Hello! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! :D
I was watching previous seasons of House and I decided to write something Christmasy. :p This takes place in season 3 and it's a different ending for the episode
Merry Little Christmas. Cameron goes back to House's place. Not a very happy episode, I know, but there is going to be one more chapter. :)
I'm working on the stories I've been planning to write but I haven't finished them yet that's why I haven't posted anything. And sorry for not posting the epilogue
I promised for the story "Maybe". It's still half finished and I have no idea when I'll post it so I'm not promising anything...
I hope you will enjoy this story! Happy Holidays! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D.
Merry little Christmas...
Pure agony… that describes the way you are feeling right now perfectly. Your hand clutches your thigh muscle tightly, trying to relieve some of the pain but it has no affect at all. You are covered with sweat but at the same time you feel cold. You feel slightly nauseous too.
It's Christmas Eve and you are alone in your apartment, in agonizing pain, trying to find a way to ease said pain. And all this because that stupid cop wants to get back at you for the stunt you pulled in the clinic. Who is the jerk now?
You close your eyes and you drop your head back. You massage your marred thigh harder, pressing the hill of your hand on your gnarled skin. You have no pills, no morphine and no other opiates in your apartment that could help.
Your eyes dart to the bandage on your left forearm and for a moment you consider ripping it off and pouring some alcohol on it. That would at least dull the pain in your thigh. Your right hand leaves your thigh and you run your fingers over the bandage but after a few seconds you pull your hand away.
You don't know why you don't just rip it off but you have a feeling that she has something to do with this reaction. If she had just brought you pills… Your stubborn female employee who cares too much for her own good. Unfortunately she didn't and now you have to find another way to cope.
You let out a ragged breath and you rub your hand over your tired face. You need to get out of here, you need to find pills, you can't stand this anymore!
A soft knock on the door catches your attention. Great… of course you know who it is but you don't have the courage to stand up and head to the door right now.
"Go away!" you call out and you hope that she will listen to you.
"House, open the door." Her voice makes you sigh.
"Which part of go away don't you get?" you ask, not expecting an answer of course.
There is silence for a few moments and then you hear a key being inserted into the lock and you groan. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. Can't she just walk away from you? Haven't you ruined her enough already?
You hear her footsteps and you turn your head towards that direction. A few moments later you see her, your eyes on her face.
"In what language do you want me to talk in order for you to understand?" you snap but she doesn't say anything.
She takes her bag off her shoulder and she drops it on the armchair. She takes off her scarf and jacket and they join her bag on the armchair.
"Do you actually talk?" you question.
"When the question is stupid no, I don't." she replies.
Her eyes settle on your face and she studies you for long moments. You are pretty sure that she notices everything and suddenly you feel uneasy and you look away from her expressive green-blue eyes.
A sigh escapes her lips and she averts her gaze too.
"Did you, by any chance, bring any pills now?" you already know the answer but you decide to ask anyway.
"Nope…" she doesn't look at you; she busies herself with her bag and starts taking various things out.
She places some small bottles on the coffee table, two pill bottles, a bandage and a heating pad. You don't know if you are going to like what's going to happen next.
"Whatever you have in your mind forget it." You state in a serious tone but she seems unfazed by the look you cast her way.
She doesn't say anything, she just walks towards you and she sits on the couch. You look deeply in her eyes and at that moment you know you are in trouble.
"I'm not going to cooperate." She senses the uneasiness and uncertainty in your voice but she doesn't comment.
"I'm just here to help." She tries to reassure you.
"But that bottle over there is not Vicodin." You say surely, pointing at the pill bottle on the coffee table.
"Ibuprofen and something for the nausea." She replies making you groan.
"Do you think that Ibuprofen can help with this amount of pain?" you yell at her, suddenly angry.
"It will if you let me help you." She contradicts and you roll your eyes.
"I don't want your help!" she shakes her head and she crosses her arms over her chest.
"Too bad because I'm helping you whether you like it or not." She states defiantly and she stands up and heads to the bathroom.
