#Cuddy x reader

[cmkren]

im working on a request rn but !! If anyone’s interested my inbox is open to more !! :33

I WANNA HEAR PEOPLE’S THOUGHTS HCS WHATEVERRR I NEED HOUSE CONTENT <3

PLEASE SEND STUFF IN !

[velaryqns]

Could you do a House fanfic where after failing at treating a patient, House takes his stress and anger out on the reader? She then considers quitting being a doctor. House is confronted by Dr. Cuddy and his team, causing him to go comfort and apologize to the girl.

Uncontrolled Anger

Gregory House x Female Reader (I took it romantically for fun)

Universe: House MD

Summary: Maybe you should have known better than to question House about his feelings.

Warnings: Patient death, mentions of addictions, angst

You sat silently, your eyes on the dead body in front of you. You had watched as the team fought to help the man, all for it to fail after multiple misdiagnoses and wrong solutions. You, being a doctor, knew what they were going through. You’d gone through it a few times with your patients.

Sighing, you rest a hand on Taub’s shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile. He returned it, then watched you go as you made your way out of the room and eventually wandered to House’s office. When you reached the glass door with his name on it, you stood silently for a moment with your arms crossed. He had one hand in a fist by the side of his head and the other filling out paperwork.

You brought your hand down to the handle, allowing yourself into his office. You took a few paces, then turned your attention to the big yellow chair by his bookshelf. You lowered yourself into the chair, watching him silently for a moment.

“How are you?” You asked gently, not wanting to annoy him while he was in the middle of scribbling on the sheet.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” he muttered, still keeping his gaze away from you.

“You could at least say that you’re okay,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as you shook it. You knew he handled emotions horribly, in ways that often required you to intervene, “Greg—“

He slammed the pen down and looked at you. And you could see why he had been avoiding your gaze to begin with, “You’re not a therapist. In fact, you’re presently the reason I could end up needing one. I just want some peace and quiet because excuse me for not being Doctor Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What —“ You cut yourself off, truly hurt by his words. His blue eyes held no remorse for what he said, and you quickly stood and left the room. You bumped into Chase, but ignored him entirely as you made your way down the hall with the intention of going to the elevator.

As you stood silently in the elevator, waiting to go down to the main floor to leave for the evening, you processed why you continued to try and support the man that. You stared at the metal doors, jaw clenched as you finalized your decision.

You didn’t want to work in the same building as someone like Greg House. Cuddy wouldn’t fire him, he’s too good.

Once you reached the main floor, you went to the clinic, seeing if there was any help you could offer and breathing a sigh of relief when you were able to step in. You dove into working throughout the clinic, waiting patiently to be able to talk to Cuddy about what was going on.

You filed patients in and out of the room you were using, only stopping for nurses to clean and sterilize everything between each patient. However, your consistent flow was ruined by Foreman's sudden intrusion into the room. You stared at him.

"Do you need something? Because I would like to treat my patients," you informed him.

"Just checking on you," he shrugged, tucking his hands in his pants pocket and leaning against the door, further preventing you from leaving the room, let alone treating your patients.

"I am fine," you muttered, tossing a file on the counter and crossing your arms. You leaned against the counter, "I am tired of him behaving like a child; I never thought I'd consider leaving my position because Cuddy refuses to fire House."

"I can talk to her for you,"

"Not worth it," you shook your head, "Now can you please go?"

Foreman was reluctant for a moment, but then nodded his head and walked out of the room. Your next patient came in, and you returned to your job.

Little did you know, Foreman was taking matters into his own hands despite your protests. The team liked you, there was no denying it, so of course he turned to Cuddy because of what you'd said. It was hard to believe, especially when you typically had a strong relationship with House, even when he was being childish.

House was in his office when Cuddy went search for him, her hands on her hips. He stared blankly upon her arrival, a frown on his face as he waited for what she had to say.

"You're going to make her quit,"

"Her?" House asked, shaking his head and shrugging as he waited for an elaboration. He looked toward the office door to see the team staring at him with disapproving looks, which caused him to sigh and roll his eyes, "Y/n's choices are not my fault."

“You’re pathetic,” Cuddy muttered. House shrugged. To him, there was no point in denying it. Cuddy clenched her jaw, “I thought you liked her!”

“She’s ear grating, like you,” Lisa frowned and House shrugged once more.

“I can’t lose another good doctor because of your antics, House,”

She spun on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving House to his own thoughts.

It was early in the evening, you’d showered and done some dishes, when there was a knock on your door. You were less than enthusiastic to open it, especially after peering through the hole to see House on the other side. He leaned on his cane lazily, a bag of what was clearly takeout food in his other hand as he looked down at you.

“What do you want?”

“I come bearing food,” he held the back up to emphasize his point.

You rolled your eyes and moved to slam the door in his face, but it made contact with his cane instead. House let himself in, limping toward your couch and plopping on it. The smell of the Chinese takeout hit your nose, making your mouth water as you pushed the door shut the rest of the way and turned to face the man on your couch.

“What do you want?” You repeated, less than enthused and lacking the emotion you usually had when speaking to House.

“Not a lot of hospitals would be willing to take you,” he spoke matter of factly. He dug into the brown paper bag, pulling out bulls of food and beginning to eat out of his own, “Foreman struggled to get a new job when he had to leave—“

“Foreman was accused of malpractice, and caught,” you reminded House.

“Malpractice is a common occurrence in this hospital, you think any other Dean would hire someone who’s worked with me? You’re poorly mistaken, Dollface,”

“You’re a piece of shit,” you spat, shaking your head and storming into the kitchen, “You know that?”

“I just call em like I see em,”

“If you don’t have anything genuine to say, then leave,”

There was silence, and then you heard your couch creak as he got up. Good, he got the point. That was what you thought until you heard his cane moving across the linoleum floor of your kitchen. You turned to see Greg House standing over you, and you gulped.

“What do you expect me to do here?” He questioned.

“Oh I don’t know, apologize?” You countered, side stepping him to grab a glass from a cupboard, “I was helping you. Making sure you were okay and not going to do something stupid after losing a patient — but apparently that wasn’t good enough, hm?”

“Y/n—“

“No, all I wanted to do was help you,” you faced him, “everybody in that damned hospital does what they can to help you, and this is how you repay us? That’s real shitty, House.”

House. Unlike everyone else, you rarely used his last name when talking to him. When speaking of him, sure, when in professional settings, almost always. But never in the privacy of you two or amongst friends. That’s when he realized the reality of what he’d caused.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he spoke, taking a step toward you. He leaned his cane on the counter and placed his hands on your waist. You didn’t move your arms from your sides, merely looking into his blue eyes to see if he was being genuine.

It seemed too good to be true.

“Accept the apology before I’m forced to take it back,”

And there it was.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” you muttered, moving your hands to rest on his biceps. House squeezed your waist, knowing that he got what he wanted. You rose to your tip-toes, your lips just barely touching his before you pulled away, “Now come on: that take-out is calling my name.”

[zvdvdlvr]

Could you please write an imagine based on the episode where Greg House gives a lecture about the three cases and he's one of them (where we first see Stacy).

Reader is one of the students there, gives the correct answers, therefore grabs his attention and he offers a job and they end up dating

Thanks in advance!

chasing you ✩ gregory house

“What color is your pee?”

You watched House interrogate one of the few students that had been giving input on his three stories.

“Yellow,” she replied with a sharp tone.

“And what color is your blood?”

“Red.”

House nodded. “Yes. And what colors did I use to make this tea color?”

The female student stammers as she replies with “red, yellow, and brown.”

The man clicks his tongue. “And brown. How do we get the brown color?”

“Waste-“

“Thank means the kidneys are shutting down,” House cut in. “Why?”

“Could be damage done by the self injection. He has no history of trauma.

“Treatment?”

House’s rapidfire questions had rattled the woman, but she stiller answered. “Heat and rest-“

“Other possible causes?”

“Infection.”

House nodded. “Start him on antibiotics. What else?”

Silence filled the room. House looked around, expecting an answer. “Come on! What is it?”

“I-I don’t know,” the student admits. She looks away.

House sighs and walks down the steps. The paper with the tea color crumpled in his hand.

“You know, it’s hard to think with you in our faces,” starts the annoying student right up front.

“Yeah?” House scoffs. “You think it’s gonna be any easier with a real patient really dying?”

The guy looked down. Once again, silence reigned over the room as House prepared himself to speak. Until… you opened your mouth.

“The unknown factor would be muscle death.”

House looks up. Near the back of the auditorium by the window on the far left. A student House originally thought was uninterested. Sure, House had seen you around the hospital- practically every wide-eyed intern or student had met the witty man but he had never spoken to you.

Which was odd considering he took a little joy in making the interns and students squirm- especially the pretty ones. House was surprised he’d never even caught your name.

When House’s mouth opened and closed twice, you resumed carefully. “The dying muscle leaks myoglobin which is toxic to the kidneys. There’s your brown, Doctor.”

“Brilliant,” House murmured. He eyed you carefully as he went on. “MRI the leg. See what’s killing it.”

The Heath Ledger dupe spoke up again. “Why is the girl getting the MRI?”

“Because the neck skan revealed nothing and her doctor’s way more obsessive than she thinks she is.”

Heath tilted his head. “But you said the guy needed the MRI.”

“Because the mysteriously smart girl over there said muscle death. Not one of you came up with that. Not one of this guy’s doctors came up with it either,” he replied harshly. “They gave him bed rest and antibiotics- just like you guys would’ve.”

“Does he get better?” The female student from before asked.

House clicks his tongue. “No.”

“How long-“

“Three days.” He looks around the room, stalling when he made eye contact with you. “It is in the nature of medicine that you’re going to screw up. You are going to kill someone. If you can’t handle that reality, pick a new profession. Or finish medical school and teach.”

The female student from before spoke up. “It took three days for them to figure out about the muscle death?”

House shook his head. After heaving a sigh he answers “No, it took three days for the patient to suggest muscle death.”

“What caused the muscle pain?” You asked. “Was it- was it a clot?”

House nodded. “Don’t steal my thunder, young padawan. But… yes. A clotted aneurysm lead to an infarction in the patient’s leg.”

You nodded as House examined you intently as he went on. “After the surgery to remove the clot, the patient went in to wide complex tachycardia… The patient was technically dead for over a minute.”

“Do you think he was dead? Do you think those experiences were real?”

Every head in the room turned to the back. There stood James Wilson, leaning on the door. He looked knowingly at House, like he knew something everyone didn’t.

“Define real,” House shot back. “They were re experiences… What they meant- personally, I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see, visions this patient saw… They’re all just chemical reactions that happen when the brain shuts down.”

“You ‘choose’ to believe that?” You ask curiously.

House’s eyes dart back over to you. “There’s no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life,” he replies. As he starts to pace slowly around the front of the room, he proceeds. “I choose the outcome I find more comforting.”

“You find it comforting to believe that this is it?” Wilson asks accusingly.

House blinks. “I find it more comforting to believe that this isn’t simply a test.”

Everyone sat, listening closely to House’s every word. No other sounds could be heard despite House’s cane movement. He explained how, once the patient was put into a medically induced coma, his trusted proxy had made the decision to remove the dead muscle from his leg.

“Because of the extent of the muscle removed, the utility of the patient’s leg was severely compromised,” he told everyone slowly. “Because of the time delay in making the diagnosis, the patient continues to suffer chronic pain.” He tilted his head up to look at the crowd in front of him and then dropped his head to look at his hands.

“She had no right to do that,” piped up a different female student.

Heath Ledger look-alike scoffed. “She had the proxy.”

The woman argued back, “She knew he didn’t want the surgery!”

“Well, she saved his life,” Heath Ledger responded.

“We don’t know that,” the guy in the front row cut in. “Maybe he would’ve been fine.”

“Still, it’s the patient’s call!”

Heath Ledger shrugged. “Patient’s an idiot.”

“They usually are,” House agreed. “Do you have a buzzer? What time does this class end?”

This time, a mew voice answered House’s question. “20 minutes ago.”

For a moment, House looked at Cuddy with an unreadable expression. Then he clicked his tongue and stood up. “I’m not doing this again,” he informed Cuddy. “And this guy is not the world’s greatest dad- not even ranked. Who the hell let’s their kids play with lead based paint? That’s why he’s always sick. Find him some plastic cups and the class is all his again,” he told Cuddy, placing the yellow hand-painted mug in her hands. He started to walk out, but paused and hobbled back to point his cane directly at you. “Except you. Come with me.”

With haste, you gathered you books and writing utensils and shoved them into your bag. As you followed the limping man out of the classroom, you felt everyone’s eyes on you.

“I have a job for you if you want it,” House tell you finally, stopping in front of a door. “It’s tough, people lie to you every day, and we don’t even have decent coffee.”

You look from him to the door that reads ‘Gregory House M.D. - Head of Diagnostic Medicine’. “I have literally spoken to you three times. How do you know I won’t accept the job, wait until you trust me, and then steal all your money and leave?”

House paused. “Good question. Will you accept the job, wait until I trust you, and then steal all my money and leave?”

“Probably not,” you reply.

“Great!” House exclaims. “You’re hired.”

Over the course of the next few month, you had clicked immediately with Chase. You spoke passionately about different types of literature with Cameron, and joked with Foreman about anything and everything.

Your relationship with House was complicated to say the least. During your first official case, House insisted he followed you everywhere. You more than understood his hesitance to let you do tests completely on your own. But when he limped around, tracking you like a damn dog… you wondered why he still hadn’t trusted you enough.

To your fortune, Wilson had cornered you in the cafeteria as you were getting lunch. “We need to talk,” he had said before plopping down next to you.

You paused, looking up from your cafeteria spaghetti. “About what?”

“House.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

Wilson looked at you with an expectant expression. “Because I want to know what you said. Duh.”

“I think I’m missing something,” you told him. “What was I supposed to say to him? What was he supposed to say to me?”

Wilson dropped his silverware. “Are you serious? He didn’t- You don’t- What?”

“I’m lost here, Wilson,” you tell him.

Wilson looks around suspiciously before licking his lips. “So… you know how the medical gala is coming up?”

Nodding, you shove a forkful of noodles in your mouth. “Chase won’t shut up about seeing ‘all the hot babes in tight dresses’ or something,” you inform Wilson.

After guffawing over your imitation of Chase’s accent, he gets serious. “It’s in a week. Are you sure he hasn’t talked to you?”

You throw your hands up and sigh. “Just spit it out already, Wilson. I feel like a high schooler trying to get my friends tell me who they have a cute little crush on. Tell me or I’m gonna pop a blood vessel!”

Wilson looks away. “I can’t. I’m scared of House.”

With that, he picks up his tray and goes to leave.

“Bye bye, Willie!” You call.

James turns and glares at you before walking out of the room. You chuckle and attempt to finish your meal before your beeper will inevitably go off.

You just start chowing down on the garlic bread (read: bread with butter and garlic) when you hear the dreaded beeping. You bite off a large chunk of the bread and dump your tray before reading the ‘MY OFFICE- EMERGENCY’ that was from House.

When you finally pushed open the door, you saw House facing the window outside.

“Is our patient with the living?” You ask, taking a step towards House.

House doesn’t turn around. “I need you to go to the winter gala thing with me.”

You stiffen up. Throughout your whole body, your muscles tighten as your freeze midstep. Your face drains of blood and your heart feels like it just dropped into your stomach and was dissolved by the acid. Bile had just started rising up your esophagus when House turns.

“Don’t look so excited,” he insists sarcastically. “But seriously. Why are you looking at me like I have a tumor growing out of my eyeball?”

“No,” you mutter raspily. “Take Cameron.”

House’s eyebrows furrow as you turn on your heel and start to leave.

“Why won’t you go with me?”

You gnaw deeply at your lip as you turn. To your surprise, House was standing- watching you leave without his cane in his hand. “Go with Cameron,” you say again. “I don’t- I’m- No. Just no.”

“Y/n, why-“

You practically run out the door before Greg can even say your name. He stands by his desk, staring intently at the ground where you just stood. “Hm,” he hums. He sighs and thinks about what to say to you next.

The next three days consist of House trying and failing to speak to you. To his own surprise, you have completely stopped talking about personal matters with him and have withdrawn any of your own opinions except for facts having to do with the patient.

House had just finished off another bottle of pills when Foreman barged into the room. “What did you say?”

House blinks. “Uhh… to who? Where? When?”

“To y/n, House. What did you say to y/n?”

“I told her that I needed her to go to the winter gala with me,” House answered truthfully. “Why? Has she said anything to you?”

Foreman flops down in the chair facing House. “Do you like her?”

“Well, I hired her, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it, House,” Foreman snaps. “Answer me. Do you like her?”

A moment of silence fills the air. House thinks back to the first time he interacted with you- how confidently you completely the puzzle that certified doctor’s couldn’t figure out. How you had matched House’s wit on your very first day. How you- despite being babysat- had completed every test and blood swab and every challenge House had put in your way. How your face often spoke before you did, how House unconsciously searched for you in a crowd, how House looked for your input after almost anything is said, how House wants your company.

“No,” he answers. “Yes. Maybe. Why?”

Foreman looks at House like he’s stupid. “Because she likes you! How have you not figured that out?!”

“Uh, maybe because of the fact that she seemed to want to projectile vomit all over me and then sprinted out of the room? Sorry, I was too focused on the horror in her eyes to consider the fact that y/n really wants that enemies to lovers trope in real life,” House rambled.

“She thinks you’re gonna make a fool out of her, House, and I think you are too,” Foreman answers. He stares at House, searching for information he won’t get. “But… you’re less abrasive when she’s around.”

“You’re acting like she’s your precious little baby sister about to be wed to an evil ogre in the woods,” Greg mutters.

Nodding, Foreman quirked his eyebrows. “I feel like I am.”

House looks at Foreman for a long moment. “Why did you come here to tell me this?”

Eric heaves out a sigh heavy enough to know down an elephant. “Because she wants you to mean it. Y/n wants you to want her. To show her that you want her.”

“I see.”

Foreman nodded. “Don’t tell her I conversed with the enemy.”

Greg scoffed. “As if she’d voluntarily talk to me.”

Eric’s face turned sympathetic. “Just talk to her. Show her this isn’t some whim to- I don’t know, win a bet against Cuddy. Show her you feel the same.”

It was the day of the gala when House found you testing a patient’s blood. You whispered lyrics to a song Greg didn’t know as he stealthily approached you.

“Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat in a weird choking noise as you leapt back. “Christ, House!”

“Sorry,” House said with a very unapologetic tone. “I want to talk to you.”

“About what?” You ask plainly, looking through the low power lens of the microscope.

House leans on the table as you adjust the stage. “About… the dance. Tonight.”

You adjust the fine adjustment knob slowly, clicking your tongue unconciously. “What do you have to tell me?”

Greg looks around the lab awkwardly. He silently tried to encourage himself, mentally recalling the nights before, thinking about what to say to you. “I want to formally ask you to go to the gala with me.”

You stand at full height, facing him directly. House held his breath. He was so close to you, he thought he felt your breath on his face. “I don’t want to go. With you, Cameron, Chase, or Foreman. I don’t want to go.”

“Why?” House asked immediately.

You shake your head. “I’m-These things never go well for me House. Besides, you could just go with Cameron. I know she’s dying to go with you.”

House watches you watch him. “I don’t want to go to Cameron. I want to go with you,” he admits lowly.

“And why do you want to go with me?”

House pauses to see your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips- so fast that he almost didn’t notice. “Because I don’t like her the way I like you.’’

You swallow. “How do you like me, House?”

“Like this,” he tells you before dropping his cane and grabbing your waist. Hearing no complaints from you, Greg pulls you close to him and brings his face close to yours. At this point, House swears his vision is blurred by how fast his heart his pumping. House’s hold on your waist is possessive, protective. He hesitates, hoping you won’t reject him now.

You- thankfully- understand the words House is trying to tell you through his eyes. You carefully let your hand cup the nape of House’s neck and pull his lips down to yours. A breathless moan escapes your lips as Greg pulls you flush against him.

House’s head- for once- is silent. And his leg doesn’t seem to hurt quite so bad with your hands on his body: feeling him like he’s only dreamt about before.

And then- when you do pull back- House keeps his grip on your waist as he looks you in the eyes. “I want to go to the gala with you. If you don’t have a dress, then we can just go home.”

Your flushed lips pull into a dazed smile. “How much cleavage do you want to see?”

House groans and lets his head fall back as his eyes close. “As long as I can take it off tonight and any other day I don’t care.”

“Is that- Are you- Are you hinting at commitment? Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?”

House guffaws sarcastically. “Careful, there. I could get you fired.”

You just laugh. “Yeah, and have the others bicker like siblings and let patients almost die thrice before diagnosing them? I don’t think so.”

“You know, you have a pretty big ego for someone who hasn’t worked here for a full year, yet,” House chides.

Scoffing, you attempt to return to the blood you were looking at before House interrupted you. “First of all, you would know about egos. Second of all, I’m good. Cuddy has spoken to me… about other positions,” you tell him vaguely.

House is taken so off guard, his arms go limp. “What?”

“Nothing I accepted,” you answer, turning back to the microscope.

House just hums. “Good.”

You murmur a quiet ‘good’ in reply. “I know how to cure this guy,” you breathe quietly. With a growing smile, you take the slide off the stage and turn off the microscope before discarding the bio-waste.

House struggled to keep up with how fast you were walking, but your kiss had definitely left him chasing you- literally and figuratively.

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

House: *Screams*

Y/N: *Screams louder to assert dominance*

Wilson: Should we do something?!

Cuddy, observing: No, I want to see who wins this.

[crossingthedreams]

do better — gregory house x f!reader

a/n: I got a little carried away, per usual, and now I’m late with day 04 of the angstober challenge (still a wyp), but I plan on finishing it and posting later today. but, omg, I can’t believe I'm posting day 05 — do better on time! this is also part of @angstober‘s challenge, which I'm having a blast writing. I do love some angsty vibes. please, feel free to comment or dm me!

summary: a relationship between the boss and his employee has a million ways to go wrong. one, in particular, hurt them the most. 

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst. House is an asshole. mentions of family death. mentions of cancer. struggles with immigration. inappropriate relationship. mentions of smut.

Let medicine be thy food. 

That's the quote, or at least you think it is. After a particularly long shift, words in English seemed to scramble together a bit, with it being your second language and all. Usually, you’re a natural, perfect, fluent speaker. There are moments, however, when understanding what your peers are saying or formulating cohesive sentences becomes a herculean task. You didn’t make yourself unintelligible, but it was a little awkward to be with a patient who clearly had no idea how globalized the world was and how many doctors in the United States were not native English speakers, and who looked at you like you had just robbed the white coat from a “proper doctor”.

Sure, dealing with people was shitty sometimes. “Doctors don’t treat people, they treat illnesses”, your boss had once said. But in your mind, people weren’t that bad. The long hours, the sleep deprivation, the lack of a social life — that was the really bad part. And there were, of course, the very short lunch breaks. 

Medicine was fun, but it had nothing on a full plate of pasta with those weird looking meatballs. What once was disgusting, now seemed appetizing as hell. Not eating once while working for the whole night could do that to a person. Medicine was not food, at least not literally.

You had taken off your sweater and your white coat a while before going to the cafeteria, where the rest of the team was. As of right now, you and Chase had spent thirty-six hours working. Cameron and Foreman had taken the long straws and gone home last night while you and the prettiest doctor around worked on some lab tests. 

That man who, right now, was not really trying to hide how he lustfully eyed you up and down, stopping on your cleavage. You didn’t blame him for looking, though. Firstly, you did spend the night working together and you mentioned that you did not have sex for the last six months, and secondly, you had nice boobs, which was both a blessing and a curse. Also, he was very much exhausted. Thinking about your coworkers in an unfashionable manner to keep awake was better than falling asleep atop of a patient during a lumbar puncture — you had done both, so you could tell, oops. 

“I’ll die if I have to do any more thinking”, the pretty doctor said, accent even more prominent, letting his head drop to the headrest of his seat behind him. 

“Yes, thinking just doesn’t come naturally to some people”, you laughingly replied, sitting down next to Foreman. He scooched over, making more room for you and your tray. There was enough pasta on your plate to feed two, not to mention the salad, the dessert, the can of Coke and the can of energy drink. 

“Damn, kid, do you not have food at home?” You eyed Foreman, a little annoyed at the comment. Why did men think they had the right to comment on women’s food choices and bodies all the damn time? “Don’t give me that look, you know that’s a lot, especially for a girl who skips lunch every other day”. 

“Not by choice” you said, taking a lot of pasta into your mouth. “Nof ba chos”, you replied, mouth full, making everyone at the table let out a tired laugh. 

It was an uneventful meal. The team was really tired, especially Chase, who almost dropped his head on his plate twice. The four of you rushed upstairs when lunch was over, after being paged by your boss. 

The man himself was pacing back and forth in the conference room, brows furrowed and looking extremely aggravated. Nothing new, then, you think, sitting down across from Cameron. 

Allison Cameron and you had been friends since med school, and getting to work together was pretty nice. Women in STEM need each other, of that you were sure. The thing is, she was in a weird place romantically, which made you feel weird about getting along with the people about whom she was confused — which hardly makes sense, but it is what it is. She had a crush on your boss for the longest time, and that didn’t work out at all. And then there was Chase, who she had slept with, but had no interest in further pursuing. 

Hanging out with Chase knowing he’d seen her naked was a little weird, but the fact they’d slept together wasn’t the problem. He liked her, and that was her problem. Your boss, well, he was everybody’s problem. 

Particularly yours, considering… you know. The one-night-that-became-every-night. The HR-nightmare. The doing-the-devil’s-tango. The seeing-each-other-scars. The kissing-and-absolutely-not-telling.

It was fairly easy sneaking around. He was inappropriate, sure, but not big on PDA. He treated you like any other dumbass employee with boobs. If anyone saw the two of you leaving the hospital together? You worked together. If you were seen going towards the same place? You’re neighbors, duh. And if anyone happened to see the two of you having breakfast together in the little café a block around his place? Well, it was a coincidence meeting him there! 

If they saw you giving him head while he tried to play the piano, well… There’s no explanation for that. 

You looked at him coming and going, and you knew his leg must be killing him. Yesterday when you left his home in the morning to pick up your stuff for the day (which turned out to be the day, the night and the next day), he was popping more pills than usual. Shit. 

“New case?”, Cameron asked, looking at the limping man with worry and care in her eyes. You liked her a lot, but she had to stop thinking about your limping man with such care. 

Sure, she liked him first. And she probably worried for him just as she would anyone else. And it was ridiculous to be annoyed at your long-time friend for caring for her boss. Still, there was a sting of jealousy that made you want to bitch-slap her. 

He finally stopped and looked at all of you. When his eyes finally met you, he looked right at your low cut top and let out a “Yowza!”. When you blushed and stood up to pick your white coat, he called your last name, and said, nonchalantly: “Nice boobs”. 

You raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you sat down. It might seem like sexual harassment — and at first, it was a little bit —, but now it was just him being as inappropriate as always. Hiding from his feelings, keeping his distance with pathetic remarks and cold attitudes. It made you sad when you started working for him, but right now, you pinched your nose to stop you from giggling like a sixteen year old cheerleader being noticed by the boy on the football team. Or rather, the boy on the bench cursing at the stupid players.

Dr. Gregory House had a massive crush on you, and that made all the shit he did go away. 

You realized Chase started updating House on the patient you spent all night testing and monitoring. Truth is, that guy didn’t stand a chance for a normal life here on forward. At best, he had a benign hereditary chorea. Worst case scenario, it was Huntington manifesting earlier than it should, as you’d been saying from the beginning. 

“Shut up”, House said to Chase, making those blue Australian eyes widen. Poor guy, he looked beyond exhausted. “I understand how DNA testing works. I went to med school too, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was seven hundred years ago”, you let out before you could think twice. You teased House a little for being older. Scratch that, you gave him a lot of crap for being older. You just didn’t do it in front of the team, which was why they all looked at you horrified. 

Horrified, but Foreman was holding in a laugh.

The ‘old-man’ hit his cane on the desk, turning the attention back to him. “Ouch”.

You smiled, playing it off like a remark made by an exhausted overworked young woman who disliked her boss. House half-screamed some orders to all of you, even though he already knew you had clinic duty. 

The hours left to finish on the clinic were manageable, so you could finish it after you did some of the tests House asked.  

Time passed by too quickly, and as your day went by, you remembered you had to talk to Wilson as soon as possible. It wasn’t a life or death matter, but a peace of mind kind of thing. You decided to stop by his office before you It was then that you overheard something you shouldn’t have.

Well, that brought the high school memories right back. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, also known as the beginning of your third shift in a row, and you were stopping by Wilson’s office to discuss a private matter. A family member of yours had cancer, and then another one. By the time your fourth relative came down with the diagnosis, you decided to check your genetic predisposition. Although the tests came back clean, meaning you were safe for oncology purposes, you still wanted to know his opinion on how you could be even safer.

You looked cancer in the eyes many times. You didn’t want to look at it in the mirror too. 

For some godly reason, you stopped before knocking. That’s when you recognized your boss’s voice, complaining about something, per usual. 

“She’s a baby! She had never watched Grease, for crying out loud”, the voice and the footsteps made their sounds in harmony. You leaned in closer to the door, to try and listen better. 

“Well, you two barely know each other, now it’s the time to know if there’s a future in this relationship or not. And would you ever marry her?”, Wilson’s voice, and the words made you freeze. 

“Not everyone has marriage on the brain 24/7, Wilson”, House replied. Even from behind the door, you could almost hear the engines in his brain turning. “And God, no. I could never marry her. I can do better than a gullible third-world princess”.

You froze.

Of course he’d say that. Of course. Even if he didn’t mean it. 

The realization came like an electrical shock flowing through your body. You felt it, and it made the hairs on the nape of your neck rise. 

You meant nothing to him. 

As an immigrant, the feeling of never belonging is constant. You don’t belong in the place you now live, but you don’t really belong in the place you were born. 

You had felt for a fraction of a second that you could find your place here. In House's department. Perhaps, even with House. God, you were stupid. You were a device for him to finish his puzzles, and an object to finish… Well, to finish himself off. 

As you left your transe and heard the voices again, you ran as fast as you could back to the clinic, where you had a couple hours left to finish. There was something you needed to arrange with Cuddy, too. 

Hours later, you were in the department’s room reading some exams when House walked in. 

He eyed you up and down again, eyes lingering on your breasts a little longer than a boss’ eyes normally would. “So”, he took his bootle from his jacket and opened it, popping a couple of pills, “your place or mine?” 

“You suck”, you murmured, angrily, but pouting a little. He’d never admit it, but he loved seeing you a little aggravated, crossing your arms in front of your body in a way that made your already eye-catching torso irresistible. 

He smiled a little, putting the medicine back in his pocket. “No, sweetheart”, he now fully grinned, “that’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but let your arms fall and a cold smile creeped into your face. 

“Yes, I do, actually”, you rose up from the chair and walked all the way towards him, hitting your hand towards his chest and pressing the paper you were holding against him. “I’m a full on sucker, and ass-kisser, as you like to point out. That’s why your so called mortal enemy offered me a job in New York”. 

He took the paper, blue eyes never leaving yours. 

“Consider this my two weeks notice”. It was hard to say, but it felt a little good, too. Logically, there were no downsides in this opportunity. Then, why did it hurt so much? “I guess everyone was right. I can do better”.

The double meaning was not lost on House. 

Your hand finally left his chest, and he didn’t look back as you left. 

Looking at it now, it all seems so simple. It never is, though, is it? Especially with House. And you, an intelligent, kind, talented and ambitious young woman, could definitely do better than attach yourself to a crippled, bitter, odious older man. 

You were doing better now. So, why, pray tell, why did this still hurt so much? 

[deadxregulus]

That is the only thing i think about on a daily basis

[cloudrunnerscinnamon]

An "early-ish" House MD one shot. House and reader :)

The reader experiences a particular bad night and finds herself stuck in the ER with the one and only Greg House. This could really go either way...

gif is not mine (found it on google)

"Getting mugged wasn’t the worst part about my night"

„I’ll do it“ House took the IV-bag from the nurse before she could argue with him. You on the other hand really didn’t want him near you. However, you knew House well so you decided against putting up a fight and let him take care of you. He made clear that he wanted to watch over you, discussion over. Doctor’s orders. 

Wilson, Cuddy and all of  House’s attendees (old and new) were standing a few meters away from the two of you. The initial shock of you getting mugged and being delivered into the ER with a grade 3 concussion and a laceration to the forehead had worn off but they all felt like staying close. Now, in fact, they were shamelessly watching the scene in front of them unfold. They all knew this would probably be the pivoting point of House’s and your relationship. For a month the two of you had been buzzing around each other. Chase had bets running as per usual. Wilson was sure you would crack first and confess to House how you felt about him. Cuddy on the other hand had put in for „House, taking one more risk for the sake of finally finding happiness“, what can you do, she was sappy like that. There were a few more variants going around in the bookie but those were the two most popular. 

It wasn’t like House or you were denying that you liked each other. It was obvious, the amount of time you spent together and the pile of insiders you shared annoyed everyone around you. But whenever somebody tried to inquire, all they ever got was a 

„Oh, House and me?“

„(Y/N) and me?“ 

„We just hang out, we watch the same crappy shows and like to piss of the pizza place with weirdly specific orders.“ 

„Seriously, we are just friends!“ Even Wilson couldn’t coax a confession out of his stubborn friend. 

Funny thing, neither of you wanted to screw things up by showing your cards. 

„This will sting a bit,“ House was sitting on a chair in front of you taking your hand in his and carefully inserting an intravenous catheter. His hands were steady and his movements well practiced. You still hissed a little when the needle pierced through your skin and you could feel House’s blue eyes immediately on your face. He wanted to say something but reconsidered busying himself again with attaching the tube of the IV- bag to the IV-line. 

„Sure didn’t sting as much as the rest of the night,“ you snatched your hand away as soon as House seemed satisfied with his work. 

„And no, I am not talking about getting mugged.“ The harsh tone of your voice surprised you. Yes you were hurting because of him and yes you were out of your mind from the pain in your chest, your heart, but still. Wounding House didn’t give you any pleasure or redemption. It still sucked. All of it. Stacy sucked, their kiss sucked and what you heard him say, well, that just was the cherry on top. 

House didn’t get up from his chair but remained right in front of you. The chaotic atmosphere of the ER didn’t seem to phase him at all. Slowly he went to take your hand again but you brushed him off. 

„Fuck off House. I don’t want you near me.“ For a second you could see the pain in his eyes flash, then it was gone again. Replaced by his usual wall of safety guards. Safety guards he had let slowly and steadily dissolve with you. He wasn’t going to give up that easily now.

„Yeah, sorry I’m not going anywhere.“ House sounded firm even though you were sure he was confused and so out of his comfort zone. Him prolonging eye contact and taking a „stance“ was all just an act to hide his feelings and ever growing insecurity. For once the doctor was actually scared to lose someone. Displaying confidence and nonchalance was all he knew how to do right now. 

„What? I am not being funny here.“ You leaned further back, unconsciously creating more distance between you and House. Why didn’t he just leave already. Did he take some weird pleasure in knowing that you had overheard his and Stacy’s conversation? That earlier this week you had seen them kiss in his office? You were so angry and hurt that getting mugged almost felt like a nice distraction. 

„Just go!“ You made a flinging motion with your hand and your voice broke from all the emotions. House scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes at you like he simply didn’t understand what was going on. He was confused by your actions. He was here, he was taking care of you and still you wanted him to leave. 

„Why do you want me to go away?“ His voice was small, he seemed sincere which made you want to jump out of your skin. Sad, hurt, humiliated all of which you were feeling right now but deep down there was also frustration and anger. All those month of casually hanging out and spending time together. Was that all a lie? It had felt so genuine. Could you have been so wrong about another person? You sure weren’t stupid. You had never thought of yourself as the one that would change House. You knew many had and tried to be friends as well as love interests and they had all failed more or less miserably. You simply enjoyed being around him as he was. You liked being his friend. Oh how very stupid you felt now. Friends? Your thoughts were interrupted by House’s voice. It sounded modulated like he was really trying to stay in control of his demeanor.

„(Y/N)?“  

Irritatingly for you the shock of getting mugged, the thudding pain in your skull and Stacy’s performance had taken a big chunk out of your self-control. There just wasn’t anything left to hold back the emotions from spilling over. Tears blurred your vision and your mouth twisted into a thin line. At least you were able to hold back that sob building in your throat. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer, something had got to give. 

