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alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sick_wilson2007-07-13 09:42 pm
alanwolfmoon.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2007-07-13 09:42 pm
trash cans beware (ch 19)
Title: Trash cans beware (ch 19)
Pairing: House / Wilson
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG 13--(if the h word merits this, if not, pg)
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.
this story had been rather serious lately. it still is. but this time with olive flavored pringles.
oh, and here's a bit of a poll for you guys.
it's for what a future patient will have.
(not john house...maybe. depends on what you chose. but probably not. certainly not if you chose ears. he has to be able to hear house get to gloat over him, doesn't he.)
liver
kidneys
lungs/throat (yay, less talking, more actual plot)
eyes
ears (aww, wilson will have to share)
bones
muscles
congenital defect
std
suggest your own
and now for the...um....er....ok, i have officially run out of clever things to say here and when i say "links."
i am now resorting to slightly twisting quotes....
Pairing: House / Wilson
Author:
alanwolfmoonRating: PG 13--(if the h word merits this, if not, pg)
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.
this story had been rather serious lately. it still is. but this time with olive flavored pringles.
oh, and here's a bit of a poll for you guys.
it's for what a future patient will have.
(not john house...maybe. depends on what you chose. but probably not. certainly not if you chose ears. he has to be able to hear house get to gloat over him, doesn't he.)
liver
kidneys
lungs/throat (yay, less talking, more actual plot)
eyes
ears (aww, wilson will have to share)
bones
muscles
congenital defect
std
suggest your own
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
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http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wilson/53452.html#cutid1
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
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http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
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http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wi
http://community.livejournal.com/sick_wilson/53452.html#cutid1
and now for the...um....er....ok, i have officially run out of clever things to say here and when i say "links."
i am now resorting to slightly twisting quotes....
Ch 19
“So, how’d it go?” asked Wilson, looking at his friend as house came through the door, and trying to read the spinning expression on his face.
“Other than narrowly avoiding a fistfight between a middle aged cripple and a seventy year old man ok.”
“You’re dad and you?”
“No, I’m the middle aged cripple. He’s the seventy year old man. You got the order mixed up.”
Wilson sighed.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It would have been a really pathetic fight, you should be glad you weren’t.”
“No, I mean to break some of the tension.”
“It’s still good you weren’t there. Got some things cleared up.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” said House as he limped into the kitchen and turned the water on.
Wilson sighed, got up, and tottered into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you with dinner.”
“Don’t drop stuff.”
“I won’t.”
“Is....that a hand print?” asked Cameron, as she walked into the differential room.
“It surprise you?”
“Well...I guess not....”
“Good, moving on, we eliminated inherited auto immune, lets try infectious auto immune.”
“The patient is two months old!”
“Did I say “HIV”? No, I said infectious auto immune. Go test.”
Cameron glared, and then left.
“So....that hand print is too big for a girl.”
House glared at Foreman.
“How would you know. Do hand prints even show up on black people?”
“No. But I’ve seen Chase come in with them loads of times.”
“Hey! Uh...fine...”
“You push Wilson too far or something?”
“Nope.” said Wilson, staggering in and nearly falling after passing the support of the doorway.
Chase steadied him.
“Dude...how’d you even get here?”
“It got worse on the way.”
“I would hope so, you were supposed to be on the fifth floor.”
“I was. Elevator rides are getting to be rather annoying.”
“Oh.”
“So, male handspring? You go to a bar or something?
“Can we please ignore my handspring and get back to the patient?”
“Nope.”
House sighed.
“Annoying former patient, ok? Now, how about we deal with the current patient before she ends up slapping me too.”
“I’m all for her slapping you, but I also do not think she has auto immune.”
“Oh?”
“She’s two months old. It would have to be her mother.”
“Which is exactly why I told Cameron that the patient had auto immune. I was trying to judge her relative level of distraction by seeing how long it took her to realize the eighth biggest fact in her specialty. Six months of mommy protection. It’s been two days. Chase, have you two been doing the whoo whoo in the closets again?”
“No! I mean...no.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not in the last month, ok?”
