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alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sick_wilson2007-07-06 09:42 am
alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2007-07-06 09:42 am
trash cans beware (ch3)
Title: Trash cans beware (ch 3)
Pairing: House / Wilson
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG (so far)
Summary: In honour of the '200 members' prompt onsick_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.
there is a part in this chapter where house and wilson are attempting to get up the steps to house's apartment. (why house lives in a place where he has to go up steps every day, I have no idea. but who cares...) anyway, when i was a kid, i remember listening to sherlock holmes stories on a cd. there was one where holmes was talking to watson about the difference between seeing and observing. he uses his steps as an example. watson has gone up and down the steps hundreds of times, but he doesn't know how many there are. holmes says this is seeing. then he says how many steps there are, and says that is observing. i couldn't help but stick this in, even though i have no idea which story it is from.
Pairing: House / Wilson
Author:
alanwolfmoonRating: PG (so far)
Summary: In honour of the '200 members' prompt on
sick_wilsonThe 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.
there is a part in this chapter where house and wilson are attempting to get up the steps to house's apartment. (why house lives in a place where he has to go up steps every day, I have no idea. but who cares...) anyway, when i was a kid, i remember listening to sherlock holmes stories on a cd. there was one where holmes was talking to watson about the difference between seeing and observing. he uses his steps as an example. watson has gone up and down the steps hundreds of times, but he doesn't know how many there are. holmes says this is seeing. then he says how many steps there are, and says that is observing. i couldn't help but stick this in, even though i have no idea which story it is from.
As they sped through the night, house felt Wilson suddenly tighten his grip, pressing his face into house’s back, and knew this had been a bad idea.
He had figured that Wilson would enjoy the ride, which he had, up till this point. House hadn’t taken the straight route home for that very reason.
Now, however, if he didn’t want to hurt Wilson, he really needed to get straight home.
Thankfully there were a series of parking lots that led straight to baker street, and were only a minute or two away.
House sped up, going well over the speed limit, knowing that how fast they were going was probably not going to affect Wilson, but the time they spent moving was.
“House...”
“I know.”
Wilson hugged tighter, pressing his face further into his friend’s leather jacket, smelling sweat and the chemical residue of hundreds of motorcycle rides, and trying to suppress his urge to vomit.
They finally reached 221 b, baker street, and house got awkwardly off his bike, turning and pulling Wilson off as soon as he grabbed his cane.
House was glad that he could park his bike so close to the door, but not so happy about the stairs leading up to it.
Sure, they were usually just a minor hassle, there weren’t that many, and he didn’t care how long he took to get up them, but today was different.
He was standing with Wilson, half steadying himself, half hanging, on house’s left shoulder.
House reached his arm around Wilson’s shoulders.
Wilson complied, and put his own arm over house’s shoulders.
House started to try and move them closer, and Wilson nearly tripped.
House sighed.
“House...this isn’t working...” said Wilson in a choked voice.
“Well what the hell else do you want me to do?”
“I need to sit down.”
“You aren’t going to feel any better until you can lie down.”
“House, I’m serious!”
“Wilson, what do you want me to do? You can’t sit on the steps forever, it won’t go away for hours, and sitting up will make it last longer.”
“I don’t care! I just need to sit down!”
House sighed, and lowered wilson to the steps.
Wilson immidiatly started throwing up.
House sighed.
Then frowned.
“wilson? Are you....”
“Go away.”
House sighed. He realized he was doing a lot of that recently.
“Look, just three more steps and you can lie down in the hall if you want. You’ll feel better if you do. And it’s not like my neighbors can get annoyed, as they already hate me.” said house, completly ignoring wilson’s order.
“Go ’way House...”
“Wilson, I live here. If you want to leave, then fine, by all means, but you can’t kick me out of my own apartment.” said House, sitting down to the right of wilson, and rubbing his back.
“‘f you don’t wan’ me ‘ere, then jus’ say so.” said Wilson, mumbling at the ground between heaves.
House was silent for a moment.
“Cuddy doesn’t trust you to be alone right now, but she can’t have you move in with her. Your wife is no longer your wife, and therefore would not take it very well if we dumped you on her. That leaves me. So, I guess we’re stuck with each other.” said House, evenly.
“So you don’t want me here.” said Wilson, looking up, and squinting at the spinning shape that he thought was probably House.
House sighed again.
“I...don’t mind all that much.” said House, slowly, looking the other direction.
Wilson stared at the spinning shape for a few seconds, and then tried to stand up, failing miserably.