„Because it hurts to look at you.“ And there it was. Painfully aware of all the people around you and House blankly staring at you. Was he in shock? Your voice had been so much more penetrating than you had anticipated. Shit, where did all that pain come from all of the sudden? Why weren’t you able to look away from those blue eyes? Was he even breathing? Were you breathing? Why was it so quiet? Was anyone breathing? 

„I love you and you crushed my heart!“ Those eight words had slipped out of your mouth before you even noticed they had formed on your tongue. Your own thoughts betraying you and that at the worst time. Why was your face so wet? Then the blue eyes were gone. House remained unnervingly silent. He had however gotten up from the chair. The doctor’s back was turned towards you. His right hand held onto an unused IV-stand. Was he steadying himself? Might be his leg but the pain had gotten a little less excruciating of late. You knew that because he had confided in you. Hot tears were still running down your reddened face while you stared at House’s unmoving figure.

Behind the two of you, at the reception counter of the ER, Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He huffed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Cuddy throw a cautious look at him. They both felt bad. Usually Chase’s bets didn’t turn into such a flurry of dramatic events. Wilson could sense the rising uneasiness of his colleagues around him. He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, turning his head towards Chase. 

„Now that it happened I don’t know why you let me place that bet.“ Chase’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. He silently stared at (Y/N) and House. 

„This is totally upsetting and those are our friends.“ Wilson knew the Aussie doctor wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy and he especially wouldn’t lend any emotional comfort. 

„So you forfeit?“ Chase raised an eyebrow at Wilson. 

„I,“ Wilson hesitated, his moral compass was spinning like a merry-go-round. 

„No, I don’t. I just think we are terrible friends.“ 

Chase snorted and rolled his eyes. 

„Just because we took on bets doesn’t mean we aren’t their friends. Or well (Y/N)’s friends, I don’t know about House. Does House actually have friends?“ 

Wilson looked dumbfounded and left Chase hanging for a good comeback. The other doctor took that as enough of an answer. Just then Chase‘s pager went off. He glanced at it quickly and with another nod towards Wilson, he pushed himself off the reception counter, he had been leaning against and left.

The machines, next to the bed you were sitting on, started to beep loudly. Immediately House turned around and checked for the reason of the onslaught of alarms. A nurse standing nearby also rushed over. You followed House’s line of vision and quickly realized that your condition hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The pulse oximeter that had been clamped onto your left index finger had slipped off. You hadn’t even noticed. 

„It’s okay I got it.“ House waved at the nurse stoping her in her track. She just nodded and went back to scribbling on the chart of another patient. House’s hands took a hold of our left one, he slipped the pulse oximeter back on. The noise stopped and the numbers on the screen went back to somewhat normal at least as far as your non existing medical understanding told you. He kept holding your hand and you let him. Your outburst and confession had drained you even more and you were left longing for contact. 

„There, looks good, normal heart rate. So it can’t be crushed.“ House smiled openly at you although it seemed a little too assertive. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

„You are kidding me right?“ Once again you wanted to pull your hand away from his but he held on. It took you a few seconds to untangle your fingers from his, he watched you struggle a bit bevor slowly letting go. You sniffled and tears started to come anew. The way he kept looking at you made you nervous and confused. House’s weird behavior was something you clearly couldn’t deal with. The moodiness, rude arrogance and sheer lack of interest in other people’s necessities you could handle – but this? This was worrisome. 

„House, please just – just leave.“ It sounded like a plea, your tremulous voice not helping. However House didn’t respond. He looked back up to the monitors again, busying himself, biding his time. You knew he wasn’t gonna leave. A frustrated huff through your nose. Shaking your head in disbelieve you let its weight sink down into your hand, rubbing over your forehead. 

„Why do you call me House?“ Your head snapped back up. The blue eyes were on yours again. 

"You never call me House.“ He said his own name like something foreign, something he had to get his tongue acquainted with.

„It’s always been Greg,“ his eyes fell and you had to bend forward a little to still hear him. „Right from the beginning. You only ever use House when you talk to other people.“ To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

„Seriously? This is what you are going with?“ The harshness of your tone was matched my House’s soft response. You had never seen him so abashed.

„Just tell me,“ a quiver at the right corner of his lips, „Please?“ This, you weren’t able to deny. House was either being sincere in all his coyness or he was playing you to get what he wanted but whichever it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging him.

„I call you House because everybody does and I am not special.“ Fast and prompt, no time to think about your choice of words. This day wasn’t gonna get any worse, was it? Might as well lean into it then. House was right though. You had always preferred calling him Greg. You understood that at work people referred to him as House. It was both formal and still not too friendly for coworkers. In the beginning you hadn’t actually really noticed that hardly anybody besides you called him Greg but when you realized it you couldn’t help but ask yourself why. The nature of your relationship (or friendship to be correct) was purely pleasure. You didn’t share anything work related and so the version of House you hung out with struck you more as a Greg kind of House other than a House House. 

„To call you House is safe,“ you said and in your head you added: and it is less intimate. With a heavy sigh House took a few steps and let himself sink down next to you on the hospital bed. Both your feet were dangling down and you followed the swinging motion with your eyes. For some reason a comfortable silence fell over you. The ER was, now as before, busy but the different sounds and monotonous buzzing worked like a coat slipping around the two of you. There was enough room to stay still in all the hectic. For the next couple of minutes House and you quietly agreed on taking a breather. 

The dull thud of Houses cane on the floor made you jerk up a little. He was going to say something. Repeatedly hitting the and of his cane on the floor was a tell-tale-sign of the Doctor building up to saying something. You had noticed that relatively early, but you weren’t sure if he realized you knew. House would mold the words in his mind until they satisfied him enough to actually say them. You also knew that he only ever did that if he was nervous or stressed out about what he wanted to say. 

„(Y/N), I am not with Stacy. Even though you might think that after what you heard tonight.“ Ah of course, yes, this would definitely make House uncomfortable. You just stayed silent, letting him continue.

„And trust me I know it sounds cliché but it is not what you think it is.“ He half laughed at that, it sounded studded with frustration and a hint of desperation. 

„What is it then? Because it really did sound like the two of you were making up.“ As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You really didn’t want to know. It was enough for you to know that it hurt. 

„You know what? Don’t answer me,“ you lifted your hand, pressing the palm of it against your eyes in an attempt to dampen the headache. It didn’t work and you let your hand sink down again, resting it on your upper thigh. 

„Do you love her?“ Since you had arrived in the ER you had tried to avoid looking at House but the question you had just put to him demanded you to make eye contact. House didn’t immediately answer. His long fingers scratched absentmindedly at his stubbled chin.

„No I don’t and I haven’t for quite some time.“ There was so much conviction in House’s voice that you didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. 

„What I said, what you heard,“ the doctor kept looking around while continuing to explain himself. Scanning over the room but hardly registering what was going on. 

„I wasn’t talking about Stacy and me. But without the proper context I can see how you might think that.“  He snuck a peek at you trying to gauge how this conversation was going. Only the white knuckles of his hand holding his cane in an iron grip gave aways how tense he was. Throwing your hands in the air you could only shake your head. This whole situation was ridiculous. 

„You kissed, I saw you, in your office.“ you said bluntly. You were ready to start a fight. Leaving everything pent up wasn’t gonna work. If House thought he could fool you with this talkative demeanor you were sure as hell gonna make him work for it.  

„I know and I felt awful“ Small voice, barely more than a murmur and two absurdly blue irises. Aaaaand there you crumbled again. You involuntarily mimicked House’s wispy smile.

„Didn’t look like that,“ you muttered. He grabbed your hand carefully avoiding the IV catheter. His fingers drew small patterns on the back of your hand. 

„Well do you believe me if I say you got that the wrong way around as well?“ 

Yes, your thoughts screamed and you wanted to threw yourself into House’s arms. Instead you pressed out a, „No.“ 

But he let you have that one, making sure you could keep your dignity. 

„Fair enough“. House intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them a little. He sucked in a breath of air.

„But,“ drawing out the vowel, House made his point anyways,“I’m sorry, you do have it the wrong way around.“ Was that his teasing tone? Was he actually mocking you? To be fair you could feel the tension draining from your body. If anyone would ever try to convince you that House wasn’t able to understand emotions and steer them empathetically you would just laugh in their face. Which is also what you did now. You laughed because frankly you were overwhelmed.

„Whatever. This is humiliating.“ You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh.

„She kissed me.“ House added, looking all dopy and school boyish. You gaped at him. House was carefully maneuvering this sinking wreck off a ship into saver waters and you knew it but it was still annoying you. Why was it working? 

„Oh well that changes everythi–„ You jumped right on board and countered sarcastically but House cut in.

„Yeah no, I know it doesn’t.“ He agreed with you however he wanted you to fully understand the circumstances. 

„The only reason I let her was because I am shit at feelings.“ House shrugged his shoulders.

„What? Sorry you lost me. You are shit at feelings so you kiss your married Ex-wife?“ Was he kidding you? Your hand slipped away from his and you tugged your arms tightly around your middle. You didn’t want to fell like that but anger and frustration where front runners again. House got the message. When he talked next the lightness in his voice was gone.

„If you are shit at feelings you might not be able to trust them. Sometimes I need actions to fully understand them. Actions I get and I am good at them.“

Your mouth opened but potential words were stopped by an index finger pressed against your lips.

„Ah ah ah wait!“ The Doctor removed his finger and continued.

„So when she kissed me I was able to say goodbye,“ he paused for a second, “ because there was nothing. No love, no anger or other sentiment. It was only a kiss which I did not particular care for. It cleared my head.“ 

„Hmm.“ Not as articulate as you would have liked to be but you couldn’t manage more, so you just kept listening. 

„I wanted to come after you. I…“, House hesitated then he turned a little more towards you. He wanted to see your eyes but you kept your gaze low. 

„Your face. The way you just turned around and left.“ His voice was husky.

„I told Stacy then, what I just told you… and to be fair she was pissed. I should have know that she wouldn’t leave it at that.“ A bitter chuckle slipped from House’s mouth and he shook his head. The doctor was lost in his thoughts for a second. Your voice pulled him back into the ER.

„So when you asked me to come by to talk, you in fact wanted to talk?“ Maybe all was not lost. Maybe just, maybe this day had still something good to offer.

„Oh yes, yes I did and other stuff“ A cheeky grin appeared on House’s face and he softly bumped his shoulder agains yours. When you looked at him he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

„Shut up,“ you snorted. This man is unbelievable. 

„Not funny yet?“ He lightly poked your thigh, testing the waters. 

„Nooooo,“ you said, returning the shoulder bump. 

You looked at each other, wary smiles meeting. House drew in a heavy breath then. He still had a few things he wanted to say, get out of his system. 

„Stacy rang the doorbell 10 minutes before you. She must have left the door ajar. And the rest, you witnessed first hand.“ He scratched the back of his neck and proceeded.

„Annoyingly not all of it. Seeing that we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.“

You nodded slowly, processing. Neither of you knew what to say now so you just kept sitting next to each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward it just seemed necessary to pause for a bit. 

After a few minutes you suddenly had this weird feeling of being watched. You became more aware of your surroundings and let your eyes drift. Behind you, at the reception counter you saw House’s attendees as well as Cuddy and Wilson jump apart like they had been caught red handed. All of them were making it a point to be terribly busy looking. 

„I can’t believe they are all still watching us.“ You nodded towards the group of doctors. House followed your line of sight and you could feel him growing a little bit uneasy. There was no smile on his face and his features seemed more in control. You didn’t want to see him so gloomy after there had just been some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. You wrapped your hand around House’s elbow and tucked a bit. His head turned back to you. You were surprised to find sadness and, what was that? Remorse? Etched into his face.

 „They are making sure I don’t crush your heart twice in one night.“ With the bitterness in House’s words came also a promise. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make this work and find out what this between the two of you could be. He acknowledged how his actions from earlier had hurt you. Everything about this conversation was so out of character for House that you had a hard time believing you weren’t imagining things. Maybe your concussion was worse than you thought and you were having crazy hallucinations. Could you have hallucinations from concussions?

„Yes, but that is highly unlikely in your case, since the CCT-scan did not pick up any intracerebral bleeding.“ 

„What?“ Surprised you looked at House. 

„Did I just say that out loud?“ The doctor smiled at you amused and your stomach fluttered. You always had liked it when he bestowed you with one of those uncensored grins. 

„Yup.“ House confirmed. Chalking it up to the most ludicrous day you have had in a while you decided to ignore reason and precaution and just trust your gut. You let your head sink against House’s shoulder and immediately the side of your body melted agains him as well. Before a sigh of relieve could escape from you House had already wrapped his arm around your waist. This was nice. It felt good and easy. 

After a while you could feel the weight from House’s head on yours. You watched your feet dangling again. The calm breathing and the warmth between the two of you had you feeling drowsy in no time. A stifled yawn from you and House nuzzled his face into your neck.

„Yeah, me too,“ he whispered.

„How much longer ’til this thing is through,“ you asked quietly while pulling at the tube of the IV-bag. House lifted his head and frowned at the IV-bag. He considered his answer for a couple more seconds and before hopping off the bed.  

„Maybe 10 more minutes. We can speed it up a little.“ The doctor reached for the drip and adjusted the roller clamp. Immediately the solution in the IV-bag started dripping faster and he turned back towards you, sitting back down. 

„I don’t want to stay in the hospital,“ You sighed. Next to you House was blowing raspberries, obviously thinking something over. 

„You should with a third degree concussion. But I can take you home and make sure you’re okay.“ House offered looking at you expectantly. You considered your options and figured that the perspective of having House fussing over you wasn’t too bad. Your stomach rumbled loudly. An idea came to you then.

„Do you still have that pizza I brought, at your place?“ House had to chuckle at that and his laugh lines appeared. He nodded.

„Yes I do, at least I didn’t eat it. I went straight after you this time.“ House looked at you carefully, in all the joking there was also truth. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found in your eyes because he continued lightheartedly.

„If nobody broke in and ate it, it should still be sitting on the kitchen counter. “ 

„Great!“ You exclaimed happily.

„I could eat, really had a long night. How about you?“ You really wanted to get out of the hospital and leave the last few hours behind you.

„Nooo, completely normal night. So relaxing.“ House earned a slap from you on his shoulder. 

„Ouch! Don’t hit the cripple.“ His fake whiny voice made you actually laugh out loud and you were so relieved to feel somewhat normal again. 

„How about instead of taking me to my place, we go to yours and warm up that pizza then? I can be on concussion-watch anywhere right?“ With that you slowly slid off the bed, carefully steadying yourself. House watched you, assessing if you really were able to leave the hospital.

„I was kinda planning on that anyways.“ He stood up as well and undid the tube from your IV-catheter. The IV-bag was empty. With his hand he indicated for you to sit down once more. While he removed the IV-catheter from your hand you were happy to run along with the banter. 

„Sure you were. What if I’d refused.“ You cocked an eyebrow at House, challenging him. Even before he spoke you knew there would be some kind of quick-witted comeback.

„Oh I would have just kidnapped you.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually, a big fat grin on his face while he peeled off the adhesive tape that had kept the IV in place. 

„Of course.“ You laughed. The needle in your arm was gone and House pushed down some gauze on the exit wound. After a few seconds he put a plaster over it to keep it in place.You used his focus to study his features. There was still that smile on House’s face, though it had faded a little. You wondered what was on his mind. The heaviness that started to appear on his forehead couldn’t be from doing some routine doctor stuff. Just when you wanted to go for it an ask House what was going on, he mumbled your name.

„(Y/N)?“ Was his voice shacking? Your heart sank. Please don’t mess this up. Your imagination started to run wild and you feared for the worst.

„Hm?“ you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable let down.

„Can you not… can you maybe?“ House leaned closer to you. He seemed oblivious to your emotional turmoil. The whispering made his voice sound rough. With another sharp intake of air he took the plunge. 

„You are special, you know. To me you really are special.“The words tumbled out of his mouth practically rolling over each other. You scooped them up, holding them, they felt soft and warm to the touch. 

„So could you maybe not do the House-thing like everyone else?“

You smiled at him. This was big. House just committed to talking about his feelings leaving himself unguarded in the process. 

„Okay, Greg.“ 

[the-houserat]

St. James Infirmary (pt. 1)

Summary: Y/N is in an accident

Notes: This fic is based loosely on a song cover by Hugh Laurie with the same title

Word count: 2.9k

You wake up so early in the morning that not even the sun is there to greet you. As a doctor this is your duty; While everyone else is asleep, you're awake giving others a chance at a new tomorrow.

You are a longtime employee at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, however for the past 6 months you've been recruited by Dr. Gregory House to join his Department of Diagnostics Medicine.

These mornings before the hospital have become so routine that you unconsciously start your day and are only brought back by the closing of your car door. You instantly flip through the radio stations after turning on the ignition before settling on blues to accompany your morning commute. You follow your regular route, stopping and turning at all the usual places. Right after you stop at a red light ,10 minutes away from your destination, you hear a song you enjoy come on. You lean down to turn the volume knob to the right and then lean back slightly in your chair as the melody relaxes you and drowns out the worries clouding your busy mind.

Your attention is directed back up to the changing colors of the red light to green. You press your foot onto the accelerator and ease into a comfortable speed. Before you're able to fully leave the intersection, however, a semi truck rams into the back of your car.

You feel nothing.

Time slows, but hours pass like minutes.

—

Dr. Lisa Cuddy sits at her desk filing paperwork. Her telephone rings. She swiftly answers, rubbing her temples at the sudden intrusion to her work. Her face falls when she hears the doctor on the other end of the line's words.

She tentatively grabs her pager to request Dr. House's presence in her office. Quite a while later, he hobbles in while speaking with his head positioned downward and his usual frown, “What is it now, Cuddy? You've already interrupted my nap twice.”

“Greg…” She says softly before being cut off by him.

He rests his weight on his cane as he places his opposite hand on his waist, falsely showing interest. “Come on now I've got patients to attend to,” he says pointing towards a nonexistent watch on his wrist.

She raises an eyebrow at him before stating, “Thought you were napping.”

He moves closer to her desk while explaining, “I said you interrupted me doing so twice. It's quite presumptuous of you to assume this was a third time.”

As much as Cuddy would love to shoot a witty remark back, more pressing matters are at hand. She shifts slightly in her seat and places her hands together, bracing herself to deliver the news as calmly as possible, “Y/N has been in a wreck and has been sent to St. James Infirmary. Police found their employee I.D. and called to let us know.”