“Obviously, otherwise you’d be more distracted than her. She’s got more practice at hiding her signals.” said House, pointing to his cane and smirking.
Chase took a moment.
“House!”
House sniggered.
Foreman shook his head, laughing quietly.
Wilson sighed.
“What?” asked House.
“It’s not sex, ok? just leave her alone.”
House stared at him.
“She told you something, didn’t she? I knew having you in here all the time was a good idea.”
“Oh, stop it house, really, I promised not to tell you or anyone.”
“Chase, Foreman, go test the mom for auto immune disorders.”
“But....oh, fine.”
Chase left, followed by foreman, who was still grinning slightly.
“So, spill.” said House, turning back to the couch.
“No.” said Wilson, somewhat indignantly.
“Aww, come on, don’t be such a spoilsport.”
“House, if there’s anything that applies to neither of us at the moment, it is any phrase that has to do with the word ‘sport’”
“You’re avoiding the issue. That means you’re not sure if you’re going to keep it a secret or not.”
“House, seriously.”
“It’s her husband’s friend, isn’t it?”
Wilson blinked.
He had totally forgotten that House had found out about that.
“House, it can’t be her immune system! She’s two months old! She’s still being protected by her mom’s antibodies.” said Cameron, sweeping in.
“Yeah. Which is why Chase and Foreman have been off testing the mom. You’re seeing your dead hubby’s former best friend, aren’t you?”
Wilson covered his face.
“I didn’t tell him. I told him three weeks ago when it was the day before the anniversary. I didn’t tell him anything since.”
“Oh, yes, you’re so good at keeping secrets.”
“So? You got slapped by your dad at least twice.”
House stopped mid snark.
“That was *definitely* not me.” said Wilson, looking as surprised as House, although less horror stricken.
“How...how the hell did you find that out?”
“Your mom sent me an invitation to dinner.”
House groaned, and put his head in his hands.
“It had to be you, didn’t it. It couldn’t have been Chase or Foreman. It had to be you.”
“I accepted.”
House looked up, utterly horrified.
“Then cancel.”
“No.”
Cameron left to go join Chase and Foreman.
House groaned again, and started hitting his head on his cane, slowly and rthymicly.
“Well....maybe she and your dad will get along?”
“No way. Cameron is going to end up getting totally bowled over by him. She’s too nice. And then she’ll try and “understand” me.”
“You have a point.”
House and Wilson remained silent, thinking of what on earth they were going to do in light of this most recent development.
“Nng...”
“Wilson?”
“Shut up House.”
“Sorry.”
House had opened a closet to look for a can of aerosol anti-bacterial spray to see what the ingredients of the kind that were used in the hospital were, only to find Wilson in a corner, having what appeared to be a migraine.
House closed the door, walking into the dark room.
“Hey.” he said quietly to let Wilson know he was still there.
“Rnnnnng.”
“Hey, don’t stress yourself. That’s what got you into such a state that you ended up crying in the bathroom, remember?”
“I’m not stressing myself. You’re the one who kept pacing straight through to breakfast.”
“Well, I have a reason for it.”
“And I don’t?”
“What do you mean?”
“What the hell is it that you won’t tell me?”
House made a sound somewhere between choking and sighing.
“Nothing.”
“It isn’t about your dad, because you started to say it before your mom called. It isn’t about Cameron’s husband’s friend, because of the context. It isn’t about a patient, it isn’t about your vicodin, it isn’t about cuddy, what the hell is it about?”
“You’re going to make your headache worse by talking.”
“You really think that’s going to stop me?”
“It was worth a shot.”
“No, it wasn’t. Tell me.”
House sighed.
Wilson couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but he heard some amount of desperation in the sigh.
“House, what is it?”
“It’s....nothing.”
House was reflecting that it might actually be easier to say things in the dark for most people, but Wilson could read him well enough that it didn’t really matter if he could see him or not.
“House...you’re not sick or something, are you?”
“What?! No.”
“Ow...”
“Sorry.”
“It’s...ok. Spill.”
