House M.D. stuffs
I know, I know. It's short. Hopefully the next one will be longer.
Title: Delicate
Chapter: Smile, Though Your Heart is Breaking (twenty-eight)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Summary: House is changed in a way that no one could have seen coming, and Wilson is left to pick up and take care of what's remaining. Can he handle it?
Warnings: sick!vulnerable!House, House/Wilson slash
Last chapter.
“So did you have something specific you wanted to talk about today?” Dr. Buroughs sat behind her desk, leaning back slightly in her chair, and looked curiously from House to Wilson.
Wilson cleared his throat and glanced nervously at House, “Yeah, I do. And I know that House will want to talk about it, too, once we get going.”
House turned to look at Wilson, “What are we talking about?”
“You remember the other night, when you couldn’t sleep?”House nodded solemnly and reached across the gap between the chairs, fumbled with Wilson’s hand so that he was grasping it. “A lot of things have happened since we met with you last, Dr. Buroughs. I guess I’ll start at the beginning...” Wilson glanced at House, who opened his mouth momentarily before nodding at Wilson to continue. “Well, House went on a trip last week. You know we hired a day sitter?” Dr. Buroughs bobbed her head in a quick nod encouraging Wilson to carry on. “She and House were pretty tired from going to the zoo, so they were both napping. House ended up sleep walking and went to a bar. He was given a few drinks, then taken to a house party, where he was given more alcohol. That triggered seizures when it mixed with the methadone in his system. He was hospitalized.”
Dr. Buroughs frowned, “I would have hoped that if something like this happened, you would have called me and let me know as soon as possible.”
“I honestly didn’t think to contact you.” Wilson looked at the pattern on the carpet abashedly. “But I’m worried it will happen again - I know the day sitter is worried, too. And I bet you are, as well, aren’t you, House?”
“Yes.” His voice was clipped, his answer short. He wasn’t making eye contact with anyone in the room, but his warm grasp tethered him to the conversation through Wilson.
“I think that’s a concern we should definitely talk about,” Dr. Buroughs said, recording something on her steno-notepad. “But why don’t you finish telling me about what happened?”
“Well, the sitter needed some alone time after the sleep walking, understandably. So I took House to work with me. He went to the bathroom and ended up getting locked in. I hadn’t given him his dose of medication in time and he ended up experiencing some extreme pain...we went home and...oh Jesus,” Wilson used his free hand to rub his face. “We had sex.”
“That’s a definite step.” Her voice didn’t falter, but Wilson couldn’t bring himself to look at her. His face and neck were burning, but he felt House’s thumb paint strokes over the sensitive skin on the back of his hand. “I know you two have been working forward to that intimacy for a while - if I’m not mistaken.” Wilson heard her pen tap on the desk and finally forced himself to look at her face.
“I feel like it was a mistake.” House’s hand dropped from his - the lack of physical contact made his entire body feel frozen. “I feel like I was supposed to be the responsible adult and care for him. I feel like I stepped over a boundary.”
“I believe that House knew what he was getting himself into,” she said, looking to House for conformation.
In response, House’s mouth opened and closed, as though he was groping for an answer. “I...I started it,” he finally told her.
“Yes, but House,” Wilson turned in his chair, suddenly extremely agitated, “I let it continue. I should have stopped you. I shouldn’t have...I shouldn’t have done what I did. I didn’t just let it happen, I...” he swallowed thickly and reached out to touch House’s arm, “I did it.”
House pulled away from him, “Stop it!” he shouted. “Stop saying this is your fault!” When Wilson tried to reach out again, House batted his hand away. “I knew what we were doing!” his voice was raw and broken, Wilson could tell he was about to cry, “All those dreams I had! I knew! I knew what was going to happen, and I wanted it to! You don’t think you’re the only one who misses the way things used to be, do you? I know! I know that I’m...different!” House turned to look out the window and swiped at his eyes, swallowed the burning lump in his throat. “I knew what we were doing. I wanted it. Just stop...please stop...stop being upset about it. Stop feeling guilty. Because it hurts my feelings.”
Wilson shook his head, looked to Dr. Buroughs for guidance, “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” House finally let the hand touch his arm and turned to look at Wilson.
“Okay.” His hand covered the one that was touching him.
“Well,” Dr. Buroughs interrupted them, “I think you guys figured that one out on your own...why don’t we talk about dosage and the sleep walking? Have you considered any precautions you might take to keep those things from happening again?”
