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sick_wilson2013-06-08 08:18 pm
mnstrtruckslash.livejournal.com) wrote in sick_wilson2013-06-08 08:18 pm
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Sick as a House Chapter Four
Title: Sick as a House Chapter Four
Summary: a story in which House comes to Wilson for help with a young cancer patient. The boy is a four-year-old son that Greg has been hiding from his friend and the world. It turns out the boy is very special, in addition to being very sick. The story follows House, his son, and Wilson through their relationships, through David House’s sickness, and some of the storylines from the show. Although his name is David he is in no way the character from my story “House Boys” or any of the other “David’s” out there, which I have noticed cropping up in other stories (although he seems very different from my character)
Warnings: slash (House/ Wilson), OOC, AU, some timeline differences and swearing, and Mpreg.
Rating: R but mostly on account of the use of the F-word in the third chapter.
This chapter is the end of this story, but I might write a sequel at some point, where the things mentioned at the end of the chapter will be seen.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
“Now that you’re getting better, we should do something big to celebrate. Maybe we can go on a trip. Disney world o we can go to Las Vegas for the Monster Tuck World Series,” I suggested to David a while later, after he and I woke up from our naps. House and I had gotten come up with the idea but we didn’t want to plan anything without talking to our son first.
“That sounds awesome, Dad,” he announced. “Maybe the wish people will take us there. They take kids to all sorts of cool places. They sent this one girl someplace in Australia and she got to see pet a real kangaroo and hold a koala bear, and go surfing and stuff.”
“Dave, are you talking about the Make a Wish foundation?” House asked. He was sitting in the kid’s isolation room, holding him and playing some sort of board game with black and white stones. “Um…they sent your redhead friend to NASA to meet astronauts and he got to fly in the reduced-gravity airplane, right?”
“Arthur says it’s called the vomit comet! He showed me a video. Him and the astronauts were floating around like in a spaceship. He said the plane goes up super high really fast and then flies down even faster and it makes all the gravity go away or something. Arthur said the wish people let kids do all kinds of neat stuff. Whatever you want!” House’s eyes were practically watering. “What’s wrong, Dad-Dad?”
“Well, unfortunately, Dave-Dave, you aren’t going to get a wish. Not from the foundation anyway. They only grant wishes to kids who aren’t going to get better…to kids who are really sick…” I knew what the problem was. The Make a Wish Foundation gives dying children a chance to do something really special. However, there are no organizations who do that sort of stuff for sick—but recovering—kids.
“But I had to get way more treatment than Arthur. I should get a wish too!” my son announced pouting. He could be so smart, mature, and brave; sometimes I forgot how young he was.
“Arthur isn’t getting medicine and he got to make a wish because the treatment won’t to help him,” I told my son. He stared at me with a confused in his eyes.
“Why not?” David pleaded, sadly.
“Your friend—Arthur is going home soon because the chemo didn’t help him. The foundation only grants wishes to children who are going to die,” House explained, trying to sound sweet. He held our son in his arms. After several minutes, Greg’s lips twitched into a tiny smile and he did that thing with his eyes. House was getting an idea. I’d know the look anywhere, and based on the flicker of hope the boy’s face, he did too. “But we can still go to the Monster Jam World Series in Las Vegas when you get better.”
“Really? You promise?” the kid asked. House said definitely. “Thanks. Dad took me to see monster trucks for my birthday. They are so cool!” David looked happier than I’d seen him in a long time.
“I think, if your doctor—who likes monster trucks just as much as we do—makes a few well-placed calls and you agree to let the Monster Jam press team take some pictures, we might—and keep in mind I said might, which means we probably won’t but you never know—be able to meet a few of the drivers, get a couple autographs, and maybe some other stuff.”
“Other stuff? Like what?” David asked. He was clearly ecstatic. There was a huge smile on my son’s face. I knew Greg’s suggestion was a brilliant one, and calling those people wouldn’t be difficult. I had to admit, it had a good chance of working too. Most organizations jump at the chance to do nice things for sick kids. It gives them all sorts of fantastic publicity and makes them look charitable, and caring. However, despite this wonderful idea, I knew House was holding something back, Dave could tell too.
