Title Unknown- But It Isn't Really Worth One
House and Wilson sit down for a good ‘ol evening at House’s apartment, and Wilson, sick of WWE, is digging through the vault of FF.net. This is what turns up.
Wilson: Looks like it could be interesting.
House: Look at the description, I’m probably crying somewhere. And it involves Cuddy. I’m going to say not.
Wilson: *quickly clicks on it before House can protest*
Thursday, November 20, 2008
About 9:15 am
Wilson: Is this a CSI-crossover? With the date scrolling across the screen in typewriter print? Why else would the date matter?
House: I pretty sure I was still hungover that Thursday.
Cuddy walked into her office, shut the door and sat down comfortable. She sighed as she saw the amount of paperwork and accident reports on her desk. She skimmed through the files slowly.
She stopped on a file entitled “House.” Confused and worried she picked up the police report and put the others down. At first she told herself it was a family member or perhaps not even in relation to Greg. Curious she opened it up.
Wilson: Greg? I thought I was the only one who called you that.
House: No you don’t.
Wilson: *sighs and rips open a bag of organic rice cakes*
Date of accident: Nov. 19, 2008
Injuries/ fatalities: 1 fatality/ 1 serious injury
Persons: Samuel McDaniel, Gregory House
House: Hey, it kind of rhymes. Samuel McDaniel, I mean. Still he died, not me.
Situation: Hit and run Motorcylcer hit off road by tractertrailer driver
Wilson: Ick. Spelling. *cringes*
See page 8 of report for more info (157-777-2348)
House: Should I call the number and see what happens? Because there’s an abandoned phone booth in the Mojave Desert that you can call, but it’s been disconnected. I wonder if this is one of those.
Wilson: *has headed over to the microwave to make popcorn* This sounds better than the fic. Continue.
House: That’s all there is. I don’t remember anything else about it.
Wilson: Oh.
Lisa felt her heart sink. She turned to the pages and read the rest of the file. Her first reaction was to go straight the to Wilson and tell him but she couldn’t find the strength to get up.
Wilson: Straight to ‘THE’ Wilson? Is that what you meant? I’m flattered.
She felt paralyzed by her tears, which threatened to stream down her face. So she put her head down and lightly cried to herself for a while.
House: The real Cuddy would actually do something.
X
A few minutes later Lisa heard a knock at her door.
Knock Knock
Wilson: Just in case we didn’t infer that from ‘heard a knock at her door.’
Lisa whipped her eyes and replied, “Come in.” Wilson strode in with his white jacket looking more wrinkled than normal. He noticed Cuddy had been crying on account of her make up a little spread. “Hey, you okay?”
House: Whipped? As in long, leather piece? Wow, Lisa. I had no idea that there were any pleasure centers in the eye. Even I don’t find that erotic.
Wilson: My coat is wrinkled? What was I doing? At least this author has a taste for subtext. *sneaks a glance at House*
“I’m fine don’t worry. What is it I can do for you James?” Wilson looked down at her, “Nothing actually. I just wanted to tell you that Greg is in the intensive care unit. He got into a crash. I wanted to tell you first because you two were… close.”
House: *mimicks in nasal voice* Nothing, really. It doesn’t matter; I just wanted you to know that my best friend was in a car crash.
Wilson: *indignant* I do not sound like that!
House: You sort of do.
Lisa smiled at him with her watery eyes. “I Know. Thanks James. I really appreciate it.” Wilson looked at her for a brief moment and realized why she was crying and sighed. Lisa got up and walked over to Wilson. He put his arms out for her and pulled her into a hug.
House: Is this one of those House/Cuddy/Wilson fics?
Wilson: What? Did you say my name?
“Is he going to be okay James?” James whipped away his tears which he tried to hid, “He’s gonna be okay. His legs were burned badly and he had a concussion…” Lisa smiled, “Thank god.” They let go of each other.
Wilson: *breathes a sigh of relief* It was about time. You’re right, House, there is a lot of whipping going on. It disturbs me, a lot.
Wilson nodded toward the door. “You should go see him.”
Lisa turned and walked with Wilson out of her office and to the elevator.
X
House: The X here indicates that they went into the elevator and died.
Lisa walked into House’s room. When she saw the condition he was in it wasn’t as bad as she thought, but she realized he could have died. Besides this wasn’t his first brush with death.
House: Commas, please. And how is my ‘just about dying’ not bad?
