C&P from Cuddy's locked post
Mar. 17th, 2008 12:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
more_flexible[ Detoxing; for Jack. ]
[ dated to December 29th, evening/nighttime. ]
It had been days. Longer than days, really, but Lisa wasn't in the habit of nitpicking in these kinds of situations. All she knew was that, according to her last conversation with Jack, House was currently out of Vicodin. The rumors flying about the clinic regarding House's last - and very recent - appearance were exactly what she'd expected, and..it was time.
The wind was still biting cold against her face, and she tugged her scarf tighter around her throat as the hut came into view. Her gloved fingers curled lightly into a fist, and she knocked twice. Not loud enough to wake House if he was fortunate enough to sleep - she knew House could sleep through a ringing phone sixteen times over if so inclined - but loud enough to catch Jack's attention. Jack, whose senses flared like an animal on the prowl, either in the throes of an attack or the presence of defense. The knocking died softly like the conclusion of a melody in the surrounding air.
And she waited.
It took a couple minutes, but the lock slid open and Jack looked out of just a crack in the door. "Hold on," he said, then closed it. He grabbed his coat and had it in his hands as he stepped outside, his body blocking any view inside.
Even in the darkness, he looked haggard. His hair was a mess and he smelled of sweat and sickness that wasn't him. It just clung to him.
And yet, he was still Jack. "Hey, pretty lady," he said quietly.
She didn't rise to the usual line of greeting. Normally, Lisa would have flashed a sparkling smile and said something - Hey, yourself - in sweet tones that made him smile, too. And from there, things would be fine. Not this time.
The ground crunched quietly beneath her feet, and her arms found their way around him. He reeked, stunk horribly of perspiration and the scent that cloyed one's nostrils when they were confined too long to their bed. Had there been a hint of sterilization in the air, it could have been the intensive care ward at Princeton-Plainsboro, but there was nothing along those lines to be found.
Still, she held on for a good while, her chilled skin warming to the heat of his neck. When she drew back, her eyes saw not his, but instead the tired lines on his face.
"How is he?"
"Bad. Worse than either of us expected," he replied flatly. "And it's not getting any better. A lot of pain, and I'm going to get whiplash from how fast his moods change."
Jack held onto her firmly, desperate for any gentle touch. He'd had a moment of weakness last night with Daniel. The passing hours between then and now had only made it worse, made him crave one kind word, any sweet look. He figured out quickly he wasn't going to get the standard dance from Lisa.
"...How are you? I missed telling you Merry Christmas."
The thread of desperation wasn't lost on her, and it eased the vicelike grasp around her heart. How long it had been there she wasn't sure, but Lisa figured it had started slowly when the situation with House had been brought to her attention. Things like this could destroy a person, and not just the one in pain. It was never easy.
Her fingeres smoothed up his back, along the tension there, and she kept him close enough so that, despite the cold, he could probably feel it. Winter had a way of chilling, biting off all sensation until the world was numb, but she was still warm and she'd pass that on to him. Her eyes softened on his face, and she let herself smile. Let herself relax enough to look at him the way she would have on any other night.
"Well, there's now, so Merry Christmas, Jack. And as for me, I'm fine. I've just been keeping to the clinic, waiting for all of this." She knew he didn't need further clarification, and she didn't want to dredge all that up. But her fingers did move upwards, through his hair and against the back of his neck.
"How long has he been this way?"
"He took the last he had on Christmas. So...not too long after that. A few hours, I guess, before he started to shake." He was so clinical, so precise in the repetition of facts. Nothing about the last desperate time they'd taken advantage of Greg's general lack of pain. Nothing about how the shakes became chills, how Jack had held him until he got pushed away. Nothing about how Greg had been pushing him away a little bit at a time since then.
"Yesterday he said he needed to go to the clinic. I cleaned up, but then..." Jack stopped, swallowed hard, and looked away. "I...he's...what can I tell you? You know how this goes."
He was right, she did know. Lisa knew how this had gone in the past, and could draw a fairly accurate portrait - a mural, really - of just how things had been going for Jack. The difference was, Lisa hadn't gone through it alone. There was a whole hospital, other people - Stacy - all sorts of others to fill in the blanks, pick up the slack, take blows if she herself had become too bruised to handle another - all figuratively speaking, of course. But Jack was adamant on doing this alone, and it wasn't any wonder he was wearing down.
"He's driving you away," she said, and there was knowing in her voice. She made no move to force him to look at her, instead traced the backs of her fingers along the line of his jaw. Was he tense? It didn't surprise her that he would be. Lisa stroked there lightly once or twice, not breaking contact. It was as much for his benefit as hers, but she wouldn't voice that aloud.
He flashed a weak, hollow smile and shook his head. "Takes more than that to get rid of me," he said, trying for light and hitting somewhere around hopeless. But, God, her hand was too soft and the way she was touching him so delicately made him lean into it, aching for more.
He didn't have any gloves on, so reaching inside her coat to hold her waist lightly helped keep them warm. Helped keep him stable.
