ticcyyy: (Default)
ticcyyy ([personal profile] ticcyyy) wrote2008-11-28 03:02 am
Entry tags:


title: Somnolence
characters/pairings: House, House/Thirteen, House/Amber
words: 1,088
rating: PG-13
notes: Well, I don't know about you, but I have always been bothered by the distinct lack of anything that came from House being shot. Last Resort made me think about that fact again. So, I wrote a quick fic. Not my usual style. Very stream of consciousness. But hopefully it works?

summary: This is what you dream about.

by Ticcy

alpha waves

It's the last thing you see in your mind before you close your eyes.

Moriarty. Jason. Gun. Gun in your face. Right in your face. At your chest. In your face again. Right there. So close, so real, you almost think it is. Thirteen. Gun. Thirteen's dying. She's dying. You're going to die. You're dying. You're bleeding. From your neck. Your stomach. Faces everywhere, everywhere. Faces you know. Cameron, Chase, Foreman. Wilson. Faces you wish you could forget. Jason. Moriarty. Gun. Gun in your face. Faces you need to remember because they need you. Thirteen. She's dying. You need to save her. You need to. You have to because she can't save herself. Thirteen. Cuddy. Cuddy. Oh god, you're bleeding, you're going to bleed to death.

Hypnic jerk. A violent one. You startle awake.

No. It's not real. It was real. But it's not now. You're safe, you tell yourself. You're safe, Greg. You're safe. It's okay.

You turn over onto your side, pull the covers up over your shoulders, snuggle your head into the pillow, close your eyes.

You're okay. You're going to be okay.

sleep spindles & K-complexes

You're dead. You can't move. A strong smell of blood.


Or is it Thirteen's?

It's all over your hands.

There's Amber. Staring at you. Still. Silent. Knowing. You stare back at her.

Are you dead? You must be. Maybe the blood on your hands is hers.

Amber, you say, but no sound comes out. She doesn't even blink. She just keeps staring at you. Staring. Staring. Right into your heart. Into your mind. Right into that very spot where guilt still eats away at you like acid.

I'm sorry, you silently say. I'm so sorry.

It's too late for that, Amber silently replies.

She starts to fade. You reach out for her. But she's gone. Thirteen takes her place. Staring at you. Standing alone. Holding herself. Afraid. She looks so small and fragile. She looks terrified.

You hold your hand out to her. Covered in blood. Stay with me, you silently plead.

Thirteen shakes her head. Everybody dies, House.

And then she's gone.

delta waves

You're back on the bus. The white bus. Naked. Ashamed. Guilty. Alone.

Why are you here?

You look down at your hands. They're still covered in blood. Dripping off your fingertips, smeared over your palms, down your wrists. Why am I here?

Hey, you.

You look up. Moriarty. He's standing in the aisle. Gun pointed at you. From a distance at first. He seems so far away, you feel like you're looking at him down a tunnel.

And then he's right in front of you. Right there. You're staring right down the barrel of the gun. Sweat on your forehead. Heart going into tachycardia. You're not dead. But you will be. Any second now.

Moriarty smiles. Squeezes the trigger slowly. So slowly. You're going to witness your own death in slow motion, heart beat by heart beat. Here it comes. Here it comes. You squeeze your eyes shut because you know what's going to happen next. Here it comes.

And then he vanishes. Gone. As though he was never there.

You open your eyes. Confused. You're still on the bus. Blood still dripping off your hands. Thirteen? Where is she? You need to save her.

Hey, you.

You turn your head the other way.

Jason. Weak. Pale. Almost skeletal. Pointing a gun at you.

Forget her. You need to save me, Jason silently says. So much silence. So silent, it's deafening. Like white noise.

You want to reply. You go to open your mouth, and realise your mouth is gone. It's gone. Closed up. Sealed. You can't cry out for help now. You can't call out for anyone to save you.

Suddenly, Jason is right in front of you. Gun pointed right in your face. He's sweating. Breathing raggedly. He's angry, desperate, he's going to kill you.

That's okay. You're sick of living. You're sick of being alive.

Wait a minute. Didn't you just want to plead for your life? Yes? No? What do you want, Greg? What do you want?

I don't know.

You look down at your hands again. Dripping with blood. Didn't Shakespeare write something to do with bloody spots never leaving the hands of the guilty? Driven to insanity, weren't they? Out, damned spot.

You look back up. You draw in a sharp breath. So sharp, it hurts. You realise your mouth is there again. You can scream out for help now if you want to. If you want to.

Do you want to?

The gun is right at your forehead. Cold steel. Cold. So cold. Cold as death.

You squeeze your eyes shut again. This is it.

I don't want to die.

Yes, you do.

No, I don't.

Yes. You do. You're just too chicken shit to go through with it.

Please. Don't..

Die for something. Or live for nothing.

You snap your eyes open again. Jason's vanished. You're alone. You look back down to your hands. They're clean. But you can still feel the guilt soaked into your palms. Heavy. Thick.

Hey, you.

You look up again.


She nods towards the bus exit. Get off the bus.

You shake your head. It doesn't hurt here. Nothing matters here. You're sick of everything mattering, regardless how much you try to make everything not matter. You're sick of fighting. You're sick of guilt and pain.

Amber stares you. Then she turns her eyes towards the windows on your side of the bus. You follow her gaze and look out.

Thirteen. She's waiting for you outside. She's waiting for you to get off the bus.

You stand. You walk down the aisle, through Amber as she fades away into an invisible ghost again. You step out into the light, so bright it's blinding. Thirteen approaches you. She takes your hand.

