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ENOUGH WITH THE PROTEIN MARKETING! PROTEIN POPCORN THIS PROTEIN WATER THAT NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS 50G OF PROTEIN OK. WHERE IS THE FIBER. WHERE IS IT. WHERE IS IT?????
warnings: same as part 1 i guess? mentions of shitty childhood
summary: after you get drugged at the bar, house decides to listen instead of pushing you away.
"everything hurts..." you grumbled to the doctor at your bedside. how you even ended up in the hospital was a mystery. one moment, you're partying it up at the bar. the next? you're laying helplessly in an uncomfortable hospital cot; it's far too tough to be considered a mattress.
"yeah, with the way you were moving a few hours ago, I bet everything does hurt."
the harsh contrast from the neon strobe lights of the club to the white fluorescent lights of the hospital hit you like a truck as you slowly opened your eyes. "h-house...?"
house sat in a visitor's chair, reading a novel. he now sported a band t-shirt and sweatpants, something you don't recall him wearing the night before. "that's my name." he took his readers off, laying them carefully on top of his book in the other visitor's chair. "you got roofied; some douchebag with a korn shirt and daddy issues decided he wanted you all to himself. you, on the other hand, could barely stand up straight...drove like a bat out of hell to get you back here after you passed out."
you took a shaky breath. "i was...drugged?" you met house's eyes, full of an emotion you couldn't place. you looked down at your lap, several emotions running through you at once. the first one to surface was anger. "god i'm such an idiot! someone spiked my drink and i was too drunk off my ass to notice-i..."
your sentence trailed off as that familiar lump began to form in your throat. you couldn't help but break down completely. tears soaked your face as you buried your head in your hands. you didn't even hear house's uneven footsteps as he walked briskly across the room, only noticing he had moved when his voice beckoned you to look at him. you blinked away the tears forming for a moment as he came back into view; his normally piercing eyes appeared softer, his face not so sharp around the edges.
"look at me. this is not your fault. got it?"
your lip quivered, tears threatening to spill once more. "b-but-i-"
house interrupted your babbling. "no. no buts. you went to have fun, not to get attacked by some weirdo who can't take 'no' for an answer. you understand?"
you nodded slowly. "y-yeah. you're right." you wiped the tears from your cheeks with the sleeve of your hospital gown. "i just have so much pressure to-to be the 'good one'. my sister was...well, the wild child; always sneaking out, doing drugs. i never did any of that stuff. my parents were so frustrated in dealing with her that they just...took it all out on me. somehow, despite being on top of me constantly, they didn't know one thing about me. it was never enough."
house didn't say anything in return. no snarky remark, no witty comeback. he decided to listen for once.
you continued. "when i got into this program, i was so excited to get into something different. something where my decisions actually mattered, where i would be appreciated for my work, and-" you stopped to catch your breath. "i just want to thank you. from the bottom of my heart: thank you."
house looked at you sincerely. "you're welcome." he opened his mouth as if to say something more, but decided against it.
he stood from his chair, gathering his belongings from the other side of the room. "i'll leave you alone to get some rest for the night. you need anything, you call me. got it?"
you nodded, shutting your eyes once again.
"and hey-"
you opened your eyes just as fast as you closed them.
"-no work until monday morning. doctor's orders."
you chuckled lightly as he gently slid the door shut. you closed your eyes for a second time, drifting off to the rhythmic sound of house's cane heading down the hall.
-
you reported back to work after a restful weekend, fully prepared for house's usual antics. you entered the conference room as you always did; hair pulled back neatly into a bun, glasses on, clipboard in hand. a pen rested on the hem of the pocket of your lab coat, at the ready for any necessary note taking.
you continued into the room to notice everyone was missing. everyone except house, of course.
the man sat in one of the office chairs, flipping through a patient file in front of him. unlike most other days, he seemed happier; no angry scowl on his face, no tension in his eyes. he was simply calm for once. two mugs of coffee occupied the remaining space around him.
you leaned against the doorway. "care to tell me where everyone else is?"
house didn't look up from the file. "running tests on our lovely patient; 24 year old man develops a severe headache along with muscle weakness and memory loss. oh, and he's hallucinating that i'm trying to kill him."
you make your way to the table, sitting next to the head of diagnostics. "damn, I just missed the differential," you mutter. "I'm sorry, my mind-it's been all over the place lately."
house finally looked up from the file to look at you properly. it seems the two-day break he gave you wasn't nearly enough. despite your usual cleaned up appearance, he saw right through the facade; the dark circles beneath your eyes barely masked with layers of concealer, the normal spark in your eyes now dimmed slightly. he knew everything from that fateful evening out was still tugging at your nervous system.