She didn't pull away, instead let him draw her as close as he wanted. For all that Jack was trying to do himself, he couldn't keep himself warm. Couldn't bring a caress to his own cheek in a gesture of it's not all right now, but it will be, couldn't look himself in the eyes without the cold, impersonal presence of a mirror. This, she could do. And this she would, without hesitation.
"I know," she said gently, her voice as tender as the palm that cupped his cheek, the fingertip that brushed across his lips, now slightly chilled from the cold. "I know, you aren't going to walk away from him. He knows it, too."
"I promised," he said under his breath, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, mostly because he couldn't take her looking at him like that. He was better than this. He could do what it took. He could be strong. He could hold anyone up, rather than let them fall.
And yet, here he was holding on to the one person who knew. Knew, more than anyone else, just what Jack's limits were. Where exactly it was that he shut off, disconnected. When he gave up.
"Lisa," he whispered, seeking her mouth, looking for anything. Any touch. Any warmth that had little to do with the cold of the night.
Her name on his lips sent a warm, sweet ache into her chest, and Lisa couldn't deny him. It wasn't just that she wouldn't, but that she refused to. It was so easy to tilt her chin upwards, let her lips, slightly parted, meet his. He was so cold, even when she'd known him to be nothing but warm. From the first time she'd actually seen him, taken the time to speak to him, she had always thought of Jack as warm. Now, she'd give almost anything to bring that warmth back.
Her fingers clutched softly, not roughly at all, to the back of his neck, and she kissed him. It was so easy to draw him to her, silently coax him to fit against her. And his hands beneath her coat, against the fabric and her own skin, were warming. She could feel it, almost imagined she could feel the cold knot that must be inside his chest easing.
Slipping her arm downwards just enough, she pulled him closer and left little to no room for protest.
His lips parted and he kissed her deeply, his tongue moving insistantly against hers. She was willing and he was so tired of holding back. As she pulled him closer, his hand moved down to the hem of her blouse, then under and up, caressing bare skin, fingers ghosting over her bra.
He took a step, turned a little, and he had her back against the wall of the cabin. He wasn't forcing anything, just focused. The need was palpable, and it wasn't even sex. He just needed to touch her, be touched by her, to hear her voice soft against his skin. He needed to be able to make someone feel good.
The movement didn't startle her, because his need was so great. Some people in the world thrived on sex - on the act itself, not what came from it. But with Jack, it had always been about the tenderness. The emotion, the feeling, something more. When he touched her, it was all she could ever feel.
His fingers against her skin pushed a soft, willing sigh from her lips, and Lisa let her mouth drift just slightly from his, enough to let "Jack.." slip into the air between them. She tilted her head back to meet his, taking in his breath, giving him her own. Her hands moved down his sides, returning the touch and warming his skin. It was so easy to touch that way, to feel his want against her, and from there to let herself kiss him again.
He could finally breathe. He could feel it all over himself, the strength returning. The fragile balance of being strong for Greg and pushing his own feelings down was shattered and he suddenly had what he needed to go on. His name in the night, her body responding to his hands purely reflexively. He kissed her hard, then gentle, pulling at her lips and tasting her tongue once more before moving away to her neck.
Jack nudged her chin up with his nose and carved a trail of warm kisses down her throat, holding her close, kneading her breasts, teasing her nipples, cupping her ass and pulling her to him tighter.
When he got to her ear, he sucked softly on her earlobe, swam in the scent of her hair and her...just her. He could do this, make her feel better, and together--
Yeah. Because she knew what he needed. What she'd agreed to before didn't matter now.
"Lisa," he whispered breathlessly, kissing her again beneath er ear before her purred softly, "Give me the Vicodin."
God, it was so easy. They could just let go, that way, together. And everything would be all right - all those thoughts rushed over and over through her mind with the consistency of soft wind in a breaking, new morning. His hands were so familiar, he was giving himself up so slowly, and everything was going to be all right, just..
Give me the Vicodin.
Four little words, and yet they were enough to snap her eyes open. Enough to make her heart skip, then accelerate like a rabbit's frightened pulse beneath her skin. Because he didn't mean it, did he? After what he had said, after what she'd promised and done..did he?
"..Jack." Her shoulders had gone tense, but she didn't push him back. She wouldn't...at least she didn't think so.
"Give it to me," he said a little louder, his hands still moving, skimming over every part of her body he knew so well. Knew well enough to make her moan, make her go boneless. He touched her everywhere he knew would get her to say yes.
"Please," he added, kissing her throat again, one hand trailing up her back, tracing her scars. "I need it, Lisa. I know what I asked, but that was before I knew how bad it would be. Just...just two. Not all of them. Just two," he said in the same voice he used to tell her she was beautiful, the same tone he recited poetry to her. Soft. Low. Gentle.
Manipulative.
It would have been so easy because he hadn't been this close in so long, and it wasn't any secret how she felt about him. For over a year now, Lisa had been in love with Jack, had wanted this, had wanted him, and now that it was here...and that voice...
But it wasn't her that he wanted. It wasn't her, it was the pills. He was using...
Hot tears sprang to her eyes, but they were blessedly closed and she could shove them back to a place for later before opening them. Her hands lifted again, bracing against his shoulders, and she pushed him back. Pushed him back and away from her, lifting her chin to look up into his face. The warmth was gone, her features tight and sharp with anger in her eyes. As sharp as her voice.