“Hey! Don’t do that! You’re going to kill yourself!”
Wilson sighed.
House got Wilson settled so he was once again leaning against House, his right arm over House’s shoulders, and lifted.
Wilson staggered into House, causing them both to fall.
“I’m sorry. It’d be easier if you just called someone to help.”
“Yeah, like I’m gonna do that. Come on Wilson, work with me here. Just a few steps and we’ll be inside.”
“House, we got up two so far. There’s six.”
“You memorized how many steps there are to my apartment?”
“And you haven’t?”
House coughed slightly.
“Look, I’ll just stay here for a while, ok?”
“No. Not ok.”
“House! Seriously just go inside! I don’t want to get up!”
“Come on, I know you can do this, it isn’t *that* much different than that time we got totally smashed and couldn’t remember what Stacy’s phone number was, and ended up getting a ride from that police officer lady when she went to arrest us for drinking and driving, before finding out we were attempting to use the car phone, not drive. You were dizzier that time than you are now, and we got inside somehow. I know we can do this, come on...”
Wilson laughed quietly at the mention of the disastrous promotion party, and tried again.
They eventually got inside, and House was faced with a choice.
The couch was closest, but it wasn’t flat, the bathroom was probably going to be needed soon anyway, but it wasn’t at all comfortable, and the bedroom was the furthest away, but the most comfortable.
He stood there for a moment, before leading Wilson into the bedroom, helping him onto the bed, and going to get a bucket for Wilson incase he started puking without warning.
House got onto the bed next to Wilson, but didn’t touch him.
House watched Wilson’s face, seeing the discomfort, and wishing he could help.
He pulled out the bottle of vomit suppressants, and poked Wilson, trying to get him to take one.
Wilson opened his eyes, saw the pills, and nodded carefully.
House went to get a glass of water from the sink.
When he returned, Wilson had scootched, probably accidentally, into the warm spot house had left.
House limped over, and poked his friend in the shoulder again, then tried to hand Wilson the glass and pills.
Wilson reached for them twice, but missed both times.
House sighed, sat down next to Wilson again, and leaned against the pillows, helping Wilson with the water after he took the pills.
Wilson looked absolutely miserable, his face was pale, his lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes were shut tightly, and he had a hand over his left ear.
“You know...if you open your eyes it might help some.” said House, after a minute or two.
Wilson opened them, trying to look at House.
“I meant if you kept them open and still. Looking around the room isn’t going to help.”
“Your ceiling is somewhat boring, house. Forgive me if I got bored with it.”
House snorted, and got up.
He limped to the other side of the bed, knelt, and pulled out a cardboard box.
he reached into his top dresser drawer, and pulled out some tape.
Then he got back onto the bed, standing unsteadily on his left foot only as he reached up.
Wilson watched him, wondering what the hell house was doing.
As House sat down, Wilson looked back up at the ceiling.
There was now a magazine with a large picture of a naked girl stretching across both pages. Taped to the ceiling.
Right above Wilson’s head.
“House....”
“Well, you said the ceiling was boring...”
He had figured that Wilson would enjoy the ride, which he had, up till this point. House hadn’t taken the straight route home for that very reason.
Now, however, if he didn’t want to hurt Wilson, he really needed to get straight home.
Thankfully there were a series of parking lots that led straight to baker street, and were only a minute or two away.
House sped up, going well over the speed limit, knowing that how fast they were going was probably not going to affect Wilson, but the time they spent moving was.
“House...”
“I know.”
Wilson hugged tighter, pressing his face further into his friend’s leather jacket, smelling sweat and the chemical residue of hundreds of motorcycle rides, and trying to suppress his urge to vomit.
They finally reached 221 b, baker street, and house got awkwardly off his bike, turning and pulling Wilson off as soon as he grabbed his cane.
House was glad that he could park his bike so close to the door, but not so happy about the stairs leading up to it.
Sure, they were usually just a minor hassle, there weren’t that many, and he didn’t care how long he took to get up them, but today was different.
He was standing with Wilson, half steadying himself, half hanging, on house’s left shoulder.
House reached his arm around Wilson’s shoulders.
Wilson complied, and put his own arm over house’s shoulders.
House started to try and move them closer, and Wilson nearly tripped.
House sighed.
“House...this isn’t working...” said Wilson in a choked voice.
“Well what the hell else do you want me to do?”
“I need to sit down.”
“You aren’t going to feel any better until you can lie down.”
“House, I’m serious!”
