New Fic! "Bella"
Title: "Bella"
Author: Aphrodite Roslin
Pairing: House/Wilson Strong Friendship
Rating: R for a couple naughty words
Warnings: Mega!Angst, Minor Character Death
Summary: After a tragedy, some people lose all faith while others' faith grows even stronger. House may be an atheist, but he isn't without his reasons.
Disclaimer: I own only the original fiction characters. Everything else I can only wish I had.
“Kind of busy right now, House,” Wilson sighed as his friend burst through his office door.
“You’re never too busy for Chinese take-out,” House smirked as he tossed two bags of food on top of Wilson’s paperwork. The younger man took a deep breath and counted to three in his head before laying his pen down and leaning back in his chair.
“See? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” House said smugly as he sat down on the opposite side of his friend and began pulling the food out of the bags.
“You seriously need to learn how to knock before you enter a room,” Wilson replied as he began doing the same.
“Can’t. It ruins the surprise,” House grinned as he stuffed half of an egg roll into his mouth.
“Lovely,” Wilson rolled his eyes.
“Jealous,” House mumbled through his food.
“So, how’s the divorce going? Mrs. Wilson the 1st still getting the house?” the older doctor questioned after swallowing his food, purely to torment his companion.
“It isn’t going at all. I haven’t heard from her in months. It’s like she disappeared into thin air.”
“Maybe it isn’t your baby she’s carrying, and she’s trying to hide the evidence. Multi-racial baby born to the whitest Jews on the planet doesn’t tend to get mommy a lot of money in the settlement,” House deadpanned.
“Cut it out. If there’s one thing I know about Carrie, it’s that she would never cheat,” Wilson admonished.
“Oh, that’s right! Cheating is your area of expertise!” House shoved the other half of the egg roll into his mouth, and Wilson’s pager buzzed as if on cue. “Whaddist?” House mumbled over the egg roll.
“It’s Carrie! She’s here! She’s in labor! Come on!” Wilson jumped from his seat, urging House to follow.
“But I haven’t read my fortune cookie yet!” House whined as Wilson dragged him from the room by his arm.
“We talked about this. Carrie wants you to deliver the baby,” Wilson reminded him as they sped toward the elevator.
“I know, but why?” House continued to whine.
“I have no idea,” Wilson threw his arms up in emphasis. “The woman hates you, but she also trusts you.” He pressed 3, and the elevator took off.
“Yeah, but I only hate her. I have no other emotion with which to work with as motivation for helping your soon-to-be ex push out a tiny little screaming bag of goo.”
“Okay, if not for Carrie, than do it for me. I know I can trust you because if anything goes wrong, I know where you live,” Wilson made an attempt to give House one of his own smirks, but his anxiety wouldn’t quite allow it to happen. House excepted it anyway.
“Fine, but I’m not going to enjoy it,” House declared as the elevator doors opened on the Maternity Ward.
“Good. That’s my wife’s crotch you’re going to be staring at for the next few hours!” Wilson said quietly now that there were so many people around.
“Ex-wife,” House emphasized.
“Not yet,” Wilson said almost under his breath. “Here. Room 317.” He told House as he grabbed the door handle and turned.
“Who called him?” Carrie Wilson shouted as James entered the room.
“I did,” Dr. Cuddy told her.
“Well, tell him to get the fuck out of here!” Carrie screamed as Cuddy made her way over to the two men.
“What are you doing here?” House asked from his place in the corridor.
“The nurses called me in. They said a pregnant woman came in behaving erratically. She was yelling nonsense and throwing blunt objects at the staff. She also refused to let any doctor near her except you, House,” the Dean of Medicine replied.
“What? Why me? She doesn’t even like me a little.”
“It could have something to do with the fact that she’s stoned out of her mind,” Cuddy suggested.
“What?” Wilson practically yelled.
“I’m so sorry, James,” Cuddy put a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean to tell you like that. She’s just been so…Look, we’re not certain, but we’re almost positive she’s been doing cocaine.” Wilson nearly crumpled where he stood, but one hand from Cuddy and House each kept him upright.
“You’re telling me that my pregnant wife is a drug addict,” Wilson stated more than questioned.
