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sick_wilson2007-05-06 11:31 am
lady-insanity.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2007-05-06 11:31 am
Entry tags:
100 members prompt
Yay! I'm finally actually posting something somewhere!
ETA: God, I hate formatting here. It should be better now.
Title:Unforgiving
Rating: Mild Teen
Pairing: None, House/Wilson friendship
Summary: Wilson gets beaten up and doesn't want help. Based on the 100 members prompt.
Warnings: Mild violence and angst (I hope...)
Disclaimer: I don't own House and, as much as I would love for them to hire me, I'm still a screenwriter without a job.
Notes: This is un-betaed, so consider it a rough draft if you wish. This also my first time posting an actual fic to LJ (though it's not my first fan fiction) so bear with me, and feel free to apply sporks if needed.
ETA: God, I hate formatting here. It should be better now.
Title:Unforgiving
Rating: Mild Teen
Pairing: None, House/Wilson friendship
Summary: Wilson gets beaten up and doesn't want help. Based on the 100 members prompt.
Warnings: Mild violence and angst (I hope...)
Disclaimer: I don't own House and, as much as I would love for them to hire me, I'm still a screenwriter without a job.
Notes: This is un-betaed, so consider it a rough draft if you wish. This also my first time posting an actual fic to LJ (though it's not my first fan fiction) so bear with me, and feel free to apply sporks if needed.
"Wilson!" For once, House's voice lacked any mockery or sarcasm. He sounded genuinely shocked. "What in God's name happened to your face?"
“Nothing!” Wilson immediately attempted to cover the left side of his face with his arm. Right. That wasn't at all suspicious. House limped as quickly as he could across his apartment and pulled Wilson's arm away, holding it so that he wouldn't try to cover his face again.
Wilson's face was a mess. The left side was was almost completely bruised black and purple, and his left eye was swollen shut. The right side was also bruised, though not nearly as badly. His nose was still bleeding and there was blood on his face from various small cuts. House stared at him for one long second, then grabbed Wilson's other arm and pulled him over to the couch. “What the hell happened!”
“I...ow! House!” Wilson scrambled against House as he was pushed into the couch. House speed-limped to the kitchen and was digging around for a clean towel. Finding one, he stuck it under the faucet, soaking it thoroughly. He made his way back over to Wilson.
Wilson tried to move his head away. “House.”
“Hold still.” House pressed the towel against Wilson's face, cleaning off the blood. “Who'd you piss off to get this messed up?” He pressed the towel against Wilson's eye.
“Nobody. Ouch! Why can't you leave me alone?” Wilson batted at House's hands.
“What are you, two? Hold still, for God's Sake, or I'll poke your eye out.” House moved the towel over to Wilson's nose. Wilson twisted his head, but stopped hitting at House. “That's better. Do you have any other injuries? Your arms obviously aren't broken.”
“There are no other injuries. Just my face.” Wilson sounded slightly embarrassed.
“Are you sure? Wait, hang on a second.” House went into the kitchen and wrapped a bag of frozen vegetables in a towel. He came back and held the make-shift ice pack onto Wilson's left eye. “We should probably go over to the hospital and get you X-rays and a CT scan.”
“No,” Wilson said firmly.
House stared at him. “That's interesting. Why not?”
“I don't want them to find out. And that's kind of hurting my eye.”
“It's supposed to, it's cold.” House flipped the ice pack over. “So, it was either something stupid, something embarrassing , or both. So spill.”
“Will you leave me alone if I do?” Wilson asked, looking questioningly at House with his one good eye.
House hesitated, then nodded. Wilson sighed. “Okay. Nicky died today.”
“The Samson kid?”
“Yes. The boy who's mother tried to kill himself. Nicky had leukemia, and we caught it too late. He lived for six months, longer than we predicted. I went to tell his father, and he kind of freaked out.”
House guessed the rest. “He hit you.”
Wilson nodded slightly. “Just in the face, and a couple times on the arms when I tried to block him.”
“Does Cuddy know?”
“I'm sure Security told her. I was done for the night anyway, so I just came home.”
House was slightly shocked. “You drove all the way home like this?”
“I took a cab. Are you going to take that thing off yet?” Wilson asked.