"Get away from me."
It took him a second to snap out of it, for realization to hit him. If it had been about sex, if she'd said no to that, he'd have taken it in stride. But, no. He should have known better. She knew him well enough to catch on to what he was doing. How he had seperated his feelings for her from his duty. His promise.
The anger started in his gut, a white hot rage spreading through his whole body, tensing his shoulders, balling his fists, twisting his face into a mask of ugly anger.
"JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING PILLS, LISA!" he yelled, and he clearly didn't care who heard him.
Her eyes widened, but blessedly she didn't recoil and later Lisa would realize it wasn't out of any present state of resolve but because her back was against the hut of the wall and consequently held firm and straight. She didn't have anywhere to go, and because of that - and more - she stood her ground.
And she was angry. So angry that her face hardened and she glared right back at him, resolute and unmoving.
"I'm not giving you the pills, Jack! And there isn't a damned thing you can do to change my mind. So if that's the only reason you're here, you can forget it. Hear me? Forget it, Jack."
Jack raised his arm and leaned in, but it only hit the wall above her shoulder, bracing him there. "Tell me where they are," he sneered, angrier than he had been in...he couldn't remember the last time. Maybe when he'd near'y killed Wilson, but even that wasn't like this. He needed them. He needed to help Greg and he was running out of options.
"He needs to sleep. I can't help him. I can't fix it and I can't stop it. You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't need..."
God, she was so beautiful. Stronger than most people knew. He'd been far too right to ask her to keep them. He should have known there was no way she'd back down.
"Lisa...please," he asked again as the anger dissipated as quickly as it had rose. Fuck...he wasn't just taking care of Greg through this. He was starting to do the same things.
His anger hurt her in a way she hadn't expected it to. The knowledge that Jack was capable of violence, of hate, was one thing but seeing those things and hearing them angled solely at her in the calm, cool quiet of the forest, was completely different. It made her heart ache, and that aching was what grounded her.
She stayed quiet as he spoke, as he yelled, and only spoke when his anger began to fade. When the realization of what he was asking her, what he was doing and how he was doing it began to flicker in his eyes like small flashes of light.
And she shook her head. Once, slowly, firmly. "No, Jack. I'm not giving you those pills, and no one else knows where they are. And that's how it's going to stay." Her voice was again just as firm as the shake of her head. Giving House more medication was only going to stop the process and lead to it starting all over again. Jack knew this, but right now he wasn't thinking - he was only feeling. She'd have to do the thinking for him right now. And that was something she could do.
"Lisa, please," he repeated, more desperate, the full weight of his fear and worry rushing over him, taking his breath away and cutting his legs out from under him. He didn't have anything left to twist her to his will, he barely had enough to keep himself together.
He sank to his knees in the snow, the hand on the wall dragging down her coat until he could only grip the bottom and look up at her with hot tears running down his face. "I'm begging you. Please, Lisa. I can't watch him like this every single day and not be able to fix it."
His voice was gone, just a whisper left as he dropped his head to her stomach and clung to her.
"Please..."
The tears she'd been willing back, shoving to some other place, all came rushing forward and it was all she could do to keep them from coming at the same time. Because it was happening to Jack - she could remember times like these in years past - and there was nothing to do. Nothing to do but wait it out.
"Jack." His name managed its way past her lips, burrowed itself into his hair with the downward fall of her head. Her hands moved, and then her arms were around him, pulling him to her. Leaning down meant she had to bend a little at the waist but she didn't mind it, and she clutched him to her. Tightly, fiercely, pulling him in against her and away from the storm that was begging at his heels to let it in.
"You're doing the right thing. It doesn't feel like it and no one else is going to tell you it is, but you're fixing it, Jack." Her lips found his hair and stayed there, against the ghost of warm skin and the brushing softness where she said his name again. Lisa wasn't going to fall to pieces and cry, not like this and not now when he was the one that needed her. Her arms were tight and strong, and she held him with his head against her stomach, the tears soaking her jacket.
"He keeps getting worse," he sobbed, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Lisa, I can't do this. I thought I could. I swore I could. But I can't."
He'd kept up the lie for House, for Daniel, for Roger, for himself. If he could lie enough, he could buy into himself, but the truth was in his face every day, all day, all night, the stench of it clinging to his clothes and skin, bitching at him for trying.
"I love him, Lisa, but this is...I can't. If...if you won't give me the pills, if that isn't...I think I need help," he said weakly, sickened that he even admitted it.
Her fingers settled again into his hair, and she held him against her. For now, her anger had faded into the quiet background because there were other things to deal with and be concerned about. Like the way Jack was shaking against her, sobbing, begging. Things he never liked to do in front of anyone or show to anyone else.
But he knew she'd help. Knew she loved him no matter what. It was just..the way things were.
"If I give you the pills, Jack, and he takes them, even if he takes every narcotic or drug on the entire island, it isn't going to help him. It'll stop the pain for now, but when those run out? This is just going to happen again. It's the only way, this, now." Her voice was soft, steady, but more gentle now than before. Just slightly.