“We don’t know that,” Cuddy replied. “For all we know, this could be the first time she’s ever tried anything.” Everyone knew she was lying, but they said nothing.
“Where the fuck is House? I want him here now! Tell him to get this thing out of me now!” Carrie screamed from her bed. She was ignored.
“Wait a minute. The baby’s early. How early? I can’t believe I didn’t think of this! I…”
“The baby’s around two months early,” Cuddy confirmed. “That’s a viable age. I don’t think you need to worry about that. What you need to worry about is bracing yourself for the possibility that…”
“My baby could be born an addict,” Wilson finished for her. Cuddy nodded grimly. Feeling the bile building up in his throat, the oncologist bolted for the restroom. House made a move to follow him, but Cuddy stopped him.
“Don’t. I’ll check on him. You go take care of business before Carrie has an aneurysm.” House nodded reluctantly, and they went their separate ways.
________________________________________________________________________
Early the next morning, the hospital felt like a ghost town. Most of the patients were still sleeping, snug in their standard issue fabric that was passed off as sheets. Even the babies in the Maternity Ward were quiet. It was strange really, as if the infants could sense the slow rupturing of the oversized heart that beat reluctantly in the NICU. The world was standing still as it would only do for one man.
Making his way into the room as silently as possible, House slowly approached the man in the rocking chair at the back of the room. In the man’s arms lay a small child. Too small for such a big world. The incubator next to the pair had a thin paper sign taped to it with the words “Baby Girl Wilson” etched neatly on its surface, and House thought briefly how sad it would be to die without a name.
“Carrie’s gone,” he spoke softly but directly. There was no point in sugarcoating anymore.
“Good,” James replied in an even softer tone. “At least she saved one life.” The statement was vague, but House understood and was suddenly glad that the bitch had slithered away. Wilson wouldn’t survive a day in prison.
“Bella doesn’t have much longer,” Jimmy all but whispered.
“Bella?” House questioned.
“Yeah. It suits her, don’t you think?” Wilson smiled. House gave as much of a grin as he could muster as he gazed at the sick child.
“You bet. It has a nice ring to it,” Greg agreed.
“I didn’t want her to leave without a name; without knowing she was loved,” James spoke tearfully. His friend put a hand on his shoulder.
“She knows, Jimmy.”
James nodded in agreement, silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he bit his bottom lip and stroked his daughter’s tiny face.
“You staying?” Wilson questioned softly, hope and desperation evident in his voice. Greg pulled up a seat next to his best and only friend.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured him. And he didn’t.
For hours, the two men sat in silence, side by side. James rocked and sang to the child who laid much too still and silent in her father’s loving arms. Greg watched on from his own chair, feeling his friend’s pain as if it were his own. Soon this would all be over, and they would be back to being House and Wilson, Greg and Jimmy. They would be back where they started all those years ago, and the thought made House sick. He remembered how Wilson had grown and thrived after being told that he was going to be a father. James had always wanted a family, and his wish was finally coming true. And now this. This was a blow that House wasn’t sure his friend could bounce back from.
What do you say to someone who is sitting in front of you, rocking their dying newborn in their arms?
“It’s going to be okay, Jimmy,” House finally spoke. Wilson looked up for the first time in hours.
“No, Greg, it’s not,” he said bluntly before returning his gaze to Bella.
It was at that moment that Gregory House realized that the James Wilson he had known for so long was dead. And Zombie Wilson was right. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. Time kept ticking even as Bella’s heart no longer did. Wilson kept rocking and singing, even though the only person left to soothe was himself. And just outside the white-walled building, the sun was rising on a new day. While just inside, it had set for the last time.
________________________________________________________________________
Sister Augustine: Why is it so difficult for you to believe in God?
House: What I have difficulty with is the whole concept of belief. Faith isn’t based on logic and experience.
Sister Augustine: I experience God on a daily basis, and the miracle of life all around. The miracle of birth, the miracle of love. He is always with me.
House: Where is the miracle in delivering a crack-addicted baby? Hmmm? And watching her mother abandon her because she needs another score.
~ “Damned If You Do”
House, M.D.
Season 1 Episode 5