Gentle Knock - Chapter 49
Title: A Gentle Knock at the Door, Chapter 49
Author: zeppomarx
Characters: You know who the characters are by now: House, Wilson, Cuddy, etc.
Warnings and So On: NC-17 for concepts. H/W friendship (perhaps slash if you wear those kind of goggles)
Summary: For anyone who missed the lecture at the beginning of class: House is a physical and emotional mess, having been wrongly imprisoned and tortured and all sorts of nasty stuff. It's about what happens next, and how House deals with it. A sequel to Priority's Exigencies, which is a sequel to DIY Sheep's The Contract, which has spawned an incredible number of offshoots.
Timeline: Set nearly a year after the beginning of Exigencies.
Earlier chapters: Chapters 1-16 here. Chapters 18-43 here. Chapters 44-? here.
Comments: I like getting comments. Comments are good. If you're one of those people who reads but never says anything, I'd really like to encourage you to come out of the woodwork and write to me. It means a tremendous amount to the writer, who -- in my case -- has devoted half a year to this story, thus far. So please, come out wherever you are and post a comment.
Oh, Yeah, the Disclaimer: Don't you get tired of reading the same old same old here all the time? I know I do. It's pretty obvious I don't own this stuff, I'm not going to sell it and I'm just doing this for fun. There. I've said it. And I'm glad. Glad, do you hear me? Glaaad!
SUMMARY: Putting the brakes on. Wilson seeks help. House explains what will happen after they leave the hospital. Wilson smites his forehead. A cry of pain...
TEASER: Vulnerability Exposed...
___________________________________________
A Gentle Knock at the Door
Chapter 49
Now, to tell Rainie.
When he got back to the room, she was awake and trying to read.
An orderly helped him back onto the bed. He waited until the door shut.
She put her book down and looked at him over her glasses. Before he had a chance to say anything, she started talking.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she said, “and I think we need to separate these beds.”
Now it was House’s jaw that dropped open. Was everybody psychic today? He snapped it shut.
“Funny you should say that. I just got back from Cuddy’s office and told her the same thing.”
Rainie didn’t seem surprised.
“I hope…” she started, “… that you don’t feel you have to leave the room. I just think it’s too dangerous to stay this close, after last night.” She could still feel his hands on her face and his kiss on her lips. A shiver went through her.
“My thought exactly,” said House, who was having trouble looking at her without thinking about how much he was going to miss having her by his side at night. “We’re both smart, adult people, but we’re also both vulnerable and, apparently, emotionally engaged. We talked about putting the brakes on, so that’s the best way to start. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“One other thing you need to know. You’re going to be discharged soon. Very early on, I made arrangements for you to have a place to live and receive full-time care.”
“You did? That’s… nice.” She wasn’t sure how she actually felt. It was, indeed, nice to know she had a place to go to, that she wouldn’t have to live her whole life in this hospital, or have to fend for herself. But going to a strange place, a lonely place, after all this intimacy, was frightening.
“Well, maybe not so nice. The place I arranged for was the guest room in my apartment. Your room is being fixed up for you. Been in the works for weeks.”
The corners of her mouth turned up and she started to laugh. Not another hysterical-verging-on-crying kind of laugh, but a real, hearty, genuine laugh. He immediately saw the humor in the situation. Once he got passed his anxiety, he laughed with her.
“Now that’s funny,” she said, when she finally got her breath. “Here I was, thinking you were going to foist me off on strangers.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “I need to keep an eye on you. Otherwise, you’ll be off antagonizing hapless defense attorneys and running down murderous doctors in your wheelchair. Can’t have that.”
This made her laugh even more.
“Of course, this doesn’t solve our problem, does it? Moving me into your home doesn’t exactly keep us distant from our mutual feelings.”
Don’t encourage her. Find the right impartial tone.
“Ah, but here’s the part you didn’t know. Mother Wilson lives next door. He won’t let us get away with anything.”
