, there's the awkwardness with getting the cuffs off and then he hears the officers' footsteps fade as they move back along the tier. There's silence again in House's small cell. He thinks it's rather like being trapped in your bathroom, that's about the size of the place. He looks at the window again, and wonders why it's been painted over. What was harmful about inmates getting a small glimpse of the sky? He paces in the small space between the bunk and the wall, waiting for the Vicodin to kick in. If he stretches his hands out to either side he can reach the walls and he does that for a while, weight on one leg, head down. After he's had his fill of that he paces some more and then lies back down on the bed, hoping to sleep again, at least it will pass some time.
When they take him for his shower it's lukewarm water at best, a hard piece of prison soap, five minutes max in the shower with two officers watching him from the doorway. Still it feels good to wash away the stink of the past three days. He'd cleaned off the dried blood from the fight as best he could in the sink in his cell but this is much better. He doesn't even mind the glances the officers give his maimed leg. Let them stare, maybe they'll be better with the pain meds, or with marching him here and there if they know about the crater in his thigh. Maybe they might even stop putting the leg chains on him.
When the water stops he gets out, drying himself on the rough, prison issue, towel. He puts the clean shorts and singlet he's bought along on and feels less like a bum on the street. He's escorted back to his cell in silence and as he waits for the door to open he spends the last few seconds of relative freedom trying to take in everything of the outside world that he can, even if that world consists of only a grim concrete floor, and painted white walls.
Back in his cell he lies on the bunk, stares at the walls and waits until dinner.
Robert Chase spends his days surfing now. While the other fellows had scrambled for new positions after the 'incident' with Cuddy's house, he'd decided to go on a surfing holiday. It has been the longest stretch of time he's had away from work or study since he was in high school. House still has four months to go on his prison sentence, unless he gets released early for good behaviour. Chase smiles to himself at the thought of House and 'good behaviour' belonging in the same sentence. He thinks that House will be doing the full four months.
He has no doubt that Foreman will find a way to have House return to the hospital when he's finally released. Foreman will have figured out by then that he needs House, Cuddy was no fool – she didn't keep him around just because she was hot for him, he was a drawcard for the hospital. Foreman will bring him back, if only so that he can finally exercise some power over House. Chase knows that Foreman is no match for House, but it will be fun to watch him try to do it.
He picks up his surfboard and throws a towel around his shoulders. As he walks along the sand he feels a sense of certainty about the future. House will return, and he'll go back to working for him, he can wait.
He has faith.
Click for next part
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-29 10:00 am (UTC)And the fic. This is a short chapter, and in a sense nothing really bad happens to House. And yet... maybe they should get a writer like you to scare people off crime? Although I guess if you're really poor, sleeping in a tiny room with a darkened window and having three meals per day, however crappy, might not sound as scary as it does to me.
The contrast with Chase on the beach couldn't be harsher, yet it provides for welcome relief.
Love the idea that Chase has faith... in House. So do we, the main doubter is himself (and his antidepressants-dependent alter ego, of course).
no subject
Date: 2012-06-29 10:33 am (UTC)They liken solitary to being locked in your bathroom for 23 hours a day - I don't think anyone much would be happy with that... Although maybe it would be easier than being in gen pop and worrying about people trying to steal your stuff/assault you/take your vicodin etc.
Chase said he 'had faith' when he came back in whatever episode that was, it struck me at the time as a very powerful thing to say.
Thanks for reading this again - I know it's pretty depressing...
no subject
Date: 2012-06-29 10:41 am (UTC)And images scare me much more than writing does. I never managed to watch Thirty Vicodins, although I did read the Clinic Duty transcript.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-29 01:07 pm (UTC)I like the way you have House challenge the guard's order, just on pure reflex. It struck me as something House would do, like he messed with Vogler and Tritter. He doesn't react well to authority figures.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-30 11:52 am (UTC)Thanks for reading and reviewing :)
no subject
Date: 2012-06-29 04:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-30 11:52 am (UTC)