Fic : Thirty Days of Solitary 20/30
Jul. 16th, 2012 06:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
menolly_auTitle: Thirty Days of Solitary 20/30
Characters: House with small bits of various others
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For everything up to and including Twenty Vicodins
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 of Solitary'.
Click for previous part
Day 20 Wednesday 26th October 2011
Exercise isn’t much, but it’s a chance to get out of his cell, and into the fresh air. That one precious hour has become the highlight of each twenty four hours for him, it’s worth tolerating the handcuffs and the chains and the eternal presence of the guards, who are always too close to him.
When he shuffles into the run and they uncuff him he looks around, it’s a nice day, the sun is out and the air temperature is pleasant. He’s in a wire and steel enclosure, and the comparison to a dog run is unavoidable, but it still seems incredibly open compared to his tiny cell.
He walks along the exercise enclosure, one hand on the chain link fence for support. It's a bad day for his leg, and it's good to be able to pace properly (his cell is too small really) but the lack of support for his leg since he’s been in solitary is beginning to take its toll.
He wouldn't use the cane in his cell, even if had one. The cell was too narrow for that but when he was being moved between his cell and exercise, or the showers; it would help a lot to have it. He's entitled to it, he was noted as disabled when he first arrived at the jail and issued a cane. He had been warned when he first saw the medical staff in the prison that if he 'lost' the cane he'd be lucky to get another. It had been taken by Mendelson after his threats to House and it hadn't been returned to him after he was moved here. He suspects that short of being unable to walk at all (in which case a wheelchair would be issued) he wouldn't have been allowed to use it in solitary anyway. Maybe when he gets back to gen pop he can agitate for a new one, although he suspects that Doctor Sykes won't be very cooperative after what happened with Adams and Nick.
He reaches the end of the run and stops there, hanging onto the fence, keeping his right leg off the ground. There's a prisoner in the run next to his, a black guy, walking laps much like he is. The guy's paying no attention to him and House watches him idly as he walks back towards the end of the run. There's something in the way the guy walks, a hesitation. It might be an injury, to his knee perhaps, or maybe the beginnings of something degenerative. He watches him more closely, while he leans against the fence, trying to detect any more symptoms.
"House!" One of the prison officers is yelling at him, walking up alongside the fence on the outside, hand on his baton. House straightens up and looks away from the other prisoner.
"Get the fuck off the fence. What are you staring at him for?"
House remembers that the officers don't like the prisoners interacting much out here, although they'll allow a few shouted words. His staring at the guy could be interpreted as aggression, as a threat. He's not supposed to be touching the fence either, but the officers usually let that slide, probably because they can see that he sometimes need the support. He doesn't want a face full of mace so he moves away from the fence and looks down at the ground. He knows the guard doesn't really want an answer; he had just wanted House to stop doing whatever he was doing wrong. So he doesn't bother answering, he just starts walking down the middle of the run, each step slow; he clutches his leg to try and give it the support it's missing.
When he gets to the end he looks back, he can't do any more walking, not now. Not with his leg like this. Instead he sits down on the ground and stares at the patches of sky he can see through the mesh and the wire that surrounds him, breathes in the fresh air and waits for the exercise time to finish.
He doesn't think about the prisoner with the strange hesitation in his movements. That's not his job now, and he isn't risking any more jail time by trying to make it his job.
Wilson lets himself into his condo after returning from the airport. The place is empty and quiet, and a slightly stale smell hangs in the air. Sarah, his cat, is with Nora, his upstairs neighbour; he'll pick her up tomorrow.
He hauls his suitcase into the bedroom and begins to unpack. The conference had been a three day one, crammed with presentations and seminars. He'd given a paper himself, and attended the presentation of many others. He'd met up with colleagues from all around America and some overseas ones as well. It had been exhausting but professionally satisfying.
In recent years he had curtailed much of his conference going, he didn't like to be away from House for too long, in case some disaster or catastrophe struck while he was away. He shudders as he thinks of the infarction, when he'd been overseas on those fateful few days when House had first been admitted to hospital. By the time he'd gotten back Stacy had made her decision and House had already been operated on. Walking back into that situation had not been pleasant, to say the least.
Now he's free to go to any conference he wants, talk to anyone he wants without House lurking in corners stalking him and spying on him. Of course many of the doctors at the conference had heard about what House did, and where he was currently residing, and many of them had wanted to talk to him about it, Wilson being acknowledged in the medical world as the foremost authority on House. He'd deflected their questions, informed them that he wasn't in touch with House any longer. They'd all reassured him he was doing the right thing by keeping his distance. It had been a good conference, a nice change away from the daily routine at PPTH.
He finishes putting away his clothes and stowing his suitcase away; the condo is quiet and empty after the noise and activity of the conference. In different times, he would have come home from a rare conference to find House had used his key to make himself at home. He'd be camped out on his furniture, eating his food, and drinking his alcohol. Wilson would have yelled at him some, and House would have grumbled, and then they would have ordered pizza or Chinese and settled in for a night of movie watching.
Wilson decides to go and get Sarah tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow.
Characters: House with small bits of various others
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For everything up to and including Twenty Vicodins
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 of Solitary'. Click for previous part
Day 20 Wednesday 26th October 2011
Exercise isn’t much, but it’s a chance to get out of his cell, and into the fresh air. That one precious hour has become the highlight of each twenty four hours for him, it’s worth tolerating the handcuffs and the chains and the eternal presence of the guards, who are always too close to him.