"Where are you going?" you shout but she keeps walking.
Your hand drops on your thigh once again and you shut your eyes tightly. This is not going well...
Suddenly you hear water running and you groan in frustration. This can't be happening. Your pain is not enough? You have to go through this too?
She emerges a few minutes later with a glass of water which she hands to you and she takes the pill bottle from the coffee table. She shakes two pills and one from the other bottle in her hand and she gives them to you.
You quirk an eyebrow questioningly and she lets out a sigh.
"Just take the pills. I know it's not Vicodin but it's going to at least take the edge off." she explains.
"I'm a doctor too and trust me, it's going to do nothing."
"Will you just listen to me for once? I'm not here to fight you I'm here to help you." She tells you in frustration.
Your eyes dart form the pills in your hand to her eyes. She looks expectantly at you but she doesn't talk, she just waits patiently for you to do something. You cast one last glance at the pills you are holding. What the hell, they are not going to do any more harm.
In an instant you take the pills and you wash them down with water. You hand the empty glass to her and you lie back down on the couch.
She rests the glass on the coffee table and she disappears down the hall once again. You try to distract yourself by turning your attention to the TV until she returns. You abandon that plan soon and you close your eyes and just lay there.
You try to concentrate on your breathing instead, maybe that will take your mind off the pain for just a second, but before you can do that you feel her hand touching your shoulder gently.
Your eyes connect with hers and she motions for you to stand up.
"What now? I took the pills." You complain.
"Hot bath. It's going to help with the pain…" she explains.
"It's Christmas Eve, what are you doing here again?" you deflect, not making a move to stand.
"I think it's pretty obvious." She states simply with a small shrug.
"Yes, but why are you doing this?" you press.
She lets out a breath slowly and she runs her fingers through her hair. She stays silent, contemplating her answer. You try to keep your eyes on her but you feel a stabbing pain run through your thigh and you look away.
You clutch your thigh with both hands and you breathe heavily, waiting for the pain to ease a little. She is by your side in a instant but she has no idea what to do to help you.
You feel her hand on your shoulder and your eyes find hers.
"Soaking it in hot water is going to help. I know it's not going to do wonders but you are going to feel better."
You know she is right, of course you do. And you feel your defenses crumble when you look in her beautiful eyes. You don't have another choice anyway so you decide to just give in and let her help you.
You nod slightly and you sit up straight on the couch. You greet your teeth as you turn so that your feet rest on the floor. She catches your hand in hers and she helps you stand up. You drape your arm over her shoulders and together you walk to the bathroom.
She gently guides you to sit at the edge of the bathtub and she reaches for the hem of your sweatshirt. She looks at you, asking silently for permission. A curt nod from you and she slowly pulls it over your head. She catches your hands again helping you stand and she lowers your pajama bottoms.
She tries not to touch your scar, not wanting to cause you any more pain. When you are stripped down to your boxers she moves away from you.
"If you need any help just call me, I'll be in the living room." She tells you, avoiding your gaze.
When she walks out of the bathroom you take off your boxers too and you slowly lower yourself into the bathtub with great effort.
A sigh escapes your lips when the hot water makes contact with your scar and you drop your head back. You catch some water with your hands and you pour it over your face and your hair.
You take some deep breaths and you stay unmoving for long minutes. The combination of the hot water and the pills she gave you start working and you calm down somewhat. You lose track of time and you start to dose off when you hear a knock on the door.
"Can I come in?" she asks tentatively.
"Yeah…" you mumble without opening your eyes.
"I brought you some fresh clothes." She says in a soft tone.
She walks inside and places your clothes on the closed toilet lid. Then, without another word, she leaves you alone again.
You rub your hand over your tired eyes and you look at the clothes she brought for you. She also left a towel and your cane nearby. Maybe it's time to get out, the water will get cold soon…
Getting out seems a lot easier than when you got in the bathtub. You grab the towel and you quickly dry yourself and then you start dressing. You put on your boxer shorts, socks, t-shirt and sweatshirt and then you frown. Where did she put your pajama bottoms?