House unexpectedly laughs before rubbing his chin and shaking his head.

“I'm not joking, House.” She says.

He pauses, shocked, before silently pulling himself together, “What's the damage?”

Cuddy looks at him with concern in her eyes, “They didn't say.”

He furrows his brows in annoyance at her vague statement, “What do you mean ‘they didn't say’? You called me to your office to tell me my employee is in the hospital and you aren't able to tell me what's wrong with them?”

“I can't tell you something I don't know, House. If you care so much, why don't you go visit them?” She retorts.

A flicker of annoyance with a hint of worry quickly flashes across his face. “And do what? There's no patient over there, just an idiot who probably thought it was okay to cross a red light and get themselves run over,” he says, attempting to feign indifference.

Cuddy leans back in her chair as she crosses her arms, “If you really think they're capable of such a mistake, why are they on your team?”

“Not many people are as smart as them, but everybody is an idiot.” All Cuddy does is nod her head with narrowing eyes, but House takes it as a threat. “They're my employee, an asset to the team, and they're not more important than any of the other people on it. Which reminds me, which one of them gets to deal with their patients?”

Cuddy lightly presses her lips into a smirk as she says, “That would be you.”

“Of course it is,” he sighs. He doesn't protest his departure any longer, though. He just needed a way to make it seem like he didn't want to see you, like it wasn't his first instinct, like he cares… because he doesn't.

House doesn't give a fuck about anyone else but himself.

At least, that's what you originally thought…

He turns around to exit Cuddy's office before she asks, “Leaving for the day?” He simply nods and continues to leave.

—

Memories of the accident flood your unconscious mind and seep into your dreams. Shards of glass surround you in scenes you won't remember when you wake. Your eyes jolt open as you feel a sudden stab in your arm.

As the world around you comes into focus, the image of your boss standing above you twirling a pen comes into view. “Rise and shine.” He says louder than you wish he had.

You groggily sit up, rubbing your head and putting the puzzle in front of you together. “I'm not in a coma, House, no need to poke me awake.”

House stills his twirling of the pen to point it at you, “Can never be too sure, Y/N.”

“Thanks for the advice, I'll be sure to keep it in mind for my future coma.” You look around trying to place where you are as House vigorously shakes the pen.

He goes to write something down, but no ink leaves the pen. “You're at St. James Infirmary- stupid pen.” He shakes the pen again and attempts to write once more before throwing it away. “You don't remember, do you?”

“Remember what?” You ask, “The hospital or the pen?”

“You can answer for both if it makes you happy.” He answers sarcastically as he goes to sit down in the chair to the left of your bed.

You rub your head as you're about to answer, just to realize the butterfly needle stuck into the vein of your hand is connected to an IV drip. As you attempt to run that hand through your hair, it catches on the wings of the needle. “Ow-” you yelp at the pain, “It's not like the first thing I do after a wreck is ask where I am. I assumed you of all people would know pain meds come first.”

He raises an eyebrow, amused by both your jab at him, as well as your struggle with your hair. “Now that you have your pain meds, would you care to recount the events that led to this? Unless, of course, you forgot that too.”

As House's icy blue eyes stare at you, you begin to feel small and self conscious. You have tiny scrapes on your face, likely due to shattered glass, and your hair is just a mess. The more you try to detangle it, the worse it gets, and the dark circles under your eyes from your late night shifts at the hospital further accentuate your disastrous state.

Why do you care what he thinks of you right now? Why is your mind swarming with anxiety about what you look like in front of him? You are in a hospital, and you still care about physical appearances?

He stands up which draws your attention back to his tall frame and away from your racing thoughts. You watch as he limps over to the side of your bed and sits down. You wonder what he's doing as you stare at the back of his head as he looks away from you. That is, until you feel another poke to your skin.

“What the hell House?!” You question

“You were quiet,” he answers “It was only appropriate to make sure you were still alive.”

“Are you sure I'm alive? Because this is pretty close to what I imagine hell is like.”

“Weird. I imagined more hookers,” he quips. He reaches the back of his hand to your forehead, the contact unexpectedly making your cheeks flush. “You're warm enough for life as far as I can tell.” His hand lingers there for a moment longer than what's usual for taking someone's temperature and he looks at you with an unreadable expression. He removes his hand, but not his gaze. He scans your body as you continue to struggle with your hair.

A man wearing hospital scrubs walks in after lightly knocking. He seems to be in his mid 20's with a muscular physique. Blonde, mid length hair frames his face. He enters holding a clipboard. After looking at it for a moment, he looks at you, “Y/N L/N?”

“That’s me,” you say smiling politely.

House raises himself off your bed after the intrusion and stands to face the both of you. The blonde man checks the monitor with your vitals.

“Do you perhaps have a working pen?” House abruptly asks. The man nods and hands him one from his pocket. He notices the tangled mess you've created in your hair and offers his help. You happily accept, glad to have someone assist you. He untangles your hair, his touch a gentle balance between delicate and focused. “I need to get a little closer, is that okay?” He asks. You nod your head.

While he meticulously works, House carries an even more sour expression than usual. He stomps his cane on the ground to bring attention back to him before clearing his throat, “Well, doc, I'm waiting to hear what's wrong with your patient.” He continues, “Unless you'd prefer it if I left so you can have sex with them instead.”

The man pulls away from you at his snarky comment, “Excuse me?”

“Just asking a question.” House responds before sitting back down in his chair.

You look at House before turning back to the man, “Could you give us a moment?”

The man gets up, but before leaving he turns around and says, “I'm the nurse by the way.”

He leaves and you immediately turn to the older man next to you angrily, “What the hell?”

“I know right, “ he says with both hands resting on his cane, “A male nurse? Feminism's come a long way.”

You pinch your nose bridge. “House, why are you here?”

“To brighten your day,” He replies snarkily.

Silence awkwardly fills the room after that last remark.Your gaze drifts away from him, guided by both your anger for him and shame for yourself.

Your anger prompted by House's behavior, and the shame brought on by your reaction to it. You know how he is. You have been working with this man for six months and his deportment has yet to change; This is how he always is. However, something in you had slight hope that it would somehow shift- that these circumstances would solidify every word unspoken in your stolen glances.

While lost in your own thoughts, you don't even notice him come to sit next to you. He lightly shakes your shoulder, “Stop dozing off before you make me accidentally call a code blue.”

You look back at him with your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, “Are you my doctor now, house?”

“No. I'm not here as your doctor,” your gaze softens at his reply. He's concerned about you, that must mean- “I'm here as someone annoyed at you for getting run over by a truck.”

Oh.

Your wishful thinking was quickly shoved away by the continuation of his sentence. You know you should've expected as much from him, but the way he so quickly threw away any notion of genuine care for you left a sour expression on your face. Here you sit having practically tasted death and yet he still refuses to crack away this miserable wall between you.

He notices the look on your face and actively disregards it. “You should stand up,” he says.

“House, I'm tired,” you reply in a harsh tone as you turn your head away from him.

“I didn’t ask you if you were tired, I asked you to stand up. I'd like to check if you have a back injury. It's important to see if it's just a regular ol’ aspirin fixer upper or a spinal cord injury that could lead you paralyzed,” He lightly guides your face back to look at him.“I don't think these idiots could tell the difference between a headache and a gunshot wound.”

You swat away his hands, annoyed at his tiny hint of warmth after his previously cold comment . “You didn't ask me anything, you demanded. I'm serious, House, I'm fucking tired.”

He raises his hands in defeat. “Well, let's not get into semantics. And you can't go to sleep until I've made sure you didn't mess up your spine in the crash.” He stands up with one hand resting on his cane and the other urging you to follow him in rising off the hospital bed, “Now stop being difficult and just stand up, because I've got better things to do than worry about you.”

“Then leave.” The words leave your mouth as soon as he says that last sentence. You didn't even have time to register your own words before understanding his. He's only here to make sure you can still work after all of this is said and done; He only cares about how well his diagnostics team is working on patients, not about the members themselves. Everything people said about him that you had refused to accept is true: He's a narcissistic asshole who can't bother to care about anyone else but himself.

“Don't be an idiot,” he says with a laugh of disbelief.

You glare at him, “I'm serious. You have better things to do, so leave. I didn't ask you to come here and I sure as hell didn't ask you to worry about me.”

“If I didn't care, I wouldn't have come here.” he sighs and for a moment it feels like you see that wall come down, “You're a part of my team.”

Your voice is quiet, but stable, “I almost died…and you can't even find the decency to be nice to me. You still feel the need to add a belittling quip at the end of every somewhat kind comment.” You turn your head away from him and face forward in your bed as you lay back onto the cheap hospital pillow, “You have better things to do, House, so go do them.”

He stares at you for a moment, taken aback by your words. His gaze softens before swiftly transitioning into a stormy rebuttal. He snaps, irritation coating his voice, “What the hell did you want from me? A warm hug and comforting words? This is me you're talking to! The nicest I've been to you since you started working for me was 3 months ago when I let you have the rest of the coffee- And that was because I'd had 2 espressos from the cafeteria!”

Your composed stature remained, as each of his words brought back the feeling of glass in your skin. They pierced through you like a needle through cloth. “I don't know what I was expecting, House.”

He continues to berate you almost as if attempting to prove his own point, “You can pray that someday I'll wake up and be a nicer person, but that's not what you're getting today. All you're getting is the usual cold, miserable bastard who's only here to ensure that you're only dealing with minor back pain and not a spinal cord injury that could leave you paralyzed.” He scoffs, clinging to his distant demeanor as he pulls the pen he received from the nurse earlier and a piece of paper from his pocket. He writes down what seems to be a sentence, but at his reveal it turns out to be a singular word: pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.

All you could give him was a near scowl.

“Do you recognize this disease? This is actually a fictitious disease made to mock medical names, however it's now deemed as the longest word in the English dictionary.” He says while holding the card to face him, “Funny how people just make things up. Much like you are now,”

You relax your shoulders and breathe, shaking off your emotions, “I don't want to do this right now, House. I'm mourning the fact that for a second I truly believed death was knocking on my door; I appreciate you feigning interest in my well-being, but I assure you that I am fine and I don't need your care right now for a case that you have no interest in. Go save some poor patient who's dying of some rare condition that no one can figure out and leave the simple car crash to idiots.”

House's eyes narrow slightly, his jaw clenching as he thinks of how to respond. For a brief moment, it looks like he's about to reach out to you, but his cold facade returns almost as quickly as it left. He steps back away from you and takes a deep breath, followed by his exit.

[mayemperess]

Giving House MD characters a rock/shell/shiny thing

Cameron- confused; Doesn’t get it but very polite

4/10

Foreman- probs thinks you’re a crazy person, why would you give him a random rock? He won’t say it but he’s beyond confused

1/10

Thirteen- probably gets it, happy; might give one in return.

13/10 (couldn’t resist :P)

Chase- undecided if he gets it, either way he’s very happy. Thinks it’s the sweetest bc he’s a sweetheart. Probs keeps it in his locker or smth. Getting a gift from you makes him feel very loved,

20/10

Kutner- Dorky boy, gets it and is SO happy, probs gives you a similar item in return

100000/10

Taub- doesn’t get it at all. He’s polite about it though

3/10

Wilson- he probably doesn’t get it, let’s be real. But he’s happy to have it and keeps it like on his desk or in his home. He probably gets all flustered and blush when you give it to him, smiles whenever he looks at it

9/10

Cuddy- you know when parents get really shitty art from their kids, but act like it’s the best thing in the world? That.

6/10

House- obvious route would be just to say he scoffs and acts like it’s stupid, then on the inside/ in private, be very happy about it

However

I’m convinced this man had like a geology or dinosaur phase or smth as a kid, bc who doesn’t? (Or maybe it’s a neurodivergent thing? Idk doesn’t matter) So I think he would genuinely really like it

He’d be like Jack Sparrow and the jar of dirt

House: “…is the rock going to help?”

Y/n: “If you don’t want it, give it back.”

House: “No!”

He probs keeps it in his apartment, and is genuinely flattered that you gave him something. He’s affection starved as hell, as we can figure, so I think he just gets a little happy every time he sees it.

15/10

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x single mom!Reader

SUMMARY — James moves into a new apartment and finds a new friend in his neighbour across the hall

WARNINGS — mild descriptions of blood and injury, hospitals/hospitalization, a little angst and hurt comfort

NOTE — Guys this was supposed to be out Monday, I am so sorry, life is just not life-ing (ie. its midterm season) so enjoy this being posted as I am fighting for my life in cell bio. Also this has only been minorly edited by me so if there's any weird wording ot typos I apologize in advance

If no one had told you someone was moving into the apartment across the hall from you, you probably would have gone months without noticing anyone in there. You weren’t sure if your schedules were just not in sync or maybe he never really left his place. Regardless, it took at least two months before you met your new neighbour. 

When you did, it was a coincidence. You were leaving and he was coming back home. 

You both paused and stared at each other for a moment before rushing to introduce yourselves, only to accidentally talk over each other. 

After you both stopped, he motioned for you to go first. You gave him your name and made a stupid comment about how you hadn’t met until now. Maybe it wasn’t stupid because he laughed, or maybe he was just being nice. 

“I’m James,” he said. “And about not seeing me, well it probably doesn’t help that I leave at the crack of dawn and usually come back late.” 

“Oh, let me guess, doctor?” you asked and he nodded. “It was either that or day-shift stripper so I figured my odds were pretty good.” 

That made him laugh again and you smiled. 

“I hope you rest well before your next shift. Unfortunately, I have to head out. Duty calls.” 

“I’ll see you around,” he gave you a small three-fingered wave which you returned before jogging down the stairs. 

You didn’t think you’d have much reason to see him again, but accidents do happen. 

You knew sometimes you’d have the tendency to be a bit clumsy, but this was beyond that. Dropping your knife down next to the half cut vegetables, you looked around for something to wrap your hand in to stop the bleeding. 

You thought about your options, you could call an ambulance and pay the ridiculous fee, you could drive yourself to the ER and risk getting into an accident, or you could knock on your neighbour’s door and hope he was home. 

You sprung for option three, seeing as it was most immediate. 

Opening your door, barely even bothering to close it behind you, you knocked on James’ door, praying that he was home and would be able to help. 

It seemed as though your prayers were answered because you heard the lock click and the door open to a very confused looking James. 

“I am so sorry to bother you,” you started, “but I was making dinner and the knife slipped-,” 

“You cut yourself,” he filled in the blanks himself and you nodded, biting down on your tongue from the pain. “Come in, let me see if I can get you sorted.” 

He opened his door wider and you stepped into his apartment, an identical layout to yours, but differing in decor and furniture. 

He pulled back a chair at his small dining table for you to sit at and went to another room to grab something. 

He came back with a first aid kit and sat down in the chair next to you, opening the kit and grabbing a few things he knew he would need before pulling back the towel you had wrapped your hand in and examining the cut. 

“Wow, this is really deep,” he remarked. “You must be in a lot of pain.” 

“Yeah, trying really hard not to pay attention to it right now,” you nodded through gritted teeth. 

“Look, I don’t have a lot of stuff with me, but I think this lidocaine numbing spray should help a bit, but it will sting first,” he warned you and you nodded. 

He used the spray and you winced, but just as he said the pain slowly dissipated and soon all you could feel was a dull ache. He started by cleaning the wound and flushing it with some water and alcohol. 

“So what were you cooking?” he asked. 

“Trying to make just some chicken and potatoes, but of course my hand and the knife decide to slip at the same time,” you sighed. 

He pulled out a needle and some surgical thread next, determining what the best way to stitch you up was. 

“Do this often?” you asked. 

“Unfortunately for you, no I don’t,” he shook his head. “I work in oncology so I have to think a little harder about my stitching.” 

“As long as it’s free, take all the time you need,” you joked. 

“Oh, no one told you, my rate is 500$ a minute, I take cash or cheque,” he teased right back and you chuckled a bit. 

“How about I do you a favour when you need it and we call it even?” you asked and he nodded his head. 

“Seems equivalent. Alright, you’re gonna feel a light pinch,” he said and saw your face contort in discomfort and he quickly apologized. 

He tried to do the stitching as quickly as possible, and then covered it up with gauze and tape to make sure the stitches were protected. 

“You should probably come by again tomorrow so I can take a look and make sure everything’s okay and it isn’t infected,” he said. “I should be back around six.” 

“Sure, thanks again for this. It’s handy having a doctor next door,” you smiled. “Now I should probably go and clean all the blood off my counters and order something to eat.” 

“Hey, why don’t you just have a plate of food here before you go back?” James suggested. “I made extra.” 

“You sure? You already stitched me up and now you want me to eat your food?” 

“It’ll be nice company,” he assured you. “Unless you have someone you need to get back to.” 

“No, it’s just me right now,” you nodded. “I’ll stay, the blood can wait.” 

James served you a plate of the food he had made before grabbing his half-eaten dinner and joining you again at the dining room table. 

“So, um, you know what I do for work first hand now,” James started. “What about yourself?” 

“I like to say I’m a constant student of the world’s universal language,” you smiled to yourself, “but people don’t really know what I mean by that so usually stick to saying I’m a professor of mathematics.” 

“Wow,” James looked impressed. “You don’t really look like a math professor. All of mine were a little…crazy. I never would have guessed.” 

“Unfortunately not everyone can have Einstein’s hair,” you joked and James laughed. 

“Do you teach at Princeton then?” he asked and you nodded. “What a coincidence. I work at the teaching hospital.” 

“Oh, you must know Lisa then,” you grinned. “She’s a good friend of mine.” 

James nodded, “Such a small world.” 

“You’re telling me.” 

You continued to eat dinner and chat about various things, most pertaining to the school or your mutual connection through Lisa. By the end of the evening, when you wished him a good night and went back over to your apartment, a part of you was happy your hand would give you an excuse to see your neighbour once more. 

—

James stared blankly at his fridge wondering how he’d managed to go this long without buying any groceries. He could just eat out and put off shopping for another day, but he had time off and he probably should take advantage of it. 

Without much more thought, he grabbed his house key and his coat, deciding to go to the grocery store just down the street, it would be a nice walk in the afternoon sun. When he opened his door, he saw you standing outside with a few empty grocery bags in hand. 

“You heading down to the store?” he asked and you nodded with a smile. 

“You too?” 

“I don’t have the hardware,” he pointed to your bags. “But the fridge is empty, so yeah, I figured it was about time to do a grocery run. How’s your hand doing?” 