When he shuffles into the run and they uncuff him he looks around, it’s a nice day, the sun is out and the air temperature is pleasant. He’s in a wire and steel enclosure, and the comparison to a dog run is unavoidable, but it still seems incredibly open compared to his tiny cell.
He walks along the exercise enclosure, one hand on the chain link fence for support. It's a bad day for his leg, and it's good to be able to pace properly (his cell is too small really) but the lack of support for his leg since he’s been in solitary is beginning to take its toll.
He wouldn't use the cane in his cell, even if had one. The cell was too narrow for that but when he was being moved between his cell and exercise, or the showers; it would help a lot to have it. He's entitled to it, he was noted as disabled when he first arrived at the jail and issued a cane. He had been warned when he first saw the medical staff in the prison that if he 'lost' the cane he'd be lucky to get another. It had been taken by Mendelson after his threats to House and it hadn't been returned to him after he was moved here. He suspects that short of being unable to walk at all (in which case a wheelchair would be issued) he wouldn't have been allowed to use it in solitary anyway. Maybe when he gets back to gen pop he can agitate for a new one, although he suspects that Doctor Sykes won't be very cooperative after what happened with Adams and Nick.
He reaches the end of the run and stops there, hanging onto the fence, keeping his right leg off the ground. There's a prisoner in the run next to his, a black guy, walking laps much like he is. The guy's paying no attention to him and House watches him idly as he walks back towards the end of the run. There's something in the way the guy walks, a hesitation. It might be an injury, to his knee perhaps, or maybe the beginnings of something degenerative. He watches him more closely, while he leans against the fence, trying to detect any more symptoms.
"House!" One of the prison officers is yelling at him, walking up alongside the fence on the outside, hand on his baton. House straightens up and looks away from the other prisoner.
"Get the fuck off the fence. What are you staring at him for?"
House remembers that the officers don't like the prisoners interacting much out here, although they'll allow a few shouted words. His staring at the guy could be interpreted as aggression, as a threat. He's not supposed to be touching the fence either, but the officers usually let that slide, probably because they can see that he sometimes need the support. He doesn't want a face full of mace so he moves away from the fence and looks down at the ground. He knows the guard doesn't really want an answer; he had just wanted House to stop doing whatever he was doing wrong. So he doesn't bother answering, he just starts walking down the middle of the run, each step slow; he clutches his leg to try and give it the support it's missing.
When he gets to the end he looks back, he can't do any more walking, not now. Not with his leg like this. Instead he sits down on the ground and stares at the patches of sky he can see through the mesh and the wire that surrounds him, breathes in the fresh air and waits for the exercise time to finish.
He doesn't think about the prisoner with the strange hesitation in his movements. That's not his job now, and he isn't risking any more jail time by trying to make it his job.
Wilson lets himself into his condo after returning from the airport. The place is empty and quiet, and a slightly stale smell hangs in the air. Sarah, his cat, is with Nora, his upstairs neighbour; he'll pick her up tomorrow.
He hauls his suitcase into the bedroom and begins to unpack. The conference had been a three day one, crammed with presentations and seminars. He'd given a paper himself, and attended the presentation of many others. He'd met up with colleagues from all around America and some overseas ones as well. It had been exhausting but professionally satisfying.
In recent years he had curtailed much of his conference going, he didn't like to be away from House for too long, in case some disaster or catastrophe struck while he was away. He shudders as he thinks of the infarction, when he'd been overseas on those fateful few days when House had first been admitted to hospital. By the time he'd gotten back Stacy had made her decision and House had already been operated on. Walking back into that situation had not been pleasant, to say the least.
Now he's free to go to any conference he wants, talk to anyone he wants without House lurking in corners stalking him and spying on him. Of course many of the doctors at the conference had heard about what House did, and where he was currently residing, and many of them had wanted to talk to him about it, Wilson being acknowledged in the medical world as the foremost authority on House. He'd deflected their questions, informed them that he wasn't in touch with House any longer. They'd all reassured him he was doing the right thing by keeping his distance. It had been a good conference, a nice change away from the daily routine at PPTH.
He finishes putting away his clothes and stowing his suitcase away; the condo is quiet and empty after the noise and activity of the conference. In different times, he would have come home from a rare conference to find House had used his key to make himself at home. He'd be camped out on his furniture, eating his food, and drinking his alcohol. Wilson would have yelled at him some, and House would have grumbled, and then they would have ordered pizza or Chinese and settled in for a night of movie watching.
Wilson decides to go and get Sarah tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-07-15 10:57 pm (UTC)And you've painted a great parallel between House's and Wilson's situations. House's hour out of the cell gives him some space and air, but he's still isolated. Wilson's freedom from House gives him the space to go more places, but he's almost completely alone -- Even at the medical conference, the other doctors want to talk to him about House; it must him feel invisible when he's better known as someone else's friend than as himself.
Good stuff.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-16 07:28 am (UTC)It would be galling fo Wilson if the only thing he's really known for is his connection with House, although I don't know how true that is. I think definitely around PPTH he would be known as 'House's only friend', or maybe 'that poor guy, Wilson with the lunatic friend; :)
Thanks for reading and commenting :)
no subject
Date: 2012-07-16 04:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-16 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 07:48 am (UTC)Thanks for reading :)
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 07:50 am (UTC)Thanks for reading :)
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 04:41 pm (UTC)Fascinating character study you have going here.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-17 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-23 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-23 09:10 pm (UTC)