Bathwater
By Clarity Scifiroots
Disclaimers apply.
lightly implied House/Wilson
Teen
Spoilers:
One Day, One Room
Summary: House
can’t always ignore the past.
May!fic 27 of 31
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“His temperature keeps rising!” Cameron argues, eyes wide with disbelief.
“The antibiotics obviously aren’t doing anything,” Chase adds.
Foreman’s face is set with determination. He’s already at the door when he says, “We’re moving him into an ice bath.”
Cameron and Chase glance between House’s rigid form and Foreman’s retreating back. Without a sound, Chase hurries out the door. Cameron waits a moment, mutters an apology, and rushes after her colleagues. House doesn’t look after them. He clenches his jaw tight enough that his teeth begin to ache.
He stands motionless in the conference room, right hand wrapped around his cane, eyes fixed in a sightless stare. Every muscle thrums with tension, but he hardly recognizes the present aches and pains.
- * -
“I’m not letting you
become an embarrassment. Did you think that little prank was funny? You’re
lucky your mother figured it out before our guests arrived. You’re getting off
easy this time. Next time you do this I’ll make sure you can’t sit for a week,
understand me?”
Squatting next to the back steps with his arms wrapped around his legs, Greg whispers, “Yes, Sir.” He can’t suppress the shudders wracking his body. It’s a late fall night with the nip of winter in the wind. He hadn’t had time to dry off after the bath; barely had time to tug on shirt and pants and a pair of shoes. He isn’t wearing socks or underwear, but worst of all in the lack of sweater or jacket. He knows better than to ask for one. He grimaces as the screen door slams shut, followed by the inside door and the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place.
---
The water is already
bitterly cold. The addition of ice cubes make the water lap at his numbing
skin, splashing against his calves and hips and back. He curls forward and
tries hard not to shake. He does his best to hold back the tears but he isn’t
so successful with hiding the hitch in his breathing.
“For Christ’s sake, boy!
You’re not a baby.”
The next fall of ice
cubes drop directly over his hunched form and he whimpers as they slide over
his shoulders and back. His feet and butt have gone completely numb. He wonders
if it’s possible to get frostbite even if it isn’t winter. He thinks his feet
aren’t the only part of his body turning an unnatural color. He’s terrified.
---
“C’mon,
Greg! We’ve got a fort and
everything! We’re gonna win,” Vince says as he packs the snow in his gloved
hands into a ball.
Greg eyes him warily
and tucks his hands more snugly under his armpits. Even dressed in full winter
gear with mittens, scarf, hat, boots, and warm jacket, he can feel the cold
seeping into his bones. He wishes he could figure out a way to always skip
going outside during break. He hates the
winter, even though he finds the snow beautiful as it drifts to the ground and
it means holiday gifts. He loathes the cold and wishes they were living in a
warm country again. He promises himself that when he grows up he’ll live
someplace warm or have a second house near the equator where he can hide out
during the winter.
---
Greg holds his shirt
in front of his groin in mortification when Robbie stumbles off as fast as he
can, water casting off behind him as he hightails it
out of there.
“What the hell were you
doing?”
Greg clutches the
shirt with one hand and holds his pants up with the other as water continues
blasting at him from the hose pointedly directed at his pelvis. The water
dripping over his forehead catches on his eyelashes and makes it hard to see.
Then again, he realizes that he probably doesn’t want to see the expression on
the man’s face.
“Answer me, Gregory.”
He’s older now, but
still feels like a little boy when past memories pour over him with the newest
bout of freezing water.
“Are you a faggot? You’re
letting some lowlife fag ‘friends’ corrupt you? Hell if my son’s a damn queer.”
Hard to be sexual, he thinks ironically, if his penis has to shrivel so close to his body to maintain some semblance of heat.
- * -
“Hey, Greg?”
House jerks away from the hand that suddenly lands on his
shoulder. He has his cane raised before he recognizes where he is and that
With an irritated snort, House turns to the counter and limps heavily toward the coffee pot. Hopefully it’s still fresh.
“Are you alright?”
House moves his arm to a safe distance and glares at the other man. “I’d just like to get some coffee,” he snaps.
“Ah, okay, okay.”
“Seriously, what’s going on?”
House spits out a mouthful of coffee and dumps the contents
of his mug and the entire pot down the sink. He continues to ignore
He smirks. “Something you want to say, Jimmy?”
“You help plenty,” House replies. He turns and limps toward his office. “I let you give me the ‘goodbye pain’ pills.”
“Oh yes, because that’s turning out so well,”
A shiver runs down House’s spine as he walks to his desk and sits down. He shivers again and his fingers and toes tingle in response. “Is it cold in here?” he asks without thinking.
“Did you take something?”
House lips tighten, and he shakes his head.
“Didn’t disagree,” he mutters, glaring at the fingers that betrayed him.
“Well, you must have protested about something. Foreman did
not look happy,”
“Foreman’s always cranky, unless he wakes up in bed with a gorgeous woman.” House snorts. “Patient’s fever was rising.”
They sit in silence for a few moments.
At some point Wilson gets up and brings a chair around the corner of the desk. House turns on the TV and slouches back to watch the current soap – something he only catches on occasion. They don’t speak but House isn’t shivering anymore. He actually feels a little numb.
During a commercial break
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