“A lot better than last week. Thanks for asking,” you looked down at your bandaged palm. “Excited to be able to take this off.” 

Just as James was about to say goodbye and wish you a good rest of your afternoon, your door opened and a young girl stepped out. 

“Mom, I can’t do up my zipper, it keeps getting stuck,” she grumbled. 

“Here, let me give you a hand with that,” you bent down and put the grocery bags to the side, helping her out with the finicky zipper. “Maybe we need to get you a new jacket, this one’s starting to get a bit tight, huh?” 

The girl nodded and thanked you for your help by giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“Mom, who’s that?” she pointed to James and you chuckled a little. 

“I was just about to introduce you two,” you said. “Nadia, this is James, James this is Nadia. My daughter.” 

“Nice to meet you, Nadia,” James waved and she waved back. 

“Are you friends with my mom?” she asked. 

“I-I think so,” James nodded. 

“Yeah, we’re friends,” you agreed. 

“If he’s your friend can he come over for dinner tonight?” Nadia asked. 

You looked in between your daughter and James once a few times before saying, 

“You know, I think it’s his day off, I’m not too sure if he had plans already.” 

James shoved his hand in his pockets and asked, 

“And what if I don’t have plans?”

You bit back a small smile, “Then I would say, do you want to come get groceries and have dinner with us tonight?” 

“I’d love to.” 

“Nice,” Nadia grinned. “That means we get dessert.” 

You scoffed and looked down at your daughter, “Is that what this was all about?” 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged her shoulders innocently and you shook your head, locking the door behind you and beginning to walk down the stairs, Nadia leading the way and James at your side. 

“You never mentioned you had a daughter,” James said quietly while you walked down the sidewalk, Nadia running ahead to press the button for the crosswalk. 

“Never came up,” you shrugged. “She was with her dad both times you saw me before.” 

“She’s cute,” James said simply. “Looks a lot like her mom.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, trying to ignore the warm feeling rising up in your cheeks. 

You watched as Nadia came running back up to you both and tapped James on the arm. 

“Do you like apple crumble and ice cream?” she asked. 

“I do,” James nodded. “I used to make it with my mom when I was around your age.” 

“My mom makes it with me too,” Nadia grinned. “Can we have that for dessert tonight?” 

“Sure, if they have the granny smith apples, if not maybe we can make a peach cobbler instead,” you suggested and Nadia agreed, taking your hand and dragging you towards the store so you could get the ingredients faster. 

You and James did your shopping in parallel and would both send Nadia on small quests to retrieve some things you needed to keep her busy. 

“You’re pretty good with kids,” you commented after he had told Nadia about her next ‘top secret mission’. 

“Comes a bit with the job,” he said, sifting through the peppers on the produce stand to find a few good ones. “It’s nice to be reminded every once in a while that not all kids are going through treatment.” 

“I don’t know how you’d be able to see that every day,” you shook your head and sighed. “I would be a wreck if Nadia was in the hospital.” 

“Well, let’s hope that never happens.” 

“James! I got the berries!” Nadia came speeding back and handed him the basket of strawberries before taking a moment to catch her breath. 

“Wow, that was fast,” he grinned. “Come on, I think it’s about time we go pay for all this stuff.” 

You weren’t sure whether it was slight of hand or if James had an in with the cashier, but he managed to pay for the groceries, insisting it was just paying for dinner, so to even it out you slipped 50$ to the cashier to pay for his things. 

“It’s not really letting me pay for dinner if you just pay for my stuff too,” he teased you as you walked home. 

“If you’re really that set on paying me back you can come help me and Nadia cook. Maybe make sure I don’t cut my hand again,” you waved your bandaged hand in the air. 

“Alright,” he conceded. “I’ll be over as soon as I drop these off.” 

When you got home, you and Nadia quickly cleared up a few of her toys from the living room and a few minutes later, as expected, James’ knock echoed through the apartment. Nadia beat you to the door and grabbed James’ hand, bringing him to the kitchen and shutting the door behind them. 

“Since you know how to make the crumble you can wash and peel the apples,” Nadia instructed. 

“Is this okay with mom?” James asked. 

“I’ve tried your cooking before, it’s okay with me,” you nodded. “Nadia, hon, do you want to help with the salad? Like I taught you?” 

She nodded her head and went to wash her hands quickly before standing up on a stool so she could reach the counter and cut the vegetables. 

“Be very careful with the knife, okay? Don’t make the same mistake mom did otherwise James is gonna start asking for our medical insurance,” you teased and Nadia gave you the classic, 

“I know, I know. I’ve done this like a million times.” 

“Well, let’s make it a million and one without accidents,” James added and you mouthed a thank you to him. 

Nadia was chopping away and bossing all of you around like she was head chef at a restaurant, all the while interrogating James about his work at the hospital and how he ended up in the apartment across the hall. 

“Where did you live before?” she asked. 

“Uh, kind of close to where your mom works,” he said. “In a house with a nice apple tree in the front yard.” 

“So why did you move to an apartment then?” 

James chuckled. “Good question. I um, I used to be married, but I’m not anymore so I decided to move somewhere different.” 

“Like mom and dad,” Nadia nodded her head in understanding. 

“Yeah, a bit like your mom and dad, I guess,” he agreed. “Do you like it in this building?” 

“Yeah,” Nadia nodded. “And mom cooks better than dad, but don’t tell him that.” 

“It’ll be our little secret,” James winked and finished mixing the apples with cinnamon, sugar, and a few other spices and ingredients. 

Dinner was ready within the next hour and dessert followed soon after, much to Nadia’s excitement. 

“Okay, moment of truth,” James sucked some air through his teeth as he served Nadia a plate with some ice cream on the side.

She dug into it and put on her best thinking face before giving a big thumbs up and a smile. 

“Phew,” James sat back down in his seat and Nadia giggled at his exaggeration. He finished serving you and himself before putting the ice cream back in your freezer so it wouldn’t melt. 

“So, did you enjoy your day off?” you asked. 

“More than I was expecting to,” he nodded. “Thank you guys for having me over.” 

“Maybe you can come again next time I’m back with mom?” Nadia suggested. “Can we have dinner with James?” 

“I mean, if he wants to I have no objection,” you agreed with her. 

“I’ll mark it in my calendar.” 

Nadia quietly celebrated and said something about having dessert every time and you gave her a warning look that only encouraged her to continue to be cheeky. 

Dessert was followed by a sugar rush, and crash and while Nadia snored on the couch you were saying goodbye to James and thanking him for spending the day. 

“She really likes you,” you looked over at your sleeping daughter on the couch. 

“Feeling’s mutual,” he smiled softly. 

“You know, if you ever want company or a friend, my door’s always open,” you told him. “Even if it’s just someone to sit in silence with you at the end of a long day.” 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

“And I’m sorry about your divorce,” you said. “If I can say one thing it’s just that it gets better. Eventually.”

He nodded his head and gave you a sad smile. 

“Helps when you have a friend who understands,” he patted your arm and wished you goodnight walking across the hall and disappearing behind the door. 

—

The couch was your favourite place to grade assignments and midterms. Final exams needed something a little more substantial considering how long they’d take when you didn’t have a teaching assistant helping you. 

You didn’t know how many cups of coffee you’d gone through when you heard the knock on your door. 

“It’s James,” you heard through the other side. “A little birdy told me you were stuck grading all day.” 

“Come in,” you called back and he opened the unlocked door and slipped inside, coming to join you on the couch. 

“I brought you a pick me up but I see that may send you into cardiac arrest,” he looked over at your many mugs littering the table. 

“I have a weird thing about making coffee in the same cup,” you shook your head. “And I will take that,” you grabbed the to-go mug out of his hands, taking a sip of the piping hot drink. “God, sometimes when I’m writing these tests I forget I have to grade them too.” 

James chuckled and looked over at the papers laid out on the coffee table. 

“Why don’t you take a short break. No one expects you to get all the exams back the day after midterms,” he said. 

“Yeah, but my TA expects me to grade all the long proofs so that they can do their part and grade the short answer stuff,” you sighed. “But you’re right I should take a break before I start taking marks off for using a weird letter as a variable, or something more complicated than that, I don’t know I can barely think straight anymore.” 

James took the coffee and midterm out of your hands, putting them on the table, letting you lean back further into the couch and close your eyes for two seconds. 

“Is Nadia with her dad?” he asked. 

“Yeah, visiting her grandparents,” you nodded. “I hope they don’t fill her head with too much nonsense.” 

James looked at you a little confused so you explained further, “They hated me, don’t know why. Maybe because they expected Mike to have a stay at home wife, but after we graduated I wanted more.” 

“So you went to get your master’s and doctorate,” James filled in and you nodded. 

“They thought I was trying to make their son look stupid, but they grossly overestimated my motives,” you chuckled humourlessly. “I’m just really nerdy and like math. I wanted to learn more so I did.”

“And what did your ex think?” he asked. 

“Mike…he’s an interesting guy,” you shrugged. “I don’t think he’s a bad person, he was just a bad husband for me. He’s a decent dad, he’s there for Nadia, but he wasn’t there for me when I needed him to be.” you shared. “What about you? What went wrong there?” 

“The first time or the second?” he asked with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“No kids I’m guessing,” you said and he shook his head.

“First time, I was working two jobs to keep us afloat while she was at an unpaid internship. We both had terrible communication skills, and shouldn't have been married in the first place. The second time, I think I screwed that one up.” 

He ran a hand through his hair before letting both his hands rest in his lap. 

“Marriage is hard as hell,” you sighed. “I mean I wasn’t much of a picnic for Mike either.” 

“You don’t have to try and make me feel better,” he assured you. “Although I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“I’m serious. A marriage goes two ways and yeah sure, one person can screw up bigger than the other, but it’s not that one person is perfect and the other isn’t,” you said. 

James pursed his lips and leaned forward, his arms resting against his legs. He wished it was that simple. 

“Okay, my goal was not to bring down the mood,” James finally said. “This was supposed to be a fun work break.” 

“I hate to tell you you’re failing miserably at the fun part,” you teased. 

“Alright, then tell me why you decided to study math, of all the things you could have learnt about, why did math speak to you the most?” 

“Katherine Johnson,” you said and yawned, rubbing your eyes. “I read about her in some random book in the library and I realized that numbers are what make everything in the world work. If she could send a rocket ship to space using math, then she had a superpower and I wanted a taste of it.” 

“Did you get a taste of it?” 

“Did my master’s degree research while jointly working with NASA, so yeah, I did,” you nodded with a smile. “And unfortunately, I have to use that superpower to finish grading these. You can stay if you want, I don’t mind.” 

James looked at his watch and sighed, 

“I have a meeting scheduled with the hospital board tomorrow morning. I should probably go get some sleep. Don’t stay up too late, okay?” 

You patted his leg and assured him you’d be in bed within the next few hours whether you liked it or not. Your body probably wouldn’t let you stay up any longer. 

James gave your hand a gentle squeeze and said goodnight, showing himself out. 

—

The sound of the phone ringing echoed through the house and you called for Nadia to pick it up, busy washing dishes. When she didn’t respond, you sighed to yourself and quickly turned off the water, wiping your hands and going to pick the phone up yourself. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, it’s James.” 

“James, what’s up? Aren’t you still at work?” you asked, looking over at the clock. 

“That’s actually what I’m calling about, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make dinner this week,” he said. “Something’s come up and I’m going to be here late.” 

“Oh that’s too bad. We’ll just have to reschedule,” you assured him. 

“Can you put Nadia on the line? I wanted to apologize to her myself.” 

“Sure,” you chuckled and called Nadia again. She came out of her room, rubbing her eyes and you told her James was on the phone asking for her. She took the phone from you and said hello, talking to James for a short while. You could see she was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to make it, but you heard him promise to make it up to her with a movie night one weekend instead.

“Bye James,” she said and nodded her head in response to something he said before hanging up. “He says bye to you too.” 

“Thanks honey,” you patted her back. “Are you feeling okay?” you asked. “You’re looking a little tired.”

“I feel tired,” she confirmed. “Can I go take a nap?”

“Sure,” you rubbed her back. “Do you want me to come and stay with you?” 

“I’m okay right now,” she yawned. 

You nodded your head and watched her make her way back to her bedroom. That evening you had a quiet dinner, deciding maybe to make soup in case Nadia was coming down with something. She didn’t have much of an appetite, only eating half of her bowl before beginning to cough, one of those deep chest coughs that made you feel a little worried. 

You quickly got her changed in her pyjamas and had her sleep in your bed for the night so you could keep a close eye on her. 

Your instincts that something was wrong ended up being right, as Nadia woke up with a continuing cough in the middle of the night and she felt hot to the touch. 

“Nadia, honey are you going to be okay here for two minutes? I’m gonna go see if I can get some help,” you said and she nodded her head while continuing to cough. 

Quickly, you ran over to James’ place and knocked on the door, an arm wrapped around your stomach while you chewed on your fingernails. 

James opened the door wearing a college t-shirt and sweatpants, immediately taking in your concerned features and asking what was wrong. 

“Nadia got sick and I think she’s getting worse,” you bit your tongue. “I’m so sorry to wake you up, but could you come check on her for me?” 

“Of course,” James nodded, placing a hand on your back as he stepped out of his apartment, closing the door behind him and walking back to yours. 

You led him over to your room where Nadia was laying down and he took a seat next to her on the bed and placed his hand on her arm, letting her know he was there. 

“James?” she coughed. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gave her a soft smile. “I heard you weren’t feeling too good.” 

She nodded her head. 

“Is it okay if I do a quick check up to see what’s wrong?” he asked and she nodded again, letting him help her sit up. 

He first touched her forehead with the back of his hand to feel her temperature and then placed his ear to her chest to listen to her breathing. 

“Thanks, Nadia, you can lay back down now while I talk to your mom, okay? Try and stay on your side, it'll help with the cough.” 

James motioned for you to follow him just outside of the room so he could tell you what he thought was going on. 

“I think she’s caught some kind of bug that’s causing pneumonia,” he said. “Her breathing didn’t sound too great so I think it’s a safe bet to take her to the hospital, but I’d say you still have time to pack a bag with a few things and I can get Nadia ready and drive you guys.” 

“James, you don’t have to do that,” you shook your head. “I already woke you up and-,” 

“I insist,” he said. “You walk with me into that ER and I’m allowed to boss around the nurses and call the best doctor in pediatrics.” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head and took a shaky deep breath. “She’s gonna be okay, r-right?” 

“They’ll give her an antiviral or antibiotic and keep her for a few nights to make sure it doesn’t get worse and before you know it she’ll be good as new.” 

You chewed on your lip and went to go pack a bag with a few of your things and Nadia’s while James helped Nadia get out of bed and into some shoes and a warm jacket with a hat so the cold air didn’t bite at her. 

“Are you coming with us?” Nadia asked James after a string of coughs. 

“Sure am,” he nodded. “I’m gonna drive and your mom’s gonna sit in the back with you.” 

“Why do we have to go to the hospital?” she asked. 

“Well, sometimes when we get sick at night that’s the fastest way to see a doctor and get the right medicine to get better,” James explained, opening his arms up for Nadia to climb into them to he could carry her to the car just as you had come out with a packed duffle bag. 

“We can take your car,” you said. “I’ll find my way back tomorrow to get mine.” 

James nodded his head and quickly went into his place to grab his keys and lock the door behind him. 

He drove as fast as he could while still being within the speed limit, keeping an eye on his rearview mirror, seeing Nadia huddled up into your side. 

“Mom, my chest hurts,” Nadia blinked back a few tears. 

“Hold on, hon, we’re almost there,” you squeezed onto her a little tighter. 

James pulled into the ER parking lot and grabbed Nadia while you got your things, walking into the hospital together. 

“Dr. Wilson, what are you doing here?” one of the nurses asked, confused. 

“I’ve got a young girl, seven-years-old with pneumonia symptoms, we should get her on oxygen, do a test for bacterial and viral infections, and get a chest x-ray as soon as possible. And call Dr. Herberts, tell her I’m calling in my favour,” he instructed while placing Nadia down on one of the beds. “Nadia, this is my friend Alice,” he motioned to one of the nurses, “She’s gonna be with you while we figure out what’s going on.” 

“What about you?” she asked while James grabbed the oxygen mask from one of the nurses. 

“Your mom and I need to deal with a few other things before we can come be with you, but I promise Alice is going to take really good care of you. She’s really nice.” 

“Promise you’ll come?” she asked and James stuck out his pinky for her to link with her own. 

“Swear it,” he nodded. “Now can you put this on for me?” he asked, showing her the oxygen mask. “It’s going to help you breathe.” 

She nodded her head and let James slip the mask over her head before the nurses wheeled her off to get the tests done. 

James turned around and saw you finishing giving your information to one of the attendants and she was about to inform you where to go wait, but James motioned that he had it covered and she nodded. 

Your exhaustion and worry had become all muddled together and you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore, covering your mouth with your hand while James came and wrapped you in his arms. 

“She’s gonna be okay,” he assured you. “You did the right thing.” 

You nodded your head and reciprocated the hug, burying your face in his shoulder to hide your tears from the onlookers. 

After a few more moments, you pulled away and James quickly helped you wipe away your tears with the heel of his palm before wrapping his arm around you and leading you to radiology where Nadia would be getting her chest x-ray done. 

He sat with you in the waiting room chairs until they brought Nadia out and told you that you could follow them to her room in the pediatrics ward. 

By the time you got there and were settled with Nadia, James looked at the clock and noticed his shift would be starting in around an hour. 

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said, quietly, gently brushing your fingers against Nadia’s cheek. 

“Of course I did,” James smiled. “I pinky promised.” 

Nadia looked up at you and nodded, making you chuckle. 

“Nadi, can James go home so he can get ready for work?” you asked. 

“I’ll come back and see you later after you’ve rested,” he assured her, “But nobody's gonna believe I’m a doctor dressed in these PJs.” 

Nadia giggled, “You can go. Mom says you work here so you have to come back.” 

“Bingo,” James snapped and gave her a thumbs up. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.” 

He bent down and pressed a small kiss to her forehead, wishing her to get better before reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. His signal to you that everything would be okay.

You pressed your lips together, knowing you were on the verge of tears again, but begged them not to leave your eyes. Instead, you watched misty eyed as this man who you didn’t even know only months ago cared for you and your daughter without question. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and so you let yourself soak in it for as long as it lasted. 

