Fic: Thaw
Obligatory post-finale fic.
Title: Thaw
Fandom: House, M.D
Character(s): Cuddy, Wilson, House
Rating: PG
Summary: She fires him, then, her heart an ice sculpture: ornate and perfectly carved.
A/N: For the![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
housefic50 prompt: #18 Consequences, 500 words. Set during and after 5.24, Both Sides Now.
cold is made of beauty and fear
and thaw is made of aching.
- Sarah Gordon
+
She fires him, then, her heart an ice sculpture: ornate and perfectly carved. Ice, in her limbs, her throat, choking, banishing her words. Ice, in her very blood.
In case of frost bite, the skin falls below the freezing point. Ice crystals form within the live cells of the skin, killing cells, damaging tissue. Cuddy remembers this from her old text books; remembers that, very often, amputation is the only solution.
+
Her palm is cold when she touches his feverwarm cheek.
+
'The hallucinations. They're getting worse.'
There's swift comprehension in Wilson's face. Too swift, as he says, 'What else did you see?', drawing nearer to the couch where House is sitting, huddled up, as though for warmth.
'Things,' House mutters. 'I can't… What's real and what's not. I couldn't tell.'
'Does that mean—' His words freeze. He glances at her, swift (too swift), and then back at House again. 'Oh.'
There goes the light bulb, House does not say, does not say anything at all. When she places her hand upon his knee, House shrinks away from her touch.
'I'll talk to the rehab facility.'
'No,' House shakes his head. 'It won't work.'
'There's Mayfield,' Wilson says slowly. 'I can make a call.'
What else and rehab and the hallucinations: the words echo in her head, coalesce and thicken. Cuddy can't breathe, ice where her lungs once were.
+
'When did he first tell you?' she might ask Wilson later.
'The night before,' he might say, weary, and Cuddy might reach out and take his hand.
Now, in his car, he is pale, distant, half-dissolved around the edges. It has started to rain in earnest.
You should have told me, she wants to say, but House is beside him, tracing shapes with his fingers on the fogged up glass.
'I'll drive him home,' Wilson says, over the roar of the car's engine.
'I'll see to the paperwork,' Cuddy nods.
She stands in the rain till it gets too cold. The wind tastes bitter on her cheek.
+
There are eyes following her wherever she goes, voices and whispers behind her back. She locks herself in her office and comforts herself with her work.
Everybody knows this is going somewhere.
Her heart could break, shatter into a thousand glass pieces.
+
She arrives late.
It's an outdoor wedding, and she's glad for the breeze, a cool caress on her neck and her spine. Rachel settles comfortably on her lap and begins to gnaw on her tiny fingers.
On her way to the ceremony, Wilson called: 'We're heading out now.'
'Drive safely,' she said.
Not so long ago, she'd told him the same thing, smiling a little at House's figure on the passenger's seat.
The guests stand up and begin to applaud. Cuddy stands a little apart, Rachel a warm weight in her arms.
The newlyweds beam at the crowd. Cameron smiles and waves, resplendent in her white gown.
The tears are sudden, searing against her cold cheek.
+
Title: Thaw
Fandom: House, M.D
Character(s): Cuddy, Wilson, House
Rating: PG
Summary: She fires him, then, her heart an ice sculpture: ornate and perfectly carved.
A/N: For the
housefic50 prompt: #18 Consequences, 500 words. Set during and after 5.24, Both Sides Now.cold is made of beauty and fear
and thaw is made of aching.
- Sarah Gordon
+
She fires him, then, her heart an ice sculpture: ornate and perfectly carved. Ice, in her limbs, her throat, choking, banishing her words. Ice, in her very blood.
In case of frost bite, the skin falls below the freezing point. Ice crystals form within the live cells of the skin, killing cells, damaging tissue. Cuddy remembers this from her old text books; remembers that, very often, amputation is the only solution.
+
Her palm is cold when she touches his feverwarm cheek.
+
'The hallucinations. They're getting worse.'
There's swift comprehension in Wilson's face. Too swift, as he says, 'What else did you see?', drawing nearer to the couch where House is sitting, huddled up, as though for warmth.
'Things,' House mutters. 'I can't… What's real and what's not. I couldn't tell.'
'Does that mean—' His words freeze. He glances at her, swift (too swift), and then back at House again. 'Oh.'
There goes the light bulb, House does not say, does not say anything at all. When she places her hand upon his knee, House shrinks away from her touch.
'I'll talk to the rehab facility.'
'No,' House shakes his head. 'It won't work.'
'There's Mayfield,' Wilson says slowly. 'I can make a call.'
What else and rehab and the hallucinations: the words echo in her head, coalesce and thicken. Cuddy can't breathe, ice where her lungs once were.
+
'When did he first tell you?' she might ask Wilson later.
'The night before,' he might say, weary, and Cuddy might reach out and take his hand.
Now, in his car, he is pale, distant, half-dissolved around the edges. It has started to rain in earnest.
You should have told me, she wants to say, but House is beside him, tracing shapes with his fingers on the fogged up glass.
'I'll drive him home,' Wilson says, over the roar of the car's engine.
'I'll see to the paperwork,' Cuddy nods.
She stands in the rain till it gets too cold. The wind tastes bitter on her cheek.
+
There are eyes following her wherever she goes, voices and whispers behind her back. She locks herself in her office and comforts herself with her work.
Everybody knows this is going somewhere.
Her heart could break, shatter into a thousand glass pieces.
+
She arrives late.
It's an outdoor wedding, and she's glad for the breeze, a cool caress on her neck and her spine. Rachel settles comfortably on her lap and begins to gnaw on her tiny fingers.
On her way to the ceremony, Wilson called: 'We're heading out now.'
'Drive safely,' she said.
Not so long ago, she'd told him the same thing, smiling a little at House's figure on the passenger's seat.
The guests stand up and begin to applaud. Cuddy stands a little apart, Rachel a warm weight in her arms.
The newlyweds beam at the crowd. Cameron smiles and waves, resplendent in her white gown.
The tears are sudden, searing against her cold cheek.
+