200 members prompt

[alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com]

Title: Trash cans beware
Pairing: House / Wilson  
Author: </a>alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG (so far)
Summary:  In honour of the '200 members' prompt on sick_wilson
The prompt was  "Today wasn't the first time Wilson had been a little late for work recently, so House didn't give it much thought. Especially since the patient Cuddy had found for him was turning out to be more than just a case of intestinal flu, after all."

Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Only my seccond attempt at fanfiction. Ever. Reveiws and flames alike are welcome.

 Today wasn't the first time Wilson had been a little late for work recently, so House didn't give it much thought. Especially since the patient Cuddy had found for him was turning out to be more than just a case of intestinal flu, after all.
“How much did she vomit again?”
“A liter....” replied Foreman, tired.
House had, once again, decided to make a case a challenge to the team. Except this time, he kept making annoying comments about every new symptom, not just when their tests showed up negative. “And what color was it?”
 “Red and brown....”
“Hmm, sounds like she’s getting worse, what do you think dr. Cameron?”
“I think you’re being an ass, House.”
“No, what you’re supposed to say is “I think it’s lupus!” right dr. Chase?”
“House, will you please either go away or help?”
“Ah, but if I go away, then who will be around to tell you that your patient is about to start seizing? And if I helped, then the last three days would be a wasted exercise.”
 Their pagers went off.
“House....”
“You just going to stand there and let poor Sally die?”
“Her name is Amanda!” said Cameron, as Chase and Foreman hurried out of the room.
“I seriously doubt she cares if I get her name right at this point.” said House.
“House, what does she have?!”
“Oh, there’s Wilson, hey! Wilson!”
“House!” shouted Cameron, but House didn’t reply, he just limped fast into the hall after Wilson, and surprisingly, caught up.
“Hey, guess what the ducklings think panda lover girl has?”
“I really do not know House...” House blinked.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. I think I have an ear infection is all...”
“Oh, well, she just puked up a liter of blood, and started seizing. How cool is that?”
“Very...”
“Aw, come on, don’t you want to know what she has?”
“House, I’ve got a headache, I’m tired, and I’m late for meeting a patient. Go torment Cuddy, or the janitor, or somebody else not me.”
 House flicked a finger in Wilson’s face. Wilson flinched, almost backing into the wall.
“Fine...” House limped off in a huff.
Wilson shook his head, and then had to put a hand on the wall to steady himself.
“Note to self: no head shaking until stupid infection goes away.” he muttered, and resumed his walk to the elevator.


    “So, you figure out what panda lover girl has yet?” asked House as Chase, Foreman, and Cameron filed into the differential room.
“No, what?” asked Chase.
“Nice try.” said House, tilting his head and looking out the windowed wall of his office with an odd expression on his face.
“House, come on, if you won’t tell us what she has, then can you at least give us a hint?” asked Cameron.
“Fine. Poke her.”
 “What?” asked Chase.
“Poke her.” House got up, still looking out the window.
“Where?” asked Foreman.
 “Well, if I told you that, it would be more than a hint, wouldn’t it? Plus, it should be rather obvious.” House sat back down.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“We can’t just go in there and poke her in random places House!”
“Then don’t poke her in random places. Make a good guess as to where to poke her, and then poke her.”
“But House...”
Wilson was walking by the office, but didn’t glance inside.
“Hey! Wilson!” said House.
Wilson didn’t react.
House called Wilson slightly more loudly.
Wilson kept going.
“Wilson!” House shouted.
Wilson turned his head to look, and waved a case file at House, indicating that he didn’t have time. House sighed.
Then Wilson, as he took the next step, somehow missed, and ended up crashing into a trash can, loudly. House got up, and started towards the door, but Wilson just put the trash can back, and kept going, albeit slightly unsteadily. House shrugged and sat down again.
“What was that about?” asked Cameron, watching Wilson.
“He’s got an ear infection.” said House, plainly, “so, go poke her.”
The three filed out, and House watched them go, before getting up, and limping over to his bookcase. He scanned the shelves, and then, standing on the toes of his left foot, reached up and pulled down a large volume, narrowly avoiding getting hit on the head.
He opened it to the first page, and sat down to read, putting his glasses on after squinting for a bit.


    “Hey, have you seen Wilson?” asked Cuddy, sticking her head into House’s office, and looking around, as though expecting to see the missing doctor hiding behind a chair.
“No, why?”
“He missed two appointments already today. Nurse Brenda says he never came in this morning." “He’s got an ear infection. Probably decided to stay home and forgot to call in.”
“Yeah, but I called his apartment, and he didn’t answer.” said Cuddy, looking rather upset.
“You have obviously never tried to wake Wilson up before.” said House, dryly.
Cuddy looked at him, and sighed.
“Tell your team what’s wrong with your patient, and go check on him.”
“Aww, come on, Wilson’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.”
“Go!”
“Fine...” House pulled his jacket on, and stuffed a book off his desk into his backpack. Cuddy caught sight of the title.
“Balance disorders of the inner ear?” she asked, suspiciously.
House pulled it back out, and opened it to the middle, showing Cuddy the playboy magazine hidden in the pages. Cuddy rolled her eyes, and left.
“Yay for old bookmarks.” said House as he pulled out the magazine, which read “issue 7, year 1997,”  and tucked it into the back of the book, starting to read as he left his office.


