Back in the Saddle (Part 2/2)

[1985laurie.livejournal.com]

The second part...thus completing the fic (told ya it was a short one!) 

Enjoy, and let me know what you think, please!

“Err, House...how are we gonna get out of here?” Wilson asked, breaking the silence between the two.
 

“Don’t ask questions to which you know I don’t have the answer to…” House replied, gingerly picking himself up off the floor and limping over to the boxes behind. 

“Wait! Wh-where are you going?” Wilson stuttered, trying to tilt his head back to see House; he wouldn’t put it past House to leave him stranded here for the night. 

“Well, I figured I may as well get what we came for…” the diagnostician answered, without pausing in his rummaging; “you’re not ruining it for me” he added accusingly. 

Wilson sighed, staring at the various pipes and units fixed to the ceiling; “I want to see it” he stated, hearing House sniggering behind him. 

“Sometimes you really do ask for it” the other man said devilishly, throwing the pink thong in Wilson’s direction; he was unable to suppress a laugh as the item landed precariously close to his head. 

“You’ve got a sick sense of humour” Wilson grumbled as he picked the article up between his thumb and forefinger; effectively, dangling the thong over his own face to get a better look at it. 

“Thanks” House acknowledged, obviously thinking that Wilson was complimenting him…or at least, pretending to believe that, just to annoy Wilson.   

“Err, is everything okay in here?” came an uncertain voice from the top of the stairs. Wilson cursed under his breath as he recognised the janitor, who had probably heard them whilst collecting his supplies from the room above. 

“Everything’s fine” House called back cheerfully; “but you’re interrupting our private party” he added, much to Wilson’s dismay. 

“House!” he hissed angrily. 

The janitor stared at them for a moment, unsure of how to handle the situation; he had apparently stumbled upon some sort of kinky party involving two of the hospital’s senior department heads…it was times like these he wished he’d brought that cell phone with the camera in it... 

“Leave now” House ordered, “or you’re fired…”

The janitor stumbled out of the room; his job was far too important to be jeopardised by his curiosity. Even if it did look like the nice younger doctor was being taken advantage of by the gruff cripple. 

“You can’t fire a janitor…” Wilson scowled, “only Cuddy can.” 

“Yeah but he doesn’t know that…and that fact that he believed me, proves he’s more of an idiot than I thought” House muttered distractedly as he found a small plastic bag to slip the thong into before popping it into his pocket. “What?” he asked as he caught Wilson’s look of disbelief. 

“You do realise, Cuddy will not let you order a DNA test on that.” 

“She will after I claim that it’s what’s making the guy sick…all I’ve got to say is Infection” House stated smugly. “Besides, I won’t be performing the test – Cameron will…she doesn’t know about the bet” he explained, cocking his head to the side as he peered down on his friend. “I think it’s time for you to get up - before you get stuck there for good.” 

Wilson grimaced. House was right, as usual; he needed to get off the cold floor and get to something substantially softer, like a bed. “Okay…but it’s never hurt this much before…” he admitted coyly. 

“Now you tell me!” House groaned, “you couldn’t have let me know that little snippet of information before I sent the janitor away?”  

“I didn’t make you send him away!” Wilson argued back, stopping abruptly to compose himself. “Look…if you can get me on my feet; I should be able to make it out of here – just lift me up.” 

“Oh, you make it sound so easy” House crowed, painfully aware of the limitations when it came to a cripple trying to help up a newly-crippled friend. He stood firmly in the spot above Wilson’s head for a second, simply staring and frowning. 

“You don’t think you can do it?” Wilson asked worriedly; in all honestly, he didn’t particularly want to be seen right now, let alone rescued, by anyone else in the hospital. Especially if it involved having to explain to someone, why he was even in the basement in the first place!  

“I’m just surveying the logistics…” House replied calmly; “my leg doesn’t want to be reintroduced to that pile of boxes, so soon after their first encounter.” 