“It’s stupid.”
“So? Getting addicted to vicodin is stupid too, but you did that. Staying addicted is even stupider. It’s not stopping you.”
House sighed again.
Desperation heavily tinged with embarrassment and annoyance.
“I....you....you could.......”
“What?”
“Get....seriously...hurt.”
Wilson blinked in the dark room.
House realized that it isn’t just easier to talk in the dark because you can hide your emotions, but so that you didn’t have to see the other person’s expression.
“House....”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
House was startled by Wilson hugging him.
“Just...thanks.”
It was at that moment that Chase and Cameron...fell...into the closet.
Chase looked up from attempting to undress Cameron without ripping her shirt.
Wilson let go.
Cameron stared.
Chase turned on the light.
Wilson winced at the bright glare.
“Hello.”
“Hello Chase, Cameron.”
“Good news. The antibacterial spray does contain alcohol.”
“Right.”
“So, how’d it go?” asked Wilson, looking at his friend as house came through the door, and trying to read the spinning expression on his face.
“Other than narrowly avoiding a fistfight between a middle aged cripple and a seventy year old man ok.”
“You’re dad and you?”
“No, I’m the middle aged cripple. He’s the seventy year old man. You got the order mixed up.”
Wilson sighed.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“It would have been a really pathetic fight, you should be glad you weren’t.”
“No, I mean to break some of the tension.”
“It’s still good you weren’t there. Got some things cleared up.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” said House as he limped into the kitchen and turned the water on.
Wilson sighed, got up, and tottered into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you with dinner.”
“Don’t drop stuff.”
“I won’t.”
“Is....that a hand print?” asked Cameron, as she walked into the differential room.
“It surprise you?”
“Well...I guess not....”
“Good, moving on, we eliminated inherited auto immune, lets try infectious auto immune.”
“The patient is two months old!”
“Did I say “HIV”? No, I said infectious auto immune. Go test.”
Cameron glared, and then left.
“So....that hand print is too big for a girl.”
House glared at Foreman.
“How would you know. Do hand prints even show up on black people?”
“No. But I’ve seen Chase come in with them loads of times.”
“Hey! Uh...fine...”
“You push Wilson too far or something?”
“Nope.” said Wilson, staggering in and nearly falling after passing the support of the doorway.
Chase steadied him.
“Dude...how’d you even get here?”
“It got worse on the way.”
“I would hope so, you were supposed to be on the fifth floor.”
“I was. Elevator rides are getting to be rather annoying.”
“Oh.”
“So, male handspring? You go to a bar or something?
“Can we please ignore my handspring and get back to the patient?”
“Nope.”
House sighed.
“Annoying former patient, ok? Now, how about we deal with the current patient before she ends up slapping me too.”
“I’m all for her slapping you, but I also do not think she has auto immune.”
“Oh?”
“She’s two months old. It would have to be her mother.”
“Which is exactly why I told Cameron that the patient had auto immune. I was trying to judge her relative level of distraction by seeing how long it took her to realize the eighth biggest fact in her specialty. Six months of mommy protection. It’s been two days. Chase, have you two been doing the whoo whoo in the closets again?”
“No! I mean...no.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not in the last month, ok?”
“Obviously, otherwise you’d be more distracted than her. She’s got more practice at hiding her signals.” said House, pointing to his cane and smirking.
Chase took a moment.
“House!”
House sniggered.
Foreman shook his head, laughing quietly.
Wilson sighed.
“What?” asked House.
“It’s not sex, ok? just leave her alone.”
House stared at him.
“She told you something, didn’t she? I knew having you in here all the time was a good idea.”
“Oh, stop it house, really, I promised not to tell you or anyone.”
“Chase, Foreman, go test the mom for auto immune disorders.”
“But....oh, fine.”
Chase left, followed by foreman, who was still grinning slightly.
“So, spill.” said House, turning back to the couch.
“No.” said Wilson, somewhat indignantly.
“Aww, come on, don’t be such a spoilsport.”
