Fic : Thirty Days of Solitary 25/30
Jul. 21st, 2012 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Thirty Days of Solitary 25/30
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
damigella_314. Without her constant help and encouragement this story would be called 'Five Days of Solitary'.
Click for previous part
Day 25 Monday 31st October 2011
It takes House until halfway through the day before he realises that it's Halloween, out there in the real world. The world with people in it, where things like Halloween still matter. He's lying on his bunk, staring at the grimy, blocked over, window in the wall when the date suddenly registers with him.
Halloween had been a holiday that had meant little to him as a child, and an excuse for partying hard as young adult. In recent years he'd enjoyed scaring off any children that dared to come to his apartment door. Wilson, of course, would frown at him and instead hand the children some candy from the packets he had brought around and tell them to ignore the grumpy old man with the cane. Good times. He smiles at the memory. He wonders if he'll ever spend another Halloween with Wilson. House is still tossing up whether to go back to Fiji after his stint in purgatory is done – if it ever is - but even if he does decide to stay in the States it seems likely that Wilson won't want anything to do with him. Not after what House did to him. House wonders if Wilson is angrier about Cuddy's house or his own wrist. Knowing Wilson it's Cuddy's house.
If Wilson had forgiven him, or at least come to terms with what happened, he would have visited, House is sure of that. He'd never leave him to rot in here alone for so long. He'd always bailed him out of jail in the past, even if it was with sighs, and hands on hips, and long suffering lectures.
No, Wilson was still angry, still pissed at House, maybe because of what House did, or maybe because House didn't accept the help he'd offered. Wilson had offered him a clear alternative, go to a bar and get drunk. House could have taken that lifeline, but he'd had to go to Cuddy's house to return the stupid hairbrush he'd been hanging onto, so he could call it finished in his mind - obtain closure, no doubt Nolan would have said.
Once he'd seen Cuddy's date, and realised that she'd lied to him, that she couldn't be honest even about that, he'd lost any sense that Wilson was there, except for telling him to get out of the car. At least he'd done that, he'd enough sense to try and protect Wilson from what he was going to do. And then the klutz had gotten in the way.
House closes his eyes and shudders at the memory. He can remember every second of what happened. He can remember driving to the end of the road and then deciding. He can remember turning and driving back, his foot going down hard on the accelerator. He’d been so angry, so full of jealousy and grief and rage that nothing had mattered except smashing into that house. He'd known that the room was empty; at least he'd thought that far ahead. He remembers Wilson jumping out of the way of the car. As that had happened he'd had a brief moment of doubt as to what he was about to do, but it had been too late and then the car had smashed through. He'd felt... a sense of calm, of relief even when the car had shuddered to a halt. He'd known that he'd burned all his bridges, swept all the pieces off the table. He'd felt almost euphoric. It had meant nothing to him, when he'd seen Cuddy's trembling hand, the shocked faces of her guests, when he'd walked past Wilson on the sidewalk. Wilson's pain had meant nothing to him. He hadn’t cared – he’d felt euphoric, cleansed, and at peace with himself for the first time in a long time, he’d been happy. He’d hurt both his friends, his only friends, deeply and he’d been happy. What sort of friend did that make him?
He opens his eyes and slams his hand down straight onto the scar on his thigh, fingers digging in. The shock of pain sends his head rocking back, and tears come to his eyes. The memories are gone, destroyed by the pain and he's thankful. He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to think about any of it.
The hospital is having a Halloween fundraising party in the lobby. It's Foreman's first major event since becoming Dean and he's put a lot of time and effort into making sure it's perfect. The hospital staff are all there, dressed in a wide variety of costumes, they all appear to be having a great time. Food and drink are both flowing, and it's a good chance to forget the stress of work and celebrate.
Wilson is at the party, mingling with his colleagues. He always makes a point of attending these functions as it’s good hospital politics. He's approached by many of the hospital's female staff and he politely entertains them all. He flirts with a few but his heart isn't in it – after Sam left he's found it hard to look for yet another partner. Three wives, Amber, and then Sam again, it’s like he is incapable of forming a long term, successful, relationship with a woman. He’s not sure he wants to try again and face yet another failure. Maybe he's just reconciled himself to being alone.
He goes to the temporary bar to refresh his drink and catches a glimpse of one of the radiology techs in their costume. He is leaning on a wooden cane, sporting stubble, and is wearing a garish orange prison type coverall. Around one of his wrists he has a set of plastic handcuffs dangling. There's no mistaking who he is dressed as and Wilson feels a cold anger. What House did was wrong, and Wilson is through being his friend, but seeing the man laughing as some of the other staff admire his 'costume' is too much for him. The man and his friends turn around to see Wilson staring at them and their laughter fades off, the technician stares at the ground and the others look away.