You grab your cane and you make your way to the living room. The moment you step out of the bathroom you catch a smell in the air and the frown on your face deepens. You walk to the living room but you don't find her there but you do see her in the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" you ask and she turns to look at you.
"Trying to make something edible with the things you have in your fridge and cupboards. Something really hard to do…" she replies.
"Ok, on to my next question then. Where are my pants?" you ask, furrowing your brow.
"You won't be needing them." She states and after closing the lid of the pot she walks towards you.
"If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask." You say with a roll of your eyes.
"Feeling a little better?" she asks with a small smile, studying your expression.
You give her a small nod and you follow her back to the living room.
"Can I have my pajama bottoms now?" you ask sitting heavily on the couch.
She takes the blanket from the back of the couch and she drapes it over your body, covering your legs. She has also turned up the heating so you don't feel cold.
"I'll give them to you later." She looks at the various little bottles that are still on the coffee table and she takes one in her hand. You know what this is and you suddenly feel alarmed.
"No, hell no!" you state firmly, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
"House, it's going to help you." She argues but you just shake your head.
"No! I took the stupid Ibuprofen, I soaked in the hot tub but I'm not letting you massage my leg!" you state and she sighs.
"Did the pills and the hot bath harm you?" you look away at that and she gets her answer by that simple move.
"Just let me do this…" she whispers resting her hand on your knee.
You gulp, suddenly feeling agitated and nervous. You can't let her do that, you don't let anyone see your scar let alone touch it. You already feel vulnerable, if you agree to do this you'll be in big trouble.
You look into her eyes, trying to gauge what she is thinking. Big mistake… You shouldn't have done that. You see everything in those eyes, all of her emotions, and this time she doesn't try to hide them from your piercing gaze.
This is insane… you've managed to stay away from her for so long but now, in this moment, you don't know if you have the courage to say no to her. You are tired, still in pain and she wants to help you. And that look… her eyes were always your weak spot and as she looks at you now you know that you can't deny.
You look away and then you grab the edge of the blanket and you uncover your right thigh to her. You look anywhere but at her. You don't want to see the disgust in her eyes at the sight of your scar.
"I'm a doctor too you know, I've seen plenty of scars in my life." She tells you in a soft tone, trying to reassure you but it's not working.
You feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you see her opening the massage-oil bottle and pouring some on her hand. She rubs her hand together, warming the liquid first.
Your whole body stiffens the moment her hands make contact with your thigh. She looks up in alarm, afraid that she hurt you and she finds your eyes closed.
"You ok?" she asks in concern and you give her a curt nod.
It's been so long since someone touched you like that that you have no idea how you are feeling. And then she starts massaging your thigh gently and you drop your head back with a groan. You clutch the blanket tightly in your fists and you grit your teeth as she starts putting more pressure.
The whole time her eyes dart from your thigh to your face, too worried that she is causing you even more pain. Various moans and groans leave your lips as her delicate fingers trace the contour of your scar and massage it.
After a few minutes of her ministrations you feel your muscle start loosening up. The pain doesn't feel as sharp as before and you can breathe more easily now. Your whole body relaxes under her soft yet firm touch and you unclench your fists.
You let out a breath and you slowly open your eyes. You look at her face closely, observing every expression as she works her magic.
She must sense your eyes on her because suddenly she looks up and your eyes lock together. Her green-blue eyes are mesmerizing and you can clearly see her worry and concern as she looks deeply in your blue eyes. For some reason you can't tear your gaze away and she seems to have the same problem.
You have to do something, anything, to break that connection but you find yourself unable to do so. So you just reach out and cover her hand with yours, giving it a little squeeze.
"Ok?" she asks tentatively, not taking her hand away.
"Better…" you whisper and she smiles softly.
She reluctantly pulls back and she stands up. You lie on the couch and she takes the heating-pad from the coffee table and she gently places it over your scar. She then arranges the blanket, covering your body so that you don't feel cold and she hands you the remote.
