Courthouse
Request by @schnitzelbutterfingers: Tritter assaulting f!reader after finding out she is House’s weak point and then she just became completely depressed and then House kind of forces out what happened to her
I do apologize, I changed it a bit.
As usual, gif not mine, I adore comments, likes and reblogs
Masterlist
Parking the car, you angrily slammed the door shut before making your way to the detention facility. You paid the clerk the $15,000 bail before leaving to wait outside.
You leaned against the car, foot tapping anxiously, arms crossed. Limping down the stairs at the entrance to the building, a grin on his face upon seeing you.
“I called Wilson!”
“You’re an arrogant idiot.” You told him and entered the car.
You drove in silence, every time he tried to talk, to justify himself you were sure, you raised your hand to shut him.
You dropped him at the entrance to the hospital and waited for him to get out.
“I’ll see you in the office.” You informed him quietly.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise and opened his mouth to say something but instead shut it back up and nodded once before leaving your vehicle.
Later that day House got a call about Tritter who got a search warrant for his house and found a stash of about 600 pills, which of course made Tritter add trafficking to the charges.
Convinced that House is an addict and decided to apply pressure on his co-workers to testify against him.
When Wilson found out House had stolen his prescription pad to write himself prescriptions he came straight to you, he told you he lied, and said he signed them himself, however, Tritter noticed that the signatures didn't match, and as a result his car was impounded and accounts froze.
When the diagnostic team refused to turn him in as well, Tritter decided to go after all of your weaknesses: he went after Cameron by appealing to her love for House, not knowing it was no longer there. He went after Foreman by promising to help his brother get out of prison, and Chase by making it look like he has already co-operated, not that any of you believed that. The only one he has yet to try was you. Which made everyone uncomfortable.
Due to clubbed fingers, House diagnosed the patient with lung cancer, and tests confirmed small cell lung carcinoma, which has metastasized. The patient only had a few months to live. Cameron volunteered to break him the news which allowed you to leave for the day.
You made your way to your car, searching your purse for the keys. You jumped as you looked up and saw Tritter leaning against your trunk.
“Oh good you didn’t forget me, I was insulted.”
He half smiled as he chewed his nicotine gum, “Did you hear that I searched Dr. House’s apartment,”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you also aware of the fact that I found 600 Vicodin pills in his apartment?” Pushing himself to stand upright and fully smiling, “Should I say, your apartment? Found a picture of you and your mom in a drawer on a bedside table. I assume you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to go to jail and lose his medical license. It wasn’t Dr. Cameron that’s in love with him, it’s you. You know that lying to a cop is a criminal offense?”
Crossing your arms across your chest, “You think threatening me will help you convince me to help you put House behind bars?”
“If you don’t, you’ll face the same consequences as your colleagues. Just one phone call away from having your account frozen as well.”
Moving to open your car door, you tossed your purse to the seat next to the driver, “Good thing I went grocery shopping yesterday.” You snarked and entered the car.
“Is he worth your medical license?” He yelled.
Turning the engine on and reversing out of the parking space, you pulled the window down, “I’ll see you in court.” And drove away.
Entering the apartment, threw the keys on the counter, your purse was tossed aside and you walked straight to the bedroom.
House looked up from the piano, slightly confused at your lack of greeting. Marching back to the living room you dropped his pillow and a blanket on the couch before turning to face him, “You’re sleeping here until this mess clears up and you apologize to Wilson.”
You went back to the bedroom and slammed the door shut.
You woke up in the middle of the night, at first you weren’t sure what pulled you from sleep but you did when you felt the bed dipped.
“Get out.”
He laid down and put his arm around your waist, he kissed your shoulder blade.
“Come on, don’t be like that.”
Moving his arm off of you, you pushed the blanket back and sat up.
“Fine, you take the bed.” You said as you left the room.
He rushed after you as fast as he could without his cane, holding onto his thigh.
“Don’t you think you’re being ridiculous?”
Turning sharply to look at him, “Wilson got his car impounded because of you, that’s the only reason I came to bail you out. He cannot write prescriptions, everybody’s accounts are frozen, my license is on the line because Tritter searched the apartment and you don’t give a crap.”
He took a step closer to you, “He threatened you?”
Sighing, you rubbed your hand across your forehead, “Doesn’t matter what he did.“
“He’s a bully.”
“I don’t care House! You caused this mess! I’m going to sleep, don’t come after me because I don’t want to see your face right now.”
Sitting down heavily on the couch he saw his bottle of Vicodin on the coffee table. Reaching, he popped it open, shook two pills out, and tossed them back before lying down and settling to sleep.
