Those Things We Don't Say- Part 4
Title: Those Things We Don’t Say (4/6)
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 Three
Part 4
Week Eleven
He wasn’t sure what to expect that day. House had seemed more than willing to forget everything that had been said, but would he feel the same after sitting with his thoughts for four days? Wilson did not like to be unprepared for anything and he wasn’t sure how House would act now. There was a chance that he would simply act like it didn’t happen. Or he may not address it directly, but make more than his usual share of suggestive comments. There was a third option, the one that Wilson was personally betting on. When faced with something uncomfortable, House would generally act out obnoxiously. This involved cruel insults, insane pranks and an extra helping of sarcasm.
Wilson pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He really didn’t feel like this week could get much worse, but it all depended on House now. When he finally entered the visitor’s room House was waiting. He looked about the same. He certainly hadn’t been losing any sleep over it, which meant he was doing better than Wilson was.
“Hey. How are you doing?”
“It’s fucking boring in here. The guy in the room next to me stopped screaming that the government was trying to take his brain- his meds finally kicked in- so it’s been pretty quiet.”
Wilson laughed, unsure whether it was really a joke or not. He relaxed a little though, realizing that House was going for option one. Or at least he was trying to. His tone was a very forced casual.
“And the food sucks. You didn’t bring anything this time?”
“No, I was running late. I forgot those magazines I was going to bring too. I… uh… lost a patient this morning. I was with his family all morning.”
“And you still came?” After everything that had happened in the past eleven weeks, House still sounded surprised that Wilson was there.
“I told you I would, didn’t I?”
House nodded, seeming thoughtful at this. Maybe he was finally beginning to trust. “You look like you slept in your office.”
Was that actually concern he heard in House’s voice?
“I was up with them all night actually. I was called back in at midnight and then got about a two-hour nap on the couch later. He held on longer than I thought he would.”
Though Wilson wasn’t about to tell House, he’d also had a rather stressful week in dealing with his brother. After making the trip on Monday to Mayfield he had made two separate trips to Trenton to help Danny adjust to his new doctors. Wilson made the decision to move him closer to home a few weeks ago and when the paranoia got bad the only person Danny trusted was his brother. And though he knew he was spreading himself thin, Wilson didn’t feel he had the right to burden House with any of it. He was always honest. He really did lose a patient that morning. But House didn’t need to know that he already had a major sleep deficit before that happened.
“Get some coffee or something before you try to drive home again.” Wilson smiled, touched that House expressed any sort of worry for him. But then House added quickly, “If you get into a crash I’ll never get my magazines.”
He rolled his eyes. “I will. Cuddy said to tell you hi. And Foreman was asking about you.”
“Is he having fun being me?”
“It’s been a mess. I think him and Thirteen are going to break up soon.”
“Please tell me she had a lesbian affair.”
“No, he’s currently her boss. It tends to strain a relationship. But as strange as it is I think he’s actually starting to miss you. He wanted to know when you would be back.”
House nodded. “Normal medical leave under FMLA is twelve weeks or less. Employers are only required by law to hold your job for that long. He probably did the math and figured I’ll either be back in a week or he’ll get my job permanently.”
Wilson took in House’s posture, slouched against the back of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. He was genuinely concerned about it and it was only fair, since that was one thing they hadn’t really talked about the whole time he’d been in Mayfield. “Cuddy’s not going to give him your job,” he said quietly.
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually I do.” House looked up at him. “We can both do the math too. She gave Foreman a raise when he took over as temporary head of the department, but she decided to give him more to keep him happy until you’re back. It really isn’t unusual. The hospital has allowed extended leaves before when one of our doctors burned out and needed a break.”
“So they all know where I am and what happened?”
“No,” he began hesitantly. If anyone could appreciate the devious behavior he and Cuddy had exhibited, it would be House. Still, he felt awkward explaining it. “We had told everyone that the problem is with your leg. Cuddy and I handled all the paperwork ourselves so it didn’t even have to go through the Human Resources Department. According to the leave papers, you are taking part in a pain management clinical trial after your Vicodin detox.”
“And people are buying that?”
“Someone did bring up your absence at a board meeting. Cuddy reminded them that your pain is caused by your leg, which the hospital was liable for. Given that, they were more than willing to let the subject drop. Cuddy was actually pretty amazing, you should have seen it.”
Wilson glanced up at House to find an expression of shock and disbelief.
“What?”
“You two lied to the board for me.”
“You’ve lied to the board a dozen times.”
“You lied to the board. For me,” he emphasized. “To spare my pride.”
“Technically, Cuddy did most of the lying.”
“If they found out it could mean both your jobs.”
Wilson shrugged. “They won’t.”
“You really think this is the sort of secret that stays secret? People are going to figure it out. My team will. I raised them to never back down. They’re probably going through your office right now looking for clues as to my whereabouts.”