The idea of House calling Wilson “Mother Wilson,” plus the fact that he lived next door to House, was just too much. She started hiccupping with laughter.
“Okay, okay. Slow it down. Not that funny.” In fact, at the moment, it wasn’t funny at all. Wilson showing up in the middle of the night might have a tendency to cramp his style, should it lead to that. But of course it couldn’t lead to that. He had to make sure it didn’t. Way too complex. Some serious ground rules were going to have to be laid down all the way around.
She took a couple of deep breaths.
“Better?”
“Yup.”
“Good, because here they come to separate the beds.”
Since the night before, House and Rainie had been very careful not to touch, not even once. But just before the beds were pulled apart, she gently touched his arm. He jolted as if a current had just run through him. He put his hand on hers, and she felt the current coming back to her. As he was swept away, they clasped hands, then touched fingers for a moment until they were literally out of reach of each other.
* * * *
As she finished up with a patient, Jacey Liu’s cell phone rang.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure. Come on up.”
A few minutes later, James Wilson settled himself into a chair across from her desk.
“I think I need… to talk to someone,” he said, sighing.
“I’m here,” replied Jacey, not terribly surprised to see him.
“It’s House. He’s… I don’t know… well, I’m afraid he just can’t handle all this.”
“And why is that?” she asked. She kept her features neutral.
As she looked at him, she knew it wasn’t really House who couldn’t handle all this. It was Wilson himself. She’d seen it before. Things were changing much too fast for him, and he couldn’t keep up. Once someone like House really started to find his bearings again, things tended to move swiftly, often leaving the caregiver in the wake.
Jacey saw seated before her a man who was emotionally and physically depleted, who had devoted himself to caring for his friend around the clock, in part out of friendship and in part from a sense of obligation, because of what House had been willing to go through on his behalf.
As grueling as it was caring for a wounded soul, it was sometimes equally difficult for caregivers to start letting go when the time came, because so much of their self-worth had become wrapped up in the role they had taken on. They invested themselves with the notion that the person they cared for would never be able to function without them. That kind of dependency has a real appeal, making the caregiver feel important and giving them a sense of fulfillment.
For two years now, Wilson had nursed House back to a semblance of health, making all the decisions for the both of them. It was apparent that he was having trouble dealing with House’s transition from the shattered man he’d been to the independent person he was striving to become.
“I-I, um… well, dealing with Rainie has got to be taxing for him.”
“Of course it is,” she said. And then, prodding a little: “What makes you think he can’t handle it?”
Wilson looked up at her, startled. What was she suggesting?
“Because of everything he’s been through…” He let the sentence dangle for a moment expectantly, as if the end of the sentence were obvious. “…I just don’t think he’s ready.”
“Why not?”
“Well, how could he be?” Wilson sounded exasperated. How could she not see it? How could she not be aware that House had gotten in over his head? Why else would he have allowed himself to get involved like this? Especially after Pevey’s attack. How on earth could House handle taking care of Rainie? And why was he letting himself get emotionally involved-House, who never let himself get emotionally involved?
Jacey thought a moment before responding.
“Does he think he’s ready?”
This caught Wilson up short. He looked at her. To be blunt, he didn’t know, because the possibility had never occurred to him, and because he’d never bothered to ask.
“James, is it possible that he’s improving, and that maybe you’ve been a little too close to the situation to see it? Maybe he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. Maybe he’s willing to take the risk. Is it possible that he knows exactly what he’s gotten himself into?”
Somehow, he’d expected that Jacey would immediately recognize that House needed to back off and take care of himself before trying to care for someone else. Otherwise, Wilson was sure, he was in danger of sliding back into that terrible place he’d been in before, where he was incapable of functioning at all.
Instead, she seemed to be seeing something far different-not the Greg House who had lost his mind and wandered aimlessly for months. She was seeing a Greg House who was frail, yes, but who had found a real sense of purpose in the last few weeks, who was gaining strength from his new experiences.
