Wilson
He has never been on this side of the glass before.
Despite his protestations otherwise, he can't bring himself not to be here.
He has been here since they started prepping for the surgery. He was here before that even; sitting in the dark when the first light turned on.
He watches them lay out the knives, test the instruments. And then the hour has come and they wheel him in.
He isn't sure if Wilson knows he is up here or if he just hopes he is, but his eyes find him up in the viewing gallery and he nods instead of returning his best friend's relieved smile.
He will be here when he wakes up; just like Wilson has always been there for him.
He is nervous something could go wrong.
Some part of him thinks that just by watching he will be able to will everything to go right.
He can't live with himself if he loses his best friend.
He sure as hell can't live with himself if someone else delivers the news to him because he was too much of a bastard to be here.
The surgery is well underway when someone joins him in the small viewing gallery.
He knows it's her because no one else would be stupid enough to intrude.
Not that he thinks of her as an intruder.
He actually feels relief that someone else is here to share the burden. That it is her. And he knows she loves Wilson too. Despite what's happening between them now, they have always had a weird almost incestuous relationship, so for her not to have come would have been odd. It would have hurt Wilson.
"Hey," she whispers softly, coming to stand next to him. She looks down into the operating theater and her breathe hitches at how small and vulnerable her friend looks. His insides literally on view.
"Everything is going as expected," he says never taking his eyes off of what is happening on the other side of the glass.
It's strange, House making small talk. Of course, she already knows everything is going as expected; if something had happened she would have been paged and he wouldn't be up here. He'd be down in that room and she would have been there seconds later to help him or stop him she didn't know.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier. I..." She trails off feeling that now that she sees him laying there cut open like that that suddenly her reasons aren't enough. Suddenly they are just excuses.
House nods.
He understands.
He wonders if she would have dropped everything if it had been him on that table.
If it had been Lucas.
Her earlier conversation with Wilson flashes through his mind and he closes his eyes against the thought of her moving in with Lucas; buying property together being just one step away from marriage and he can't stomach losing her so permanently.
She misinterprets his discomposure, taking his hand in hers, she threads their fingers together. "He'll be okay," she promises.
He squeezes her hand, but doesn't say anything.
They stay in that same position until the surgery is over, doing the only thing they can: watching.
Despite his protestations otherwise, he can't bring himself not to be here.
He has been here since they started prepping for the surgery. He was here before that even; sitting in the dark when the first light turned on.
He watches them lay out the knives, test the instruments. And then the hour has come and they wheel him in.
He isn't sure if Wilson knows he is up here or if he just hopes he is, but his eyes find him up in the viewing gallery and he nods instead of returning his best friend's relieved smile.
He will be here when he wakes up; just like Wilson has always been there for him.
He is nervous something could go wrong.
Some part of him thinks that just by watching he will be able to will everything to go right.
He can't live with himself if he loses his best friend.
He sure as hell can't live with himself if someone else delivers the news to him because he was too much of a bastard to be here.
The surgery is well underway when someone joins him in the small viewing gallery.
He knows it's her because no one else would be stupid enough to intrude.
Not that he thinks of her as an intruder.
He actually feels relief that someone else is here to share the burden. That it is her. And he knows she loves Wilson too. Despite what's happening between them now, they have always had a weird almost incestuous relationship, so for her not to have come would have been odd. It would have hurt Wilson.
"Hey," she whispers softly, coming to stand next to him. She looks down into the operating theater and her breathe hitches at how small and vulnerable her friend looks. His insides literally on view.
"Everything is going as expected," he says never taking his eyes off of what is happening on the other side of the glass.
It's strange, House making small talk. Of course, she already knows everything is going as expected; if something had happened she would have been paged and he wouldn't be up here. He'd be down in that room and she would have been there seconds later to help him or stop him she didn't know.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier. I..." She trails off feeling that now that she sees him laying there cut open like that that suddenly her reasons aren't enough. Suddenly they are just excuses.
House nods.
He understands.
He wonders if she would have dropped everything if it had been him on that table.
If it had been Lucas.
Her earlier conversation with Wilson flashes through his mind and he closes his eyes against the thought of her moving in with Lucas; buying property together being just one step away from marriage and he can't stomach losing her so permanently.
She misinterprets his discomposure, taking his hand in hers, she threads their fingers together. "He'll be okay," she promises.
He squeezes her hand, but doesn't say anything.
They stay in that same position until the surgery is over, doing the only thing they can: watching.