"Yeah...ripping off the bandage. I've heard it," he said once he was able to take a deep breath and calm down. He loosened his grip and sat back on his heels. The cold had gone from numbing his legs to burning, and he barely noticed as he looked at her feet.
"I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm so sorry...I'm just, I don't know. It's--" Jack managed to look up, slowly. "It's worse than you said it would be. Worse than anything. I've...Lisa, I've done things to him I haven't done in ages. I hurt him. One to cancel out the other. I did it, and I didn't even hesitate."
Lisa let herself kneel down in front of him, because it gave her a better view of his face. It sounded just like she had worried it would - all the things she had hoped wouldn't happen for Jack's sake were happening, and she'd give anything to take them away. But there was no turning back the clock.
"None of this is your fault," she said, and her hand caressed his cheek, along the side of his jaw again. "Tell me what's happened, Jack." She could imagine it well enough, but if Jack said it, chances were he'd feel better. Being able to confide all of that in someone, let it out..it could make a difference.
"When you torture someone, you start small," he admitted, hanging his head so she couldn't see him. So he didn't have to see her eyes as he confessed. "He wanted a razor blade. Instead, I...there's places that can be excruciating if you know how to work the nerves. It doesn't leave marks," he said, his voice getting quieter and quieter.
"And it worked. One of the few things that has...and when I did it I just wanted to hurt him back for...God, Lisa, I really can't do this. I'm going to kill him."
It was part of his past, the ghosts he'd tried to shove away and destroy. Except - and it was a fact very few people wanted to admit - ghosts didn't die. They just went away for a little while, and there was always a chance they'd come back. Jack's were creeping back to him at the worst possible time, and she knew it.
Instead of speaking, of pushing out any words that might help, Lisa did something that would. Her fingers lifted his chin, and without a word she leaned in and kissed him. With all the tenderness and softness he'd been craving, and then more. She kissed his lips, then tilted her head upwards and kissed the tears from where they had fallen and were falling down his face.
There would be words in a moment.
Jack's breath hitched and his jaw trembled, but he was still. He'd thought for sure he'd ruined what they had between them. He should have known just how strong she was. She knew his secrets. Knew his fears. She probably knew things he'd never even admit.
"He says he's sorry," he added. "That I didn't sign on for this. That he's surprised I haven't left him. That's...the kinder things he's said."
She did know him. And everything that she knew, it all made her love him that much more. For all that they were never able to be together, for what they couldn't have as well as what they could, Lisa loved him. It was probably an unwise gesture on her part, that sort of blind devotion, but she didn't care. It was the sort of thing she kept quiet, but was just as present.
"At least he sees that. He loves you, Jack. The pain is just making him into a bigger jerk than usual. But the pain is going to pass. It's going to be all right, Jack, but you can't take on all of this alone. I know you want to, but you can't anymore."
"I feel like a fucking failure, Lisa," Jack said, his voice cracking. "He's gone through this alone twice. I won't let that happen again, but if it's not me...I just...I can't leave him alone."
"You're not a failure. Jack, you're doing more for him than.." She trailed off, because naming names wasn't going to help. "He's not going to be alone. And I'm not going to tell you to walk away, but you need to get some rest. You need some time away. And I know what to do."
"You sound like Daniel. I told him I'd go there if it got too bad, but I'm not leaving Greg alone, Lisa. And don't think you're staying. He wouldn't be any nicer to you than me, and you don't need to take that," he sighed. "And I'm fucking freezing. I should go back in."
"I know you're not leaving him alone, being alone is the last thing he needs. But you need a break, Jack. You need some sleep." Her touch was warm, but her voice was firm and she wasn't going to take an argument. "Trance is going to come, and when she gets here I want you to take the night off. Just the night, for some rest." She didn't add that yes, she would stay if it came to that. That was another argument for another time.
He took a deep breath as he stood, then brushed the snow off his legs and offered her his hand. "Okay," he nodded, sounding just a resigned and hopeless as he had when she'd arrived. "When she comes, I'll go. Get some sleep at their place. That was pretty much an order," he said, then actually managed a small laugh. "Like I'd say no to either of you."
She put her hand into his, letting him draw her up and to her feet. "That's right," she said, "come to think of it I can't remember a time you've ever told me no." Her eyes rolled heavenward briefly, considering, and then she gave him a smile and a laugh. "Maybe it's because I do know what I'm talking about once in awhile, and from the sound of things Daniel's pretty good himself." Her tone was light but the tiredness in his voice brought her hand to his cheek again.
"Wicked feminine wiles, that's what it is," he said, flashing a tired smile. "Go on, I'll be okay until she gets here. And, Lisa? Thanks."
She laughed at that, then shook her head a little. "Don't worry about it. Get some rest, and I'll come by to see you."
A quick kiss on the cheek, and Lisa stepped back to let him go inside. But she didn't leave. Instead, she stepped back into the trees sheltering one of the paths to the hut and waited. She ignored the cold and waited, watched Trance arrive a little while later, and heard extremely muffled voices from inside the hut. Her hands were tucked firmly into the pockets of her coat, and she waited longer until Jack emerged from the door of the hut.
