The Fall of XIII
A House Fanfic.
It's a dark road
And a dark way that leads to my house
And the word says
You're never gonna find me there oh no
I've got an open door
It didn't get there by itself
It didn't get there by itself
.
Her hands were shaking.
Again.
And she was so frustrated because for the third day in a row she couldn't even make a fucking sandwich.
She tilted her head down to wipe the sweat off her brow, but instead her arm gave an awkward jerk and pulled on the muscles in her neck. Immediate pain flared up from the tenderness. It would be another chiropractor visit to get that straightened out.
She threw the knife into the sink.
She had once had the steady hands of a surgeon, although that hadn't been her field of interest. Once upon a time she could draw a perfect circle on a piece of paper without having to focus and hope her hand wouldn't move.
Sometimes she would start twitching in the middle of the supermarket. One mother had whispered to her child that she had Tourette's. But that wasn't right, was it.
Sometimes she couldn't even hand over her debit card in order to pay. Once she had flung it towards the front doors of the store.
She was getting tired of apologizing for something she couldn't control.
There had been other drug trials, but after the epic fail of the first she had been insistent on never doing another.
Her dad tried to call her almost every other day. She was waiting for the day when he gave up.
Sometimes she would clean her apartment. But other times, when she could barely keep her arms from shaking, it was all she could do to force herself out of bed for another day of misery.
.
There's a feeling
But you're not feeling it at all
There's a meaning
But you're not listening any more
I look at that open road
I'm gonna walk there by myself
.
He helped.
Surprisingly Chase had taken her new symptoms in stride. She could no longer work, but sometimes he would discuss a case with her, just to keep her mind fresh.
Sometimes she would spend ten minutes looking out the bedroom window before she realized what she was doing. She also had a nervous tick of tapping her fingers on a counter top. She had done her best to stop that one since she had chipped one of the diamonds in her ring.
She was older than her mother had been at this stage of the disease, but that wasn't entirely comforting since she knew it would still progress faster than normal Huntington's.
Children were out of the question. She hadn't wanted to saddle Chase with the same burden her own father had been left with. He said he understood.
What he hadn't understood was why she was going to let House end her life.
"Because he understands the misery. He understands the endless cycle of pain and no control."
He said he would try to understand, but didn't know why he couldn't be the one.
She had smiled at him, but didn't have the heart to explain. She would never want to leave the man she loved with the guilt. He would live with it the rest of his life. House wouldn't.
Sometimes she got bored at home. If it was a good day she might go for a run in the park, or volunteer at the shelter, or even step back into Princeton-Plainsboro, just to reminisce.
Wilson always wanted to have lunch with her when she stopped by.
Sometimes she accepted.
Most days she stayed in and tried to keep everything functioning. There were a few therapy exercises she could do to increase muscle strength, but eventually even those would be useful.
She lost a part of herself every day. Today it was her hands.
Her mother used to play piano before the illness got bad. She had never bothered learning.
Little things took forever to accomplish when you couldn't control every body movement. Some days it was hard to walk. Some days she didn't get out of bed.
There had been a few days where she was convinced she was losing the ability to breathe on her own. Chase had assured her this was not the case.
.
And if you catch me
I might try to run away
You know I can't be here too long
And if you let me
I might try to make you stay
Seems you never realize a good thing
Till it's gone...
Maybe I'm still searching
But I don't know what it means
All the fires of destruction are still
Burning in my dreams
There's no water that can wash away
This longing to come clean
.
Whenever Chase worked late into the night she would consider going to a bar. If it was a good night she might get as far as putting on makeup and heels before stopping at the door. Some nights she would actually make it to the nearest pub. She might order a drink and blink flirty looks at the women around her.
Some nights she would convince herself that she would go home with one. The days of constant frustration spilled out into the nightlife. She wanted to be free. To be wild and uninhibited like she had once been. She wanted to take someone home and fuck them senseless. She wanted to drink until she could no longer feel herself.
But then Chase would call and remind her of her life and her commitments. And she would come crawling home and into bed with him.
He truly was a caring man and very patient with her. Perhaps too patient. There were occasions where he treated her with kid gloves and she would hate him for it. They would yell and scream and she would throw things. She could hate him for days.
But they always came back.
She had once confided in him that when it came near the end for her, she would want him to find someone else and he has laughed it off. But she waiting for the day when she came home and he was gone.
Who could honestly be sane enough to put up with a terminal time bomb? The more unsatisfied she became, the more volatile she became. Chase was lucky that the disease didn't allow her very good aim.
All he could give her were loving words and encouragement. But they both knew nothing would help. She was eventually going to be bedridden and die.
.
I can't find the joy within my soul
It's just sadness taking hold
I wanna come in from the cold
And make myself renewed again
It takes strength to live this way
The same old madness every day
I wanna kick these blues away
I wanna learn to live again...
.
They held a quiet celebration for her thirty-third birthday. Chase had held her fingers steady so she could eat the cake Cuddy had sent over. Wilson brought them dinner and had given her a book as a present. He was under the impression that although her body was failing, her mind still needed nourishment. She took it kindly.
House had phoned, asking about the progress of the degeneration. Thirteen knew the unspoken question in his mind. Was it time?
She mostly sat a lot and watched TV. Chase cooked, and when she felt up to it she would help dry dishes. They had bought plastic. It was less fragile if dropped.
But she knew the day was coming. She didn't want to see the end of this disease. She didn't want to suffer like her brother had and her mother had. Better to end things while she still had a shred of dignity and control.
Four months after her birthday she called House, and let him know that it was time.
.
It's a dark road
And a dark way that leads to my house
And the word says
You're never gonna find me there oh no
I've got an open door
It didn't get there by itself
It didn't get there by itself
A/N: This fic was difficult for me to write. I did do some research on Huntington's so that I could get the symptoms down. We all know that Thirteen will eventually die, and this is my take on her life up to that point. There will be a sequel where House keeps his promise and Chase comes to terms.
I also looked up Thirteen's age on the show and the average age I got was about 28-29, so I used that as a starting point. She does have the faster moving Huntington's, so 33 isn't exactly early for her symptoms to become unbearable. This is most definitely AU. Thirteen will deteriorate and die, but maybe not like this. Also, the show runners have already stated that Chase and Thirteen will not end up together, so yep, very AU.
The song used is Dark Road by Annie Lennox which obsessive House watchers will recognize from an episode. Listening to the song while reading really sets the mood I think.
So please let me know what you thought, and be on the lookout for the sequel.
UPDATE: Sept. 12, 2011. This fic was edited.
Reviews are marvelous!
sl
Disclaimer: House, M.D. is the property of David Shore and Fox.