“I don’t wanna promise you something only to have it not happen. I don’t think I can get this for you, but I want to try. Sometimes, it’s important to try and ask for something you desperately want, even if you don’t think you have a shot, because occasionally when you just take the initative, people do all sorts of things you’d never expect, and sometimes you get wonderful things you don’t actually deserve or haven’t earned/ paid for. I am going to ask for something, but we probably won’t get it. Do you understand?” The kid nodded quickly. “And you won’t get your hopes up?” Another nod. “I’ll ask if you can get in the truck with one of the drivers and have him take you for a ride, but they probably can’t let you. Insurance reasons.”
“What if they say no?” the kid wondered, rolling a toy truck across his tray.
“I’ll try everything I can to make it happen, and if I can’t, I’ll rent a monster truck—I know a place—and we’ll go for a drive together, alright? Plus, because I won’t be asking unless they agree to letting you meet the drivers and stuff—and if they do agree to the photo op, I won’t ask about the ride until they’re almost finished—it will in no way negative impact your chances of getting autographs and stuff.”
“Is Dad coming too? My other dad I mean…Wilson.”
“Well—if this happens, which it probably won’t—it would only be fair to let him come with since he will be the one who set it up for you. We’ll all go,” Greg promised. The little guy wrapped his arms around his father and then he looked over at me. “You okay, Dave-Dave?”
“I just wanna give him a hug too. Not just because you guys are taking me to the monster trucks either. I wanna thank him for my bone marrow stuff.”
“Unfortunately, you can’t leave your room right now, remember?” House explained, kissing our son’s head. “He has to stay in bed right now because he’s in a lot of pain at the moment. You remember how much it hurt when you had to get the bone marrow taken out of your hip, right?” Our tyke nodded once more, and even whimpered a bit. “And we only took a little bit out then. Look how much we took from your dad,” he added, and then Greg pointed up at the container. “He’ll be strong enough to come and sit in here with us by tomorrow afternoon though. And you can give him lots of hugs as soon as he does. Until then, how about you give me a hug, and I go into your other dad’s room and hug him and then come back.”
“Okay.” My son gave House the biggest, tightest, most loving hug I have ever seen and held on for nearly thirty seconds. He fell asleep shortly after that and House returned to my area. He hugged me and feathered gentle kisses down my cheek and neck.
“I wanted to thank you too. I’m sure I’ve said it a thousand times over the last few days, but it doesn’t feel like anywhere near enough…saying a couple of words doesn’t seem to compare to you allowing somebody to shove a giant needle into your hip and then let them suck out the marrow. I have to give you something huge, something good to show my gratitude.”
“Well you gave me David,” I replied, licking and sucking on his lip gently. “Now I have both of you. I have a real family for the first time in my life. I might be in more pain than ever before, but I’m also happier than I can ever recall feeling.” I laughed at the idea. “You have to marry me now, complete the fantasy.’
“No fucking way,” House whispered, part joking, part actually considering my offer, and part afraid of how terribly our marriage could end. “I don’t wanna be just another ex-Mrs. Wilson, or another notch on your bedpost.” I laughed and playfully swatted his bottom. “Fine but you’re not allowed to leave me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I wouldn’t have a life. I don’t know how to exist unless we’re together. You can sleep with other people occasionally but I’d rather it just be the three of us…er, well obviously we won’t have sex with the kid, but I don’t want you bringing women home is what I meant.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Frankly, Greg, you’re all I need—especially in the bedroom. I told you, I’m happy. I’ve never felt this way before.” House cuddled to me in bed. “So where are the three of us going to live?”
“I think we should get a new place, with a backyard and maybe a pool or something. That way David can have his own room, and there will be space for all our belongings. I can have my piano and my guitars all in one room, someplace to make music where I won’t bother you guys. We can get the kid a bunk bed so he can have sleepovers and we can get a nice big whirlpool tub for our bathroom…” House smiled.
“I like that idea,” I whispered, “it’s getting late. What do you say we get some sleep too?” My boyfriend—fiancé—nodded and smirked. “Goodnight House,” I said. “Or should I say goodnight Wilson.”
“Never…take…your last…name,” he forced out between yawns. “Maybe hyphenate but not for work.” I nodded in agreement. “Too bad we can’t have the wedding in Vegas. That would be a lot of fun.” I nodded and we fell asleep in each others arms.