"I'm going to check on the soup." She excuses herself and she walks to the kitchen.
You heave a sigh as you watch her retreating form and then you turn your attention to the TV.
You have to admit, you feel a lot better now. The pain is not completely gone but it's not intense now and the pills helped a bit. You don't feel nauseous anymore thanks to the pill she gave you and you are not sweaty and cold.
This feels so strange… having her in your apartment, taking care of you like no one else has done in the past. You hear her moving around in your kitchen, preparing something for you to eat, and if you close your eyes it is so easy to imagine something different.
You shake your head trying to clear your thoughts because this is a dangerous path. You can't think of her that way, it's only going to lead to heartbreak. But still you can't help but wonder what it would be like to have her around here for other reasons.
Your eyes start closing from exhaustion and you don't try to fight it. You close your eyes and a few minutes later you fall asleep…
You wake up to the sound of the TV. The volume is not loud, barely audible. You stretch lightly and you open your eyes gingerly. You rub your hand over your face and you stifle a yawn.
You look to your right and that's when you spot her. She has moved the armchair close to the couch so that she is near you in case you need anything.
She is sleeping peacefully, a blanket draped over her lower body, the book she was reading on her lap and her glasses still perched on her nose. You can't help but smile at the sight of her.
You didn't exactly sleep peacefully. You were fine for an hour or so but then your leg started giving you a hard time again. And she never left your side… she stayed with you, brought you your pills, massaged your thigh once again and helped you with everything you needed. You let her… You still try to figure out why you didn't object. Maybe because you were in pain or because you've finally admitted to yourself that you can't keep fighting her anymore. Maybe it was a combination of the two…
You notice that she left your pills on the coffee table so you reach out and take them in your hand. You swallow the pills and you drink the water she has left for you.
Then you reach out and you gently rest your hand on her knee. She almost jumps out of the armchair just by that simple touch.
"You are awake." She states, not knowing what else to say and you actually chuckle.
"Yeah, I thought that would be kind of obvious." She shakes her head in amusement and you smirk.
"You seem better." She comments taking off her glasses.
She rests them and the book on the coffee table and she looks at you.
"I feel better." You tell her honestly making her smile.
"That's good." She mumbles, noticing that your hand is still on her knee. "No nausea?"
"Nope, none at all right now. Actually, I think I'm kind of hungry… Think we can order a pizza?" you say but she shakes her head.
"Do you want to upset your stomach?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. "Did you forget how many times you threw up the last hours?"
"Must have slipped my mind…" you tap your fingers against your chin, pretending to be thinking about it.
"I could make you a toast or something." She suggests.
"French toast?" you ask hopefully and she chuckles upon seeing the expression on your face.
"I could do that." You give her knee a squeeze and then you drop your hand when you see her standing up.
You grab the remote and you start surfing through the channels mindlessly while listening to her moving around your kitchen. You find what is on really boring so you concentrate fully on her. You watch her as she opens your cupboards and fridge, collecting the ingredients she needs. She seems like she belongs there and when that thought pops into your head you groan. You already are in too much trouble and if she stays in your apartment longer you are going to be in even bigger trouble…
You try to concentrate on the TV again, something really hard to do when she is just a few feet away from you. Soon the smell of French toast fills the apartment and you start feeling ravenous. The soup you ate earlier didn't stay in your stomach for long so you are hungry again.
When she has prepared everything she returns to the living room with a big full plate and two smaller ones. She brings some orange juice too and urges you to drink it before putting a slice of French toast in your plate and handing it to you.
You take a big bite and you close your eyes, savoring the taste. This is so much better than you thought it would be. You eat the first slice greedily and you reach out for another one.
"Good?" she asks, taking a bite from her own slice and you nod vigorously.
You eat in silence, neither of you knowing what to say really. You are grateful for everything she's done for you the past hours but you were never good with words and you have no idea how to tell her what is in your mind.
