Not Everybody Lies

Chapter 1 - Here They Are Again

Here she was again.

Same room, same furniture - it was kind of hard to see it with all the dust settled on it but it, but if she looked carefully enough she could see it was the same one - same crappy view of Princeton - hell - there even was an old pair of her shoes on the floor next to the couch.

My favorites, she thought as she realized that under the dust and cobwebs were her black and red pumps, the ones she bought almost a decade ago for the most important interview of her life, from a life time ago.

Same everything and yet… Yet nothing is the same, she realized as Dylan, crawled around her legs to the couch. She picked her son up and setting him on the couch she let her eyes scan the room.

She wasn't the same anymore either - much older now than she was back in the days, much wiser - she would like to think - more heartbroken ...

No, it really wasn't the same - not the room, not her life and certainly not her.

And how could she be when he wasn't there anymore, being the biggest ass and biggest genius the world's ever seen? She couldn't… she never did, not without him.

Even when he wasn't around, when she'd moved on with her life to a new husband, a new life and motherhood, he was there, somewhere at the back of her mind and at the front of her heart - right next to her son and no matter how many times she tried to rip him out of there he always staied.

Not now though…

Not for the last five months…

And not ever… because no matter how many she tried to tell herself different - and God only knew she tried - he died. He had chosen the coward's way out and died. Well no, actually, he didn't just die… he, the only one she truly ever loved apart from her son, had killed himself, like the world's biggest fucking coward.

"Dool…" Dylan squeaked happily making her snap out of her twisted thoughts - they were always twisted when she was thinking of him and yet she cherished them just like she cherished Dylan or his fist word or first smile, because she had nothing else left of him, of the man she loved with all of her heart, but for her thoughts no matter how sick and twisted they were - "Mammy, dool…"

She looked at her son for a second, noting his big smile and bright blue eyes - even her son's eyes made her think of him, of the sky blue of his eyes, of the mean gleam that she used to see there when he wanted to hurt or the bright sparkle that a new mystery always brought on.

Stop thinking of House, you moron!

There was a knock on the door - probably what Dylan was trying to point at as her thoughts circled around the two most important persons in her life.

She knew deep-deep down she should stop, she should concentrate on the one person still alive, still in her life, but how could she? She still loved him, that fucking bastard that ripped her heart time and again, that racked her marriage and happiness, that made her more damaged than she was and still… God, did she love him!

Another knock…

Answer the door Allison, her mind screamed and she finally she listened. She shook herself out of all thoughts of House, of a love and a happiness that had never been meant for her and went to answer the door.

---

Here he was again.

Same room, same furniture - it was kind of hard to see it with all the dust settled on it but it, but there was no doubt it was the same - same crappy view of Princeton - hell - there even was an half-empty bottle of Vicodin on the dusty old coffee table.

Strange, he thought as he realized that the dust and cobwebs all over his old apartment meant that Dominika - God, and I once thought I was starting to fall for her? Idiot! - had been long gone, I thought she'd stay… bring her new boyfriend or husband or fuck-buddy or whatever - she owns the place after all!

Same everything and yet… Yet nothing is the same, he realized as he threw himself face down on the couch, inhaling what seemed like almost five months of dust on the covers and scattering some crawling bugs he didn't want to think of just yet.

Did she leave immediately after? He smirked. Yeah, there's your marital bliss for you! Or is it just me? Fuck it - I don't care!

Well, the truth was he didn't cared about anything or wanted to think at all for that matter - not today… not tomorrow… maybe not ever. But certainly not on his last day of either freedom or life - depending on how the coin should fall later when he'd let fate chose his future.

There was a third option of course, there always was one with him, but right now he couldn't - wouldn't - consider it… no, he had to do the right thing - and the third choice wasn't exactly right. At least this once… he needed to do the right thing. For him, for his best friend, he needed to stop playing dead and face life, just as he'd asked it of him.

But could he?

I've no idea!

The doorbell rang and he groaned… It was going to be hell and maybe even worst getting up, especially with almost two days of walking and riding and walking some more, and even some carrying scattered around there but…

I still have my happy pills, he smiled into the dusty cover of the couch, and there's always my stash. Yeah, he was set… for now at least.

"Who is it," he shouted by the fifth rang, when he was up, happy and pain free with a double dose of Vicodins cruising through in his system.