House/Wilson, Prompt 013. White, PG
Title: I Care
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 013. White
Word Count: 1783
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:
The white lab coat shone bright against the black of the road. Lights flashed red and blue lending an eerie quality to the scene. People rushed back and forth; paramedics, fire fighters, police. Bystanders stood at a respectful distance behind the tape the police had strung up and murmured to each other as they viewed the crumpled wreck of a car wrapped around the light pole.
House limped desperately towards the milling crowd, shoving his way through the bystanders. It was the lab coat that brought him to a halt. The pristine white lab coat, still with pocket protector intact, lying on the black road like a discarded skin. He froze as he stared down at it and felt himself begin to shiver. He took a deep breath and resolutely pressed on.
“Sir! Sir, you can’t come through here!”
He ignored the voice and continued limping towards the mangled car.
“Sir!” The voice seemed to possess a hand. It grabbed his arm, halting him with a painful jerk, and he looked over, trying to summon up a glare.
“Sir, this is an accident scene,” the young policeman said firmly. “You can’t be here.”
House stared at him for a moment. “It’s Wilson,” he said finally.
The policeman looked confused then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. You can’t stay here. Please go back behind the tape.”
House stared at him, not understanding the words, and the policeman began to apply gentle pressure to his arm to get him to move.
“Wait!”
Both House and the policeman looked over to where the call had come from. A paramedic came hurrying over, looking at House.
“Are you Greg?” he asked urgently.
House nodded and the paramedic grabbed at his other arm.
“He’s asking for you. He’s worked up. I think your presence might help keep him calm while they cut him out.”
The policeman let go of him and the paramedic led him over to the driver’s side of the wreck of a car. House swallowed hard and winced as he saw the result of the crash. The front of the car had been crushed backwards and Wilson’s legs were surely pinned underneath all that metal. The door and the steering wheel had already been removed but House could see the marks that had been left on Wilson’s chest by the steering wheel through the half-open shirt. A head wound had already been bandaged and Wilson was looking pale and agitated.
House limped over and slowly, painfully, lowered himself to the ground to bring himself level with his friend.
“Wilson,” he said, reaching for his friend’s hand.
Wilson grabbed it with relief and looked over at House, not only was he pale but sweat was beading on his forehead and his face was twisted with pain.
“Greg,” he gasped, calming as his hand closed convulsively around House’s. “Hurts.”
House gave Wilson and quick once over and tried to hide the wince when he saw how tightly the other man’s legs were pinned. Wilson had followed his gaze and he gave a breathy, pain-filled laugh.
“Can’t feel them,” he said between short, choppy breaths. “But everything else hurts. And I’m tired.”
He closed his eyes and House squeezed his hand hard. “Don’t you go to sleep on me,” he demanded and Wilson’s eyes popped open.
“Are you alright there, Greg?” The paramedic was back and he laid a hand on House’s shoulder. House nodded and the paramedic patted his shoulder. “I’m going to move your cane out of the way so that the fire fighters can start cutting James free. You stay where you are. We’ll work around you. Put this on though.”
The paramedic draped a spare fire fighter’s coat over House’s shoulder then hurried around to the other side of the car, climbing in a checking the IV that had been placed in Wilson’s arm. House shrugged into the coat then grabbed Wilson’s hand again.
“What happened?” he asked as several fire fighters stepped forward and started working on the front of the car.
“Julie called,” Wilson said, his voice sounding a bit faint. “Had her on hands free. She wants a divorce. I think I got distracted.”
House’s lips curled into a snarl. “Damn her!” he muttered. “You don’t tell someone that when they’re driving.”
“Don’t think she cared,” Wilson replied, the words dropping out of his mouth. “Can’t remember when she last cared. When anyone cared.”
The paramedic, who had been monitoring Wilson’s breathing and heart rate, gave House a worried look.
“Give him something to care about or we’ll lose him,” he said tersely before backing partially out of the car and yelling something to the fire fighters.
House stared at what he could see of the paramedic with surprise then flinched as the sound of rending metal ripped through the air. The car jerked as the fire fighters removed part of the front and House looked back at Wilson.
“I...care,” he said hesitantly as if only just realising this.
“What?” Wilson whispered, his eyes stuttering over to House’s face. His pallor had increased and dimly House recognised the signs of significant blood loss.
“I care,” House repeated, more firmly this time. “I care and if you go and die on me now, I’m going to resurrect you so that I can kill you.”
