Fic: Hiatus Challenge Drabbles Episodes 1-3
Pilot: “So you lied to a friend to save a stranger. You don’t think that’s kind of screwed up?”
1X2: “But the fact is if I don’t keep busy with trivial things like this, I might start to cry.”
1X3: Jacka** #1
Wilson had dodged the question, having too many of his own. He wasn’t quite sure he had done the right thing, but when he saw the slight smile play across House’s face as he asked for change for a dollar, he knew he had. Seeing the twinkle in House’s eye and lightness and mirth dancing across his face, fueled Wilson’s quest to draw out his old friend. He refused to let House become a withdrawn shell. He had stubbornly determined to do everything he could think of to keep that from happening. Convincing House to take the case had been the first step in his latest plan, getting Cuddy to enforce clinic duty had been the second. He was sure they could save House yet. He had to believe it.
In truth, he had lied to a friend to save a friend, and by extension himself.
1X2: “But the fact is if I don’t keep busy with trivial things like this, I might start to cry.”
Wilson had laughed it off and called him an ass, which he was.
But there was truth to what he had said.
Competition was something House shared a love, hate relationship with. Whether in sports or medicine, he got a rush from feeling like he was the best, but at the same time he always felt the nature of it was hollow and petty. The competitive nature of medicine meant he was often envied for his genius.
Few people saw the ugly side of genius though. His mind raced ceaselessly whether he wanted it to or not. It was like a wild stallion refusing to be reigned in. He used it to control as much as he could because there was no controlling it or turning it off or even slowing it down. He needed to be thinking about several things at once to help channel it. It refused to let him live in ignorance, so he lived ignoring; Ignoring all the thoughts that would lead to the ultimate end. The thoughts that had led him to contemplate ending it all, which he had since determined to move passed. So, he continued to busy himself with seemingly trivial things. He stood out on the lacrosse field thinking of things lost over the years, and things gained.
He was brought back to that coffee break with Wilson, remembering Wilson laughing and calling him an ass. Times like that were easy. His mind quieted. When he was sitting there with Wilson being deemed an ass, he wasn’t Dr. Gregory House, genius, he was just House, Wilson’s insufferable idiot friend.
1X3
House had left the pharmacy triumphant. He was packing up his things to go home when he heard familiar footsteps.
“Ah, I see you’ve left your post at the pharmacy,” Wilson said teasingly.
“Found what I was looking for,” House replied contentedly.
“You should have gone with the highlights. Smugness is not that attractive when paired with the unhealthy obsession you seem unable to live without.”
“I’ll be sure to let my hair stylist know. So, Mr. Well-Adjusted, what are you doing here past 8 o’clock on a Friday night. Shouldn’t you be home with wife number three? Or out on a date with soon to be wife number four?”
Wilson’s eyed House sharply, but was belied by a boyish smile. He was glad House was done with the case. He couldn’t help but worry about the state House worked himself into when he was intent upon figuring something out. There was not enough rest or food and too much Vicodin involved for Wilson’s liking.
“I thought I’d grab dinner with Jackass number one instead. Come on, pizza and beer.”