Wilson puts down his drink and walks out of the party.
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)
Click for previous part
Day 25 Monday 31st October 2011
It takes House until halfway through the day before he realises that it's Halloween, out there in the real world. The world with people in it, where things like Halloween still matter. He's lying on his bunk, staring at the grimy, blocked over, window in the wall when the date suddenly registers with him.
Halloween had been a holiday that had meant little to him as a child, and an excuse for partying hard as young adult. In recent years he'd enjoyed scaring off any children that dared to come to his apartment door. Wilson, of course, would frown at him and instead hand the children some candy from the packets he had brought around and tell them to ignore the grumpy old man with the cane. Good times. He smiles at the memory. He wonders if he'll ever spend another Halloween with Wilson. House is still tossing up whether to go back to Fiji after his stint in purgatory is done – if it ever is - but even if he does decide to stay in the States it seems likely that Wilson won't want anything to do with him. Not after what House did to him. House wonders if Wilson is angrier about Cuddy's house or his own wrist. Knowing Wilson it's Cuddy's house.
If Wilson had forgiven him, or at least come to terms with what happened, he would have visited, House is sure of that. He'd never leave him to rot in here alone for so long. He'd always bailed him out of jail in the past, even if it was with sighs, and hands on hips, and long suffering lectures.
No, Wilson was still angry, still pissed at House, maybe because of what House did, or maybe because House didn't accept the help he'd offered. Wilson had offered him a clear alternative, go to a bar and get drunk. House could have taken that lifeline, but he'd had to go to Cuddy's house to return the stupid hairbrush he'd been hanging onto, so he could call it finished in his mind - obtain closure, no doubt Nolan would have said.
Once he'd seen Cuddy's date, and realised that she'd lied to him, that she couldn't be honest even about that, he'd lost any sense that Wilson was there, except for telling him to get out of the car. At least he'd done that, he'd enough sense to try and protect Wilson from what he was going to do. And then the klutz had gotten in the way.
House closes his eyes and shudders at the memory. He can remember every second of what happened. He can remember driving to the end of the road and then deciding. He can remember turning and driving back, his foot going down hard on the accelerator. He’d been so angry, so full of jealousy and grief and rage that nothing had mattered except smashing into that house. He'd known that the room was empty; at least he'd thought that far ahead. He remembers Wilson jumping out of the way of the car. As that had happened he'd had a brief moment of doubt as to what he was about to do, but it had been too late and then the car had smashed through. He'd felt... a sense of calm, of relief even when the car had shuddered to a halt. He'd known that he'd burned all his bridges, swept all the pieces off the table. He'd felt almost euphoric. It had meant nothing to him, when he'd seen Cuddy's trembling hand, the shocked faces of her guests, when he'd walked past Wilson on the sidewalk. Wilson's pain had meant nothing to him. He hadn’t cared – he’d felt euphoric, cleansed, and at peace with himself for the first time in a long time, he’d been happy. He’d hurt both his friends, his only friends, deeply and he’d been happy. What sort of friend did that make him?
He opens his eyes and slams his hand down straight onto the scar on his thigh, fingers digging in. The shock of pain sends his head rocking back, and tears come to his eyes. The memories are gone, destroyed by the pain and he's thankful. He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to think about any of it.
The hospital is having a Halloween fundraising party in the lobby. It's Foreman's first major event since becoming Dean and he's put a lot of time and effort into making sure it's perfect. The hospital staff are all there, dressed in a wide variety of costumes, they all appear to be having a great time. Food and drink are both flowing, and it's a good chance to forget the stress of work and celebrate.
Wilson is at the party, mingling with his colleagues. He always makes a point of attending these functions as it’s good hospital politics. He's approached by many of the hospital's female staff and he politely entertains them all. He flirts with a few but his heart isn't in it – after Sam left he's found it hard to look for yet another partner. Three wives, Amber, and then Sam again, it’s like he is incapable of forming a long term, successful, relationship with a woman. He’s not sure he wants to try again and face yet another failure. Maybe he's just reconciled himself to being alone.
He goes to the temporary bar to refresh his drink and catches a glimpse of one of the radiology techs in their costume. He is leaning on a wooden cane, sporting stubble, and is wearing a garish orange prison type coverall. Around one of his wrists he has a set of plastic handcuffs dangling. There's no mistaking who he is dressed as and Wilson feels a cold anger. What House did was wrong, and Wilson is through being his friend, but seeing the man laughing as some of the other staff admire his 'costume' is too much for him. The man and his friends turn around to see Wilson staring at them and their laughter fades off, the technician stares at the ground and the others look away.
Wilson puts down his drink and walks out of the party.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-22 08:47 pm (UTC)