“You think I spent this much time around you without learning how to cover my tracks? I may have left some pamphlets for pain management clinics in a drawer at my apartment. And I have a friend who is willing to do some suspicious acting while neither confirming nor denying your presence at his facility. If the team calls they will probably guess that’s where you are.”
“And when did you set all this up?”
“The clinic? The day after I dropped you off here. I called in a couple favors and that was all there was to it. I even made sure there was a paperwork and email trail connecting you to the facility, though I made sure it wasn’t too obvious. I told you I can cover my tracks.”
A smirk slowly spread across House’s face. “You sneaky bastard.”
Wilson grinned back. “I learned from the master.”
The smirk disappeared quickly. “So did my team. You might hold them off a while longer, but they will figure it out eventually.”
“Maybe, but we’ll deal with that if and when it happens.” They were quiet for a moment. “Is treatment going okay?”
“I’m trying to get Beck to change my meds.” Wilson raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you remember my feelings about antidepressants.”
“But they were working.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t seen Amber in over a week. Or Kutner, but really she was the annoyingly vocal one, which you know, makes sense.”
“Then why change?”
“Everything feels so foggy with them. I’m not thinking as clearly.”
“If you go off your drugs you’ll get more depressed and then you’ll be back on vicodin or worse. Being a little off from antidepressants is a whole lot better than hallucinating. Just deal with it.”
“That’s what Beck said.”
“See? I’m right.”
“You’re right?” House scoffed. “Just because someone shares your opinion? I guess all those Holocaust deniers are onto something then. I mean, there’s more than one of them and they agree, so they must be right, right?”
Wilson rolled his eyes, but House just continued.
“I’m sure you could find more than one person who thinks Paris Hilton’s album was pure musical genius, but that doesn’t make it true.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“In any case, he won’t change the meds.”
“I think they’re really helping you.”
“Yes, I’m all sunshine and kittens now.”
Wilson laughed. “No, I’d hate to see the great Dr. House become warm and cuddly. You do have an image to uphold, you know. I have noticed a change though.” He caught House’s sharp look at that. Of course, too much change was not something that House wanted to deal with. Too much change meant changing the way he worked. To House’s mind, it could be the difference between being himself or being like any other doctor. In recovering, he walked the very fine line between genius and madness. “A good change,” Wilson reassured him. “You’re still… you.”
House nodded slightly, contemplating Wilson’s observation. “But will I be when I go back to work? Before, when something was different, I would miss things. When I was on methadone I missed an obvious diagnosis. When I was going nuts I missed lots of stuff. I missed everything with Kutner.”
Wilson shook his head. “No. We’ve been through this and you’re not going to blame yourself for that. Nobody saw that coming. That has nothing to do with your superpowers. It’s just randomness of human behavior.”
To House that would always be a bad answer though, so Wilson turned so he was fully facing him on the couch and reached a hand across to House’s shoulder. “You have not lost what makes you you. All any of this means is that you can be… a better you.”
“Wilson?”
“Yeah?”
“You sound like a commercial.”
They both laughed.
“Hey,” House said, suddenly changing the subject, “have you been over to my apartment?”
Wilson felt his face heat up. He’d been there the previous night before he was paged to come back to the hospital. “Uh, yeah, I’ve picked up your mail and paid some bills.”
“Have you changed my TiVo?”
“I did actually adjust it for the changes in programming. The rest of the season of ‘Prescription Passion’ is waiting for you when you return. As are two monster truck competitions and a show called ‘College Girl Mud Wrestling’ that you saved before you left.”
House grinned. “You watched that one, didn’t you?”
Wilson’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red.
“You did! Was it good? They don’t let us get any good channels in here.”
“Oh, I don’t want to spoil it for you.”
“And people say I’m the ass. If I never get out of here, will you at least smuggle dirty videos in for me?”
Wilson shivered. He didn’t want to think about House staying there indefinitely.
Week Twelve
Dr. Beck was at the front desk when Wilson arrived.
“How’s he doing?”
Beck hesitated, which was never a good sign. “You should probably see for yourself.”
“He isn’t having hallucinations again, is he?”
“No.”
“Something in your sessions then.”
“You should go see him. I have a feeling you can talk him down better than I can.” Beck smiled warmly and continued with his work.
Great. House in a bad mood. Wilson glanced at the window. It was still a gorgeous day out and being outside always made House feel a little better. He was waiting in their usual spot, but Wilson didn’t bother even sitting down. He swooped in, announced that they were going outside and turned again, expecting House to follow him. He did and they were outside in the fresh air moments later.
The silence was maddening. Wilson could feel the tension radiating off of House. His scowl didn’t go away even after going outside and he didn’t question the change of location either. Wilson figured he could either do the careful avoidance thing and talk about his own week, or he could face the problem head on. If it was something they talked about in their sessions and upset House this much Wilson could guess what it was about. There were only a couple things that bothered House this much. His dad was one of them and since House already mentioned his dad two weeks ago, Wilson was betting on that being the reason for his current behavior.