[ dated to December 29th, evening/nighttime. ]
It had been days. Longer than days, really, but Lisa wasn't in the habit of nitpicking in these kinds of situations. All she knew was that, according to her last conversation with Jack, House was currently out of Vicodin. The rumors flying about the clinic regarding House's last - and very recent - appearance were exactly what she'd expected, and..it was time.
The wind was still biting cold against her face, and she tugged her scarf tighter around her throat as the hut came into view. Her gloved fingers curled lightly into a fist, and she knocked twice. Not loud enough to wake House if he was fortunate enough to sleep - she knew House could sleep through a ringing phone sixteen times over if so inclined - but loud enough to catch Jack's attention. Jack, whose senses flared like an animal on the prowl, either in the throes of an attack or the presence of defense. The knocking died softly like the conclusion of a melody in the surrounding air.
And she waited.
It took a couple minutes, but the lock slid open and Jack looked out of just a crack in the door. "Hold on," he said, then closed it. He grabbed his coat and had it in his hands as he stepped outside, his body blocking any view inside.
Even in the darkness, he looked haggard. His hair was a mess and he smelled of sweat and sickness that wasn't him. It just clung to him.
And yet, he was still Jack. "Hey, pretty lady," he said quietly.
She didn't rise to the usual line of greeting. Normally, Lisa would have flashed a sparkling smile and said something - Hey, yourself - in sweet tones that made him smile, too. And from there, things would be fine. Not this time.
The ground crunched quietly beneath her feet, and her arms found their way around him. He reeked, stunk horribly of perspiration and the scent that cloyed one's nostrils when they were confined too long to their bed. Had there been a hint of sterilization in the air, it could have been the intensive care ward at Princeton-Plainsboro, but there was nothing along those lines to be found.
Still, she held on for a good while, her chilled skin warming to the heat of his neck. When she drew back, her eyes saw not his, but instead the tired lines on his face.
"How is he?"
"Bad. Worse than either of us expected," he replied flatly. "And it's not getting any better. A lot of pain, and I'm going to get whiplash from how fast his moods change."
Jack held onto her firmly, desperate for any gentle touch. He'd had a moment of weakness last night with Daniel. The passing hours between then and now had only made it worse, made him crave one kind word, any sweet look. He figured out quickly he wasn't going to get the standard dance from Lisa.
"...How are you? I missed telling you Merry Christmas."
The thread of desperation wasn't lost on her, and it eased the vicelike grasp around her heart. How long it had been there she wasn't sure, but Lisa figured it had started slowly when the situation with House had been brought to her attention. Things like this could destroy a person, and not just the one in pain. It was never easy.
Her fingeres smoothed up his back, along the tension there, and she kept him close enough so that, despite the cold, he could probably feel it. Winter had a way of chilling, biting off all sensation until the world was numb, but she was still warm and she'd pass that on to him. Her eyes softened on his face, and she let herself smile. Let herself relax enough to look at him the way she would have on any other night.
"Well, there's now, so Merry Christmas, Jack. And as for me, I'm fine. I've just been keeping to the clinic, waiting for all of this." She knew he didn't need further clarification, and she didn't want to dredge all that up. But her fingers did move upwards, through his hair and against the back of his neck.
"How long has he been this way?"
"He took the last he had on Christmas. So...not too long after that. A few hours, I guess, before he started to shake." He was so clinical, so precise in the repetition of facts. Nothing about the last desperate time they'd taken advantage of Greg's general lack of pain. Nothing about how the shakes became chills, how Jack had held him until he got pushed away. Nothing about how Greg had been pushing him away a little bit at a time since then.
"Yesterday he said he needed to go to the clinic. I cleaned up, but then..." Jack stopped, swallowed hard, and looked away. "I...he's...what can I tell you? You know how this goes."
He was right, she did know. Lisa knew how this had gone in the past, and could draw a fairly accurate portrait - a mural, really - of just how things had been going for Jack. The difference was, Lisa hadn't gone through it alone. There was a whole hospital, other people - Stacy - all sorts of others to fill in the blanks, pick up the slack, take blows if she herself had become too bruised to handle another - all figuratively speaking, of course. But Jack was adamant on doing this alone, and it wasn't any wonder he was wearing down.
"He's driving you away," she said, and there was knowing in her voice. She made no move to force him to look at her, instead traced the backs of her fingers along the line of his jaw. Was he tense? It didn't surprise her that he would be. Lisa stroked there lightly once or twice, not breaking contact. It was as much for his benefit as hers, but she wouldn't voice that aloud.
He flashed a weak, hollow smile and shook his head. "Takes more than that to get rid of me," he said, trying for light and hitting somewhere around hopeless. But, God, her hand was too soft and the way she was touching him so delicately made him lean into it, aching for more.
He didn't have any gloves on, so reaching inside her coat to hold her waist lightly helped keep them warm. Helped keep him stable.
She didn't pull away, instead let him draw her as close as he wanted. For all that Jack was trying to do himself, he couldn't keep himself warm. Couldn't bring a caress to his own cheek in a gesture of it's not all right now, but it will be, couldn't look himself in the eyes without the cold, impersonal presence of a mirror. This, she could do. And this she would, without hesitation.