—

After James had left, you called your ex and explained to him what had happened and he came to join you and Nadia at the hospital. The morning passed without much eventfulness and the doctor and nurses came to periodically check on Nadia, adjusting her medication and seeing if her symptoms were changing. 

You left her with her father so that you could grab a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, barely having gotten a wink of sleep last night. When you returned, you couldn’t see Mike in the room with her, assuming he’d just made a run to the washroom, but instead you saw James sitting on the side of her bed talking to her. 

He was dressed in his white coat, his hair a little scruffy and messy like it normally was. It looked like he was playing some sort of game with her because you could hear laughter and teasing through the glass walls and you decided to give them a minute alone together. 

“Who’s that?” you could hear Mike’s voice ask as he walked up next to you. 

“Dr. Wilson,” you said absentmindedly, smiling to yourself while Nadia laughed at James’ defeat in a thumb war. 

“Acting more like a candy-striper than a doctor,” Mike muttered. 

You continued to watch as Nadia pointed to the IV in her hand and James examined it for a moment, explaining something to her before pressing a gentle kiss to the affected area and telling her that he unfortunately had to leave, but he’d come again later and see her. Nadia pulled him in for a hug and they exchanged cute kisses on the cheek. At least it was cute to you, but to Mike who had no idea what was going on they looked a little suspicious. 

“What the hell is he doing with my daughter?” he asked you, pushing past to try and give him a piece of his mind. 

“Mike, wait!” you ran up to him, but he wouldn’t stop. “Mike, would you stop and listen to me for a minute!” 

He stopped and turned to look at you, “You have an explanation for this?” 

“Yes, I do,” you scoffed. “He’s my neighbour. He drove Nadia and I here last night. Just lay off. He’s a friend.” 

Mike didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he listened and as James came out of Nadia’s room he pushed past him to go be with his daughter. 

You rolled your eyes at his actions while James came to stand with you. 

“I take it that’s Mike,” he said and you nodded your head with a chuckle. “Nadia looks a lot better.” 

“Yeah, doctor’s said they want to keep her under observation one or two more days just to make sure everything is all okay and then they’ll send us home with some antivirals since they don’t think it was caused by a bacterial infection,” you explained. 

“And how are you?” he asked and you took a deep breath, prompting him to reach for your hand that was by your side. 

“I’m tired, I’m worried, I have to deal with Mike, I just…” you shook your head. “I’m happy you’re here.” 

He gave you a half smile and brushed his thumb across your knuckles.

“You need anything and you call my pager. I’ll be right over,” he insisted. “And if you need a moment alone you can sit on the couch in my office.” 

“Thank you,” you said. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah, see you.” 

His hand slipped out of yours as he walked away. You were just about to go back into the room with Nadia before you felt someone tap on your shoulder. 

When you turned around you saw Lisa there with a small teddy bear in her hand from the gift shop.

“Hey,” you smiled and wrapped her in a hug. 

“How’s Nadia? Wilson told me you had to bring her here last night.” she asked. 

“She’s doing okay, a lot better than yesterday,” you shared with your friend. 

“Will she be fine in there with Mike for a bit if I steal you?” she asked and you nodded your head. “Let me go in and say hi and give her this then we can walk.” 

You went in with her and gave a kiss to Nadia whispering to her that you were going to go for a walk, but would be back soon. 

“Mike,” Lisa gave him a curt nod which he returned before she turned her attention to Nadia, the expression on her face changing from one of neutrality to a smile while she handed her the gift and assured her she was gonna get better so fast and be out of the hospital in no time. 

“I’m just gonna take your mom to make sure she gets something to eat so she can keep taking care of you. Does that sound good?” Lisa asked and Nadia agreed. 

“James said you’d do that.” 

“Oh, did he now,” Lisa placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll have to have a little chat with him later. You know I am his boss,” she winked and Nadia giggled. 

You stepped out of the hospital room and once you were a bit of a distance away Lisa looked over to you. 

“What was all that about right before I came?” she asked. “With Wilson?” 

“James? Oh he was just checking in on me and Nadi,” you shook your head. “It was nothing.” 

“Didn’t look like nothing,” Lisa raised her brows and you rolled your eyes. 

“We’re not in high school. It was a rough night and he was there for it. That’s all.” 

“And what did Mike think about that?” Lisa asked. 

“He wasn’t impressed,” you sighed. “But he doesn’t really know how much time we’re spending together and he doesn’t need to because he’s not in charge of me.” 

“He is half in charge of Nadia though,” Lisa said, making a fair point. “Just be open enough with him that it won’t be a headache when it comes to her.” 

You nodded your head, and didn’t argue with Lisa when she offered to buy you something for breakfast. 

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked. 

“Last night, dinner,” you sighed, Lisa took the coffee out of your hands saying you shouldn’t be drinking the caffeine on an empty stomach and you chuckled a little at her motherly attitude. 

You sat down at one of the tables and began to eat with her lightly chatting about a few things that had happened since you had last seen each other. 

“You know, if anyone gives you trouble you can just call me,” she said. 

“Is that an abuse of your power as Dean?” you asked, with a slight air of teasing in your voice.

“Not really,” she shrugged. “I’m just trying to make sure the patients here get the best care possible.” 

“Especially when that patient is your unofficial niece,” you winked and she kicked you lightly under the table. 

When you finished eating, Lisa walked you back to Nadia’s room before going to the clinic. Nadia was sleeping now and Mike was reading a magazine in the chair next to her bed. 

“Thanks for staying with her,” you said. “I hadn’t eaten since last night.” 

“No problem,” he said without looking up from the book. 

You took a deep breath and sat down on the chair on the opposite side of Nadia’s bed, twiddling your thumbs. 

“She talked a lot about Dr. Wilson,” he said, finally breaking the silence, putting the magazine off to the side. 

“Yeah, she likes him a lot,” you nodded. 

“Do you like him a lot?” he asked. 

You shook your head at his question, “Mike does it matter what I feel? We’re not married anymore. I can understand your concern for Nadia, but I can tell you with certainty that he’s shown us nothing but kindness.” 

Mike looked at you for a moment with a piercing stare before backing off and leaning back in his chair, opening the magazine once again. 

—

You rarely liked the idea of being away from Nadia, but tonight you were feeling grateful she was at her dad’s place. The furnace had broken in your apartment and the only thing warming it was a small space heater you had in your room that was doing a job it was not built to do. 

You were huddled under blankets wearing a hoodie and two pairs of pants, still feeling the cold air cut through somehow. You were just about to give up any hope of sleep when you heard a quiet knock at your door and curiously you made your way there, grabbing your housecoat as an extra layer.

When you looked through the peephole you saw James on the other side, just as bundled as you so you quickly opened the door, wondering if he was in a similar circumstance to you. 

“Hey, I-I’m sorry were you asleep?” he asked and you shook your head. “My furnace broke and it’s absolutely freezing in my place, can I sleep on your couch tonight?”

“Talk about coincidence, mine’s broken too,” you chuckled. “I do have a space heater in my room, it’s not much but it’s better.” 

“I-I wouldn’t want to-,” 

“James, we're both freezing our asses off. Come inside.” 

He didn’t argue with you and followed you over to your room. When you got there, you both stared at the bed like maybe something would change to make the situation less awkward and when it didn’t you took the lead, climbing into one side and getting under the covers. 

James looked a little nervous, but he followed your lead, getting in on the other side. 

It felt weird to talk so you both stayed silent, turning your backs to the centre of the bed and trying to focus on curling up to stay warm. 

Unfortunately for you, you could feel your body start to move the blood away from your extremities in order to keep your core warm. It came with light shivering and some chattering of your teeth that you desperately tried to stop until you felt a hand on your arm. 

“Turn around,” James said and you listened, maneuvering yourself so you were facing him, your bodies just a few inches apart. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you fully into him, letting his legs tangle with yours. 

You could feel your heart beating in your ears while he brought your hands up to his chest, holding them in his slightly warmer ones, using a bit of friction to help them regain their heat. 

“Better?” he asked and you silently nodded your head. “Good.” 

Eventually you had regained enough heat that your body felt well enough to let you fall asleep and you could feel your eyes slowly begin to close as your head rested against James’ chest. He made sure you had enough room to breathe, but kept a tight hold on you until sleep came for him too. 

—

“You slept with him?” 

“I did not sleep with him,” you emphasized, pacing your office. “I slept with him. In the same bed. Together.” 

“And you are freaking out about this, why?” Lisa asked. 

“Because you don’t sleep in the same bed as your neighbours, Lisa!” you insisted. “But we did, a-and I was cold and he held me and…I liked it,” you finished in a whisper. 

“What’s stopping you then?” she asked. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor-,” 

“He’s divorced.” 

“You’re divorced,” Lisa countered. 

“Exactly,” you nodded. “He’s divorced twice. I’m divorced with a kid. That makes things… complicated.” 

“Are you trying to stop Nadia from getting hurt, or are you trying to find an excuse to stop yourself because you’re too scared to see where this goes?” she asked you and you sighed. 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “How can I tell that everything won’t just fall apart if I do something?” 

“You can’t,” Lisa stood up and put a hand on your arm. “Just try to trust your gut, that’s all you can do in situations like this.” 

“My gut is telling me to kiss him and run away,” you shook your head and Lisa nodded, 

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t do that.” 

“I’ll figure it out though, right. Eventually.” 

Lisa didn’t say anything, simply giving you a hug, knowing deep down you knew what the right thing to do was and like you said, eventually, you’d come to the same conclusion. 

—

Hearing the knock at your door, Nadia bounced off the couch and raced to open it, knowing what was awaiting her on the other side. 

James leaned into the doorway when Nadia swung the door open and said, 

“What night is it again?” 

“Movie night!” Nadia cheered and jumped into his arms, her eyes growing wide when she saw the assortment of treats he was holding. 

“It’s not a movie night without snacks,” he said and Nadia agreed with him. You came up towards them and snatched away two of the bags of candy. 

“She just got a hundred percent clean bill of health from her pediatrician, you really wanna go and mess that up with all this candy?” you asked. 

“Come on, I’m a doctor, I know what I’m doing,” James assured. “We’ll be reasonable, right Nadia?” 

The young girl nodded her head and swore on her allowance that she wouldn’t eat all the candy. Hesitantly, you handed the bags back and gave them a skeptical look while they walked over to the couch to get things started. 

You finished what you were doing in the kitchen and brought over a bowl of popcorn with you smiling to yourself when you saw Nadia sitting in James’ lap and telling him how to use the remote for your TV. You placed the bowl on the table and went to change into something a little more comfortable for the evening, hoping that by the time you came out they had picked something to watch. 

When you stepped out of your room, now wearing a sweater and some flannel pyjama pants, Nadia informed you they were just about to start the movie. 

“Come sit, quick mom,” she patted the spot next to her and James and you slipped in next to them, noticing how James wrapped his arm around you, bringing you in a little closer. You didn’t fight the close proximity and instead leaned into it more, resting your head against his shoulder. 

Nadia had already leaned back against his chest, her eyes fixed on the screen and her hand shoved inside one of the bags of candy James had brought. The top of her head was just resting against the side of James’ chin and when you looked up at him he was glancing down at Nadia, a small smile on his lips. He looked content. 

You could have stayed like that all night, just watching them, but you knew sooner or later you’d have to pay attention to the movie before they started asking questions. 

Around halfway through the movie, James tapped your arm and you looked up at him, seeing him point to Nadia with his eyes, who was now fast asleep on him. 

You chuckled quietly, sitting up a little straighter and saying, 

“I can move her to her bedroom. You don’t have to stay for the rest of the movie.” 

“Actually, I’m kind of invested,” James admitted. “But I will take you up on the moving her option, I’ve had to go pee since like the second musical number and she’s really squeezing my bladder.” 

You bit back a laugh and shook your head, pausing the movie and standing up so you could genty lift Nadia off of James’ lap and carry her over to her bedroom, tucking her under the covers and placing a kiss to her forehead before going back out to the living room. 

James was in the washroom still so you went and made yourself and him a mug of tea. When he came out, he joined you in the kitchen watching as you poured the hot water into the two colourful mugs with math puns on them. 

“You take anything in your tea?” you asked. 

“No, do you?” 

“A little sugar,” you nodded and he offered to grab it for you, opening the cupboard in front of you and placing a hand on your back moving you slightly out of the way so he could take out the box of sugar cubes. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact and you hoped he didn’t hear it, instead masking your desire with small talk. 

“I thought you had a sweet tooth,” you said. “It would explain all the candy.” 

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth sometimes,” he admitted. 

“I think Nadia enables you,” you grabbed your mug and passed James his. 

“Oh she definitely does,” he nodded his head, taking a sip of the steaming hot drink before walking back to the couch with you. 

You fell back into the same positions you were before, pressing play and continuing to watch the movie. After a few things progressed in the plot you spoke up asking,

“You think this movie’s going to have a happily ever after?” 

“Sure, it’s a kid’s movie,” James nodded and looked down at you. “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “It’s stupid.” 

James rubbed your arm, coaxing you to look back up at him again. 

“You were thinking about something, what was it?” 

“It’s just the happy endings don’t always happen,” you said. “I don’t know if I should let Nadi live in a world of fairytales or destroy all her hope of the future.” 

“Maybe life isn’t all bells and whistles when it comes to love,” James started. “But we win with other things. I mean look at you, you’ve got an amazing daughter and you’re doing something you love with your life, isn’t that its own kind of happily ever after?” 

“I guess it is,” you nodded. 

“And you know, your life isn’t over. Who’s to say love is out of the picture?” 

You were looking up at him and wondered how he could hit the nail on the head so accurately, like he could read your mind. 

Right now, love was pretty clearly in the picture and it was sitting right in front of you. 

You could feel yourself reach out your hand, gently brushing your fingertips against his cheek. 

“And what if I’m not brave enough to go after it?” you whispered, feeling your heartbeat mixed with his and his shaky exhale that came with your touch. 

“Then maybe,” his thumb and forefinger came to hold your chin up, his face inching closer to yours. “Maybe it can meet you halfway.” 

You could feel your eyes flutter shut and his lips just barely ghost against yours when you heard a sound coming from Nadia’s bedroom and the spell was broken. 

You both opened your eyes and after a moment you pulled away, just before Nadia opened the door to her room. 

“Why was I in my room?” she asked. 

You were still too stunned to speak, your mind racing at the idea that you were just about to kiss James, and he was going to kiss you back. You felt like a teenager, not knowing what to say or how to act. 

Luckily, James was a little more composed than you and explained to Nadia that she had fallen asleep and that you both didn’t want to wake her. 

“Is the movie over?” she asked and you all looked at the screen, seeing the end credits rolling. 

“Yeah, it is, sorry sweetheart,” James apologized. “Can I make it up to you and read you a story before you go back to bed?” 

“Sure,” Nadia agreed. 

“Go brush your teeth first,” you instructed. “I’ll tuck you in once James is done reading.” 

Nadia went off to the washroom and before James could say anything you stood up and grabbed a few of the dirty dishes, taking them to the kitchen to clean up. You couldn’t talk about what had just happened, not now at least, not when it was still so fresh. 

 You focused only on the dishes and cleaning the kitchen while James read Nadia her story before wishing her goodnight with a kiss on her forehead and waving goodbye to you and thanking you for the tea. 

When the door closed behind him you let out a small breath that you had been holding and went to tuck Nadia into bed. 

“Mom, are you okay?” Nadia asked, sensing your far off look. 

“I’m fine,” you assured her with a forced smile. “Rest up, I have to take you to your dad’s place tomorrow.” 

“Okay,” she yawned. “Night, mom.” 

“Goodnight, honey.” 

You kissed her on the cheek and stood up, going over to your room and sitting on the edge of the bed. You brushed your fingers against your own lips, closing your eyes you could still feel James pressed up against you, but you pushed it away. 

Clearly, you still weren’t brave enough. Not yet. 

—

The following weeks were awkward to say the least. You began spending more time in your office when Nadia was with her dad, just for another excuse to avoid James in the hallway. 

He hadn’t made too much effort to reach out, you assumed to give you your space. You knew if you told Lisa she would just say you were overthinking things, but you couldn’t get out of your head, even if you wanted to. 

You felt like you were going to stay in this crippling state of indecision forever, but you couldn’t keep it up, not when Nadia would ask questions, you needed to come up with something or someone needed to come up with something for you. 

You arrived home late from campus today, this time with the legitimate excuse of grading finals. After the long hours of marking that had pushed you to extreme tedium and boredom you just wanted to curl up on the couch with a good book or something that would stimulate your brain. 

Before you went to your room to get changed, you heard a knock at your door. Checking the time you wondered who it could be. It wasn’t often you had visitors past 9PM, that was unless it was James. 

When you checked through the peephole, you could see James standing outside your door, waiting for a moment before knocking again. 

“Come on, I know you’re in there,” he said. “Please, just let me in.” 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, unlocking the door and opening it, allowing him to step inside. 

“Is Nadia at her dad’s place?” he asked while you were shutting the door. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, still facing the wood door. “She’s at her-,” 

You didn’t have a chance to finish your sentence before James turned you around, taking your face in his hands and pressing a searing kiss to your lips. 

You stumbled back until you were pressed against the door, your eyes now closed while you pulled him closer to you. You let yourself run your fingers through your hair like you’d dreamt of doing the night you almost kissed, his hands moving from your face down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

You could feel your heart beating throughout every cell in your body, so loud it almost blocked out your thoughts. Almost. 

You paused for a moment, holding James’ face in your hands and pulling away. Your lips felt swollen from the force with which he had kissed you and you wanted nothing more than to do it again, but you had to ask. 

“Is our history going to make this complicated?” 

“It’ll be complicated if we make it complicated,” he snuck past your defenses and stole another kiss, shorter, softer. “I want this. You. I want quiet nights just the two of us; loud nights with Nadia; breakfast in the early morning; lunches in your office; dinner together like this makeshift family we’ve created. I just…I want you and everything that comes with it.” 

You smiled at his words, bringing him in close to you again for another kiss, this time long and slow like you were dragging out every moment of the future you had together. 

When James pulled away from you, your hands fell from his face, travelling down his arms until they were in his. You looked over at him, blinking a few times until began to pull you towards your bedroom, a small smile coming across your face. 

James sat down on the edge of your mattress and you stood in front of him. His hands were still in yours, looking up into your eyes. You let your hands come back up to his hair, scratching against his scalp. You smiled when his eyes closed and he hummed at the feeling of your touch. 

His hands came back to hold your waist and he brought you closer, his thumb rubbing circles around your skin. 