Something lit up in Wilson’s pain-filled eyes and a small smile creased his lips. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?” he said, his voice sounding a little stronger.
“Don’t you worry about my logic,” House said with airy dismissal.
The paramedic ducked back into the car and eyed Wilson. He gave House a nod of approval.
“They’re about to move the last section,” the paramedic said. “We’re not entirely sure how much damage has been done to James’ legs so we’re going to have to move fast. How quickly can you get out of the way, Greg?”
“Don’t worry about me,” House said with a frown then he looked down as Wilson squeezed his hand.
“Be careful,” Wilson said with concern.
“Worry about yourself for once,” House said with impatience.
Wilson’s lips quirked. “I care as well.”
House’s expression softened and he gently brushed Wilson’s hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“They’re ready,” the paramedic said, bracing Wilson on one side.
House reached in and braced him on the other then, on a count of three, the fire fighters shifted the remaining section of the car. Wilson paled and let out a gasping scream as the weight was shifted off his legs. House briefly caught a glimpse of torn flesh and even a glint of white bone before he shoved himself away with a pained grunt to allow the other paramedics access. In fairly short order they had Wilson out of the car and onto a gurney and were wheeling him towards the waiting ambulance. House crawled to his feet and looked around frantically for his cane.
“Here it is,” came the voice of the paramedic as he pressed the cane into House’s hand. “I’ve told them you’re to go with him.”
“Thank you,” House said before he limped after the gurney. The paramedic in the ambulance helped him climb in then they were speeding off.
“Which hospital are we going to?” House asked as he leaned forward to help the paramedic.
“Princeton-Plainsboro,” the paramedic said tersely. “What are you doing?”
“I’m a doctor,” House replied equally tersely and the paramedic nodded and let him continue. They could hear the driver radioing the details in the background.
“Play nicely with the other kids, Greg,” Wilson muttered, his voice slurred.
House leaned forward and brushed a hand down Wilson’s cheek. “Don’t I always?”
Wilson let out a breathy, pained laugh. “No. You have...trouble sharing.”
The paramedic grinned over at House. “We could have a tantrum right now if you like. I don’t share well either.” He glanced down at Wilson, who was laughing softly though painfully, then murmured quietly, “Can understand why you don’t want to share though.”
House’s reply was interrupted by their arrival at the hospital and he was forced to move aside while the paramedics rushed Wilson out. He grabbed his cane and painfully climbed down from the ambulance, following them in. The doctors and nurses in the ER swarmed around the gurney, shifting him onto a bed then starting with their treatment. House started towards the swarm but was stopped by Lisa Cuddy.
“Let them work,” she said gently. “They know what they’re doing. Besides, Chase is there. You trust him, don’t you?”
House looked over to see that she was right. The blond Australian doctor was working intently, talking quietly to Wilson as he did so.
“Trust him? No,” House said with a scowl. “But I suppose he knows what he’s doing most of the time.”
Cuddy kept one hand on his arm as they watched. It didn’t take long before Wilson was being taken up to an operating theatre then Chase walked over and joined them.
“His legs have been chewed up a bit but they should be able to repair all the damage,” he said as soon as he got to them. He had read House’s expression accurately and knew that his boss was not interested in questions or niceties. “He’s probably got a couple of broken ribs but they’ll do x-rays on the way to the operating theatre. It doesn’t look like there’s any internal bleeding.”
House nodded his thanks then shook himself free of Cuddy’s hand and limped off. He watched the operation through from the viewing room and was surprised when the surgeon turned to him at the end and gave him a thumbs up. He blinked then nodded his thanks. The wait until Wilson was moved into a room was interminable but finally he was seated next to Wilson’s bed, his cane leaning against the wall and his head resting in his hands.
“You’re still here,” came Wilson’s quiet rasping voice and he raised his head with a smile lingering around his lips.
“Your legs are going to be fine,” House said. “We’re going to be able to have cripple races for a while though.”
“No fair. You’ll win,” Wilson murmured as he groped for House’s hand. “More experience.”
House took the hand that was reaching for his and stared down their hands for a moment.
“You get to throw the cane away in the end,” he said quietly, his face tense.
Wilson waited silently until House looked up at him. “I’ll keep the cripple though.”
House felt something inside him relax and he smiled at his friend. Wilson smiled back, his white teeth flashing briefly, and they settled into a comfortable, promising silence.
Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson
Prompt: 013. White
Word Count: 1783
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Author's Notes:
The white lab coat shone bright against the black of the road. Lights flashed red and blue lending an eerie quality to the scene. People rushed back and forth; paramedics, fire fighters, police. Bystanders stood at a respectful distance behind the tape the police had strung up and murmured to each other as they viewed the crumpled wreck of a car wrapped around the light pole.
House limped desperately towards the milling crowd, shoving his way through the bystanders. It was the lab coat that brought him to a halt. The pristine white lab coat, still with pocket protector intact, lying on the black road like a discarded skin. He froze as he stared down at it and felt himself begin to shiver. He took a deep breath and resolutely pressed on.
“Sir! Sir, you can’t come through here!”
He ignored the voice and continued limping towards the mangled car.
“Sir!” The voice seemed to possess a hand. It grabbed his arm, halting him with a painful jerk, and he looked over, trying to summon up a glare.
“Sir, this is an accident scene,” the young policeman said firmly. “You can’t be here.”
House stared at him for a moment. “It’s Wilson,” he said finally.
The policeman looked confused then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. You can’t stay here. Please go back behind the tape.”
House stared at him, not understanding the words, and the policeman began to apply gentle pressure to his arm to get him to move.
“Wait!”
Both House and the policeman looked over to where the call had come from. A paramedic came hurrying over, looking at House.
“Are you Greg?” he asked urgently.
House nodded and the paramedic grabbed at his other arm.
“He’s asking for you. He’s worked up. I think your presence might help keep him calm while they cut him out.”
The policeman let go of him and the paramedic led him over to the driver’s side of the wreck of a car. House swallowed hard and winced as he saw the result of the crash. The front of the car had been crushed backwards and Wilson’s legs were surely pinned underneath all that metal. The door and the steering wheel had already been removed but House could see the marks that had been left on Wilson’s chest by the steering wheel through the half-open shirt. A head wound had already been bandaged and Wilson was looking pale and agitated.
House limped over and slowly, painfully, lowered himself to the ground to bring himself level with his friend.
“Wilson,” he said, reaching for his friend’s hand.
Wilson grabbed it with relief and looked over at House, not only was he pale but sweat was beading on his forehead and his face was twisted with pain.
“Greg,” he gasped, calming as his hand closed convulsively around House’s. “Hurts.”
House gave Wilson and quick once over and tried to hide the wince when he saw how tightly the other man’s legs were pinned. Wilson had followed his gaze and he gave a breathy, pain-filled laugh.
“Can’t feel them,” he said between short, choppy breaths. “But everything else hurts. And I’m tired.”
He closed his eyes and House squeezed his hand hard. “Don’t you go to sleep on me,” he demanded and Wilson’s eyes popped open.
“Are you alright there, Greg?” The paramedic was back and he laid a hand on House’s shoulder. House nodded and the paramedic patted his shoulder. “I’m going to move your cane out of the way so that the fire fighters can start cutting James free. You stay where you are. We’ll work around you. Put this on though.”
The paramedic draped a spare fire fighter’s coat over House’s shoulder then hurried around to the other side of the car, climbing in a checking the IV that had been placed in Wilson’s arm. House shrugged into the coat then grabbed Wilson’s hand again.
“What happened?” he asked as several fire fighters stepped forward and started working on the front of the car.
“Julie called,” Wilson said, his voice sounding a bit faint. “Had her on hands free. She wants a divorce. I think I got distracted.”
House’s lips curled into a snarl. “Damn her!” he muttered. “You don’t tell someone that when they’re driving.”
“Don’t think she cared,” Wilson replied, the words dropping out of his mouth. “Can’t remember when she last cared. When anyone cared.”
The paramedic, who had been monitoring Wilson’s breathing and heart rate, gave House a worried look.
“Give him something to care about or we’ll lose him,” he said tersely before backing partially out of the car and yelling something to the fire fighters.
House stared at what he could see of the paramedic with surprise then flinched as the sound of rending metal ripped through the air. The car jerked as the fire fighters removed part of the front and House looked back at Wilson.
“I...care,” he said hesitantly as if only just realising this.
“What?” Wilson whispered, his eyes stuttering over to House’s face. His pallor had increased and dimly House recognised the signs of significant blood loss.
“I care,” House repeated, more firmly this time. “I care and if you go and die on me now, I’m going to resurrect you so that I can kill you.”