"I know," she said gently, her voice as tender as the palm that cupped his cheek, the fingertip that brushed across his lips, now slightly chilled from the cold. "I know, you aren't going to walk away from him. He knows it, too."
"I promised," he said under his breath, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, mostly because he couldn't take her looking at him like that. He was better than this. He could do what it took. He could be strong. He could hold anyone up, rather than let them fall.
And yet, here he was holding on to the one person who knew. Knew, more than anyone else, just what Jack's limits were. Where exactly it was that he shut off, disconnected. When he gave up.
"Lisa," he whispered, seeking her mouth, looking for anything. Any touch. Any warmth that had little to do with the cold of the night.
Her name on his lips sent a warm, sweet ache into her chest, and Lisa couldn't deny him. It wasn't just that she wouldn't, but that she refused to. It was so easy to tilt her chin upwards, let her lips, slightly parted, meet his. He was so cold, even when she'd known him to be nothing but warm. From the first time she'd actually seen him, taken the time to speak to him, she had always thought of Jack as warm. Now, she'd give almost anything to bring that warmth back.
Her fingers clutched softly, not roughly at all, to the back of his neck, and she kissed him. It was so easy to draw him to her, silently coax him to fit against her. And his hands beneath her coat, against the fabric and her own skin, were warming. She could feel it, almost imagined she could feel the cold knot that must be inside his chest easing.
Slipping her arm downwards just enough, she pulled him closer and left little to no room for protest.
His lips parted and he kissed her deeply, his tongue moving insistantly against hers. She was willing and he was so tired of holding back. As she pulled him closer, his hand moved down to the hem of her blouse, then under and up, caressing bare skin, fingers ghosting over her bra.
He took a step, turned a little, and he had her back against the wall of the cabin. He wasn't forcing anything, just focused. The need was palpable, and it wasn't even sex. He just needed to touch her, be touched by her, to hear her voice soft against his skin. He needed to be able to make someone feel good.
The movement didn't startle her, because his need was so great. Some people in the world thrived on sex - on the act itself, not what came from it. But with Jack, it had always been about the tenderness. The emotion, the feeling, something more. When he touched her, it was all she could ever feel.
His fingers against her skin pushed a soft, willing sigh from her lips, and Lisa let her mouth drift just slightly from his, enough to let "Jack.." slip into the air between them. She tilted her head back to meet his, taking in his breath, giving him her own. Her hands moved down his sides, returning the touch and warming his skin. It was so easy to touch that way, to feel his want against her, and from there to let herself kiss him again.
He could finally breathe. He could feel it all over himself, the strength returning. The fragile balance of being strong for Greg and pushing his own feelings down was shattered and he suddenly had what he needed to go on. His name in the night, her body responding to his hands purely reflexively. He kissed her hard, then gentle, pulling at her lips and tasting her tongue once more before moving away to her neck.
Jack nudged her chin up with his nose and carved a trail of warm kisses down her throat, holding her close, kneading her breasts, teasing her nipples, cupping her ass and pulling her to him tighter.
When he got to her ear, he sucked softly on her earlobe, swam in the scent of her hair and her...just her. He could do this, make her feel better, and together--
Yeah. Because she knew what he needed. What she'd agreed to before didn't matter now.
"Lisa," he whispered breathlessly, kissing her again beneath er ear before her purred softly, "Give me the Vicodin."
God, it was so easy. They could just let go, that way, together. And everything would be all right - all those thoughts rushed over and over through her mind with the consistency of soft wind in a breaking, new morning. His hands were so familiar, he was giving himself up so slowly, and everything was going to be all right, just..
Give me the Vicodin.
Four little words, and yet they were enough to snap her eyes open. Enough to make her heart skip, then accelerate like a rabbit's frightened pulse beneath her skin. Because he didn't mean it, did he? After what he had said, after what she'd promised and done..did he?
"..Jack." Her shoulders had gone tense, but she didn't push him back. She wouldn't...at least she didn't think so.
"Give it to me," he said a little louder, his hands still moving, skimming over every part of her body he knew so well. Knew well enough to make her moan, make her go boneless. He touched her everywhere he knew would get her to say yes.
"Please," he added, kissing her throat again, one hand trailing up her back, tracing her scars. "I need it, Lisa. I know what I asked, but that was before I knew how bad it would be. Just...just two. Not all of them. Just two," he said in the same voice he used to tell her she was beautiful, the same tone he recited poetry to her. Soft. Low. Gentle.
Manipulative.
It would have been so easy because he hadn't been this close in so long, and it wasn't any secret how she felt about him. For over a year now, Lisa had been in love with Jack, had wanted this, had wanted him, and now that it was here...and that voice...
But it wasn't her that he wanted. It wasn't her, it was the pills. He was using...
Hot tears sprang to her eyes, but they were blessedly closed and she could shove them back to a place for later before opening them. Her hands lifted again, bracing against his shoulders, and she pushed him back. Pushed him back and away from her, lifting her chin to look up into his face. The warmth was gone, her features tight and sharp with anger in her eyes. As sharp as her voice.
