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Lawrence sat looking blankly at his team. They were saying something that made sense, helped the case, he was sure. They were saying something he never could. Instead, he tried to focus on himself. His leg bouncing one thousand miles an hour- no. What did that psychiatrist say? Something about the five senses. Number one- He could see a small drop of coffee on House’s shirt, was he alright? Jittering could be a side effect of Vicodin. Number two- The blinds were open, the filtered sun not helping his growing headache. Only a few more hours, he had to remind himself. Three- Taub’s smile lines. He had always appreciated them, and the irony that they donned the face of a plastic surgeon. Shame that this would be the last day he would see them. Take it all in now, he told himself. He shook his head, trying to get back to grounding. Four- Thirteen, his closest friend on the team, she wouldn't have to put up with him much longer. He followed her line of sight to five- Foreman. He was unusual as well. His shirt was wrinkled and he seemed askew. This isn't working, the guilt was still leaving him raw, suffocating. What was the next step?
What could he hear? The muddied voices of his teammates rang clear as he turned back in. Then he focused on the hallway where he heard two and three, the hurried wheeling of a crash cart and a declining heart monitor. Four was the consistent dripping of the broken tap in the sink of their office. When would they get that fixed? Not that he would be around to see. He didn't want to think like this but it felt unavoidable, so much for a distraction. He had to keep going. Couldn't he have a few moments of peace to enjoy these final moments before his isolating apartment.
Touch came third. He could feel the seam in his socks, it drove him batty but he didn't have the energy or desire to correct it. He could also feel his itchy whitecoat. House was onto something, not wearing it. If only he could get away with it. Third was the crushing guilt of what he was going to do to his colleagues- his friends. It wasn't that he wanted to cause any harm to them, but the collateral couldn't be helped. He didn't want the last thing he felt in this place to be discomfort. Better to cut it now before it gets any worse.
Four. What could he smell? Beneath the common smell of sterility in the building he could smell burnt day old coffee that began to pile up in cups in the sink. Who would take care of them? Should he, as some sort of twisted parting gift? He could also smell something sweet, like a cologne or perfume. He couldn't tell. Was his heartbeat starting to slow? Maybe this really did work.
Taste. Bile, all he could taste was the rising bile that crept up his throat. He launched himself over to the trash, doubting his ability to make it to the bathroom. Good call. As soon as he made it the contents of his stomach emptied itself into the plastic container and Thirteen was quick to his side
“Kutner, are you alright?” she asked, worried clear in her voice as she crouched down next to him. “Are you sick?”
Kutner raised his head and opened his mouth to speak, but the nausea held him back, instead he shook his head. He would have to explain to them, he knew it, but was there any non self loathing explanation for not eating for two days straight. Of course that would be the first thing she asked about. He could picture it all now, House’s teasing ‘party hardy last night, Kutner?’ He couldn’t take it, not today.
He looked up to Thirteen “I was going-’ His eyes locked on hers “I am going to-” why was he doing this? If he told her he wouldn't be able to finish it. Before he could talk himself out of it he mimed shooting himself in the head. Thirteen looked stunned, back straightened she sat up. Kutner looked away, the gun shape his hand made faltering as he moved to scratch the back of his neck. He shouldn't have done that. Now she was involved.
“Kut.” her voice was soft, as if she was afraid of breaking him “You- My-” she shook her head “I’ll clean out my spare room. You can stay with me.” It wasn't an offer. She was telling him. That gave Kutner some twisted relief, he didn't need to make a decision. He nodded unconsciously, taking her up on her non- offer. It felt less like a decision, really, and more of a surrender. Had he made the right decision? It would take a while to know. His cheeks felt wet. Was he crying? A bewildered hand moved to his cheek, when it pulled back it was spotted with tears he didn't know he had shed. Steps down the hallway pulled him back to reality. He used the back of his coat to wipe his tears.
“Wilson, hi” he said, voice cracking slightly. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”
Wilson’s brow furrowed, looking at Kutner for a moment longer than necessary. “I was just going to get my lunch back from House, what’s going on here?” A quick glance was exchanged between Thirteen and Kutner. A wordless agreement.
“Nothing,” Thirteen said, “just a long night, you know how it is.” Kutner was always astonished how quickly she could come up with a story if it was needed. It seemed enough for Wilson who nodded silently and passed them without a second thought.
Kutner instinctively wiped his cheeks with his sleeve. He sat up and brushed himself off.
“We should get back,” He said, standing up and holding a hand out to Thirteen.
“No,” Thirteen said, taking his hand and standing up “We shouldn't go back until you are ready” she said with a concerned look in her eyes. She had a way of understanding others- no mystery why Foreman likes her. Another pang of guilt rang through him. Foreman, he hadn’t even considered him before. The man who had become the rock of their team completely slipped his mind. The thought made him shudder. Has his memory been fading? Or was his plan just all consuming. Either way, they made their way the two feet back to the door and sat back down, the quiet almost too much for Kutner to bear.
“You alright?” Taub asked, turning to the younger man “I mean, obviously not but, is it something you want to talk about?” The look in Taub’s eyes said that he didn't want to talk about feelings at all, and Kutner was relieved.