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_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.

“Thanks. I’ve had a stomach-full of hotels to be honest,” Wilson said, still sounding weary but better than he had been not a minute ago. He glanced away again but reached out to find Cuddy’s hand and squeezed it briefly with one of his own, the touch saying more than he was capable of putting into words. It was more the offer of a place to stay for the night that Wilson was grateful for.

“Which...reminds me,” Wilson looked at Cuddy again, getting an idea that could at least be a temporary solution to potential problems. “You uh, you said I could ask for some time off if I needed it?” Wilson paused for a moment, “I think it’s about time I find my own place,” he said, trying to ignore the pang of regret in his chest at those words. “I’ll only need a few days, and I know for a fact that Dr. Julian will jump at the chance to run the department in my place,” Wilson added with a vague, wry smile.

[dr_l_cuddy]

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

"Of course," Cuddy said when Wilson mentioned time off. She wondered if it wasn't more than simply looking for a place to live, more as in wanting to avoid House. Wilson and House were going to have to deal with this at some point, but maybe it would be best to postpone that confrontation until Wilson's emotions weren't so raw. Her lips twisted briefly in a grimace when she thought about what House's emotions would be like in the morning. She pitied the students in his class, more so than usual.

"I'll let Dr. Julian know first thing in the morning. I'll tell him you'll be gone the rest of the week, but we can adjust that depending on how things are working out for you. You're more than welcome to stay here as long as you need."

Cuddy gave Wilson a quick pat on the knee before getting to her feet. "Why don't you go get your things from the car and bring them in? Bedroom's second door on the right. Speak up if you can't find something you need." Cuddy picked up her still untouched glass of whiskey and nodded toward the kitchen. "In the meantime I'm going to round up something for supper. If you're feeling up to it, you're welcome to join me."

[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.

And he was tired. So goddamn tired. Maybe he’d just have a quick nap beforehand, Wilson decided. Going back to the guestroom he kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to pull a blanket over himself. Only a minute later Wilson was fast asleep, sleeping like a man who was going to stay sleep until something forced him back into the real world.

[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.

She slapped together a quick sandwich for herself and stood leaning against the counter to eat. In the background she could hear the muffled sound of doors opening and closing as Wilson settled into the guest bedroom.

Part of her wanted to believe that Wilson was wildly overreacting to whatever had happened between him and House. She'd seen the two of them have some real knock-down, drag-out fights before and nothing had ever been able to fracture their friendship. But the rational part of her knew that Wilson didn't overreact to House, not to this extreme degree.

Cuddy set her sandwich down, suddenly not all that hungry herself. She realized she hadn't heard anything of Wilson in while. She could understand if he didn't feel like eating, or that maybe he simply wanted to be alone for a while, but she thought it would be a good idea to get some fluids in him to counteract the dehydrating effects of the alcohol. A couple of aspirin wouldn't be a bad idea either.

She made her way to the guest bedroom. The door was almost but not quite closed. She gave the door a quick, one-knuckle knock, then pushed it open. She cringed a little when the hinges made a dry creaking noise, but she needn't have worried. Wilson was sprawled out on the bed, dead to the world.

Conflicted, Cuddy stayed where she was for a moment. Should she wake him and try to coax him into eating or drinking something? Or leave him in peace? She glanced at her watch and realized that although it felt like hours had passed since she'd arrived home, it was actually still fairly early in the evening. She decided a nap wasn't a bad idea--Wilson clearly needed the rest--so she crossed to the foot of the bed and grabbed a thin blanket folded across the footboard. She shook it out and draped it across Wilson's still form.

If he didn't wake on his own in an hour or so, she'd check on him again. Until then,

"Sweet dreams."