…And sometimes they come back.
Everyone has secrets; everyone makes the kind of mistakes that can make you want to run from your life. But eventually you have to come back. So what if you attempted suicide, are dying of a crippling disease, went crazy, cheated on your wife, ran away from your husband, murdered someone, or followed your dreams at the expense of your family? It has to be dealt with eventually.
This story mostly involves House, Cameron, Kutner, Thirteen, Chase, Taub, and Foreman. Wilson and Cuddy will get mentions but that's really about it.
The first few chapters will be a little bit short and will go through each of their POVs, starting with House.
Let me know what you think.
You went crazy. For a few weeks you couldn't tell what was real from what wasn't. You saw Amber, you spoke to her, you two shared a bathtub as you accidentally tried to murder Chase. You could feel her as clearly as you felt the constant throbbing of your thigh. She was real.
But she wasn't. You lost it, went bananas, flew over the cuckoo's nest, whatever anyone wanted to call it. You were the guy strapped to a bed as doctors over analyzed your every behavior until just a few weeks ago.
You're lucky though. Your problems could be blamed on the pills, your childhood, your inability to connect to real people; really your life is a mess of clichéd problems. But, you know that has to be better than those born just plain crazy. That – one might not recover from. But, here you are, medical license and all, just as good (and moderately less fucked up) than you were two years ago, before everything started going down the rabbit hole.
Before you pushed yourself into everyone's business and had a dead body sized stack of issues out in the open forcing you into insanity.
You knew Chase was going to do something he's regret with Dibala, you knew Thirteen was dying, you knew about Cameron's unshakable moral compass, and you had no idea about Kutner, but you pushed them all anyhow. Maybe, too far. No, definitely too far. You've always had some sort of insatiable need to fuck up what isn't broken. It's because you can see the problems in everything, you can always spot the cracks in the foundation, and you cant help but peak inside, shoving your head so far down the hole that you don't know which way is up anymore.
So you suppose that it's not terrible that you're back here. You know that to rebuild anything you first need a clean foundation. When Cuddy first called, you told her you were done. You really had every intention of never coming back to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital ever again. You thought you could take a move out of Cameron's book and get the hell out of dodge.
But, then she manipulated you in. Luring you with the promise of a pay check you didn't really need considering your mooching skills, and a waver in her voice when she told you she didn't care that hallucinated a night with her. You could tell she had feelings for you from the cracking in her voice, so you picked yourself up and came in.
Then she let something slip out about a session for the team with Psych partially designed by legal to make sure the team functions properly. You shrugged, figured you could catch a few hours of rest while your baby doctors shared their feelings, and so you showed up on time for your first day back.
Then you saw Cameron nervously seated in the front corner of the classroom Cuddy had told you to show up in, Chase sitting in the farthest chair from her across the room. Thirteen slouched in the third row, Taub with his head on the table in the back, Foreman sitting directly behind her, Kutner sitting by the window staring off, and Cate, the psychologist you once saved from a broken toe, standing at the podium holding a stack of note cards and looking at you like she was about to wring you out until everyone of your past sins sat sloppily out on the floor below your twisted corpse.
"I want you to write down your problem. I want all of those bottled up emotions, every skeleton from your closet, and the reason why you don't want to be here summed up in a few lines small enough to be written on this note card. It's just for you, but this session will be pointless if you write down something stupid." She gave you an extra look.
So, you did it. You don't know why you complied, but you figured you could give this woman a chance. A little part of you fell for her a while back, so maybe she had a piece of your trust that no one else had.
You wrote how you'd gone crazy, how from your deep loneliness your mind conjured friends, how years of not trusting anyone and not caring if the means justified the extremes fucked you up. You let your emotional walls go and handed the card back to her so she could tear it up like she promised.
Then she read it aloud. And then Cameron's, Kutner's, Thirteen's, Taub's, Chase's, and finally Foreman's.
You all stared at each other awkwardly, tears threatening to spill from a few eyes, and Cate walked out. You heard a click from the door, and snapped your heard over to see what she had done. A white note slipped under the doorway and it took a full five minutes before someone, Cameron, stood up to read the note.
"I'll let you out when you've dealt with your shit." She read without emotion. You all looked at each other, both ready to kill someone and ready to curl up in a ball and cry.
"Who wants to go first?" Cameron asked, slamming the note onto a table with a frown.