I’m weary of the pace...

[dr_j_wilson]

Who: Wilson, tagging Cuddy (Closed)
Where: Cuddy's house
What: Takes place after this thread. Wilson shows up at Cuddy's front door.
When: Tuesday 28th March. 5.45pm.

Complete

Comments

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy entered her house through the door from the garage. Hospitals were very noisy places, and she paused a moment to savor the absence of noise in her home. All too often the house was too quiet, but not right after work. Then she enjoyed the silence

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson had mixed feelings when Cuddy opened the door. He was relieved on one hand, but there was still that niggling voice telling him he shouldn’t be here. Knowing he would fail miserably at it, Wilson didn’t even try to put up an act. He just shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at Cuddy’s face before looking away again when she invited him in. “Actually…” Wilson started and then stopped, taken aback by how hoarse he sounded. He swallowed hard before speaking again

[dr_l_cuddy]

"That bad, huh?" If Cuddy hadn't known from the look on Wilson's face, his voice and his body language would've shown that he was a man in pain. She gave a little jerk of her head, urging him into the house. "Come on in. I'm sure I've got a bottle of Glenfidduch tucked away somewhere

[dr_j_wilson]

After taking his jacket off and lying it on the arm of the couch, Wilson sat down stiffly at one corner. He looked around when Cuddy left the room, vaguely acknowledging that she had a nice, neat home. Pressing his palms flat on his thighs Wilson looked down at them. He was still feeling shaky but that was no longer physically apparent at least

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy winced but said nothing when Wilson downed the first glass of whiskey in one go. She remained silent when Wilson held out his glass for a refill. She knew Wilson knew that getting drunk was only a temporary escape at best. But he was a grown man and if temporary escape was what he wanted or needed, she wasn't going to stop him. She would, however, find a way to get his car keys away from him at some point. There was no way she was going to let him get behind the wheel of a car if he was going to continue drinking like this.

"You don't have to apologize for coming here," Cuddy hastened to assure him. She stopped speaking almost immediately because she didn't think he was listening to her. He appeared to be consumed by some inward battle, one he was losing.

She was trying to think of some way to distract him, help him pull back from the raw edges of his emotions when he let out a pained "Oh God." Her chest tightened at the sound of such despair but she reacted almost instinctively. She set her drink, still untouched, on the

[dr_j_wilson]

So absorbed as Wilson was in his grief - and it was grief, because as Wilson saw it he’d just lost the most important person in his life, not just the person he loved, but his closest friend as well - Cuddy’s touch and words seemed to come from far, far away. A shudder went through his body, as if his pain was trying to find a way out, but Wilson desperately forced it back. Long enough at least to finish off the glass of whiskey, though he could barely swallow around the lump in his throat. The glass fell to his side on the couch from lax fingers, though Wilson barely noticed it, and he pressed his face into both hands, elbows propped on his knees.

“I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life,” Wilson choked out in another whisper. A silent sob wracked his body and behind his hands, Wilson’s face was scrunched up tight. He didn’t want to fall apart, especially not now in front of Cuddy, but it was like holding back a monstrous river with a handful of sand.

Wilson was sure now that it was his mistake. He was the one that had gone to

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy felt Wilson's body shaking under her hand. When he leaned forward, covering his face, she slid her hand across his shoulders. She kept a slow, gentle movement with her hand, hoping to give him some physical comfort at least. She wasn't sure there was anything she could do that would bring him any emotional comfort, and she found it distressing to be so...useless.

Cuddy nodded to herself when Wilson choked out House's name. That was the crux of the situation, the secret both men had been trying to keep.

"House. And you. I know."

Strictly speaking she didn't know, she suspected. And it was only a very general suspicion at that.

"What I mean is, I figured out that there'd been a change in your relationship with House. That the two of you have become...more than friends," she explained, choosing her words carefully because she didn't really know how far they'd taken this change.

