Brain Damage, 6/20 - Custody
Mar. 31st, 2011 11:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Brain Damage
Spoilers: End of season 4
Summary: Deep brain stimulation is a dangerous procedure. What if House’s brain had been damaged? Twenty chapters.
Rating: NC-17 (M)
Word Count: 21000 approx.
Disclaimer: we own nothing, not even a functioning brain.
Author's note: many thanks to my incredibly efficient and supportive beta reader,
coconut_ice22. This fic is a very expanded version of a one/shot of mine, Almost Like A Child. The userpic is courtesy of
luridlurker and comes from this manip.
Warning: brief non-graphic mention of child abuse. You can avoid it and still follow the fic by scrolling down and reading just the end of the Chapter.
Back to chapter 5
Chapter 6 - Custody
Wilson was nervous. He tried to convince himself that he felt weird because, after many months of jeans, sweatpants and t-shirts, he was now wearing a suit and tie again, and he had even blow dried his hair as he used to do. House looked almost fake in his own suit; he had decided to skip the tie after four unsuccessful attempts to make his friend accept it. So far everything had gone well: most witnesses had been in his favor. And the medical assessment of House was really flattering, claiming that his mental recovery had progressed above expectations.
It was almost over: soon it would be his turn, then House's father's, and then they would view some taped version of House's declaration, since he had been declared fit only for questioning by a psychologist who had screened questions provided by both lawyers. House's mother was absent. Apparently she was sick. When he heard his name called he squeezed House's hand and walked slowly but with steady steps to the witness' stand.
"Dr. Wilson, why are you requesting custody of Gregory House?"
"Because I believe I am in the best position to help him regain health and happiness, at least as much as possible to him in the current situation."
"Why would you want to do that?"
"He is my best friend, and he has been for the last 16 years. He has always been there for me when I needed help. He obviously shared this viewpoint, since he explicitly requested that I be awarded custody."
"Can we assume that you didn't have undue ways to put him under pressure? We know there were problems with his Vicodin prescriptions last year."
"I was his physician because he trusted me. I prescribed him painkillers since he needed them to overcome his physical handicap. Lately he has led a less stressful life, so he can manage with a more varied pain management regimen."
"Is it true that you considered him responsible for the death of your girlfriend, Dr. Amber Volakis?"
"In my immediate grief I certainly regretted that she had offered to join him on the bus of the accident, thus eventually losing her life. But he cannot in any logical sense be held responsible. It was a series of unfortunate events that brought her to an untimely death."
"Is it true that you forced him to undergo deep brain stimulation in the hope of his remembering something that could save Volakis' life?"
"No, I didn't force him. However, I did ask him to. And he agreed. The documents at this court's disposal show how deeply aware he was of the risk involved." He knew this question would be asked. He remained upright. But he felt his skin become pale, and his lips quiver. He knew House was listening, straining to understand.
"Why did you ask him, if it was so dangerous and he was such a close friend?"
"I thought if he did it, they would both survive unharmed. I was doubly wrong."
"How long have you been sexually attracted by Gregory House?"
His lawyer jumped up. "Objection, your Honor!"
"Let me rephrase the question. Do you now, or did you in the past, experience sexual attraction towards Gregory House?"
He felt naked. Felt like the day when his father found him with his friend whom he was supposed to help with his chemistry homework. He remembered the shouts, the tears, the sound of the belt. He fought back: he was prepared, he wouldn't fail. "I am bisexual and I do and did notice that Gregory House is a handsome, attractive man. However, he never showed any interest in me physically, and I would have found it disrespectful to even allow myself to think about him in this sense. Even though so much about him as changed, my attitude of respect hasn't."
Whispers went through the room as a wind. He wondered whether saying the truth had been such a brilliant idea after all. But he knew that he didn't want to lie, not when House was present and listening, however much or however little he might understand.
“You said you are bisexual, however, you were never open about this. How come you are saying this now?”
“I think my sexual orientation is private, but I understand that in such a case it may be considered relevant.”