Maybe he was too close to things. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted, he argued with himself, for House to get better, to be able to have a life again?
He sighed again, feeling uneasy.
Perhaps, he thought, he was the one being unreasonable. Perhaps.
“M-maybe. But… but don’t you think this is dangerous, this business with Rainie? Couldn’t he get hurt?”
“Certainly he could.” Jacey smiled. “May I ask you why the thought of his possibly getting hurt in this situation bothers you so much?”
Wilson felt as if he were in a fog. All of a sudden, his brain wasn’t working very well.
“It doesn’t bother me, not really.”
She looked at him sharply.
“Sure it does, James. Otherwise, why would you be here?”
Suddenly, Wilson found himself getting angry.
“I’m here because I’m concerned about my friend,” he said, raising his voice. “He’s going to hurt himself and you need to stop him.”
“No,” said Jacey, “I don’t. Sorry. Not my business. And not my job. Let me ask this again: Why does it bother you so much? Why does it bother you so much you’re getting angry at me just for asking the question?”
Wilson said nothing, perhaps because he had no answer. He was increasingly annoyed.
“Is it maybe because this change is scary for you? You’ve been so strong, and so caring for such a long time now, and things are shifting under your feet. The rules have changed, and maybe you don’t know what they are anymore.”
Wilson pursed his lips.
“Dammit, he got mad at me-told me he didn’t want me in the room any more.”
He waited. He was sure she was going to ask him how that made him feel. She didn’t. Instead, she told him how he felt.
“Other than surprising you and hurting your feelings, why is that a bad thing?”
He stared at her, uncomprehending.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I meant what I said. Why is his getting mad at you a bad thing?”
He had no answer for this one, either.
“What was he like when you first starting taking care of him? Was that man someone who would have felt safe getting angry with you, with asserting himself, with exerting some level of control over his circumstances?”
Suddenly, Wilson’s breath caught. No… no, of course not. That House didn’t do much of anything except shiver; if he reacted to anything at all, it was in fear. This House, he finally realized, was a lot more like the old House than anything he’d seen in six years. This House was making his own decisions and was willing to live with the consequences of his actions.
And yet he was somehow different. He’d begun morphing into a totally new House… and maybe that’s what was really upsetting Wilson, who didn’t know what that new House would be like… or whether there would be a place for him in new House’s world.
After thinking about it seriously for a long while, he finally answered calmly.
“No. No, he wouldn’t have. I guess-I guess, to be honest, I’m actually more afraid for myself than I realized. Now that he’s getting better, I guess I thought it would be like it was. I don’t want to lose the friendship I once had. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back again.”
Jacey smiled sympathetically.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, James, but you won’t. That friendship is gone.”
Wilson stared at her. He could feel his heart beating.
“What do you mean?”
She nodded her head.
“I mean it’s gone. Kaput. Listen to me carefully. This is not a bad thing. You two are friends who have both done truly remarkable things for each other. That’s not going to change.
Wilson found he was listening to her acutely, focusing on her intense brown eyes.
“Because of what you’ve both been through, you’ll never again have the friendship you once had. There’s no way those experiences couldn’t change things. However, by virtue of what’s happened, you two have forged a strong bond that’s not going to get broken because of a few dents and dings right now. I understand that it’s scary, because neither one of you quite knows what the new ground rules are. But you’ll find them, and you’ll work things out over time.”
Wilson nodded mutely.
“So what do I do now?” His emotions were a tempest, and he felt as if he were going to cry.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but I can suggest what not to do. Don’t try to force Greg into some mold you’ve created in your mind. What he’s going through is extraordinarily healthy for him. Let him go through it. If you can bring yourself to do it, encourage these changes, even if you find them frightening. And come talk to me when you need to.
“Let him grow, James. Let him grow.”
Wilson stumbled out of her office, dazed, with considerably more to think about than when he went in.
Jacey Liu sat at her desk, made some notes on a piece of paper… and smiled.