Wilson made an effort to look at his friend; it occurred to him that he didn’t really know if House had injured himself during the fall; he only knew that he hadn’t knocked him out. “Are you okay? Did you hurt-”

“No!” House cried, cutting Wilson off completely, “don’t you dare spoil my moment!” he warned, savouring the fact that it wasn’t him stuck on the floor. 

“You’re actually enjoying this” Wilson muttered under his breath as the diagnostician circled his prone body, eventually coming to a stop by his legs.

“So…How do you want to do this?” he asked, as though Wilson really had a choice.
 

“Quick and painlessly” Wilson replied, without hesitation. 

“Yeah, great plan” House scoffed before growing serious; “Right, I’ll pull you into a sitting position by your wrists; you get your legs tucked under yourself at the same time, and then if I lean back, you should be able to stand…” He looked over to the nearby wall; “If you do decide to bail out at the last minute; fall that way…least then I get to land on something other than the floor.” 

“Okay” Wilson sighed. He twisted his face into a grimace as he gingerly moved his legs; this was going to be painful…excruciatingly so.  

“Right…” House kneeled down beside him and laid his hands out waiting for Wilson to put his out. “On three…one, two – three!” 

Both men cursed as the exertion jolted their already agonisingly painful injuries; House’s shoulder screamed at him for daring to use it and his leg was throwing a tantrum. 

Wilson’s lower back felt as though it was being poked with something sharp and electrically charged; he felt himself become almost paralysed with pain when he finally got to his feet. He had the self preserving instinct to drop back down to his knees and return to his prone position; he looked to House who was desperately clinging to his wrists in an attempt at keeping him upright.    

“Jesus, Wilson! Move!” House growled angrily as he felt the Oncologist pull back on his hands; he tried to pull him up harder, struggling against his weakened shoulder. 

“I can’t – just stop, stop!” Wilson hissed through gritted teeth, letting go of House’s hands and leaving him to slam into the wall alone. 

Surprisingly, Wilson managed to stay standing without House’s help; it did occur to him however, as he watched House’s shocked face get further away from his own, that maybe he should have warned him that he was going to let go before he actually did.  

After a nauseating thud, House slid down the wall, looking slightly taken aback, tearing his blazer on the rough brickwork in the process. Wilson gave him a withering look that he hoped would show his remorse; “Sorry, okay?” he gasped breathlessly, as if to reinforce the point. 

Finding no new injuries, apart from his tattered jacket, House grinned in reply; he found the whole situation far too ridiculous to get angry. He stood, brushed himself down and unhooked his cane from the stair rail; “Ladies first” he said, motioning to the small set of steps. 

Wilson blew out a shaky breath and shuffled over to climb the few steps to the next floor. Hissing as another sharp bolt ran down the lower part of his spine, he grabbed hold of the rail for support.  

On his way up, he kept his ears pricked, listening for any sound that indicated House was behind him; it wasn’t long before he was rewarded by a string of obscene curses and the occasional grunt. 

Feeling slightly more relieved, Wilson stumbled over to the elevator and pressed the call button; he then braced himself using the wall, waiting for House to accompany him.

When House finally joined him, he could see the reason for his friend’s slothfulness; due to the unfortunate pain in his right shoulder, he had to use the cane in his left hand. Not something he was used to, or particularly enjoyed, doing. 

Wilson heard the familiar rattle of pills as House gingerly popped open the cap on his Vicodin script; no doubt he’d be asking for a refill very soon. He shook his head when he was offered one first, which got an exasperated eye roll from his friend.  

“This isn’t the time for indulging in self-martyrdom, Wilson. Take the damn pill!” House said, startling Wilson with his forcefulness. He quickly came to the conclusion that the older man was either in a lot more pain than he was letting on, or he was genuinely worried about seeing his best friend in agony. 

Wilson managed to dry swallow the pill, something he detested doing, just as the elevator arrived. Both men let out audible sighs as the doors cracked open, revealing their gateway back to civilisation and…Cuddy. 

She stood, arms folded, lips pursed and her eyebrows raised waiting for an explanation as to why two of her department heads were messing around in the basement. She frowned as both men shuffled in and took similar stances against the rear wall of the small boxlike room. 

