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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 30, 2009 22:47:57 GMT -7
House made a most excellent jimmying of Wilson's locked office door ever, and he was kind of sad that he hadn't an audience to whom he could show off his breaking and entering skills. They were wicked mad skillz, yo.
Slipping inside, he shut the door and made his way to the desk. Wilson had been acting oddly lately, and he wondered why. Best way to a man's mind is through his date book, agenda or diary. Well, if Wilson kept a diary, House would have found it years ago.
He booted up the computer. While he was waiting for it to load, he leafed through Wilson's agenda/date book. Lots of cancer patients, lots of meetings. He frowned. Turning to the computer, he pulled up a web browser and checked the history. This was odd. Very odd. It couldn't be.
Could it?
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 30, 2009 23:03:06 GMT -7
Wilson had finally gotten a good job offer at Johns Hopkins. But, not wanting to seem too eager, Wilson had told them he needed a couple of days to think about it, although in his mind he was almost one-hundred percent sure that he'd take the job.
Walking back to his office after visiting a patient, Wilson's intuition told him something was wrong. Opening up his now unlocked door he knew who he was going to find on the other side. He let out a small, frustrated sigh as he stepped inside.
Stuffing his hands in his pocket he stood in front of his desk and looked down at House. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way." He truly was. He had meant to tell at least House about his decision in the next twenty-fours hours but House had saved him the trouble it looked like.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 31, 2009 10:38:16 GMT -7
House was surprised, shocked, hurt, but ultimately he wasn't any of those things. Wilson had a habit of running away. He married his wives, then started pulling away when his association with them made them stronger, less needy. Wilson emotionally drew away from his wives to House because in Wilson's mind House needed him. Some parts of it was House's need to make Wilson realize he had married a dull woman and so manipulating Wilson into realizing that he kept making these dumb, dumb mistakes. Some parts of it was Wilson's dull wives hating House's guts because on some level they sense the strength of House's bond with Wilson and are jealous.
The door opened, and Wilson was standing there, a little huffy with frustration. The other man gave him a woeful look, as always, apologetic just before he rips House's scarred and oft mended heart out and stomps on it. Wilson was actually leaving. He kept a cool expression on his face by dint of years of practice.
"You're leaving for John Hopkin's?" He doesn't sound like a kicked puppy. He doesn't. Maryland was only a few hours drive away, if he broke all kinds of speed laws. It's just... inconvenient, and maybe the culmination of over a decade of work put into Wilson, half done and formed of logical reasonings that made sense only when someone was drunk, high on vicodin and squinted. Wilson always grew a backbone at all the wrong times.
But... John Hopkin's?
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 31, 2009 10:50:06 GMT -7
Wilson nodded his head. "I am." He didn't feel he owed House any explanation as to why he was leaving. Wilson could make his own decisions about his life, whether or not he had good reasons to make those decisions. "I'll be out of here in a few days." Wilson closely watched House's reaction to that news.
He turned around and sat down on his couch, waiting for House to start yelling at him. If they really were friends, House would repsect his decision and let him leave. Then again, if they really were friends, House would try and convince him to stay. So, basically whichever route House took didn't matter.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 31, 2009 11:13:00 GMT -7
House wasn't sure what to do. Wilson always ran away. Vogler had him removed from the transplant committee, though Wilson had gotten that position back after Vogler made his exit. During that mess, Wilson tried to leave him-- the hospital. Wilson tried to leave the hospital then too, getting as far as packing up his medical encyclopedias.
"You're running away," House accused. "What are you really running away from? Cutthroat Bitch? Your sad, pathetic life? Your sad, pathetic, old, crippled sack of a friend? Those are all just excuses, James. Go on, tell me. Look me in the eye and tell me its all that and maybe I'll believe you."
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 31, 2009 11:23:18 GMT -7
Secretly, Wilson was glad that House was yelling at him. Some things never changed. That was somewhat comforting to know but it was also part of the reason Wilson knew he had to get out of Princeton-Plainsboro as soon as he could. He had gotten lucky with Vogler leaving. That didn't mean, though, that the next time he was forced to step up for House things were going to go that well again.
Wilson held House's gaze in his own. "I need to get out of here, House" he said, slowly. "I have too many memories here---some good...most bad. It's time that I start fresh somewhere else. I don't expect you to understand."
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 31, 2009 20:32:34 GMT -7
"You're damn right I don't understand!" House threw up his arms, snatched up his cane and hobbled to the window. He stared gloomily out the mild, cloudy world. In truth, he did understand. He knew Wilson inside and out. Knew that the only life lessons the other man had learned was to run from everything, run like his brother had done. The brother House never knew Wilson had, because his whole family never talked about him. Like he didn't exist.
