Those Things We Don't Say- Part 3
Title: Those Things We Don’t Say (3/6)
Author: LadyKatie
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers, slash, language
Summary: Wilson visits House every week after the events of the season 5 finale. As he struggles to help House fix his life he must also confront the problems in their friendship and his own feelings.
Disclaimer: House M.D. and characters are the property of David Shore, Fox, ect. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Part One * Part Two
Part 3
Week Ten
They were actually outside for once. It seemed that every time Wilson had visited it rained, just like that first day, but the sun had finally come out. There was not a cloud in the sky and it gave the hospital grounds an almost happy feel. After getting the okay from Dr. Beck, Wilson brought lunch from one of House’s favorite places in Princeton and they sat at one of the tables in the large, fenced in yard.
“My shrink says I have unresolved feelings of anger toward my dad,” House said suddenly in his usual mocking tone.
Wilson’s eyebrows rose. It was grossly unlike House to talk about his session with Dr. Beck. The entire time he’d been there they never even mentioned his treatment program beyond what drugs he was on. But whether House really wanted to talk about it or if he was just taking the opportunity to complain about psychiatrists, Wilson was more than happy to oblige.
“I’d say he’s probably right.” House rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know it’s such a cliché to go to the shrink and blame your parents for everything, but you stole the guy’s DNA at his funeral. I’d say that could indicate some issues.”
House seemed to consider this for a moment and then smiled mischievously. “You should have seen the look on his face when I told him about that. I think he wanted to ask why someone hadn’t brought me here sooner.”
Wilson grinned. “Well he doesn’t know you very well, does he?”
“Aren’t shrinks supposed to be more shock-resistant than that?”
“They have heard it all,” Wilson nodded and then added dryly, “You should win some sort of award.”
“Well, we all knew I win the screwed up award.”
Wilson frowned. Instead of succeeding in sounding proud about his ability to shock and horrify the doctor, House let a hint of sadness into his voice that Wilson caught. So House really did want to talk. He just couldn’t say it in so many words. Wilson put his sandwich down.
“Define screwed up. We’re all screwed up in some way. I’m not denying that you are at least slightly more screwed up than others maybe, but you’re not so bad. It could be worse.”
“This from the guy who’s always trying to get me to change.”
Wilson smiled, but then thought about all the times he had told House to change, even tried to force the change. If asked at the time he would have said that it was for House’s own good, but Wilson wondered now if it wasn’t more to protect his own sanity.
“I don’t want you to change,” he said quietly.
“Right. Then why the hell do you try so hard to make it happen?”
He shrugged. “I don’t want to see you self destruct. And, if I’m honest, there is a part of me that just wants you to stop risking my job and reputation and making me lie to the police for you.” He shrugged again, ashamed of his selfishness. “But I wouldn’t want to change who you are.”
“Is that why you’re so passive-aggressive about it?” He reached across the table and grabbed a handful of Wilson’s chips.
“Maybe.
House snorted and spoke through the chips in his mouth. “You wanted the good changes without changing the parts that you wanted to keep. You sure you’re not the one who needs the shrink?”
“I just want you to be happy for once.”
“I’m perfectly happy.” He gestured around at their current setting. “What’s not to be happy about?”
Wilson let the sound of the breeze and birds fill the silence for a while as he contemplated the subject of change.
“The last day you were at work…” He could see House tense at the mention of that day. “When we were on the balcony overlooking the lobby you said something.”
He nodded carefully. “I said a lot of things that day. Most of them probably didn’t make much sense.”
“You said that I was afraid of you being with Cuddy because our relationship would change. That our relationship would be doomed.” Wilson was watching him carefully for his reaction, unsure of how House was going to feel about this particular line of questioning. “You were projecting.” House looked away, squinting out at the sunny lawn. “Is that really why you never just asked her out, even before that? Are you afraid of all change or just of changing our friendship?”
“I’m not afraid. It wouldn’t have worked with her anyway. It’s just… we’re too different.”
“But you’re not. You’re both doctors, you both like each other. And she’s about the only person on earth who can tolerate you long enough to have a relationship.”
“Aside from you.”
Wilson took a moment to do some fast thinking. This was not the time or the place to talk about that, but he found his heart was accelerating the way it always did when House jokingly implied that they were in some way like a couple. But it was true, wasn’t it? House was his longest adult relationship and he was House’s.