After a week of separate sleeping and House and Wilson fighting due to Wilson cutting a deal with Tritter. He was offered to go into rehab, but no jail time. Of course, he believed that Wilson was only cooperating with Tritter to get his practice back.
You unlocked your apartment door, tired and cranky. It was dark and quiet. You assumed maybe your boyfriend used the opportunity you weren’t home to go to sleep in your shared bed.
You shut the door and entered the living room to see House passed out on the floor near his vomit, along with the prescribed oxycodone that he stole from Wilson’s dead patient.
Rushing to his side to check if he had a pulse, he turned his head to look at you with hazy eyes.
Tears streamed down your face as you looked down at him, “I can’t anymore.” You whispered, got up, and left the apartment.
The next day House went to Tritter to take the deal, but Tritter turned him down. Tritter found out about the stolen oxycodone, so he didn’t need yours nor Wilson's testimony to prosecute House.
He came back from court, he stood next to you in the kitchenette. You moved to sit on the opposite side of the table, as far away from him as you could while still being in the same room. House didn’t take his eyes off you the whole DDX. Soon as he ordered tests you were the first to flee the room.
A few days later, following Cameron’s visit the team performed electroshock therapy on the patient. He remembered his name after the treatment, but little else. You let his brother and Amy into the room. He didn’t react negatively, but he didn't recognize them.
The patient was getting better, despite his memory loss. The only side effect was that his voice had gotten higher. Wilson came to see House again and even brought him a new tie for court. House apologized to Wilson because he knew that Wilson was trying to do what he thought was best.
You ran into Wilson in the elevator on your way to the clinic after he came back from seeing House and was on his way to leave work.
“Did you force him into rehab?” He asked.
Shocked you turned to face Wilson fully.
He looked at you slightly horrified, “You didn’t know he was there?”
“Tell me what’s going on.” You demanded.
“House entered rehab voluntarily. A few days ago. I thought you had something to do with it, he said you haven’t been home since the oxycodone fiasco.”
You shook your head just as the elevator doors opened to reveal the hospital lobby and clinic. Instead of going to the clinic, you press the floor for the rehab center.
You found him vomiting in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, and looking miserable. He glanced up at you before lowering his gaze back to the floor.
“Didn’t think you’d come.”
Stepping forward, you crossed your arms across your chest, “Because you told everyone not to tell me you’re here.”
He shrugged once, “Tritter came to visit.” He shared quietly.
You sat down opposite him on the floor.
“Told me, he doesn't give addicts another chance, and even my actions are a lie.”
“You caused all of this.”
He nodded, “I know.”
Getting up, “Good luck with the trial.”
“Will you be there?”
You paused at the bathroom doorway, “I haven’t decided yet.” You said honestly and left.
You got to the hearing as Tritter gave his testimony about House taking another patient's drugs. You sat beside Wilson and he held your hand in silent support. Everyone paused to stare at House as his phone rang, the team (minus you) called House in court to say that the patient’s memories were false. House ignored the judge’s instructions to give up his cell phone and made a smarmy comment to the judge. You rolled your eyes and looked at Wilson in despair. He then left the courthouse and the judge found him in contempt.
On his way out of the courtroom, he noticed you sitting and winched, making you even angrier.
House came back to find Cuddy on the stand. She told the court that she had the pharmacist substitute placebos for the oxycodone because she was afraid that House would be in a particularly vulnerable state. She even had an inventory report to back it up. Tritter accused her of perjury, but she only held back the inventory report because she didn't expect the matter to go this far, she said and looked at you this time. The judge chastised House and dismissed the charges, not before instructing the bailiff to incarcerate House overnight for leaving the courtroom, and ordered House to return to rehab upon release from jail.
You went with Cuddy and Wilson to visit House in jail. Cuddy, furious that she had to perjure herself, told him that she would be working him harder than ever and left.
Wilson gave him his withdrawal medication, which you figured out was actually Vicodin.
You waited further back until Wilson left, only then you neared the bars separating the two of you.
“Great way to celebrate our one-year anniversary.” You told him.
Sighing, he put his hands on top of yours through the bars.
“It’s just one night.”
“You didn’t even learn anything from what happened, those were still Vicodin and you got your way.”
“No, I got out of jail. Well, sort of at least. I hurt you along the way and I am sorry about that.”
“You should be.”
He chuckled, “I’m sorry.”
Reaching between the metal bars, you cupped his cheek, “You’re going to make it up to me. For the last few weeks as well as being stuck in a jail cell on our first anniversary.”
“Anything you want.”
