http://rslhilson.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
rslhilson.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sick_wilson2011-06-23 08:52 pm
rslhilson.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2011-06-23 08:52 pm
Poison and Wine (4/15)
Title: Poison and Wine
Author: rslhilson
Rating: T
Summary: A dying Wilson returns home after a 5-year absence.
Spoilers: General spoilers through Season 7, although I've revised canon.
Pairings: Eventual Hilson
Disclaimer: I own nothing :( The fic is loosely based on the RSL film "In the Gloaming" (but not a crossover), and the title is taken from the song by The Civil Wars.
Warning: Eventual character death
Author's Notes: AU in that Amber survived the bus crash and took off with Wilson at the end of Season 4. Minus Wilson's absence, everything else that has occurred on the show since then is still game. Hopefully the only discrepancy is that I've kept Cuddy around (since it takes place 5 years post-Wilson's Heart, this would technically be Season 9 – and apparently we've seen the last of her after Moving On). Also, special thanks to srsly_yes for convincing me to post my work here...again. =)
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
"Wilson!" Cuddy rushed past House and through the doorway into the apartment, collecting an unsuspecting Wilson into a hug. "Oh my God!"
"Watch the cripple," House muttered, closing the door behind her and limping back to his spot on the living room couch.
"Cuddy," Wilson chuckled. "It's good to see you."
"I can't believe it," she gushed. Finally letting go, she accused him playfully, "You've lost weight, haven't you?"
House snorted from the couch, reminding her of his presence as she turned on him. "And you," she thundered. "Why didn't you tell me he was here?"
"Because I'm not a complete masochist?"
"And you've been ignoring all of my phone calls, and Foreman's. You know I wouldn't be here if you'd just pick up your damn phone."
House cocked his head over his shoulder from the couch. "Team missing me already?"
"Part of our agreement was that you'd be available to consult them."
"Did we get that in writing?"
"House, quit being an ass and call Foreman," Wilson cut in.
"Yes. Go – now." Cuddy scurried over to the couch and shooed House away, her high-heels clicking on the floor as her other hand gripped Wilson's and dragged him along. "Wilson and I have some catching up to do."
"Oh, right. Girl talk." House stood and grabbed his cell phone from the coffee table before making his way into the bedroom, smirking as he caught Wilson rolling his eyes.
"So," Cuddy grinned, taking Wilson's hand in both of her own as they sat down. "Tell me everything."
Author: rslhilson
Rating: T
Summary: A dying Wilson returns home after a 5-year absence.
Spoilers: General spoilers through Season 7, although I've revised canon.
Pairings: Eventual Hilson
Disclaimer: I own nothing :( The fic is loosely based on the RSL film "In the Gloaming" (but not a crossover), and the title is taken from the song by The Civil Wars.
Warning: Eventual character death
Author's Notes: AU in that Amber survived the bus crash and took off with Wilson at the end of Season 4. Minus Wilson's absence, everything else that has occurred on the show since then is still game. Hopefully the only discrepancy is that I've kept Cuddy around (since it takes place 5 years post-Wilson's Heart, this would technically be Season 9 – and apparently we've seen the last of her after Moving On). Also, special thanks to srsly_yes for convincing me to post my work here...again. =)
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
FF.Net link:
Chapter 4
* * * * *
The next evening, Cuddy looked pissed about having to see him, but not as pissed as House felt about having to see her. The angry lines around her mouth and eyes were nothing new, but the way they softened before she had a chance to grind out her scolding wasn't unexpected, either."Wilson!" Cuddy rushed past House and through the doorway into the apartment, collecting an unsuspecting Wilson into a hug. "Oh my God!"
"Watch the cripple," House muttered, closing the door behind her and limping back to his spot on the living room couch.
"Cuddy," Wilson chuckled. "It's good to see you."
"I can't believe it," she gushed. Finally letting go, she accused him playfully, "You've lost weight, haven't you?"
House snorted from the couch, reminding her of his presence as she turned on him. "And you," she thundered. "Why didn't you tell me he was here?"
"Because I'm not a complete masochist?"
"And you've been ignoring all of my phone calls, and Foreman's. You know I wouldn't be here if you'd just pick up your damn phone."
House cocked his head over his shoulder from the couch. "Team missing me already?"
"Part of our agreement was that you'd be available to consult them."
"Did we get that in writing?"
"House, quit being an ass and call Foreman," Wilson cut in.
"Yes. Go – now." Cuddy scurried over to the couch and shooed House away, her high-heels clicking on the floor as her other hand gripped Wilson's and dragged him along. "Wilson and I have some catching up to do."
"Oh, right. Girl talk." House stood and grabbed his cell phone from the coffee table before making his way into the bedroom, smirking as he caught Wilson rolling his eyes.
