"Day damn one. Day damn one."
---
Later on that day.....
I was walking through the halls just thinking about what just happened: the most hurtful thing of the day.
I couldn't find the words. Hearing his voice, the way it was. It hurt too much. So I slammed it down on the receiver, trembling.
I can't believe I hadn't been there. Did I have a choice? Did I want to go? No, my loyalty had lied with Cameron and Chase..
No. Now I'm just feeding myself bullshit. My own made up excuse to avoid the truth....
But what was I more afraid of...Watching him walk away, into his own prison or letting him leave, for months, without knowing the truth?
Unless there was something else they weren't telling me....
It hurt too much to think right now.
Cuddy bolted into Wilson's office. She stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. He stared at her as she paced a few inches back in forth in the center, twirling around a rubber band.
"Are--you ready to talk yet?"
She kept pacing and nodded her head no.
"Okay. Just--fling that at me when you're ready to talk."
"He--called."
"And you said?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing as in nothing or nothing as in it is nothing?"
"I just picked up the phone and he said, 'miss me yet?' so I hung up the phone right away."
"And you're overreacting because...his sarcasm remains?"
"There was no sarcasm in his voice. He spoke it--almost in a--I don't know."
"Like in a serious way?"
"Just--"
"Why didn't you talk to him?" Wilson threw in a slightly sympathetic sigh.
"I couldn't. I didn't know what to say. Our last conversation wasn't--the happiest. And I felt too angry with myself to even speak to him."
"He understood. He knew it was already hard enough for me to be there, I'm sure he understood why you weren't."
"It's always been us though. We've held his hand through everything. And I wasn't there to--"
Her eyes looked out the window. They gleamed, a second time.
Wilson had gotten up from his desk. He grabbed on to Cuddy shoulders, shaking them, making her eyes meet his.
"Listen to me okay? This is hard enough on all of us. The team, not doing so well without him. I have no one to mess with and you are a wreck. And that's okay. Because House, he's getting his help. He'll be back Cuddy. He's not leaving you."
She finally met eyes with him. The tears finally fell. She took Wilson's hands off her and held one of them.
"He's already left."
And she walked out, without another word. He put his hanging hand from Cuddy's grip inside his pocket, and rubbed the hair on the back of his head.
He sat back down at his desk and pulled the phone closer to his reach. He dialed ten digits before grabbing the receiver and holding it up against his ear as he folded his arms on the desk. After a few rings someone picked up.
"Make I speak to Mr. Gregory House? Thank you."
He laid back in his chair and rubbed his face.
"Hey."
"I got my room to myself. No other crazy roommate."
His voice was tense and slightly scratchy. He inhaled a great deal of air and trembled as he let it out every now and again.
"If you're gonna call her again, wait a while."
"I got that from the abrupt slamming of her phone."
"She's just not ready yet. I know you miss her but. Just. Give her some time to sort out some things."
I know.
"Are--you o-kay?"
"I don't know," he breathed in again.
"I don't know. I don't."
"You want me to--drop by and visit?"
"No. With the state that I'm in, I'd snap on you. Don't bring Lisa either. To her--I might do worse."
"Did you just--?"
"And here it comes. Until the second phone call, goodbye Wilson."
"I-Hm. Bye House."
And they hung up the phone, both of them wondering, what could possibly happen next.
---
Later on that day.....
I was walking through the halls just thinking about what just happened: the most hurtful thing of the day.
I couldn't find the words. Hearing his voice, the way it was. It hurt too much. So I slammed it down on the receiver, trembling.
I can't believe I hadn't been there. Did I have a choice? Did I want to go? No, my loyalty had lied with Cameron and Chase..
No. Now I'm just feeding myself bullshit. My own made up excuse to avoid the truth....
But what was I more afraid of...Watching him walk away, into his own prison or letting him leave, for months, without knowing the truth?
Unless there was something else they weren't telling me....
