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  Shattering the Resolve 
 by A.J. Raffles  

 She thinks I'm so mean.

So what if I am? I'm not an evil man; I'm a doctor. My entire life is
devoted to helping people. Since when is it required of me to be nice to
them as well? It shouldn't even make a difference. I don't understand why
it's important that I'm nice to anyone at all...

After all, I can't be nice to her.

No matter what I say, I never get any angry reaction out of her. On a
daily basis the only tones I have ever used have been biting sarcasm or
condescension. The most terrible, disgusting insults I've thrown at her
all bounced off like she never heard them at all. As if she's just
pretending to not to hear them. How can she not get angry? How can she
just stand there quietly and take it all in? And she wants to know why I'm
mean to her all the time?

You stupid idiot, I'm trying to get you angry with me. 

I'm not going to let her keep living like this. She can't dodge every
confrontation that comes her way. No one can be that accepting and nice
for as long as she has. You can't be happy yourself if you keep
sacrificing your own for the sake of someone else's. That's why I keep
pushing her more and more, just to get a goddamn response; she needs to
learn to deal with the bad as well as the good. She can't even tell a
patient's family honestly when their loved on is going to die, for fear of
upsetting them; how can she ever deal with grief successfully herself?

But nothing has worked yet. I've just kept pushing and pushing, even
resorting to sexist remarks, and nothing has shaken her out of her psuedo
tranquil faade. And goddamnit, she has to respond soon, because... I can't
keep doing this. It's harder and harder every day to force these nasty
remarks out of my mouth. It's never been hard to be nasty to anyone
before. Goddamnit, why does she have to be so nice?

What could I say, for example, when after viciously brushing off her
attempts to wish me a Merry Christmas, she unabashedly reached out and
handed me a present? How could that not make me feel like a miserable jerk
for how I treat her? After all I've said and done in my attempts to
provoke her, she still keeps going out of her way to try to make me happy.
Why does she care whether or not I'm happy? How could she care?

I remember the day she wished me a happy birthday. Christ, I didn't even
realize what she was talking about at first. Since when do people that
have known me less than a year know before I do when it's my birthday? 

Every day it's harder and harder to be mean to her, because every day I
want less and less for her to be angry with me. 

I don't want her to hate me. But I have to keep trying. What I want isn't
as important as what she needs. I'm willing to sacrifice what I want.

In that respect, I guess she and I aren't as different as we seem.

  
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the
ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of
Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House
(and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property
of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I
am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive
no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement
nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the
show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.