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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 8, 2009 15:55:17 GMT -7
Wilson had spent a restless night at the hospital watching over Angel. He couldn't complain about it, though. He had nowhere else to go. Tonight was a different story. He certainly couldn't spend another night at the hospital, and he wasn't about to ask Angel if he could crash at her place. There was only one other person he could turn to...
And why not ask House? House was the one who had wanted him to come back so badly. House had to live with the consequences of his desire.
Wilson parked his car and took out suitcase and duffel bag from his trunk. He flung the bag over his shoulder and picked up the suitcase, shutting the trunk with his free hand. He walked over to House's door and knocked.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 8, 2009 16:14:17 GMT -7
House sighed as he settled onto his couch with a glass of scotch and his remote in hand. The L-word was calling to him. It had been couple of days, and he was just looking to relax. Cuddy was resting peaceably (he had spent the previous night at her place), Angel's cat (and he used cat lightly considering the true nature of that demonic being) was fed and appeased with ritual sacrifices. He hadn't bothered going into work today, even as it was Saturday, but he did go home after spending a good portion of the day with Cuddy.
He just needed to unwind, to decompress, to just be House. Not a doctor, not a lover, just a man with scotch and lesbian television. His thoughts meandered back to the events of the day. Finding out Cuddy was pregnant with his baby had been stunning enough, but he hadn't really been surprised. He had known, subconsciously. His mind never really rested, always took apart everything he saw, deconstructed all the pieces and examined them for all they were worth. All the little pieces that told him Cuddy was expecting were there. He had just needed to suspend all the medical explanations and just accepted it for fact. It wasn't a miracle. It was just the right time, the right circumstances, the right chemical balance. Cuddy had been trying too hard.
When she stopped, well, that there was probably half the battle. The other half being Gregory House's exemplary sperm. Man, those boys could impregnate the impregnable.
Then House heard a knock on his door. Improbable, but he knew that it could be none other than Wilson. He knew that knock. It was Wilson's "I don't want to bug you, but I have no where else to go" knock. House sighed, put his glass down and paused the recording. Getting up, grabbing his cane, he made his way to the door.
Opening it, he stared wordlessly at the man on the other side. It was a familiar scene, something he had seen time and again before. Wilson and his bags of his few possessions, ugly ties and hair products. He didn't say anything as he finally tilted his head, signaling to Wilson to come in.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 8, 2009 17:51:23 GMT -7
Wilson wasn't surprised that House seemed to already know who his visitor was going to be. Only two people would ever visit House this late at night: Wilson and Cuddy. And using deductive reasoning Wilson had come to the conclusion that House and Cuddy had spent the day together since they were both absent at work.
"Thanks, House," he said, stepping inside. He set his bag and suitcase down by the door. This was like deja vu. Only, thankfully, this time he wasn't here because of problems with a woman. Making himself right at home, he strolled over to the couch and sat down. "The L-word?" Wilson asked, staring at the TV screen. He shook his head. He just didn't understand what possessed grown men to watch shows like that.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 9, 2009 22:10:58 GMT -7
House shut the door, watching Wilson walk across the room and plop onto the couch. There was just something limp in the way Wilson was walking. House shook his head, of course Wilson was limp. Angel had nearly been killed and Wilson had almost lost that. Wilson didn't actually have Angel, but he had the potential of Angel. House had seen Wilson falling half in love with the cardiologist right from the start. Call it whatever it was, chemistry, endorphins, there was an undeniable attraction between the two. They were just too blind and involved to see it.
House made his way back to the couch, sitting down next to Wilson. "Yes, the L-word. I like watching it with the sound down. It's like soft core lesbian porn. I can play some cheesy music too, if you want to be in the mood. Just, you know, warn me, so I can drug myself into a stupor and go to sleep."
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 9, 2009 22:19:50 GMT -7
Wilson rolled his eyes and let out a small sigh. He snatched up the remote from the coffee table before House could even think about grabbing it and turned off the television. "What would the mother of your child say if she caught you watching that crap?" Wilson asked, looking over at House.
Just like old times...It was comforting knowing that some things never changed. Wilson would get up bright and early tomorrow morning, annoy House with his blow dryer, make some lunch for himself (minus the sticky notes, which only tempted House to take his food), and head to work--just like those good, old days.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 10, 2009 16:05:09 GMT -7
"Hey," House protested, "watching that, you know. One of my last few pleasures in life before I get really old and spend my days shaking my cane at youngsters and saying 'in my day'..." House shook his head at Wilson's comment, "resorting to "you kiss your mother with that mouth?" tactics really displays your verbal prowess for disapproval." House added, sarcastically, "I am utterly, utterly ashamed of my misdeeds. Can you ever forgive me?" House aimed his best "kicked puppy" look at Wilson, his eyes filling with tears and his lower lip wibbling.
He kept it up, waiting for a reaction from Wilson. Wilson-baiting was always fun, but he was sure Wilson wouldn't relinquish control of his Tivo. Fine by House; he was choosing his battles these days.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 10, 2009 17:29:18 GMT -7
Wislon put on his best "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings" look. "Well, since you're being so polite about it, I'll...be as quiet as I can tomorrow morning," he finished off, having no intention of keeping his noise level down. It was too much fun annoying House. "I'm so glad I'm back for good," he added, playfully nudging House in the shoulder. He set the remote back down on the table. If House really wanted to watch his show he could. Wilson would just go into the kitchen and make his lunch for tomorrow.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 10, 2009 23:27:38 GMT -7
House looked at Wilson out of the corner of his eye suspiciously. The man was plotting something. "That's gracious of you, Wilson." Which was House speak for I know you're planning something and I got my eye on you, buster. Among other things. With Wilson here, House's style was going to be so cramped. He was better at being the affirmed bachelor, but roommates and a steady girlfriend kind of blew all that out of the water. Like maybe House would have to rearrange things in his life to make it fit together like a puzzle solved. Only life was a puzzle in progress. No one could solve it; make everything fit, it just was.
