ext_42789 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
stare-me-out.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sick_wilson2012-06-29 02:17 pm
stare-me-out.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2012-06-29 02:17 pm
Entry tags:
What Is Now Known - Ficlet
Title: What Is Now Known
Author: Jacqueline -![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stare_me_out
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Word count: ~500
Disclaimer: Not mine, David Shore's.
Summary: Curing Wilson.
Notes: Written for the Camp Sick Wilson 2012 Cure!Wilson Challenge.
22nd October 2009
“You,” House says in his best I know something you don’t know voice as Wilson walks into his office just before lunch, “need to have your thymus removed.”
Wilson blinks in confusion; “You’ve ascertained this fact just by looking at me?”
“No, by looking at your chest CT from your medical this year,” House rises from his chair and triumphantly attaches two chest CT’s to the lightboard in the corner of the room. “Lucky for you and luckier for me, you are paranoid and insist on having a chest CT along with the standard x-rays.”
“House,” Wilson starts in his I’m annoyed that you’ve invaded my privacy, again tone, “the head of radiology has looked over the scan, I’ve looked over the scan and there is nothing wrong with my thymus or anything else in these images. Get a new case, you clearly need one.”
“You and the idiot running the radiology department are wrong,” House shoots back as he grabs his laser pointer of this desk, “there is a nodule on your thymus, 2mm x 1mm x 1mm, right, there,” House says aiming his laser pointer at a tiny spot on the CT, “It wasn’t there last year,” House indicates the lack of a spot on the previous CT.
“House. That is a shadow. It is nothing to worry about. Let’s get lunch.”
+++
House and Wilson eat in silence.
Towards the end of the meal Wilson abruptly speaks for the first time since they’d left House’s office forty-five minutes earlier, “One PET scan.”
House’s lips curl into something like a small smile.
+++
“There.” House says pointing to a small group of cells on the PET scan that could signal an abnormality.
“House,” Wilson says in weary resignation, “I’m not having major surgery because you’re bored.”
“The PET scan shows that these cells,” House has his laser pointer out again, “are absorbing glucose at twice the rate of the cells around them. That means cancer.”
“The PET scan is inconclusive and I have work to do. I’ll see you later House.”
+++
“I’ll do a needle biopsy.” Wilson says the next morning. It’s clear he hasn’t slept.
House smiles the same sort of smile he’d given when Wilson had agreed to the PET scan. Wilson finds it odd. Disarming.
+++
Two days later and House has his answer.
“Thymoma,” he announces, victorious.
Wilson sits opposite him. Expressionless. Subconsciously rubbing the spot on his chest where the biopsy needle had pierced his skin.
“Its treatable. Surgery. Next week.” House says, his tone softening.
Wilson nods.
+++
House sits at Wilson’s bedside in the surgical recovery ward, comforted by the steady rise and fall of Wilson’s chest.
The surgery was successful. Clear margins. No evidence of remaining disease.
Wilson will need follow up scans every three months for the first year and every six months for the four after that but his prognosis is excellent.
“I should have known,” Wilson croaks. They are the first words he has said since coming out of the anesthetic.
“You couldn’t have,” House’s voice is a whisper, “even I missed it until it was too late.”
Wilson blinks in confusion before slipping back into unconsciousness.
fin.
Author: Jacqueline -
stare_me_outPairing: None
Rating: PG
Word count: ~500
Disclaimer: Not mine, David Shore's.
Summary: Curing Wilson.
Notes: Written for the Camp Sick Wilson 2012 Cure!Wilson Challenge.
22nd October 2009
“You,” House says in his best I know something you don’t know voice as Wilson walks into his office just before lunch, “need to have your thymus removed.”
Wilson blinks in confusion; “You’ve ascertained this fact just by looking at me?”
“No, by looking at your chest CT from your medical this year,” House rises from his chair and triumphantly attaches two chest CT’s to the lightboard in the corner of the room. “Lucky for you and luckier for me, you are paranoid and insist on having a chest CT along with the standard x-rays.”
“House,” Wilson starts in his I’m annoyed that you’ve invaded my privacy, again tone, “the head of radiology has looked over the scan, I’ve looked over the scan and there is nothing wrong with my thymus or anything else in these images. Get a new case, you clearly need one.”
“You and the idiot running the radiology department are wrong,” House shoots back as he grabs his laser pointer of this desk, “there is a nodule on your thymus, 2mm x 1mm x 1mm, right, there,” House says aiming his laser pointer at a tiny spot on the CT, “It wasn’t there last year,” House indicates the lack of a spot on the previous CT.
“House. That is a shadow. It is nothing to worry about. Let’s get lunch.”
+++
House and Wilson eat in silence.
Towards the end of the meal Wilson abruptly speaks for the first time since they’d left House’s office forty-five minutes earlier, “One PET scan.”
House’s lips curl into something like a small smile.
+++
“There.” House says pointing to a small group of cells on the PET scan that could signal an abnormality.
“House,” Wilson says in weary resignation, “I’m not having major surgery because you’re bored.”
“The PET scan shows that these cells,” House has his laser pointer out again, “are absorbing glucose at twice the rate of the cells around them. That means cancer.”
“The PET scan is inconclusive and I have work to do. I’ll see you later House.”
+++
“I’ll do a needle biopsy.” Wilson says the next morning. It’s clear he hasn’t slept.
House smiles the same sort of smile he’d given when Wilson had agreed to the PET scan. Wilson finds it odd. Disarming.
+++
Two days later and House has his answer.
“Thymoma,” he announces, victorious.
Wilson sits opposite him. Expressionless. Subconsciously rubbing the spot on his chest where the biopsy needle had pierced his skin.
“Its treatable. Surgery. Next week.” House says, his tone softening.
Wilson nods.
+++
House sits at Wilson’s bedside in the surgical recovery ward, comforted by the steady rise and fall of Wilson’s chest.
The surgery was successful. Clear margins. No evidence of remaining disease.
Wilson will need follow up scans every three months for the first year and every six months for the four after that but his prognosis is excellent.
“I should have known,” Wilson croaks. They are the first words he has said since coming out of the anesthetic.
“You couldn’t have,” House’s voice is a whisper, “even I missed it until it was too late.”
Wilson blinks in confusion before slipping back into unconsciousness.
fin.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
PS I'm now wondering what is with Australia and great House/Wilson writers. You guys are overrepresented ;).
no subject
I may one day write a companion piece from House's perspective. I was going to include an explanation in this fic but I ended up really liking the ambiguity of that one line which hints at what is going on so I left it as is.
no subject
Wilson’s slow agreement to explore House’s idea was perfect. Great story!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I loved Wilson conceding to everything after his initial denials. perhaps he too had the pull of some unhappy future tugging on him.
no subject
This is superb!
no subject
I almost, almost wish it was longer, but thinking better, it's perfect the way it is! :-)
no subject
But of course House can turn back time! He's House, for God's sake.
no subject
Which is not to say that I necessarily want to know. This works best, I think, just as you have it, with no explanation but whatever the reader imagines.