"So," Cuddy grinned, taking Wilson's hand in both of her own as they sat down. "Tell me everything."
* * * * *
"So what'd you tell her?"
Wilson shrugged, picking at the pepperoni slice that had fallen off of his pizza. "The truth."
"Which was?"
"That it was very nice of her to want to take me out to dinner, but I was tired, and maybe next time."
House glared at him, and Wilson sighed.
"I just told her that Amber and I split our time between Vegas and LA, but we drifted apart and I decided to come back for a while. It wasn't a total lie."
"Right." House frowned, squinting as he leaned in closer to Wilson. "You're yellowing."
"And you're cripple…ing."
"You should be happy I'm too cheap to get decent lighting in this place…and that Cuddy's too proud to get her eyes checked." House nodded towards Wilson's pizza. "You gonna finish that?"
Wilson wordlessly handed the paper plate to House, who immediately began to scarf down the half-eaten slice.
"House?" he said.
"Whaght?" House mumbled, still chewing.
"What happened between you and Cuddy?"
"Oh, for…" House gulped the food down and turned back to Wilson, glaring at him again. "What the hell do you care? Oh wait, I forgot. You have cancer and pathological caring syndrome. Can't decide which one of us is more unlucky."
Wilson ignored him. "You tell me that you crashed your car into her house, and you don't expect me to be the least bit curious?"
"Nope."
Wilson narrowed his eyes, and House sighed. "We broke up, she had a guy over, I was pissed, yadda yadda. Undercover bartending is way more exciting."
"So you took revenge by driving a car through her wall – classy. Remind me why you broke up again? You thought she was sick?"
House's gaze reverted back to his pizza crust. "Obviously she's fine."
"But there was a point when you didn't think so."
"And I may or may not have popped a pill to get through it."
"She found out?"
"So the story goes."
Wilson sighed. "You two could've been great together," he said.
"Says the expert on failed relationships," House muttered, but Wilson pushed forward.
"All I'm saying is, you could've made it work if you put some effort into it."
"You think I didn't try?"
"I think if you needed to go back on Vicodin to be there for her, then no, not really."
"Which you clearly know because you were there."
"House, I don't need to have been there to know that if you'd really wanted to, you could've done your part without the drugs."
House rolled his eyes. "Five years in paradise and you're still full of crap, Wilson."
"So are you," Wilson retorted.
House shrugged. "I'm okay with that."
"But you loved her, didn't you?" Wilson pressed.
House was silent, and Wilson's voice gently prodded him again. "Didn't you, House?"
"I thought I did. I don't know. Maybe." House tossed his plate onto the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. "What's done is done."
Wilson leaned back with him, lips pursed as he tried to think of something comforting to say. "Well…it was probably the same on her end, too," he finally offered.
"What do you mean?"
"You screwed up with the pills, but she couldn't accept you with them. If she really loved you, she would have. I would have."
House's eyebrows quirked, and Wilson quickly cleared his throat and turned away.
"Just to make it even," House replied smoothly, "I wouldn't have needed pills to sit at your bedside."
Wilson smirked. "Guess we'll see, won't we?"
House paused, his head drifting lazily onto his shoulder as he glanced towards Wilson. "You miss Amber?" he asked.
Wilson met his gaze, surprised at the sudden turn. "Yes."
"Why?"
"You can't think of even one reason why I'd miss a woman I loved?"
"Loved as in past tense, or love as in present tense?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Maybe this caring thing is starting to rub off on me," House shrugged.
Wilson snorted. "Yeah, right. And my ass is blue."
"Yellow, actually."
"Shut up, House." Wilson rolled his eyes at him, then grew serious again. "Do you miss Cuddy?"
"Nope."
"Did you miss me?"
House groaned. "Don't start."
"I missed you, you know."
"What was that about your ass being blue?"
"You're the one who stopped picking up your phone," Wilson pointed out.
"Because you were being a complete idiot," House retorted.
"Is that just your solution for everything now? Giving up? Since when do you ever give up?"
"You think I gave up on you? At least you're finally admitting you had a problem."
"You make it sound like I needed drugs to be with the woman I supposedly loved. Oh wait, that was you."
House grabbed his cane and pushed it into Wilson's leg.
"Ow!"
"Leave," House ordered. "Now. Go to bed. I'm too tired for this."
"Fine," Wilson shot back, standing from the couch. "So am I."
House nodded towards the empty pizza box and dirty plates. "Clean that up before you go."
Wilson's hands found their way to his hips, exasperated. "You clean it up."
"I'm crippled."
"And I'm dying."
"We're all dying!" House tossed his cane to the floor and threw his arm over his eyes. "I need a Vicodin."