"Quiet as a church mouse, you hear?!" House called out to Wilson as the other man walked into his kitchen. Probably to make his lunch for tomorrow. The man had that habit. Which he learned through long progress.
House suddenly didn't want to watch tv anymore, so he reached out and picked up his remote. Shutting it off, House stood and made his way to the kitchen. Leaning in the doorway, he casually watched Wilson make himself at home in his kitchen. He still nursed his glass of scotch in one hand. He hooked his cane up on a convenient protrusion in the form of the door frame, content to maybe weird Wilson out by staring at him while he worked.
"So. You're back. "For good" even?" He noted casually. "Does this mean no more running away from your big bad scary problems?"
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 11, 2009 5:28:38 GMT -7
Wilson was searching through the fridge and not finding anything even worthy of being called "food." It was a good thing House had a woman in his life again. Maybe-just maybe Cuddy would be able to change his eating habits, though Wilson doubted it. Wilson guessed lunch would have to consist of a cafeteria salad tomorrow, and he'd make a note to himself to go grocery shopping after work.
He felt eyes staring at him. Wilson gently closed the fridge and turned toward House as he asked his questions. He placed his hands on his hips, clearly not wanting to have this conversation but knowing that it was going to happen eventually anyways. "Yes, I'm back for good. The death of a loved one is something you never get over. Angel needs all of the friends and support she can find---just not for now but for a long time to come. I plan on being here for her."
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 12, 2009 22:10:20 GMT -7
House nodded, meeting Wilson's eyes and keeping the stare up, "good." Not mentioning the giant pink elephant in the room with them. House hadn't exactly been there for Wilson in the conventional way, but there had been certain... issues to overcome. He wasn't really sure they even had, but he was more than willing to sweep it all under the proverbial rug.
"I am a little offended that you're only here for Angel. I mean, what about me? What about my needs?" House dramatically gestured; miming an arrow shot to his heart. "I'm hurt. Wounded, Wilson." He shot a look at Wilson to observe his reaction.
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 13, 2009 5:30:13 GMT -7
Sometimes it was hard to tell when House wasn't being sarcastic but Wilson was going to assume that this was one of those rare times where he wasn't. He looked down at the ground briefly, thinking of a safe way to answer his question. Wilson glance back up at House as he said---or rather, asked, "Do you think I would've asked to live with you if I didn't come back here partly because I missed you and your snide remarks to all of my comments?"
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 13, 2009 23:18:04 GMT -7
"Wilson." House said seriously, reaching out to put his hand on the man's shoulder, "I think I could cry. Honestly. There may be tears." Oddly, House was having difficulty swallowing around that strange lump in his throat. He probably needed some more scotch.
He paused. "I know I haven't been the easiest... friend to have. I have many flaws. Which don't merit being mentioned right this moment, thank you. That being said, you're a good guy, Wilson. I've known no one better to call friend." House cleared his throat, looking away. This moment was getting a little too emotional for him.
"I knew you loved my snide remarks," House grinned, "did you know that snark is a much more compact term for what I do? Snark is a fusion of snide and remark. Thus sayeth I, that my snide remarks shall henceforth be known as snark! Shush! The King has spoken! So mote it be! I'll sign the prescription pad for it!"
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 13, 2009 23:38:07 GMT -7
Was House being nice? Admitting he has flaws? Caring?...No. Caring was stretching it too far. Maybe fatherhood was going to change House into the man Wilson knew was always lurking underneath his tough, sarcastic exterior. Wilson just wished he had a video camera with him so that people could see that, yes, House had a heart.
"Thank you, House. Hearing those words coming from you means a lot to me."...Because the odds of him ever hearing those words again in the near future were slim to none. I realize that I haven't been the ideal friend either lately. Running away---thinking that would solve everything..."
Leave it to House to turn a sentimental moment into the complete opposite. Wilson chuckled. "Well, I say that the King and his snarks should let me go to bed because I, unlike the King, know how important it is to show up to work on time."
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Feb 14, 2009 17:16:15 GMT -7
Making a face at the prospect of ever showing up to work on time, House nodded, "all right. I can see that you're tired. Go to bed, Wilson. Get your beauty sleep. You really look like you need it." House paused, casting a forlorn glance at his tv, but capitulated to himself, admitting, "think I need sleep too."
He traveled the short space to his sink, setting his glass in it. He leaned on the counters as he made it back to the doorway. Grabbing the cane from its perch, he nodded solemnly to Wilson. "Good night."
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Post by indiansfan01 on Feb 14, 2009 17:32:43 GMT -7
"'Night, House," he replied.
Once House was gone, Wilson walked over to his suitcase and opened it up. He quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Wilson grabbed a blanket from the closet and laid down on the couch, covering himself up.
He woke up bright and early the next morning, thinking that maybe he really should be quiet. After all, House had been nice last night. He grabbed his duffel bag and headed into the bathroom. After a short shower, he stood in front of the mirror, blow dryer in hand, contemplating whether or not he should be nice to House this morning.
It wasn't long before he decided House should have a taste of his own medicine. He turned it on and started drying his hair, just waiting for House to come in and yell at him.
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