Something lit up in Wilson’s pain-filled eyes and a small smile creased his lips. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?” he said, his voice sounding a little stronger.
“Don’t you worry about my logic,” House said with airy dismissal.
The paramedic ducked back into the car and eyed Wilson. He gave House a nod of approval.
“They’re about to move the last section,” the paramedic said. “We’re not entirely sure how much damage has been done to James’ legs so we’re going to have to move fast. How quickly can you get out of the way, Greg?”
“Don’t worry about me,” House said with a frown then he looked down as Wilson squeezed his hand.
“Be careful,” Wilson said with concern.
“Worry about yourself for once,” House said with impatience.
Wilson’s lips quirked. “I care as well.”
House’s expression softened and he gently brushed Wilson’s hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“They’re ready,” the paramedic said, bracing Wilson on one side.
House reached in and braced him on the other then, on a count of three, the fire fighters shifted the remaining section of the car. Wilson paled and let out a gasping scream as the weight was shifted off his legs. House briefly caught a glimpse of torn flesh and even a glint of white bone before he shoved himself away with a pained grunt to allow the other paramedics access. In fairly short order they had Wilson out of the car and onto a gurney and were wheeling him towards the waiting ambulance. House crawled to his feet and looked around frantically for his cane.
“Here it is,” came the voice of the paramedic as he pressed the cane into House’s hand. “I’ve told them you’re to go with him.”
“Thank you,” House said before he limped after the gurney. The paramedic in the ambulance helped him climb in then they were speeding off.
“Which hospital are we going to?” House asked as he leaned forward to help the paramedic.
“Princeton-Plainsboro,” the paramedic said tersely. “What are you doing?”
“I’m a doctor,” House replied equally tersely and the paramedic nodded and let him continue. They could hear the driver radioing the details in the background.
“Play nicely with the other kids, Greg,” Wilson muttered, his voice slurred.
House leaned forward and brushed a hand down Wilson’s cheek. “Don’t I always?”
Wilson let out a breathy, pained laugh. “No. You have...trouble sharing.”
The paramedic grinned over at House. “We could have a tantrum right now if you like. I don’t share well either.” He glanced down at Wilson, who was laughing softly though painfully, then murmured quietly, “Can understand why you don’t want to share though.”
House’s reply was interrupted by their arrival at the hospital and he was forced to move aside while the paramedics rushed Wilson out. He grabbed his cane and painfully climbed down from the ambulance, following them in. The doctors and nurses in the ER swarmed around the gurney, shifting him onto a bed then starting with their treatment. House started towards the swarm but was stopped by Lisa Cuddy.
“Let them work,” she said gently. “They know what they’re doing. Besides, Chase is there. You trust him, don’t you?”
House looked over to see that she was right. The blond Australian doctor was working intently, talking quietly to Wilson as he did so.
“Trust him? No,” House said with a scowl. “But I suppose he knows what he’s doing most of the time.”
Cuddy kept one hand on his arm as they watched. It didn’t take long before Wilson was being taken up to an operating theatre then Chase walked over and joined them.
“His legs have been chewed up a bit but they should be able to repair all the damage,” he said as soon as he got to them. He had read House’s expression accurately and knew that his boss was not interested in questions or niceties. “He’s probably got a couple of broken ribs but they’ll do x-rays on the way to the operating theatre. It doesn’t look like there’s any internal bleeding.”
House nodded his thanks then shook himself free of Cuddy’s hand and limped off. He watched the operation through from the viewing room and was surprised when the surgeon turned to him at the end and gave him a thumbs up. He blinked then nodded his thanks. The wait until Wilson was moved into a room was interminable but finally he was seated next to Wilson’s bed, his cane leaning against the wall and his head resting in his hands.
“You’re still here,” came Wilson’s quiet rasping voice and he raised his head with a smile lingering around his lips.
“Your legs are going to be fine,” House said. “We’re going to be able to have cripple races for a while though.”
“No fair. You’ll win,” Wilson murmured as he groped for House’s hand. “More experience.”
House took the hand that was reaching for his and stared down their hands for a moment.
“You get to throw the cane away in the end,” he said quietly, his face tense.
Wilson waited silently until House looked up at him. “I’ll keep the cripple though.”
House felt something inside him relax and he smiled at his friend. Wilson smiled back, his white teeth flashing briefly, and they settled into a comfortable, promising silence.