    “Hey, Wilson. Wilson, open your door! Come on Wilson, Cuddy’s going to get mad if I don’t find out what’s up! Wilson! Fine! I’m coming in! Don’t yell at me if you have a hooker in there or something!” House pulled a key out of his jacket pocket, and put it in the lock, jiggling it until it slipped in the correct distance, and he was able to turn it. House pushed the door open, and looked around.
Wilson wasn’t on his couch, although there were some blankets on it. House limped over and put his hand on the surface of the couch. It was warm.
 “Wilson?” he called, looking in the kitchen next.
There was a plate with a half eaten piece of toast sitting on it, and a  mostly empty glass of water. House heard sounds coming from the bathroom, and followed them, but hesitated as he reached the door. He didn’t particularly want to walk in on Wilson while he was peeing.
“Hey, Wilson! You in there?”
There was no answer, although the sounds resumed.
House frowned. It sounded like puking. He pushed the door open, and saw Wilson leaning over the toilet, heaving.
“Ear infection my ass.”
Wilson finished but didn’t look up.
“I *thought* it was an ear infection.” he said, resting his forehead on the back rim of the bowl.
House reached for the lever to flush it, but Wilson stopped him.
“Don’t....no spinning.” he said, lowering his hand.
House sat down, pulling his book out of his pack.
“A typical attack of Ménière's disease is preceded by fullness in one ear. Hearing fluctuation or changes in tinnitus may also precede an attack. A Ménière's episode generally involves severe vertigo (spinning), imbalance, nausea and vomiting. The average attack lasts two to four hours. Following a severe attack, most people find that they are exhausted and must sleep for several hours. There is a large amount of variability in the duration of symptoms. Some people experience brief "shocks", and others have constant unsteadiness. An unusual sensitivity to visual stimuli is common.” he read, watching Wilson between glances at the book.
 “I get a few dizzy spells, and you conclude I have Ménière's.” said Wilson, tiredly, looking up.
House stood.
“You get a few dizzy spells that cause you to be one to six hours late for work sporadically over the course of at least two weeks, well over the normal course of a ear infection.
 When you do show up eventually, you are practically asleep on your feet, and have taken the bus. You almost have a heart attack when I flick a finger in your face, don’t hear me when I call you until I shout at the top of my lungs, right before you crash into a trash can that is very large, and has been in the same place as long as you’ve worked there.
When I get to your apartment, I find half eaten, plain day old toast and lukewarm water sitting on your usually spotless counter, and your couch obviously being inhabited more than your kitchen.
Then I come in your bathroom, and find you puking your guts out, with minimal head movement, and complain when I try and flush the toilet which is very full of puke, suggesting that you were puking because of some balance problem, rather than because you had a stomach problem, which would feel worse if you were staring at vomit. I would have to be an idiot to conclude otherwise.”
Wilson sighed, and got unsteadily to his feet, looking totally exhausted.
House grabbed Wilson’s elbow as Wilson blinked, looking like he was going to fall.
Wilson leaned against House for a moment, putting a hand to his head.
House clenched his teeth slightly at the extra weight, but said nothing.
“Come on, are you going to puke again, or are you done?” asked House, as Wilson swayed.
“I’m done...” said Wilson.
“Ok then, come on. I’m not carrying you, and you’re going to fall asleep where you’re standing.” Wilson laughed slightly at the images, and, one hand on House’s shoulder for balance, walked out to the couch.
House stood next to his friend as Wilson tried to sit down without falling over, providing some measure of support.
Almost as soon as he was lying down, Wilson fell asleep. House waited until he was sure, before pulling out his cellophane, and dialing Cuddy’s number.
Instead of saying hello, Cuddy greeted House with an explanation of the past two weeks.
“Ménière's. You figured it out. You were reading about it. I talked to Foreman, who told me how Wilson was acting. I looked up what was in the book you were reading. It only mentions two other diseases. Neither of them fit at all. That playboy issue was over ten years old, and looked like it had been in that book for nearly it’s entire existence.”
“Yay. I don’t have to explain.”
“Is he ok?”
“Other than having been puking for about half an hour, and currently being asleep and totally exhausted? Yes.” House heard Cuddy sigh.
“He’s moving back in with you. No arguments. I don’t want him by himself. He’s too bad at taking care of himself normally, much less now, for me to feel comfortable with him being alone for at least the next month. Tell him when he wakes up.”
“You’re right. No arguments.” Cuddy blinked.
 “Good.” she said, and House hung up.
“That was unbelievably painless.” she muttered to herself as she sifted through her files for Wilson’s address and landlady’s phone number.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

That was cool. We got a mystery disease that needed House to solve, and Cuddy insisting on Wilson moving back in with House because Wilson didn't take care of himself. Excellent. Wilson's in trouble, I'd say, though, if House is his caretaker.

you never know....

[alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com]

glad you liked it.
yes, poor Wilsy...
but at least he gets someone who isn't going to coddle him.
he'd probably hate that.

[codysgirlkyla.livejournal.com]

Nice typo there. xD