snowblindrpg | [log] Noisy Black Part Three

For Pete's sake, I will tell Mummy!

[Seriously. Sherlock, get on your violin or something if you must make a racket.]

My bloody eyes are open, that's the problem!

Edited 2017-07-24 02:24 (UTC)

[He's getting into it now, though, and he has a backup track even if he can't make out most of the words coming out of Freddie Mercury's mouth right now. Something's really wrong there, but Stephen just gets louder still. Unlike House, he's not one hundred percent on key.]

Mama, just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun
But now I've gone and thrown it all away --!

[He's not showing any sign of stopping.]

[And House isn't relenting, either. Screw the Prophet. It can't take this away from him. He won't let it.]

Mama, ooh...
Didn't mean to make you cry
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come
Sends shivers down my spine
Body's aching all the time
Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

[It doesn't hurt Stephen the way it hurts House. His voice is clear if hoarse, and the pain of the pull on his lacerations with each breath isn't enough to stop him.]

Mama, ooh...
I don't wanna die

[His voice cracks on that, but he keeps going.]

I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

[Stephen can hear the music in his own mind, knows the beats. He leaves an awkwardly long silence here that might make Mycroft think he's gotten a reprieve, but in his head he's listening to a sweet guitar solo, and comes back in right on cue.]

I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning
Very, very frightening me

Galileo --

[Back him up, mumbly Freddie Mercury.]

Galileo

[House will back him up. He hears the guitar solo in his head, too. He can picture the fingers on the strings. And he will continue to back Stephen and harmonize with him through the next bit of the song.]

Galileo--Galileo
Galileo Figaro
Magnifico-o-o-o-o

I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me...

He's just a poor boy from a poor family

[He belts out the next line, some measure of unexpected desperation in his voice.]

Spare him his life from this monstrosity!

[This is...this is a long song. Stephen maybe didn't think about how long this song was when he started it. He's committed, though. He's maybe having trouble remembering a time when he wasn't in the middle of singing Bohemian Rhapsody.]

Edited 2017-07-24 04:02 (UTC)

Easy come, easy go, will you let us go?

[Maybe some creative license here with the lyrics, but House's head is a mess, reality and the song blending together. This feels like his life right now. This song is the only thing that matters apart from the eyes and the Vicodin. And god does he want his Vicodin.]

Edited 2017-07-24 04:07 (UTC)

Bismillah! No, we will not let you go

[It's Stephen's turn for his voice to crack -- this is the awful and terrifying truth of it, they will not let them go -- but House picks up the return call, the insistent demand to let us go, and Stephen finds strength to continue singing the call to House's response.]

Bismillah! We will not let you go (--let us go!)
Bismillah! We will not let you go (--let us go!)
Will not let you go (--let us go!)
Will not let you go (--Never let us go, oh)
No, no, no, no, no, no, no

[It will be his turn next to take up the response on the next lines.]

Edited (wow html fail) 2017-07-24 04:26 (UTC)

Oh mamma mia, mamma mia--Mamma mia, let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me!

[House lapses into silence as the bridge picks up in his mind. Finishing this song is now the most important thing in the world, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he needs to get back to drawing symbols. He needs his mouth for this, not the symbols. He needs this.]

So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?
So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

[Stephen's definitely slipping off key, but he finds his way back on it again quickly enough, all the pain of the last hours funneled into the lyrics.]

Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby
Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here!

[There's dampness under his hands, tears at the corners of his eyes, but he can hear it so clearly, so perfectly.]

[Again, Mycroft might imagine that his suffering is at an end as the guitar solo plays in House's mind, bright and clear. He mouths the chords and gasps as his fingers twitch behind his back, trying to play along.]

Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters
Nothing really matters to me...

[Stephen lets out a shuddering breath as the last cords die away in his ears.]

Any way the wind blows....

[It's a whisper, barely audible even to Stephen. He falls silent, breath hitching now and then, but something in his chest feels lighter.]

[But House hears it in his head and the track shifts. There are tears in his eyes and maybe that was supposed to be the end, but there's one more song, one more thing to pull him up.]

I've paid my dues
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime

[His voice hitches as a shudder of nausea wracks his body from withdrawal.]

And bad mistakes ‒
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through

[Stephen stills further, head lifting. His mental track had gone silent, but the music picks up, falls into place under the pained voice from the other cell. He lifts his voice again.]

And I need just go on and on, and on, and on --

We are the champions, my friends,
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions of the world.

[House gulps down a breath each lyrics, the guitar and drums playing in his mind over the break. His voice is getting weaker, but he's not going down without finishing this one. This is the anthem to fight to.]

I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls.
You brought me fame and fortune, and everything that goes with it.
I thank you all.
But it's been no bed of roses,
No pleasure cruise.

[It's getting harder still to understand his counterpart, but Stephen knows this song, too, doesn't need to hear it in order to listen to it. His voice has never entirely stopped feeling raw since -- since when? -- but he doesn't care, this is right, this is the heart of him being let out.]

I consider it a challenge before the whole human race,
And I ain't gonna lose!

[Stephen's key might be slightly off, but his words are clearer and just the connection with music is enough. He can hear Wilson in his mind, telling him that he needs people, he needs a team, he needs interaction. What he needs right now is to fight.]

And I need just go on and on, and on, and on!

[He's fourteen and he's in his bedroom with his shitty old cassette deck, volume turned up even though Mom will yell. Twenty-five and he's beating back exhaustion in the dark of morning in the cramped apartment he shares with three other students. Thirty-seven and he's home in his flat, celebrating --

Forty and he's here and he refuses to die.]

We are the champions, my friends,
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions of the world

[And House is a 16, sitting in the locker room after a lacrosse game. They'd lost. He knows his dad is waiting out in the bleachers for him to critique every play he'd made through the game. He knows his mom will just try to smile encouragingly and tell him it's Dad's way of trying to help him. And there's a new song that comes on the radio that one of the guys has blaring over the sound of the showers, the latest from Queen, the DJ says. By the final chorus, everyone in the locker room is singing along.

House is 18, his first year of college, his first year away from his father. He buys the record and plays it until the vinyl's scratched to hell and he knows every place it's going to skip. He's 24 and he buys his first electric guitar. He learns to play it along with the rest of Queen. He's 30 and he buys his first grand piano and learns to play it there. He's 41 and Wilson comes over after Stacy's left. They drink and eat Chinese food, trade barbs and listen to rock music until well past 3 A.M. House thinks about how much easier it is with Wilson than it is with Stacy, the woman who crippled him... The woman he loves and hates at the same time. It's only a few months ago, and he's pushing Stacy out of his life this time. For her own good. One of the few selfless gestures he's ever made. Wilson is there again to drink and listen to Queen. House plays the song on repeat, and falls asleep drunk on the couch next to his friend.

He's not giving up this time. He'll tear through whoever it is directing this if he has to.]

We are the champions, my friends,
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end.
We are the champions.
We are the champions.
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions!

Of the world....

[It's not in the original version, but hell with it. Stephen heaves a breath that's half laughter, half sob of pain. For the first time in what feels like an age he feels almost ready for whatever might come next.]

[House is too disoriented to say much more beyond that, but something in him settles a little easier as shivers and nausea wrack his body. When he's rested, he thinks, he'll be able to talk more. He'll be more coherent.

And he won't break.]

[log] Noisy Black Part Three - Mingle [closed]

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