“Is it true that you have profited of your position of power in the hospital to force nurses to have sex with you?”
“I have had consensual physical relationships with hospital personnel in the past, but never with anyone in my own Department or over whom I had any power or control. Otherwise I would have filed corresponding paperwork at HR, following the hospital’s guidelines.”
“So you are sure that your request for custody does not stem from a desire to take advantage sexually of Dr. House’s impaired mental status, as you took advantage of the nurses’ lower power status?”
“Objection!”
“Question retreated.”
He was relieved to see that he could leave the witness' stand.
House's father’s interrogation he basically missed, so concentrated he was on calming himself down. He heard how his lawyer brought his friend's father to describe some of the "educational" methods he had used in the past, and express his scorn for his son's choice of career and failed life.
Then someone entered, and gave a note to the judge. He read it, and motioned everyone to sit down. "Mrs House is absent for medical reasons. She requested the possibility of having a registered declaration by her heard, and I have granted her request."
A screen went on, and Blythe's face filled it. She had a small sheet of paper in front, and was reading it without looking at the camera. "Your honor, John, James, my dear Greg, my cardiologist has said I can't be present today without risking my health. I hope I will be allowed to state my opinion in this matter. I love my son; I was a homemaker, and took good care of him as he was growing up. And now that he needs help again, my heart's desire is that I be the one to provide him."
The woman on the screen closed the sheet of paper. Tear-filled blue eyes stared at the onlookers. "But I'm 73. I have heart problems, My husband is 80, and has prostate cancer. How long and how well could we really care for Greg? It is therefore my opinion that my son's interests would be best served if his custody is given to his friend James Wilson, as Greg himself requested when still able to think for himself."
Wilson felt like his heart had stopped. John House was shouting, and his lawyer was trying to calm him down before the judge would order him out of the room. Everybody present seemed to be talking to everyone else. He remembered his own short conversation with Blythe three days earlier, his statement "I'll care for him, hopefully, into his old age." His assurance that he would devote himself to House entirely. He hadn't needed to say that in his final declaration: the Jury had a copy of his severance contract, already signed and valid under the proviso that custody be granted. But she had believed him, apparently, without seeing any document, just by looking into him with her eyes so similar to her son's.
The screen went on again, and this time, there was House's face on it. The real person, sitting near him, seemed almost frightened, and kept his eyes on his own lap. "My name is Gregory House. This I can remember. I cannot remember very much else. I know I cannot live on my own; I have forgotten too much for that. I do remember from before my accident that Jimmy, that is James Wilson, is my friend. I can remember that he cares for me and wants my happiness. And even if I couldn't remember, I would know now, since he has been caring for me every day since I left the hospital. He is always with me, and I trust him. I want to stay with him forever."
The Jury retired, and everybody left the room. He immediately steered House to a comfortable corner, where two nurses had been strategically occupying a chair and a comfortable armchair, waiting for them; this way House could sit down and rest his leg, putting his right ankle on a pillow on Wilson's knee. The nurses also had food, drink, House's medication and his PSP; everything Wilson had prepared.
"Thank you very much Doris, Jenny." Each of them hugged him in turn, tears in their eyes.
"Oncology is no longer the same without you."
"And today Cuddy leaked out news of your severance agreement. Oncology will definitely never be the same again. We will miss you Dr. Wilson:"
"It's a bit early to say, isn't it? The Jury is still out."
"We are all sure that you are not coming back. We're sad, but we know this is what you choose."
"A choice we admire. Even if it is against our interest."
They sat there together, drank tea, ate chocolate chip cookies, and remembered long forgotten anecdotes. Until the gong sounded. "Remember Dr. Wilson, we're the only two on leave today, but the whole Department is with you right now!"
When they were back in the room, they stood as the Jury entered. Their President handed a sheet of paper to the Judge, who started reading a number of legal formulas. And then the booming voice was making a simple, clear statement "Custody of Gregory House is therefore permanently granted to Dr. James Evan Wilson."
He turned around and hugged House tightly. Then he looked at him and said "And now I'll be with you forever, as you wanted," all his thoughts lost in House's impossibly large smile.