“Yes, well we weren’t talking about me.”
“Weren’t we? It was about not wanting what’s between us to change.”
It seemed like House might be fishing for something, but Wilson wasn’t completely sure what and didn’t want to risk guessing wrong, so he just continued with what he was already thinking.
“What you said… I didn’t think much of it then. Honestly I thought you were just rambling to avoid having a real conversation. Since then it really helped me make sense of things. That was why you were so confrontational with Amber… with anyone I was interested in…. You didn’t want it to change things?”
Wilson trailed off, hoping that House would say something that would indicate what he was thinking. House didn’t help him out though. He just sort of sat there and didn’t say anything for a while. Wilson was beyond frustrated, but something had occurred to him that week that he had to have confirmed.
He was at House’s apartment to pick up mail and, as had become habit, he ended up staying the night there on the couch. He knew that it was pathetic, but he was lonely and being in House’s place eased the loneliness. But while he was lying there, once again overanalyzing the situation, he realized that there was a very good chance that he wasn’t the only one who had thought of his friend as more than a friend.
House was an obsessive bastard. He was nosey and rude and had an opinion about absolutely everything, whether it was his business or not. But when it came to his relationship with Wilson he went above and beyond his usual. Wilson knew that he was House’s only friend, but sometimes it seemed that maybe there was another reason he didn’t want their relationship to change. Maybe it wasn’t change itself, but the kind of change that involved Wilson dating.
Wilson took a deep breath and tried again.
“You’re my best friend, House. You always have been. Whatever changes in our lives, it won’t change that.”
“You honestly think that Cuddy and I should date.”
“Why not? It would involve you behaving like a human being to her and possibly not sabotaging her office, but I think you could manage it. You’ve done relationships before.”
He shook his head. “It would start hot and end ugly. I’d hate her baby and then she’d hate me. And try to make me a lovable, cuddly version of myself. You’re the only one who can put up with me long term.”
He said it simply, carefully void of any suggestion, but he glanced back up at Wilson for his reaction. For his part, Wilson kept his face neutral. House didn’t need to know that his heart just might pound through his chest. He weighed his next words carefully, adding just the right amount humor so that House could laugh it off if he wanted, but wouldn’t think that Wilson was laughing at him either.
“Yeah, but that’s irrelevant, unless you wanted to date me.”
“I didn’t say that,” he retorted defensively.
“I didn’t say you did.”
House wouldn’t look at him and the tension between them was suddenly thick. He had definitely hit a nerve.
“Just so you know,” Wilson began carefully. “I wouldn’t have been… offended if you had said that.”
House finally did look up at him with wide eyes that quickly narrowed in suspicion. “Exactly what are you saying, Wilson?”
Wilson hesitated, unsure of how to continue or how much of his feelings he should reveal. Unfortunately, House interpreted the hesitation wrong.
“What did Beck tell you?”
“What?” He had absolutely no idea where that question had come from, or why it was asked with such venom. “Nothing.”
“Bull shit!” House was trembling now. “Do the two of you get together just to talk about how nuts I am this week?”
“You’re not making any sense. Beck didn’t say anything to me. Our conversations are kept to a minimum. Some of us take confidentiality seriously.”
“Then why would you say that?”
“Say what?” Wilson had to think back now to what had started House on this angry tirade that had taken him completely by surprise. “You said that I… and then…” It seemed like it was taking longer than normal for the last piece to slide into place. “Oh. Oh god. House?”
House, always a couple steps faster than Wilson, paled as he realized at once that he himself and not Dr. Beck had given away his secret. Beck had never so much as hinted at what House said to him in their sessions, but given House’s reaction to Wilson’s tiny allusion to his own feelings, he could now guess at some of what House had talked to his shrink about.
House looked sick and Wilson glanced around looking for help nearby if it was needed. Most of the orderlies were all closer to the building where the majority of the patients stayed. He and House had picked this particular table because it was rather private.
“House, say something to me.”
He just shook his head, unable to make eye contact. Wilson wondered if he might be having a panic attack.
“House, it’s okay. Do you hear me?”
“It’s okay? How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. Whatever you thought he told me, it’s okay. We can deal with this.”