“We haven’t really discussed anything, no.” Wilson looked at her. “Did you have something in mind?”
She dropped the notepad and put her hands together, leaning her chin on them. “I’ve got some ideas, yes.”
The lock smith had all together ignored House while he was installing the new lock on the door. Wilson had figured that he could probably do it himself, but he wasn’t sure, and figured it would be best not to take any chances. The man installing the key lock on the inside of the bedroom door probably thought they had some kinky fetish. Wilson had wanted to get it installed on the inside of the main door to the apartment, but that violated building codes, so he had to resort to the inside of the bedroom door. It broke his heart, imagining locking House in - but there was nothing for it. This was the only way that he could see to keep House safe, and he knew it would only be used when they were both sleeping, otherwise, he could just keep an eye on House.
When they had come to decision to put the lock on the door, House’s eyes had widened with horror, he asked if there was any other way. “No,” Wilson said sadly hugging him to his chest, “I’m sorry. I’ll make it as easy on you as I can.”
There were two keys to the door - one went onto Wilson key chain and the other was delivered directly to 13. The outside of the bedroom locked with a simple dead-bolt turn lock, but the inside needed a key to be opened, a key that House wasn’t going to get his hands on. It had been the last option Wilson wanted to talk about, but in the end, he knew - they both knew - it was the only option to preserve House’s safety. That didn’t mean either of them liked it any more.
The silver lining was that they put the lock on Wilson’s bedroom door. This meant, that for House, there would be no more nightmares while he was all alone, no more lonely night spent tossing and turning. Every night was a Wilson night now, and he didn’t say anything, but it made his stomach bubble with happiness at the thought. His old room would be turned back into a study/guest room.
As far as the medication problem went, they had both gotten new watches, synchronised them, and set the alarms to go off every 4 hours, to ensure that House got his medication on time. Hopefully, this would stave off any more pain catastrophes. After all the steps they took, Wilson’s job was to call 13 and tell her it was safe. She could come back again. It was hard for him to give up his days with House again, especially after he had just gotten the man back for a short while, but he knew that he couldn’t keep taking someone so dependent to work with him.
At least Wilson had Wednesday to look forward to. He had talked Cuddy into letting him take the day off for the meeting with Nolan.
Next chapter.
Title: Delicate
Chapter: Smile, Though Your Heart is Breaking (twenty-eight)
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Summary: House is changed in a way that no one could have seen coming, and Wilson is left to pick up and take care of what's remaining. Can he handle it?
Warnings: sick!vulnerable!House, House/Wilson slash
Last chapter.
“So did you have something specific you wanted to talk about today?” Dr. Buroughs sat behind her desk, leaning back slightly in her chair, and looked curiously from House to Wilson.
Wilson cleared his throat and glanced nervously at House, “Yeah, I do. And I know that House will want to talk about it, too, once we get going.”
House turned to look at Wilson, “What are we talking about?”
“You remember the other night, when you couldn’t sleep?”House nodded solemnly and reached across the gap between the chairs, fumbled with Wilson’s hand so that he was grasping it. “A lot of things have happened since we met with you last, Dr. Buroughs. I guess I’ll start at the beginning...” Wilson glanced at House, who opened his mouth momentarily before nodding at Wilson to continue. “Well, House went on a trip last week. You know we hired a day sitter?” Dr. Buroughs bobbed her head in a quick nod encouraging Wilson to carry on. “She and House were pretty tired from going to the zoo, so they were both napping. House ended up sleep walking and went to a bar. He was given a few drinks, then taken to a house party, where he was given more alcohol. That triggered seizures when it mixed with the methadone in his system. He was hospitalized.”
Dr. Buroughs frowned, “I would have hoped that if something like this happened, you would have called me and let me know as soon as possible.”
“I honestly didn’t think to contact you.” Wilson looked at the pattern on the carpet abashedly. “But I’m worried it will happen again - I know the day sitter is worried, too. And I bet you are, as well, aren’t you, House?”
“Yes.” His voice was clipped, his answer short. He wasn’t making eye contact with anyone in the room, but his warm grasp tethered him to the conversation through Wilson.
“I think that’s a concern we should definitely talk about,” Dr. Buroughs said, recording something on her steno-notepad. “But why don’t you finish telling me about what happened?”