"and that's why I'm putting you on a different case. coffee's yours, by the way." he lightly nudged the faded hospital mug towards you.
your eyebrows furrowed at his words. "house, I'm fully capable of working. I can't just stay in the past forever. I need to move on."
house took a sip of his own coffee. "don't think you'd want this one. patient also suffers from fred durst wannabe syndrome and refuses taking 'no' for a final answer."
your eyes widened. "no fucking way."
house raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "yeah. not letting him touch you with a ten-foot pole." his jaw tightened eevr-so-slightly.
a moment of silence passed, neither of you having anything to say. house spoke first.
"you remember what you told me on the ride here? y'know, after you knocked yourself out."
you shook your head. a blush crept up onto your cheeks; what kind of crazy shit did you say now?
house took a breath. "you told me...that you loved me."
you felt your heart drop into your stomach as your face became suddenly devoid of color.
"now, from personal experience, I know that drunk words tend to be sober thoughts. but...what's there to love about me?" he questioned, looking into your eyes so intensely that it made your stomach churn.
"I'm a miserable drug addict that finds pleasure in breaking all the rules I possibly can, not to mention I'm double your age. so, the question remains. why me?"
you stumbled over yourself to keep your composure. "well-I...I like those things about you. I like your confidence. I like how you go out of your way to figure out what's wrong with someone. you'll cheat, lie, and steal, all for the bigger picture. you act like you couldn't care less about someone's life, but I see behind your mask. you care, house. and most importantly, you care about me. when no one else has."
house smirked at you, a smirk that turned into a rare, true smile. "someone didn't deny it."
a beat of silence passed once again. and once again, house broke that silence.
he stood up, walking toward the door. "so...I accuse you, in my apartment, this friday, with the candlestick. promise I won't spike your drink."
you gave a light chuckle. "sure, I'd love that."
house tapped his free hand against his imaginary watch. "looks like it's time for a breakfast run. care to come help a disabled man grab his egg and cheese biscuit?"
you rolled your eyes, standing from the table. "whatever you say, old man."
he jokingly punched your arm as you accompanied him down the hallway. "hey...not old enough for you, apparently."
maybe medical procedurals are different now but I don't think Dr. Gregory House would, under any circumstances, cooperate with ICE. he'd probably leave out banana peels for them to slip on and trip them with his cane that has flames painted on it.
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I think it's a sign of good media when you have to reread or rewatch it to get the full experience. First time is for getting your brain blasted by the story and being confused second time is for knowing who's who and what's what and willingly getting your brain blasted again.
I hate... fanon archetypes. You know how people sand down their blorbos to fit into the same handful of incorrect quote templates and then they forget their actual canon personalities because they've gone too long without engaging with the source material? I hate it. I hate it. He would not fucking say that. The joke was slightly funny when it was on the office or whatever but we've all heard it over and over with different characters pasted into it how are you still laughing please let me out
The funny character has no other personality traits. Also he's incompetent now. The one who's kind of prickly is just weirdly mean OR sad and did nothing wrong, take your pick. Gotta have the Sunshine Boy. Woman 1 is yass slay badass. Woman 2 is the rest of the cast's Mother. If there's only one woman, she can be both. Do you want to kill yourself yet
I didn't say a fandom but you thought of one, didn't you? That's because they all do this. All of them. You search the main tags for the media of your choice and you will find them there. The same incorrect quotes you've been hearing for years. It's like a time loop. It's my own personal torment nexus
you know a joke that never EVER gets old is when a character says smth like “I will NOT go to [place] and that is FINAL” and then it cuts to them in that place I eat that shit up every single time
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If someone in "the roving gang of masked goons who disappear people into concentration camps with no accountability and uniforms with no ID that you can easily spoof on Amazon" are asking me to leave the safety of my car so they can have total control over me and my person, I'm at the very least hesitating.
Also ICE has no jurisdiction over US citizens, none of us have to listen to diddly shit from them, legally. Most conservatives are just so used to submitting to the will of whatever authority figure around them that their daddy figure of the day told them to.
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Yeah Dr House would probably call me a slur and ransack my house without my permission and interrogate me and I’ll probably be put on 20 different medications in the span of six hours but Dr House would also believe that I’m genuinely in pain
So yeah you can ransack my house dawg, atleast you’re not writing me off as a druggie needing a fix. You can call me whatever slur you want too because this is the most a healthcare provider has ever believed me
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