* * * *
Karen Langley and Ian Yeung spent the better part of the morning in room 304, discussing the upcoming surgeries with their patients.
Langley would operate on Rainie in a couple of days, easing into the endless series of surgeries she faced with a fairly simple knee operation on her right leg. The physical therapists had been working to strengthen her upper body so she could use a walker and then crutches at least some of the time. Following the surgery, she’d spend the night at the hospital and then recuperate in House’s guest room. Linda McAllister had visited House on a regular basis, so Rainie had already met her, which made it easier, and a couple of Linda’s colleagues would take up the remaining hours of each day.
Yeung had decided at the last minute that House was ready for an initial surgery on one of his hands. House had chosen his right hand, hoping that if it were successful-or even partially successful-he could use his dominant hand more easily.
He hadn’t mentioned this to anyone, but when he wasn’t having nightmares, he’d been dreaming of playing the piano. It was the first time since the horror began that his nighttime hours were filled with anything but fear and dread. He’d hear the music, sense the vibrations as the sounds filled him, feel the melodies and harmonies under his fingers, and then see his hands, whole again, on the keys. But when he awoke, it was always with an overpowering sense of bereavement. If there was any way to regain some of what he’d lost, he had to try.
His surgery would be a couple of hours earlier than Rainie’s, and then he’d spend the night back in room 304 so the two of them could go home together the following morning, barring complications.
The physical therapy team, which had started working with House as well as Rainie, would come to the apartment twice a day for sessions now, spending an hour with Rainie, followed by an hour with House.
* * * *
Wilson sat in his office and stared out the window. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Jacey Liu had said. His mind circled the ideas the conversation had generated as if he was running on a Möbius strip-around and around and around. And most of what he was thinking was this:
He was an idiot.
When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? If he’d just stayed out of it, House would have handled things quite well without him-as was apparent by the way he was… handling things quite well without him. But no! He had to play Mr. Fix-It once again. The end result being that House was pissed. Completely, utterly and quite justifiably pissed.
House was right. It was none of his damned business. He’d eavesdropped on a very private conversation, and then, instead of having the discretion and good grace to keep it to himself, had barged in where he wasn’t wanted… or needed.
He knew perfectly well from listening to House and Rainie that they were approaching this difficult development in an adult, reasonable manner and handling it as well as it could be handled.
So why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Where did he get off trying to control the situation? And why did he care so damn much that he kept doing these idiotic things?
He heard how it sounded as it came out of his mouth. After all these years, he should learn. Wilson prided himself on his restraint in dealing with patients, his ability to allow them to make their own decisions. Why couldn’t he do the same with House? Why couldn’t he just let him alone? Why did he always think he knew better? If nothing else, experience should have proved to him that he never knew better when it came to House.
And of all topics to preach about. He, of all people, was in no position to judge anyone else’s relationship with a patient.
No doubt about it. He was an idiot.
* * * *
A cry and a whimper floated over from the other bed the night before their surgeries. House opened his eyes and saw Rainie thrashing around. He knew it was one of two things: pain or a nightmare. Possibly both. And he was too far away to reach out to her, to help.
“Hey,” he called out. “You okay?”
The only answer was a hitched sigh and a low moan.
Nightmare?
He tried again.
“Rainie? Can you hear me?”
At first, nothing. Then, after a moment, a very small “yes” came his way.
He pressed the call button on his bed rail. Within seconds, the door whooshed open and Kate Marcus entered, the same young nurse he had banished a few nights earlier.
“Dr. House? What is it?”
“Check on Ms. Adler,” he commanded.
She immediately went over to Rainie’s bed.
“Ms. Adler?”
In the low light, he saw Rainie moving about, still crying out quietly.
“Are you in pain?”
“Uh-huh. Ohhhh…!”
“Up her pain meds,” said House.
The nurse looked hesitant.
“Do it.”
She did.
Within a few minutes, Rainie settled down and went to sleep.
House, on the other hand, never got back to sleep.
In short, a typical night.
