This was written to try and help me get my grooooove back on so I can finish House Hunting! For anyone reading it, I promise to update ASAP! I hope this is alright, the idea came to me when I was unloading my dishwasher. I really hope you like it. :)
When the phone rang in the middle of the night, I didn't think anything of it. I was prepared to ignore it, but Greg said otherwise.
"Jimmy, answer the phoooone…" He moaned into my chest. With a sigh I reached over and clumsily reached for the phone.
"Hello?" I muttered. It was three in the morning for crying out loud. I groaned inside when I heard the voice reply, but when I heard more I felt my heart sink. I passed the phone to Greg.
"It's for you." He batted it away like I knew he would. "Greg, it's Cuddy."
"Your mom's been rushed to ICU." His head shot up and he snatched the phone out of my hands, sitting upright to listen properly. Silently I got out of bed and grabbed our clothes, strewn over the floor. I already knew why Blythe was there from what Lisa told me on the phone - heart attack. But because of her age, it did some serious damage. She probably won't last the night. Having hastily gotten dressed and found a tee shirt & jeans for Greg, I stood up and watched as he slowly hung up the phone and put it on the bed. He didn't move, just sat there, staring at his hands in his lap, taking deep breathes.
"Greg? I've found some clothes for you…" He didn't even look in my direction, or give any inclination that he even heard me. All he did was blink. I know I shouldn't have, but I overreacted.
"House! For God's sake, pull yourself together! I know it's tough but you need to get dressed now!" I snapped, regretting it the second the words tumbled out of my mouth. When Greg suddenly got up, I honestly thought he was going to hit me - he advanced so quick. But instead he snatched his clothes from my hands and limped sans-cane into the bathroom, slamming the door. I could of sworn that his eyes were glossy with tears. I wouldn't be cried while he was in there. I scrubbed my face with my hands and collapsed on the bed. I could be such an idiot sometimes…
I was startled from my self-pity by a loud thud coming from the bathroom. I sprinted there and flung the door open. What I saw tugged at my heart so strongly that I thought it was going to rip it out of my chest.
Greg was curled up in a ball on the floor, clutching his ruined thigh in agony. Wearing only his boxers and shirt, I guessed that he was in the middle of getting dressed. I noticed that where I was standing was wet - there was a growing puddle of water on the floor flowing from the sink. I quickly turned the tap off and drained the water before rushing over to him, kneeling at his side. I laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder to let him know that I was there before I sat on the floor, my back against the wall. I watched sadly as Greg painfully turned to face me and slowly crawled onto my lap, shoving his face into the crook of my neck.
"Did you slip in the puddle?" I softly asked him. I was proven right when he nodded before sliding his arms around me as best as he could. I softly sighed, and did the same while resting my head against his. "I'm really sorry I yelled at you, Greg. But we can't stay here forever."
"Few more minutes." Greg mumbled, sounding like he was about to cry any second. Carefully, I lifted his face to look at me. My God, he looked so lost and forlorn. I brought our foreheads together and softly kissed him.
"I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, Greg." I tightened my hold on him. "But we need to get going soon, okay?" A very reluctant Greg nodded, so I carefully got us both on our feet and helped him finish getting dressed. When he was ready, he stood in the middle of the bathroom looking defeated. Taking his hand in mine I gradually got him in the car and drove us to the hospital. I didn't have a clue how he was going to deal with this - John House died only a few months ago, and now his mother was going too.
Cuddy met us at the entrance and took us to Blythes room. In the elevator on the way there, Greg reached for my hands. I took it and squeezed it in return. If Cuddy wasn't there he'd be safe in my arms, where I could tell that's where he really wanted to be. When we arrived, Cuddy gratefully left us alone with her. Neither Greg nor myself could believe that this was actually happening. Blythe looked extremely pale and small, lying in the hospital bed hooked up to machines. Greg let go of my hand and rushed to her side, sitting in one of the plastic chairs.
"Greg! You… you came…" She wearily reached out for his hand and he enveloped it with both of his. She then turned to look at me. "Don't be a stranger, James. Sit down!" Quickly, I pulled the other chair next to Greg and sat down. I wasn't quite sure what to do with my hands, so I simply put a hand on his knee. We made small talk, trying to avoid talking about the inevitable. But some things just have to be said.
"Greg… how long do the doctors say I've got?" He glanced up at Blythe, and swallowed. Before he answered, he took several deep breathes.
"Well.. Er… not very long at all…" Greg wouldn't look up, so I squeezed his knee. I stole a glance at Blythe in time to watch her slump in defeat.
"James can you leave me with my son please?" I sadly smiled, nodded and squeezed Gregs shoulder on my way out. I sat in one of the chairs by the door and put my head in my hands. My thoughts instantly turned to Greg. By tonight, he'll of lost the last member of his family, and possible one of the few people who understood him and loved him for who he was. I made a mental note to speak to my parents more often.
My stomach sank when I heard the heart machines screech into life, alarms blaring. Several nurses rushed past me and into Blythes room. I followed them inside, taking note of the lack of noise now and one of the nurses writing in Blythes chart. Greg sidled up to me and plonked his head on my shoulder. It was ever so slightly damp.
"Take me home, James." I took his hand and did exactly that, after informing Cuddy that we wouldn't be in for a week or so. I must of broke the speed limit several times, but I didn't care. As soon as we got home, Greg limped into our bedroom and shed his jeans. I quickly followed suit and climbed into bed. Once Greg joined me, I turned to look at him and pulled him against me, tucking his head under my chin. When the tears came, they arrived in the form of heart-wrenching sobs, each one wracking his body which made him clutch at my chest.
"Shh.. It's okay, Greg…" I tried to sooth him, but to no avail. I turned onto my back and pulled a still sobbing Greg onto my chest. Whenever he has a bad pain night, I found that having him listen to my heartbeat helped to calm and sooth him. It gave him something to focus on besides the pain.
"Shh shh… I've got you, Greg, it's all going to be alright, you're going to be okay." I whispered, while stroking his hair, his cheek, any part of him I could reach. It took a while, but his breathing slowly evened out. I wondered how long it would last. He wouldn't get over the death of his mother any time soon - if at all. It tore me apart to see the man I loved so very much in so much pain. I vowed there and then to always be there for him. These next few months were going to be so difficult for Greg - I foresaw several more situations like this where Greg needed someone to hold him and assure him that everything was going to be okay.
He was going to need me to be there for him. I'll be damned if I let him down.
A/N - I know that I kind of rushed that. But I'm catching a train tomorrow and gotta pack!