Half Life Disclaimer: I do not own House or anything affiliated with it. It is owned by FOX. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Spoilers: Season One, "Three Stories" Author's Note: This is my first-ever House . How exciting! I hope you enjoy it. Summary: Half life: noun; the time required for something to fall to half its initial value. The choice was the start of his half life. Half Life by: chopsticks p g ----- The pain had been excruciating. It had been worse than anything he had ever felt in his life. And right then it had seemed worse than anything he had seen his patients suffer. He had wanted to scream in absolute agony. He had screamed, at least a few times. This was my choice, he had reminded himself, the pain making even that simple thought horribly difficult. He had monitored his own condition, waiting for something that he had begun to believe to be inevitable. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the words, I made the wrong choice, had echoed. Eight years later, they still echoed there. He was wrong, she was right. He had forced her into choosing a compromise for him, which was worse than the worst treatment. Now he had to live with the pain of her decision and his mistake. She had left him after months of fighting. He had blamed her for everything that had gone wrong. In the back of his mind, he had known that she had saved his life. In the back of his mind, he had known that she had condemned him to his own personal hell. That hadn't kept his heart from breaking. Eight years later, he found himself still blaming her on occasion. (He found himself unable to think of her without having to drown the pain in two little white pills.) More often than not, he found himself blaming himself. (He found himself reaching for the plain white pills more often than necessary.) He had been wrong. He still won't admit to it, though. He could have come out of the coma with full use of his leg. He prefers to believe that to be a fact, not a pipe dream like his mind whispers. His coworkers hated and adored him for constantly being right. He was right only out of necessity--he's never been wrong about something in his life. Two pills and he can quiet the whispers of his mind. Two white tablets keep him from admitting that she was right. He's never wrong. She was wrong. Two more pills and he convinces himself the dream is reality. He is never wrong. ----- the end. feedback welcomed at (at) hotmail (dot) com.