“What’s going on and why have you been scaring my janitors?” she asked wearily, taking note of the Vicodin that House was eagerly dishing out to himself, accompanied by his, scruffier that usual, attire; she came to the swift conclusion that he’d fallen. “Is your leg-”

“No!” House cried maddeningly, cutting her off; “He’s the one who’s in so much pain he’s walking like a crab” he motioned to Wilson, who seemed happy enough to hide in the background for the time being.
 

Cuddy turned to her Oncologist with concern; “What happened?” 

“Bad back” Wilson clarified; “twisted it just now…House is looking after me” he added, fully aware that Cuddy would want him to see a doctor before he left the hospital. He, on the other hand, just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.  

“Err, okay” she said, taking another look at House; he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

“What? I am a doctor, you know – look, got my own nametag and everything…” he fumbled around in his jacket pocket, only to draw a blank. “Oh wait…I think Chase is ‘Dr House’ today…” he frowned as he vaguely remembered ordering his young subordinate to ‘go be me for a while’ and sending him down to the clinic. “You get the idea though, right?” 

Cuddy nodded slowly. If House wanted to look after Wilson, then that really wasn’t going to be a problem. In fact, judging by the way he’d been taunting his poor, elderly patient earlier, it would be good to get rid of him for a few hours – give everyone a little peace and quiet. Plus, from the state of his tattered jacket, he’d probably scare off the patients…more than usual. 

“You can leave early; but I want to see you both here tomorrow morning” she stated as the elevator reached the fourth floor. “Bad backs only get better if you keep active” she explained to Wilson before House brusquely shooed her out. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah” he moaned, “I forgot you were a specialised chiropractor” he added, sarcastically. 

“I forgot you were a specialised home helper” she shot back, catching the small smirk on Wilson’s lips. “Get better” she ordered lightly, then turned on her heel and left, content in the knowledge that she’d solved the mystery of where they’d both disappeared to. 

House held his cane in the doorway to allow Wilson the time to exit; he wasn’t used to being the quicker of the two, which became painfully obvious as he followed the younger doctor to his office, almost bumping into him twice. Even with his cane in his left hand, he had the long legged advantage of being able to take fairly substantial advances compared to Wilson’s pained shuffle.  

“We’re going to yours – and I’m driving” House confirmed, feeling strangely curious of Wilson’s hotel room; he’d never been there before… “We can still get by with the three P’s there, right?” 

“The three P’s?” Wilson had no clue as to what House was talking about; House sighed, sure that he had gone through this with him before, many times. 

“Pizza, porn and…” he gestured to Wilson, expectantly, to finish the sentence.

“Painkillers?” Wilson added optimistically.

“Well I was gonna say pancakes…but painkillers sound good too” House admitted, smirking; “I’ll go pick some up – and give Cameron orders to test the thong…still gotta win our money” he added, patting his pocket thoughtfully. Wilson couldn’t help but smile; he couldn’t imagine any other doctor getting away with saying that and actually being serious.  

“I’ll meet you at your car in ten…” House stated, painfully striding off to first get rid of the thong and then get some Vicodin. 

As Wilson watched his friend limp, glaringly unsteadily, down the hall, he couldn’t help feeling a little elated. House seemed to have taken it upon himself to prove his worth as a best friend; whether it was to compensate for past favours or just because he didn’t feel like torturing anyone today, Wilson was glad to know that, deep down, his friend was capable of a little compassion from time to time.

No doubt House would be moaning at him for the rest of the week about his shoulder and leg…but Wilson was prepared to put up with a little whining. Especially since it meant he’d still be part of the best ‘screwed up friendship’ in New Jersey…and honours like that were hard to come by!  

 

Finis.

 

  

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[teyla]

Your House is deliciously whacked out ^^.

And the three P's - Pizza, Porn, Painkillers - had me cracking up.

Very nice! Thanks for the great read :).

[1985laurie.livejournal.com]

"Your House is deliciously whacked out ^^."
I'm gonna take that as a compliment and say thanks :p

Don't know where the three P's came from; they just sorta popped into my head! Glad it cracked you up...

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