Fandom: House MD
Characters: Wilson, Cameron, House. House/Wilson-friendship with slashy overtones.
Notes: Bunnies, bunnies everywhere. My angst muse couldn't leave this one alone. No beta, so chime in.
Warnings: One major spoiler for The Softer Side.
Summary: A confrontation that's been waiting to happen.
He should have known.
Wilson had successfully fended off any challengers to his pride of place in House’s life as surely as House had driven away any chance for him to have another relationship. Amber was only the latest and most visible victim.
House’s pain was something he lived with, worried about, tried to soothe and agonized over. Every time he signed the Vicodin prescription, it was reassurance that he was the only one who really cared about House and that House knew it.
The idea that things had gotten bad enough for him to seek out Methadone gnawed at Wilson’s guts at he drove home. He should have known, and more importantly House should have asked him for help. They’d have argued, of course, and then House would have convinced him. Either way, Wilson would be the one writing the script, instead of having to accept the fact that House had gone to someone else.
It wasn’t hard to figure out who House had gone to. He knew it wasn’t Cuddy and there was no way House would give that kind of power to any of his current staff. There was only one person he’d go to, the one who still had illusions about House.
Wilson turned his car around and drove back to the hospital.
He found her in the emergency room, holding the hand of a crying child.
Not being House, he managed to wait until the girl was wheeled into surgery, but every moment gave the anger time to build up until he exploded with indignation.
“Methadone? Fucking methadone?”
Cameron appeared taken aback by the outburst. He’d never actually told her off, even when he desperately wanted to, that horrible Christmas Eve when House was completely shutting him out because of Tritter.
She didn’t look the least bit guilty.
“His pain has been getting worse. Much worse. Didn’t you know?”
He’d never wanted to hit a woman before.
“He could have died,” he fumed.
“He could have been happy.”
“How did your boyfriend take that? Did you tell him.”
Wilson gave her his most skeptical look and she replied with an indifferent shrug.
“Fine. I told Chase. He didn’t like the idea. He still thinks House should go cold turkey. I’m sure you remember how well that works.”
Hitting wouldn’t be enough.
“He’s never going to love you.” Wilson hissed, hoping he’d hurt her enough to make up for the wounds she was inflicting on him. Hard to believe House had derided both of them for “niceness.”
There was the vaguest hint of a trembling lower lip, but she managed to maintain control.
“And your concern has been so good for him, hasn’t it?”
He was about to take a step forward when he heard the tapping. A familiar sound of cane on floor. House favorite form of psuedo-applause.
“Wow! You two are awesome. Better than General Hospital, although I’m still rooting for Spinelli and Maxie. We’ll need a cutesy name for you though. How about Wham?”
He was angry and still sick about the whole thing, but the only way to fight for House was to keep him smiling.
“Very I Love The Eighties,” he said in his best, having a normal conversation with House voice. “Should I get a Choose Life shirt?”
For that he got another smile, but Cameron had turned her attention to another patient, so Wilson couldn’t savor his victory. House was already walking away leaving Wilson to watch the return of his limp. He hurried to catch up, falling into their old stride.
“Please House….the next time you want to kill yourself…”
“I promise, I’ll let you pull the trigger. I owe you that much.”
Wilson didn’t even try to keep the smile off his face as they walked out of the hospital together
It was the first time House had admitted owing him anything but money.