Wilson leaned forward trying to capture House’s attention, but the man only backed away more. He was regarding Wilson cautiously, as if he might a rabid animal and shook his head.
“This is not okay,” he muttered softly. “As if you needed more of an excuse to run away.”
“Look at me, House.” He waited for the hesitant eye contact. “I’m not running anywhere.”
House didn’t answer and quite obviously was not comforted at all.
“Maybe there is a reason why we keep coming back, why both of us are afraid of losing the other.”
There. It was out. Maybe he didn’t completely come clean, but it was an acknowledgement of both their feelings and that at least was different. House still wouldn’t make eye contact though.
“Wilson… The last thing I need is your insanity on top of my insanity.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m trying to deal with this and move on and you have to go and start talking like this?”
“But if there’s something about you and me that you need to deal with, don’t just bury it; tell me.”
“Don’t you get? I can’t! Not now. Maybe not ever.”
He got up abruptly and headed back into the building. Wilson knew he was dismissed for the afternoon. He wondered if he should speak to House’s doctor before leaving and explain the damage he may have done. Despite his embarrassment, he cleaned up their lunch and went in search of Dr. Beck. A familiar nurse was just inside the door in the visitors room. Her name was Annette. She was always working when he visited House and she always smiled and greeted him.
“Excuse me, do you know if Dr. Beck is in? I’d like to speak to him or leave a message if possible.”
“Oh, he’s here, but he’s probably in a session right now with your friend, Greg.”
“With Greg? I was just with him outside.”
“I know. I let him back into the ward. He was going to Dr. Beck’s office.”
“Great.” Wilson figured he must have upset House even more than he thought, but Annette must have read it on his face.
“Is something wrong? He does that every week, so I didn’t think much of it.”
That stopped Wilson. “Every week?”
“I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”
She seemed embarrassed at revealing something confidential, but Wilson desperately wanted her to elaborate a little. So he put on a friendly, possibly flirtatious smile.
“Greg sees his doctor every Saturday?”
She smiled back shyly and nodded. “It just started a few weeks ago. He was upset and went to Dr. Beck’s office on his own. Since then they’ve met every week. Usually right after you leave.”
“Why?” He knew it was a dumb question the minute it was out of his mouth. Annette certainly wouldn’t know that.
“Do you still want to leave a message for Dr. Beck?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you.”
With one last parting smile Wilson made his way quickly to the front of the building and out to his car. He had fucked up massively, he knew. But now there was this other piece of information nagging at him. House went to see Beck every week after their visits. What did that mean? He knew there was a damn good reason for House needing to talk to someone this particular afternoon, but every week?
Wilson started his car and began his long drive home, mentally kicking himself the entire way. He could have set House’s progress back weeks. And yet, there was a tiny little voice of joy inside him that said it was okay because House felt something for him too. He squashed the voice down, silencing it. This was not a victory. He didn’t even know what it was. There was no way he was going to let this get in the way of House’s recovery.
Wilson couldn’t figure out how things went so wrong. Obviously House had shared private feelings with Beck and when Wilson opened his big mouth, House mistook it for something else. Maybe he thought Wilson was trying to make him feel safe enough to talk about his feelings. He was, but not because he already knew. The entire conversation felt like House was hinting at something, like he wanted to know if Wilson felt the same. Then he said he couldn’t deal with it.
Desperately in need of a lifeline, Wilson decided to phone a friend. Dr. Wong was an old buddy from college, and though they were never extremely close, Wilson made a point of keeping on good speaking terms with everyone. What’s more, Wong had recently accepted a teaching job in Princeton. They kept saying they would make time to have lunch and catch up, but it hadn’t happened yet. Wilson decided that Monday was a perfect time.
“I was surprised you called. I’ve been here for three months and I’ve hardly heard anything from you.”
“I’m sorry. It’s been a busy three months, Alex. And actually… I do have a small problem and need advice.”
“I figured. It’s one of the hazards of specializing in psychiatry. Though I imagine it’s better than everyone you know asking you to take a look at their moles to check for skin cancer.”
Wilson smiled awkwardly, wondering how to begin. You see, I have this friend and he has a friend and… No, if this was going to work it couldn’t be totally anonymous.
“Can we call this a doctor-patient consult? I really can’t have this going beyond this table.”
