Fic: Make Believe
Title: Make Believe
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: General
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 6 up to 'Open and Shut.' Angst.
Summary: House comes home and Wilson is there.
House comes home and Wilson is there, and everything begins to settle. He still treads on some shaky ground but he easily slips into a comfortable existence with his best friend.
In some ways he misses the hospital. He misses the puzzles, the distractions. In a lot of other ways he likes just being here, and knowing that Wilson is still here for him. He could get used to this, he thinks. Seems simple. He could probably do with simple. Except that things are never as they seem. The pain from two years ago is still present, and all too fresh in his mind for his liking. Probably best to take a step back.
Cuddy has always been a possibility, and Wilson’s insistence eventually urges him into action. Wilson’s always known what was best for him. At least that was how it seemed from where he stood. Wilson would never intentionally hurt him. But all it accomplishes in doing is bringing up all the reasons why distancing himself from her had been the right thing to do in the first place. It’s never been easy being emotionally intimate with people. Another lesson learned.
The affirmation that Wilson thinks of him as a good friend makes him feel that little bit appreciated. That he can do the things he does and still have Wilson see them for what they really are. By now, it’s the best way he knows how to show that he cares.
If you die, I’m alone. He thought he’d given it away right there and then. Wilson would see right through him now. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. The next thing he knows, Wilson is offering him something else entirely. Suddenly it goes from ‘living at Wilson’s’ to ‘living with Wilson.’
Wilson asks him to marry him. Something he’s definitely never considered. Unexpected is an understatement.
The moment is over in an instant and he’s looking at him over the rim of his glass, wondering about the lengths Wilson would go to and the exact reasoning behind them.
He loses count of the shared meals, the nights on the couch, the walks across the hospital lobby; going home together. And Wilson was still capable of surprising him. None more so than the gift Wilson gives him. Sitting before it, pressing the keys; he treats it as such. It says to him: forever.
Now another one comes along to threaten all that he knows.
He’s back in the same position. Looked over, passed up.
House comes home and Wilson is there. She’s there now too.
He moves past them, walking to his room. His leg aches; a sharp searing pain with every second step.
It had become tiring continuously waiting for Wilson to open his arms, which looked less and less likely of ever happening.
He supposes he could just ask. Just say something. But it’s always been hard. So incredibly hard.
Inside his room he leans his cane against the wall and, without bothering to remove his jacket, rolls onto the bed.
He lies there; arms outstretched either side of him, staring at the ceiling.
Nothing hurts more than the truth.