rp for rubicks_complex
Wilson hated his room.
Really, really hated his room. Especially now. After the walk-off-in-different-directions plan hadn't worked, the Doctor had taken to staying in the library. Wilson could tell it was getting to him. He had no way of helping though. He'd offered to aid in research but the Doctor told him the type of research he'd be doing wasn't the kind Wilson would understand.
That made him feel nice and useless. He'd never expected Jack's plan to go off without a hitch. In fact, he hadn't wanted to do it at all. The idea of escaping didn't appeal to him. His life in Princeton was gone and any reputation he'd tried so hard to uphold had been eradicated. Plus, if he'd gotten out, House would still be at the Hotel. And Wilson would never be able to leave him behind.
It wasn't a matter he discussed with the Doctor and he didn't really see anyone else enough for the idea of 'escaping sucks' to be brought into conversation. Alice and he were supposed to go swimming eventually, but he wasn't planning on telling her. Other than that there was Cuddy, whom he didn't see very often now, and Stacy. Wilson didn't intend to dash anyone's hopes. That was the opposite of what he wanted.
Either way it didn't matter because the plan hadn't worked. All that mattered to him at the moment was how much he hated his room. The plan could be blamed for putting the Doc in such a mood and Wilson did not feel like being alone anymore. He kept thinking back to the lunch with the Doctor that House had barged into and how damn awkward it felt. There was no reason for it to have felt that way, was there? He couldn't wrap his head around it. House might've just been trying to screw with him. Wilson didn't care for it because he and House had finally exchanged an understanding that each of them still gave a damn about the other existing. He didn't want House to offend the Doctor, either, but Wilson knew that wasn't going to happen. The Doctor didn't work that way.
Even so, Wilson found himself begging for any excuse to get out of his room, and he'd read the same paragraph of The Firm fourteen times. Finally he admitted that he couldn't stand it anymore and tossed the book onto his nightstand. He slipped into his shoes and made sure the key was still in the back pocket of his jeans. Wilson had taken to keeping it there because he was hardly ever in his room. After checking his hair in the mirror (for whatever stupid reason) and making sure his university tee wasn't too wrinkled, he left the room with a sigh and shut the door firmly behind him.
Four steps later he was at House's door. He looked down the hall in the direction he'd normally take to go to the library. Maybe he should just go force his company on the Doctor instead. Maybe--
Wilson knocked on House's door quietly. He didn't want to see the Doctor right now. It was House he felt like seeing - not that he gave that any thought whatsoever.
Really, really hated his room. Especially now. After the walk-off-in-different-directions plan hadn't worked, the Doctor had taken to staying in the library. Wilson could tell it was getting to him. He had no way of helping though. He'd offered to aid in research but the Doctor told him the type of research he'd be doing wasn't the kind Wilson would understand.
That made him feel nice and useless. He'd never expected Jack's plan to go off without a hitch. In fact, he hadn't wanted to do it at all. The idea of escaping didn't appeal to him. His life in Princeton was gone and any reputation he'd tried so hard to uphold had been eradicated. Plus, if he'd gotten out, House would still be at the Hotel. And Wilson would never be able to leave him behind.
It wasn't a matter he discussed with the Doctor and he didn't really see anyone else enough for the idea of 'escaping sucks' to be brought into conversation. Alice and he were supposed to go swimming eventually, but he wasn't planning on telling her. Other than that there was Cuddy, whom he didn't see very often now, and Stacy. Wilson didn't intend to dash anyone's hopes. That was the opposite of what he wanted.
Either way it didn't matter because the plan hadn't worked. All that mattered to him at the moment was how much he hated his room. The plan could be blamed for putting the Doc in such a mood and Wilson did not feel like being alone anymore. He kept thinking back to the lunch with the Doctor that House had barged into and how damn awkward it felt. There was no reason for it to have felt that way, was there? He couldn't wrap his head around it. House might've just been trying to screw with him. Wilson didn't care for it because he and House had finally exchanged an understanding that each of them still gave a damn about the other existing. He didn't want House to offend the Doctor, either, but Wilson knew that wasn't going to happen. The Doctor didn't work that way.
Even so, Wilson found himself begging for any excuse to get out of his room, and he'd read the same paragraph of The Firm fourteen times. Finally he admitted that he couldn't stand it anymore and tossed the book onto his nightstand. He slipped into his shoes and made sure the key was still in the back pocket of his jeans. Wilson had taken to keeping it there because he was hardly ever in his room. After checking his hair in the mirror (for whatever stupid reason) and making sure his university tee wasn't too wrinkled, he left the room with a sigh and shut the door firmly behind him.
Four steps later he was at House's door. He looked down the hall in the direction he'd normally take to go to the library. Maybe he should just go force his company on the Doctor instead. Maybe--
Wilson knocked on House's door quietly. He didn't want to see the Doctor right now. It was House he felt like seeing - not that he gave that any thought whatsoever.