This fic is a tad disturbing (or so I've been told I think it's beautiful but I'm wierd) Anyway this is a House/Chase one-shot with torture cause I'm sick. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this, I know I enjoyed writing it.


I had closed my eyes again. It was always bad for me to close my eyes or fall asleep; they came for me if I closed my eyes.

So vulnerable, I always was even under my vain and cocky exterior.

Here I am awake with eyes closed and I can hear them now lingering by the doorway to the room in this abandoned hospital that they kept me locked in like a wild animal, wondering what they should do to me this time.

I didn't care; I had stopped caring so many months ago. They were horrid creatures with the faces of humans and they killed for the fun of it. Yet I loved them all.

Beautiful devils dressed in mortal clothing ever wanting the attention from passersby.

That's how they got me. I fell in love with one of them, my dear Greg.

I could hear them whispering but couldn't make out the words. I had lost the ability to understand language around a month ago and it was something I was grateful for, to not know what they planned to do with me.

Greg was here I could feel him as soon as he walked in the room. I was his and whatever happened to me was his call and I hated and loved him for it.

I heard more whispering both angry and calm Greg's and one of the others. I wish my beloved would kiss me one last time before he killed me, if that was in fact his plan for this evening.

Greg shushed the others and I knew he had discovered that I was awake.

He hissed something to the others and they quickly left us alone. Opening my eyes I saw Greg staring at me softly with his bright blue eyes. I saw his lips moving but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

Greg smiled sweetly, his pale hand brushing the limp blond out of my face. I shivered slightly as he kissed my forehead; he's always loving and gentle before he begins his real work.

His mouth formed the word darling and I felt my breath catch in my throat. If only he I could hear his voice. More words of affection, but I pay no attention to them, they will only hurt me more.

I know what he's here for and I don't want him to try and be sweet to me.

"Just get it over with." I can feel my mouth forming these words I can feel the thickness of my accent on my tongue but I don't hear the words.

Greg's beautiful rugged face hardened and I could see a flash of anger in his sapphire eyes.

Grabbing my arm angrily he dragged me to my feet and into the small dirty bathroom. Roughly he turned me so that I was facing the rather small mirror that had been cracked at the edges.

His mouth formed the word 'look', so I obeyed. He gingerly touched my lips and again I shivered at the intimacy in his touch.

I leaned back into him and reached up to run my fingers through his brown and grey hair making his smile widen. I was dependent on him and that was what made me hate him as much as I loved him.

'Beautiful' he mouthed.

I grimaced as he kissed my neck so lightly I wondered if I had just imagined it.

'I love you' I felt myself say.

Greg looked at me in amusement before he turned me around and produced a needle and some thread from his jacket pocket.

I wasn't surprised, I had spoken out of turn and I had to be punished for it.

The ocean-eyed monster grabbed my chin and smiled evilly. I smiled back weakly knowing that is what he wanted.

Expertly he threaded the needle before cupping my chin in his hand once more. I closed my eyes and prepared for the wonderfully blissful pain he would bring me.

I tried not to scream as I felt the needle go through my upper lip and then my lower. I knew he was laughing he always did when he caused me pain. It gave him a certain happiness whenever he did something like this.

Opening my eyes as he strung the thread through and quickly pierced my lips again, he laughed harder and I felt the hatred swirling in my chest.

My vision blurred and I felt warm tears make there way down my dirty pale face. Greg went agonizingly slow, each stitch was done slower than the last.

Blood and tears ran down my chin, dripping onto my bare chest and the dirty and broken tiled floor, which collected into a perfect puddle of blood, sweat, and tears.

Finally he finished and as he backed away to view his masterpiece I fell to my knees in exhaustion. I could feel the blood as it flowed into my mouth, the coppery taste making me sick to my stomach.

I felt his arms wrap around me and he carefully picked me up and carried me back into the dingy room that had become my prison.

Laying me gently on the bed he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the dirt, tears, and blood until he was satisfied that I looked presentable.

He stroked my hair lovingly and again I started to cry, wishing he could be this tender and love me all the time.

I watched as his mouth formed the words "Stop crying wombat."

Anger and love swirled together in a violent storm as both emotions warred inside of me. He smiled again as if he could feel my internal struggle. I wanted to hate him so much but I knew I never fully could.

I was going crazy and it was his fault, yet he was the only one who could care for me right now. I belonged to him, and I always would.

I knew he wasn't going to kill me anytime soon like I wanted him to. My dear Greg was going to keep me alive for a very long time while he tortured and cared for me.

"Goodnight beautiful" he mouthed as he kissed my sewn lips gently.

I looked away from him and I felt him leave the room shutting the door and locking it like he did every night even though he knew I wouldn't run.

Standing, I shakily make my way to the bathroom to see what my master had done to my mouth.

I stood there staring at myself in the mirror. Blond hair in disarray, green eyes puffy and red from crying, and my mouth was swollen and sewn shut with a thin piece of cord. For a moment I thought about ripping the thread open, defying Greg enough to make him kill me.

But I knew better, he would just sew my mouth shut again this time with a thicker cord to make it hurt more.

I didn't mind the pain but I didn't want to anger Greg when he had done such a wonderful job the first time.

Gently I ran a finger over my mouth and flinched slightly in pain. Greg told me once when I came here that I would be his masterpiece and everyone would envy my beauty.

It has been over a year since he spoke those words and I can no longer understand language or hear my own words, I cannot sleep, and now I cannot speak.

I am silence in its most beautiful form.