“You’ve had a bad week.”
“My shrink has a big mouth.”
Wilson shook his head. “He didn’t say anything. I can spot your moods a mile off. If we were at work you would have half the staff running for cover.”
House narrowed his eyes on him. “My mood is just fine and I’m not going to talk about it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine? Come on. Don’t tell me Jimmy ‘Let’s-talk-about-feelings’ Wilson doesn’t want to know every dark detail. You’re saying fine so I will offer the information on my own.”
“You caught me. So I guess this is the part where I say ‘okay, spill it.’”
“No, this is the part where you feel ashamed of your devious ways and drop the subject.”
“Oops.”
There was a brief pause before House announced, “I’m going to get out of here. I’m checking out. Today. Drive me home.”
“You can’t just leave.”
“Sure I can. Voluntary commitment, so I can go whenever I want.”
“Yes, but if your doctor doesn’t sign off on it then you can’t come back to work. And this has been helping you. It’s obviously had some kind of effect if you’re so intent on running away from it.”
He let silence fall between them again, knowing that whatever House had talked about with the doctor was still festering, but he would never say anything. And he wouldn’t answer a vague request for general knowledge either. If Wilson wanted to know something he was going to have to think of a very direct question. Finally he knew which one.
“A few weeks ago you mentioned your dad, that you were talking about him. Is that what this is about?”
House glared.
“What? I’m trying to help.”
“Well don’t.”
“So this is about him.” Wilson thought about everything he knew about House’s dad. John liked authority and order. House did not. He went out of his way to defy authority. He’d indicated over the years that he and his dad both had a lack of respect for each other, but Wilson guessed that it was more. “You… don’t think that your dad loved you, do you?”
“I know he didn’t,” House answered without a hint of doubt. “I think that he believed that he did. But I’m not really sure he had the capacity for any real emotion. It’s a Marine thing.”
Wilson rolled his eyes. “Right. Soldiers are just emotionless assholes.”
“Not at all. A good soldier can compartmentalize emotions in order to remain calm under fire. It’s the only way any of them don’t just burst into tears on the front lines. My dad was so good at it that he never showed any emotion at all. Not to me or his wife. It’s like an actor who can’t get out of character.”
They sat down on a bench. Wilson could tell the leg pain was getting to him. The new pain killers just weren’t as good as the Vicodin. House seemed a little more at ease there in the sunlight though.
“And your mom?”
“She followed his lead when he was around. When he was off on assignment somewhere she was actually tolerable to be around. When he came back… I wanted to die.”
Wilson’s lips parted in surprise, but he remained silent. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. He was used to stories of John’s temper and was never sure how exaggerated they might be. With House, it was hard to tell. Now he was beginning to see how maybe he hadn’t taken things as seriously as he should have. Instead of talking to House about it, he just automatically assumed that he was lying. After all, House the adult wasn’t very well behaved. Perhaps House the child wasn’t either and he just resented his father for sending him to his room. This was different though. He had never heard House say that he wanted to die. This was the kind of naked honesty that he rarely heard from House at all.
“What did he do?” Wilson couldn’t help asking.
House shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it? She didn’t stop him. And she didn’t stop trying to make me want to be his son. Even after he was dead. She said he didn’t mean it. Every time he said how worthless I was, he didn’t really mean it.”
The bitterness was palpable. Before Wilson could think better of it, his hand had moved toward House’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. House stiffened, but when he didn’t pull away Wilson relaxed, enjoying a closeness that House would have never allowed if they were anyplace but here.
“She wrote to me.”
“Your mom? When?”
“When you first told her I was here and then again last week. She’s called you.”
Wilson nodded. She had called several times to get updates, but she never mentioned writing to him.
“I was really vague when I talked to her. I knew you wouldn’t want her knowing everything.”
“I wrote back to her.”
This did surprise Wilson. He wasn’t really sure House had ever written a letter to anyone, except maybe professionally and usually he had one of his fellows do even that.
“You replied to this recent letter?”
“No, the first one. I just didn’t do it until last week. She’s so predictable. She wrote back the day she got it. It even had tear stains on it.”
He wasn’t sure he should ask, but he couldn’t help taking advantage of House’s rare openness.
“What did you tell her to make her cry?”
“I asked her why she didn’t just leave him when someone else knocked her up.”
“What did she say?”
“She said that he loved me.” He let out a humorless, agonized laugh. “And it means just as much now as it did all those other times she said it.”
Wilson sat very still, afraid to move or even breathe, to break this moment because House obviously needed this. He needed to say these things that were buried deep inside. There was a little boy inside there somewhere who only wanted love and acceptance. Instead he had been told repeatedly that he was a disappointment in some way. It was no wonder he clung so tightly to his medical skill and knowledge. It was the only area of his life in which he had never been a disappointment.
“Wilson?” The voice seemed so small that it was a little frightening.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think she loved me either.”
Part Five >