RIP WIP Challenge
What's a summer camp without ghosts? This is the RIP WIP ("Rest in peace, works in progress") challenge: Take those fragments of sick!Wilson creations that have been haunting you with their unfinishedness and post them in comments here. Bury them, mourn them, and let them go.
Blink.
House starts to drive away.
Blink. House stops the car.
Blink.
House turns around and starts coming towards him.
Blink.
He realizes too late what's going to happen. He tries to dart out of the way, but-
A terrifying thumping sound, a blinding flash of orange light, his lungs are frozen in place and he can't breathe-
"JAMES!" House's voice roars at him, he hears the car door being thrown open, and the man rushes over to him. Hands are palpating his torso, he moans in agony, and the air catches in his lungs and makes him cough, and he feels the pink, frothy blood leaving his mouth-
"JAMES, STAY AWAKE! STAY WITH ME!" House screams.
Darkness.
Someone must have replaced every sinew in his body with concrete. That's the only explanation he can find for why he can't move a muscle. He tries to breathe, but his chest remains inert. He can't open his eyes- they won't budge.
He hears soft voices next to him, hears a gentle, feminine voice whispering to him, feels someone's amazingly warm hands massaging his palm and gently rubbing his forehead and eyebrows. He wants to call out, but no sound comes.
The voices are a dull roar in his ears, but eventually they becomes clearer. "Please wake up, James, please."
"Mom?" Wilson thinks. He tries harder, needing to find out what had happened to him that would require his parents being called. He tries to move again.
But that's the last thing his body wants to do; he's already worn himself out. He loses consciousness, and he has no idea if he'll ever wake up again.
He tries at least a dozen times to wake up, but he fails each time. There's always a loved one at his side, touching him and trying to coax him back to consciousness, but it never does him any good. He wants to ask what happened, why he's here, how long he's been comatose. He wants to tell those closest to him how much he cares.
Most of all, he wants to ask why House is never at his bedside. More than anyone else, he wants House's voice encouraging him, House's hands enveloping him. He constantly wills House to come to him from wherever he is, but his prayers go unanswered.
Wilson knows he's in trouble. Phrases like, "Time to let him go," and, "Wouldn't want to live like this" begin to reach him. They're going to disconnect him from the life support machines any day now. He doesn't think he's strong enough to breathe on his own. He's going to fight it, but it will be a losing battle.
House wouldn't let them do this. House would have been able to figure out that he was still there, just unable to communicate.
But House still isn't here.
Every prayer Wilson can think of is flashing through his mind at once. The doctors are about to disconnect the life support machines.
They're going to kill him. He wants to live- he doesn't care if he never wakes up, he just wants to live.
He's not ready, not ready at all. But there's nothing he can do.
He's completely powerless. He pleads for someone to save him, but it's for naught.
House never even told him goodbye. Everyone else did. The ducklings, Cuddy, his parents and brothers- even Danny; he had no idea how they found him- friends he hasn't seen in years, all his ex-wives.
Everyone except the one who matters the most.
He feels his mouth being pried open, and the breathing tube is extracted. Breathing is like trying to wade through wet cement, but he doesn't give up. Breath after exhausting breath.
Eventually, there will almost certainly come a point where it won't be enough, but for now it keeps him alive. And that's all that matters.
He wants to live.
He's heard that patients can survive for years without life support. He's heard the miraculous stories from other doctors.
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Apparently he's one of those patients. He only occasionally catches the date, but he knows it's been at least two weeks. He's amazed at himself- he never thought he was that strong.
It's a lot like swimming. So many people are sure they can't swim, and they'll sink like rocks, but one day they fall into the water, and they surprise themselves by somehow managing to doggy-paddle back to shore. He's tired, but he's still treading water, and he hopes that he either reaches land, or someone throws him a lifesaver.
Wilson knows today will be different. He feels stronger than he has since- since whatever happened.
He breathes deeply, steeling himself. He tries to move his hand to squeeze his father's hand.
After more than a dozen tries, his body responds. His muscles tense, and then they comply with his desires.
He hears a gasp of shock, and a shout of, "He's awake!"
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