You pretend to be watching TV but your eyes keep falling on her. She seems to be deep in thought as she eats her toast and she avoids looking at you. You'd give anything to know what she is thinking right now but you are certain that she wouldn't tell you even if you asked.
When you both finish eating she gathers the plates and takes them to the kitchen. Now that you've eaten you feel even better than before. You stretch languidly and then you glance at the clock on the wall. 4 o' clock in the morning… damn, it's actually Christmas
And she is still here…
You see her emerging from the kitchen and walking back towards you. She settles in the armchair again and your eyes connect with hers immediately.
"It's Christmas, why are you still here?" you ask her suddenly catching her completely off guard.
"After everything you still don't know why I'm here?" she says.
"You are here because you care. But I can't figure out why you care." You tell her in frustration.
"And you never will." She states surely and a frown appears on your face.
You look curiously at her, your eyebrow raised in a silent question. She just smiles cryptically and she adjusts the blanket around her body.
"Why will I never figure it out? Why don't you just tell me?" you ask searching her eyes for the answer you so desperately need.
"Even if I do tell you I don't think you'll understand." You can hear the sadness in her voice.
"Try me." You challenge and she takes a deep breath.
"You'll never understand because you don't see yourself the way I see you." She states simply making the frown on your face deepen. "And because you haven't really figured me out like you think you have." She adds and leans back in the armchair.
"Care to elaborate?" she ponders it for a while before answering. All the while your eyes remain on her face.
"You are rude, bitter, sarcastic, you act like a jerk more times than necessary and you hide yourself behind the walls you've created around you heart to protect it."
"But you don't see me like that?" you ask, your gaze boring holes into her eyes.
"I'm not blind. I see all those things but I also see what everyone else doesn't. I know that you care despite the fact that you try to hide it and most of the times you succeed. I see you as an intelligent, handsome and very interesting man with a great sense of humor and many talents, which of course you refuse to share with the rest of the world." She tells you and the honesty in her eyes catches you off guard.
"I think you might be delusional." She just shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest.
"I'm delusional? You are the one that thinks that I want to fix you and that you are my next charity case." She contradicts.
"Oh and you don't want to do that?" you snap and she sighs.
"You are confusing me with someone else. I never wanted to change you I just wanted to love you. But I guess that whoever loved you wanted to change you so it's not really your fault that you believe that." She says in defeat and she slowly stands up.
Your fingers wrap around her wrist and you stop her.
"What about your husband?" this is your chance to finally get your answers, you are not going to let her go that easily.
"I loved my husband. We knew each other since high-school and we were friends even before we got together. I didn't marry him because I believed I could cure him, I married him because I loved him and because we were planning our life together long before he got sick. I wanted to be there for him..." she whispers.
Her green-blue eyes connect with yours and you know she is telling the truth. Her beautiful eyes are tearing up and at that moment you can't help it. You pull her down, making her sit on the couch next to you and you wrap your arms around her body.
She buries her face in the crook of your neck and for some reason it feels so good holding her in your arms. She returns the embrace reluctantly at first and when you tighten your hold around her she hugs you back tightly.
She fits perfectly in your embrace and for once you don't try to deny the way you feel about her.
"Stay…" your voice sounds almost pleading.
"Why should I?" she mumbles, not moving from her position at all.
"Because you care…" you pause and you take a deep breath "Because I need you to stay…" you whisper in her ear and she pulls back in order to look into your eyes.
"Is this like the time you needed me to come back to work?"
"No." you reply immediately and you reach out and cup her cheek with your hand.
You may not be able to tell her what this really means to you but you think you can at least show her. You caress her cheek with your thumb and then you lean in and brush your lips against hers ever so gently.
She stays unmoving for a moment too long and you think that she is going to leave but when your lips brush over hers once again she responds to your tender kiss. You feel her soft lips moving against yours slowly and your heart skips a beat at the sensation.