You bent down and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, causing his eyes to flutter open when you pulled away. 

“What do you want to do?” you asked, fixing his hair you had messed up just earlier. 

“I want to lay down here, and hold you,” he leaned back and pulled you on top of himself, sharing another kiss with you. “And I want to fall asleep knowing you’re in my arms.”

You smiled and nodded your head, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ while you adjusted yourselves to be more in the centre of the mattress. 

And just like before, James pulled you close into him, but this time you didn’t let yourself feel taken aback or nervous, you leaned into his touch, savoured when you felt his lips pressed against your hairline, sighed when you felt his hands slip under your shirt to trace mindless shapes on your back. 

No equation or formula would be able to describe what you were feeling and it made you realize that maybe math wasn’t the world’s universal language after all.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

[lanawinterscigarettes]

House MD masterlist

Requests are currently open!

Key:

Fluff: ♡ Angst: ♤ Smut: ♧ Headcanons: ◇ May contain triggering content: ☆

~

Greg House

Sweatshirt ♡

More Important ♡

Your Last Breath ♤☆

Kinktober 2024 Day 6: feedism (feeding kink) with Greg House x male reader ♧

~

James Wilson

James Wilson dating someone who gets cuteness aggression ◇

James Wilson and love languages ◇

James Wilson accidentally consuming an aphrodisiac ◇

How James Wilson would react to the reader wanting to wait until marriage to have sex ◇

Period Cramps ♡

More Important ♡

How the reader would fluster James Wilson ◇

Your Last Breath ♤☆

Kinktober 2024 Day 10: James Wilson x transmasc reader having semi-public sex that involves edging/overstimulation ♧

Kinktober 2024 Day 21: James Wilson x male reader having morning/sleepy sex ♧

~

Allison Cameron

How Allison Cameron would react to a reader who has low empathy ◇

~

Remy "Thirteen" Hadley

Random characters with a reader who plays Five Nights at Freddy's ◇

Take Away the Pain ♤♡

~

[americas1suiteheart]

I have something called Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy that I was diagnosed with when I was 15 which isn't caused by flashing lights or strobes, but rather hormones. So, I decided to do something with a reader that is epileptic, just not with something exactly like mine. Enjoy!!

I Won't Tell, I Promise

James Wilson x Epileptic! Reader

Summary; Y/n has been working at Princeton for 4 years, hiding her epilepsy in fear of losing her job. But what happens when an episode comes out of nowhere?

Notes; Everyone I've met and told I have epilepsy always thinks it's light sensitive, but it's not. I wanted to kind of have this as a thing to give a bit of what it's like dealing with that stigma.

Warnings; Foul language, mentions of taking prescription drugs, epileptic episodes, angst.

Word Count; 4,230

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

You've been working at the Princeton Plainsboro teaching hospital for a short while so far.

Before Prinston, you worked at a hospital all the way over in Oklahoma City as a nurse, then to Chicago as a doctor.

You probably would've never gotten this job if you mentioned what would be considered a "safety concern", to anyone.

You were diagnosed with Myoclonic Epilepsy when you were 17 and though it was said to be hormonal, it still hasn't gone away 26 years later.

"It'll go back to normal, just give it time, it usually goes away by your 20s," the neurologists and your mother constantly reminded you that. And nearly 30 years later and they were wrong.

That's what upset you the most. The fact that they assured you that it would go away and you would no longer have to take anymore of the god damn medicines or switching them constantly. They lied to you.

But, no use in moping about it. It is what it is. This problem, this disorder, is what pushed you to do what you do now. Neurology.

The doctors and neurologists could never figure out what was "wrong" with you. Countless tests, week long EEG's, CT scans, blood tests and draws, more brain scans, everything you could think of. Nothing.

No tumors ever found, nor any family history of it.

You'd just figure it out yourself.

Being in the medical field for almost 20 years has just earned you one of the larger titles.

Dr. Y/n L/n | Head of Neurology.

You had your own office on the floor where all of the MRI and CT machines resided. Made recently for you.

You just got that title just a couple months ago, and man was it difficult.

You had to take an extra dose of medicine due to the amount of stress and lack of sleep you were getting. And you weren't about to give that title you worked so hard for up.

Maybe (you knew it was,) mixing one of the strongest medications with another concentrated one was a bad idea.

750 mg of Levetiracetam, 370 mg of Lamotrigine, and 50 mg of Clobazam 3 times daily. On top of vitamins due to deficiency.

Now, that high of a dose of the Levetiracetam was already bad enough, but mixing it with the Lamotrigine made it worse. But you couldn't have an episode on the job. You feared that if you did, you would lose not only your title, but your job, and at the worst, your medical license.

You just couldn't risk that.

"...Y/n? You okay? Can you hear me?" A hand waved in front of your face with a couple snaps, trying to get your attention

Now see, that was the tricky thing with epilepsy. Absent seizures. You never knew if you'd just spaced out or had another small seizure.

"Oh, uh, sorry. Yeah, I just spaced out for a second, my bad." You respond, forcing a smile with a chuckle.

"Oh, good. Thought I lost you there," Wilson says, putting his hand down and taking another bite of his salad.

Your watch begins to beep, indicating it was time to take the second medication of the day.

One in the morning, one during lunch, and one at night, taking each one with water and food.

"Um, give me a second, I gotta go get some water real quick. I'll be right back." You awkwardly rush.

"Don't worry, I'll get one for you. I've gotta throw my trash anyways."

"No, Wilson. Really it's fine I can get it," You began to panic. Don't panic.

"Then I'll go with you," Wilson smiles, getting up with his trash.

You mutter out an "Okay."

'He's going to ask about the pills. I've never taken my meds in front of anyone before. What do I say?' You began to freak out even more. 'What if he sees them and tells Cuddy about them? I'll lose my job.'

Technically you weren't supposed to supply your own medication to yourself. That's how House got in trouble. It's not like I'm abusing them, though. Right?

"What's that timer for?" Wilson asks.

"Well, sometimes I'll be working and I'll forget to grab lunch, so I don't want to forget to eat, y'know?" Liar.

"Oh,"

You continued walking in an awkward silence before you quickly went to the food bar and bought a bottle of water.

"You left me, what was that for?" Wilson chuckles with a hand on his hip.

'Do I just tell him? He'd be the first to know apart from my family or friends back in my hometown. No one since I left there knows about it. But I could trust him.'

"Uh, well.." You begin.

"Wilson! Come here!"

You turn around to see House marching (or trying more so,) toward the two of us.

"House-"

"Shut up, I need you. You can talk to Ms. Addict later."

'Shit, did House know?'

"Excuse me, what did you just call me?" Unbelievable.

"..real bold coming from you, House." You continue.

"At least I admit it! You’re exactly like me!" House shouts as he walks away with Wilson.

"What do you mean by 'Ms. Addict?'" Wilson asks, you being able to hear him as he walks away with House.

'If House knows, will he tell Wilson? Shit, more importantly, will he tell Cuddy?'

You sigh as you walk out of the cafeteria and go down the stairs to your respective level and enter your office.

"God, I've gotta stop this shit.." You say, picking up some x-rays of brain scans.

The patient was an 8 year old little boy. He was experiencing small seizures regularly, without any family history of seizures or epilepsy diagnosis'.

He'd been in the hospital for nearly a week now, countless tests were run, and he'd been attached to an EEG machine to see what would spike when he had an episode.

'Shit.'

You looked more closely at one of the radiographs. On the right side of his temporal lobe there were two black masses, most likely tumors, which looked to have been roughly 5 to 6 inches in size.

"Fuck.. Fuck, what do I do with this." You began to panic. There shouldn't be masses like that. This could just be something wrong with the machine, right?

You can't just stand there. You had to say something.

'Wilson,' You thought to yourself.

He would be the one to go to. You could only hope that they weren't cancerous tumors.

You gather up the rest of the radiographs and make your way out of your office to go to Wilson's, hoping that House was finished doing whatever he does, and that he would be in there.

"Hey, Dr. L/n, I was wondering if you have any updates on Noah yet?" The boy's mother stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Pieters. I was actually just looking at Noah's radiographs now. I'm going up to Dr. Wilson's office right now to go over them with him, so the final results should hopefully be out soon," You explain anxiously, still trying to sound as professional as possible.

"Oh wonderful! Once again, thank you for putting Noah in your care. You have no idea how lucky and relieved we feel now." She replies, a big smile on her face.

You feel so bad...

"Of course, Mrs. Pieters. Noah's health is one of my top priorities right now, and I couldn't be more happy to help. If you don't mind, though, I really need to go over these with Dr. Wilson right now."

"Of course. Sorry for keeping you," She apologized.

You wave her goodbye and rush to the stairs to reach Wilson's office.

You urgently knock on his door, waiting for a response, yet none came. You knock once again, and still no response. "James, are you in there? There are some radiographs I need to show you,"

You wait more, and still no response. Maybe House or Cuddy know where he is.

You go next door and open House's door, not even bothering to knock.

There House sat, throwing and catching his oversized tennis ball.

"What the hell-"

"Do you know where Wilson is?!" You cut him off in an urgency.

"He's probably in the bathroom touching himself, I'd check in there if I were you," He says sarcastically.

Oh..

"I'm being serious, House!" You roll your eyes and shout in frustration.

“Why, do you want to finally confess your undying love for him?”

You look at House with your mouth agape, looking like a fish out of water trying to create a response that wouldn't make you seem flustered. “I-”

You figured it would be near impossible to have an actual serious conversation, though not that you wanted one, with House. “I’m just gonna go ahead and go to Cuddy’s..” You sigh, frustrated with the time you’d just wasted trying to talk to him.

“Fine then! Be-” House shouts before you shut the door on him, silencing whatever bullshit he was going to say to or call you.

You make your way to Cuddy's office, looking at the radiographs on your way to make sure they really were something to be concerned about, though you would still look them over no matter what.

You knock on Cuddy's door and barge in, the same way you'd just done with House's. "Cuddy, have you seen Wils-" You say, stopping as you see Wilson standing at Cuddy's desk, going over some files.

"Oh my gosh, thank god. James, please, I need your help and time just for a moment," You plead.

"James? I got upgraded to James now?"

"Not the time now, Wilson,"

"Can you two do this somewhere else?" Cuddy says, a tinge of annoyance barely clear.

You leave Cuddy's office with Wilson following behind.

"What is it I can help you-" He says before you urgently (rudely,) cut him off.

"It's about Noah's MRI and CT scan results," You sigh, sadness in your voice.

Wilson's face softened, "Please tell me it's good,"

You pull up the radiographs and show them to him, not being able to see it all that great.

"Let's go to my office,"

You and Wilson make your way into your office, you put the pictures onto the intensifying screen and take a look at them once more, that feeling in your stomach getting deeper.

Please don't let it be bad..

"Those black masses right there at the temporal lobe, do you think those are.. tumors?" Your voice shakes.

Wilson inspects the pictures and points out the same two that you feared.

"Th-these ones?" Wilson questioned.

You nod your head.

You were horrified, but at the same time, you were anticipated. If these were the cause, then you would know why this was happening to him, unlike you with yours.

Wilson lets out a deep breath and turns to you, "We're going to have to run some more tests.. these are.. definitely tumors, but we don't know if they're cancerous..."

You sigh and rub your hands over your face.

Wilson walks to you and rubs your back with one hand, and places the other onto your shoulder.

You shiver at his touch, you began to feel dizzy and after taking your hands away from your face, you see black auras begin to obscure your vision.

And then, you blacked out.

--------------------------------------

Your head was pounding and your tongue was swollen. You looked around you in confusion as you found yourself laying on your side.

Where am I?

A hand ran through your hair as someone softly assured you that you were okay.

You get up before quickly falling back down to the floor.

"Hey, hey, L/n, just- sit back down. You're okay," a familiar voice assured you.

You blink slowly.

"Hey, look at me, look.. What's my name?"

You look at the male, his face becoming more familiar, though not enough until a couple seconds passed by, him staying patient with you.

"Wilson?" You slur.

"Good- um, what's your name, now?"

You felt like you were going to vomit. Your head was still spinning, though you were starting to become more familiar with your surroundings,

"Y/n? What happened?" You groan.

"Y/n, you just had a seizure.."

Those five words sent you into shock, though now it was beginning to quickly rise up to a panic attack..

"What?"

You put your head into your hands and brought your knees to your chest, a lump began to form in your throat and tears welled up in your eyes, "No, no, no, no, no, oh god, no..." You sobbed. You let yourself stress out enough to the point that you had an episode after not having one for nearly 6 months. You were doing so good. God there's no way you're going to ever drive again.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, Y/n." Wilson tried to assure you as he patted your back.

"No, no it's not okay.. shit," You choke up.

You wipe the saliva off of your mouth, presumably from spitting up during your episode.

You rock yourself back and forth, head still in your hands.

Wilson stayed quiet. He had no idea what to say, but you preferred that he didn't. You needed some silent time to gather your mind together.

"God.. fuck, I'm so sorry, James. You shouldn't have had to deal with that.." you exhale and apologize, afraid to even look at him.

"Y/n, don't- don't apologize,"

"You're not going to tell anyone are you? Please don't tell anyone, please, Wilson," You pleaded, tears welling up again at the thought of losing your job.

You didn't know that House had already known before. House had overheard you when you were speaking to Noah that one day, and then found out how much you were taking a day, earning your new nickname 'Ms. Addict'.

Him being the huge blabbermouth that he is, he obviously felt the need to tell Wilson. Wilson didn't know if he told him because he had some sort of worry for you, or if it was just him being an asshole, but by God was he glad that House told him.

"I won't tell, I promise." Wilson said as he wiped the tears away from your face, cupping it with his hand.

You melt into his touch and sigh.

"How.. how much Levetiracetam have you been taking..?" Wilson questioned.

You look at him in confusion, "What? What are you talking about?"

"Your meds.. how much of them are you taking?"

House.

"House- House told me, just earlier today," Wilson admitted hesitantly.

House!

“I’m gonna kill him!” You suddenly shout in a fit of sudden rage.

You get up only to fall once again, not just triggering your vertigo, but also making the previous dizziness you’d just had only mere minutes ago worsen.

You grab onto the nearest table to stable yourself, stumbling around as you try to pathetically attempt to speed walk.

 “L/n– L/n hold on just– Y/n!” Wilson says anxiously.

“Fuckin’ asshole, I’m gonna kill him.. How does he even know?” You grumble to yourself.

You stumbled around the workplace, bumping into things and nearly dodging others, looking like a lunatic disguised as a doctor, or to be more accurate; House.

“Y/n!” Wilson calls out to you, catching up to you far more quickly than you had been “speedwalking”.

He stops you, getting ahold of your left arm and goes in front of you, grabbing your other arm after successfully stopping you from even taking one more step.

“L/n, don’t. I know he’s an asshole but let's just go back to your office so we can sit you down, and then talk about this, okay?”

You were upset, and overwhelmed. He was right. You should go back to your office, sit down, have some water, and focus on Noah.

Noah..

You nod at him and turn around to make your way back to your office, one of his hands on your back and another out in case you fall.

He was so.. caring. You’ve never had someone care so much for you. You haven’t had that in years, you’d forgotten just how nice it was to be cared for, even if it were in upsetting circumstances such as now.

You smile to yourself as he helps you to your office chair, thanking him.

Wilson pulls up a stool in front of you, “L/n, are you okay?” He questions, taking your hands into his own, warm and calloused.

“Yeah, I guess I just freaked out a bit. I’m alright,”

“How much medicine have you been taking, L/n..” Wilson asks concerningly.

You sigh. You didn’t want to admit you had a bit of a.. problem with substances, specifically your prescribed ones. God, I really am House..

“Uh,” You look away from him. You were more than ashamed of yourself. There was a reason the drugs were controlled, because they were addictive..

It had gotten to the point where you depended on them too much. The Clobazam wasn’t even necessary, either.

“750 mg of Levetiracetam, 370 mg of Lamotrigine, and 50 mg of Clobazam.” You mutter.

“750 of Levetiracetam??”

“Yeah.. three times daily.”

Wilson sighs and lets his head fall low, muttering something to himself.

“L/n, you could overdose on just the Levetiracetam and Lamotrigine together twice, maybe even once! But you're mixing it with the Clobazam, too? Three times a day? Who’s prescribing you this much medicine?!” Wilson was genuinely concerned for you, he didn't mean to sound or come off as angry or upset, but that’s definitely what he sounded like.

"Myself," You looked at your hands, his were still holding yours.

"..I'm sorry but- I couldn't risk having an episode, especially not here. If- if anyone else found out I thought I might lose my job or- or my medical license, I can’t risk that, I- I worked so hard for this title, I can’t let it be taken away because of some stupid-” You started to get worked up and hysterical. So much build up just over the years of not telling anyone your worries, not even your parents or friends from home, all of it just spilt out in front of Wilson.

Wilson gets up and pulls you into a tight hug, stroking your hair as his chin rested on to of your head. “I won’t tell anyone, and I promise you, I absolutely promise you that you won’t lose your job if anyone else finds out,”

You tense up, but the sound of his heartbeat so close to your line of hearing made you relax into his arms, wrapping your own across his torso.

“I don’t know about you, but this is one of the first times that I’ve ever been happy that House is an asshole. I’m glad he told me. I’m glad you’re safe.” Wilson continued, holding you closer to him.

His overwhelming affection and concern began to make you tear up. He actually cared for you.

And though House would never admit it, so did he.

You began to cry into Wilson’s lab coat, still not letting go of him in fear that you would lose him forever if you did.

“I care for you, Y/n. I never want you to feel this way.”

He didn’t even care that you were dirtying his coat with your own tears and snot, he only cared for you at that moment.

“Oh, you finally found him. Did you find him in the bathroom touching himself like I said he was? Is that why you’re crying? Do you need a hug from me, too?” House says sarcastically as he barges into your office.

You take your face out of Wilson’s coat to scowl at House. “Fuck off, Greg..” You sniffle.

“House, it’s really not the time for your shit, and that’s a highly innaproppriate thing to say- wait, where did you get that from?” Wilson says, pulling away from you.

“I’ve heard you,” House ‘whispers’ very loudly.

House hobbles over to you and stares for a few seconds before ruffling your hair, making it messier than it already was before.

“Addict,”

“Says you, asshole,” You respond, trying to smooth out your hair for it to look decently.

“..Uh, how did you know? About my..” you continue.