To Chapter 7
Spoilers: End of season 4
Summary: Deep brain stimulation is a dangerous procedure. What if House’s brain had been damaged? Twenty chapters.
Rating: NC-17 (M)
Word Count: 21000 approx.
Disclaimer: we own nothing, not even a functioning brain.
Author's note: many thanks to my incredibly efficient and supportive beta reader,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Warning: brief non-graphic mention of child abuse. You can avoid it and still follow the fic by scrolling down and reading just the end of the Chapter.
Back to chapter 5
Chapter 6 - Custody
Wilson was nervous. He tried to convince himself that he felt weird because, after many months of jeans, sweatpants and t-shirts, he was now wearing a suit and tie again, and he had even blow dried his hair as he used to do. House looked almost fake in his own suit; he had decided to skip the tie after four unsuccessful attempts to make his friend accept it. So far everything had gone well: most witnesses had been in his favor. And the medical assessment of House was really flattering, claiming that his mental recovery had progressed above expectations.
It was almost over: soon it would be his turn, then House's father's, and then they would view some taped version of House's declaration, since he had been declared fit only for questioning by a psychologist who had screened questions provided by both lawyers. House's mother was absent. Apparently she was sick. When he heard his name called he squeezed House's hand and walked slowly but with steady steps to the witness' stand.
"Dr. Wilson, why are you requesting custody of Gregory House?"
"Because I believe I am in the best position to help him regain health and happiness, at least as much as possible to him in the current situation."
"Why would you want to do that?"
"He is my best friend, and he has been for the last 16 years. He has always been there for me when I needed help. He obviously shared this viewpoint, since he explicitly requested that I be awarded custody."
"Can we assume that you didn't have undue ways to put him under pressure? We know there were problems with his Vicodin prescriptions last year."
"I was his physician because he trusted me. I prescribed him painkillers since he needed them to overcome his physical handicap. Lately he has led a less stressful life, so he can manage with a more varied pain management regimen."
"Is it true that you considered him responsible for the death of your girlfriend, Dr. Amber Volakis?"
"In my immediate grief I certainly regretted that she had offered to join him on the bus of the accident, thus eventually losing her life. But he cannot in any logical sense be held responsible. It was a series of unfortunate events that brought her to an untimely death."
"Is it true that you forced him to undergo deep brain stimulation in the hope of his remembering something that could save Volakis' life?"
"No, I didn't force him. However, I did ask him to. And he agreed. The documents at this court's disposal show how deeply aware he was of the risk involved." He knew this question would be asked. He remained upright. But he felt his skin become pale, and his lips quiver. He knew House was listening, straining to understand.
"Why did you ask him, if it was so dangerous and he was such a close friend?"
"I thought if he did it, they would both survive unharmed. I was doubly wrong."
"How long have you been sexually attracted by Gregory House?"
His lawyer jumped up. "Objection, your Honor!"
"Let me rephrase the question. Do you now, or did you in the past, experience sexual attraction towards Gregory House?"
He felt naked. Felt like the day when his father found him with his friend whom he was supposed to help with his chemistry homework. He remembered the shouts, the tears, the sound of the belt. He fought back: he was prepared, he wouldn't fail. "I am bisexual and I do and did notice that Gregory House is a handsome, attractive man. However, he never showed any interest in me physically, and I would have found it disrespectful to even allow myself to think about him in this sense. Even though so much about him as changed, my attitude of respect hasn't."
Whispers went through the room as a wind. He wondered whether saying the truth had been such a brilliant idea after all. But he knew that he didn't want to lie, not when House was present and listening, however much or however little he might understand.
“You said you are bisexual, however, you were never open about this. How come you are saying this now?”
“I think my sexual orientation is private, but I understand that in such a case it may be considered relevant.”
“Is it true that you have profited of your position of power in the hospital to force nurses to have sex with you?”
“I have had consensual physical relationships with hospital personnel in the past, but never with anyone in my own Department or over whom I had any power or control. Otherwise I would have filed corresponding paperwork at HR, following the hospital’s guidelines.”
