Insomnia
Camp Sick! Wilson - Picture Challenge Entry
Title: Insomnia
Author: rslworks
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Summary: Wilson is a little faint of heart at times…good thing he has such a good friend in House!
A.N.: Thanks to menolly au for giving me such an adorable Wilson clip from one of my fav episodes!
“God, look at you!”
(World’s BIGGEST Yawn) “What?”
“Oh, come on. Cuddy sent you home, didn’t she?”
“What! Of course, not. I, I…forgot my lunch.”
“You’ve worked there twelve years! Here’s a little tip, there’s a cafeteria on the first floor!”
“Look, House--”
“Admit it! You couldn’t pull it off! You tried to cat nap in that suit, for God’s sake!”
“WHAT NAP! WHAT SLEEP!!”
“That sounded suspiciously like an accusation. Words can hurt, you know.”
----
“What’s with all the arm flapping and head shaking? Your insomnia is my fault?”
“Oh you know perfectly well! Look at me! I’ve never been such a wreck and tried to go to work! My patients looked at me like they were afraid I’d just come off the biggest bender ever and stumbled directly into my office.”
“You did stumble into your office.”
“I told Mrs. Tate that she had Stage IV ovarian cancer and she took my hand and asked me, ‘is everything alright at home, dear?’”
“Very perceptive woman.”
----
“Enough with the arm flapping, you look like a dishevelled, hysterical ostrich!
“Tell me this, House! Have you ever cared in the least about the ramifications of the things you do to me?”
“Oh…my…God. The DRAMA of it all! You’d think I’d ripped the heads off all the little stuffed dolls in your office that the cancer kiddies give you!”
“This is clearly your fault, like almost all the negative events in my life!”
“Oh, you whiny, self-righteous coward!”
“Hey! You don’t get to call me a coward twice in my life!”
“I do if it fits! Don’t you think it’s about time you took responsibility for your own foibles and failures! I didn’t make you the way you are! That’s what the formative years between 1 and 3 are for, dumb ass!”
“Foibles?”
“Huh, yes…foibles. Weaknesses, faults, shortcomings, deficiencies, quirks, and imperfections! Clear enough for you?....Why are you grinning like an insane loon?”
(Snort!) “Foibles, funny word, foibles. Never thought about it before.”
“You need to lie down.”
“What did I come here for?”
“Cuddy sent you home, idiot. And you came here to toss all the blame at my feet, as usual.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And to sum up, in case you nodded off, it is not my fault that you are a wuss.”
“House?”
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t slept one wink in three days.”
“I know. It’s textbook trauma-induced insomnia. Let me get you some Ativan. The way you look, you’ll be drooling with your mouth open in five minutes.”
“Mocking me again, but I’ll take the Ativan regardless. Cuddy’s not impressed. Gotta get some sleep tonight.”
“Here we go, bend over!”
“That was quick. Just one thing before you take great pleasure in jabbing me with that unnecessarily large gauge needle--”
“Which is?”
“Promise me no marathon of Stephen King movies tonight?”
“Aww! But we didn’t finish three nights ago, and you’ll be sleeping this time.”
“Right, and my subconscious will fill in all the gory details for itself. It’ll be ten times worse than actually watching Jack Nicholson chase after Shelly Duvall with a big axe!”
“You’re pathetic.”
“Am not.”
“Don’t start. You can’t win. You should know that by now. Nighty night.”
Title: Insomnia
Author: rslworks
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Summary: Wilson is a little faint of heart at times…good thing he has such a good friend in House!
A.N.: Thanks to menolly au for giving me such an adorable Wilson clip from one of my fav episodes!
“God, look at you!”
(World’s BIGGEST Yawn) “What?”
“Oh, come on. Cuddy sent you home, didn’t she?”
“What! Of course, not. I, I…forgot my lunch.”
“You’ve worked there twelve years! Here’s a little tip, there’s a cafeteria on the first floor!”
“Look, House--”
“Admit it! You couldn’t pull it off! You tried to cat nap in that suit, for God’s sake!”
“WHAT NAP! WHAT SLEEP!!”
“That sounded suspiciously like an accusation. Words can hurt, you know.”
----
“What’s with all the arm flapping and head shaking? Your insomnia is my fault?”
“Oh you know perfectly well! Look at me! I’ve never been such a wreck and tried to go to work! My patients looked at me like they were afraid I’d just come off the biggest bender ever and stumbled directly into my office.”
“You did stumble into your office.”
“I told Mrs. Tate that she had Stage IV ovarian cancer and she took my hand and asked me, ‘is everything alright at home, dear?’”
“Very perceptive woman.”
----
“Enough with the arm flapping, you look like a dishevelled, hysterical ostrich!
“Tell me this, House! Have you ever cared in the least about the ramifications of the things you do to me?”
“Oh…my…God. The DRAMA of it all! You’d think I’d ripped the heads off all the little stuffed dolls in your office that the cancer kiddies give you!”
“This is clearly your fault, like almost all the negative events in my life!”
“Oh, you whiny, self-righteous coward!”
“Hey! You don’t get to call me a coward twice in my life!”
“I do if it fits! Don’t you think it’s about time you took responsibility for your own foibles and failures! I didn’t make you the way you are! That’s what the formative years between 1 and 3 are for, dumb ass!”
“Foibles?”
“Huh, yes…foibles. Weaknesses, faults, shortcomings, deficiencies, quirks, and imperfections! Clear enough for you?....Why are you grinning like an insane loon?”
(Snort!) “Foibles, funny word, foibles. Never thought about it before.”
“You need to lie down.”
“What did I come here for?”
“Cuddy sent you home, idiot. And you came here to toss all the blame at my feet, as usual.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“And to sum up, in case you nodded off, it is not my fault that you are a wuss.”
“House?”
“Yeah?”
“I haven’t slept one wink in three days.”
“I know. It’s textbook trauma-induced insomnia. Let me get you some Ativan. The way you look, you’ll be drooling with your mouth open in five minutes.”
“Mocking me again, but I’ll take the Ativan regardless. Cuddy’s not impressed. Gotta get some sleep tonight.”
“Here we go, bend over!”
“That was quick. Just one thing before you take great pleasure in jabbing me with that unnecessarily large gauge needle--”
“Which is?”
“Promise me no marathon of Stephen King movies tonight?”
“Aww! But we didn’t finish three nights ago, and you’ll be sleeping this time.”
“Right, and my subconscious will fill in all the gory details for itself. It’ll be ten times worse than actually watching Jack Nicholson chase after Shelly Duvall with a big axe!”
“You’re pathetic.”
“Am not.”
“Don’t start. You can’t win. You should know that by now. Nighty night.”