Look out, she says.

You turn your head. You see the barrel of a gun right in your face. The trigger is squeezed.


end of sleep phase

You jerk awake. Drenched in sweat. Heart racing. Sheets tangled around your legs. You look around wildly, frantic, terrified.

Your room, your realise. You're in your room. You just had a bad dream. That was all. A bad dream.

You slump back to the pillow and swallow. Mouth dry. So dry. Pulse thundering in your head. Every muscle trembling slightly with the rush of adrenalin.

You're okay. You're okay, Greg. You're safe.

You turn your head on the pillow to look at the clock. 4.12AM. The dream is already fading from your mind, leaving only fragments behind. You close your eyes and drew in a deep breath. You're okay. You're safe from harm. Everything is behind you now.

You're going to be okay.


[identity profile] austen.livejournal.com 2008-11-27 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Stream of consciousness really works for this. I'm glad you wrote it. :)

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks so much, babe ♥

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:44 am (UTC)(link)

[identity profile] leakey-lover.livejournal.com 2008-11-27 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Good to know.


[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks :-)

[identity profile] bammel.livejournal.com 2008-11-27 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Thanks for tackling this. I mean, he has to be a total mess, ahaha.

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:45 am (UTC)(link)
You'd THINK so, hey? I plan to write more because OMG. SO MUCH FODDER, SO LITTLE DEAL.

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:45 am (UTC)(link)
♥ ♥ ♥!!

[identity profile] phinnia.livejournal.com 2008-11-27 09:35 pm (UTC)(link)
omgomgomg. this is SO AMAZING - i love the stream of consciousness, the different sleep phases, and the images are so VIVID. <3

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:46 am (UTC)(link)
Eee, I am glad the stream of consciousness worked. I wasn't sure if it would for anyone else besides me because *I* knew what I meant with all of this, but I wasn't sure if it would come across that way.

So, yay!

Thanks for reading, babe ♥

[identity profile] daasgrrl.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
I'm glad you wrote this. If only because when patient guy burst in with the gun I was all omg Moriarty Mk II and thinking about whether House was going to have flashbacks and trauma about it happening again, and... nope, nothing. Then I thought they might just be up to the recycling ideas stage XD

Anyway - cool fic, and I like the style and sections.

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:48 am (UTC)(link)
THIS. Ahahahaha, I was like, "OH GOD, FINALLY WE GET TO SEE SOME FALLOUT FROM WHEN HE WAS SHOT--- oh." Lol seriously. I don't even really know why the writers even bothered with him getting shot in 'No Reason' cos like... hello, major traumatic event? Cause and consequence, people!

Thanks for reading!

[identity profile] wanderlonely.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 04:07 am (UTC)(link)
So beautiful.

::hugs you and this fic::

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:48 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks, babe ♥

[identity profile] shutterbug-12.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
Ooooh, this is great. Loved the style. Very fitting for the nature of this, what this was about. Maybe the blood on your hands is hers. That was my favorite line, I think, and really opened up the topic of House's guilt. Really nice job.

[identity profile] ticcyyy.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:50 am (UTC)(link)
Like I said to Phin up above - I wasn't sure if this style was going to work for anyone besides me, because *I* knew what I meant with all of this, but wasn't sure if that would transpose for others. So yay!

And yeah. That is one of my favourite lines, too, because it bunnies me to want to write more into House/Amber and Wilson and all of House's thoughts and guilt about that.

Thanks for reading, bb. ♥

[identity profile] lenina20.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)
This is absolutely amazing. Hugely clever and beautifully written. I absolutely loved it! Thanks for sharing!

[identity profile] just-schtupp.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)

[identity profile] just-schtupp.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Godddddd. This was incredible.

[identity profile] annalully.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 04:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Fantastic. The stream of consciousness is actually one of my favorite styles, I like to lock myself inside the character's mind.

This is painfully real - and someone needed to write it, I'm glad it was you! <3

A lot of fans seem to be upset because House gave the gun back to the guy, but I was already so befuddled about the lack of memory from ALL of them about No Reason, and pretty much every other disaster in House's life, that the gun was just a smaller inconvenience. Why, oh, why those people can't have memories?

Actually, maybe that's why House does not have PTSD, you need to remember about things to be able to be affected...

[identity profile] cindy-lou-who8.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)

[identity profile] 2801rosie.livejournal.com 2008-11-28 10:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you for filling in what the writers obviously left out. The man has to be traumatized in some way.
Great Job!

[identity profile] joe-pike-junior.livejournal.com 2008-11-29 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
So much silence. So silent, it's deafening. Like white noise.

Cool, very cool. The sleep phases give it just the right amount of structure.

[identity profile] crumpled-up.livejournal.com 2008-12-01 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
I love new styles, especially stream of consciousness. I love the way they turn out with how rapid everything changes and it always puts you right there. I especially love the struggle with living and dying, the same as Thirteen. Love it. But the part that got me the most was Amber telling House to get off the bus because Thirteen is waiting.

And THANK YOU for this. I've been going insane with the fact that House hasn't had any repercussions of having a gun shoved in his face twice now (although Jason was shoving it in House's face quite a bit in the last ep).


[identity profile] geelady.livejournal.com 2008-12-31 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
I too was annoyed as hell by the slack lack post House gun-shot ep'.
This fic' filled the space very well.
I wonder though what they're planning with the rumors going around that it will be "Something better than "Who Shot JR?"."

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