When Wilson started working at John Hopkin's, House would become nothing but a faded memory. They might promise to keep in touch, but they were both too busy, too emotionally out of touch, (well, okay, House was, Wilson was very in tune with his feelings), both were just too... heartbroken. If Wilson left, it would be the end of the end. The chapter of their shared lives would be over. Turn of the page; new story. New cast of characters.
"I'll miss you," House said grudgingly. His arms folded in an angry self hug. He wanted to sulk and throw tantrums, but none of that would stop a Wilson who had made up his mind.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 31, 2009 21:15:48 GMT -7
Wilson hated to see House so upset. The best thing for everyone involved was for Wilson---the one who had inarguably started the whole mess---to leave, and he wasn't going to let his friend's anger stop him. He had no intention of staying in touch with House (it was for the best), so he wasn't going to even bother making a fake promise to do so.
Hopefully, House would with time understand why Wilson had made the decision that he had. House had to know that it wasn't an easy thing for him to do. For the past couple of decades of his life, the only two things that had meant anything to Wilson were his job at Princeton-Plainsboror and his friendship with House. To leave those two things behind for good was one of the hardest decisions he had ever had to make.
Those three words hit Wilson hard. He really was leaving. This was really happening. He joined House over by the window and threw a friendly arm across his shoulders. "I'll miss you too," he said, sincerely.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 31, 2009 22:12:01 GMT -7
House closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he wanted to knock Wilson's arm away and go off to find a place for himself to sulk in peace, or to turn into the false promise of their ever enduring friendship. He snorted at his sarcastic thought, knowing himself well enough that he could never lie to himself and see a silver lining. There was no silver lining in this.
In the end, he didn't move at all. Wilson's arm across his shoulders was comforting, but House would not openly accept that comfort. He didn't refuse it either. He couldn't. It was Wilson, and that made it okay.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 31, 2009 22:20:13 GMT -7
The silence could only mean one thing. House was contemplating something. Wilson didn't mind. He had a few things he needed to contemplate too. He couldn't stay completely out of touch with House. Sure, Wilson wasn't going to make any effort to contact House but that didn't mean he wouldn't allow House to contanct him.
Finally breaking the silence, Wilson said, "Promise me one thing, Greg. Promise me that you'll take care of yourself. Don't do anything stupid...too stupid," he amended. "If for any reason, though, you do need my help don't hesitate to call."
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 1, 2009 0:11:47 GMT -7
At Wilson's words, something small and tight inside him eased and House smirked. "Why, Wilson, are you sure you want to promise me that? You know me. Think real hard on that one." His earlier defeatist thoughts forgotten. Melodrama of a man who had never stopped behaving like a child, but knows too much of real life experiences to really be that child.
"As for not doing anything stupid, I can't promise you that. As long as there are stupid people out there in the world I will do stupid things to them in return. It helps soothes my frustration."
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 1, 2009 6:31:35 GMT -7
Wilson chuckled. He hadn't expected House to say anything else than what he had. "All right. I recant all of my words, except for the calling me if you need help." Wilson had to hold on to some vestige of his old life, no matter how small it was. Rumor around the hospital had it that House and Cuddy were back together now, and, hopefully, that meant that House would have in her someone that would always stand by his side like Wilson had.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 1, 2009 12:13:09 GMT -7
House nodded, eyes still downcast. He had expected nothing less from his best friend. Wilson was the kind of guy who would always make himself be dependable, even when he was removing himself from his position as a shoulder to lean on. On the tails of that thought, House realized that Wilson would be back. He wouldn't be able to stay away forever.
In the long run, maybe this move would even be good for Wilson. The other man could take a step back. Learn to breathe again. Learn to live without Cutthroat Bitch or House dogging his every step. Get some perspective in life.
Somehow, that made House feel better.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 1, 2009 13:06:56 GMT -7
House was being unsually quiet, which necessarily wasn't a bad thing. If only Wilson knew the thoughts running through House's head. They would have put a smile on his face. Wilson knew too that he'd be coming back eventually...whether it would be weeks, months, or years was the only thing he didn't know.
Wilson removed his arm from around House's shoulders. "Would you like to go out for some drinks tonight?" Wilson suggested. He only had a couple of days left before he moved and, even though House was the reason he was leaving in the first place, Wilson wanted to spend as much of that time as he could with his friend.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 1, 2009 13:31:07 GMT -7
Drawn out of his thoughts, House looked at his friend. "Drinks sound pretty good," he picked his cane up and slowly made his way to the door. "Seven tonight at the Gentleman's Club sound good? Gonna have to give you a proper send off, and all." What other way to do that than to get rip-roaring drunk folding money into the g-strings of dancing girls who really knew how to show a fellow a good time.
"You can't say no," House waggled his finger as well. "I'm invoking my trauma card. And you traumatized me today, Wilson."
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