“So you are sure that your request for custody does not stem from a desire to take advantage sexually of Dr. House’s impaired mental status, as you took advantage of the nurses’ lower power status?”
“Objection!”
“Question retreated.”
He was relieved to see that he could leave the witness' stand.
House's father’s interrogation he basically missed, so concentrated he was on calming himself down. He heard how his lawyer brought his friend's father to describe some of the "educational" methods he had used in the past, and express his scorn for his son's choice of career and failed life.
Then someone entered, and gave a note to the judge. He read it, and motioned everyone to sit down. "Mrs House is absent for medical reasons. She requested the possibility of having a registered declaration by her heard, and I have granted her request."
A screen went on, and Blythe's face filled it. She had a small sheet of paper in front, and was reading it without looking at the camera. "Your honor, John, James, my dear Greg, my cardiologist has said I can't be present today without risking my health. I hope I will be allowed to state my opinion in this matter. I love my son; I was a homemaker, and took good care of him as he was growing up. And now that he needs help again, my heart's desire is that I be the one to provide him."
The woman on the screen closed the sheet of paper. Tear-filled blue eyes stared at the onlookers. "But I'm 73. I have heart problems, My husband is 80, and has prostate cancer. How long and how well could we really care for Greg? It is therefore my opinion that my son's interests would be best served if his custody is given to his friend James Wilson, as Greg himself requested when still able to think for himself."
Wilson felt like his heart had stopped. John House was shouting, and his lawyer was trying to calm him down before the judge would order him out of the room. Everybody present seemed to be talking to everyone else. He remembered his own short conversation with Blythe three days earlier, his statement "I'll care for him, hopefully, into his old age." His assurance that he would devote himself to House entirely. He hadn't needed to say that in his final declaration: the Jury had a copy of his severance contract, already signed and valid under the proviso that custody be granted. But she had believed him, apparently, without seeing any document, just by looking into him with her eyes so similar to her son's.
The screen went on again, and this time, there was House's face on it. The real person, sitting near him, seemed almost frightened, and kept his eyes on his own lap. "My name is Gregory House. This I can remember. I cannot remember very much else. I know I cannot live on my own; I have forgotten too much for that. I do remember from before my accident that Jimmy, that is James Wilson, is my friend. I can remember that he cares for me and wants my happiness. And even if I couldn't remember, I would know now, since he has been caring for me every day since I left the hospital. He is always with me, and I trust him. I want to stay with him forever."
The Jury retired, and everybody left the room. He immediately steered House to a comfortable corner, where two nurses had been strategically occupying a chair and a comfortable armchair, waiting for them; this way House could sit down and rest his leg, putting his right ankle on a pillow on Wilson's knee. The nurses also had food, drink, House's medication and his PSP; everything Wilson had prepared.
"Thank you very much Doris, Jenny." Each of them hugged him in turn, tears in their eyes.
"Oncology is no longer the same without you."
"And today Cuddy leaked out news of your severance agreement. Oncology will definitely never be the same again. We will miss you Dr. Wilson:"
"It's a bit early to say, isn't it? The Jury is still out."
"We are all sure that you are not coming back. We're sad, but we know this is what you choose."
"A choice we admire. Even if it is against our interest."
They sat there together, drank tea, ate chocolate chip cookies, and remembered long forgotten anecdotes. Until the gong sounded. "Remember Dr. Wilson, we're the only two on leave today, but the whole Department is with you right now!"
When they were back in the room, they stood as the Jury entered. Their President handed a sheet of paper to the Judge, who started reading a number of legal formulas. And then the booming voice was making a simple, clear statement "Custody of Gregory House is therefore permanently granted to Dr. James Evan Wilson."
He turned around and hugged House tightly. Then he looked at him and said "And now I'll be with you forever, as you wanted," all his thoughts lost in House's impossibly large smile.
To Chapter 7
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Date: 2011-03-31 03:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-31 04:04 pm (UTC)