The End
Summary: a story in which House comes to Wilson for help with a young cancer patient. The boy is a four-year-old son that Greg has been hiding from his friend and the world. It turns out the boy is very special, in addition to being very sick. The story follows House, his son, and Wilson through their relationships, through David House’s sickness, and some of the storylines from the show. Although his name is David he is in no way the character from my story “House Boys” or any of the other “David’s” out there, which I have noticed cropping up in other stories (although he seems very different from my character)
Warnings: slash (House/ Wilson), OOC, AU, some timeline differences and swearing, and Mpreg.
Rating: R but mostly on account of the use of the F-word in the third chapter.
This chapter is the end of this story, but I might write a sequel at some point, where the things mentioned at the end of the chapter will be seen.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
“Now that you’re getting better, we should do something big to celebrate. Maybe we can go on a trip. Disney world o we can go to Las Vegas for the Monster Tuck World Series,” I suggested to David a while later, after he and I woke up from our naps. House and I had gotten come up with the idea but we didn’t want to plan anything without talking to our son first.
“That sounds awesome, Dad,” he announced. “Maybe the wish people will take us there. They take kids to all sorts of cool places. They sent this one girl someplace in Australia and she got to see pet a real kangaroo and hold a koala bear, and go surfing and stuff.”
“Dave, are you talking about the Make a Wish foundation?” House asked. He was sitting in the kid’s isolation room, holding him and playing some sort of board game with black and white stones. “Um…they sent your redhead friend to NASA to meet astronauts and he got to fly in the reduced-gravity airplane, right?”
“Arthur says it’s called the vomit comet! He showed me a video. Him and the astronauts were floating around like in a spaceship. He said the plane goes up super high really fast and then flies down even faster and it makes all the gravity go away or something. Arthur said the wish people let kids do all kinds of neat stuff. Whatever you want!” House’s eyes were practically watering. “What’s wrong, Dad-Dad?”
“Well, unfortunately, Dave-Dave, you aren’t going to get a wish. Not from the foundation anyway. They only grant wishes to kids who aren’t going to get better…to kids who are really sick…” I knew what the problem was. The Make a Wish Foundation gives dying children a chance to do something really special. However, there are no organizations who do that sort of stuff for sick—but recovering—kids.
“But I had to get way more treatment than Arthur. I should get a wish too!” my son announced pouting. He could be so smart, mature, and brave; sometimes I forgot how young he was.
“Arthur isn’t getting medicine and he got to make a wish because the treatment won’t to help him,” I told my son. He stared at me with a confused in his eyes.
“Why not?” David pleaded, sadly.
“Your friend—Arthur is going home soon because the chemo didn’t help him. The foundation only grants wishes to children who are going to die,” House explained, trying to sound sweet. He held our son in his arms. After several minutes, Greg’s lips twitched into a tiny smile and he did that thing with his eyes. House was getting an idea. I’d know the look anywhere, and based on the flicker of hope the boy’s face, he did too. “But we can still go to the Monster Jam World Series in Las Vegas when you get better.”
“Really? You promise?” the kid asked. House said definitely. “Thanks. Dad took me to see monster trucks for my birthday. They are so cool!” David looked happier than I’d seen him in a long time.
“I think, if your doctor—who likes monster trucks just as much as we do—makes a few well-placed calls and you agree to let the Monster Jam press team take some pictures, we might—and keep in mind I said might, which means we probably won’t but you never know—be able to meet a few of the drivers, get a couple autographs, and maybe some other stuff.”
“Other stuff? Like what?” David asked. He was clearly ecstatic. There was a huge smile on my son’s face. I knew Greg’s suggestion was a brilliant one, and calling those people wouldn’t be difficult. I had to admit, it had a good chance of working too. Most organizations jump at the chance to do nice things for sick kids. It gives them all sorts of fantastic publicity and makes them look charitable, and caring. However, despite this wonderful idea, I knew House was holding something back, Dave could tell too.