House shook his head. “No.” He looked at Wilson. “Why didn't you just go to Princeton General? You could have easily told them that you fell or ran into something.”
“I didn't want to,” Wilson said, defensively.
“If you thought I was going to let you punish yourself, you were dead wrong,” House said. He dropped the ice pack. “Keep holding that to your eye. I'm going looking for antiseptic. And Tylenol, if I have any.” Wilson nodded forlornly, took the ice pack, and slumped back.
When he got back, House pretended not to notice that Wilson wasn't holding the ice pack to his eye.
“Nothing!” Wilson immediately attempted to cover the left side of his face with his arm. Right. That wasn't at all suspicious. House limped as quickly as he could across his apartment and pulled Wilson's arm away, holding it so that he wouldn't try to cover his face again.
Wilson's face was a mess. The left side was was almost completely bruised black and purple, and his left eye was swollen shut. The right side was also bruised, though not nearly as badly. His nose was still bleeding and there was blood on his face from various small cuts. House stared at him for one long second, then grabbed Wilson's other arm and pulled him over to the couch. “What the hell happened!”
“I...ow! House!” Wilson scrambled against House as he was pushed into the couch. House speed-limped to the kitchen and was digging around for a clean towel. Finding one, he stuck it under the faucet, soaking it thoroughly. He made his way back over to Wilson.
Wilson tried to move his head away. “House.”
“Hold still.” House pressed the towel against Wilson's face, cleaning off the blood. “Who'd you piss off to get this messed up?” He pressed the towel against Wilson's eye.
“Nobody. Ouch! Why can't you leave me alone?” Wilson batted at House's hands.
“What are you, two? Hold still, for God's Sake, or I'll poke your eye out.” House moved the towel over to Wilson's nose. Wilson twisted his head, but stopped hitting at House. “That's better. Do you have any other injuries? Your arms obviously aren't broken.”
“There are no other injuries. Just my face.” Wilson sounded slightly embarrassed.
“Are you sure? Wait, hang on a second.” House went into the kitchen and wrapped a bag of frozen vegetables in a towel. He came back and held the make-shift ice pack onto Wilson's left eye. “We should probably go over to the hospital and get you X-rays and a CT scan.”
“No,” Wilson said firmly.
House stared at him. “That's interesting. Why not?”
“I don't want them to find out. And that's kind of hurting my eye.”
“It's supposed to, it's cold.” House flipped the ice pack over. “So, it was either something stupid, something embarrassing , or both. So spill.”
“Will you leave me alone if I do?” Wilson asked, looking questioningly at House with his one good eye.
House hesitated, then nodded. Wilson sighed. “Okay. Nicky died today.”
“The Samson kid?”
“Yes. The boy who's mother tried to kill himself. Nicky had leukemia, and we caught it too late. He lived for six months, longer than we predicted. I went to tell his father, and he kind of freaked out.”
House guessed the rest. “He hit you.”
Wilson nodded slightly. “Just in the face, and a couple times on the arms when I tried to block him.”
“Does Cuddy know?”
“I'm sure Security told her. I was done for the night anyway, so I just came home.”
House was slightly shocked. “You drove all the way home like this?”
“I took a cab. Are you going to take that thing off yet?” Wilson asked.
House shook his head. “No.” He looked at Wilson. “Why didn't you just go to Princeton General? You could have easily told them that you fell or ran into something.”
“I didn't want to,” Wilson said, defensively.
“If you thought I was going to let you punish yourself, you were dead wrong,” House said. He dropped the ice pack. “Keep holding that to your eye. I'm going looking for antiseptic. And Tylenol, if I have any.” Wilson nodded forlornly, took the ice pack, and slumped back.
When he got back, House pretended not to notice that Wilson wasn't holding the ice pack to his eye.
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I liked it! Hope to see more from you soon :).
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Many thanks
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(Anonymous) 2007-05-06 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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Wonderful job^^
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poor Wilson, he always takes things too seriously...
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p.s. sorry for posting my 'thanks for the mood theme' comment in here. I knew it was up and wanted to say thanks, and for some reason posted it in entirely the wrong thread. Doh... *smacks face*