She turned around and noticed Wilson who was standing behind the glass barrier. He nodded to her and smiled. She smiled and turned back towards Greg. He wasn’t awake and looked so pale. Lisa felt her eyes weld up with tears.
Wilson: Weld? As in taking a torch and soldering them to her eye? Eww.
House: Did you just say eww?
Wilson: The verb warranted it.
She ran her hand over the unbruised side of his face. Then she sat down next to him. She glanced back at Wilson who lightly smirked and walked away. She sat there for a few minutes watching his shallow breathing.
House: It’s like the Phantom. She doesn’t actually love the damaged parts of me. *fake weeps*
Wilson: Why am I smirking? I never smirk.
House: Because you’re secretly a Jewish terrorist who wants to break down all of our emotional defences so that you can bomb the hospital.
Wilson: Uh... weird stereotype. But in this fic, I could see it happening.
X
On Saturday Lisa was sitting next to Greg, like she had done all week, when it began to snow outside. Lisa walked up to the window. By now the snow had already made a light blanket.
She smiled. It looked beautiful outside. She turned to look at a sleeping Greg. He didn’t look too good. Lisa ran her hand over his chest and sat down her comfortable chair. “It’s snowing out…” She took his cold hand in hers.
“God House stop doing this to me. I don’t think I can take much more,” she laid her head next to her hand in his.
House: Yes, stop doing this to me. I think I might smash the monitor.
Wilson: ‘laid her head next to her hand in his?’ That’s a bit confusing.
She was so tired, between the amount of paperwork she’d had this week and staying in Greg’s room she was exhausted.
House: WHAT IS WITH ALL OF THE GREG? My mom only calls me that after I eat all the corn chips.
Blythe: You ate all of the corn chips?
House: (sheepish) Maybe.
Blythe: *Hits him with dustpan*
Then she heard a soft whisper, “Really?” Cuddy immediately put her head up, “Hey…” Greg softly turned his head toward her. “What happened Lisa? Both my legs hurt. Last I checked I only had one peg leg.”
Wilson: Everyone is on a first-name-basis in this fic. Maybe it is House/Cuddy/Wilson. *scrolls up the page and checks pairing* Okay, there isn’t one. We have to guess.
House: I’ve always thought that Greg made me sound like a scared little kid. And here, I talk like one too.
Cuddy smiled and sat up trying to keep her composure, “You were hit on your motorcycle. You’re going to be okay.”
House: You say that now, but I haven’t finished the fic yet.
Cuddy let go of his hand and rose from her chair. “You need your rest.” She walked toward the door. “Please. Don’t go.”
Surprised she turned around. Greg looked at her completely unguarded. For the first time she caught him. There was something different about his features. His face looked softer. Lisa almost thought she saw love in his eyes.
House: Are those cherubs I see, lying on a soft pink bed surrounded by cooing lambs? If they are, I might be able to stomach it better.
Wilson: I think this author knows you personally. *wiggles his eyebrows at House*
House: RAPIST!
She smiled, “Okay.”
House watched as she walked back over to him and sat down on the foot of his hospital bed. He glanced up at her. Right then he realized how elegant and beautiful she really was.
Wilson: You’ve never realized that about me before.
House: I don’t think I’ve ever realized that about Cuddy either.
He shook off his thoughts, “So how long were you here?”
Cuddy shook her head. “Uhm, the whole time…” House smiled. “No life,” and Lisa laughed. “So they say.” She looked down at her hands, “Seriously I stayed because you needed someone at your side and well James has dying patients. And you’re my friend.”
House: HELLO, WILSON? I’M A DYING PATIENT TOO.
Wilson: You forget that this is fic!me.
House: But the complete lack of care about my well-being is remarkably similar.
Wilson: Ouch. Not true.
Greg looked confused. “You care?” Now she knew her foot was in her mouth, “Would it make a difference?” Greg nodded. After a moment she replied, “Of course I do, I always have.” Greg raised his hand to her cheek, “I did feel someone holding my hand and well I didn’t think it was Wilson.” They both laughed.
House: It’s always good to know when your foot is in your mouth.
Wilson: *looks hurt* Why wouldn’t it be me holding your hand?
House: Because this author thinks that I’m meant for Cuddy, obviously.
“I love you Cuddy,” he said with no strings attached. Lisa smiled and kissed his hand.
House: So, like when I told Cameron I loved her just to get a swab? I don’t know what other rationale I would have for saying that.
There are always strings attached. The author lies.
Wilson: *clicks out of window* Well, that was pointless.
House: So, WWE?
Wilson: Hell, anything.