"Get away from me."
It took him a second to snap out of it, for realization to hit him. If it had been about sex, if she'd said no to that, he'd have taken it in stride. But, no. He should have known better. She knew him well enough to catch on to what he was doing. How he had seperated his feelings for her from his duty. His promise.
The anger started in his gut, a white hot rage spreading through his whole body, tensing his shoulders, balling his fists, twisting his face into a mask of ugly anger.
"JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING PILLS, LISA!" he yelled, and he clearly didn't care who heard him.
Her eyes widened, but blessedly she didn't recoil and later Lisa would realize it wasn't out of any present state of resolve but because her back was against the hut of the wall and consequently held firm and straight. She didn't have anywhere to go, and because of that - and more - she stood her ground.
And she was angry. So angry that her face hardened and she glared right back at him, resolute and unmoving.
"I'm not giving you the pills, Jack! And there isn't a damned thing you can do to change my mind. So if that's the only reason you're here, you can forget it. Hear me? Forget it, Jack."
Jack raised his arm and leaned in, but it only hit the wall above her shoulder, bracing him there. "Tell me where they are," he sneered, angrier than he had been in...he couldn't remember the last time. Maybe when he'd near'y killed Wilson, but even that wasn't like this. He needed them. He needed to help Greg and he was running out of options.
"He needs to sleep. I can't help him. I can't fix it and I can't stop it. You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't need..."
God, she was so beautiful. Stronger than most people knew. He'd been far too right to ask her to keep them. He should have known there was no way she'd back down.
"Lisa...please," he asked again as the anger dissipated as quickly as it had rose. Fuck...he wasn't just taking care of Greg through this. He was starting to do the same things.
His anger hurt her in a way she hadn't expected it to. The knowledge that Jack was capable of violence, of hate, was one thing but seeing those things and hearing them angled solely at her in the calm, cool quiet of the forest, was completely different. It made her heart ache, and that aching was what grounded her.
She stayed quiet as he spoke, as he yelled, and only spoke when his anger began to fade. When the realization of what he was asking her, what he was doing and how he was doing it began to flicker in his eyes like small flashes of light.
And she shook her head. Once, slowly, firmly. "No, Jack. I'm not giving you those pills, and no one else knows where they are. And that's how it's going to stay." Her voice was again just as firm as the shake of her head. Giving House more medication was only going to stop the process and lead to it starting all over again. Jack knew this, but right now he wasn't thinking - he was only feeling. She'd have to do the thinking for him right now. And that was something she could do.
"Lisa, please," he repeated, more desperate, the full weight of his fear and worry rushing over him, taking his breath away and cutting his legs out from under him. He didn't have anything left to twist her to his will, he barely had enough to keep himself together.
He sank to his knees in the snow, the hand on the wall dragging down her coat until he could only grip the bottom and look up at her with hot tears running down his face. "I'm begging you. Please, Lisa. I can't watch him like this every single day and not be able to fix it."
His voice was gone, just a whisper left as he dropped his head to her stomach and clung to her.
"Please..."
The tears she'd been willing back, shoving to some other place, all came rushing forward and it was all she could do to keep them from coming at the same time. Because it was happening to Jack - she could remember times like these in years past - and there was nothing to do. Nothing to do but wait it out.
"Jack." His name managed its way past her lips, burrowed itself into his hair with the downward fall of her head. Her hands moved, and then her arms were around him, pulling him to her. Leaning down meant she had to bend a little at the waist but she didn't mind it, and she clutched him to her. Tightly, fiercely, pulling him in against her and away from the storm that was begging at his heels to let it in.
"You're doing the right thing. It doesn't feel like it and no one else is going to tell you it is, but you're fixing it, Jack." Her lips found his hair and stayed there, against the ghost of warm skin and the brushing softness where she said his name again. Lisa wasn't going to fall to pieces and cry, not like this and not now when he was the one that needed her. Her arms were tight and strong, and she held him with his head against her stomach, the tears soaking her jacket.
"He keeps getting worse," he sobbed, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Lisa, I can't do this. I thought I could. I swore I could. But I can't."
He'd kept up the lie for House, for Daniel, for Roger, for himself. If he could lie enough, he could buy into himself, but the truth was in his face every day, all day, all night, the stench of it clinging to his clothes and skin, bitching at him for trying.
"I love him, Lisa, but this is...I can't. If...if you won't give me the pills, if that isn't...I think I need help," he said weakly, sickened that he even admitted it.
Her fingers settled again into his hair, and she held him against her. For now, her anger had faded into the quiet background because there were other things to deal with and be concerned about. Like the way Jack was shaking against her, sobbing, begging. Things he never liked to do in front of anyone or show to anyone else.
But he knew she'd help. Knew she loved him no matter what. It was just..the way things were.
"If I give you the pills, Jack, and he takes them, even if he takes every narcotic or drug on the entire island, it isn't going to help him. It'll stop the pain for now, but when those run out? This is just going to happen again. It's the only way, this, now." Her voice was soft, steady, but more gentle now than before. Just slightly.
