yarroway: (NW1)
yarroway ([personal profile] yarroway) wrote2016-05-10 10:21 am

Duo (2/2)

Summary: Two ways Help Me could have ended. From a prompt by Soophilia which had Wilson showing up instead of Cuddy.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: House, M.D. belongs to David Shore, Universal Television, Heel and Toe Productions, and a lot of other people who are not me. I'm not making any money from this.
Thanks: as always, to Srsly_yes for her patient beta work.

Option Two:...Wilson gets there when Cuddy did in Help Me...





“You gonna leap across the room and snatch them out of my hand?”

Wilson stands in the doorway. He tilts his head, as if searching for hidden meanings in House’s question. Without answering, he makes his way over to House, stepping gingerly over glass and debris. “You mind if we adjourn to someplace less likely to end in a trip to the ER?”

Wilson holds out his hand, obviously offering to pull House to his feet. House ignores it. He isn’t ready to leave. What he wants is a pill. Maybe he wants all of them.

Wilson crouches down in front of him. “Does it hurt that much?”

House nods slowly, looking fixedly at the bottles, at his hands, looking at anything but Wilson.

There is silence. House tries to imagine the look on Wilson’s face. Disappointment, he thinks. Disgust.

Wilson walks out.

House stops breathing. He doesn’t hear the front door close, though. He hears rummaging, and then Wilson is back with House’s old ratty broom and dustpan. House watches him work. There is something seriously wrong with Wilson, if, after the kind of day he must have had, he’d come here to sweep instead of going home to sleep with his girlfriend.

“Why are you here?” House asks finally, when the broom is tucked away again.

Wilson sits down beside him. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine,” House snaps. He doesn’t want Wilson’s pity. “Go home to your once and future ex.”

“I can’t,” Wilson says, “my friend needs me.”

House scoffs. Wilson’s hypocrisy is choking him. “I needed you last week too, and you threw me out. Nothing’s changed since then.”

“Threw you out? I didn’t dump your stuff on the lawn. I told you I’d help you start making plans. You—you threw yourself out!”

“I didn’t want to wait around for the eviction notice,” House says.

“I told you to come back,” Wilson argues.

“So you could throw me out again in two weeks? Let me feel the chill as you ignore me when I walk past?” He doesn’t give Wilson time to answer. He’s too angry now to stop. “You abandoned me. You told me I had a home with you and that was a lie. You left me for her and now you’re feeling guilty about the consequences. Go home!”

He’d like to get up and stomp out, but when he moves his leg shoots pain like a laser beam up his nerve fibers and he’s holding it and gasping. He gropes for the Vicodin but Wilson reaches the bottles first.

“Give them to me!” House grabs for the bottles, intending to rip them right out of Wilson’s grasp. Wilson jerks away, leaving House with a handful of nothing.

House wants to kill him.

“Are you sure you want these?” Wilson asks. He’s practically pleading. “Don’t throw away a drug free year. You’ve worked so hard.”

“For nothing!” House yells. “I spent a year in pain for nothing. Cuddy was right. You’ve both chosen someone else, so what was it for?”

Wilson swallows. “It was for you, House. To make your life just a little better. To help you be just a little happier.”

“Look at my face,” House growls. “How well do you think that’s working?”

“It’s not,” Wilson says.

House waits. The other shoe is about to drop.

An eternity later, Wilson adds, “I think it’s time we tried something else, don’t you?”

“Did you have something specific in mind?” House asks, because Wilson must. He’s not going back to PT or a psych. hospital, though. He’s not.

“Yes, actually,” Wilson says. “It involves you starting a relationship.”

That’s perhaps the most spectacularly stupid thing House has ever heard him say. “Cuddy’s engaged, and she’s made it pretty clear she’s not interested.”

Wilson scowls. “Cuddy is exactly as capable of marrying Lucas tomorrow as she is of throwing him over tonight and coming here to hook up with you. That’s why you keep obsessing over her. You know perfectly well you’re one mood swing away from getting lucky.”

House shrugs. He does know that. He and Cuddy have been like this for years. They’re stuck, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

“I—I wasn’t thinking of her, anyway.”

“Spit it out!”

“Well, Cuddy may be happy with someone else,” Wilson says. He hesitates.

“But,” House prompts. It’s like pulling teeth.

“But I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” House clambers to his feet so he can move. He’s too angry to stay still. “This is nothing but guilt and pity. It’s pointless.”

Wilson stands up, toe to toe with House. “I don’t pity you,” he says angrily. Then he takes House’s face in his hands and kisses him.

House is so stunned he lets it happen. He doesn’t respond. He’s not entirely sure this is really happening.

Wilson steps back, brows raised in challenge. It takes a moment for House to realize he’s supposed to say or do something now. He can’t imagine what that thing might be. Wilson—-isn’t a possibility he allows himself to think about.

The smile drains from Wilson’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I misunderstood what you wanted. I’ll go now.” He puts the Vicodin bottles on the sink and turns to leave.

House moves after him. “Wait!”

Wilson stops, head bowed. Then he turns and comes back. Before House can say anything Wilson’s apologizing again. “I took advantage. I didn’t mean to, but that’s what happened. When you said Cuddy and I had chosen other people, I just thought…but I know you don’t mean it when you flirt with me. I accepted that a long time ago. I guess, in the moment, I got carried away. I promise it will never happen again.”

House stares at him. It’s like he’s a stranger. It’s like they are strangers to each other. “How could you hide this from me? How could I not see it?”

“Maybe you didn’t want to,” Wilson says, and House can practically see him hiding his emotions. It takes five seconds, tops, and then he looks just like he does every day.

House hates that. He takes a breath. “Maybe I was afraid that I was only seeing what I wanted to see.”

Wilson looks up at him.

House kisses him. Wilson settles in against him, and they start making out in earnest. His body is unfamiliar, but with a little adjusting they fit together. It’s hot and messy and perfect.

A few minutes or hours later, House stops. He doesn’t want to be an experiment, or an excuse to break it off with Sam, or a rebound from just having broken it off with Sam. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Wilson says breathlessly, and bites House’s neck.

“I mean it,” House says. “You need to understand what you’re asking for. I’ve pissed you off and I’ve hurt you, and it’s only a matter of time until I do it again. I don’t think I can change. I’m the most screwed up guy in the world.”

Wilson rolls his eyes. “Stop it. I have a schizophrenic brother who spent 25 years living on the streets. You think you’re screwed up? He still likes to eat out of dumpsters.”

House takes a breath. “Fine,” he says. “I’m the second most screwed up guy in the world. I’m still not going to change.”

Wilson gives an annoyed shrug. “I didn’t ask you to. I’m not going to change either. Now, did you want to start pissing off your new boyfriend tonight, or can we get on with the sex?”

It’s not a hard question. He feels better than he has any right to. His leg is okay, smothered in endorphins. His mind is clear. He’d rather hold Wilson than a bottle of Vicodin. Wilson tastes better.

House gives the only answer he possibly can. “No pissing off tonight,” he says. “Yes to the sex. Yes to the boyfriend.” He pulls Wilson closer and kisses him again. Wilson makes a noise like a happy sigh. “Definitely,” House says, “yes to the boyfriend.”

He doesn’t know where this is going or how long it will last. Maybe a bus will hit them tomorrow. Maybe the building will collapse next week. It probably will. They’ll be in bed and House will be at that moment right before orgasm and the entire building will come down on their heads.

House thinks he can make a tentative peace with this looming disaster. It’s not the worst way to go, and Wilson will be there with him. He can live with that.

End

(Part One...)


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