|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 16:41:20 GMT -7
House wasn't sure if he was convinced of that. If he was in Wilson's position, he didn't think he'd be so forgiving. Then again, that's why he was House and Wilson was Wilson. The brutal truth of it was, House did know that Wilson didn't blame him for Cutthroat Bitch's death, he just couldn't understand why. He wasn't exactly known for not looking a gift horse in the mouth; he had an insatiable curiosity, he needed to know.
House distracted himself from the uncomfortable heart to heart discussion Wilson was trying to have with him by picking at a loose thread on the arm rest of the couch. "Good to know you're still a glutton for punishment, Wilson," House replied dryly, "but eventually seemed too long."
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 16:54:21 GMT -7
Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small sigh. It seemed to Wilson that House clearly wasn't interested in what he had to say but he would still talk, whether or not House wanted to listen. "I only blame God for her death." Whenever people felt they needed to place the blame somewhere it always went to God. But who could really say that God is always responsible for all of the bad things that happen to loved ones?
"I don't want to do all of the talking, House." Wilson wanted to know how House felt. House showing Wilson that he was able to have a heart-to-heart discussion with someone would be a tremendous step forward, not only in fixing their friendship but also in fixing House.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 18:16:35 GMT -7
"Guess that's not very Jewish of you," House replied. Blaming God. Right. House believed there was something after life some days. Death never seemed to be an ending to him. He'd died once, when he had the infarction in his leg. Had come close to death again mere months ago. He had never told anyone about what he had experienced after having a seizure during the deep brain stimulation procedure and suffering a brain bleed. Seeing... her on that bus, the place where everything just didn't hurt anymore... that was something he kept close. He didn't remember much about it, just a feeling of peace.
"I don't want to talk at all," House replied. He sighed, "it could be worse, I suppose. We could be going to couples therapy."
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 18:23:48 GMT -7
Wilson had to laugh at House's comment, even though right before it he said he didn't want to talk. "There goes forty bucks out of my wallet," he muttered to himself, hoping that House didn't hear. Cuddy had been right. He couldn't get House to talk, and, therefore, he couldn't fix him. "If you don't want to talk we don't have to," he said to House. He couldn't force the man to spill his guts out, and he also couldn't cure someone that didn't want to be cured.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 18:44:21 GMT -7
"Wilson, we're talking right now. Just not about particular touchy feely stuff," House replied. He was trying to focus, trying to be better for Wilson. "I have been... having problems... lately," he admitted.
It was very difficult for him to admit that much. He had been feeling a little disenchanted with Wilson. Their relationship had really suffered because he caused it; been pushing Wilson away. It was mostly having to do with the pain in his leg. It was getting worse. He didn't want Wilson to know, but suspected the other man already knew.
"Look, Wilson," House started, "it's complicated. It's not just... her death. Or what happened after. Or even the private investigator. Not very private if you saw him so easily. I know I've been pushing you away. I don't know why."
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 18:55:05 GMT -7
Wilson let a small smile cross his face. Maybe he wouldn't be losing his money, after all. Wilson didn't think his saying that they didn't have to talk would get House to talk...but, hey, whatever worked. "You've been having problems," he repeated after him.
Wilson had figured as much that it had to do with House's leg. But he wasn't going to push him for the details. Wilson didn't want House to clam up because he was being too nosy. The details would come out with time if House wanted them to. And if he didn't want them to come out, there was nothing Wilson could do about it.
Wilson shook his head slightly. "There has to be some reason. Maybe you feel some kind of guilt for what happened to her?" Wilson suggested.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 19:08:08 GMT -7
"No. I didn't make her take the amantadine, I didn't make her come pick me up. I left a message for you, not her." House stopped. He was making excuses, which he hated. "It's not her. It's you. I feel guilty, 'cause of you. I wasn't good enough to save her. For all my genius--" House looked away, "you were happy." Which was all House wanted for Wilson. For the other man to be happy. House would never feel that way again. Not after Stacy. Not after the leg.
He really should break off the friendship with the other doctor for good. House was only dragging him down into the mud with him. But... House was selfish. He didn't want to be truly alone. "I'm sorry."
