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sick_wilson2010-07-03 01:04 am
http://users.livejournal.com/_slytherin_girl/) wrote in sick_wilson2010-07-03 01:04 am
Entry tags:
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Title: More War than Peace
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_slytherin_girl
Pairing: House/Wilson (friendship)
Rating: PG (unless ‘damn’ would raise it to PG-13)
Summary: A quiet day off at home doesn’t go as Wilson had hoped.
Spoilers: Nothing really.
Disclaimer: I do nothing, I am nothing, I sit around here all day playing this sick, repulsive.... wait, that’s Twisted Sister. I don’t own them either. This is all not-for-profitWilson!Torture fun.
A/N: Written for the Camp Sick!Wilson ‘Tic Tac Woe’ challenge. Prompts were bookcase, car door, and cup of coffee. Constructive criticism please. My muse left me when I went to Ohio and I had a really hard time writing this so any problem you see, tell me so I can fix it. No beta because I’m sick of looking at it. LOL! Special thanks tobookgodess15 for giving it a quick look over and giving me plot suggestions (so I guess I had a partial beta. *shrugs*) Enjoy!
Wilson grumbled and stood on his tip-toes trying to reach his hard-covered copy of the War and Peace which someone (a someone who was taller and had a longer reach) had conveniently put almost out of his reach on the top shelf of his bookcase.
“Damn it House,” Wilson mumbled as his fingers grazed over the spine, trying to get a good grip on the book.
“I don’t know why you want to read that beast anyways. It’s boring. Do you really want to spend your day off reading about what a bunch of stuffy Russian aristocrats thought of Napoleon?” House had his usual casual tone, but he really did want to know. He had read it himself years before and for the life of him couldn’t figure out why it was considered one of the best novels of all time, much like he couldn’t figure out why Citizen Kane was considered the greatest movie ever made.
“I told you House,” Wilson replied, a bit breathless with his attempts to grab the book. “I wanted to expand my...” Mid sentence, Wilson floundered as he got a grip on the book, but lost his balance. Wilson flailed his arms in an attempt to keep upright, pulling the book out to the edge of the shelf as he did so.
Wilson breathed a sigh of relief at avoiding a near painful (and embarrassing) fall when House called out his name sounding panicked. Wilson managed a confused look before he felt something heavy hit him square on the top of the head.
***
“That’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital.” It was the first thing that House said that made any sense to Wilson as he looked up into the worried blue eyes of his best friend.
“What? No, I’m fine,” Wilson said gruffly, trying to sit up.
“Woah there cowboy,” House started, placing a firm hand on Wilson’s chest, keeping him in place. “Ten seconds ago you were swearing that your name’s Robert and I’m a British actor that you’re on a television show with, so no, you’re not fine. Who names their kid Hugh anyways?”
“I-I what?” Wilson stuttered, feeling like he’d just woken up from a feverish nightmare. What House was saying sounded vaguely familiar, but really didn’t make any sense either. “Y-yeah, okay, m-maybe I should go to the hospital.”
They made it to the hospital (though Wilson couldn’t remember it for the life of him) and he was able to get out of the car of his own volition (despite House’s slightly out of character protests to just wait a second). This became Wilson’s second mistake of the day when he tried to close the car door and discovered that his his thumb was in the way.
The second the door shut (and latched, Wilson realized in horror), the world came back to him in startling and painful clarity. He could hear House’s cursing, and the soft ‘fump’ of his can on the ashphalt as he rounded the car as quickly as he could. House opened the car door immediately as Wilson took in deep breaths in an attempt not to scream.
One good thing: suddenly his head didn’t hurt as much.
“Jesus Christ Wilson, what is up with you today?” House asked, obviously shaken but trying to come off annoyed as he literally peeled Wilson’s thumb from the inside frame of the door.
