In the Last Days of Azrael
A House fan-fic
Note: Not mine, David Shore et al created them, I just am playing with them.
One Year Later:
Time passes on faster that we care to think about and faster than it can recognize. One year had passed, and Will and I had become good friends over that time. We dated for awhile but we both realized that we both had connections to other loves around us; mainly the clinic we worked at and the former lovers we both knew whom had died similar deaths in the service of our country. No matter how much we tried to form a relationship, we both knew that we needed more time to heal from our lost loves before we could try to take our friendship to the next level.
I had lived in Chicago now for ten months, having finally convinced my landlord to allow me to break my lease so suddenly and having found a place to live in the Windy City. Work was great, except the last couple of months made our clinic witness to some of the worst urban warfare the city had seen in over a century. Riots and chaos had taken over the streets of our city, just as it had taken of the streets of every major city in the country. The people had spoken and it was time to revolute.
The days that had passed had also dulled the events that led me here to Chicago a year ago. Just as I had quickly found my place here, I had quickly lost touch with the questions that had once plagued me. Fortunately, the clinic had given me a place to grieve for Michael and a place to take care of myself as well.
The morning had started out like any other morning at our little clinic; a few sick elderly, a few accidents, and a gun shot wound. Nothing out of the ordinary for us. Looking back though, a homeless man with a bible and a cane did catch my eye when I first arrived. Maybe that played into my gut instinct that life was about to change.
I had woken up that morning to the nightmare of the board meeting a year ago today. I knew it was the anniversary of my accepting this job, and I just told myself that the anniversary was darker than I thought it was. I dreamt that I was back in the meeting, but rather than it ending with House and Will walking in, a man in a black mask walked in an gunned us all down. The final bullet in his gun hit me in the upper abdomen just as I awoke soaked in my own sweat and screaming. I was left alone, safe in my bedroom, but with the feeling that something was over; what it was I could not tell.
We had finally come to a dead stop in our schedule; Will and I had seen all of our patients on the docket and it was time to take a moment's rest and meet to work out some of the paperwork that was ever-looming. We were at that time of the year where we had to renew yet another set of grants that kept money flowing into our project. Just as we had sat down in the office to discuss the latest ideas, a terrified scream came from the waiting room followed by yelling, and a gunshot.
Will and I ran to see what was going on, knowing that someone would need our care. This was not normally how we would have done this, but today we just did. I was the first to get to the waiting room where an armed intruder stood over the body of our nurse. I looked at the gunman's eyes and saw hatred. Just as I looked down at the body of the nurse, he took me and held me at gunpoint.
The rest was a whirl of color, sound, and the acrid smell of spent gunpowder. Nothing was in focus except one thing: the homeless man from earlier that morning I now recognzied as House who sat across the waiting room reading the Chicago Herald, oblivious to what was going on, oblivious to the fact that he could help. Before I could figure out what was happening, I saw Will leaning over me from my left flashing a penlight in my eyes and calling out, "Stay with me Sandra, stay with me." I just barely turned my head to my right and realized House was holding my hand, watching Will trying to keep me with him.
"You've been shot." One of the doctors above me was saying.
"Stay with me." The other doctor was pleading. Which doctor was which I could no longer tell.
Bright lights flashed above me and I could sense that I was in a different room. Was this our trauma room? Why was I here? I looked to my right and House still firmly held my hand in his, showing a small sliver of a smile as if to try and comfort me.
"House?" I heard my voice call from somewhere distant.
"Sandra, just breathe!" Will was commanding me to do something by body was unwilling to do.
I saw Will standing above me and felt him push a tube down my throat, but he was having difficulties. He called for suction, but I didn't know why. I was fine, I was okay. House would make sure the boogeyman would stay away, right?
Everything went black.
And I could hear dancing shimmering on the walls around me.
Next thing I knew I was no longer lying on that gurney in our trauma room; it wasn't so much mine anymore as it was now just Will's. The hand that had been holding my own was still holding it, the rest of the body attached to that hand held me back where I was in the corner of the room. House held me back from comforting the doctor trying in vain to save my life.
"It's not my time." I whispered, a single tear slowly rolling down my face.
"You've been on borrowed time. Gabriel made a deal so that you could save yourself, with my help of course." House whispered as he tried to turn me from the sight of my dying body.
"Gabriel is here in this room." House finally managed to maneuver me around and standing in the corner was my late husband Michael. "I told you that your questions would be answered soon enough," House said as he released me to run towards my husband, words at a loss to describe the feelings that were overwhelming me.
Michael took me in his embrace. "Thank you Azrael, I could not have done this without you."
"Is this it then? Is my time finally up Gabriel? Do I finally get to see my friends this time?" House asked, a new meekness overtaking his tone of voice.
Michael spoke, "Azrael, your time of servitude is done, you may go."
House looked at the other corner of the room, where a man and a woman, both wearing labcoats, walked towards him smiling. "Wilson! Cuddy! Your breasts certainly haven't changed."
The woman spoke up, "We haven't seen you in eleven years and the first thing you comment on is my breasts?"
"Better it was not something else," the man next to her said as the two received grateful hugs from House.
House looked around the room at our spirits standing there. Before he could say anything though, Micheal spoke up, "Today is the last day of Gabriel, just as today is the last day of Azrael. Thank you again Azrael for saving Sandra from the fate she was about to create for herself."
"Thank you Michael for making this the last day of Azrael."