"Watch--" House snapped - watch where you're going, he was going to say - but stopped short when he realised who it was. He almost reeled back from her in shock. He shouldn't have been shocked because Wilson had said she was here - but seeing Stacy here, right now, right in front of him, threw him right off guard.
A memory flashed through his mind, of the last time this happened - back in Princeton. Going to the lecture Cuddy had made him do and as he'd walked through the clinic, he'd heard his name being called out and turned to see Stacy. That had been a shock enough. He hadn't expected to see her and he didn't know what to make of seeing her either. This felt exactly the same.
He took a step back, feeling pale. Wilson was right. Part of him had hoped that Wilson had been pulling some sick kind of practical joke.
"Stacy," he replied. He searched his brain for something to say - you're really here; what're you doing here; you're looking well. Nothing seemed right, so he just stood there, watching her face almost in disbelief.
Wilson. The mention of Wilson reminded House of how Wilson had looked the last time he saw him, and he lowered his gaze to the floor as he set his jaw. Then it occurred to him that Stacy would've seen Wilson as House saw him, and he glanced back up to her with his eyes. Shit, that must've terrified her. Being stuck in this place was terrifying enough, let alone seeing Wilson as a shadow of his former self.
"Yeah, I know," he replied after an awkward pause. He paused again, then added reluctantly, "He told me you were here."
House looked back down to the floor and then threw a glance up past Stacy's shoulder down the end of the hallway. Now he had confirmation she was here, even if he couldn't really believe it, he kind of wanted to flee. Running away from Stacy wasn't going to solve anything, though - she was still here, and where could he really go that he could escape her for good?
He drew his eyes back to Stacy's face again. "How've you been holding up?" he asked.
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A memory flashed through his mind, of the last time this happened - back in Princeton. Going to the lecture Cuddy had made him do and as he'd walked through the clinic, he'd heard his name being called out and turned to see Stacy. That had been a shock enough. He hadn't expected to see her and he didn't know what to make of seeing her either. This felt exactly the same.
He took a step back, feeling pale. Wilson was right. Part of him had hoped that Wilson had been pulling some sick kind of practical joke.
"Stacy," he replied. He searched his brain for something to say - you're really here; what're you doing here; you're looking well. Nothing seemed right, so he just stood there, watching her face almost in disbelief.
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"Yeah, I know," he replied after an awkward pause. He paused again, then added reluctantly, "He told me you were here."
House looked back down to the floor and then threw a glance up past Stacy's shoulder down the end of the hallway. Now he had confirmation she was here, even if he couldn't really believe it, he kind of wanted to flee. Running away from Stacy wasn't going to solve anything, though - she was still here, and where could he really go that he could escape her for good?
He drew his eyes back to Stacy's face again. "How've you been holding up?" he asked.
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