“Well, the sitter needed some alone time after the sleep walking, understandably. So I took House to work with me. He went to the bathroom and ended up getting locked in. I hadn’t given him his dose of medication in time and he ended up experiencing some extreme pain...we went home and...oh Jesus,” Wilson used his free hand to rub his face. “We had sex.”
“That’s a definite step.” Her voice didn’t falter, but Wilson couldn’t bring himself to look at her. His face and neck were burning, but he felt House’s thumb paint strokes over the sensitive skin on the back of his hand. “I know you two have been working forward to that intimacy for a while - if I’m not mistaken.” Wilson heard her pen tap on the desk and finally forced himself to look at her face.
“I feel like it was a mistake.” House’s hand dropped from his - the lack of physical contact made his entire body feel frozen. “I feel like I was supposed to be the responsible adult and care for him. I feel like I stepped over a boundary.”
“I believe that House knew what he was getting himself into,” she said, looking to House for conformation.
In response, House’s mouth opened and closed, as though he was groping for an answer. “I...I started it,” he finally told her.
“Yes, but House,” Wilson turned in his chair, suddenly extremely agitated, “I let it continue. I should have stopped you. I shouldn’t have...I shouldn’t have done what I did. I didn’t just let it happen, I...” he swallowed thickly and reached out to touch House’s arm, “I did it.”
House pulled away from him, “Stop it!” he shouted. “Stop saying this is your fault!” When Wilson tried to reach out again, House batted his hand away. “I knew what we were doing!” his voice was raw and broken, Wilson could tell he was about to cry, “All those dreams I had! I knew! I knew what was going to happen, and I wanted it to! You don’t think you’re the only one who misses the way things used to be, do you? I know! I know that I’m...different!” House turned to look out the window and swiped at his eyes, swallowed the burning lump in his throat. “I knew what we were doing. I wanted it. Just stop...please stop...stop being upset about it. Stop feeling guilty. Because it hurts my feelings.”
Wilson shook his head, looked to Dr. Buroughs for guidance, “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” House finally let the hand touch his arm and turned to look at Wilson.
“Okay.” His hand covered the one that was touching him.
“Well,” Dr. Buroughs interrupted them, “I think you guys figured that one out on your own...why don’t we talk about dosage and the sleep walking? Have you considered any precautions you might take to keep those things from happening again?”
“We haven’t really discussed anything, no.” Wilson looked at her. “Did you have something in mind?”
She dropped the notepad and put her hands together, leaning her chin on them. “I’ve got some ideas, yes.”
The lock smith had all together ignored House while he was installing the new lock on the door. Wilson had figured that he could probably do it himself, but he wasn’t sure, and figured it would be best not to take any chances. The man installing the key lock on the inside of the bedroom door probably thought they had some kinky fetish. Wilson had wanted to get it installed on the inside of the main door to the apartment, but that violated building codes, so he had to resort to the inside of the bedroom door. It broke his heart, imagining locking House in - but there was nothing for it. This was the only way that he could see to keep House safe, and he knew it would only be used when they were both sleeping, otherwise, he could just keep an eye on House.
When they had come to decision to put the lock on the door, House’s eyes had widened with horror, he asked if there was any other way. “No,” Wilson said sadly hugging him to his chest, “I’m sorry. I’ll make it as easy on you as I can.”
There were two keys to the door - one went onto Wilson key chain and the other was delivered directly to 13. The outside of the bedroom locked with a simple dead-bolt turn lock, but the inside needed a key to be opened, a key that House wasn’t going to get his hands on. It had been the last option Wilson wanted to talk about, but in the end, he knew - they both knew - it was the only option to preserve House’s safety. That didn’t mean either of them liked it any more.
The silver lining was that they put the lock on Wilson’s bedroom door. This meant, that for House, there would be no more nightmares while he was all alone, no more lonely night spent tossing and turning. Every night was a Wilson night now, and he didn’t say anything, but it made his stomach bubble with happiness at the thought. His old room would be turned back into a study/guest room.
As far as the medication problem went, they had both gotten new watches, synchronised them, and set the alarms to go off every 4 hours, to ensure that House got his medication on time. Hopefully, this would stave off any more pain catastrophes. After all the steps they took, Wilson’s job was to call 13 and tell her it was safe. She could come back again. It was hard for him to give up his days with House again, especially after he had just gotten the man back for a short while, but he knew that he couldn’t keep taking someone so dependent to work with him.
At least Wilson had Wednesday to look forward to. He had talked Cuddy into letting him take the day off for the meeting with Nolan.
Next chapter.