NEXT: Catching His Breath...
Author: zeppomarx
Characters: You know who the characters are by now: House, Wilson, Cuddy, etc.
Warnings and So On: NC-17 for concepts. H/W friendship (perhaps slash if you wear those kind of goggles)
Summary: For anyone who missed the lecture at the beginning of class: House is a physical and emotional mess, having been wrongly imprisoned and tortured and all sorts of nasty stuff. It's about what happens next, and how House deals with it. A sequel to Priority's Exigencies, which is a sequel to DIY Sheep's The Contract, which has spawned an incredible number of offshoots.
Timeline: Set nearly a year after the beginning of Exigencies.
Earlier chapters: Chapters 1-16 here. Chapters 18-43 here. Chapters 44-? here.
Comments: I like getting comments. Comments are good. If you're one of those people who reads but never says anything, I'd really like to encourage you to come out of the woodwork and write to me. It means a tremendous amount to the writer, who -- in my case -- has devoted half a year to this story, thus far. So please, come out wherever you are and post a comment.
Oh, Yeah, the Disclaimer: Don't you get tired of reading the same old same old here all the time? I know I do. It's pretty obvious I don't own this stuff, I'm not going to sell it and I'm just doing this for fun. There. I've said it. And I'm glad. Glad, do you hear me? Glaaad!
SUMMARY: Putting the brakes on. Wilson seeks help. House explains what will happen after they leave the hospital. Wilson smites his forehead. A cry of pain...
TEASER: Vulnerability Exposed...
___________________________________________
A Gentle Knock at the Door
Chapter 49
Now, to tell Rainie.
When he got back to the room, she was awake and trying to read.
An orderly helped him back onto the bed. He waited until the door shut.
She put her book down and looked at him over her glasses. Before he had a chance to say anything, she started talking.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she said, “and I think we need to separate these beds.”
Now it was House’s jaw that dropped open. Was everybody psychic today? He snapped it shut.
“Funny you should say that. I just got back from Cuddy’s office and told her the same thing.”
Rainie didn’t seem surprised.
“I hope…” she started, “… that you don’t feel you have to leave the room. I just think it’s too dangerous to stay this close, after last night.” She could still feel his hands on her face and his kiss on her lips. A shiver went through her.
“My thought exactly,” said House, who was having trouble looking at her without thinking about how much he was going to miss having her by his side at night. “We’re both smart, adult people, but we’re also both vulnerable and, apparently, emotionally engaged. We talked about putting the brakes on, so that’s the best way to start. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“One other thing you need to know. You’re going to be discharged soon. Very early on, I made arrangements for you to have a place to live and receive full-time care.”
“You did? That’s… nice.” She wasn’t sure how she actually felt. It was, indeed, nice to know she had a place to go to, that she wouldn’t have to live her whole life in this hospital, or have to fend for herself. But going to a strange place, a lonely place, after all this intimacy, was frightening.
“Well, maybe not so nice. The place I arranged for was the guest room in my apartment. Your room is being fixed up for you. Been in the works for weeks.”
The corners of her mouth turned up and she started to laugh. Not another hysterical-verging-on-crying kind of laugh, but a real, hearty, genuine laugh. He immediately saw the humor in the situation. Once he got passed his anxiety, he laughed with her.
“Now that’s funny,” she said, when she finally got her breath. “Here I was, thinking you were going to foist me off on strangers.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “I need to keep an eye on you. Otherwise, you’ll be off antagonizing hapless defense attorneys and running down murderous doctors in your wheelchair. Can’t have that.”
This made her laugh even more.
“Of course, this doesn’t solve our problem, does it? Moving me into your home doesn’t exactly keep us distant from our mutual feelings.”
Don’t encourage her. Find the right impartial tone.
“Ah, but here’s the part you didn’t know. Mother Wilson lives next door. He won’t let us get away with anything.”
The idea of House calling Wilson “Mother Wilson,” plus the fact that he lived next door to House, was just too much. She started hiccupping with laughter.
