Fic: Time of Death
I wrote this almost a year ago. I was digging around through my old fics and found it. It was a little rough, which is probably why I never posted it. Reading back over it, I kinda like it. Very different format than I am used to writing. Heed the warnings.
Title: Time of Death
Rating: R
Pairing: House and Wilson
Word Count: 579
Summary: A week is a long time when you lose someone you love
Warnings: Death fic
Disclaimer: *checks* Nope, don't own them.
Saturday. 3:25pm: Time of Death.
House looked down at the too-still body. He wanted to reach out, to touch the skin. But he couldn’t. The cold feel of death would be too much. Make it too real.
Sunday, 4:30pm: The Funeral
Wilson was laid to rest. Cold body into colder ground.
House shivered.
Sunday, 5:10pm: Forgetting
House got so drunk, that he spent the next 3 hours babbling about all of the things that he had left unsaid….
Sunday, 8:33pm: Remembering
…then cried himself to sleep on the couch.
Monday, 2:28am: Dreaming
Warm hands touched him. Warm lips kissed him. Warm brown eyes gazed into his own. Together they waited for the morning.
Monday, 7:55am: Mourning
House didn’t want to get out of bed. He never wanted to again. If he stayed and concentrated, maybe he could still feel Wilson’s touch upon his cheek as he said goodbye.
Monday, 12:10pm: Choices
House sat down at the piano. A full bottle of booze and a full refill of Vicodin sitting next to him. His hands shook as he reached out.
Monday, 12:12pm: Decisions
House swallowed one pill, two. A sip of beer. He reached out again…
Monday, 12:16pm: Drowning
…and touched the piano keys softly, the sound pure. He played for hours, loosing himself in the complex melodies until the medley came to a crashing end of jumbled notes. Funny thing about how similar most endings can be.
Tuesday, 9am: Can’t Go Home
House showed up to work, despite having the week off. He couldn’t spend another day with nothing to do but remember the good times.
Tuesday, 3:34pm: Good Times
He laughed until he had tears in his eyes. Cameron left with tears in her own.
Tuesday, 10pm: Home is Where the Heart is
Cuddy forced him to go home.
House stood just inside the doorway, eyes surveying his empty apartment, heart breaking with each tick of the clock.
Tuesday, 10:29pm: Gone
House fell into bed, still dressed. His leg throbbed, but he didn’t care. Again he cried, but this time there was no Wilson in his dreams to comfort him.
Wednesday, 11 something am: House, Where did you Go?
The next day was a blur of pain, pain, and more pain. The phone rang at least a half dozen times and Chase stopped by once. Chase quickly left when the sound of the phone being tossed against the door alerted him that House was indeed alive inside.
House went to bed in a tangle of sheets and yesterday’s clothes.
Thursday, 8:10am: Waking Up
House slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times to grease their rusty-feeling hinges. He showered. He brushed his teeth. He ate breakfast. He played the piano. Fuck, he missed Wilson.
Friday, 11am: Cuddy, MD
He ranted. He fumed. Cuddy smiled and sent him to the clinic for two hours…
Friday, 11:10am: Distractions
…House ended up staying for 5.
Friday, 11:45pm: Holding
House fell into bed, exhausted, but freshly showered and clean-clothed. He pulled a spare pillow towards himself and clung to it as he fell asleep.
Saturday, 10:33am: Fading
Sunlight tickled his face awake. House gingerly got out of bed and took two Vicodin. He lay back down and waited for the pain to lessen. It finally did and he got up to brew some coffee and flip through a week’s worth of mail.
Saturday: 3:25pm: Beginnings
One week. House looked at the time on the clock.
It was time to start living again.
Title: Time of Death
Rating: R
Pairing: House and Wilson
Word Count: 579
Summary: A week is a long time when you lose someone you love
Warnings: Death fic
Disclaimer: *checks* Nope, don't own them.
Saturday. 3:25pm: Time of Death.
House looked down at the too-still body. He wanted to reach out, to touch the skin. But he couldn’t. The cold feel of death would be too much. Make it too real.
Sunday, 4:30pm: The Funeral
Wilson was laid to rest. Cold body into colder ground.
House shivered.
Sunday, 5:10pm: Forgetting
House got so drunk, that he spent the next 3 hours babbling about all of the things that he had left unsaid….
Sunday, 8:33pm: Remembering
…then cried himself to sleep on the couch.
Monday, 2:28am: Dreaming
Warm hands touched him. Warm lips kissed him. Warm brown eyes gazed into his own. Together they waited for the morning.
Monday, 7:55am: Mourning
House didn’t want to get out of bed. He never wanted to again. If he stayed and concentrated, maybe he could still feel Wilson’s touch upon his cheek as he said goodbye.
Monday, 12:10pm: Choices
House sat down at the piano. A full bottle of booze and a full refill of Vicodin sitting next to him. His hands shook as he reached out.
Monday, 12:12pm: Decisions
House swallowed one pill, two. A sip of beer. He reached out again…
Monday, 12:16pm: Drowning
…and touched the piano keys softly, the sound pure. He played for hours, loosing himself in the complex melodies until the medley came to a crashing end of jumbled notes. Funny thing about how similar most endings can be.
Tuesday, 9am: Can’t Go Home
House showed up to work, despite having the week off. He couldn’t spend another day with nothing to do but remember the good times.
Tuesday, 3:34pm: Good Times
He laughed until he had tears in his eyes. Cameron left with tears in her own.
Tuesday, 10pm: Home is Where the Heart is
Cuddy forced him to go home.
House stood just inside the doorway, eyes surveying his empty apartment, heart breaking with each tick of the clock.
Tuesday, 10:29pm: Gone
House fell into bed, still dressed. His leg throbbed, but he didn’t care. Again he cried, but this time there was no Wilson in his dreams to comfort him.
Wednesday, 11 something am: House, Where did you Go?
The next day was a blur of pain, pain, and more pain. The phone rang at least a half dozen times and Chase stopped by once. Chase quickly left when the sound of the phone being tossed against the door alerted him that House was indeed alive inside.
House went to bed in a tangle of sheets and yesterday’s clothes.
Thursday, 8:10am: Waking Up
House slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times to grease their rusty-feeling hinges. He showered. He brushed his teeth. He ate breakfast. He played the piano. Fuck, he missed Wilson.
Friday, 11am: Cuddy, MD
He ranted. He fumed. Cuddy smiled and sent him to the clinic for two hours…
Friday, 11:10am: Distractions
…House ended up staying for 5.
Friday, 11:45pm: Holding
House fell into bed, exhausted, but freshly showered and clean-clothed. He pulled a spare pillow towards himself and clung to it as he fell asleep.
Saturday, 10:33am: Fading
Sunlight tickled his face awake. House gingerly got out of bed and took two Vicodin. He lay back down and waited for the pain to lessen. It finally did and he got up to brew some coffee and flip through a week’s worth of mail.
Saturday: 3:25pm: Beginnings
One week. House looked at the time on the clock.
It was time to start living again.