"Yeah...ripping off the bandage. I've heard it," he said once he was able to take a deep breath and calm down. He loosened his grip and sat back on his heels. The cold had gone from numbing his legs to burning, and he barely noticed as he looked at her feet.
"I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm so sorry...I'm just, I don't know. It's--" Jack managed to look up, slowly. "It's worse than you said it would be. Worse than anything. I've...Lisa, I've done things to him I haven't done in ages. I hurt him. One to cancel out the other. I did it, and I didn't even hesitate."
Lisa let herself kneel down in front of him, because it gave her a better view of his face. It sounded just like she had worried it would - all the things she had hoped wouldn't happen for Jack's sake were happening, and she'd give anything to take them away. But there was no turning back the clock.
"None of this is your fault," she said, and her hand caressed his cheek, along the side of his jaw again. "Tell me what's happened, Jack." She could imagine it well enough, but if Jack said it, chances were he'd feel better. Being able to confide all of that in someone, let it out..it could make a difference.
"When you torture someone, you start small," he admitted, hanging his head so she couldn't see him. So he didn't have to see her eyes as he confessed. "He wanted a razor blade. Instead, I...there's places that can be excruciating if you know how to work the nerves. It doesn't leave marks," he said, his voice getting quieter and quieter.
"And it worked. One of the few things that has...and when I did it I just wanted to hurt him back for...God, Lisa, I really can't do this. I'm going to kill him."
It was part of his past, the ghosts he'd tried to shove away and destroy. Except - and it was a fact very few people wanted to admit - ghosts didn't die. They just went away for a little while, and there was always a chance they'd come back. Jack's were creeping back to him at the worst possible time, and she knew it.
Instead of speaking, of pushing out any words that might help, Lisa did something that would. Her fingers lifted his chin, and without a word she leaned in and kissed him. With all the tenderness and softness he'd been craving, and then more. She kissed his lips, then tilted her head upwards and kissed the tears from where they had fallen and were falling down his face.
There would be words in a moment.
Jack's breath hitched and his jaw trembled, but he was still. He'd thought for sure he'd ruined what they had between them. He should have known just how strong she was. She knew his secrets. Knew his fears. She probably knew things he'd never even admit.
"He says he's sorry," he added. "That I didn't sign on for this. That he's surprised I haven't left him. That's...the kinder things he's said."
She did know him. And everything that she knew, it all made her love him that much more. For all that they were never able to be together, for what they couldn't have as well as what they could, Lisa loved him. It was probably an unwise gesture on her part, that sort of blind devotion, but she didn't care. It was the sort of thing she kept quiet, but was just as present.
"At least he sees that. He loves you, Jack. The pain is just making him into a bigger jerk than usual. But the pain is going to pass. It's going to be all right, Jack, but you can't take on all of this alone. I know you want to, but you can't anymore."
"I feel like a fucking failure, Lisa," Jack said, his voice cracking. "He's gone through this alone twice. I won't let that happen again, but if it's not me...I just...I can't leave him alone."
"You're not a failure. Jack, you're doing more for him than.." She trailed off, because naming names wasn't going to help. "He's not going to be alone. And I'm not going to tell you to walk away, but you need to get some rest. You need some time away. And I know what to do."
"You sound like Daniel. I told him I'd go there if it got too bad, but I'm not leaving Greg alone, Lisa. And don't think you're staying. He wouldn't be any nicer to you than me, and you don't need to take that," he sighed. "And I'm fucking freezing. I should go back in."
"I know you're not leaving him alone, being alone is the last thing he needs. But you need a break, Jack. You need some sleep." Her touch was warm, but her voice was firm and she wasn't going to take an argument. "Trance is going to come, and when she gets here I want you to take the night off. Just the night, for some rest." She didn't add that yes, she would stay if it came to that. That was another argument for another time.
He took a deep breath as he stood, then brushed the snow off his legs and offered her his hand. "Okay," he nodded, sounding just a resigned and hopeless as he had when she'd arrived. "When she comes, I'll go. Get some sleep at their place. That was pretty much an order," he said, then actually managed a small laugh. "Like I'd say no to either of you."
She put her hand into his, letting him draw her up and to her feet. "That's right," she said, "come to think of it I can't remember a time you've ever told me no." Her eyes rolled heavenward briefly, considering, and then she gave him a smile and a laugh. "Maybe it's because I do know what I'm talking about once in awhile, and from the sound of things Daniel's pretty good himself." Her tone was light but the tiredness in his voice brought her hand to his cheek again.
"Wicked feminine wiles, that's what it is," he said, flashing a tired smile. "Go on, I'll be okay until she gets here. And, Lisa? Thanks."
She laughed at that, then shook her head a little. "Don't worry about it. Get some rest, and I'll come by to see you."
A quick kiss on the cheek, and Lisa stepped back to let him go inside. But she didn't leave. Instead, she stepped back into the trees sheltering one of the paths to the hut and waited. She ignored the cold and waited, watched Trance arrive a little while later, and heard extremely muffled voices from inside the hut. Her hands were tucked firmly into the pockets of her coat, and she waited longer until Jack emerged from the door of the hut.