“I don’t wanna promise you something only to have it not happen. I don’t think I can get this for you, but I want to try. Sometimes, it’s important to try and ask for something you desperately want, even if you don’t think you have a shot, because occasionally when you just take the initative, people do all sorts of things you’d never expect, and sometimes you get wonderful things you don’t actually deserve or haven’t earned/ paid for. I am going to ask for something, but we probably won’t get it. Do you understand?” The kid nodded quickly. “And you won’t get your hopes up?” Another nod. “I’ll ask if you can get in the truck with one of the drivers and have him take you for a ride, but they probably can’t let you. Insurance reasons.”
“What if they say no?” the kid wondered, rolling a toy truck across his tray.
“I’ll try everything I can to make it happen, and if I can’t, I’ll rent a monster truck—I know a place—and we’ll go for a drive together, alright? Plus, because I won’t be asking unless they agree to letting you meet the drivers and stuff—and if they do agree to the photo op, I won’t ask about the ride until they’re almost finished—it will in no way negative impact your chances of getting autographs and stuff.”
“Is Dad coming too? My other dad I mean…Wilson.”
“Well—if this happens, which it probably won’t—it would only be fair to let him come with since he will be the one who set it up for you. We’ll all go,” Greg promised. The little guy wrapped his arms around his father and then he looked over at me. “You okay, Dave-Dave?”
“I just wanna give him a hug too. Not just because you guys are taking me to the monster trucks either. I wanna thank him for my bone marrow stuff.”
“Unfortunately, you can’t leave your room right now, remember?” House explained, kissing our son’s head. “He has to stay in bed right now because he’s in a lot of pain at the moment. You remember how much it hurt when you had to get the bone marrow taken out of your hip, right?” Our tyke nodded once more, and even whimpered a bit. “And we only took a little bit out then. Look how much we took from your dad,” he added, and then Greg pointed up at the container. “He’ll be strong enough to come and sit in here with us by tomorrow afternoon though. And you can give him lots of hugs as soon as he does. Until then, how about you give me a hug, and I go into your other dad’s room and hug him and then come back.”
“Okay.” My son gave House the biggest, tightest, most loving hug I have ever seen and held on for nearly thirty seconds. He fell asleep shortly after that and House returned to my area. He hugged me and feathered gentle kisses down my cheek and neck.
“I wanted to thank you too. I’m sure I’ve said it a thousand times over the last few days, but it doesn’t feel like anywhere near enough…saying a couple of words doesn’t seem to compare to you allowing somebody to shove a giant needle into your hip and then let them suck out the marrow. I have to give you something huge, something good to show my gratitude.”
“Well you gave me David,” I replied, licking and sucking on his lip gently. “Now I have both of you. I have a real family for the first time in my life. I might be in more pain than ever before, but I’m also happier than I can ever recall feeling.” I laughed at the idea. “You have to marry me now, complete the fantasy.’
“No fucking way,” House whispered, part joking, part actually considering my offer, and part afraid of how terribly our marriage could end. “I don’t wanna be just another ex-Mrs. Wilson, or another notch on your bedpost.” I laughed and playfully swatted his bottom. “Fine but you’re not allowed to leave me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I wouldn’t have a life. I don’t know how to exist unless we’re together. You can sleep with other people occasionally but I’d rather it just be the three of us…er, well obviously we won’t have sex with the kid, but I don’t want you bringing women home is what I meant.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Frankly, Greg, you’re all I need—especially in the bedroom. I told you, I’m happy. I’ve never felt this way before.” House cuddled to me in bed. “So where are the three of us going to live?”
“I think we should get a new place, with a backyard and maybe a pool or something. That way David can have his own room, and there will be space for all our belongings. I can have my piano and my guitars all in one room, someplace to make music where I won’t bother you guys. We can get the kid a bunk bed so he can have sleepovers and we can get a nice big whirlpool tub for our bathroom…” House smiled.
“I like that idea,” I whispered, “it’s getting late. What do you say we get some sleep too?” My boyfriend—fiancé—nodded and smirked. “Goodnight House,” I said. “Or should I say goodnight Wilson.”
“Never…take…your last…name,” he forced out between yawns. “Maybe hyphenate but not for work.” I nodded in agreement. “Too bad we can’t have the wedding in Vegas. That would be a lot of fun.” I nodded and we fell asleep in each others arms.
The End