“House, if there’s anything that applies to neither of us at the moment, it is any phrase that has to do with the word ‘sport’”
“You’re avoiding the issue. That means you’re not sure if you’re going to keep it a secret or not.”
“House, seriously.”
“It’s her husband’s friend, isn’t it?”
Wilson blinked.
He had totally forgotten that House had found out about that.
“House, it can’t be her immune system! She’s two months old! She’s still being protected by her mom’s antibodies.” said Cameron, sweeping in.
“Yeah. Which is why Chase and Foreman have been off testing the mom. You’re seeing your dead hubby’s former best friend, aren’t you?”
Wilson covered his face.
“I didn’t tell him. I told him three weeks ago when it was the day before the anniversary. I didn’t tell him anything since.”
“Oh, yes, you’re so good at keeping secrets.”
“So? You got slapped by your dad at least twice.”
House stopped mid snark.
“That was *definitely* not me.” said Wilson, looking as surprised as House, although less horror stricken.
“How...how the hell did you find that out?”
“Your mom sent me an invitation to dinner.”
House groaned, and put his head in his hands.
“It had to be you, didn’t it. It couldn’t have been Chase or Foreman. It had to be you.”
“I accepted.”
House looked up, utterly horrified.
“Then cancel.”
“No.”
Cameron left to go join Chase and Foreman.
House groaned again, and started hitting his head on his cane, slowly and rthymicly.
“Well....maybe she and your dad will get along?”
“No way. Cameron is going to end up getting totally bowled over by him. She’s too nice. And then she’ll try and “understand” me.”
“You have a point.”
House and Wilson remained silent, thinking of what on earth they were going to do in light of this most recent development.
“Nng...”
“Wilson?”
“Shut up House.”
“Sorry.”
House had opened a closet to look for a can of aerosol anti-bacterial spray to see what the ingredients of the kind that were used in the hospital were, only to find Wilson in a corner, having what appeared to be a migraine.
House closed the door, walking into the dark room.
“Hey.” he said quietly to let Wilson know he was still there.
“Rnnnnng.”
“Hey, don’t stress yourself. That’s what got you into such a state that you ended up crying in the bathroom, remember?”
“I’m not stressing myself. You’re the one who kept pacing straight through to breakfast.”
“Well, I have a reason for it.”
“And I don’t?”
“What do you mean?”
“What the hell is it that you won’t tell me?”
House made a sound somewhere between choking and sighing.
“Nothing.”
“It isn’t about your dad, because you started to say it before your mom called. It isn’t about Cameron’s husband’s friend, because of the context. It isn’t about a patient, it isn’t about your vicodin, it isn’t about cuddy, what the hell is it about?”
“You’re going to make your headache worse by talking.”
“You really think that’s going to stop me?”
“It was worth a shot.”
“No, it wasn’t. Tell me.”
House sighed.
Wilson couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but he heard some amount of desperation in the sigh.
“House, what is it?”
“It’s....nothing.”
House was reflecting that it might actually be easier to say things in the dark for most people, but Wilson could read him well enough that it didn’t really matter if he could see him or not.
“House...you’re not sick or something, are you?”
“What?! No.”
“Ow...”
“Sorry.”
“It’s...ok. Spill.”
“It’s stupid.”
“So? Getting addicted to vicodin is stupid too, but you did that. Staying addicted is even stupider. It’s not stopping you.”
House sighed again.
Desperation heavily tinged with embarrassment and annoyance.
“I....you....you could.......”
“What?”
“Get....seriously...hurt.”
Wilson blinked in the dark room.
House realized that it isn’t just easier to talk in the dark because you can hide your emotions, but so that you didn’t have to see the other person’s expression.
“House....”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
House was startled by Wilson hugging him.
“Just...thanks.”
It was at that moment that Chase and Cameron...fell...into the closet.
Chase looked up from attempting to undress Cameron without ripping her shirt.
Wilson let go.
Cameron stared.
Chase turned on the light.
Wilson winced at the bright glare.
“Hello.”
“Hello Chase, Cameron.”
“Good news. The antibacterial spray does contain alcohol.”
“Right.”