Wilson blinked stupidly, unable to answer. The pain in his thumb was white hot and the ache in his head was a dull throb that was making it difficult for him to think. House mumbled something else that Wilson couldn’t quite make out. House just shook his head and lead him into the ER.
***
A few hours later found Wilson admitted for observations with a severe concussion and a cast on his hand. He felt groggy from the concussion and his thumb hurt like a bitch. What was supposed to be a nice, relaxing day at home had turned into a nightmare of pain.
Wilson sighed and relaxed slightly when House limped into his hospital room. He wasn’t sure why, but his friend’s mere presence helped tone down the pain. It also didn’t hurt that House came bearing what appeared to be a steaming hot cup of coffee.
House gave him a suspicious look and put the coffee cup down on the rolling table next to Wilson’s bed. “Now don’t get any bright ideas, that coffee’s for me,” House said, as he dragged the visitors chair over to the side of Wilson’s bed.
Wilson rolled his eyes at House’s comment, but as soon as the other man’s back was turned, Wilson made a grab for the coffee. Unfortunately, it was Wilson’s left hand that was injured and his right hand often failed him. This time was no exception as he dropped the cup, spilling the burning hot contents all over his lap.
Author:
_slytherin_girlPairing: House/Wilson (friendship)
Rating: PG (unless ‘damn’ would raise it to PG-13)
Summary: A quiet day off at home doesn’t go as Wilson had hoped.
Spoilers: Nothing really.
Disclaimer: I do nothing, I am nothing, I sit around here all day playing this sick, repulsive.... wait, that’s Twisted Sister. I don’t own them either. This is all not-for-profit
A/N: Written for the Camp Sick!Wilson ‘Tic Tac Woe’ challenge. Prompts were bookcase, car door, and cup of coffee. Constructive criticism please. My muse left me when I went to Ohio and I had a really hard time writing this so any problem you see, tell me so I can fix it. No beta because I’m sick of looking at it. LOL! Special thanks to
bookgodess15 for giving it a quick look over and giving me plot suggestions (so I guess I had a partial beta. *shrugs*) Enjoy!Wilson grumbled and stood on his tip-toes trying to reach his hard-covered copy of the War and Peace which someone (a someone who was taller and had a longer reach) had conveniently put almost out of his reach on the top shelf of his bookcase.
“Damn it House,” Wilson mumbled as his fingers grazed over the spine, trying to get a good grip on the book.
“I don’t know why you want to read that beast anyways. It’s boring. Do you really want to spend your day off reading about what a bunch of stuffy Russian aristocrats thought of Napoleon?” House had his usual casual tone, but he really did want to know. He had read it himself years before and for the life of him couldn’t figure out why it was considered one of the best novels of all time, much like he couldn’t figure out why Citizen Kane was considered the greatest movie ever made.
“I told you House,” Wilson replied, a bit breathless with his attempts to grab the book. “I wanted to expand my...” Mid sentence, Wilson floundered as he got a grip on the book, but lost his balance. Wilson flailed his arms in an attempt to keep upright, pulling the book out to the edge of the shelf as he did so.
Wilson breathed a sigh of relief at avoiding a near painful (and embarrassing) fall when House called out his name sounding panicked. Wilson managed a confused look before he felt something heavy hit him square on the top of the head.
***
“That’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital.” It was the first thing that House said that made any sense to Wilson as he looked up into the worried blue eyes of his best friend.
“What? No, I’m fine,” Wilson said gruffly, trying to sit up.
“Woah there cowboy,” House started, placing a firm hand on Wilson’s chest, keeping him in place. “Ten seconds ago you were swearing that your name’s Robert and I’m a British actor that you’re on a television show with, so no, you’re not fine. Who names their kid Hugh anyways?”
“I-I what?” Wilson stuttered, feeling like he’d just woken up from a feverish nightmare. What House was saying sounded vaguely familiar, but really didn’t make any sense either. “Y-yeah, okay, m-maybe I should go to the hospital.”