“This must be good. Sure, if you pay for my steak it’s a deal.”
“Done. I have a friend.” Wong raised an eyebrow. How many times had he heard people describe the problems of “a friend”? “No, really. He’s a very close friend. He’s had some emotional issues lately that he’s… seeking help for.”
He continued by describing a little bit more about House, without actually using his name. And after reassuring himself several times that Wong was professional enough to not repeat any of this, he began to explain the recent problems House was having. He referred to the hallucinations as being caused by a medical condition. Wilson wasn’t sure if Wong had already figured out who the mystery friend was or not, but he knew if he mentioned Vicodin, then it wouldn’t take much more deduce correctly. Finally, Wilson finished his story, leaving out only some minor details.
“You said you just guessed that he was hiding feelings for you?”
“After a decade or more of innuendo you start to figure things out.”
“And you guessed correctly by the sound of it.”
“So what do I do?”
“What do you want to do?”
Wilson hesitated. “I just want him to be happy. I want him to get better.”
“But you’re having a hard time understanding him.”
“That’s pretty much why I’m here.”
“The two of you are close.”
“He’s my best friend.”
“And now you think he wants more. That maybe that’s part of why he’s sick.”
“Or couldn’t it be the other way around? Maybe the only reason why he thinks he has feelings for me is that he’s sick? We are really close and in his confusion, maybe he’s just made that into something more in his mind… as a way of dealing with everything.”
“No, I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“He’s getting better, right? The hallucinations are more or less gone and he should be thinking clearly again.”
Wilson nodded.
“Then I would guess whatever feelings he has currently for the people in his life are true. You said he is extremely uncomfortable expressing his emotions, right? So you don’t really know what he was feeling before. All you have to go on is what he says or doesn’t say now.”
“So you’re saying that he’s in love with me.”
“I’m saying that what he feels for you or anyone else predates his hospitalization. Most likely.”
“Then what about his delusion that he seduced our female coworker? If he’s so in love with me then why was his delusion about her?”
“You know that without talking to him myself this is all speculation. I can’t know for sure. There are different kinds of delusions, caused by different things. You said he had hallucinations first, in which he knew he was seeing something that wasn’t real. I’m sure he was sufficiently disturbed by that, felt like his entire world was ending. The hallucination morphed into a pleasant little scenario in which the world was perfect. He was happy about his perceived reality, felt like things were coming together. When we create a delusion as an escape we create the reality that is most pleasant, psychologically speaking. I assume he’s never given you any reason to believe he’s anything other than straight?”
“Aside from innuendo, no.”
“Sexuality is one of the scariest things some people will ever have to face about themselves. Gender roles and sexual stereotypes are so ingrained in us from birth that it feels at times impossible to break free. Men are told from the beginning how to be men and what ‘normal’ is. Hell, I grew up on John Wayne movies. Talk about not being able to live up to expectations…” He chuckled. “It’s not pleasant to question that. For most people a homosexual delusion would internally raise more issues than it actually solves. We bury homosexual feelings so deep that sometimes we don’t even know they are there. I think that a delusion involving a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman is a more pleasant scenario for a middle-aged, presumably straight man. Anything else is just too confusing.”
“She was safe,” Wilson concluded. It was starting to make sense. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to believe that House actually had feelings for him, but Wong’s theory was something to think about. He thought of House’s dad, the strict Marine. No, there would be no room for questioning anything outside of “normal” in that house. Whether House liked to admit it or not, his dad’s rules and attitude were still with him. “Couldn’t he have hallucinated her because he really does want her?”
“Sure. Anything’s possible. But combined with what you told me about the conversation with him, I’d say that it’s not specifically about her or you or anyone. What he really wants is to feel happy, normal. He’s lucky; most patients have terrible delusions. Their subconscious is set on torturing them. Instead, his mind wanted to get away from whatever pain he was experiencing in this life so it created a new one.”
Wong was studying Wilson carefully as he processed all of this. “You have feelings for him too.”
There wasn’t really much point in hiding it anymore.
“I thought so. He’s lucky.”
“How?”
“You’re really taking the time to figure this out. You care enough about his mental health to come to me about it. Even though, you have to know that it’s probably going to end badly.”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you think this is going to end, James? You confess your undying love for him and he for you and then you ride off into the sunset together? Except that he’s institutionalized and working through what sounds like a lot of other emotional baggage.”
