Fragment - Sick!Wilson
sickwilson_fest is open for prompt-claiming. To celebrate, here is a fragment I started way back when, which I'm not going to be able to finish.
Summary: Dr. House gets curious about the server at a hotel's restaurant, and can't resist poking. A verbal argument ensues.
Notes/Warnings: Set in 2005 (what would have been the beginning of Season One). James Wilson never went to med school, and Danny Wilson doesn't have schizophrenia. The fairytale referenced by Wilson was actually written by fallen_arazil: Ever and Ever.
Jim Wilson has been working at the three-meal-a-day restaurant at the Bridgewater Marriott for two years now. He likes it.
It's not too busy, which is good. A lot of one-time customers, which takes the pressure off. If he's having a bad day, if his speech slips or his mind goes away for a minute, the passing-through customers (transient, the hotel managers call them, and Jim likes that, like they're the ones who don't have a sure-forever home) don't give it a second thought. "Slow service," they mark on the customer-comment forms, but they don't think that it's something wrong with him.
There are a few repeaters. A handful from the USGA headquarters over in Far Hills come in, and some consultants who live locally bring in clients from time to time. Most ask to be seated in Jim's area. They trust him to take care of them. He's proud of that, although of course he'd never say it. He likes being able to tell what people might like, in what way they want to be served.
"Each guest is unique," says Clara, the front-of-the-house manager, but she doesn't mean it as a good thing, the way Jim might. If he were to say that. Which he doesn't, because it's trite and simplistic.
What he would say, if he had any inclination to make a generalization, would be, "Each person wants to be treated as unique." Nobody's really unique (except Jim and his ilk, he supposes), because if they were, you wouldn't be able to understand them. What people are is the same in unique ways. Patterns. See the pattern, and then you know how to understand them, how to help them.
Like Miss Marple from Agatha Christie's novels. She'd compare people she met to somebody back in her home town. Everybody is like somebody else, so that lets you know them. If they weren't like anybody else, then you'd worry.
The guy that came in the other day, he fit a pattern. Jerkass.
***
*Then there are paragraphs here describing a very abrasive man who is accompanied by two people in their twenties: a concerned but lovely looking brunette, and a handsome blond man who doesn't say much but smirks a lot. They mostly ignore Jim as he tries to serve them, but that's alright by him. They talk about medicine, and about breaking into someone's house (if Jim is hearing them correctly, which he kind of doubts because they don't look like burglars), and the abrasive man insults both his young companions viciously, multiple times. (One of the main points of this part being that a House who never knew Wilson is much more awful than one who did.)*
When Jim was younger-ish, he read a fairy tale about a prince who was arrogant and brilliant. The prince was also quite lonely, even though he had a mom and three servants. Still lonely. Then one day he met a man who was, in just about every respect, a nobody person. It didn't seem like they'd be equals, but when the prince said, "Your cooking tastes like cow plop," the nobody person replied, "You did look like a person who would have eaten crap." That put them on the road to being the best of friends.
Of course, Jim doesn't mention crap to the doctor (the food in the restaurant isn't five-star but it's not bad for the money). But there's something he says somewhere that makes the doctor grin just like Jim imagines the prince grinned at the nobody, and just for a minute, Jim feels special in an actually kind of good way. Not the sighed "special," nor the whispered "special," nor the sneered "special." The precious kind of special with value above rubies.
That, of course, is when everything goes wrong.
*Then there are paragraphs here detailing the altercation, which is caused by House very quickly finding Wilson's buttons and pushing them hard. Wilson tries to walk away, but then House says something attacking Cameron, and that is the last straw for Wilson, who verbally lets House have it.*
"He's a doctor," the young lady protests. "He saves lives!"
"I do too! I took my meds today!"
They don't get it -- the young lady and the young man have downturned foreheads. Confused. But the older guy, the doctor, says quietly, "And the voices stayed at bay?"
Jim shakes his head. "Not voices." He raises his hand in front of his left eye and flicks his fingers back and forth. "Movies. Like slow eight millimeter."
"Of who you need to take out," says the big-shot doctor. Says, not asks. So sure of himself, but he doesn't know as much as he thinks he does.
No.
Jim tugs at the corner of his eyebrow. (His mom is sighing, "Jimmy. You look so silly with all the hairs pulled out," but that's a memory, not an hallucination. He knows the difference. Dr. Li said he does.)
"Of the cleansing fire," he mumbles, hoping this group, the doctor and his friends, won't hear him. He doesn't want to tell them. He can't stop himself from saying, though, "White-orange flames that take everything down. Flesh is fickle but bones are strong. Pure. And they stay when the fire goes away."
"Are you sure you should be working?" the young lady says quietly.
*Then there are paragraphs here wrapping everything up. House doesn't leave a tip but Chase comes back and hands Wilson two twenties. Wilson doesn't take charity, but he does take money he's earned, so he pockets the cash and sends the young man off with a smile.*
***
*last scene I never fleshed out, but here's the dialogue*
"Hey, Jimmy. How's it going?"
"Don't call me Jimmy, and what are you doing here?"
"Clara said something was up, some problem at one of your tables."
"Everything's fine, Dan. Go away."
"She said you were upset."