“You have really gotta start being more quiet when you talk to your patients about stuff like that, it was hard not to hear you blabbering to that kid. Do you just do that with all of them? Pretty wreckless if you ask me,” House responds.

“And my medication?”

“You’re not as sneaky with it as you think. Maybe being more open about it would raise less flags. You just might actually be worse than I am, Ms. Addict.”

Wilson stood aside, watching the interaction between his best friends. They hated eachother, but cared for eachother at the same time. He smiled at the scene.

“Whatever,” You say as House leaves your office.

“You two are an interesting pair,” Wilson chuckles.

“He’s a child.” You roll your eyes and smile.

House pops back into your office, sticking only his head in through your doorway. “Druggie addict.” and he disappears once more.

“There’s my point being proven,”

“Oh, I never doubted you,”

You look up at Wilson, with him looking back down at you.

You took in his features for a good couple of moments, 

his thick brows were one of the most noticable features of his, in the best way possible in your opinion at least. You could never imagine him with what people would concider “normal proportioned” brows. They sat atop those puppy dog eyes that held a sort of tired softness to them, you could just get lost in them forever. A single section of hair seperated from his usual kept up hair, laying on top of his forehead. His smile. My god, his smile was so nice.

“What?” Wilson lets out a breathy laugh.

“Nothing, you just look nice today,” You reply back before getting up out of your chair in your best efforts, successfully making it back to Noah’s Radiographs.

“Thanks, you do, too,” He stood next to you at a closer proximity than before.

You and Wilson looked closely at Noah’s Radiographs for a few minutes before Wilson declared, “I don’t think you have to worry about these tumors too much, they look benign to me. We just need to remove them and Noah should be fine,”

You let out a sigh of relief. Noah was an amazing kid. You have no clue what you would do if you had to give news that he had something that could possibly be a cause of death. At least you found the reason for his.

You lay your head on Wilson’s shoulder and smile, “Thanks, James.”

He brings his hand up to grab your waist, pulling you closer to him and laying his head onto yours, “Thank you for letting me help out with him. He’s lucky to have you,”

“..though, I think I would be even luckier to have you, Y/n.” Wilson continues.

Wilson had always been good with his words when he wanted to. They always came out to be smooth, yet not too vulgar or forward. Thats exactly what it felt like now. It felt genuine, it felt like it actually came straight from the heart, and now you felt like yours was about to practically beat out of your chest.

“I think you would, I’m just special like that,” you giggle.

Wilson raises his head off of yours and looks at you, taking in how beautiful you looked before placing a small kiss to your head.

You grin, practically from ear to ear and lift your head off of his shoulder to press a kiss to his cheek, only for him to lift your chin up. You two were practically teasing each other, for as when you went to close the gap, he lifted you up and carried you to your office chair bridal style and sat down with you in his lap, now closing the gap himself as he spun around in the chair with you.

You smiled into the kiss and you could feel he was too.

This would be one of your most memorable days ever, in so many ways. Not only because of Noah, but because of this moment with James that you would never imagine would happen to you in a million years.

Its not to early to think to yourself or say, you love him.

You love James Wilson, and you would scream it from the top of your lungs so everyone else could be reminded of it.

You were in love with him, and he was in love with you.

[velaryqns]

Hii idk if you take requests but if you do could you write a fic where reader is married and pregnant with Wilson’s child and suddenly her water breaks in the middle of her work? This could be connected to the peds reader you did back then :) tysm <3

Mini Crown

Pairing: James Wilson x Reader

Notes: making this a sequel to “Glitter Crowns,” it seems quite fitting. So this is a head of peds reader!

Warnings: pregnancy, brief mentions of labor, House being House, brief mention of breastfeeding

You waddled walked around the clinic as quickly as you could, and that your husband would allow (lest he walked in and caught you walking at a rapid pace to help Cuddy in the clinic). You and James had already had a few disagreements about the idea of you working, but you told him you’d be fine for a few more weeks, it wouldn’t hurt the baby.

(You were wrong, at least the about you being fine part).

It was during lunch, you’d met with James while he flipped through the newspaper, picking at his meal sitting in mostly silence until you sat down across from him. He put his newspaper down and flashed his signature smile, taking your hand instantly.

“How are you two doing?”

“Fine as we can be,” you shrugged with a small smile and took a bite of one of your fries. You felt your husband’s eyes for a moment, but he accepted the answer and took a fry from you. You watched him for a moment, in a teasing way, and he only chuckled before he went back to his newspaper.

“Lizzie’s parents called,” he spoke.

Lizzie, the little girl you’d both helped when she was in the hospital under James’s care. After going through surgery, she was sent on her way. Even left you a small card.

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, sitting back in your chair at the slight twinge of pain in your back and going around your stomach. You ignored it though, bringing a hand to run along your belly as you smiled at him.

“They said she’s doing much better, and that she still wears that crown,” he chucked fondly at the memory of you doing crafts with his patience just over nine months back, an interaction that had encouraged the two of you to finally get a start at your family.

A few minutes passed of the two of you talking when you heard the familiar click of a cane on the floor.

“Aw look at the lovebirds,” House invited himself to the table, taking James’s newspaper and moving your food out of his way, but still managing to leave it within your grasp (he wasn’t that cruel).

“I’m trying to have lunch with my wife,” James protested, gesturing toward you with a frown; therefore missing the discomfort on your face.

“You live together,” House retorted, mocking James's gesture and admittedly making you chuckle softly. James playfully frowned in your direction, feigning anger at your "betrayal."

You chuckled at your husband’s face, then turned to House, “He’s not wrong, we’re trying to enjoy ourselves before the little one gets here.”

House looked unimpressed, and unable to take the hint given between both you and your husband. House began rambling, filled with his own complaints for the day. You stared at your food, more focused on the fresh fires and soothing the incessant pains you were feeling than paying attention to House.

“Honey?” James’s voice met your ears, filled with concern as he reached across the table, his warm palm covering your hand that was still resting on the table. He’d noticed the look on your face, and his brows furrowed as his large brown eyes scanned over your features, “Are you alright?”

Another wave of pain washed over you, and you flipped your hand over to take his in it, groaning slightly as you leaned in toward him and over your large stomach.

“You know, if you want me to leave you can just ask instead of faking contractions,” House looked over at you as he spoke, receiving a harsh glare from your husband as he stood to crouch next to you.

“Will you stop?” He muttered to the other doctor, then turned his attention to you, “Honey, come on. Let’s go…we can talk to Cuddy—“

“I’m fine,” you countered, shaking your head as you take a deep breath, “It’s early, Hon.”

“You knew it could happen any day,” James almost wanted to say ‘I told you so,’ but knew it would do nothing to help your situation. He instead placed a hand under your arm, letting you keep a hold of his other hand and helping you rise to your feet. His lips grazed your temple, and his voice was barely a whisper, “Come on…”

You breathed deeply, both you and your husband wanting to draw as little attention to yourselves as possible. But you were in the middle of a hospital, so you knew you could easily get help from someone else.

“Say bye-bye to sleep,” House called after the two of you, in a sing-songy way as he took your food and helped himself to what remained of the fries, his attention not leaving the newspaper as James guided you out of the cafeteria.

You didn’t even know how much time passed between your husband guiding you out of the cafeteria to your little boy being placed in your arms; the blue hospital cap sticking off of his head while James smiled down at your son from over your shoulder, his arm around your waist and rubbing up and down your side. He knew you were in pain, anyone with sense knew it.

You smiled at the little boy, his big brown eyes that matched his father’s looking back up at you. You hummed, dropping your head to James’s shoulder, “He’s so beautiful.”

“Just gotta hope he doesn’t look too much like his old man,” the sound of House’s voice almost made you jump. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. Your husband leveled a flare at the man, “What? I’m just bringing him his first cheap hospital teddy bear. We all know he’ll collect ‘em like crazy if he’s the child of you two.”

“House, I just gave birth, I’d like some time alone with my husband and son please,” you pleaded as House set the bear on the foot of your bed. You eyed it, then looked back up at him.

He held a hand up in surrender, “Fine, fine. Enjoy your time off.”

You rolled your eyes as he left. James chuckled and shook his head, then kissed your cheek, “You should get some sleep — I’ve got him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes honey, I’m sure,” he gently took your son and allowed you to lay down. You fell asleep faster than you ever had before.

A few weeks had passed, you were still at home with the new baby, but James had returned to work for certain visits with patients. One of them being Lizzie. She’d been excited about the idea of seeing you, bringing in her crown and asking if it was possible to do a craft. James was sad to tell her that you weren’t at the hospital at the present time, but he was glad to explain why. There was nothing as exciting to him as being a new father, not anymore.

The girl was glum, but she understood, and her parents congratulated him on the new phase in life. It was a couple of days later, when someone from the oncology team dropped off an envelope on his desk. He recognized the last name, it was Lizzie’s. He was curious as he unfolded the envelope, seeing inside that there was a small paper crown, similar to the one you made with your patients and that Lizzie had been carrying around.

He smiled at it, noticing that it was much smaller than the ones you and the children you worked with made. A chuckle passed through his lips and he noticed a note as well, but left it be for you to read when he returned home, which wasn’t too much further away.

The apartment was quiet when he stepped inside, minus the faint noises of the television and you humming. James toed off his shoes and followed the sound of your hums into the kitchen. You were doing dishes, the baby monitor clipped to the waistband of your sweatpants and a tank top (the easiest for you to wear as a new breastfeeding mother) that was covered in a few stains. His McGill sweater was thrown over the back of a chair, you must have worn it at some point in the day.

“Having fun?” You turned at the sound of his voice, and the corner of your mouth turned up as you shut the sink off.

“I just put him down a little bit ago,” you informed James, smiling proudly as you quickly (but quietly) walked in his direction. Your arms slung around his neck instinctively and one of his hands found your hip, squeezing gently as the two of you kissed. You hummed, smiling up at him, “Welcome home.”

“I’ve got something for you,” he lifted his briefcase as emphasis.

“I’ve got my own one of those,” you reminded him teasingly, then got yourself a glass of water as he pulled an envelope out of the briefcase.

As your husband slid it across the table, you could see that it had already been opened, likely by him. You set your cup down as you looked at him curiously, silently questioning what brought this on. When you opened the envelope, a small sob passed through your lips and you reached inside to pull out the small crown.

“Oh my God it’s so cute,” you crooned, eyes wide as you turned it over, unflattening the item so it could sit properly. James smiled at your excitement as you took in its size and then looked in the envelope once more, your eyes locking on Lizzie’s letter. You looked up at your husband, eyes big and wet with tears as realization dawned on you, “Oh my goodness.”

Your husband chuckled, walking over to you and wrapping an around your waist as you pulled out the letter, the both of you reading it together.

Dear Doctors Wilson and Wilson,

Lizzie is insistent that we write to you for her, we’ve tried to tell her that it isn’t necessary, but she really does like you pair. We hope the gift alongside this has reached you and your little one without any damage, and we send the biggest congratulations ever! We’re so grateful for what the both of you did for our little girl, and you deserve this step in life!

Again, congratulations!

You had tears running down your cheeks when James looked up at you again, and he chucked as he gently wiped them away, then kissed your lips, “You’re an amazing doctor honey, and you’re a great mother. Our little man is so lucky to have you, so am I, and all of your patients.”

“Don’t get me to soppy,” you chuckled at him, sniffling and waving a hand back and forth in front of your face. He chuckled, looking down when soft cries echoed through the monitor. Before you could act he snatched the device from your waist.

“I got him, go rest, I’ll be back in a minute,”

You nodded, still holding the letter in your hands as James took the small paper crown. He made his way to the source of the cries, smiling down at the baby as he lifted him in his arms and brought him against his chest.

“Hello,” he said softly, glad to finally be holding his son after a long day. He bounced him up and down as he walked over to a shelf in the corner of the room, photos of you and James lining it, as well as the day your son was born. A picture of him and House (which House tried to bribe you into getting rid off) also decorated the shelf.

James tucked the crown next to a photo of you and your little boy, taken by James when you first your son into the nursery, “There…your amazing mommy had that sent by a patient, a nice little girl.”

James hummed as he looked back down at the baby in his arms, who peered at his father in slight curiosity. It was like looking into a mirror, if the mirror only reflected one’s eyes. James smiled as he looked at your miniature, with the exceptions of James’s eyes. He smiled, “I’m sure you’ll be making your own paper crowns in no time, hm?”

Author’s Note: hi hi! I hope you enjoyed, I did find it super cute to write. Don’t be afraid to send more requests ( I’d personally love some Foreman ones ngl )

[zvdvdlvr]

Could you pretty please write an imagine being house s/o, only Wilson knows, either being under him in his team or in a different department. You guys have a kid together and get called from her preschool or babysitter and end up having to bring her to work with you and the kid exposes you?

As well as just some dad house

surprise? ✩ gregory house

You had the situation under control until Greg had decided to teach his little ducklings a lesson in thievery. To be more specific, Greg had shown up to Cuddy’s office- hoping to ‘borrow’ some classified documents about the patient Cuddy had forced them to treat- while you were in there- trying to convince Aunt Lisa to babysit for a few hours.

The first two hours had been fine with Clementine, but nearing the end of the third hour you had realized how hungry she had gotten. Clementine had been relatively quiet: playing with her dolls and practicing her spelling words for school and such, but she was slowly getting bored.

Being the head of radiology meant that you were constantly discussing and interacting with patients, staff, or other important individuals. So far, the first five patients you’ve spoken with hadn’t minded Clementine’s quiet chatter or when she tried to strike up a conversation with them. But that didn’t mean you felt comfortable with your own baby girl while you weren’t giving her your full attention.

And of course the moment you decide to see if Cuddy could take some time to watch Clem, Greg emerges.

“Lisa, please. Just thirty-“

“Daddy!” Clementine squeals, point and squirming around in your hold. “Mama! Look, it’s daddy! Hi daddy!”

You turn, expecting to see your husband alone. Instead of one person, you lock eyes with a beyond shocked Cameron, Chase, and Eric. Greg smiles awkwardly at you, trying to ignore the stares of his lackeys. “I have a meeting soon. Take Clem, Greg. Make sure she eats,” you continue on casually, letting Clementine clint happily to her dad. You thrn to Cuddy and then at Celementine again.

“Make sure to keep an eye on daddy, okay my little love?” You coo. Clementine smiles brightly at you.

“Okay, mama.”

“Don’t lose her,” you tell your husband dryly before patting him on the shoulder and walking out the door.

The three ducklings exchanged glances. In front of them, Clementine pokes Greg’s cheeks after inflated like a balloon. “I’m- I’m going to run another blood culture and make sure his calcium levels are normal,” Chase bullshits, fumbling for an excuse to leave.

“Say bye-bye to the blonde man, Clementine,” Greg tells his daughter.

Chase doesn’t know how to feel when his boss’s daughter waves her chubby little hand and says “bye-bye, blonde man”.

🫀- bonus:

When you swing by Greg’s office after work, you feel a smile pull at your tired lips. On Greg’s chair, your husband has his legs kicked up comfortably on the foot rest. Clementine sleeps silently on him with Greg’s arm wrapped protectively around her little back to prevent her from falling. The soothing chords of the piani drift from Greg’s record player, and you already regret having to wake up the two loves of your life.

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

House: I just ended a four year relationship.

Cuddy: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

House: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship.

*Wilson and Y/N fighting from across the room*

[crossingthedreams]

medication — gregory house x f!reader

a/n: posting this late, as always, for @angstober day 06 — medication. this is inspired by a real life scenario that happened with someone I know. please, if you’re suffering through any sort of violence, reach the authorities. I am not, nor will ever be, specialized help, but I am available to listen in my dm’s should anyone need to vent. always, always, always put your safety and well being first. 

summary: you meet your former lover once more, but in the worst possible scenario. 

word count: 584

warnings: domestic violence. angst. horrible relationship dynamics. mentions of family death. abortion. mentions of past relationships. reader is injured. 

TRIGGER WARNING. Domestic violence. Abortion. Please proceed with care. 

“You should leave him”.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the man at the door. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on the medication falling in small drops from the transparent package into your veins. 

Hospital rooms had such a surreal vibe to them. Nothing seemed real, as if the words you uttered in there weren’t important and would have no impact on your actual day-to-day life. 

It was why you brought yourself to say, still not taking your eyes from the clear medication. “I wish I could”. 

You heard his steps approaching, hitting the floor rhythmically with his cane. 

His staff must have been so confused when he decided to be the attending doctor on your case. It was almost funny imagining the reactions, even though you never met the three young doctors working under his wing. 

You weren’t a mystery, and your case was just boring. You fell down the stairs and broke a couple of ribs, and got a black eye in the process. Nothing much, right? 

Wrong. And Gregory House saw right through you. 

He knew very well you didn’t fall, and he knew that black eye was a result of a very specific injury. 

In all the years he’d known your family, he never would have imagined you would lie for a man who was hurting you. 

The thing is, he didn’t know the whole story. The nuances, the finances. The reasons why you couldn’t just get up and leave. You didn’t deserve to leave.

You turned your face towards him. He was close enough now, so much so you could see the specks of light green in the baby blue of his eyes. He put a folder carefully on the movable table in front of you, and seemed to ponder on what to say next. 

You didn’t want to hear it. “There’s a lot of strings attached”, you simply said, hoping this would end the matter once and for all. “You knew my father and you are a smart guy, you can figure it out”.

“You’re pregnant.”

“No, I’m not.”

He tilted his head. “Sorry, who is the doctor here again?”

You shook your head, as if the motion itself could stop reality. Your eyes filled with tears, but you didn’t want to cry. Not here, not in front of him.

“You don’t have to go through with this. And I mean both the pregnancy and whatever hell you are living back home”, he said in the sweetest way he knew how. He took a small bottle from his coat and held it out in front of you. “Take one pill, and he’ll never know. Doctor-patient confidentiality”.

You smiled a little, mostly because of his tone. House never tried to be funny, but at least he was trying to lighten the mood.

“Your father was a terrible man, and I hated him almost as much as he hated me. Of course, he didn’t sleep with my daughter, so there’s that”.

You rolled your eyes, which hurt due to the bruises. But still, the small smile lingered. House brought up the torrid affair you two shared before your father passed very rarely, and never without a motive.

“You should leave him, kid”, he repeated. Your smile faded, and your face showed only pain. “If you ever need anything, you have my number, my work address and my home address. Call me”. 

He left the bottle of medication on the table before leaving. Confidently for once, you took it.