“I know. It’s not like I’m going to try to start a relationship with him now. We can’t now… if ever. Maybe I shouldn’t even visit him so much.”
“So he can think that the man he loves abandoned him?” Wong smirked. “And once a week is not ‘so much.’”
“Then how do I see him every week and pretend like none of this happened?”
“Don’t pretend. Talk about it. Be honest and be especially honest about why nothing can happen right now.”
Their lunch was drawing to a close when Wong had one more question.
“I just have to know, if you’ve had feelings for him, why didn’t you say anything before he was in the hospital? Why now?”
“I don’t know why now. But before… well, you said yourself sexuality is a scary thing to face.”
Wilson was determined to get this matter settled as quickly as possible. As soon as he had finished his lunch with Wong, he called Mayfield and scheduled a meeting with Dr. Beck for that afternoon. He then cancelled his afternoon appointments, feeling only a little guilty for blowing off work again. House was more important.
Dr. Beck’s office was comfortable. Not too bright and cheery, but warm. He imagined House would have felt right at home here.
“I wasn’t surprised to get your call, Dr. Wilson. I thought you might want to see me.”
“Did House tell you about our conversation, Saturday?”
Beck nodded.
“I just wanted to know if he’s okay. I know you can’t tell me anything else, but I really need to know that I didn’t mess up everything.”
“He’s… shaken up, but no, I don’t think you messed anything up. He’s fine.”
“Do you think maybe he needs a break from me? I could back off.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Well after everything that happened Saturday… I did a lot of thinking and even talked to a friend of mine. But the more I think about it though I think maybe he would do better, recover quicker if I wasn’t around.”
Beck frowned. “Did you know that you’re his only visitor?”
“The only other people who know he’s here is his mother and Dr. Cuddy. His department has been told he is having problems with his leg and is on medical leave. He would never be able to face them again if they knew the truth.”
“His mother doesn’t want to see him?”
“He won’t see her. I think he only let me contact her because he was so out of it on the drugs. We still didn’t know what was wrong or how long he would be here, so I insisted that she should know.”
Beck nodded.
“And Cuddy… I’ve asked a couple times if he’s ready to see her, but the way things happened before he came here, you can see how it would be awkward.”
He nodded once more. “First of all, he’s not that fragile, so don’t worry about breaking him. Secondly, out of everyone he knows, you’re the only one in a position to help him. He needs you. He needs someone. Don’t let one awkward visit stop you.”
Wilson considered this. “That’s what my friend said too.”
“Smart friend.”
Wilson decided he may as well talk to House while he was there and get that conversation out of the way. He went to the visitor’s area to wait while Dr. Beck sent for House. When he arrived he seemed unsure about Wilson’s presence, but cautiously sat in the chair across from him at the table at the far side of the room. Wilson figured it would be less awkward than at their usual place on the couch.
“I didn’t tell you to come more than once a week.”
“I know.”
“This is about the other day. Just let it go.”
“I can’t. For once we really do need to talk about it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, crossing his arms stubbornly.
“There is,” Wilson replied firmly. “Things were… implied that maybe shouldn’t have been.”
“Because they weren’t true,” House said quickly.
He shook his head. “Because no matter how true they may be, they are not what you need to be dealing with right now.”
Their eyes locked briefly. House was studying him carefully, making Wilson uncomfortable enough that he had to look away.
“House, you’re my best friend. That no matter what else there is, I will be here for you as a friend. It was stupid and irresponsible of me to bring up anything else.”
“But there is something else.”
Wilson nodded. “Maybe there always has been. But that’s not important right now. That has nothing to do with anything. When you’re better we can talk about it again, but until then I’m still your friend and I want to be here for you.”
House took this in, nodding slowly. “So you’re going to keep visiting every week, but we’re not going to talk about this? It will be like this conversation-and Saturday-never happened?”
“Until you say you’re ready to talk about it, this never happened,” Wilson confirmed. “Your recovery needs to be about you and how you feel, not anything that I say or feel.”
House nodded once and stood up. “I’ll see you Saturday then.”
Wilson left Mayfield that day without feeling any better about his situation. He wondered if he’d done the right thing. Was it really better to know that there was something that they both wanted but that was completely off limits?
Part Four