“Okay, okay. Slow it down. Not that funny.” In fact, at the moment, it wasn’t funny at all. Wilson showing up in the middle of the night might have a tendency to cramp his style, should it lead to that. But of course it couldn’t lead to that. He had to make sure it didn’t. Way too complex. Some serious ground rules were going to have to be laid down all the way around.
She took a couple of deep breaths.
“Better?”
“Yup.”
“Good, because here they come to separate the beds.”
Since the night before, House and Rainie had been very careful not to touch, not even once. But just before the beds were pulled apart, she gently touched his arm. He jolted as if a current had just run through him. He put his hand on hers, and she felt the current coming back to her. As he was swept away, they clasped hands, then touched fingers for a moment until they were literally out of reach of each other.
* * * *
As she finished up with a patient, Jacey Liu’s cell phone rang.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure. Come on up.”
A few minutes later, James Wilson settled himself into a chair across from her desk.
“I think I need… to talk to someone,” he said, sighing.
“I’m here,” replied Jacey, not terribly surprised to see him.
“It’s House. He’s… I don’t know… well, I’m afraid he just can’t handle all this.”
“And why is that?” she asked. She kept her features neutral.
As she looked at him, she knew it wasn’t really House who couldn’t handle all this. It was Wilson himself. She’d seen it before. Things were changing much too fast for him, and he couldn’t keep up. Once someone like House really started to find his bearings again, things tended to move swiftly, often leaving the caregiver in the wake.
Jacey saw seated before her a man who was emotionally and physically depleted, who had devoted himself to caring for his friend around the clock, in part out of friendship and in part from a sense of obligation, because of what House had been willing to go through on his behalf.
As grueling as it was caring for a wounded soul, it was sometimes equally difficult for caregivers to start letting go when the time came, because so much of their self-worth had become wrapped up in the role they had taken on. They invested themselves with the notion that the person they cared for would never be able to function without them. That kind of dependency has a real appeal, making the caregiver feel important and giving them a sense of fulfillment.
For two years now, Wilson had nursed House back to a semblance of health, making all the decisions for the both of them. It was apparent that he was having trouble dealing with House’s transition from the shattered man he’d been to the independent person he was striving to become.
“I-I, um… well, dealing with Rainie has got to be taxing for him.”
“Of course it is,” she said. And then, prodding a little: “What makes you think he can’t handle it?”
Wilson looked up at her, startled. What was she suggesting?
“Because of everything he’s been through…” He let the sentence dangle for a moment expectantly, as if the end of the sentence were obvious. “…I just don’t think he’s ready.”
“Why not?”
“Well, how could he be?” Wilson sounded exasperated. How could she not see it? How could she not be aware that House had gotten in over his head? Why else would he have allowed himself to get involved like this? Especially after Pevey’s attack. How on earth could House handle taking care of Rainie? And why was he letting himself get emotionally involved-House, who never let himself get emotionally involved?
Jacey thought a moment before responding.
“Does he think he’s ready?”
This caught Wilson up short. He looked at her. To be blunt, he didn’t know, because the possibility had never occurred to him, and because he’d never bothered to ask.
“James, is it possible that he’s improving, and that maybe you’ve been a little too close to the situation to see it? Maybe he’s fully aware of what he’s doing. Maybe he’s willing to take the risk. Is it possible that he knows exactly what he’s gotten himself into?”
Somehow, he’d expected that Jacey would immediately recognize that House needed to back off and take care of himself before trying to care for someone else. Otherwise, Wilson was sure, he was in danger of sliding back into that terrible place he’d been in before, where he was incapable of functioning at all.
Instead, she seemed to be seeing something far different-not the Greg House who had lost his mind and wandered aimlessly for months. She was seeing a Greg House who was frail, yes, but who had found a real sense of purpose in the last few weeks, who was gaining strength from his new experiences.
Maybe he was too close to things. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted, he argued with himself, for House to get better, to be able to have a life again?
