Part 3
I know I've been gone for an obsecenely long time. But I'm still getting the odd review turning up in my inbox which doesn't let me forget. And an unfinished story is like a splinter in the mind until corrected. So this is me, if not getting back on the horse, then at least giving it a good brush-down and saddling it up.
House idly watched the walking bars, mind briefly focusing on his regular breathing.
Staring. Staring and breathing. The all consuming actions, as thought freewheeled through past occurrences. Absently, his cane passed back and forth between his hands, the movement completely unconscious now. His hands knew the shape, the weight, the balance of the cane, down to a tee. It was part of him.
House, the cripple. He was irrevocably branded as such now. He could rage against the world, against circumstances, but the one person he couldn't hide any truth from was himself. Because the truth was, he hated himself. He hated what he had become.
The air conditioning in the physiotherapy room blew down the back of his collar and caused a brief shiver to pass through him. It was cold in here, sitting still. He refocused his eyes from nothingness as the door clicked quietly open and shut.
'I thought you'd forgotten where this place was,' a warm voice said, gently mocking. Wilson moved over to sit next to him, on one of the chairs that lined the wall.
'Of course not. It's the best hiding place in the whole hospital.'
'Ah,' replied Wilson, amused. 'Not a place for exercise and rehabilitation then?'
House scowled slightly, eyeing the parallel bars that had haunted his dreams in the months after his infarction. 'Rehabilitation implies that improvement will occur.' He said simply.
Wilson let out a small sigh, and there were a few minutes of silence. Finally he stood. 'I'm going to go and get some lunch. Coming?'
House glanced up at him briefly, looking at him for the first time since he had entered the room. Looking back down at the cane in his hands, he shook his head once.
There was another sigh, and Wilson left without argument. House began to pass the cane backwards and forwards again. Staring.
The End