“Wilson, what do you want me to do? You can’t sit on the steps forever, it won’t go away for hours, and sitting up will make it last longer.”
“I don’t care! I just need to sit down!”
House sighed, and lowered wilson to the steps.
Wilson immidiatly started throwing up.
House sighed.
Then frowned.
“wilson? Are you....”
“Go away.”
House sighed. He realized he was doing a lot of that recently.
“Look, just three more steps and you can lie down in the hall if you want. You’ll feel better if you do. And it’s not like my neighbors can get annoyed, as they already hate me.” said house, completly ignoring wilson’s order.
“Go ’way House...”
“Wilson, I live here. If you want to leave, then fine, by all means, but you can’t kick me out of my own apartment.” said House, sitting down to the right of wilson, and rubbing his back.
“‘f you don’t wan’ me ‘ere, then jus’ say so.” said Wilson, mumbling at the ground between heaves.
House was silent for a moment.
“Cuddy doesn’t trust you to be alone right now, but she can’t have you move in with her. Your wife is no longer your wife, and therefore would not take it very well if we dumped you on her. That leaves me. So, I guess we’re stuck with each other.” said House, evenly.
“So you don’t want me here.” said Wilson, looking up, and squinting at the spinning shape that he thought was probably House.
House sighed again.
“I...don’t mind all that much.” said House, slowly, looking the other direction.
Wilson stared at the spinning shape for a few seconds, and then tried to stand up, failing miserably.
“Hey! Don’t do that! You’re going to kill yourself!”
Wilson sighed.
House got Wilson settled so he was once again leaning against House, his right arm over House’s shoulders, and lifted.
Wilson staggered into House, causing them both to fall.
“I’m sorry. It’d be easier if you just called someone to help.”
“Yeah, like I’m gonna do that. Come on Wilson, work with me here. Just a few steps and we’ll be inside.”
“House, we got up two so far. There’s six.”
“You memorized how many steps there are to my apartment?”
“And you haven’t?”
House coughed slightly.
“Look, I’ll just stay here for a while, ok?”
“No. Not ok.”
“House! Seriously just go inside! I don’t want to get up!”
“Come on, I know you can do this, it isn’t *that* much different than that time we got totally smashed and couldn’t remember what Stacy’s phone number was, and ended up getting a ride from that police officer lady when she went to arrest us for drinking and driving, before finding out we were attempting to use the car phone, not drive. You were dizzier that time than you are now, and we got inside somehow. I know we can do this, come on...”
Wilson laughed quietly at the mention of the disastrous promotion party, and tried again.
They eventually got inside, and House was faced with a choice.
The couch was closest, but it wasn’t flat, the bathroom was probably going to be needed soon anyway, but it wasn’t at all comfortable, and the bedroom was the furthest away, but the most comfortable.
He stood there for a moment, before leading Wilson into the bedroom, helping him onto the bed, and going to get a bucket for Wilson incase he started puking without warning.
House got onto the bed next to Wilson, but didn’t touch him.
House watched Wilson’s face, seeing the discomfort, and wishing he could help.
He pulled out the bottle of vomit suppressants, and poked Wilson, trying to get him to take one.
Wilson opened his eyes, saw the pills, and nodded carefully.
House went to get a glass of water from the sink.
When he returned, Wilson had scootched, probably accidentally, into the warm spot house had left.
House limped over, and poked his friend in the shoulder again, then tried to hand Wilson the glass and pills.
Wilson reached for them twice, but missed both times.
House sighed, sat down next to Wilson again, and leaned against the pillows, helping Wilson with the water after he took the pills.
Wilson looked absolutely miserable, his face was pale, his lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes were shut tightly, and he had a hand over his left ear.
“You know...if you open your eyes it might help some.” said House, after a minute or two.
Wilson opened them, trying to look at House.
“I meant if you kept them open and still. Looking around the room isn’t going to help.”
“Your ceiling is somewhat boring, house. Forgive me if I got bored with it.”
House snorted, and got up.
He limped to the other side of the bed, knelt, and pulled out a cardboard box.
he reached into his top dresser drawer, and pulled out some tape.
Then he got back onto the bed, standing unsteadily on his left foot only as he reached up.
Wilson watched him, wondering what the hell house was doing.
As House sat down, Wilson looked back up at the ceiling.
There was now a magazine with a large picture of a naked girl stretching across both pages. Taped to the ceiling.
Right above Wilson’s head.
“House....”
“Well, you said the ceiling was boring...”
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:D