It hurt too much to think right now.
Cuddy bolted into Wilson's office. She stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. He stared at her as she paced a few inches back in forth in the center, twirling around a rubber band.
"Are--you ready to talk yet?"
She kept pacing and nodded her head no.
"Okay. Just--fling that at me when you're ready to talk."
"He--called."
"And you said?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing as in nothing or nothing as in it is nothing?"
"I just picked up the phone and he said, 'miss me yet?' so I hung up the phone right away."
"And you're overreacting because...his sarcasm remains?"
"There was no sarcasm in his voice. He spoke it--almost in a--I don't know."
"Like in a serious way?"
"Just--"
"Why didn't you talk to him?" Wilson threw in a slightly sympathetic sigh.
"I couldn't. I didn't know what to say. Our last conversation wasn't--the happiest. And I felt too angry with myself to even speak to him."
"He understood. He knew it was already hard enough for me to be there, I'm sure he understood why you weren't."
"It's always been us though. We've held his hand through everything. And I wasn't there to--"
Her eyes looked out the window. They gleamed, a second time.
Wilson had gotten up from his desk. He grabbed on to Cuddy shoulders, shaking them, making her eyes meet his.
"Listen to me okay? This is hard enough on all of us. The team, not doing so well without him. I have no one to mess with and you are a wreck. And that's okay. Because House, he's getting his help. He'll be back Cuddy. He's not leaving you."
She finally met eyes with him. The tears finally fell. She took Wilson's hands off her and held one of them.
"He's already left."
And she walked out, without another word. He put his hanging hand from Cuddy's grip inside his pocket, and rubbed the hair on the back of his head.
He sat back down at his desk and pulled the phone closer to his reach. He dialed ten digits before grabbing the receiver and holding it up against his ear as he folded his arms on the desk. After a few rings someone picked up.
"Make I speak to Mr. Gregory House? Thank you."
He laid back in his chair and rubbed his face.
"Hey."
"I got my room to myself. No other crazy roommate."
His voice was tense and slightly scratchy. He inhaled a great deal of air and trembled as he let it out every now and again.
"If you're gonna call her again, wait a while."
"I got that from the abrupt slamming of her phone."
"She's just not ready yet. I know you miss her but. Just. Give her some time to sort out some things."
I know.
"Are--you o-kay?"
"I don't know," he breathed in again.
"I don't know. I don't."
"You want me to--drop by and visit?"
"No. With the state that I'm in, I'd snap on you. Don't bring Lisa either. To her--I might do worse."
"Did you just--?"
"And here it comes. Until the second phone call, goodbye Wilson."
"I-Hm. Bye House."
And they hung up the phone, both of them wondering, what could possibly happen next.
I was reading up on opiate withdrawal and apparently you can go through withdrawal not just to stop taking the drug, Vicodin in House’s case, but to reduce the amount you’re taking.
So in House’s case, like Wilson said; his Vicodin levels where way to high and so the only option was to let his body recover and reduce it’s need for that amount it got everyday.
Therefore, the next morning when he was seemingly better; it was because of the extreme cold-turkeyness that House used to reduce his levels of Vicodin in order for his hallucination of Amber to go away. So I don’t think it was a hallucination, because he hasn’t quit Vicodin, he has only reduced the amount he takes within the space of a horrible 24 hour detox. His body no longer craves the Vicodin every hour or so like before.
Short and simple :)
So in House’s case, like Wilson said; his Vicodin levels where way to high and so the only option was to let his body recover and reduce it’s need for that amount it got everyday.
Therefore, the next morning when he was seemingly better; it was because of the extreme cold-turkeyness that House used to reduce his levels of Vicodin in order for his hallucination of Amber to go away. So I don’t think it was a hallucination, because he hasn’t quit Vicodin, he has only reduced the amount he takes within the space of a horrible 24 hour detox. His body no longer craves the Vicodin every hour or so like before.
Short and simple :)