"I'm not upset. I am, however, in the neighborhood of forty years old, and as such, it's frustrating to have my little brother checking up on me. Go away."
Summary: Dr. House gets curious about the server at a hotel's restaurant, and can't resist poking. A verbal argument ensues.
Notes/Warnings: Set in 2005 (what would have been the beginning of Season One). James Wilson never went to med school, and Danny Wilson doesn't have schizophrenia. The fairytale referenced by Wilson was actually written by fallen_arazil: Ever and Ever.
Jim Wilson has been working at the three-meal-a-day restaurant at the Bridgewater Marriott for two years now. He likes it.
It's not too busy, which is good. A lot of one-time customers, which takes the pressure off. If he's having a bad day, if his speech slips or his mind goes away for a minute, the passing-through customers (transient, the hotel managers call them, and Jim likes that, like they're the ones who don't have a sure-forever home) don't give it a second thought. "Slow service," they mark on the customer-comment forms, but they don't think that it's something wrong with him.
There are a few repeaters. A handful from the USGA headquarters over in Far Hills come in, and some consultants who live locally bring in clients from time to time. Most ask to be seated in Jim's area. They trust him to take care of them. He's proud of that, although of course he'd never say it. He likes being able to tell what people might like, in what way they want to be served.
"Each guest is unique," says Clara, the front-of-the-house manager, but she doesn't mean it as a good thing, the way Jim might. If he were to say that. Which he doesn't, because it's trite and simplistic.
What he would say, if he had any inclination to make a generalization, would be, "Each person wants to be treated as unique." Nobody's really unique (except Jim and his ilk, he supposes), because if they were, you wouldn't be able to understand them. What people are is the same in unique ways. Patterns. See the pattern, and then you know how to understand them, how to help them.
Like Miss Marple from Agatha Christie's novels. She'd compare people she met to somebody back in her home town. Everybody is like somebody else, so that lets you know them. If they weren't like anybody else, then you'd worry.
The guy that came in the other day, he fit a pattern. Jerkass.
***
*Then there are paragraphs here describing a very abrasive man who is accompanied by two people in their twenties: a concerned but lovely looking brunette, and a handsome blond man who doesn't say much but smirks a lot. They mostly ignore Jim as he tries to serve them, but that's alright by him. They talk about medicine, and about breaking into someone's house (if Jim is hearing them correctly, which he kind of doubts because they don't look like burglars), and the abrasive man insults both his young companions viciously, multiple times. (One of the main points of this part being that a House who never knew Wilson is much more awful than one who did.)*
When Jim was younger-ish, he read a fairy tale about a prince who was arrogant and brilliant. The prince was also quite lonely, even though he had a mom and three servants. Still lonely. Then one day he met a man who was, in just about every respect, a nobody person. It didn't seem like they'd be equals, but when the prince said, "Your cooking tastes like cow plop," the nobody person replied, "You did look like a person who would have eaten crap." That put them on the road to being the best of friends.
Of course, Jim doesn't mention crap to the doctor (the food in the restaurant isn't five-star but it's not bad for the money). But there's something he says somewhere that makes the doctor grin just like Jim imagines the prince grinned at the nobody, and just for a minute, Jim feels special in an actually kind of good way. Not the sighed "special," nor the whispered "special," nor the sneered "special." The precious kind of special with value above rubies.
That, of course, is when everything goes wrong.
*Then there are paragraphs here detailing the altercation, which is caused by House very quickly finding Wilson's buttons and pushing them hard. Wilson tries to walk away, but then House says something attacking Cameron, and that is the last straw for Wilson, who verbally lets House have it.*
"He's a doctor," the young lady protests. "He saves lives!"
"I do too! I took my meds today!"
They don't get it -- the young lady and the young man have downturned foreheads. Confused. But the older guy, the doctor, says quietly, "And the voices stayed at bay?"
Jim shakes his head. "Not voices." He raises his hand in front of his left eye and flicks his fingers back and forth. "Movies. Like slow eight millimeter."
"Of who you need to take out," says the big-shot doctor. Says, not asks. So sure of himself, but he doesn't know as much as he thinks he does.
No.
Jim tugs at the corner of his eyebrow. (His mom is sighing, "Jimmy. You look so silly with all the hairs pulled out," but that's a memory, not an hallucination. He knows the difference. Dr. Li said he does.)
"Of the cleansing fire," he mumbles, hoping this group, the doctor and his friends, won't hear him. He doesn't want to tell them. He can't stop himself from saying, though, "White-orange flames that take everything down. Flesh is fickle but bones are strong. Pure. And they stay when the fire goes away."
"Are you sure you should be working?" the young lady says quietly.
*Then there are paragraphs here wrapping everything up. House doesn't leave a tip but Chase comes back and hands Wilson two twenties. Wilson doesn't take charity, but he does take money he's earned, so he pockets the cash and sends the young man off with a smile.*
***
*last scene I never fleshed out, but here's the dialogue*
"Hey, Jimmy. How's it going?"
"Don't call me Jimmy, and what are you doing here?"
"Clara said something was up, some problem at one of your tables."
"Everything's fine, Dan. Go away."
"She said you were upset."
"I'm not upset. I am, however, in the neighborhood of forty years old, and as such, it's frustrating to have my little brother checking up on me. Go away."