Your hand drops on her thigh as you continue kissing softly, not rushing at all, savoring every little moment of this. You are sure that you've never felt like this before in your life. Your eyes are closed and your lips never separate. You are concentrated only on her, you try to memorize everything; the way her lips feel against yours, her taste, her smell, the soft touch of her hands on your chest.
A soft moan escapes you and she pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against yours.
"House…" she breathes out and you open your eyes.
Her green-blue eyes are mesmerizing and you find yourself unable to look away.
"Stay…" you plead. When did you become so desperate? Maybe it's her fault…
"I don't know…" she mumbles.
"Please…" you cup her face in your hands and you kiss her softly.
She doesn't answer, she just presses her lips against yours and she wraps her arms around your neck drawing you impossibly closer to her. Your eyes close involuntarily and you give in to her without a second thought.
Soon the kiss grows in intensity and becomes more demanding. Your arms find their way around her body. You pull away from her only when you are completely breathless and you drop your forehead against hers.
"You are staying?" she nods and she catches your hand and stands up.
She helps you up and you let her guide you to your bedroom. You sit down on the bed and she stands between your parted thighs. Your hands rest on her hips and you look up at her. You are both aware of the enormity of the situation you are in.
Every moment, every glance, every touch has led you up to this. And this time neither of you is going to back down. In her eyes you see everything; her worry, her desire, her love… you are not afraid of these feelings anymore. For the first time in a long time you are not afraid to feel…
All thought disappears as she kisses you and you eagerly respond to her. Your clothes slowly come off and when you finally lie with her in bed you feel your heart ready to burst.
You take your time to caress every inch of her glorious body and she does the same for you. Your touches are soft, tender, you both try to memorize everything, learn each other's bodies.
You kiss and caress every part of her body you can reach and as you slip inside her waiting body and she breathes out your name you forget everything about the pain in your leg. Your bodies fit so perfectly, like two pieces of the same puzzle and you wonder why you denied her for so long.
You move together slowly, your eyes locked all the time. Even if you wanted you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from her eyes. She is so beautiful, mesmerizing…
Her hands run up and down your sweaty back and her moans spur you on. Your breathing is labored and you are both so close to completion. When your hand travels between your joined bodies she cries out and she drops her head back in pure ecstasy.
You can't hold back any longer and you join her to orgasmic bliss, crashing your lips against hers and drowning her moans of pleasure.
She hugs you tightly as you lie on top of her, kissing you tenderly, almost lovingly. When you pull back you nuzzle her neck and she sighs contently, caressing your hair.
"Are you in pain?" she asks worriedly.
"Endorphins…" you mumble against her damp skin "I'm even better now." You try to reassure her, looking deeply in her eyes.
You lie on your side, drawing her with you. Your right leg slips between hers and you close your eyes. Endorphins and body heat, perfect combination for you. You let out a breath slowly and you drape your arm over her waist.
At that moment you realize that with her you feel safe to be vulnerable something you've never felt in your life before. She kisses you on the lips and you caress her cheek.
"Hmmm…" you mumble.
"Take the deal. Please…" your fingers run over her bare arm as you contemplate your answer.
"I'm in pain, that's why I take the Vicodin." You reason.
"The cop obviously doesn't." you cut her off.
She tilts your chin up and makes you look at her.
"He is not going to give up…" she says in a low tone.
"I know…" you whisper and you trace the outline of her lips with your finger.
"Will you at least think about it?" she mumbles, nuzzling your nose with hers.
"I got two more days, right?"
"Ok then." You pull her to you so that her head is pillowing your bicep and you kiss the top of her head.
You don't want to think about pills, jail, the deal or that jerk. You just want to concentrate on the feeling of having her in your arms. You'll have time to do all those things in the morning. Maybe she'll help you. And as you close your eyes you remember something.
"Merry Christmas… Allison…" you mumble. Her first name sounds a little strange coming from your lips but when you see her soft smile you decide that you like it.
"Merry Christmas Greg." She replies making a smile appear on your lips too.
If this Christmas turned out this way after all you can't wait to see how next Christmas is going to be…