"Still No Reason" H/W Quadruple drabble. Post-No Reason.
Title: Still No Reason
Author: Karaokegal
Word Count: 400 exactly.
Summary: Post "No Reason"-Here we go again.
Rating: G
Warnings: Written in a pissy mood after a nasty bunny bite on
the way to work. Spoilers for "No Reason" Un-beta-ed
Crossposted to House_Wilson, Housefic, House_Slash and my Journal.
The fog of morphine and whatever else they’d given him receded, leaving House aware that he was alive, in a hospital room, and not alone. He opened his eyes and was hit with a distorted sense of déjà vu. Two chairs next to his bed, one empty. Concerned expression. Brunette hair, two days past it’s last shampoo. Here we go again.
“You’re pathetic.”
“You’re awake,” said Wilson, his voice breaking.
House wanted to ask about the patient but Wilson reached out for
his hand, smooth fingers grasping House’s so tightly he thought his friend might be testing for pain. He sighed and gave Wilson the squeeze back that he needed, letting him know he wouldn’t die on him. He hoped this Wilson was still willing to do his P.T. for him.
House squinted at the second chair.
“Cameron?” he asked.
“Oh God, Greg,” Wilson whispered, squeezing even harder. “She threw herself in front of you when the guy aimed again.”
“Even better than giving part of a liver. Too bad I’m not a guilt-ridden lesbian.”
“You don’t understand. He got her point blank in the chest. She didn’t make it.”
Then she’s happy in her martyr’s heaven. He managed not say it out loud, content to have to have Wilson holding his hand, their connection still unbroken after everything they’d done to each other.
He looked at the empty chair. If not Cameron, then who? Perhaps Chase, Cuddy and Foreman had taken turns, but only Wilson had stayed throughout the ordeal, as he always had.
Their hands warmed, melting together. House enjoyed the contact, but he still wanted to know about the patient. “Tongue guy…” he started.
Wilson shifted his grip, letting House take control of his left hand. He felt something hard under his fingers and looked down.
“You’re wearing your wedding ring.”
Wilson sighed.
“Julie came as soon as she heard about the shooting. She’s been here with me every minute. She just left for a second to go to the ladies room. I was so afraid you were going to die. I needed to talk to someone. She said she never meant to hurt me. She still… We’re going to try…”
House jerked his hand away as the pain came rushing back. All of it. If they’d used Ketamine, it hadn’t worked. He needed morphine. Now.
Please let this be another hallucination.
Author: Karaokegal
Word Count: 400 exactly.
Summary: Post "No Reason"-Here we go again.
Rating: G
Warnings: Written in a pissy mood after a nasty bunny bite on
the way to work. Spoilers for "No Reason" Un-beta-ed
Crossposted to House_Wilson, Housefic, House_Slash and my Journal.
The fog of morphine and whatever else they’d given him receded, leaving House aware that he was alive, in a hospital room, and not alone. He opened his eyes and was hit with a distorted sense of déjà vu. Two chairs next to his bed, one empty. Concerned expression. Brunette hair, two days past it’s last shampoo. Here we go again.
“You’re pathetic.”
“You’re awake,” said Wilson, his voice breaking.
House wanted to ask about the patient but Wilson reached out for
his hand, smooth fingers grasping House’s so tightly he thought his friend might be testing for pain. He sighed and gave Wilson the squeeze back that he needed, letting him know he wouldn’t die on him. He hoped this Wilson was still willing to do his P.T. for him.
House squinted at the second chair.
“Cameron?” he asked.
“Oh God, Greg,” Wilson whispered, squeezing even harder. “She threw herself in front of you when the guy aimed again.”
“Even better than giving part of a liver. Too bad I’m not a guilt-ridden lesbian.”
“You don’t understand. He got her point blank in the chest. She didn’t make it.”
Then she’s happy in her martyr’s heaven. He managed not say it out loud, content to have to have Wilson holding his hand, their connection still unbroken after everything they’d done to each other.
He looked at the empty chair. If not Cameron, then who? Perhaps Chase, Cuddy and Foreman had taken turns, but only Wilson had stayed throughout the ordeal, as he always had.
Their hands warmed, melting together. House enjoyed the contact, but he still wanted to know about the patient. “Tongue guy…” he started.
Wilson shifted his grip, letting House take control of his left hand. He felt something hard under his fingers and looked down.
“You’re wearing your wedding ring.”
Wilson sighed.
“Julie came as soon as she heard about the shooting. She’s been here with me every minute. She just left for a second to go to the ladies room. I was so afraid you were going to die. I needed to talk to someone. She said she never meant to hurt me. She still… We’re going to try…”
House jerked his hand away as the pain came rushing back. All of it. If they’d used Ketamine, it hadn’t worked. He needed morphine. Now.
Please let this be another hallucination.