He sighed again, feeling uneasy.
Perhaps, he thought, he was the one being unreasonable. Perhaps.
“M-maybe. But… but don’t you think this is dangerous, this business with Rainie? Couldn’t he get hurt?”
“Certainly he could.” Jacey smiled. “May I ask you why the thought of his possibly getting hurt in this situation bothers you so much?”
Wilson felt as if he were in a fog. All of a sudden, his brain wasn’t working very well.
“It doesn’t bother me, not really.”
She looked at him sharply.
“Sure it does, James. Otherwise, why would you be here?”
Suddenly, Wilson found himself getting angry.
“I’m here because I’m concerned about my friend,” he said, raising his voice. “He’s going to hurt himself and you need to stop him.”
“No,” said Jacey, “I don’t. Sorry. Not my business. And not my job. Let me ask this again: Why does it bother you so much? Why does it bother you so much you’re getting angry at me just for asking the question?”
Wilson said nothing, perhaps because he had no answer. He was increasingly annoyed.
“Is it maybe because this change is scary for you? You’ve been so strong, and so caring for such a long time now, and things are shifting under your feet. The rules have changed, and maybe you don’t know what they are anymore.”
Wilson pursed his lips.
“Dammit, he got mad at me-told me he didn’t want me in the room any more.”
He waited. He was sure she was going to ask him how that made him feel. She didn’t. Instead, she told him how he felt.
“Other than surprising you and hurting your feelings, why is that a bad thing?”
He stared at her, uncomprehending.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I meant what I said. Why is his getting mad at you a bad thing?”
He had no answer for this one, either.
“What was he like when you first starting taking care of him? Was that man someone who would have felt safe getting angry with you, with asserting himself, with exerting some level of control over his circumstances?”
Suddenly, Wilson’s breath caught. No… no, of course not. That House didn’t do much of anything except shiver; if he reacted to anything at all, it was in fear. This House, he finally realized, was a lot more like the old House than anything he’d seen in six years. This House was making his own decisions and was willing to live with the consequences of his actions.
And yet he was somehow different. He’d begun morphing into a totally new House… and maybe that’s what was really upsetting Wilson, who didn’t know what that new House would be like… or whether there would be a place for him in new House’s world.
After thinking about it seriously for a long while, he finally answered calmly.
“No. No, he wouldn’t have. I guess-I guess, to be honest, I’m actually more afraid for myself than I realized. Now that he’s getting better, I guess I thought it would be like it was. I don’t want to lose the friendship I once had. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back again.”
Jacey smiled sympathetically.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, James, but you won’t. That friendship is gone.”
Wilson stared at her. He could feel his heart beating.
“What do you mean?”
She nodded her head.
“I mean it’s gone. Kaput. Listen to me carefully. This is not a bad thing. You two are friends who have both done truly remarkable things for each other. That’s not going to change.
Wilson found he was listening to her acutely, focusing on her intense brown eyes.
“Because of what you’ve both been through, you’ll never again have the friendship you once had. There’s no way those experiences couldn’t change things. However, by virtue of what’s happened, you two have forged a strong bond that’s not going to get broken because of a few dents and dings right now. I understand that it’s scary, because neither one of you quite knows what the new ground rules are. But you’ll find them, and you’ll work things out over time.”
Wilson nodded mutely.
“So what do I do now?” His emotions were a tempest, and he felt as if he were going to cry.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but I can suggest what not to do. Don’t try to force Greg into some mold you’ve created in your mind. What he’s going through is extraordinarily healthy for him. Let him go through it. If you can bring yourself to do it, encourage these changes, even if you find them frightening. And come talk to me when you need to.
“Let him grow, James. Let him grow.”
Wilson stumbled out of her office, dazed, with considerably more to think about than when he went in.
Jacey Liu sat at her desk, made some notes on a piece of paper… and smiled.
* * * *
Karen Langley and Ian Yeung spent the better part of the morning in room 304, discussing the upcoming surgeries with their patients.