"Knew you would," Wilson muttered, and slammed the bedroom door behind him.
Wilson shrugged, picking at the pepperoni slice that had fallen off of his pizza. "The truth."
"Which was?"
"That it was very nice of her to want to take me out to dinner, but I was tired, and maybe next time."
House glared at him, and Wilson sighed.
"I just told her that Amber and I split our time between Vegas and LA, but we drifted apart and I decided to come back for a while. It wasn't a total lie."
"Right." House frowned, squinting as he leaned in closer to Wilson. "You're yellowing."
"And you're cripple…ing."
"You should be happy I'm too cheap to get decent lighting in this place…and that Cuddy's too proud to get her eyes checked." House nodded towards Wilson's pizza. "You gonna finish that?"
Wilson wordlessly handed the paper plate to House, who immediately began to scarf down the half-eaten slice.
"House?" he said.
"Whaght?" House mumbled, still chewing.
"What happened between you and Cuddy?"
"Oh, for…" House gulped the food down and turned back to Wilson, glaring at him again. "What the hell do you care? Oh wait, I forgot. You have cancer and pathological caring syndrome. Can't decide which one of us is more unlucky."
Wilson ignored him. "You tell me that you crashed your car into her house, and you don't expect me to be the least bit curious?"
"Nope."
Wilson narrowed his eyes, and House sighed. "We broke up, she had a guy over, I was pissed, yadda yadda. Undercover bartending is way more exciting."
"So you took revenge by driving a car through her wall – classy. Remind me why you broke up again? You thought she was sick?"
House's gaze reverted back to his pizza crust. "Obviously she's fine."
"But there was a point when you didn't think so."
"And I may or may not have popped a pill to get through it."
"She found out?"
"So the story goes."
Wilson sighed. "You two could've been great together," he said.
"Says the expert on failed relationships," House muttered, but Wilson pushed forward.
"All I'm saying is, you could've made it work if you put some effort into it."
"You think I didn't try?"
"I think if you needed to go back on Vicodin to be there for her, then no, not really."
"Which you clearly know because you were there."
"House, I don't need to have been there to know that if you'd really wanted to, you could've done your part without the drugs."
House rolled his eyes. "Five years in paradise and you're still full of crap, Wilson."
"So are you," Wilson retorted.
House shrugged. "I'm okay with that."
"But you loved her, didn't you?" Wilson pressed.
House was silent, and Wilson's voice gently prodded him again. "Didn't you, House?"
"I thought I did. I don't know. Maybe." House tossed his plate onto the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. "What's done is done."
Wilson leaned back with him, lips pursed as he tried to think of something comforting to say. "Well…it was probably the same on her end, too," he finally offered.
"What do you mean?"
"You screwed up with the pills, but she couldn't accept you with them. If she really loved you, she would have. I would have."
House's eyebrows quirked, and Wilson quickly cleared his throat and turned away.
"Just to make it even," House replied smoothly, "I wouldn't have needed pills to sit at your bedside."
Wilson smirked. "Guess we'll see, won't we?"
House paused, his head drifting lazily onto his shoulder as he glanced towards Wilson. "You miss Amber?" he asked.
Wilson met his gaze, surprised at the sudden turn. "Yes."
"Why?"
"You can't think of even one reason why I'd miss a woman I loved?"
"Loved as in past tense, or love as in present tense?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Maybe this caring thing is starting to rub off on me," House shrugged.
Wilson snorted. "Yeah, right. And my ass is blue."
"Yellow, actually."
"Shut up, House." Wilson rolled his eyes at him, then grew serious again. "Do you miss Cuddy?"
"Nope."
"Did you miss me?"
House groaned. "Don't start."
"I missed you, you know."
"What was that about your ass being blue?"
"You're the one who stopped picking up your phone," Wilson pointed out.
"Because you were being a complete idiot," House retorted.
"Is that just your solution for everything now? Giving up? Since when do you ever give up?"
"You think I gave up on you? At least you're finally admitting you had a problem."
"You make it sound like I needed drugs to be with the woman I supposedly loved. Oh wait, that was you."
House grabbed his cane and pushed it into Wilson's leg.
"Ow!"
"Leave," House ordered. "Now. Go to bed. I'm too tired for this."
"Fine," Wilson shot back, standing from the couch. "So am I."
House nodded towards the empty pizza box and dirty plates. "Clean that up before you go."
Wilson's hands found their way to his hips, exasperated. "You clean it up."
"I'm crippled."
"And I'm dying."
"We're all dying!" House tossed his cane to the floor and threw his arm over his eyes. "I need a Vicodin."
"Knew you would," Wilson muttered, and slammed the bedroom door behind him.
* * * * *