They made it to the hospital (though Wilson couldn’t remember it for the life of him) and he was able to get out of the car of his own volition (despite House’s slightly out of character protests to just wait a second). This became Wilson’s second mistake of the day when he tried to close the car door and discovered that his his thumb was in the way.
The second the door shut (and latched, Wilson realized in horror), the world came back to him in startling and painful clarity. He could hear House’s cursing, and the soft ‘fump’ of his can on the ashphalt as he rounded the car as quickly as he could. House opened the car door immediately as Wilson took in deep breaths in an attempt not to scream.
One good thing: suddenly his head didn’t hurt as much.
“Jesus Christ Wilson, what is up with you today?” House asked, obviously shaken but trying to come off annoyed as he literally peeled Wilson’s thumb from the inside frame of the door.
Wilson blinked stupidly, unable to answer. The pain in his thumb was white hot and the ache in his head was a dull throb that was making it difficult for him to think. House mumbled something else that Wilson couldn’t quite make out. House just shook his head and lead him into the ER.
***
A few hours later found Wilson admitted for observations with a severe concussion and a cast on his hand. He felt groggy from the concussion and his thumb hurt like a bitch. What was supposed to be a nice, relaxing day at home had turned into a nightmare of pain.
Wilson sighed and relaxed slightly when House limped into his hospital room. He wasn’t sure why, but his friend’s mere presence helped tone down the pain. It also didn’t hurt that House came bearing what appeared to be a steaming hot cup of coffee.
House gave him a suspicious look and put the coffee cup down on the rolling table next to Wilson’s bed. “Now don’t get any bright ideas, that coffee’s for me,” House said, as he dragged the visitors chair over to the side of Wilson’s bed.
Wilson rolled his eyes at House’s comment, but as soon as the other man’s back was turned, Wilson made a grab for the coffee. Unfortunately, it was Wilson’s left hand that was injured and his right hand often failed him. This time was no exception as he dropped the cup, spilling the burning hot contents all over his lap.
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Oh, boy! If he was knocked on the head hard enough to be knocked right out of character, it must have been a bad blow!
"Who names their kid Hugh anyway?" -- snort! I shouldn't laugh at a sad story about poor, suffering, wounded Wilson, I really shouldn't. But I am. :^D
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Really glad you laughed actually. I like to think I'm far better at comedy so not laughing would've been far worse! :D
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This time was no exception as he dropped the cup, spilling the burning hot contents all over his lap.
Wilson was howling too loud to hear House calling him an idiot.
***
After the spill was cleaned and the burns inspected (House pronounced them fortunately mild but warned that future progeny might be born parboiled), House finally shut up about Wilson's thieving stupidity.
"You're stuck here for observation for twenty more hours," he said, "and I am not staying. So I got you some reading material."
Wilson groaned. The last thing he could cope with now was Tolstoy. As he began to object, House reached into his jacket and pulled forth something that looked decidedly unlike War and Peace. Still it was familiar, one of those things he'd seen in airport bookstores a half dozen times and almost bought. Its bright yellow cover was emblazoned with big block letters: SICK PUPPY.
"Very funny," Wilson said.
"I know," House replied. "And if you find a way to hurt yourself with it, I'm disowning you."
Sorry for the edits; multiple HTML!fail.
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So glad I sparked your silliness! There's really not enough in the world. :D Glad you liked it too!
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House probably thinks Wilson was hallucinating him as Hugh Grant. Heh.
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LOL! Probably! :D
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Absolutely laughing my butt off at Wilson's little hallucination. :D
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I was amused by the concussion-crazy thought of being an actor etc. also being vaguely familiar for some reason. nice little insert :)
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Who names their kid Hugh anyways?”
Exactly - it sounds like you are having an asthma attack or something. And the other one that gets me is "Guy".
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And the other one that gets me is "Guy".
Leave it to the French to have stupid name. :D lol!
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