Langley would operate on Rainie in a couple of days, easing into the endless series of surgeries she faced with a fairly simple knee operation on her right leg. The physical therapists had been working to strengthen her upper body so she could use a walker and then crutches at least some of the time. Following the surgery, she’d spend the night at the hospital and then recuperate in House’s guest room. Linda McAllister had visited House on a regular basis, so Rainie had already met her, which made it easier, and a couple of Linda’s colleagues would take up the remaining hours of each day.
Yeung had decided at the last minute that House was ready for an initial surgery on one of his hands. House had chosen his right hand, hoping that if it were successful-or even partially successful-he could use his dominant hand more easily.
He hadn’t mentioned this to anyone, but when he wasn’t having nightmares, he’d been dreaming of playing the piano. It was the first time since the horror began that his nighttime hours were filled with anything but fear and dread. He’d hear the music, sense the vibrations as the sounds filled him, feel the melodies and harmonies under his fingers, and then see his hands, whole again, on the keys. But when he awoke, it was always with an overpowering sense of bereavement. If there was any way to regain some of what he’d lost, he had to try.
His surgery would be a couple of hours earlier than Rainie’s, and then he’d spend the night back in room 304 so the two of them could go home together the following morning, barring complications.
The physical therapy team, which had started working with House as well as Rainie, would come to the apartment twice a day for sessions now, spending an hour with Rainie, followed by an hour with House.
* * * *
Wilson sat in his office and stared out the window. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Jacey Liu had said. His mind circled the ideas the conversation had generated as if he was running on a Möbius strip-around and around and around. And most of what he was thinking was this:
He was an idiot.
When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? If he’d just stayed out of it, House would have handled things quite well without him-as was apparent by the way he was… handling things quite well without him. But no! He had to play Mr. Fix-It once again. The end result being that House was pissed. Completely, utterly and quite justifiably pissed.
House was right. It was none of his damned business. He’d eavesdropped on a very private conversation, and then, instead of having the discretion and good grace to keep it to himself, had barged in where he wasn’t wanted… or needed.
He knew perfectly well from listening to House and Rainie that they were approaching this difficult development in an adult, reasonable manner and handling it as well as it could be handled.
So why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Where did he get off trying to control the situation? And why did he care so damn much that he kept doing these idiotic things?
He heard how it sounded as it came out of his mouth. After all these years, he should learn. Wilson prided himself on his restraint in dealing with patients, his ability to allow them to make their own decisions. Why couldn’t he do the same with House? Why couldn’t he just let him alone? Why did he always think he knew better? If nothing else, experience should have proved to him that he never knew better when it came to House.
And of all topics to preach about. He, of all people, was in no position to judge anyone else’s relationship with a patient.
No doubt about it. He was an idiot.
* * * *
A cry and a whimper floated over from the other bed the night before their surgeries. House opened his eyes and saw Rainie thrashing around. He knew it was one of two things: pain or a nightmare. Possibly both. And he was too far away to reach out to her, to help.
“Hey,” he called out. “You okay?”
The only answer was a hitched sigh and a low moan.
Nightmare?
He tried again.
“Rainie? Can you hear me?”
At first, nothing. Then, after a moment, a very small “yes” came his way.
He pressed the call button on his bed rail. Within seconds, the door whooshed open and Kate Marcus entered, the same young nurse he had banished a few nights earlier.
“Dr. House? What is it?”
“Check on Ms. Adler,” he commanded.
She immediately went over to Rainie’s bed.
“Ms. Adler?”
In the low light, he saw Rainie moving about, still crying out quietly.
“Are you in pain?”
“Uh-huh. Ohhhh…!”
“Up her pain meds,” said House.
The nurse looked hesitant.
“Do it.”
She did.
Within a few minutes, Rainie settled down and went to sleep.
House, on the other hand, never got back to sleep.
In short, a typical night.
NEXT: Catching His Breath...