Woeful (a sick Wilson followup to Miserable)
When Wilson woke up he was hot, and alone on the couch. The spot next to him was warm still, so he figured House was getting a drink or using the bathroom. He tried to sit up but the pounding in his head and sinuses made that difficult so he shut his eyes and waited.
A few moments later he heard the tell tale sound of House coming back into the room, and felt something cool rest on his forehead. While it felt good, the change in temperature didn’t do him any good and Wilson sneezed violently.
House snickered. “Loodks like you caubht by cold.” Wilson sat up, wincing, and glared at him. “Yes, apparently I habe.” Wilson sighed and sniffled and reached for the tissues on the coffee table. He carefully blew his nose. House put his hand on Wilson’s forehead. “I want to take your tempberature; you’re burning up.”
House handed Wilson the thermometer, who reluctantly put it in his mouth, grumbling something about ungrateful diagnosticians spreading germs. When it beeped, House snatched it away from Wilson and read the result: 99.9. “Not bad, not as high as BY fever was,” House chided. “This isn’t a competition, House! It’s a colbd. I’ll libe.” Wilson located the Tylenol on the coffee table and washed two down with some cold tea.
House sniffled and pouted. “But by feber was higher,” he mumbled. Somehow, for added dramatic measure, House’s breath hitched and he sneezed loudly. Wilson rolled his eyes. “Bless you.” “Thanbks,” House replied as he blew his nose. He sat back and sighed. “Bell this sucks. Who’s goinbg to tadke care of be nowd?” Wilson laughed, which ended up turning into a rather prolonged coughing fit. When he was done, and had drained a bottle of water, he turned to House. “Who is goibnd to take care of you?! What about be? I’b sick too!”
House sniffled and shrugged and turned his attention back to the television. “By fever was higher, thereforde I’b sicker.” Wilson sighed once again and shook his head. “Logically,” Wilson muttered before he quickly reached for the tissues. Wilson bent forward in a fit of sneezes, while House peered at him from the corner of his eye. When Wilson finally stopped, House handed him some fresh tissues. “Bless. Done?” Wilson nodded. “I thibk so. Thandks.” He appreciatively took the tissues and blew his nose.
“Look House, we’re both sidck. Let’s just try nbot to kill each other, odk?” House carefully regarded Wilson, sniffled and nodded. He felt just a tiny but bad about whining so much a few moments ago, when he really was feeling much better, and Wilson was just getting this cold. Of course this moment of remorse lasted about twenty seconds. “Are you goibg to make us sobe tea or what?” House coughed weakly to accentuate his point. Wilson rolled his eyes again, sighed and struggled to his feet. House would never change. It was too bad he couldn’t give House this cold back.
A few moments later he heard the tell tale sound of House coming back into the room, and felt something cool rest on his forehead. While it felt good, the change in temperature didn’t do him any good and Wilson sneezed violently.
House snickered. “Loodks like you caubht by cold.” Wilson sat up, wincing, and glared at him. “Yes, apparently I habe.” Wilson sighed and sniffled and reached for the tissues on the coffee table. He carefully blew his nose. House put his hand on Wilson’s forehead. “I want to take your tempberature; you’re burning up.”
House handed Wilson the thermometer, who reluctantly put it in his mouth, grumbling something about ungrateful diagnosticians spreading germs. When it beeped, House snatched it away from Wilson and read the result: 99.9. “Not bad, not as high as BY fever was,” House chided. “This isn’t a competition, House! It’s a colbd. I’ll libe.” Wilson located the Tylenol on the coffee table and washed two down with some cold tea.
House sniffled and pouted. “But by feber was higher,” he mumbled. Somehow, for added dramatic measure, House’s breath hitched and he sneezed loudly. Wilson rolled his eyes. “Bless you.” “Thanbks,” House replied as he blew his nose. He sat back and sighed. “Bell this sucks. Who’s goinbg to tadke care of be nowd?” Wilson laughed, which ended up turning into a rather prolonged coughing fit. When he was done, and had drained a bottle of water, he turned to House. “Who is goibnd to take care of you?! What about be? I’b sick too!”
House sniffled and shrugged and turned his attention back to the television. “By fever was higher, thereforde I’b sicker.” Wilson sighed once again and shook his head. “Logically,” Wilson muttered before he quickly reached for the tissues. Wilson bent forward in a fit of sneezes, while House peered at him from the corner of his eye. When Wilson finally stopped, House handed him some fresh tissues. “Bless. Done?” Wilson nodded. “I thibk so. Thandks.” He appreciatively took the tissues and blew his nose.
“Look House, we’re both sidck. Let’s just try nbot to kill each other, odk?” House carefully regarded Wilson, sniffled and nodded. He felt just a tiny but bad about whining so much a few moments ago, when he really was feeling much better, and Wilson was just getting this cold. Of course this moment of remorse lasted about twenty seconds. “Are you goibg to make us sobe tea or what?” House coughed weakly to accentuate his point. Wilson rolled his eyes again, sighed and struggled to his feet. House would never change. It was too bad he couldn’t give House this cold back.