And still, this shift in their relationship didn't explain why Wilson was here now, so utterly bereft. Granted, House had a talent for reducing

[dr_j_wilson]

Feeling the movement of Cuddy’s hand on his back, Wilson honestly didn’t know if he wanted her to stop or not. Partly it made him remember House touching him in a similar way, which was not something he wanted to be thinking about, and in another way it was comforting. Comforting to think he might not be as alone without House as he had initially thought. There was no comparison to the friendship he had had with House, of course, but it was still something

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy remained silent at Wilson's side, giving him time to release some of the emotion that seemed to nearly overwhelm him. She didn't believe for a moment that everything was finished between the two men. They'd known each other too long, been through too much together for it to just end. But Wilson clearly believed it and right now that was all that mattered

[dr_j_wilson]

“What?” Wilson choked out, struggling to breathe right, struggling to focus on what Cuddy was saying. He swallowed hard and turned his face away, harshly wiping at his eyes and face. “No, he…” Cuddy had talked to House about them?

Wilson rubbed hard at his forehead with the heel of one hand, as if it would clear the confusion in his mind. As much as the idea pained him, Wilson replayed the scene since the time he’d walked into House’s apartment to find him with the hooker. He remembered House’s expression when he’d paid the woman, one that could have been shame, or guilt, Wilson wasn’t sure.

It was hard to focus, hard to think straight with the mix of alcohol and emotions making his head swim. But Cuddy was right, Wilson thought, House did go to extremes when he was afraid, and he attacked when he felt threatened. And he had most certainly attacked.

Think I'm not confused about any of this? What, you think I did this to spite you? Is that what you think? Wilson shook his head slowly before slumping back against the couch’s

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy watched Wilson struggle to make sense of everything, and wondered which of the two men was more confused. As far as she knew both of them had always been straight. As far as she knew they had always thought they were straight. She couldn't imagine the turmoil this new self-knowledge must be causing.

When Wilson slumped back against the couch, she busied herself with retrieving his forgotten glass. It had been empty so the upholstery was undamaged. Not that she would've cared much. Furniture could be cleaned or replaced, friends couldn't.

She glanced over her shoulder at Wilson when he admitted he didn't know. He looked exhausted, almost defeated. She set the glass next to the open bottle on the coffee table, then shifted her position so that she was sitting sideways on the couch, facing him.

"Of course you don't know," Cuddy said in an attempt to reassure him. "You're too upset right now. Give yourself some time. You'll figure it out."

A small voice in the back of Cuddy's head wanted to know how the hell she would know

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson managed a faint smile, looking over at Cuddy with clear gratefulness. His smile faltered however at the thought of the morning, which lead to thoughts of work. Until then Wilson hadn’t even thought about the fact that he and House would no doubt see each other at work, sooner or later. The knowledge left him with a sick feeling of dread, but he shut it quickly away and focused back on the present

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy returned the squeeze Wilson gave her hand, trying to infuse the simple gesture with all the reassurance she could

[dr_j_wilson]

Wilson nodded at Cuddy and got to his feet, giving her another faint smile before he went out to his car. Opening the boot, he rummaged around in his suitcase, putting some clothes and other things into his backpack to take inside. Putting the bag over one shoulder, Wilson shut the boot again and locked it. Instead of walking away though, Wilson turned and slumped back against the car. It was a mild night, but Wilson felt cold….chilled even.

Despite everything, he wondered what House was doing right then, if he was okay. Idiot, Wilson told himself, he wanted you to leave.Pushing himself away from the car, Wilson made his way back into Cuddy’s house and found the guestroom without any problems. He dumped his bag in there before going into the bathroom across the hall. The reflection of himself in the mirror made Wilson grimace. He splashed water over his face and then deliberated about joining Cuddy or not. His body was demanding food, but at the same time the thought of eating made him feel nauseous

[dr_l_cuddy]

Cuddy made a detour on the way to the kitchen and stopped in her bedroom. Once she'd changed into jeans and a royal blue t-shirt, and was feeling much more comfortable, she finally made it to the kitchen. She pulled the fixings for turkey sandwiches from the fridge, figuring Wilson wouldn't be in the mood for anything heavy...assuming he was in the mood to eat at all