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 19:14:15 GMT -7
Wilson didn't know what to say to House. He was right. He had been happy. He had seen himself spending the rest of his life with Amber. And all of that had been taken away from him because House had had too much fun...no. He couldn't think that. There he was, trying to blame House for everything...All of that had been taken away from him because of several unforseen circumstances. That sounded better.
He was stunned speechless at House's next words. He raised his eyebrows, not believing that he had just heard those words coming out of his mouth. "There's--there's nothing for you to be sorry about, House."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 19:30:41 GMT -7
"That's a matter of opinion," House replied, bitterly. "It doesn't change what happened. It doesn't change a thing." There wasn't a cure for what he was feeling. For what Wilson was feeling. Only time would make the mind forget how much the wound hurt at the first lance. That seemed apt. Emotional pain felt like a spear lancing wounds, and they kept bleeding. There was no cure for this heartache. You can't always get what you want...
He vaguely remembered her there. Saying some logical, comforting things. He was torturing himself with this. He seriously needed to stop coming within inches of dying; it was doing nothing for his sanity.
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 19:38:12 GMT -7
Wilson still didn't think House had anything to apologize for, but he said, "I accept your apology," anyways. House felt like he had to do it, and Wilson sure didn't want to argue with him...not when they were making huge leaps of progress.
Every breath he took felt like a breath of relief now. Of course saying sorry didn't heal all of the wounds. That would take a lot of time. "You just won me forty bucks," he said, thinking that he could lighten up the mood a bit. "Cuddy's going to be pissed."
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 19:46:00 GMT -7
House paused. Had all this just been a game? A bet? He was sitting here, emotionally disemboweling himself, and all that pain and misery for forty lousy bucks? Story of my f*cking life, House thought to himself. Take the cheese, get caught in the trap. Second mouse gets the cheese. Kick a man when he's down. House reigned himself in. He could use this somehow. Find the silver lining and--
"Cuddy's going to be pissed?" House replied, forcing a grin, "well, I always like pissing her off. How did we piss her off?"
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 19:51:03 GMT -7
Wilson realized how awful his words had sounded as soon as they were out of his mouth. House had to know, though, that the money was just an on-the-side kind of thing. Wilson still would've had the same talk with him if no money was involved.
"I went to talk to her about my concern over your change and bet her that I could get you to talk to me about it," he said, giving him the cliff notes version of the story. "I can't wait to see the look on her face when I tell her," Wilson said, grinning right back at House.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 20:04:43 GMT -7
"There's hope for you yet," House smirked, "someday you will become a master, my padawan." Ye Gods, has Wilson no tact? House shook it off. He realized that Wilson wasn't really that callous. Wilson was the man who could make patients thank him for telling them they were dying. The bet probably had been just something they had added on for kicks. At least this way, Cuddy would be pissed. That was always a plus in his book.
"You definitely have to take a picture, or be someplace where there's security footage." House snapped his fingers, blue eyes lightening up, "even better, micro-cameras!"
|
|
|
|
Post by indiansfan01 on Jan 24, 2009 20:12:04 GMT -7
Wilson laughed, long and loud. He even found himself wiping a few tears from his eyes from laughing too hard. And he couldn't describe how good it felt. He didn't think missing House as much as he did was possible. "Let me guess," he said, when he finally had himself under control again, "you're P.I. friend gave you some micro-cameras as a parting gift." Wilson wasn't a secret agent or anything of that nature, but he had to admit that he wasn't opposed to House's idea in the slightest.
|
|
|
|
Post by Dr. Gregory House on Jan 24, 2009 21:35:55 GMT -7
It was good to see Wilson laughing again. It seemed like he hadn't done that enough recently. House was struck by how much he had been missing Wilson and the everyday things they could share together, the good, the bad and the funny. How much of Wilson's life had he missed while he had been trying to push the other man away?
House snorted, "parting gift, sure. He only charged me two thousand dollars for services rendered. That was the least he could do. Robbed me blind, it's what. He couldn't even get me any dirt on Foreman. I refuse to believe that Foreman really is as boring as he seems."
|
|
